#music band for private parties

[chakapriambudi]

Band Jazz untuk acara dinner

Mengapa kami? Fleksibel, anda bisa request format dan tema yang sesuai dengan acara. Duo Untuk acara dinner italian, kami tampil dengan format contrabass/guitar + accordion. konsepnya street music Trio Untuk acara private dinner , format trio seperti vokal, piano dan contrabass dapat menghadirkan suasana yang nyaman. Quartet Untuk pecinta jazz standards, format vokal, piano, contrabass dan…

[suguann]

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous���hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 

“Enjoying the party?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?” 

He nods. 

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

[spiderm444rk]

LOST IN TRANSLATION - mark lee smau

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted.

on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it’ll earn him money, but it’s not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day.

once the school band announces they’re looking for a new guitarist, he’s absolutely ready to apply until he reads the ‘music students only’ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

business major! mark x fem journalism major! reader

GENRE — fluff, comedy, humor, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au, college au

WARNINGS — a little bit of cursing, probably kys/kms jokes, mark is really unlucky and awkward, reader as a journalism student loves gossiping a LOT and she’ll get into everyone’s business to do her job properly, a lot of teasing, includes mlm, features other idols (aespa, enhypen…)

STATUS — ongoing

UPDATES — every monday, wednesday and saturday

TAGLIST — open (reply or send an ask)

PLAYLIST — solo - frank ocean, ivy - frank ocean, highway to heaven - nct 127, pink matter - frank ocean, infrunami - steve lacy, attracted to you - pinkpantheress, leave the door open - bruno mars, only if - steve lacy, i like me better - lauv, 200 - mark, fireflies - nct dream, up to you - prettymuch+nct dream, it’s yours - nct dream

A/N — my first smau ever :) but i’m so excited ! hopefully it goes well 🙏🏻

profiles 1 || profiles 2

band introduction

Y/N’s magazine account

1) accidental confessions

2) don’t do anything stupid

3) y/n’s hit tweet

4) we are the most mysterious bitches in this cafeteria

5) they know what you did

6) you found me thanks to my private twitter ?

7) two baddies with connections

8) one at a time gentlemen

9) show them who’s the king

10) a little stalking never hurt anyone

11) we aren’t homophobic !

12) surrounded by opps

13) we’re locked in baby

14) she has a hand kink

15) hope they play charli xcx

16) party in the city where the heat is on

[mostlysignssomeportents]

MIT libraries are thriving without Elsevier

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Once you learn about the "collective action problem," you start seeing it everywhere. Democrats – including elected officials – all wanted Biden to step down, but none of them wanted to be the first one to take a firm stand, so for months, his campaign limped on: a collective action problem.

Patent trolls use bullshit patents to shake down small businesses, demanding "license fees" that are high, but much lower than the cost of challenging the patent and getting it revoked. Collectively, it would be much cheaper for all the victims to band together and hire a fancy law firm to invalidate the patent, but individually, it makes sense for them all to pay. A collective action problem:

https://locusmag.com/2013/11/cory-doctorow-collective-action/

Musicians get royally screwed by Spotify. Collectively, it would make sense for all of them to boycott the platform, which would bring it to its knees and either make it pay more or put it out of business. Individually, any musician who pulls out of Spotify disappears from the horizon of most music fans, so they all hang in – a collective action problem:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/21/off-the-menu/#universally-loathed

Same goes for the businesses that get fucked out of 30% of their app revenues by Apple and Google's mobile business. Without all those apps, Apple and Google wouldn't have a business, but any single app that pulls out commits commercial suicide, so they all hang in there, paying a 30% vig:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/15/private-law/#thirty-percent-vig

That's also the case with Amazon sellers, who get rooked for 45-51 cents out of every dollar in platform junk fees, and whose prize for succeeding despite this is to have their product cloned by Amazon, which underprices them because it doesn't have to pay a 51% rake on every sale. Without third-party sellers there'd be no Amazon, but it's impossible to get millions of sellers to all pull out at once, so the Bezos crime family scoops up half of the ecommerce economy in bullshit fees:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

This is why one definition of "corruption" is a system with "concentrated gains and diffuse losses." The company that dumps toxic waste in your water supply reaps all the profits of externalizing its waste disposal costs. The people it poisons each bear a fraction of the cost of being poisoned. The environmental criminal has a fat warchest of ill-gotten gains to use to bribe officials and pay fancy lawyers to defend it in court. Its victims are each struggling with the health effects of the crimes, and even without that, they can't possibly match the polluter's resources. Eventually, the polluter spends enough money to convince the Supreme Court to overturn "Chevron deference" and makes it effectively impossible to win the right to clean water and air (or a planet that's not on fire):

https://www.cfr.org/expert-brief/us-supreme-courts-chevron-deference-ruling-will-disrupt-climate-policy

Any time you encounter a shitty, outrageous racket that's stable over long timescales, chances are you're looking at a collective action problem. Certainly, that's the underlying pathology that preserves the scholarly publishing scam, which is one of the most grotesque, wasteful, disgusting frauds in our modern world (and that's saying something, because the field is crowded with many contenders).

Here's how the scholarly publishing scam works: academics do original scholarly research, funded by a mix of private grants, public funding, funding from their universities and other institutions, and private funds. These academics write up their funding and send it to a scholarly journal, usually one that's owned by a small number of firms that formed a scholarly publishing cartel by buying all the smaller publishers in a string of anticompetitive acquisitions. Then, other scholars review the submission, for free. More unpaid scholars do the work of editing the paper. The paper's author is sent a non-negotiable contract that requires them to permanently assign their copyright to the journal, again, for free. Finally, the paper is published, and the institution that paid the researcher to do the original research has to pay again – sometimes tens of thousands of dollars per year! – for the journal in which it appears.

The academic publishing cartel insists that the millions it extracts from academic institutions and the billions it reaps in profit are all in service to serving as neutral, rigorous gatekeepers who ensure that only the best scholarship makes it into print. This is flatly untrue. The "editorial process" the academic publishers take credit for is virtually nonexistent: almost everything they publish is virtually unchanged from the final submission format. They're not even typesetting the paper:

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00799-018-0234-1

The vetting process for peer-review is a joke. Literally: an Australian academic managed to get his dog appointed to the editorial boards of seven journals:

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/olivia-doll-predatory-journals

Far from guarding scientific publishing from scams and nonsense, the major journal publishers have stood up entire divisions devoted to pay-to-publish junk science. Elsevier – the largest scholarly publisher – operated a business unit that offered to publish fake journals full of unreveiwed "advertorial" papers written by pharma companies, packaged to look like a real journal:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090504075453/http://blog.bioethics.net/2009/05/merck-makes-phony-peerreview-journal/

Naturally, academics and their institutions hate this system. Not only is it purely parasitic on their labor, it also serves as a massive brake on scholarly progress, by excluding independent researchers, academics at small institutions, and scholars living in the global south from accessing the work of their peers. The publishers enforce this exclusion without mercy or proportion. Take Diego Gomez, a Colombian Masters candidate who faced eight years in prison for accessing a single paywalled academic paper:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2014/07/colombian-student-faces-prison-charges-sharing-academic-article-online

And of course, there's Aaron Swartz, the young activist and Harvard-affiliated computer scientist who was hounded to death after he accessed – but did not publish – papers from MIT's JSTOR library. Aaron had permission to access these papers, but JSTOR, MIT, and the prosecutors Stephen Heymann and Carmen Ortiz argued that because he used a small computer program to access the papers (rather than clicking on each link by hand) he had committed 13 felonies. They threatened him with more than 30 years in prison, and drew out the proceedings until Aaron was out of funds. Aaron hanged himself in 2013:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aaron_Swartz

Academics know all this terrible stuff is going on, but they are trapped in a collective action problem. For an academic to advance in their field, they have to publish, and they have to get their work cited. Academics all try to publish in the big prestige journals – which also come with the highest price-tag for their institutions – because those are the journals other academics read, which means that getting published is top journal increases the likelihood that another academic will find and cite your work.

If academics could all agree to prioritize other journals for reading, then they could also prioritize other journals for submissions. If they could all prioritize other journals for submissions, they could all prioritize other journals for reading. Instead, they all hold one another hostage, through a wicked collective action problem that holds back science, starves their institutions of funding, and puts their colleagues at risk of imprisonment.

Despite this structural barrier, academics have fought tirelessly to escape the event horizon of scholarly publishing's monopoly black hole. They avidly supported "open access" publishers (most notably PLoS), and while these publishers carved out pockets for free-to-access, high quality work, the scholarly publishing cartel struck back with package deals that bundled their predatory "open access" journals in with their traditional journals. Academics had to pay twice for these journals: first, their institutions paid for the package that included them, then the scholars had to pay open access submission fees meant to cover the costs of editing, formatting, etc – all that stuff that basically doesn't exist.

Academics started putting "preprints" of their work on the web, and for a while, it looked like the big preprint archive sites could mount a credible challenge to the scholarly publishing cartel. So the cartel members bought the preprint sites, as when Elsevier bought out SSRN:

https://www.techdirt.com/2016/05/17/disappointing-elsevier-buys-open-access-academic-pre-publisher-ssrn/

Academics were elated in 2011, when Alexandra Elbakyan founded Sci-Hub, a shadow library that aims to make the entire corpus of scholarly work available without barrier, fear or favor:

https://sci-hub.ru/alexandra

Sci-Hub neutralized much of the collective action trap: once an article was available on Sci-Hub, it became much easier for other scholars to locate and cite, which reduced the case for paying for, or publishing in, the cartel's journals:

https://arxiv.org/pdf/2006.14979

The scholarly publishing cartel fought back viciously, suing Elbakyan and Sci-Hub for tens of millions of dollars. Elsevier targeted prepress sites like academia.edu with copyright threats, ordering them to remove scholarly papers that linked to Sci-Hub:

https://svpow.com/2013/12/06/elsevier-is-taking-down-papers-from-academia-edu/

This was extremely (if darkly) funny, because Elsevier's own publications are full of citations to Sci-Hub:

https://eve.gd/2019/08/03/elsevier-threatens-others-for-linking-to-sci-hub-but-does-it-itself/

Meanwhile, scholars kept the pressure up. Tens of thousands of scholars pledged to stop submitting their work to Elsevier:

http://thecostofknowledge.com/

Academics at the very tops of their fields publicly resigned from the editorial board of leading Elsevier journals, and published editorials calling the Elsevier model unethical:

https://www.theguardian.com/science/blog/2012/may/16/system-profit-access-research

And the New Scientist called the racket "indefensible," decrying the it as an industry that made restricting access to knowledge "more profitable than oil":

https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg24032052-900-time-to-break-academic-publishings-stranglehold-on-research/

But the real progress came when academics convinced their institutions, rather than one another, to do something about these predator publishers. First came funders, private and public, who announced that they would only fund open access work:

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-018-06178-7

Winning over major funders cleared the way for open access advocates worked both the supply-side and the buy-side. In 2019, the entire University of California system announced it would be cutting all of its Elsevier subscriptions:

https://www.science.org/content/article/university-california-boycotts-publishing-giant-elsevier-over-journal-costs-and-open

Emboldened by the UC system's principled action, MIT followed suit in 2020, announcing that it would no longer send $2m every year to Elsevier:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/12/digital-feudalism/#nerdfight

It's been four years since MIT's decision to boycott Elsevier, and things are going great. The open access consortium SPARC just published a stocktaking of MIT libraries without Elsevier:

https://sparcopen.org/our-work/big-deal-knowledge-base/unbundling-profiles/mit-libraries/

How are MIT's academics getting by without Elsevier in the stacks? Just fine. If someone at MIT needs access to an Elsevier paper, they can usually access it by asking the researchers to email it to them, or by downloading it from the researcher's site or a prepress archive. When that fails, there's interlibrary loan, whereby other libraries will send articles to MIT's libraries within a day or two. For more pressing needs, the library buys access to individual papers through an on-demand service.

This is how things were predicted to go. The libraries used their own circulation data and the webservice Unsub to figure out what they were likely to lose by dropping Elsevier – it wasn't much!

https://unsub.org/

The MIT story shows how to break a collective action problem – through collective action! Individual scholarly boycotts did little to hurt Elsevier. Large-scale organized boycotts raised awareness, but Elsevier trundled on. Sci-Hub scared the shit out of Elsevier and raised awareness even further, but Elsevier had untold millions to spend on a campaign of legal terror against Sci-Hub and Elbakyan. But all of that, combined with high-profile defections, made it impossible for the big institutions to ignore the issue, and the funders joined the fight. Once the funders were on-side, the academic institutions could be dragged into the fight, too.

Now, Elsevier – and the cartel – is in serious danger. Automated tools – like the Authors Alliance termination of transfer tool – lets academics get the copyright to their papers back from the big journals so they can make them open access:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/26/take-it-back/

Unimaginably vast indices of all scholarly publishing serve as important adjuncts to direct access shadow libraries like Sci-Hub:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/28/clintons-ghost/#cornucopia-concordance

Collective action problems are never easy to solve, but they're impossible to address through atomized, individual action. It's only when we act as a collective that we can defeat the corruption – the concentrated gains and diffuse losses – that allow greedy, unscrupulous corporations to steal from us, wreck our lives and even imprison us.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/16/the-public-sphere/#not-the-elsevier

[minarisplaything]

Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim

pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+

 It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.

Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"

"SURPRISE!!!"

A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.

"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.

"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.

The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.

“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.

“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."

Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.

You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.

"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."

Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.

Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.

"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."

An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.

“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”

The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."

“Does that make me the talented one?”

The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.

Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”

Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.

“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”

“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.

“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.

“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."

"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.

A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”

“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.

You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.

“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”

You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.

“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”

The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.

It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.

After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.

“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.

“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.

“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.

Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.

"Do you dance?" 

It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you. 

Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"

Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!" 

She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.

If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.

"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.

Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.

"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.

The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top.  As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again. 

“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.

You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.

“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music. 

And you were. Very much so in fact. 

After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end. 

It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse. 

“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”

Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged. 

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.

You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.

No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.

“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”

What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably. 

Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.

When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.

“Hey,” you called out.

“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you. 

“Decided to take a break?”

“Something like that.”

“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.

Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her. 

“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…” 

Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”

This was it. Your chance.

“I can take you home if you want.”

A wicked grin crossed her features. 

“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”

LATER THAT NIGHT…

Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.

From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.

Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.

Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.

“I didn’t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.

“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”

Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.

“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”

“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.

“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”

The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.

The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.

“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.

She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.

“Fuck…”

“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.

“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.

Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.

Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.

"Fucking hell," you grunted.

"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.

As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.

"Harder," she gasped.

"Yes ma'am."

Every time you entered her from behind it  resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with. 

It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.

"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."

"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.

"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.

You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.

"Jesus christ..."

When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.

"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Task Force 141 Metal Band AU x Backup Singer Female Reader

Signing a contract as a touring backup vocalist with 141 Music Group is a dream come true. Their newest masked metal band, Lechery, is making waves across Europe, and they’re about to set foot in North America for their biggest tour yet. And you’re going with them. At their final show for their European tour, you attend a private afterparty. The masks come off, and you realize quickly that the men behind the masks are from your past. You thought you’d never see them again. You thought it was over. But they haven’t forgotten. You agree to a few days, insisting that it means nothing, but there is an entire tour ahead of you, and they are loathe to let you slip away again.

Content, Tags, Warnings, & Tropes: Reverse Harem, Why Choose, F/M/M/M/M, second chances, suggestive themes, possessive / jealous / obsessive behavior, partying dynamics, rekindled romance, denial of feelings (graphic chapters will be marked with ** which indicates a Community Label)

Chapters: (ongoing) One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty // Twenty-One // Twenty-Two // Twenty-Three // Twenty-Four // Twenty-Five // Twenty-Six // Twenty-Seven // Twenty-Eight // Twenty-Nine // Thirty // Thirty-One // Thirty-Two // Thirty-Three // Thirty-Four // Thirty-Five // Thirty-Six // Thirty-Seven // Thirty-Eight // Thirty-Nine // Forty // Forty-One // Forty-Two // Forty-Three // Forty-Four // Forty-Five // Forty-Six // Forty-Seven // Forty-Eight // Forty-Nine // Fifty

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @haven-1307 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria

@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

@dakotakazansky @talooolaaloolla @hantheconqueror @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah

[callmerainman]

BREAK FROM HEAVEN | Adam x fem!angel!Reader

FIRST PART

plot. Adam, the First Man and Heaven rockstar, invited you to his concert's after-party. Soon, you find yourself making out with him in a nightclub, and the night won't stop here.

word count. 2.1k

tags. smut, Adam being Adam, rockstar!Adam, partying, nightclubs, smoking, making out, hooking up, one night stands, p in v sex, premature ejaculation, asking out, humour, soft dom!Adam

TW! SMUT AHEAD, minors DNI, 18+

a/n. one of the scenes in this fic is obviously a reference to The Wolf Of Wall Street (I love it in a "funny well made irreverent movie" way not in a "alpha sigma grindset" way)

God works in mysterious ways, they say. But nothing is more mysterious to you than the way you ended up in this situation. Making out in a nightclub with Adam, the First Man.

Straddling him on a couch, arms around his neck, lips and tongues busy in a slow dance. One of his hands is placed on your exposed waist and the other is shoved inside the back pocket of your jeans, as he gives your ass sporadic squeezes. Electronic music booms in your eardrums, so loud that you can’t even hear your own thoughts, just the wet sounds of your kisses. Suddenly, Adam pulls away from your lips. You blink a few times, then he leans in, and whispers something in your ear that only you two and hear. As if this night couldn’t get any crazier.

After attending his concert, Adam invited you to join the exclusive after party. You two chatted, discussed music and bands with Adam insisting on your taste being questionable as you made your way towards the night club. There, he proposed you to move your conversations to the dance floor, where you swayed to the beats of electronic music. What a hypocrite he is, you thought. Always blabbering about what is real music and what’s not, and then dancing and enjoying meaningless bass booms. Adam offered you and all his band mates drinks, made you company outside the club for a cigarette break, then took your hand to guide yourselves in the crowd back inside. Oh he was obviously flirting.

“Didn’t take you for a party girl” he playfully said to you.

And then, he placed his hands on your waist as you two started swinging side to side on the floor. Your cheeks caught fire. You knew that he was flirting with you. But then why did you feel your knees melt like butter under his golden irises, so penetrating even in the semi-darkness of the club?Adam is one of your superiors, you shouldn’t even think about flirting back. But oh, fuck it.

“Are you calling me a pain in the ass?” you smirked.

Adam chuckled and pulled you closer, brushing the question off and keeping on dancing. When you said you wanted to take a break, he followed you to one of the reserved tables of the club, sitting next to you. As you and the First Man kept talking, suddenly you found yourself snuggled on his side, his arm around your shoulders, one hand on your thighs and your lips dangerously close to his. And then, all of a sudden, with the audacity typical of an egocentric jerk like him, Adam asked you.

“Wanna make out?”

And, without a word, you just did. You nonchalantly shrugged, and leaned in to welcome his lips. And now here you are, sloppily making out with Adam, as if your entire lives depended on it. Adam tasted so bad, but in a good way. Cigarettes and alcohol, the typical party flavor. He couldn’t keep his hands on himself, letting them roam over your body lasciviously. You, yourself, couldn’t stay still as you found yourself occasionally grinding against his lap. Then, after stopping to catch hair, Adam’s lips got close to your ear.

“Wanna go somewhere more private, sweetie?”

—

You and Adam tumble inside his bedroom, smacking of lips reverberating through the room along with your suffocated giggles. Adam, mouth still interlocked with yours, shuts the door close with a firm kick.

“Oh shit-“ Adam stutters between kisses “you’re too-much”

You go “pff” at his statement, making sure to never miss the chance to kiss him so messily. As you and Adam make your way towards the bed, you realize that you don’t want to question your decisions anymore. You’re enjoying this, a lot. Even if he’s literally the First Man, his authority doesn’t matter to you anymore because you just prefer being carried away.

Dropping on the edge of the bed, Adam looks up at your figure standing in front of him, running his hands up and down your waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll never have a reason to listen to The Smiths again” he says, a smirk radiating lust from a kilometer.

Oh, you’re gonna have fun. You raise an eyebrow, pretending to be confused.

“Fucking me? Who said I’ll have sex with you” you inquire.

Adam’s mouth falls open, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips, and then his touch leaving your skin. You try your best not to burst out laughing.

“Bitch, why would I invite you to my place for? Playing chess? We’re eating each other’s faces!” he protests.

“We could just make out”

“But- what the”

There’s no way you actually managed to make Adam shut the fuck up. You literally left him with no words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, in search of something to say.

You chuckle, leaning towards him “While I think about it, and I’ll reeeally have to, I’ll go to the bathroom. Can you wait for me?”

Adam frowns “Whatever bi-…ugh I mean yeah okay, first door to your right”

As you disappear in the corridor connecting his bedroom and the bathroom, Adam is left all alone and guessing. He, somehow, had a way with women, and if things escalated to the point where one of them was in his room, sex was always took for granted. Except when Lute crashes to his place to eat junk food and watch TV. But making out in a club with a girl, moving things all the way to his bed, and then second-guessing the idea of having sex? For Adam, the situation is new and desperate. Also considering how much he's thirsting over you, and how rock hard his dick is inside his pants. So, Adam resorts to the only thing left to do.

Praying.

In a hurry, Adam falls down on his knees and joins his hands. He looks up, his golden eyes pleading.

“Hey God, it’s me, Adam, your favorite! I know I’ve been slacking off a bit lately but I’m still your number one creation, am I right? I promise I’ll pay you a visit first chance I get, you know I’ve been pretty busy with concerts and everything. But in the meantime, I’m begging you please, let me fuck this woman!”

As soon as Adam hears the bathroom door unlocking, he frantically gets up, facing the wall. And then, the second he turns around, a wheeze accidentally escapes his mouth. He officially lost the ability to talk a second time.

Because here you are, leaning on the doorframe. Naked. Except for your high socks. A calm smile is extended on your face, as Adam can’t do nothing but stare at you completely dumbfounded. Maybe God heard, after all.

“So? Changed your mind?” you coo, teasingly.

Adam finally manages to recollect his thoughts and put himself together.

“Holy fuckin’ shit balls, no!”

In the end, of course Adam fucked your brains out.

For eleven seconds!

Plunged inside you between your thighs, Adam gives a few more convulsive thrusts, along with strangled moans of release. His wings twitch and his glowing halo flickers. Damn if he cums loudly.

“Fuck, holy fuck I’m…I” he pants, looking down at your stiffened frame with mortified eyes.

“Did you cum?” you ask, frowning in confusion of what just happened.

“Yeah…did you?”

You shake your head “No…”

How was that man put on Earth with the purpose of having sex and yet didn’t have a clue? Sighing, Adam rolls off of you, lying on his back. He looks down at you, and you reciprocate his gaze.

“I can get hard again though” Adam says.

As you give him a small, reassuring smile, Adam brings his hand under the sheets and starts stroking himself, in an attempt to pump his dick up again. Quite the mission, considering that he came a lot. But he persists, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his face in concentration as he emits choked groans of fatigue.

"Ngrh..."

“Adam, don’t worry there’s no need to-oh shit” you eyes widen when you look down.

Adam is getting hard again. With what seems like a biblical effort, but he’s actually managing to pull it off. And there it is, the original dick in all its glory, back again after a previous, proficient orgasm. Adam turns towards you with a smirk, and wiggles his eyebrows.

“They don’t call me dickmaster for nothing” he says, before eagerly getting on top of you again.

The urge of asking him if that nickname was self-proclaimed is high, but you don’t have time for that. You find yourself giggling as Adam attacks your neck with his lips, you feel him smirking against it. He slides back inside of you. The filling sensation causes your nails to leave trails of red marks along his back, right between the base of his golden wings. Pleasure invades every inch of your body as Adam slowly gets to the right spot, grazing it lightly at first before speeding up the pace.

“Mh, you don’t realize how fucking hot you were when you came back, all naked for me” Adam whispers, managing to keep up the pace.

You try to talk, but the moans escaping your mouth impede it. You wanna talk back to his cocky, arrogant self, but you’re too overwhelmed by your own pleasure and the sound of skin against skin reverberating through the room as Adam snaps his hips against yours.

“Adam, please don’t stop” you whine, your face scrunching in pleasure as your legs clench desperately around his lower back.

Adam chuckles, the grin on his face devilish. You don’t want to boost his already titanic ego, but it’s hard not to praise him when he’s fucking you so good. One of his hands runs up your stomach, reaching for one of your tits. He fondles it as his pace fastens, the bedsprings creaking and your moans even more desperate. The obscene sensations are evident even on Adam’s face. His shit-eating grin disappeared, replaced with an overwhelmed, flushed face. His mouth is open, gasping for air as a series of disconnected moans flow out of his lips. You didn't even realize that his hands had moved from your breasts to your own hands, interlocking them firmly over your head.

For a second, you and Adam also lock eyes. His pupils are dilated so dangerously, completely lost in the moment. But you're sure that yours are the same. Ugh, why did he have to be so fine?

As you feel your climax approaching, your wings inadvertently wrap around your naked bodies. With a flap, Adam's golden ones do the same, encapsulating your both as you get close to your climax.

"Told I would fuck-ah oh shit yes- I would fuck your bad music taste out of your body" Adam stutters, sending you a mischievous grin as his thrust become more erratic.

You smirk back "But I'm not finished yet-ohh oh holy fuck no I take it back I'm coming"

And with your withdrawn statement, you reach your orgasm, your sex clenching around his dick as it twitches inside of you.

"Aw, cumming already? Can't take the original dick? Well, I can go all night long babe, cause- oh holy shit no I'm coming again too, forget it!"

For a second time that night, Adam sloppily comes inside of you, announcing it with a twitch of his wings and flickers of his halo. He loudly groans in the crook of your neck as you try to steady your breath.

After Adam finishes, he collapses next to you.

"You um...you did cum now did you?"

"Yeah I definitely did"

"Awesomeee"

You give yourselves a couple of minutes to come down your high, pleasure still lingering on your body as you two pant out of exhaustion.

Adam runs a hand through his hair "Shit, that was good"

You felt good, that's what he was thinking. But admitting it would be too much for him. You wipe the back of your hand on your forehead, and nod.

"I think we agree on this one" you sigh.

Adam slides an arm behind your back, pulling you close to his naked chest as you lay your head on it. His heart is still trying to pump enough blood to soothe him. You close your eyes, relaxed.

"Still wanna listen to your sad Brit rock music?" he asks.

"Oh sure, wanna listen to it now to improve after sex? The Cure or-"

"Hell no!"

You chuckle, and Adam twists on his side to face you. His hand reaches your lower back and starts rubbing circles against your skin with the tip of his fingers, in the gap between your wings.

"Are you free tomorrow for dinner, sweet tits? I know a place that makes the best ribs" he says, smiling down at you intently.

Your eyes widen, surprised.

"Inviting me to dinner is not really a groupie thing, y'know?"

"Who said you're a groupie"

"You said it, last week when you invited me to the concert"

"Yeaaah, right. Maybe you are. You still can spare me some time for dinner".

Your hand extends to touch the strands of hair falling on his forehead. What an asshole, you think.

"I'm not but sure, tomorrow for dinner then"

[lovezbrownies]

Mockingbird. (Fem!Yandere Pop Idol x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

(Coudln't pick between making her an american pop idol or a k-pop idol so i made her both! She's half American and half Korean and makes variety solo music while in her band :))

Synopsis: While trying to earn your paycheck as a Audio Tech, you manage to catch the eyes of the magnetic, Grammy winning Yuna Claire.

Under the spotlight, Yuna Claire was perfection—every note, every glance choreographed for the adoration of thousands. But when her eyes landed on you, their fire softened into something sharper, something that burned with a dangerous kind of focus. You’d noticed her at first only because of Yuna's fame, the admiration people lavished on her so excessive it was hard to ignore. It was after a concert that she’d approached you, alone in the backstage crowd, moving with a deliberate pace that only you seemed oblivious to.

She’d started with a polite introduction, a charming laugh. Fans had parted around Yuna, gaping as if she were a goddess, while you gave her a casual nod, barely glancing her way. If anything, you’d appeared more captivated by the band posters on the walls. Yuna wasn’t deterred, though. Instead, she leaned in, her words silken, inviting you to a private after-party. Her words were sugar, her gaze hypnotic—but something didn’t feel quite right. And still, her allure was undeniable, almost magnetic.

But you had your own reasons for resisting. The world of flashing lights and obsessive fans didn’t appeal to you, and the drama of idol life felt exhausting just to observe. You'd given her a nonchalant smile, declining politely, leaving Yuna alone in a corridor of confused and shocked onlookers.

Yuna didn’t give up. For weeks after that, her messages appeared daily, each one a bit more intense than the last, though always wrapped in a veneer of politeness. She’d send short, casual notes about her day, like Yuna was trying to convince you of her “normal” side. Then came the carefully crafted photos, her smile dazzling, eyes dark with something unsettling. Still, Yuna knew just how to tread the line between flirty and forward, between coy and committed.

But you didn’t respond, letting your silence answer in your place.

The silence only seemed to make her bolder.

Soon, small “gifts” began appearing. They were subtle at first: a book you’d mentioned liking left anonymously on your doorstep, a handwritten letter slipped into your bag somehow, perfume lingering on the pages. Then, one day, your phone buzzed, and there was a photo attached—a candid shot of you in a coffee shop, reading. The angle was wrong, too close, taken without your notice. The caption beneath read, “I love how focused you look.”

By now, you’d pieced together Yuna's persistence and presence. She was relentless, yet subtle. You’d heard rumors that she had been known to ghost her managers, locking herself away from the world for weeks until she’d get what she wanted. Those who defied her had been known to face mysterious career setbacks, projects canceled without reason. And now, that ambition—obsession—had found its focus on you.

One evening, you returned home to find Yuna waiting at your door. Her smile was radiant as ever, but there was an edge to her eyes, a desperation swimming beneath her polished exterior. Yuna wore a hoodie, as though trying to blend into your world, her gloved hands hidden in her pockets.

“You haven’t answered me,” Yuna said, her voice soft yet unyielding. “I thought… maybe in person you’d give me a chance.”

Her gaze didn’t waver as you fumbled for your keys, blocking your way. She leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath. “Please,” she murmured, her voice low and nearly pleading, though her eyes told a different story.

“I’m… really not interested,” you managed, keeping your tone polite but firm.

The smile on Yuna's face tightened, her fingers flexing slightly as she stood still, the air heavy with her scent and the weight of her expectations. The seconds stretched, her intense silence trapping you until she finally spoke again, her voice softer, almost disarmingly gentle.

“I can change your mind.” It wasn’t a question, more like a fact she’d already accepted. She shifted, a gleam flickering in her gaze as she stepped closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I just need a little more time to show you how much you mean to me. You wouldn’t turn me away if you knew how long I’ve waited to find someone like you.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, her intensity seeping into the air between you. The way Yuna looked at you—as though you were the one person in a world of facades—stirred something uncomfortable, something deeply unsettling. But behind that, a chill ran down your spine, the unease creeping in as her gaze lingered, too steady, too fixed, a promise hidden in the depths of her stare.

“I just… want to be left alone,” you said softly, pushing the words out, feeling the way they seemed to make her freeze for a moment, like she was memorizing the rejection, absorbing it before it sank into her.

And then, Yuna's smile widened, her voice tinged with an eerie, honeyed calm. “You’ll change your mind,” she murmured, pressing a soft hand to your arm. “I have all the time in the world for you. And don’t worry—I won’t be far.”

She let her fingers linger just a moment too long before stepping back, her gaze never leaving yours as she turned, leaving you in the dim hallway. And as she walked away, you felt a cold certainty that this was only the beginning.

A few days passed with nothing more than a tense silence and a faint scent of her perfume lingering in your mind. You tried to shake her memory, the look in her eyes that had lingered too long, the unwavering way Yuna had spoken as if her persistence was just a matter of inevitability. But Yuna had fallen quiet, her presence slipping back into the shadows. You told yourself that maybe she’d taken the hint, that perhaps her attention had finally shifted.

But soon, small traces of her began appearing everywhere. It started innocently enough: a coffee cup with Yuna's autograph on the sleeve sitting outside your door one morning, her signature sharp and elaborate. Then, one day, a bouquet of deep red roses appeared—delivered straight to your office, the envelope tucked inside holding only a single message in her elegant handwriting: You missed my last concert. I was thinking of you the whole time. You could almost hear her voice in the words, soft and unhurried, like a gentle reminder she would never let you go.

Still, you kept your distance, responding to her with only silence, the only reaction you could give that felt remotely safe. But Yuna's gifts continued, each more intimate than the last. One night, you found a plush blanket folded perfectly at your doorstep, the fabric woven with her initials stitched carefully into the corner. You left it there, untouched, but the next morning, it was gone, replaced by a small silver necklace, engraved with the words, Forever yours.

By now, you were beginning to feel Yuna's presence even when she wasn’t there. You couldn’t walk down the street without glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting her to step out from the shadows, her voice low and calm, as if she’d just been waiting for you to look her way. It made the world feel smaller, her influence extending far beyond the glossy photoshoots and stage lights. She wasn’t just a presence on screens or in songs; she was a shadow, creeping into every quiet corner of your life.

It was on a rainy night that she finally crossed the line. You were sitting at your kitchen table, half-awake and nursing a cup of coffee, trying to shake off the unease that had followed you home. There was a knock on your door, soft but unmissable. Your heart dropped, a part of you already knowing who it would be.

Reluctantly, you opened the door, and there she was—drenched from the rain, her hair clinging to her face, lips painted red but smudged slightly as though she’d been rushing. Her eyes were wide and focused, her gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made you want to step back, but she was faster, already inside before you could say anything.

“Why haven’t you answered me?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, but the sharpness was unmistakable. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to give you time, but you’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Yuna shook her head, her fingers curling into fists, her gaze brimming with something raw and desperate. “I’ve waited so long to find someone who doesn’t see me as just entertainment,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly. “Everyone else is obsessed with the idea of me, but you… You’re real. You’re the only real thing in my world, and I won’t let you ignore me.”

Her words were laced with a haunting vulnerability, but there was an edge there, a dark gleam in her eye that made your skin prickle. She took a step forward, and before you could react, her hands were on your arms, her grip surprisingly strong as she pulled you close.

“Do you know what it’s like to be worshipped by everyone but feel completely alone?” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. “No one sees me like you do. You can’t understand what that means to me… what you mean to me.”

Her fingers traced along your arms, almost possessively, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again, filled with a sorrowful intensity that left you speechless. Her voice softened, barely above a whisper, but there was an unmistakable steel behind her words. “If I have to tear down every wall, break every distance between us, I will. You don’t understand how much I need you. You don’t know what it feels like to need someone the way I need you.”

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened, her fingers pressing into your skin. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes, like she was fighting something darker, something she couldn’t control. Yuna's voice grew softer, almost pleading, a softness masking something much more intense. “I’ll be everything for you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her hands on your arms. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll leave the spotlight if I have to… if that’s what it takes.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with an eerie promise, a willingness to unravel her entire life just for a chance to stay by your side. You could feel her desperation, her obsession suffocating, seeping into the space between you until it felt like a cage.

“Please,” you finally said, managing to pry her hands off, your voice steady though your heart was pounding. “I don’t want this. I never asked for it, and you need to understand that.”

Her face fell, her expression wavering as though the weight of your rejection was physically painful. But after a moment, she smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You think you don’t want this now,” she said softly, her voice gentle, yet chilling. “But you just haven’t given me a chance to show you. I’ll change your mind… I know I will.”

With that, she took a step back, her gaze lingering as she brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. Her voice was soft, affectionate, but there was something almost dangerous in it now, something unyielding. “I’ll be seeing you,” she whispered, almost like a promise, before turning and slipping out into the rain.

As the door clicked shut behind her, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew, with an unsettling certainty, that this wasn’t over. And somehow, a part of you wondered if it ever would be.

You sank into a chair, heart pounding as you tried to shake off the echo of her words. But her presence lingered, curling around you like smoke, insistent and inescapable. Every shadow in your apartment seemed to hold her gaze, every sound just outside the door felt like her footsteps waiting to step back into your world.

In the days that followed, it was as if she’d slipped into your life like a shadow cast just beyond reach. It started small again—your phone buzzing with her messages, her number somehow bypassing the blocks you’d put in place. A photo of the view from her hotel room, sent late at night with a message below: This would look better if you were here. Each time you saw her name appear, a tightness grew in your chest, the constant reminder that she was watching, waiting.

When you went out, she was there, always just out of sight but close enough that you could feel her, as if her gaze was a constant weight on the back of your neck. She lingered at cafes, always alone at a distant table, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, never taking them off until you’d met her stare for just a moment too long. She’d nod, that half-smile twisting into something more when she saw the flicker of discomfort on your face.

One evening, you arrived home to find a package waiting for you—an expensive leather-bound journal, its cover engraved with your initials. Inside, she’d filled pages with a mix of her own thoughts, scrawled lyrics, and snapshots of herself, each one accompanied by a handwritten note. Some were simple—Thinking of you—while others were bolder: You belong in my life. The scent of her perfume clung to every page, making it feel as though she’d marked each one as her own. The effect was suffocating.

You tried to shake it off, tried to return to normal. You avoided places she’d visited, tried to take different routes, anything to break free of the feeling of being watched. But no matter where you went, she was always one step ahead, a quiet but relentless shadow. And then one night, as you sat in a dimly lit bar, she slipped into the seat across from you, her presence as bold and unyielding as ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you murmured, your voice betraying the surprise and unease that flooded your senses.

She simply tilted her head, a knowing smile curling her lips. “I told you, didn’t I? I’d be seeing you again.” Her fingers drummed on the table, her gaze never leaving yours. “You keep avoiding me, but I know what you really need, what you’re afraid to admit.” Her words were soft, intimate, as though she were whispering them just for you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you replied, keeping your tone even, though it felt like you were trying to steady yourself on a tightrope. “This obsession… it’s not what you think it is.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes gleamed with a chilling certainty. “You’ve made me wait, given me time to understand what you really need. I know what it’s like to be surrounded by people who don’t see you… but I see everything about you.” She leaned closer, her voice low and steady, her gaze intense enough to hold you in place. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not until you realize that we belong together.”

She pulled out a silver key, placing it on the table between you, a soft clink breaking the heavy silence. “I had a spare made,” she murmured, her voice a ghost of a whisper, as though confessing a secret. “I didn’t want to intrude too much, but… it’s better this way. I don’t have to wait for you to come to me—I can just find you when you’re ready.”

A chill swept through you, and the faint smile on her lips made it clear she knew exactly the effect she was having on you. She reached out, her fingers grazing the back of your hand, her touch soft yet possessive. “You’re afraid now,” she murmured, her eyes softening just enough to mimic tenderness. “But I’m willing to wait. I’m patient. I’ll give you all the time you need… because in the end, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly understands you.”

Before you could respond, she rose, leaving the key glinting in the dim light between you, a symbol of the door she had already opened, the boundary she’d so carefully, and deliberately, crossed. And as she walked away, you realized, with a sinking certainty, that there was no escaping her.

[enhyunj]

› ECSTASY | P.SH ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

masterlist

pairing: football player!sunghoon x cheerleader!afab!reader

genre: smut

word count: ≈ 1.3k

warnings: drug use (I DONT CONDONE IT) + alcohol consumption

synopsis: At a vibrant party, you and Sunghoon escape to his bedroom for a private moment. Amidst passion and shared indulgences, your connection intensifies, making for a memorable and intimate night together.

NOTE: THEYRE IN COLLEGE NOT HIGHSCHOOL!! THEYRE BOTH 20+ 😭🙏🏼🙏🏼

The party is already in full swing when you and your friends finally make your entrance. The night has been eagerly anticipated-a chance to unwind and have fun with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, and your close-knit group. You spot him immediately, his tall, broad frame commanding attention in his letterman jacket. He's engrossed in conversation with his football teammates, a bottle of beer in his hand. The sight of him sends a thrill through you, especially because of the secret you've brought tonight—a little surprise just for the two of you. A sly smile tugs at your lips as you weave your way through the crowded room toward him.

"Hey, babe," you greet him, sidling up next to him. Sunghoon turns, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he sees you.

He leans down, wrapping his strong arms around you, and kisses you deeply. The taste of beer on his breath mixes with his cologne creating an intoxicating blend.

"You’re here," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

You laugh, a light, musical sound that draws the attention of his teammates. "I had some cheer things to handle first," you explain with a playful grin.

Sunghoon chuckles, his warm breath tickling your skin. "Well, now that you're here, stay close. I don't want to lose you in this crowd."

Blushing at the attention, you nod and link your arm through his, resting your hand on his bicep. Together, you navigate the party, drinking, dancing, and laughing. The energy of the room is electric, and you feel alive, wrapped in the warmth of Sunghoon's presence.

As the night progresses, you and Sunghoon find a secluded corner away from the loud music and boisterous guests. He pulls you close, his hands roaming your body, igniting a fire within you. Your hearts pound in unison, and the heat between you is palpable. His lips find yours again, and you kiss passionately, tongues entwining in a dance of desire.

"Let's get out of here," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

You nod, eyes sparkling with anticipation. Taking his hand, you lead him upstairs to his bedroom. The familiar coziness of the room, with posters of his favorite bands on the walls and a neatly made bed, welcomes you.

Closing the door behind you, you turn to face Sunghoon, your eyes shining with desire. He wastes no time, pulling you into a hungry kiss. Your hands explore his body, feeling the hard planes of his chest and the smooth skin of his back.

"I've been waiting for this all night," he groans, his voice thick with longing.

You smile, a thrill running through you.

"Me too."

With nimble fingers, you begin unbuttoning his shirt, kissing along his jawline. Sunghoon helps you undress, his hands shaking slightly as he reveals your body inch by inch. Soon, your clothes lie forgotten on the floor, and you're pressed against other, skin to skin.

You reach for the nightstand drawer, your heart pounding with excitement.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. "What do we have here?"

You produce a small bag of weed and a pipe, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Thought we could have a little fun."

Sunghoon's eyes light up, and he takes the pipe from you, packing it with the fragrant green herb. He lights it, inhaling deeply, and then passes it to you. You take a hit, the smoke filling your lungs, and exhale slowly, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

"That's good stuff," you murmur, snuggling into his side.

Sunghoon chuckles, his arms tightening around you. "Yeah, it is."

You lie there for a while, enjoying the pleasant buzz, the soft music from downstairs providing a soothing backdrop. Sunghoon strokes your hair, his touch gentle and loving.

"You know," he says, his voice low and rough, "I love it when you cheer. But I love it even more when it's just you and me."

You smile, a warm, contented feeling spreading through you. "I love it too. It's like we're in our own little world."

He kisses you then, a deep, passionate kiss that leaves you breathless. The weed has heightened your senses, and every touch, every sensation, feels amplified. You can feel your heart racing, your skin tingling, as Sunghoon's hands roam your body, exploring every curve.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I can't get enough of you."

You moan softly as he teases your neck with his lips and tongue. "Sunghoon..."

His name escapes your lips like a plea, and he responds by tracing a path of kisses down your body, his hands gripping your thighs. You can feel his desire, and it only els your own.

"I love your thighs," he murmurs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

"So soft and smooth."

You whimper as he nips at your skin, his hands squeezing your thighs lovingly.

"Please, Sunghoon..."

He chuckles, the vibrations tickling your skin. "Impatient, aren't we?"

Before you can respond, he enters you in one swift motion, filling you completely.

You cry out, your head thrown back, your body arching off the bed. Sunghoon groans, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to move, his thrusts deep and purposeful.

"Oh, God," you moan, your eyes screwed shut as pleasure washes over you.

"Sunghoon, yes..."

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he moves within you, his breath coming in sharp gasps. "You feel so good," he pants. "So tight."

You meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in perfect sync. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound blending with your passionate cries. The scent of sweat and sex fills the room, heightening the intensity of the moment.

"I'm close," you whisper, your nails digging into his back. "Sunghoon, don't stop."

"I won't," he grunts, his muscles tensing as he drives into you. "Come for me, baby."

Your bodies move together, the pace frantic now as you chase your release.

The pleasure builds and builds until you can't take it anymore. With a scream, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably. "Sunghoon!"

He follows close behind, his body stiffening as he fills you with his release.

He collapses onto the bed, pulling you close, his chest heaving. You lie there, your hearts pounding, your sweat-dampened bodies entwined.

"That was." Sunghoon trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

You smile, a feeling of contentment washing over you. "Incredible."

He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "Yeah. Incredible."

You snuggle closer, your heads resting on the same pillow. The two of you lie there in comfortable silence, your breathing slowly returning to normal. The party seems distant now, the only world that matters existing within these four walls.

"I love you, you know," Sunghoon says softly, his voice full of tenderness.

You smile, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through your chest. "I love you too."

And in that moment, with the soft glow of the moon illuminating your intertwined bodies, you know that this is where you're meant to be-safe and loved in the arms of your boyfriend, Sunghoon.

end note: I feel like it was kind of rushed but I lost motivation after writing a bit of it forgive me pls :33 sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes!!

[justmeinadaze]

Yin and Yang Part 2 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s), SMUT, voyeurism (technically; Eddie's not far lol), male masturbation, big dick Steve Harrington :P, dirty talk (LOTS of dirty talk), light spanking (once), light choking (once), established relationship mentioned and vaguely touched on between Steddie, aftercare always.

There's no real angst or fluff. Eddie does have a moment where he's worried about Y/N and does a temperature check but other than that nothing big. Just a lot of self indulgent smut. I have some ideas for more parts to expand on all three of them so more for sure because I am a thirsty lady.

Word Count: 4973

Part 1 here/ Donate to Me :)

It had been a little over three hours since you and your boyfriend had arrived at his best friend’s house and had yet to run into the host at all. To be fair, Steve Harrington’s house was much larger than even Eddie’s but the man told you he didn’t need a lot of space having grown up in a trailer. 

The party he had invited you both to was in full swing with guests running wild knowing they could leave any mess since they didn’t live here. People everywhere were lip locked with a significant other as hands roamed in places that were meant to be private. Drunk hooligans were screaming and shouting, some happy and others angry. 

A few guests like the man you loved were calmly talking shop as you remained at his side. You’d be lying however if you said you weren’t a little…bored. 

“Eddie, Chemical Waste is a great band with a magnificent drummer but I don’t see how you’re going to get the general public to attach to them the way they did Corroded Coffin.”, a man in a suit practically whined making even you cringe. 

“And that’s why I bring in more money than you, Jesse. I don’t take good sounds for granted especially where a rock band fits in any aspect of life.”

“Pfft please! It’s not like you can get in the mood to metal.”

“Hm. Well, you’re definitely not fucking any woman right then.”, Eddie replied cheekily as he glanced your way. “Are you alright?”, he asked, noticing your antsy demeanor. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m going to go outside for a bit and get some air.”

“I’ll come with you—”

“No, Eddie. It’s alright. I won’t be long.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you should be wondering around here alone.” When you sigh and roll your eyes, his own irises shift into that particular dark look you had come to know very well. Taking a step closer to you, he lowered his voice so only you would be able to hear. “Do I need to scold you here in front of all these people, little girl? Is that the first impression you want to make?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, Daddy.”

His chocolate eyes flick to the balcony patio outside before sighing heavily himself. 

“Go out that door but don’t go where I can’t see you.”

“Okay…”, you reply but when you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist, pulling you to his chest and lightly kisses your lips making you smile. “I love you.”

“I love you to.”

***

Leaning against the railing, you took in the city around you. Being with a famous music producer allowed you to see parts of the world you never thought you’d get to experience even just in the town you were from. Coming from a small area with very little money, you were barely able to cross the street let alone a state line to see new things. 

You never took for granted the sights and places Eddie took you to even if it was just the inside of hotel room for a lay over to the next place. The first time he flew you somewhere, you cried, fearing you were taking advantage him. 

“Baby, it’s ok. I like taking you on trips like this and seeing you have fun.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like this is the only reason I’m with you.”

Eddie chuckles at your statement as if it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard and pulls you into his embrace. 

“The fact that you’re worried about that tells me you’re different than the other people I’ve met. No one even cares enough to be concerned about that kind of thing.”

“Does Eddie know you’re out here all by your lonesome?” You jump at the sound of the man’s voice who immediately throws up his hands in surrender. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to startle you. To be honest, I thought you were just some woman who snuck in because I didn’t remember inviting someone as gorgeous as you.” He smirked cockily when you blushed, leaning his elbow against the railing. 

“Then of course I remembered my best friend was bringing his girl over. Hi, I’m Steve Harrington.”

When he extended his hand to yours, you shook it relaying your name softly as he continued to hold your palm. 

“So does he know? Eddie? That you’re out here alone?”

“Of course.”, you grin as your eyes gesture towards your boyfriend whose own eyes met his friends as he smiled. 

“Oh, of course.”, he teased as he obnoxiously waved his way. “I’m not going to lie, a part of me was hoping there was a bit of a bad girl in that sexy dress so we could have a bit more fun. Nothing hotter than watching Eddie get tightly wound.”

When your head tilted to the side, he chuckled as he took a sip of the whiskey in his glass. 

“I guess he didn’t tell you. That’s alright. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm you when it’s your first time meeting me. I understand that.”

“I wouldn’t get overwhelmed.”

“No? It wouldn’t intimidate you to know that Eddie and I have fucked before?”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as a steady breath escaped your lips. The action itself didn’t intimidate you but the casual way he was speaking about it as if he was talking about the weather. 

“N-No…it doesn’t intimidate me. You’re a lot more forward than he is.”

“Pfft, you’re not wrong.”, he laughs. “I spent most of life being pushed around by my father so I decided when I got my own company I’d never do that again. If I wanted something, I’d say it.”

“He’s teaching me how to do that. I’m not great at that especially when I’m…”

“When you’re what, honey? Tell me.”

“W-When I’m calling him Daddy.”

“You mean when you’re in that little girl headspace?” A bit to aggressively you nod your head making his smile widen as his palm reaches out to caress your cheek. “I can help you with that, pretty girl, if you want me to.”

“Wait.”, you reply suddenly grasping his wrist and his eyes promptly fill with genuine concern. “I just, um, everyone here thinks I’m with Eddie. I mean I am with Eddie but… if people see you touching me like this it could affect his business. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that or anything.”

Again, Steve’s head tilts.

“Huh. You’re more worried about him and how he’ll be perceived than yourself?”

“To an extent. People can think whatever they want independently. You can’t control that but if it interrupts my life or his or even yours…”

For a second, you thought you may have offended him with how his jaw jutted out and he clicked his tongue against his teeth until he started addressing people outside. 

“Attention! Everyone listen up! Thank you for coming but I need everyone to leave!” Murmurs and awkward giggles flow through the crowd before he claps his hands and shouts even louder. “You people heard me! Get the fuck out of my house! That’s right, come on now. Oh, I know. You’ll have to get free booze somewhere else.”

Your eyes widen as you power walk to your boyfriend and hastily loop your arm through his. 

“I think I did something wrong.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“H-He’s kicking us all out.”

“Not everyone, baby girl. We’re still welcome to stay unless you want to go.”, Eddie asks as his hand cups your cheek. “Do you want to leave?”

Glancing towards Steve, who was coming back down the hallway, ushering people out from the bedrooms while they hurriedly put back on their clothes, you shook your head and leaned on the boy’s shoulder. 

“No, Daddy, I don’t want to leave.”

He blinked as you used his title so freely without prompting and a sigh of relief left his chest; you were comfortable. 

“Yes, alright, alright. Thank you for coming and destroying my space. My cleaning lady would like me to remind you that she hates you all. Ok, ba-bye.”, the businessman continued to sass before slamming the door shut and raising his arms in victory. “All gone! Now it’s just us.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”, you respond meekly, grabbing his attention. 

Balancing his hands on his knees, Steve bends to your level as his soft eyes find yours. 

“Look at me, honey? Do I look upset?”, he asked in a calm tone.

“You kicked everyone out…”

“Yeah, you mentioned being afraid of ruining our businesses and reputation if people saw me touching or talking to you a certain way. I don’t care about the people I kicked out but I do care if you and Eddie are comfortable.” When he reached out to caress your cheek, this time you allowed it as you tenderly kissed the pad of his thumb as it grazed your lips making him smile. 

“Are you both hungry? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

###############

You giggled from your place on the sofa as you took a bite of the food Steve had ordered for you three while he continued to regale you with stories of his friendship with your boyfriend. 

“I kid you not, honey, this party in LA was insane. It reminded me of dance scene in Moulin Rouge where she dangles from the roof. Girls where dancing fucking everywhere and this guy acted like he was stepping into his office or some shit. Just like zero emotion painted on his face.”

“Look, that’s your scene, Harrington, not mine. I’m more into like metal shows and concerts, things like that. I don’t know how to be at a regular party let alone that.”

“I think you did well tonight, baby.”, you beam as you tilt towards him to kiss his cheek. 

Steve silently studies the exchange as his friend blushes and places his hand back on your calf to continue massaging your legs comfortingly. When you lean back against the couch your eyes linger on his smile before you turn towards the other man and notice that he was watching. 

“What about you, honey? What’s your scene?”

“Um…I’m not really sure to be honest. It may sound cliché but right now it’s Eddie. I love everywhere he takes me and places he shows me. I feel like I’m taking advantage though.”

“Baby, you’re not taking advantage. You know I love taking care of you.”

“I know but…I can’t help that I have a heart.”, you smile.

“Hm. Is that why you agreed to this? Because he wants you to?” When your gaze shifts his way and you flash him a confused look, Steve can’t help but sarcastically chuckle. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. The three of us know you’re not just here to meet me. There’s a whole other side to Mr. Munson here that no one knows about that I just find so fucking attractive.”

While he speaks Eddie’s eyes lock with his friends as his demeaner hardens while Steve cockily grins his way. 

“Eddie would never force me to do anything I didn’t want to.”

“Huh uh. Your point being…?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Mr. Harrington. I just know how important you are to him and I don’t…want to disappoint…”

“I highly doubt that’s possible, pretty girl.”, the businessman grins your way. “He means a lot to me to. Eddie’s saved me from myself a few times and been there when no one else was. Which is why I’m asking the questions that I am.” Slithering to the carpet, he scoots his body till he’s in front of you and takes your legs off Eddie’s lap to place them in front of himself. “We want you to do this because you want to. Not because you think it will appease him…which it will but…”, he chuckles. 

Your eyes scan over him as he waits for you to respond. 

Steve had taken some effort to dress up for his party donning a suit that haphazardly hung to his frame. After everyone left, he had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, leaving a couple of buttons open on his chest to show off the undershirt that barely covered the chest hair peeking through. 

His slacks were a bit baggy but the belt that clung to his waist accentuated his hips making you promptly want to wrap your arms around him. His hair, that had been styled when you first saw him, was now frayed due to him running his fingers through it as he spoke throughout the dinner and if he had bothered shaving this morning, you couldn’t tell with the light shades of hair that dusted his upper lip. 

While Steve came off strong, he radiated a safety that told you everything was ok and that you could trust him. 

“Can we go slow?”

“Of course. Of course, baby.”, Eddie comforts as he slides closer to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Just say Red like I taught you if you get uncomfortable, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you to, princess.”, he whispers as he kisses your lips. 

“Are there any hard no’s for either of you?”, Steve asked as his fingers slid down your legs till he reached your heel and began unbuttoning the clasp.

“She’s pretty timid so she’s not really into the rougher stuff.”

“Can she not tell me?”, the man snickers as he moves to your other foot. 

After rolling his eyes, Eddie gestured towards his friend urging you to answer. 

“I’m open to trying anything… just…don’t hurt me…”

“You have to define ‘hurt’, honey.”

“Don’t like punch me or anything.”

Your answer gave Steve pause as his gaze shifted between you and your boyfriend. 

“Y/N, that never crossed my mind. I would never hurt you like that. I know some people are into that but I know Eddie and he knows me. We don’t want to see you hurt or cry like that. No one’s ever hurt you like that right? Because I’ll fucking kick their ass.”

“No, Sir.”, you giggle at his slightly teasing yet protective tone. “No one’s ever hurt me like that. I just…like I said, I’m new to all this. Eddie teaches me things and he’s always so patient.” The man besides you beams with pride as he kisses your temple. “What about you? Is there anything I should know?”

Steve blinks as his little smirk flickers along his lips. 

“Would you be surprised no one has ever asked me that?”

“Why? I mean I want you to enjoy yourself to and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he groans as his cheek falls against your bare thigh and his hands hug your leg. “You have to take me to this coffee shop you found her at, Ed, because she is perfect.”

On impulse, your fingers reach out to pet his head and he moans lightly at the action as he tilts a bit to kiss your skin. 

“No, honey. Just be honest and vocal with me. Sometimes I get…passionate…so if I’m doing something you like or don’t like just tell me.”

“Yes, Sir. What about you, Daddy?”

“I’m just watching tonight, sweetheart.”

“Yeah but is there…is there something you don’t want me to with him? Like…can I kiss him?”

“Yeah, baby girl, you can kiss him. You can do anything you want as long as you feel safe and I will be right here if you need me.”

“Ok, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you take off your dress, babe, and show Steve what he gets to play with?”

Nodding, you rose to your feet and wiggled your frame as you slid the tight-fitting fabric down your body bringing your panties down with it.

“No bra?”, Steve asked as you sat back down and he took a seat beside you.

“I didn’t think it went with the dress.”

“We were at the mall for hours looking for the ‘perfect’ dress. She wanted to look nice for you.”, Eddie jested making you blush.

“Aw, honey. Well, it was absolutely gorgeous.”, his friend cooed as he placed his arm over his own behind your head and rested his other palm on your stomach. “I think I like this outfit the best.”, he whispers causing a shutter to ripple through you.

Leaning your lips toward Steve’s, your pussy clenched as they mingled together while you mewled at his taste. They both had a lingering note of nicotine but this man was oddly softer with his technique than Eddie; so much so that you constantly chased his mouth for more friction. 

As you turned to kiss your boyfriend, his lips were desperately waiting as he cupped your head in his head and held you still. Steve’s tongue grazed your throat as he placed open mouth kisses along your skin causing you to pant as you struggled to stay connect to the man you loved. 

“How does it feel? Tell Daddy, baby.”

“G-Good. Want more.”

“Tell him. Tell Mr. Harrington what you want, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as Steve’s mouth and tongue found purchase on your tit as he sucked and licked your nipple. 

“Please—mmm—Mr. Harrington. I want to feel you t-touch me.”

Without saying a word, he tore off his shirt and pushed down his pants to his ankles. 

“Fuck, come here, honey.” Laying on your side, you place your head towards his stomach and Steve groans when a glob of spit falls from your mouth on to his tip. “There you go, Y/N. Shit.”

As your hand begins to pump him, you listen as he sucks on his fingers before rubbing them against your clit. 

“Oh…Oh my god, Steve.”

No sooner had his name left your mouth was your hair being yanked back as his angry eyes found yours. 

“When we are together, little girl, you will show me respect. Do I make myself clear?”

“Ah…yes, Sir.”

“Who am I right now?”

“Mr. Harrington.”

His cock twitched in your hand as he gripped you tighter.

He was enjoying the control. 

“Louder, Y/N.”

“Mr. Harrington! You’re Mr. Harrington, Sir!”

As soon as he let you go, you desperately wanted to make up for your indiscretion, immediately wrapping your lips around his length and bobbing your head. 

“Atta girl. Fuck-- don’t overwhelm yourself. I-I know I’m a lot.”

The sound of a belt unbuckling echoed through the living room and you know Eddie was making himself more comfortable especially when Steve’s fingers breached your entrance as he curled them inside you. 

“Jesus, look how fucking hard you are. You like watching your girlfriend take my cock down her throat?” Utilizing one of your hands, you massaged the businessman’s balls eliciting a loud grunt that had you clenching around his fingers. “You were right, Ed. She’s—mmph—she’s good at sucking dick. Damn, and she’s so fucking tight. You’re right, baby. I’m going to stretch you in half.”

Your moan mixes with Eddie’s at the notion. 

“Fuck me. I can’t—” Abruptly Steve removed his fingers and manhandled you till your head was on your boyfriend’s lap on your back. After removing the rest of his clothes, he opened your legs wide and spit directly into your cunt before falling on top of you. “I’m gonna try and go slow at first but I just really want to fucking pound into you so like I said…If I’m hurting you—”

“I’ll tell you. Please, Mr. Harrington, I need you.”, you whine as you grind your hips along his hard cock. 

His arms boxed you in as his head fell beside your own and he began guiding himself into you. Your hands promptly grabbed his shoulders as you bit your bottom lip. 

“There y-you go, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”, Eddie cooed softly above you as you felt the slight wind of his hand stroking his length. 

The whole scene was driving you wild and you couldn’t help but squeeze tighter around the man inside you making him grunt as you whined in slight pain. 

“A-Are you o-o-okay, Sir?”

Steve’s fingers threaded in your hair as he lifts his head to look down at your face. As he thrusts in another inch, a heavy breath leaves your lips hitting his own as his features scrunch in what looks like pain. 

“Talk to me.”, you whimper. “I need you to be v-vocal to.”

Leaning his forehead against yours, his tenderly gives you a kiss. 

“I’m not even…even all the way in…I feel like…mmm…I’m gonna cum. Am I h-h-hurting you?”

“A little but…feels…good…” This time you kiss him as your nails drag down his back till your palms grip his ass. “It’s ok, Steve.”, you whisper. “Keep going. I want to feel all of you. I don’t care if I can’t walk tomorrow as long as I can feel you.”

Subtly guiding him with your hands, he delivered you small thrusts as his beautiful eyes remained locked on yours. 

“Uhhh, fuck. Feels so good, Mr. Harrington.” When he was fully seated inside of you, you both froze as you relished the feeling of each other. “Please, Sir. I need you to move.”

A large palm circled around your throat and lightly squeezed as Steve pushed up on his elbow to glare down at you. 

“You need me to move, little girl? Then don’t fucking pout. You take what I fucking give you.”

Eddie’s movements still as he watched the scene before him. The few times the two of them had played this was how Steve was. Where Eddie was a bit softer, Steve was much more rugid and rough around the edges. Daddy wanted to teach whereas Mr. Harrington wanted someone to obey. When they were intimate, they bounced off each other quiet well. When Steve needed someone to just love him and care for him Daddy was there. When Eddie was tired of being in control all day, Mr. Harrington took over. 

They never dug too deep into it or what that aspect of their relationship meant. They just knew they were best friends and that’s all that mattered. 

With him, you were always very shy about a lot of sexual things. You were no prude but like you said, you had only experienced the vanilla lifestyle. Eddie loved your innocence and it catered to his Daddy nature. But neither of you had ever gotten this far. 

He’d never tried being rough with you in this way nor had he ever had to “punish” you. Unlike the women he dated previously, you were far from a brat. Occasionally yes he did scold you but all in all nothing more. When he asked you about being intimate with Steve, he knew the man leaned more towards that spectrum which is why he insisted on you utilizing the safe word should you need it. 

Eddie had also warned him that you were timid and to just go along with your flow. 

To him on the outside looking in, however, it seemed like Steve jumped to a 10 without warning. 

“Sweetheart, what color are we at?”

Instead of answering you tried push against his friend’s grasp to kiss his lips again but he just pushed you down as he smirked at your insistence. Eddie couldn’t believe what he was seeing and his cock twitched slightly at the sight.

You were disobeying. 

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Green, Daddy.”

“She’s fine, Munson. Look at her. Desperate little thing just wants to cum.” Suddenly wrapping his arms around you, Steve sits up without pulling out so you’re straddling him. “Well, go ahead, honey. Take what you want.”

Balancing your hands against his shoulders, you bounced your hips slowly at first as you fully got used to his size. The burn had long since passed and pleasure was fully in the driver’s seat as his cock hit and surpassed all your buttons till you were a desperate mess. 

“Fuck, Eddie, do you hear that? She’s so f-fucking wet. Come on, baby. Harder!”, he scolded as he spanked your behind. A string of ahs escaped you as you did what he commanded, your eyes rolling as your head fell back. “Atta girl. Taking my dick so well. No one-mmph—no one’s ever taken all of me before. Not even him.”

Glancing towards your boyfriend, you moaned as his hand stroked his cock at a blistering pace as he grunted at the feeling, his eyes focused on your tits and body as they moved. 

“M-Mr. Harrington feels so good, Daddy. Can I have his cum? Please! I wanna feel him cum inside me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Y-Yeah, baby girl. If you squeeze his cock real tight when you cum I’m sure he could return the favor.”

Your lips crashed to Steve’s as your tongues danced together and his arms held you in place.

“Just like that, Sir. Please…I’m gonna…”

The pants that left his mouth warmed your cheek as he clung to you, planting his feet into the carpet as he thrust up into you roughly. The sound of skin slapping skin hit your ears and after a few more pumps your body trembled as you came. 

“FUCK! God fucking damn it!”, Steve shouted as his hands held you tighter to him. “You pussy is choking my dick. Fuck I’m gonna cum.”

Hastily, he tossed you to the side on your stomach and lifted your ass in the air as he shifted around behind you. Sliding his cock back inside of you, Steve set an animalistic pace as he chased his high. Leaning over your back, his palm pinned you into the sofa cushion squishing your face as he rolled his waist till you felt his release coat your insides. 

Eddie grunted above you till you listened to his voice shake as his seed shot out and hit his thigh. 

“Oh oh oh. I know, Y/N. I’m sorry.”, Steve soothes in a soft tone when you cry out as he tries to carefully pull out of you. After throwing himself down behind you, he tugs on your hips bringing you on to his lap. Just as you had with his friend, you wrapped your arm around his neck and rested your head against his chest as your eyes closed. 

“What should I do?”, he whispers to Eddie who breathily chuckles. 

“Play with her hair and rub her back or something. Tell her she’s safe.”

“Should we at least get her clean?”

“Yeah sure. Go ahead and try that.” As Steve tries to readjust you so he can stand and bring you to his bathroom, your arm holds him closer as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. “I told you, man. I’m not sure if it’s the headspace or just her but either way I love it. Makes me feel wanted…needed…”

“Hey.”, the businessman calls out as his arm reaches out to lightly hit his friend’s shoulder. “I need you, Ed. You’ve been a really good friend to me. As you can tell a lot of people like the idea of me and what that brings.”, Steve sighs as he gestures around the house. “You’ve never been like that. How, um, how was this? Did you like it?”

“I did. There was a moment there though… she doesn’t talk like that with me or misbehave at all really. It was fascinating to watch.” The other man nods at his assessment, shifting his gaze towards you as his hand plays with your hair. “What about you? Did you like being with her?”

Steve chuckles as he continues to stare forward. 

“Yeah, I did. I’m a little worried because I wasn’t joking when I said no one has ever taken all of me before. She may be really sore in the morning but yeah. I also liked you watching; turned me on a bit more. You should join in next time. I mean if she wants there to be a next time. There doesn’t have to be. I like her personality to. She’s adorable and she seems to genuinely care about you.”

Sensing something in his friend’s tone, Eddie pulled up his pants as he shuffled closer to his side and without hesitating, Steve leaned onto his shoulder. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah…just been a rough few weeks. It’s oddly calming having her hold me like this. Never had a woman in my bed long enough to cuddle with after. Either they get sick of me or I get sick of them.”

“Sounds about right.” 

Steve’s head tilts back to watch his friend laugh with glassy eyes before pressing his lips to the other man’s throat and peppering him with tiny, soft kisses.

“Didn’t you just cum, needy boy?”, Eddie lightly teases.

“Mhmm but I could go again if you’re playing to.”

“Oh my God, Steve, you slut.” The sound of their breath filled laughter woke you from your sleepy state. “Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

“I’m ok, Daddy. Cold but ok.”

“How about we get you into a bath and then you and Eddie can crash in one of my guest rooms?”

“Oh. Alright.”, you reply sullenly causing Steve to grip your chin so his eyes could find your own. “I just thought you’d lay with us but I understand if you don’t want to.”

“Hey, I’d love to lay with you both. I just didn’t want to overcrowd you if you wanted some space after everything.”

After placing your lips on his, you grab Eddie’s collar to do the same. 

“I don’t want space. I want to feel you both hold me.”

Both men exchange a glance before getting to their feet and carrying you down the hall. 

“We can do that, baby girl.”

#############

@aol19 @livsters @dashingdeb16 @too-efn-old-to-be-here

@yesimabratandwhataboutot @eddiesguitarskills

@scarlet-witch23 @soph342 @micheledawn1975 @thatgurljen @fluffansmut

@chelebelletx @peaches-roses-sins @areiofhope @hugdealer @nerdygamingartist@bootywizzard @bexreadstoomuch @calumfmu @nailbatanddungeon 

If I missed anyone in the tags please let me know!

[girlkisser13]

dating klaus hargreeves would include

• klaus loves to take you on spontaneous and unconventional dates. from late-night walks through empty streets to exploring abandoned buildings, each outing would feel like a mini-adventure.

• he isn’t one for structured romance, so expect lots of random hugs, kisses, and cuddles. he’d always find a way to touch you, whether it's holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder, or intertwining your fingers with his.

• you’d need to have a good sense of humor and be comfortable with dark, often morbid jokes. klaus would use humor as a way to cope with his past traumas, and he’d appreciate someone who could laugh with him, even at the bleakest of times.

• over time, he would open up to you about his ability to see the dead, his struggles with addiction, and his fears. your relationship would deepen as he slowly lets you into the parts of his life that he usually keeps hidden.

• despite his carefree nature, klaus would be surprisingly protective of you. he’d be the first to stand up for you in a confrontation and wouldn’t hesitate to use his powers if it meant keeping you safe.

• being with klaus would inspire you to be more creative and think outside the box. his unconventional approach to life would challenge you to see things differently, and you’d often find yourself getting involved in his artsy and eccentric projects.

• klaus is full of surprises, and he’d love to keep you guessing. from surprising you with your favorite takeout when you’re having a bad day to bringing home a stray animal because he felt sorry for it, life with klaus would never be boring.

• he has a unique way of showing love. It might be through acts like letting you wear his favorite band t-shirt, insisting you join him on a spiritual retreat, or simply holding you close after a nightmare.

• klaus is known for his mood swings, often shifting from joy to sorrow in the blink of an eye. dating him would mean riding this emotional roller coaster with him. you’d become skilled at reading his moods and knowing when he needs comfort or space.

• your home is a reflection of klaus’s eclectic personality. it is filled with mismatched furniture, various thrift store finds, and an array of colorful decor. klaus’s style would make your space feel more like an artistic expression than a conventional living area.

• klaus has a love for music, and your relationship would be filled with impromptu dance parties. he’d put on his favorite records and pull you into the middle of the room, dancing with abandon. these moments would be some of the happiest, where you both let go of everything and just enjoy each other’s company.

• you're the first person who has made him feel important and valued. you listened to him, allowed him to be himself, and never judged him.

• klaus is dramatic by nature, and your life together would be filled with theatrical gestures. he’d quote poetry at random moments, declare his love in over-the-top ways, and make even mundane tasks feel like scenes from a play.

• you’d develop a collection of inside jokes that no one else understands, creating a bond that feels private and unique. klaus would also love giving you nicknames, often humorous or slightly outlandish, to make you smile.

• he 100% calls you pookie.

• klaus has had struggles with addiction, so if he’s working on staying sober, your support would mean the world to him. you’d encourage him through difficult times and celebrate his victories, no matter how small. your patience and understanding would be key to helping him stay on track.

• you're his anchor; the one who grounds him when the chaos of his life becomes overwhelming. <33

[perfctvelvet]

A smut involving Jenna or fem reader as a stripper or only fans star?

Down; Jenna Ortega/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. AU. Stripper!reader, teasing, Jenna gets reader off.

A/N: I had two requests for stripper!reader with jenna so I just combined them :) I think I've only wrote a strip/lapdance scene once and that was years ago so forgive me if this is little awkward!

Muse was nothing short of a poor excuse for a "high-end" private club. The floor was sticky from spilled overpriced drinks and the air was thick and muggy. Behind the branding and high-earning clientele, it was simply a strip club.

The year end company dinner started at Jenna's boss's favorite restaurant, to a bar across the street, and eventually to Muse. One by one her co-workers fell off, citing their tiredness as the reason they need to leave. In reality the crop of people that wanted to be out all night weren't the most ideal people to party with. Jenna said she would leave when her closest co-worker, Eve, decided to leave. However when it was her turn to bow out for the night, Jenna looked amongst the people she would be left with. It was nearly all of the senior-level employees of her department. Why she thought she could be one of the boys for the night, just for a small chance of career advancement, was beyond her. But she stayed. She stayed until she was front and center of a woman in sparkling lingerie that exposed her breast.

"We were surprised a girl like you could hang," one of the more obnoxious colleague nudges her side and winks at her.

Maybe this was some sort of joke on their behalf. The photo of her with her ex-girlfriend had sat on her desk for months until things came crashing down. Jenna wasn't ashamed, but her rule was to never talk about her personal life at work. That photo was the most she's ever said about the inner workings of her life and it was clear people had picked up on it.

Perverts.

Jenna is sure her colleague's wedding bands are shining under the stage lights, but no one seemed to care. It was par for the course; some wealthy, married men found their enjoyment in going to a club and seeing what they don't have.

Jenna found the women on stage to be pretty, beautiful even, but she felt out of place. She felt like everyone's eyes were on her like she had "newbie" written on her forehead. If she was with friends it would be different, possibly, but she was with men she has to turn reports into on Monday morning.

The same obnoxious guy in her office leans over and yells over the music, "you want a lap dance?"

The look on her face must've been a stupid one because he laughs at her.

"Not from me, of course. From one of the girls!"

"No, no. No thank you!"

It was then and there Jenna didn't realize what she got herself into. The men she work with don't like to hear the word "no." And when he got the others in on it, she soon found herself in a private room waiting for a "special visitor." She could've easily made a great escape the moment she entered the room, but was scared she would come face-to-face with the woman who was suppose to entertain her for the night. It made her feel guilty. Besides it might be best for her to occupy this person's time instead of one of her co-workers.

The lights dim in the room and the silhouette of a woman appears behind a curtain. Her outline giveaway that she's braless too, her nipples erect. Soft music played while the woman swayed her hips. She certainly knew what she was doing, moving her body to each sultry beat. Jenna can't deny that it is sexy to watch even if she wasn't use to this setting. Her ex had modeled lingerie for her and even gave her a drunken lap dance before, but this felt much more intense even with the curtain in the way.

She wondered what goes through the woman's head while she's doing this. Is she being a good audience member? She should clap every time the woman pauses? Can she even see her?

Her heart skips when the curtains began to draw back and you're revealed to be the woman behind them. You've seen plenty of women in the clubs (and nervous people in general), but you instantly took a liking to Jenna. She looked all cute just sitting there, clearly feeling our of place. Must've been a dare.

Jenna watches you closely as you begin to move to the music again, but she doesn't dare make eye contact with you. She's sitting so stiffly in her chair, you almost wanted to come down and shake her loose. There was nothing to be nervous about but the first timers were always a bit endearing to you.

You walk down the steps and stop right in front of her, giving her no choice but to look at you in the eyes. Her eyes are so gorgeous and she has a sweet face. It becomes more obvious to you that someone else definitely put her up to this.

"Relax," you whisper, voice lacing with the music.

Her ears perk up at the sound of your voice, as silky as the lingerie on your skin. It could be the loneliness from the break-up and missing a warm body against hers, but Jenna felt a tinge of desire for you.

She's like this with everyone. This is just her job.

Jenna listens to you and sinks into her seat. As she leans back, you lean in, turning around and sitting on her lap. Your hips swirl against her and you feel her clench her legs together. The purpose was to turn the client on, but you were enjoying this a little too much for your own professional lines. You turned your head over your shoulder to watch Jenna's face and she quickly adverted her eyes once again. You almost laughed at her reaction, but didn't want to make her nervous again.

However it was almost impossible not to make Jenna with the way you moved against her body. You leaned back and she she moved with you in the process. Your head rests on her shoulder and your arm comes around to wrap around her head. It takes everything in her not to run her hand up your body and grope your tits. The cool air made them so stiff that they begged for attention. There was a wetness that was growing between your legs that you tried to ignore, but some people turned you on so much that it drove you crazy. Jenna could feel your passion radiating off of you. You closed your eyes and let out a groan as if you were turning yourself on. It was in Jenna's instincts to do something to help you, but she remembered the setting. It was polite to keep her hands to herself, but you didn't want that. You grabbed one of her hands and placed it on your chest. Finally she seemed to give in a little and groped your flesh causing you to let out a heavy sigh.

"Baby," you moaned as if you too were intimately familiar with each other. It let Jenna play into the fantasy a little more.

She touched you like she would touch her ex-girlfriend. If she closed her eyes she could imagine that it was her. Guilt swam in her belly along with desire. All of her thoughts were in her head, so it wasn't like you had to know, but she would feel wrong for doing a pretty girl like you injustice by imagining she's thought someone else.

Jenna opens her eyes back to reality. Your exposed neck is right within reach of her lips and she takes the opporunity to just kiss your skin one time. She pauses for your reaction and feels warmth spread through her body when you moan in approval. She kisses your skin again and again until she feels comfortable enough parting her lips to suck on your skin. Now you're the one clench your legs together in search for some kind of relief.

This all escalated quickly and you know the timer is going to be up soon. The room was only booked for 30 minutes. You didn’t want things to end so soon, but just like Jenna you also had your rules about work. you felt the urge to take things farther and it was getting harder to ignore.

“Touch me here,” you say desperately.

Once again, you grab her hand and move it on your body. This time it lands in between your thighs. You spread your legs wide to give her a hint and she bravely takes it. She rubs your clit through your panties. The wetness of your arousal seeps through the material and Jenna can feel it.

“Just like that,” you sigh with pleasure.

Jenna is too stunned to speak. She didn’t expect that her night would end with her making a stripper cum. She wishes she could feel your bare, wet flesh against her skin but she wasn’t going to push her luck. She let you take control of the situation. She was like most clients who were eager to please but you liked how she touched you more so than others. She wasn’t too rough with you but used the right amount of pressure to make you pop. She sucked on your neck and rubbed you like you were precious cargo. It was possible that you were fulfilling a fantasy for her which was your job.

"Oh baby I'm gonna cum!"

The way you drag out the syllables and how it's followed by a moan makes Jenna heart beat out of her chest. She wonders if you can feel it while pressed so close against her. She can surely feel your clit pulsing under her touch. She rubs you through your orgasm as your entire body shakes. It's been so long, probably months, since someone has made you cum so hard and it was at the hands of someone who obviously has never stepped into a strip club before. It was easy to suss those ones out, and Jenna had something in her eyes that screamed naïve and you were sucked into what brought her here. She was probably put up to this, but to be bold enough to touch a stripper let alone make her cum, she was something else.

Once your movements stilled and you got off of her, Jenna looked everywhere besides into your eyes. "Uh...thank you." She scurried out of the room before you could say anything and before the allotted time for the room was up. It's unlikely she'll ever come back this place again, but this city isn't as big as many would think, and you hope that you'll be able to say 'what a small world' very soon.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of the Heart (Chapter 16) Human!Alastor x Married!Reader

Chapter Trigger Warnings: infidelity

Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Alastor led you by your hand confidently through a sea of boxes and dim lights, the music growing louder as you went. Your eyes were trained on him, watching the halo of light reflect off his hair as he passed underneath light after light. If you had spared a moment to look around, you wouldn’t have seen much in the deep shadows. 

Voices and chatter joined the warm horns and strings, growing louder with each step you took. Alastor was eagerly pulling you along toward the sounds brought life to the space deeper in the building. At last, your eager partner stopped in front of a door. Just beyond it was a sea of noise. 

Your heart pounded at the prospect of people, all local to you, and out for a night on the town hidden in a watering hole. Each and every one of those people could very well could know you. 

They could know your husband. They could tell. 

Alastor had asked that you trust him. 

It took everything in you to fight against every part of your body that wanted you to cringe away in fear as he reached out for the door. Long fingers wrapped around the knob as his hand around yours gave a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s alright,” He spoke softly, as if trying not to scare a frightened prey animal.

A heartbeat passed and then the knob was turning with an ever so slight squeak. The door opened easily and Alastor pulled you through. 

You stood at his side, faced with a room that was nothing like what you had expected. The noise was louder now, and it sounded like you should be standing on the outskirts of the party. Instead, you were in a room. No, that wasn’t exactly right, you realized as you looked around. 

Boxes towered along the wall, in places stacked many high. The floor wasn’t nearly as well kept as you expected. Wax and polish extended only a few short feet into this small room, giving way to much more rustic and worn floors. Off to the side, a small table sat with a candle and glasses, waiting for the guests of the evening. 

With a start, you realized it was like a cubby off the main lounge that was hidden away by a curtain. Private and yet as close to a part of the party as you could ever hope to be while with Alastor.

The band’s music was clear, passing through the curtain with ease, along with the buzz of people, but you couldn’t see anyone. They couldn’t see you. Light filtered in from above and below the curtain, supplementing the naked overhead light, casting shadows about the room along with the warm light.

Alastor pulled you deeper into the room, closer to the table that recaptured your attention. A simple white table cloth was spread over the surface and atop it sat a vase with a red candle inside, flame flickering ever so softly. Glasses sat on the table with a tray of fruits, cheeses, spreads, crackers, and small bits of bread on it. 

There was a short woman who looked familiar next to the table, adding slices of smoked meat to the tray. Upon registering her and her sparkling dress, you darted your eyes to Alastor. You wanted to step closer to him, to seek shelter in him from this stranger but that would only make it look more like what you feared was going on. Instead, you stepped behind him, hoping to at least not be recognized. 

“About time you two get here,” the woman said, turning and putting her hands on her hips. 

Alastor knew the woman, you realized as his arm wrapped around your waist, far more familiar of a touch than what one would expect from a simple friend. His arm prevented any real attempts to hide, leaving you with little choice but to look to him for guidance. 

Alastor rolled his eyes at the woman, but the fondness in his face as he looked at her told you his show was more show than fact. He introduced you to the woman standing at the table, not bothering to drop his hand from your waist while he did so. “And this is my dear friend, Mimzy, the proprietress of this lovely establishment.” 

“Lovely to meet you,” you said as the woman looked between you and Alastor, her blonde eyebrow quirked high. Her face moved through emotions quickly, as if she was trying to piece together a puzzle in her head. 

“Mimzy was kind enough to loan us use of a private room so we could get out on the town without worrying about pesky eyes and their flapping tongues.” Alastor offered, hand finally dropping from your waist and giving you a short-lived moment to breathe before he took your hand in his again. 

“Well,” Mimzy said, clearing her throat. “I’ll leave you two to it.” Mimzy looked hard at where your hand joined his, raised her eyebrow somehow higher still. She said nothing about what she was seeing. Instead, she simply turned, shaking her head before giving Alastor one last look over her shoulder. “You owe me, Al- I got other shit to do then setting up your little night out.” 

“If I remember correctly,” Alastor’s smile was wide, eyes seeming to sparkle as you stood, taking in the sight of Alastor with a friend. She was a female friend, a rarity for men to have. It was surreal seeing how he was with friends, a side of him you had never seen, being that you and he had built this friendship- yes, it was just friendship, you told yourself, in secret. “I cleared out the room while you sat on the counter painting your nails.” 

It hurt. You didn’t know why it hurt, but it did. There was no reason for you to believe he was alone with her, but your heart hurt like there was. Was what you and Alastor were doing really nothing special? 

Perhaps he held Mimzy’s hand in his the same way he was holding yours? Was it all in your head? Maybe it was all alright? Maybe this was just how Alastor was, crossing social boundaries without a care for the wreckage he could leave in his path?

Was this what jealousy felt like? 

“Now missy,” Mimzy spared you a look from where she stood, hand on the curtain. “If this ol boy gives you any trouble, you come to Mimzy and I’ll straighten him right out. I don’t give a hoot what your situation is, that man right there better treat you right.” 

Perhaps what you had with Alastor was different?

She didn’t give you a chance to say anything, not that you knew what you’d say to her, before she stepped into the busy lounge with a flutter of the curtain. 

“My apologizes for her,” Alastor said, tugging you toward the table. “She’s always had a flair for dramatics.” 

“Oh, so women are dramatic now?” You teased, trying to get your bearings as Alastor stood behind a chair. He scooted it out and motioned for you to sit. 

“Oh, not women-” Alastor laughed as you settled into the seat. He continued speaking as he scooted you up to the table. “Just that one.” 

Only once he had you settled at the table did he take his own seat. Candle light danced over his face, warming his smile even more. It felt right, sitting here with him as he poured glasses of wine. Though you tried to relax, you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the curtain, looking for some rip that would reveal you to those on the other side. 

“You can relax,” Alastor’s soft smile captured your attention. “There are no tables near the curtain and the dancefloor isn’t near it either. The most someone ever does is brush it with their shoulder.” 

“Okay,” you tried to force yourself to do as he said. It wasn’t easy but as Alastor kept your attention on him, drawing you into a conversation about his work, your days and each of your childhood, you found you relaxed. 

Time passed easily, floating away on a sea of warm conversation and wine shared between the two of you, the first glass being replaced with a second. You felt good, really good, for perhaps the first time in your life. Alastor was a kind soul, and you marveled as he held his hand out for you, asking you to dance. He had never been harsh with you, never raising his voice or his hand to you. 

“Shall we dance?” Alastor asked, raising from his chair and holding his hand out to you as he reached your side. 

“I’m not terribly good,” you tried to wave off the idea. It wasn’t appropriate to dance with a man that wasn’t your husband when your husband wasn’t even present to supervise it. Did that matter, though? As you thought about it for a moment, you decided it didn’t. You were already crossing so many of society’s boundaries in your time with Alastor.

“I’m sure you’re more than adequate,” Alastor challenged as you surrendered your hand to his. A soft tug had you rising from your chair and stepping into the open space. There were marks all along the floor from where crates had sat for long periods of time. Your heart warmed, remembering how Alastor had moved things about the space, making it safe for your time with him. 

You tripped over your feet as Alastor pulled you around the floor, quick steps and eager encouragement driving away any shame that attempted to set up camp in your mind. The wine had you smiling, laughing lightly as you all but fell into Alastor’s arms as your legs tangled together. He caught you easily, finding his own joy in your clumsy steps and glee. 

Though he said he was only alright himself, it took only a few short minutes for you to realize he was far better than just alright. He skillfully moved you through space, leading you through dances you could only somewhat perform and compensating for your lack of grace or elegance with his own moves. 

Every time he placed his hands on you, he was mindful of your still aching ribs. You’d be sore later. Healing injuries would surely be aggravated but the joy of dancing with him was worth every flair of discomfort and twinge of pain in the moment. 

After a few glasses of wine, you struggled to care at all as you tripped over your own feet, laughter spilling freely from your lips as he held you upright, spinning you around and lifting you into the air. Your heart pounded in your chest from all the activity, but you were having the time of your life. Your healing ribs were little more than an annoyance, dulled by the wine shared between you.

“Another glass, darling?” Alastor asked as the music lulled between songs. 

“Please?” You answered before thinking twice, “If that’s alright, I mean.” 

“I’d not offer if it wasn’t,” Alastor said, as he split the last of the wine between the two glasses. 

“Hey, Baby!” a voice you knew shouted over the music, causing your glass to begin to slip from your fingers. Reality and pain came crashing down around you. The shock of hearing his voice in your safe little bubble felt like a blow directly to your still healing ribs. The illusion of warmth and reckless love shattered into a million little shards, leaving you once again standing in a dusty side room of a speakeasy. 

“Laurence?” You whisper as Alastor took the glass from your trembling hands before you had a chance to drop it. The sound of shattering glass and running wine surely could give away their hiding place, though he was certain it wouldn’t be noticed over the sound of the band. 

“Laurence, Doll!” Mimzy’s voice was high, carrying through the space. “I wasn’t expectin ya tonight.” 

Alastor’s hands came to rest on your arms as you looked wide eyed at the curtain, breath locked in your chest. 

“I finished early, thought I’d bring you this weekend’s rum a bit early since I was going to be stopping by, anyway.” Laurence’s voice got closer the more he talked. You needed to run, you needed to get out of here, but your feet felt cemented in place. 

“He said he’d be out of town until tomorrow,” you whisper, tears gathering in your eyes as you rip your eyes from the curtain to Alastor. He ran his hands up and down your arms, trying to keep your attention on him as your eyes flickered from him to the curtain and back. “We need to leave. I need to leave-” 

“Breathe.” Alastor whispered, trying to keep your attention on him. It wouldn’t do for you to run off, cause a scene. 

“Want the crates in the side room like usual?” Laurence was right on the other side of the curtain now. You could see his feet, just beyond the fall of the cloth. 

“There’s a cubby just under those boards,” Mimzy’s voice was close now too. You could see her feet near Laurence’s. 

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You whispered, stepping away from him as best you could as he maintained contact with you. 

“Shh,” Alastor ran his hands up your arms and cupped your cheek in both his as he stepped forward, closing the growing distance between the two of you, “I’ve got you. Mimzy’s got you. Trust us.” 

You nod, but he waits. 

“Okay,” you whisper finally, nodding again. 

Alastor leads you deeper into the room, blowing out the candle as he passes by. Each step was slow, careful and slightly shuffled to avoid his shoes clicking against the wooden floor. You mimicked him, walking on your toes to keep the heels of your shoes from clicking with your steps.

“Step up,” he held your hands in his as you climbed up on the stack of boxes, keeping you steady.

“Larry!” A woman’s shoes joined the pairs in front of the curtain. “All work and no play will make you a dull boy indeed.” 

Who was that? You glanced at the curtain, trying to look through the fabric that kept you out of sight but also prevented you from being able to see what happened beyond it. 

“Don’t worry, Love,” Laurence said as you watched his hands dipping in and out of view as he put bottles in under floorboards. If he leaned any more into the hole, would he be able to see you? “Just gotta unload this, and then I’m all yours all night long.” 

Wide eyes watched what little you could see under the curtain as you stood, hands clasped against your mouth to ensure your breathing was quiet enough, as if there was a risk of Laurence hearing it. 

The world felt like it spun around you. Until Alastor’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, you hadn’t realized you were swaying on your feet. It was his secure hold on you that kept you safe from the risk of falling to the ground. 

“You’re okay,” He whispered into the side of your head as he pulled you closer to his side. “I’ve got you.” 

“What’s going on?” You turned into him, seeking comfort from the only friend you had. You knew better, but with the fear and the wine, your body acted regardless of that fact. You let him hold you as you looked up at his eyes, realizing only then that he had at some point flipped the switch off, sending the little enclave into darkness lit only by the light filtering in from around the curtain. 

“Do you really want to know?” Alastor asked softly as Mimzy bantered with Laurence and the woman outside the curtain. You nodded, hands balling against his chest as you held onto his vest for some sort of stability. If it was physical or mental stability, you were seeking from him, you didn’t know. 

“Laurence runs hootch for Mimzy’s supplier. He got busted a few weeks ago and lost a load. That’s why he needed the loan- he had to cover the losses for his boss.” 

“Are you involved in it, too?” You whispered, looking up at him from the shelter you had taken in his arms. 

“Not typically.” Alastor shrugged. “I brew some, mostly as a hobby. I avoid running hootch unless Mimzy needs a favor. If I got caught, I’d get a lot more than a fine.” 

“Larry, Baby, ain’t you going to pay attention to me?” The woman’s voice was high and pouty. You should have felt some sort of way about some other woman calling your husband “Larry” and “baby” but more than anything you were confused. 

He hated to be called Larry. He hated pet names altogether. He was supposed to be out of town. 

“Don’t worry baby,” Laurence stood after replacing the boards, “I don’t gotta be home till tomorrow night.” 

“Oh, yeah?” The woman giggled.

“I’ll give you so much attention you’ll be screaming my name.” Laurence’s feet moved closer to the woman’s. Was he holding her, brazenly, out in the public as if he wasn’t a married man? “All. Night. Long.” 

You were a fool. He was making you his fool. You had done your wifely duties. He had use of your body. You made him meals, washed his clothes. You loved him, or at least, you thought you did. What did he give you in return? Not even loyalty to the vow you had made together before God and your families?

“I’m sorry,” Alastor whispered, watching the emotions play across your face. You did not love your husband, he knew that, but that did nothing to prevent the knife of betrayal from sinking into your heart. “It appears your husband is having an affair.” 

“It’s not fair,” you whispered as Laurence’s feet danced with the woman’s feet outside the curtain, steps taking their bodies closer than you had allowed Alastor to pull you until this moment. 

“What isn’t?” Alastor asked, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other up between your shoulders. He held you close, but not against him. Even now, he kept a few inches of space between your bodies. 

“That he can just have an affair out in the open and what? Nothing happens to him? If anyone notices, they’ll blame me for it. But…” 

“But?” Alastor’s heart beat faster in his chest. Why? He wasn’t sure. The rush he had only experienced when closing in on a hurt coursed through his veins as he looked down at you, studying every move you made. 

That must have been it. This game he was playing with you was just another hunt, was it not? He was closing in on his prey. That was it. That had to be it. 

Your hands moved against his chest as you slipped your ring free from your finger, wrapping the simple jeweled band in your hand. “If I’m found to be having an affair, no matter how discrete I keep it, I’m demonized just the same.”

“We live in a world of double standards,” Alastor murmured. “It’s a good thing you’re not having an affair.” 

“What if I wanted to?” You ask, looking up at him again, “What if I wanted this thing we’re dancing around to be real?”

You lean into him, standing on your tiptoes as you brace yourself on his chest. Eyes not daring to leave his face, flickering between his warm eyes and the soft smile on his lips. 

Never had you felt like this. Was it the wine? No, even when Laurence had liquored you up, you never longed for the feeling of his lips against yours. You couldn’t remember a time where you longed for the feeling of someone’s lips against yours. 

Laurence had been your first kiss. He was your first everything, and that made your heart pound even harder in your chest as his too brash laugh sounded behind the curtains. You probably hadn’t been your husband’s first anything, other than wife. You clearly were not his last either. 

Laurence could have his affair, your wine addled mind decided. He could have his dangerous side business and his money troubles. That was fine as long as you got to feel Alastor’s arms wrapped around you and discover how it feels to kiss someone you wanted to kiss. 

“No,” Alastor whispered, finger coming to rest against your lips as you moved to close the distance. 

“I’m sorry.” You jerked back, stumbling. Alastor held safe, steading you with an arm around your waist. “I- I misread the-”

“You didn’t,” Alastor whispered. “I simply do not wish for you to do something you may come to regret under the influence of wine and a broken heart.”

“I won’t.” You promise, “I’ve been thinking about this a long time,” you lie. 

Alastor’s hand returns to your face, fingers curling under your chin as he rubs his thumb across your lower lip, a smile on his face. “You have so much more to lose in this than I do,” his voice was a soft whisper, hard to hear over the sound of the band and the woman outside the curtain fawning over your husband, “I’m not rejecting you. Mother simply raised me to not kiss a woman the first time when we both been hitting the sauce.”

“Alastor,” you whisper, lips moving against his thumb as tears fell from your eyes. “It’s not fair.” 

“What isn’t?” He asked as he let his hands trail down your arms as he stepped off the crate. Hands wrapped around your waist as he easily lifted you off the crate, settling your feet on the ground slowly, ensuring your heels didn’t click against the floor. Reaching up, his always soft touch wiped away the tears that seemed to run down your face in a constant stream. 

“He gets to have whatever he wants, but I finally want someone and I can’t,”

“No one is saying you can’t, my dear.” Alastor rested his forehead against yours for a moment, knowing his words were not true. Everyone was saying you couldn’t, but he would only say you couldn’t right now. It was better for him, he told himself, that your heart yearns for him a little longer. In the back of his head, he heard his mother’s voice telling him not to lie to her. How strange, considering he wasn’t. “Just that our first kiss will not be in this situation.” 

“Is it alright?” You ask, knowing the answer was ‘no’. Nothing would be alright again. You’d shown Alastor too much. You’d seen too much. There was no going back from what you knew tonight. 

“It will be,” Alastor said as he reached out, entwining his fingers in yours as he slowly pulled you toward the door leading deeper into the back room. “I promise you, it will be alright.” 

You wanted to believe him. 

Next?

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It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out. 

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over – 

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes. 

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I – 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy. 

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear. 

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago. 

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

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