#the guitar makes her look tiny lol

[funeralpyres]

look at her

[s-4pphics]

candy crush. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts

A/N: idk where this came from lol

Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 

Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 

“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 

“You know her?” 

“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 

“At who.” 

“At you, dipshit.” 

Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.

“Get her numbe—“

Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 

“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“

“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 

You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.

Crumbl. 2 shops down. 

Fuck. 

“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 

“Purchasing… I think.” 

“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 

Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.

Ellie sighs in relief. 

That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 

Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 

She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 

Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.

Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 

“What can I help you with?” 

She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 

It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 

“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“

“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 

Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 

“N-No. I just—“

“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“

“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“

“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”

The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 

“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 

Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 

Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 

All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 

It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 

It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 

Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 

It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 

What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 

And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 

“Good morning!” 

You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 

“How can I help you?” 

You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 

“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 

You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.

“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”

Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 

“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“

“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 

Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 

“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 

Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 

Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 

“Hey! You’re early!” 

Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“

“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?

She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 

“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 

“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“

“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 

“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.

“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 

“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 

When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 

“What the fuck did you do.” 

“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 

“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“

“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“

“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”

Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 

“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 

Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 

-

-

-

Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 

Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 

You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 

One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 

But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 

She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 

“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”

Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 

She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.

Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 

The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 

She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 

In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 

But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 

Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 

“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 

“What can I get for you?” 

Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 

“Um… A cookie?”

“… What flavor.” 

“Uh… peanut butter?” 

You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 

Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 

“W-What’s your favorite?” 

You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 

She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 

“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 

“I’ll get a dozen.” 

“O-Of the same flavor?” 

She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 

You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 

“No.” 

“Cash or card?” 

“Card, please.” 

More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 

A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“W— um, when’s your break?” 

Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 

“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 

And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 

You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 

“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 

“You can wait outside.” 

One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 

When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.

She sees why they’re your favorite. 

The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 

It makes her nauseous. And sad. 

But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 

Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 

But it has to be to you. 

Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 

“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“

You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 

“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“

“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 

“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 

It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 

“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 

The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 

“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 

Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 

The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”

Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 

She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 

You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 

Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”

A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 

“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 

When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” 

“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”

You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.

Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 

A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 

Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 

… How quickly can crushes develop? 

Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 

She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 

Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 

What a mistake. 

After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 

Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 

She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 

They didn’t. 

You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 

Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 

“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 

“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 

Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 

You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re talking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 

Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 

Ellie’s definitely crushing. 

Crushing very, very hard. 

[mqonlighting]

yeah i lied. missing her real bad rn so im touching on it in tags again! if u saw this heres an update if u didnt then do not read it!

will be burying this again after

real talk in the tags for a second because i have a crush on a girl and i. a hehe. ahehehe.

will be burying this in reblogs and never touching on it again

[blogfullofemos]

My Look Precedes Me

Based from this picture:

Synopsis: You're sitting on Eddie's bed with nothing but homework dispersed around you. And well... Baby has been in the corner... FOR FAR TOO LONG!!!

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: explicit words and a lot of angst. Italics is for flashbacks. I also believe that Eddie is very anxiety ridden, like moi. So yeah. Do what you will with that lol. Also has been proofread multiple times. (I wanna give you the best of the best okay 🥲)

Pairing: Eddie Munson + female reader

Lastly thank you so so so so so much for the shockingly amazing amount of feedback I received on my last 2 Eddie Munson blurbs. Thank you for the hearts, reblogs, and follows. Also I love the commentary cuz yes this man indeed drives me feral. But at times, he's just like me. 😭 Enjoy and let me know how you feel darling.

Eddie’s antsy. Eddie’s pissed. Better yet, if he has to deal with this any longer!! Eddie’s going to bring the upside down, downside up!! Or however the fuck they would reverse it. Sitting on a bean bag at the corner of his room, Eddie blatantly stares at you with furrowed brows. Wearing nothing but his favorite, black-ripped skinny jeans, his right leg bounces rapidly. His guitar resting still from the action as his hands fidgets all around it. Rolling his brown eyes, he presses his hand against his bottom lip to bite at the skin. Trying his best to distract himself from his fuming impatience. 

     For 2 and a half weeks, you’ve been…. Distant. And with no reason. The first week you started to make conversations between you two short, didn’t acknowledge when he wanted to make you the priority, and lastly you didn’t answer his phone calls. At all. You’re his girlfriend, right? Obsessively he checked if you still sported his guitar pick necklace. His heart finding some semblance of solace, as he watched your habit of twirling the pick between your fingers when talking to others, never stopped. 

“Hey… Uh-umm are we o-okay?” he asks shakily. With his hands in his pockets, he picks at the skin on his fingers. Clammy, heart burning, and thoughts racing for the worst; he kept his focus trained on the gravel crunch of his shoes. Never wanting you to see the fear anticipating to implode if his assumptions rang true. “You’re too in your head, Eds.” you giggle softly. Trying to break the unnerving silence, you scatter tiny rocks with a kick but nothing changes. You give it a few more steps. “Eddie?” you say, looking beside you with worry. Taken aback, you whip your head to look behind you. With a 4ft distance, Eddie stood still. His curls lightly drift with the wind as his head remains drooped. ‘Then why didn’t you notice I stopped? You must be in your head too.’ he thinks as a sniffle betrays him. In an instant, he hears you drop the scholarly books you held close to you and run towards him. “Eddie, baby..”, “Eds you’ve done nothing wrong..”, “Baby its me, not you okay.” you rush out. And with perfect deflection, you kissed him deeply.

      The 2nd week was pure Hell. You made it your mission to not cross paths anytime during class hours, and when it came to lunch. You would just sit next to him, hold his hand, and if he was lucky you would laugh at a joke he made. Eye contact was the least of your worries.

“Sooo what’s happening here?” Steve abruptly asks as he dips his french fry into ketchup. Sitting across from you at the table, Steve quirks his brow at you as your focus snaps to him. Successfully cutting your convo with Robin down completely.  “What do you mean?” you laugh off.

“Well Lisa needs me.” Robin announces, quickly freeing herself from the table. Your eyebrow raises at her sudden departure, but she just smiles and waves before scurrying to whatever table Lisa is at. Who even is Lisa? You don’t realize Eddie profusely shaking his head at Steve, before smacking his hand on his face as Steve clears his throat. “You and Eddie.” you look at Eddie with confusion. With his hand covering his mouth and nose flared, he just stares at Steve. “Something’s off.” Steve finishes, biting his ketchup covered french fry. Eddie squeezes your intertwined hand with his, needing to break your inquisitive eyes from his teetering restraint. Even if it was just for a moment. Steve chuckles, “I mean…” he takes another bite to a fry “Why are you-?”

“Steve. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Eddie warns, trying his best to keep his hands at where they were.

“No. Munson. It’s… “ Steve slowly pushes the styrofoam plate aside, contemplating his next words wisely. Your eyes searched for what was to come out of Steve's mouth, but he sighs. “You are no Madonna.” Steve points at you, “And YOU!!” he points at Eddie “Are no Sean Penn!!”. In seconds your jaw drops, milk splatters onto Steve as Eddie tosses its small carton at his head, and Steve is now over the table grappling Eddie.

    The taste of iron seeps within his mouth as he recollects himself from his triggering memories. Slapping his hands on each side of his bean bag chair, he shoots himself off of it. Quickly catching his guitar from falling, he swiftly places its strap on his shoulder. “I wrote a song for you.” he says heated, snatching the sheet you were filling out and crumbling it. 

“EDS!!” you yell out in shock, trying to snatch the balled-up paper from him but he puts it in his mouth. Before you could even say anything, he scratches his pick against his guitar strings. The scratchy sounds reverberating throughout his room loudly, since he always has his amp on max. Chewing the paper, he strums a quick solo, spitting the saliva-soaked blob at you. Disgusted you watch him headbang to a heavy riff, “WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME ALONG, SO FUCKING HIGH STRUNG, ANOTHER DAY OF THIS AND WE’LL BE DONE!!” he bursts out, strumming his guitar strings like he was punching it. 

    Your heart sank as he continues the angry riff, his brown eyes twitching as tears slowly begin to creep their way out. “LOVE YOU BUT IT JUST SEEMS TO BE FUN, YEAH EDDIE, THAT’S A GOOD ONE!! DOES SHE LOVE YOU, DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS!!” he continues. The vein in his neck protrudes from how loud he was screaming. You nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes welling up, but Eddie didn’t care to stop. Because when did you ever 'cared' to stop? Your intense stare never once faltering as he stalks towards your laid-back body. “CUZ IF SHE WANTS TO UP AND R-.” his voice cracks as his eyes winces, heavy tears running down his cheeks. His nose flares as he struggles to breathe, his hands not keeping up the harsh tempo. Opening his mouth, you scream “MY PARENTS ARE PLANNING TO SEND ME AWAY!!”.

“What?” Steve says, thrown back and silencing his guitar strings eerie screeching. Finally, you explain your past actions followed by a full blown breakdown. Believing you were invincible, your father always seemed to catch you in an act. And this one labelled you his grandest mistake. During a rage fit, “NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE WITH A DRUGGED-OUT LOSER!!” you repeated to Eddie. Causing Eddie to turn away from you, walk a few steps away, and plop on the end of his bed. Your father gave you an ultimatum. If you chose Eddie, he would send you away to live with your great grandmother. Well more like take care of your prudish great-grandmother. But if you chose different, then life goes as usual. And the only way he knew you weren't seeing Eddie, is if you focused on getting your grades up. Eddie looks up to his ceiling, bemused on how oblivious he was in all of this. The puzzle finally putting itself together.

     “BUT- but I choose you Eddie.” you cry, quickly placing your hand on top of his. Eddie stared at the walls while you vented out your frustration, silently crying. He hates your dad. But he understood his smothering defense. If they were to reverse roles, he would've done the same. But God he felt so wrong for placing all of his pent-up rage towards you. It wasn’t you who was pulling away, it was your family prying you off of him. Broken, he finally looks at you with soaked lashes, “A drugged-out loser huh.” he sadly repeats your father’s remark. You pout. Bringing him close, you rest his head on your chest. The strong sound of your heart beat causing him to sob.

As it was the first time he ever heard a precious thing give texture to his ostracized existence.

[namelessdumbass]

Meliora/Popestar Ghouls guide

I noticed some people still have trouble telling the Ghouls apart. Specifically Meliora era Ghouls. So i'll try to make things easier for all of you :)

WARNING: lots of text, my silly comments

Happy reading 😏

Learning which symbol/alchemic element (which was Martin Persner's/Omega's idea btw!) belongs to a certain Ghoul is essential:

🜂- Fire, 🜄- Water, 🜁 - Air, 🜃 - Earth, 🜀 - Quintessence. The first Fire Ghoul was also called Alpha and the first Quintessence Ghoul - Omega. Why such names? Because Quintessence/Ether Ghoul had Ω sticker on his guitar and fans started calling him Omega and his counterpart - Alpha. These names just fit them perfectly. Meliora era was unique because neither of previous Papas, nor Cardinal/Papa 4 called Ghouls by their names/elements. Only Papa III did that.

There were few changes of lineups during Era 3 and some Ghouls were given different names by fans. Simply because naming their elements wasn't enough. Examples will be seen below.

Ways to tell them apart when they are on stage:

Their instruments and stickers.

They are placed in certain areas of the stage: Quintessence and Earth on Papa's right, Water in the middle, Air and Fire on Papa's left.

Different body types, eyes, rings, bracelets and tattoos.

The way they behave.

When they are off stage, on promo photos etc just take a look at their chests.

Even though every Ghoul has 5 elements embroidered on their suits, their respective element is highlighted.

HQ pictures are pretty helpful if y'all wanna find your favorite Ghoul.

(from left to right: Air, Earth, Omega/Quintessence, Water and Alpha/Fire)

Also check this video of Papa III introducing Ghouls.

2015 lineup:

Air Ghoul #1. Simply Air. Joined Ghost in 2011. No tattoos, no rings. Usually quite calm on stage, favorite gesture is🤘 . Was the tallest Ghoul till 2017. Had cool keytar solo. Didn't move much.

Pebble aka Earth Ghoul #2. Joined Ghost in June 2015. Smol (yes, smaller than Papa). Has intense stare. Literal beast when it comes to playing drums. Had a special way of throwing sticks to fans (literally footballed them into the crowd lol). Funny one.

Quintessence Ghoul #1 aka Omega. Terzo's favorite Ghoul. His butt was smacked and grabbed by Papa countless times during Year Zero solo. Known for his stomping, graceful guitar playing style, has big silver rings on both hands and pretty eyes. Has the cutest laugh. Did lots of interviews when Special Ghoul wasn't around. Loves Abba. Has been in the band from 2010 till july 2016.

Water Ghoul #4 aka Delta. Slightly shorter than Papa III. Joined in 2015. Sometimes kicks air (literal air, not his fellow Ghoul) on stage, also filled in for Alpha (when he injured his shoulder) and Omega for a few shows. Played rhythm guitar after Omega left. Has no rings, no visible tattoos, but has mad skills. Allegedly he's the one who tried to kick the dude who got on stage and kissed Terzo lol

His regular bass Omega's guitar

Fire Ghoul #1 aka Alpha. Popular among fans. Hangs out with every Ghoul on stage, especially with Water and Pebble. Loves cameras, does✌ a lot, humps his guitar sometimes. Enjoys attention, a bit horny:) Also did a few interviews (mostly with Omega), has strong accent, also speaks Italian. Has rings and tattoos on both hands (had none during era 1 and 2!). Taller than Papa. Joined in 2010, left in november 2016.

2016

Omega left in july, so Water took over rhythm guitar and the first Ghoulette of the Ghost, Mist, was introduced. This lineup toured till the end of the year and nobody returned for Popestar tour in 2017.

Quintessence Ghoul #2. Basically just Water, but with different guitar and highlighted QE symbol on his uniform.

Mist Ghoulette aka Water#5. Tiny💜, unlike Copia's Ghoulettes she wore the same outfit and mask (that looked a bit too big for her) just like other Ghouls. Badass bass player, has a ring, a tattoo on her finger and painted nails. Veeeeery calm. Cute as hell. Alpha liked her a lot.

Fire, Earth and Air Ghouls were same as in 2015:

(from left to right on this picture: Mist, Quintessence #2 (aka Delta/Water Ghoul#4), Alpha/Fire, Earth/Pebble, Air)

2017

All of the previous Ghouls left and the new pack replaced them. If you see Ghouls who are +- same height as Papa, that's them!

(Dewdrop/Water #7, Aether/Quintessence #3, Zephyr/Air #2, Ifrit/Fire #2, Ivy/Earth #3)

Ifrit aka Fire Ghoul #2. Chaotic, hyperactive, Papa's hype man. Same height as Terzo, sweet bean, has wiiiide chest dorito shaped No tattoos, no rings. Spins, dances, jumps a lot. Gets "shot" during Ghuleh/Zombie Queen. No 🜂 sticker on his guitar. Only toured till 2018.

Aether aka Quintessence Ghoul #3. Beefy, jumps a lot, has rings and a bracelet. Always looks friendly. Plain black guitar with no QE symbol. Also pretty active, especially with his pal Ifrit. A bit taller than Papa III. Ran after Terzo when he got gragged off the stage by Papa Nihil's people. Joined in 2017, left in 2022.

P.S. since he's not Omega, his butt was safe during Year Zero solo 🙃

Dewdrop aka Water Ghoul #6 aka Sodo. Smaller than Terzo. Has an aggressive guitar playing style. A bit horny (it got worse). No visible tattoos. Proudly played bass with someone's panties. Syncs with Ifrit and Aether during Ghuleh/Zombie Queen outro. Became Fire Ghoul #3 in 2018. He's still in the Ghost (as of february 2024).

Zephyr aka chAir Ghoul #2. Sits on chair, a lot :) Charming, more active than previous Air ghoul. Loses it during Monstrance Clock, Per Aspera Ad Inferi and Cirice. Could be a great DJ. Almost the same height as Papa. Has a ring. His Mummy Dust keytar solo -[X]. Only toured till 2018.

Ivy aka Earth Ghoul #3. Underrated, many don't know much about him. Was present only during European leg of the Popestar tour (from march till july). Has brown eyes, a tattoo and bracelets. Same height as Ifrit. Wasn't around much, but still did a great job. Was later replaced by Mountain.

Mountain aka Earth Ghoul #4. Joined Ghost in july 2017. The tallest Ghoul. Hates shoes. Has a tattoo on the finger of his right hand, but you won't see shit on photos from this era because he wasn't photographed much and drummers usually get less attention than others in general:/ Quite calm comparing to Pebble. He's still in the band (as of february 2024).

Honorable mentions:

Special Ghoul aka Phil. Has green eyes, speaks Swedish. Did lots of interviews, showed up to grab a few awards for Ghost, worships cats and loves Abba. Literally Papa in disguise (aka Fire Ghoul's uniform and mask). Has been in the shadows since 2017.

Cowbell Ghoul. The myth, the legend. Played cowbell during "Ritual" and "If You Have Ghosts" a few times at the end of the Popestar tour in 2016. Tall, has a posture of a shrimp, always got shooed by Papa. Many want him back.

Aaaand that's it. I hope it was helpful. Thanks for reading :)

🌈👻

[angel-of-the-moons]

I haven’t stopped thinking about that Hobie baby fever fic ever since you posted it. Many thoughts. Many thoughts many many thoughts and ideas many many little ideas.

You have people saying ‘Oh good luck lol kids are SO hard!’ ‘He’s definitely gonna regret it you’re gonna be a single parent’. But Hobie’s probably been WISHING from a young age he could be a parent, the only thing he didn’t prep for is your little one grabbing his wicks and him nervously calling out “Luv, luv help me LUV-”. He learnt very quickly to tie his hair back when he’s holding them. If you have a little girl, everyone always thinks it’s you who’s done her hair for the day or for school. NOPE. Hobie’s been with her in the bathroom since 6 in the morning putting her in braids and buns. Your baby is his whole world and he’ll be DAMNED if he won’t be the absolute best dad EVER ‼️

Oh my godddddddddd my ovaries went 💥💥

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet Pt. 2

Dad!Hobie x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: A lil angst at the start, Fluff. So much fluff.

A/N: I'm basing all my baby prep off of the things I had to do for my nephew. I am unsure the proper care that goes into textured hair but I hope I can do it justice!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

You remember what people told you, how "someone like him" wouldn't be able to handle being a dad, how he'd leave you. The words said by your mother hurt the worst, the things she said about Hobie. Your father was no better, especially when they found out you two agreed to get pregnant before anything else.

Especially after you put the positive pregnancy tests, the test results from blood work with your doctor, and some baby booties on the table as a surprise.

It was supposed to go like you imagined, right? Happy jubilant crying, hugs, congratulations...

You got the exact opposite, with your parents criticizing everything about your boyfriend, the father of your unborn baby. The man you loved.

"What kind of father would he be? A bad one, just look at how he's dressed! You think he can help dress your child?" Your mother scoffed. "And those awful piercings! I bet your baby will be running around with holes in their face by the time they're six!"

"And what about a job? You can't be the only one to support your family. He's a man, he needs to step up and quit it with that "punk lifestyle". It's not suitable to raise my grandchild in!" Your father grunted.

After your baby was born, you cut them off and had a courthouse wedding, and a little get-together with his friends from the Spider Society. A mix of a reception and baby shower.

Joke's on them! Hobie was an amazing father, and an amazing husband. The moment he found out you two were having a little girl?

Pink. And. Purple. Her style would be all punkish of course.

He got stuffed instruments that crinkled for when she would teethe, some guitar-shaped rattles...

And he would never admit it, but Hobie actually cried, when he got to hold your baby girl for the first time. You guys named her Selena. Selena Brown.

She came out angry, wailing, as if she was pissed off at the world she had only been in for a few moments.

"Already got the spirit! Make a big noise, a big statement. That's my girl!" Hobie laughed, playing with her tiny feet.

After that, Hobie was very attentive. From you working from home, he would help. He'd fetch the breast pump when you needed it, would prep the bottles, and keep Selena occupied while you worked. He would even take the late shifts at night to make sure you got your rest.

As Selena got bigger, her hair became a bit unruly, and at times you had no idea what to do with it. Hobie? He came in clutch. The proper ties, hair masks, grease (if needed), oils, brushes...

The trick was getting the rambunctious one year old to hold still while her father attempted to tame the poofy mass.

It was one day, you got up from your computer only to hear Hobie shout your name.

"Babe! Babe!" He cried out, grunting.

Of course, you made a dash for the living room, only to see your husband with your toddler. Apparently she had moved behind him, her hands clinging to his shirt to help keep her balanced as she bounced on her little chubby feet.

Her big brown eyes gleamed as she giggled, her bottom teeth poking out in the most adorable way.

Well... it wasn't from where Hobie sat.

Selena's little fist had a tight hold over one of his wicks, tugging his head back sharp.

"A lil' help, luv?!" He winced, hissing at you as you covered your face to try and keep from laughing.

"Come on, Bug, give daddy's poor head a rest. He's got enough problems with that mess he calls hair." You tease, scooping up your little girl.

But... even though her grip loosened, Hobie's wick stayed attached to her hand.

"Oh... ohhhhh..." You said, clicking your tongue.

"What! What!" Hobie groaned, trying to tug his head free.

"You made me have a spider baby."

[oneforthemunny]

groupie love |rockstar!eddie munson x groupie!reader|

prompt: the face of corroded coffin, eddie munson, has a reputation of being out there, rough, raunchy, leaving his fans and tabloids in a tizzy. after seeing him in concert, you try and become one of the lucky ladies he beds for the night. the night turns to one you'll never forget.

takes place before nepo baby!reader. kinda the backstory, lore of eddie and his raunchy ways lol <3

contains: bdsm themes, hard!mean!dom!rockstar!eddie, groupie!sub!reader, degrading, blindfolding, spanking, oral male receiving, big time exhibitonism, use of drugs, language, filthy filthy filthy. MINORS ABSOLUTELY DO NOT ENTER!!!! 18+

You bounced in your studded heels, fishnet stockings ripped around the toes, the aftermath of walking barefoot to try and get to the pit, jumping and screaming the angry, heavy lyrics with the rest of the audience. You'd shimmied your way through the drunken, inked up men, punching the air and screeching, adrenaline from the performance hot-wiring a new kind of rage. You couldn't blame them; the heavy bass shaking the stadium, the screams of the fans, and most importantly the band, Corroded Coffin, standing right in front of you, putting on a performance of a lifetime.

He was on his knees, so close to you that you could smell his cologne, mixed with the reek of weed, booze, and sweat that exuded from the audience. Eddie Munson, bad boy, front man of the band, always shredding the guitar and grunting filthy lyrics into the mic. Parents around the world were repulsed with him, with the entirety of the band, their vulgar ways and even worse press, scandalous and obscene. It's what excited you, and millions of other horny, rebellious ragers- that was apparent with their album sales and the size of this stadium, sold out and rocking.

Their recent press had really stirred up a fury with the media. Eddie, along with Gareth and Nick, seen strutting out of a well known BDSM club in West Hollywood, some leather clad, desperate girl clutched to him, collar and harness on, his leather jacket covering the rest of her- furious red hand prints on her ass that showed through the paparazzi pictures.

They'd never been conservative, quiet about the kind of sex they had, rough and nasty. It's probably why they had a line of groupies waiting behind the venue after each show, hoping desperately that their manager would pick them to come backstage. That they too might get a chance to be used and abused by the rockstars, leaving on shaky legs to tell their friends unimaginable stories.

Eddie's eyes locked with yours. How you'd managed to get that close to the stage, sneaking in behind a burlier man, was beyond you. His tongue was out, lewd licking suggestions between two wiggling fingers that mimicked a 'V' shape. You grinned, winking back at him, sultry and flirty- the way they liked it, all rockstars were the same, after all.

Eddie smirked, eyes flitting to the next screaming desperate girl, picking up another lacy, thong that was thrown on stage. He pushed the crotch of the panties to his nose, eyes closed dramatically when he inhaled, the crows roared. "Whew, that is one sweet pussy right here." Eddie grinned salaciously into the mic, twirling the panties around his fingers.

"Y'all need to get a whiff, here," Eddie pulled the strings of the thong back on his fingers, a make shift slingshot that he launched into the crowd. The crowd bustled, fighting and tearing each other apart for the tiny piece of lace, Eddie laughing in amusement from the stand.

"Animals. I swear." He laughed, shaking his head, looking over at Jeff. "I love it." Eddie grinned, downing the water bottle of vodka beside him. "This one goes out to that sweet pussy out there, whoever you are. Here's Super Soaker."

You blushed, tummy twisting and erupting in butterflies. You looked around carefully, trying to eye the girl who's panties he'd claimed, a tinge of jealousy in your veins. What if he picked her over you? Maybe you should've thrown your panties on stage- Well, you would've if you were wearing any.

Under the nylon, black tights you were bare, for easier access. Tight, red, leather mini skirt that hugged and squeezed your ass deliciously. Your top, a black corset with hooks and zippers- you had to go to the seedy part of town, a run down sex shop, where you'd picked it out amongst the whips, masks, gags, and paddles that lined the walls. It made you clench, mind trailing back to the girl Eddie had on his arm in the tabloid. You picked up a little collar, black and snug, tossing it on top of the corset.

You hoped he'd see it and be reminded of that night. Not that he remembered the girl or much of anything- his coke blown eyes told you that- but the actions of the night. The handprints on her ass, his seed spilling down her legs, cheeks red and neck bruised with hickeys. You wanted that so badly you'd do anything for it. Your copy was worn, corners tearing where you clamped it, rubbing yourself furiously at night to the image, the thought that he might do that to you. You prayed he would.

The concert had ended nearly an hour ago, the bitter cold of the air outside the stadium left you shivering and shaking, clambered together with the other desperate girls near the backdoors. The large, black SUVs were still running and parked behind you, so you knew they were still in there. Your breath clouded and fogged in front of you, teeth chattering in the chill of the night, but you refused to cover up- that was rule number one. Which is why the three sweet, doe eyed girls next to you, covered and cozy in their coats, would be the first to get rejected.

"Alright, alright, back!" The door opened, a gruff looking man, dressed in all black and a shirt that read 'SECURITY' in white, blocked letters. "Make room, ladies! I know you're desperate, but c'mon, make a path!" He barked.

You pressed your lips in a hard line, huffing when you moved back, shuffling to create a very narrow path with the rest of the girls. Then you saw him. Wild curls, frizzed and puffed with the aftermath of the show, leather jacket and heavy boots stomping through the wet asphalt, the other five members following behind him. He didn't look up, lit cigarette between his lips, blowing air and ignoring the cries and pleads from the other girls, stomping to the car.

Your heart sank, smile dropping when they got in, not even so much as an arrogant grin or snarky comment; nothing.

A disheveled man in an opened button up, eyes blood shot and nose twitching scrambled out the doors, security beside him. He scanned the rows, then looking at the writing on a torn piece of paper, rubbing his nose furiously with a twitch.

"Ok, I need, you, you," He scanned the lines, eyes flickering back from the lists to all of you, lined up and desperate like call girls. Like this was an audition and you were chosen for a call back. "You, You-wait, not you, sorry, sweetheart. You, yeah in the red, and," He turned, eyes locking on yours bored, looking down at the paper, then back at you. "You," He nodded.

Your heart stopped, fists clenching and biting back an excited smile. The man didn't wait, shoving his hands in his coat pocket, and motioning to the security guard to let the chosen girls follow. "C'mon, quickly now. Once in a lifetime ladies. Let's go."

The six of you scurried behind him in a line, ducklings to a mother goose- a very coked out, manly, mother goose. Heels clacking against the asphalt, eyes cutting to each other with excited grins.

Your head craned over your shoulder, looking at the desperate girls who pouted and cried, envious glares shot towards all of you as you piled in the car. You pulled yourself in, hunching over to find a seat in the rows.

"Back there, sugar," The man from before pointed from the passenger seat. "Very back. Last row with Ed."

Your heart raced, ducking down to hide your smile, shimmying through through the small area towards the back. Each of the girls were cuddled up, close with their chosen member. A haze of smoke filled the van already, blunts and cigarettes blurring and clouding your vision.

"Hi there," Eddie greeted, brown eyes half lidded. He looked so cool, so calm, spread out in the seats, thighs wide and arm laid out down the length of the leather. You could see his inked skin, the tiny etchings and details you'd seen a million times, now more prominent.

"Hi," You grinned. "This seat taken?" You purred in a teasing tone.

Eddie took a long drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash into the cup holder by the tinted windows. "All yours," His words poured out with the cloud of smoke. "Saved it just for you, baby."

You smirked, thankful the darkness of the van and the smoky haze concealed your blush, sitting next to him, close but not desperate. Thighs touching, but leaned back so you could see him, so he could see you.

"What's your name?" Eddie asked through slow drags of the cigarette. You told him, eyes batting and a little grin on your lips. He repeated it slowly, letting every letter, syllable roll slowly off his tongue.

"That was a killer show." You smiled. "One of the bests I've seen."

Eddie nodded slowly. "You see a lot of shows?" He asked, but you knew what he was implying. You do this often?

"Not all the time, but I've been to a few." You answered cooly. I'm experienced, but not a pro.

Eddie smirked, dimples deepening on the right side of his face. He bummed his cigarette, shifting so his hand was on your tight clad thigh, rolling high up towards the hem of your little leather skirt. "I appreciate you saying that. Glad you had fun." He purred, sweet.

You were shocked, intrigued. Most rockstars wanted you to smother them in praises, tell them how great they are, whether it was their performance on stage or through whiny cries in the back of the tourbus or hotel rooms about how good they were making you feel. Eddie didn't have to be nice to you. He had a million other options that would do anything to be where you were now, some of them even in the car with you, cuddled next to Nick or Darius.

"Yeah, I did. Thanks." You smiled, biting back a flustered blush. His hands were toying with your skirt still, fingers moving and traveling in teasing slow circles towards your hot center. It had you clenching, thighs squirming and pressing together. "It was really entertaining. You don't slow down, do you?" You grinned, teasingly.

His brow lifted, amused. "What was your favorite song?" He asked, fingers tickling the hem of your tights that ran through your slit, warm and damp.

"Hm, that's a tough one." You purred, breath stuttering with his movements. He'd done this before too, that was obvious. "Triple G is always my favorite. It was so cool to see live." You mewled, eyes batting towards him, hips grinding into his touch.

Triple G or Good, Giving, and Game was one of their raunchier songs. Risqué and vulgar from the newest album, all centered around the motto used in BDSM play (according to the expose piece you'd read in a gossip column). The track featured snaps of a whip in the background, and Eddie always brought out a crop or paddle on stage, swinging it around then throwing it into the audience when he sang the infamous lyric about "having his ways to make bad girls behave".

Eddie seemed to like your answer, brows lifting in amusement, but his eyes darkened int something sinister, it made you pulse. "Yeah?" Eddie asked, his thumb pressing hard through the material of your tights to your clit, making you whine and jump. "You GGG, baby? You even know what that means?"

"Of course, I do." Your voice wavered, not nearly as sincere and strong as you wanted it to be. You were melting under his touch.

Eddie hummed, blowing air from his nose. "I see a million girls like you, all dressed in this cute little leather stuff because it's what they think I like." His mouth was near your ear, breath tickling you, goosebumps covering your arms. His thumb was painfully slow, teasing you. "And I do. I think you look hot, 's why you're back here." He grinned.

You whimpered, grinding into his hand, eyes watching his wrist flex and rotate between your legs. "But are you really into it?" Eddie asked, eyes dark on you. His other hand grabbed your jaw, pulling you to look at him, noses brushing in the closeness. "Are you really Triple G, or you just looking to tell all your friends about how you fucked another rockstar? Another notch in your belt?"

Your head spun, heart hammering in your chest. His question was dark with an unfamiliar edge. Degrading and mean you could take- you'd been tag teamed by Nikki Six and Tommy Lee last summer- but this was making you falter. You supposed that's what he wanted, judging by his intense stare, thumb still mercilessly working you.

"You really game, baby?" Eddie purred, low and gruff, voice raspy from the show and the cigarette.

"I'm game." You croaked out, teeth clenched, coming closer and closer to the edge.

"That why you wore this little collar?" Eddie growled. "You want me to use it?"

"Yes, please." Your eyes rounded, biting down on your lip, toes curing. The coil in your tummy was getting tighter and tighter, his stare and fingers making you grow hotter, melting into his touch. "Please, sir." You whimpered, pathetically.

Eddie's eyes lit up, shocked or impressed, you weren't sure. Either way, you knew you'd done it. Sealed the deal. You'd finally get what you wanted, to be ruined by Eddie Munson.

"Oh?" Eddie grinned. "Alright, baby, alright." He purred, lips brushing your jaw, electrified under the light touch, leaving you shivering and squirming. "Let's see how game you are. How good you can get for me."

Eddie pulled his hand away quickly, falling back into his seat, legs spread, cock hard and straining against his pants. You gasped at the loss of touch, looking at him with betrayed, rounded eyes. "My first rule," Eddie reached for his lighter, tapping his pack of Marlboros against the heel of his palm, his eyes lifted to you darkly. "You don't cum without Master's permission."

You squirmed but nodded obediently, eyes trained on his growing erection. "Yes, Master," You muttered, the flick of the lighter and Eddie's inhale buzzing in your ears next to you.

Eddie smirked, lips curling around the cigarette for a long drag. "We're gonna have fun tonight, baby. I can tell."

The van ride was longer than you expected, but you were sure time was slowing down, inching and crawling because you were buzzing with excitement. Their hotel was in the neighboring city from the concert, hopeful that it would be concealed from badgering paparazzi or crazed fans.

Unfortunately for them, the flashing lights of cameras flickered, lining the front of covered entrance all the way to the door, hotel security lines with roped and pushing them back.

"Goddammit, Nelson, I thought you said we'd be good!" Gareth's open hand palmed slapped against the door.

"I thought we would!" Nelson, the coked out manager of the boy, exclaimed from the passenger seat. "I bet it was that little bitch at the venue. Fuckin' knew she heard. Probably called to make a buck." Nelson seethed.

Your eyes, wide and watching the flashes and screams of the paps as you pulled up. Eddie blew a cloud of smoke at you. "When we get outta here, you don't stop, you don't talk, you don't even fuckin' look at them, or this is ends here." Eddie threatened. "You just follow me. Don't try to be cute, or they'll get a picture of me leaving your ass at the doors. Make you the rejected girl for all these vultures to tear apart. Got it?"

You nodded obediently, heart hammering at the threat. Hotel security opened the doors to the car, helping each of the boys out, the cluster of girls that followed them. Nelson was out, screaming and threatening the paps, then berating the manager of the hotel at the door.

Eddie climbed past you first, not helping you out, but pausing so you could follow him, clambering with your head down, eyes trained on his heavy boots that pounded into the concrete with every step. The flashes were furious, blinding out of your peripheral. The hotel staff greeted you kindly, opening doors and ushering you towards the private elevator.

You were quiet, eyes still down casted. The elevator rose, dinging and climbing the floors until it reached the top. The boys scattered, grabbing their keys from Nelson with the playful threat to "behave".

Room 1029, the end of the hall, secluded from the rest. Eddie pushed the door open, watching you. You stood, waiting his command. He grinned, impressed. "Good," He grumbled, nodding towards the opened door. "Go in."

You padded in, looking around the large, extravagant room. Mini fridge stocked, fruit basket on the table, Eddie's things already inside, including a rather tempting black, leather case on the center of the made bed, constructing against the crips, white linens of the hotel sheets.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Eddie asked, arms crossed leaning against the counter of the small kitchen. His cigarette was dwindled, nearly gone. "Don't want to make you feel like you have to."

You nodded, shoulders shuddering gently. "Please, Master," You purred. "I want to please you."

Eddie grinned, stepping slow and calculated towards you. He cupped your face in his hands, and you could smell the nicotine on the tips of his fingers. "I give all my girls a safe word. In case you don't want to or it gets too much. You say it, we stop." You nodded obediently. "Bat." He said simply.

You fought the tinges in your expression that wanted to smile, pressing and rolling your lips. "Bat?" You repeated.

Eddie nodded firmly. "You say that, we stop, no questions asked, no judgements. Got it?"

You nodded, heat pooling deep in your belly. You hadn't expected it to be this intimate, personal. He really was a pro, more than a flashy, bad boy using this angle for his image.

"So tell me," Eddie's fingers ran down your cheeks, towards your lips. "What do you think about when you put this on? What do you think about me doing to you?" He whispered, thumb pulling your bottom lip, soft and plush.

You shivered. "I-I saw the pictures in the magazine." You admitted, feeling the pad of his thumb across your cheek bone. "The girl you were with coming out of the club. She-She..." You whimpered, his left hand creeping down your jaw, massaging it lightly.

"She what?" Eddie pushed, dark eyed and intense.

"She looked... wrecked." You shuddered at the admission, swallowing thickly when his fingers ghosted, feather light and teasing over your throat.

"And you want that?" Eddie pressed, lifting a brow. "You want me to do that to you, too?" You nodded furiously, his thumb circling your pulse point on your neck, feeling your rapid heart beat under his touch. "You want me to ruin you like that?"

You whimpered behind closed lips, nodding furiously, blushing under his gaze. You were still closed but you felt so exposed, so seen.

"Or do you want me to show you off after too?" Eddie pressed, lips curling into a snarl. "Want me to parade you around after, show everyone what I did to you so some other needy little thing will get off to those pictures too?"

"Please," You whined out, core throbbing.

"That what you want, huh? Want everyone to see?" Eddie teased you, mean and calculated, his grasp around your neck tightening just lightly, cutting off your air supply.

You gasped a little, but kept your hands by your side, your eyes still on him. Eddie squeezed tighter, snarling at you. "I asked you a question."

You wheezed, mouth opening to get air in. "Yes," You rasped. "Please, Master."

Eddie let go of your throat with a shove, stomping towards his bed. "Strip. Everything but that pretty little collar." He ordered, opening the fastens on the case.

Your hands trembled, excited and anxious, unzipping your skirt, shoving it until it was a puddle on the floor beneath you. You kicked off your heels, yanking down the straps of the harness and squeezing it over your frame, tights following. You kicked your discarded clothes into the corner of the room, eyes trained on Eddie, the satin, rolled bag on display in front of him.

Eddie's gaze lifted to you, shirt discard showing you his porcelain skin littered in tattoos, his scars that some had tried to cover. He lifted a ringed hand, motioning you forward with two fingers.

You took a step before he huffed. "Crawl." He barked.

You lowered down to your knees on shaky legs, hands and knees moving against the ivory floors towards the carpeted bedroom. You kneeled in front of Eddie, eyes up and awaiting his next instruction.

Eddie's hand cupped your jaw, rolling it so he could better see your face. "Such a pretty thing," He purred. You blushed furiously, biting back a smile. "Stand up, arms behind your back."

You stood slowly, barely steadied before Eddie clasped your folded hands, pushing you face first towards the bed. You barely registered the cool metal on your wrists before you heard the click, cuffs biting into your skin, closed tight and hard around you, binding you.

You lifted your head out of the pristine linens, the smell of bleach and laundry detergent filling your nose. Eddie's hand found your hair, yanking your hair tight by your scalp, tipping your head back to him.

"You gonna be a good little slut for me?" Eddie growled, his free hand rubbing roughly down your ass and thighs. "Gonna do what Master says?"

"Y-Yes, Master," You shuddered, clenching when his hand swiped through your slick folds.

Eddie hummed. "What's the safe word?" He challenged, fingers working on your clit.

You bit back a moan, squirming against the bed. "Bat." You answered, hips rocking towards his fingers.

Eddie grinned, letting go of your hair, pulling his other hand out of your aching pussy. "Good." He smirked, smacking your ass hard.

You gasped, shockwaves flooding into your aching core, leaving your sighing out contently, raising on your toes to arch your back further, silently asking for more.

Eddie scoffed, rummaging through the black container again. You weren't sure if you were allowed to look, opting to keep your eyes forward, leaning up just a bit to see into the mirror on the dresser. You could see Eddie, wild curls and bare chest, hunched over his menacing black box of what appeared to be toys.

You saw him move closer, feeling his presence behind you. "Here, I'll take care of your wandering eyes." Eddie growled, back skull patterned bandana in his hand. He spread it between his hands, stretching out the folded material and bringing it over your eyes, your vision going black. You recognized the material, usually tucked under his bangs as a make shift headband on stage, now tied around your head, leaving you reeling and tingling with anticipation.

Your vision was blacked completely, Eddie's hand on your back suddenly making you jump with anticipation. His touch was soft, light, teasing and tracing all the way down your spine.

"So," Eddie purred. "You're a professional star fucker, hm?"

You shivered under the touch, fists clenching behind your back. "Something like that." You sighed, breathy and airy.

Eddie's hand cracked down on your ass, leaving you yelping and lifting with the impact. Eddie hummed, fingers swiping between your legs. You gaped, shoving your face into the sheets to try and conceal your sounds.

"Seems like it." Eddie scoffed, pumping his fingers slow in and out of you, your slick coating his fingers easily, slipping further and further inside you.

You moaned, hips swirling in pleasure, grinding further and further onto his hand. His thumb circled your clit. "Any other rockstar fuck you like this?" Eddie asked lowly. "Or am I the first one?"

You gasped, the heat in your tummy was building quickly, much faster than you expected. Now with the blindfold and the restraints, you were sure you'd come soon.

"P-Please, Master," You whimpered, whining high pitched and nasally. "Oh, fuck, please may I cum? Please, 'm so close."

Eddie's fingers kept pumping at the same pace, thumb circling your clit without any signs of letting up. "Hm, let me think about it..." He sighed dramatically, mocking. You couldn't see his face but you could picture his salacious smirk, dark and unfair.

Your thighs clenched, waves of pleasure already beginning to flood your system, teetering you closer and closer. "Oh! Please, please, please, Master, please let me cum, please!" You begged, writing to escape his touch, grip unforgiving even as you closed around his hand.

"Hold it," Eddie hissed into your ear, hair tickling your neck. Your thighs trembled, clenching shut, body twitching with pleasure. "I said, hold it. You better not cum if you know what's good for you."

Your eyes pinched shut under the bandana blindfold, jaw clenching so hard you were sure your teeth would crack. He was making you feel so good, too good. You knew you wouldn't last.

"Ah-ah, fuck, please let me cum!" You squealed, back arching, a last resort to try and get away from his fingers that teased you, free yourself from the orgasm you were so close to having.

"I don't think you deserve it." Eddie grunted, his chest dropping on your back to keep you from moving. You could feel his hot skin on yours, smell the remnants of sweat mixed with spicy cologne. It only made you hotter, small whimpers leaving your lips, pathetic and begging.

"You think you deserve to cum? A little slut like you?" Eddie pressed, his teeth grazed the lobe of your ear, biting around your dangled earrings, pulling at the flesh so you cried out. It sent you over the edge, your body convulsed, gushing hard over his fingers.

You heaved, falling into the mattress, body quaking with the shockwaves of pleasure. Eddie's fingers didn't leave you, pumping hard and punishing into you, the vulgar squelch your pussy made around his fingers filling the room, mixing with your breathy cries and the buzz of the radiator.

Eddie tsked behind you, his fingers making you squirm, overstimulated from his touch. You shuddered when he did finally pull them from you. "Oh, now why'd you do that, hm?" Eddie cooed, mocking and mean.

You could hear him move behind you, clatters and rummaging through what you assumed was his box. Eddie's boots were muffled on the carpet, but still hard and menacing when they came towards you.

"I told you not to cum, and what did you do?" Eddie sighed. You whimpered, feeling his sigh of disappointment on your shoulder blades, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

Cold, leather rubbed across the globes of your ass, making you jump, gasping loudly enough for Eddie to hear. His mouth was next to your ear, ringed hand pressing on the small of your back. "I'm gonna make you regret that, honey." He purred.

Your only warning of what was to come was the soft taps on your upturned cheeks, before the leather paddle cracked down right in the center of your backside.

You cried out, back arching, bound hands clenching into white knuckled fists. Your senses barely had time to register, pain just setting in before another searing swat came fast and hard to your left cheek, then again to your right.

You bucked, hips shimmying to dodge each hit, but your pussy ached, filled again with that desperate, deep need and want you craved.

"Wanna be a bad girl?" Eddie grunted, another resounding smack! of the paddle colliding with your ass. "I'll show you how I treat bad girls."

You sobbed, tears heaving the itchy cotton of the bandana. Your arms wrested to get free from the handcuffs, to reach down and stop the assault on your behind, but were stopped by the metal digging into them.

"Yeah, you wanna act like such a bad girl, such a little whore." Eddie seethed, paddle swinging and striking your red, angry cheeks.

"You want to go tell everyone about how Eddie Munson fucked you? Make sure you tell him about how I fucking ruined you. You got that?" Eddie growled, spanking you hard, sending you flying further into the bed with a gasp. "Tell that to your friends, sell that story to the tabloids. Tell them all about how I handle bad girls."

You sobbed, abs clenching and pleasure rolling through your body again, the final hit close to your center, making your legs shake. Eddie scoffed, mocking and mean, but he set the paddle down, threw it on the floor with a loud thud.

"How you doin'?" Eddie asked lowly, hands smoothing, squeezing and kneading your hot flesh.

You shuddered, sniffling hard. "G-Good." You cried, thighs rubbing together.

"Good." Eddie repeated, you could practically hear his dimpled grin through the words. The kiss he gave to your right cheek was unexpected, wet and loud, making you jump slightly, staggering back into his touch.

Metal on metal scraping behind you, then your right hand was free, falling onto the clean linen beneath you. You rolled your wrist only for a second before Eddie rolled you, sore ass colliding with the cool sheets. You recoiled, hips lifting, only for his hand splayed on your tummy to push you back down.

"You took that beating well." Eddie purred, pulling your free hand in front of you. "Better than some of the girls at the Hellfire Club, and they're supposed to be professional. Maybe you should go work there."

You grinned, glad the bandana covered your blushing cheeks under the compliment, but you were sure he could see it on your exposed chest. "Thank you," You sighed.

"I'll call Marco, the manager. Put in a good word for ya." Eddie quipped, the handcuffs snapping back onto your wrists just as tight as before.

Eddie pulled up forward by the metal chain between the cuffs, your legs steady and unsure when you stood, legs shaky, following blinding behind him, his guiding hand on your cuffs. "After this, you'll have a hell of a resume." Eddie's voice was teetering on the edge of playful and something dark, salacious. "They'll be beggin' to have you in the dungeon."

The sound of the sliding door, squeaky and heavy through the hinges could be heard, the cold gust of the air on your chest, nipples pebbling hard.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Eddie asked, his hand gentle on your hip. You could hear the sound of the paparazzi, clambering and shouting beneath you, arguing with hotel security and each other. "Last chance. Call it and we go inside."

You shuddered, pulsing between your legs though your heart hammered in your chest. "It's alright." You said quietly.

Eddie adjusted the bandana, pulling it further to cover your eyes and some of your nose, hand cracking down on your ass. "Good girl." He growled, pulling your cuffs behind him.

"Hey!" Eddie yelled, a loud, piercing whistle following. You froze, body stilling and breath catching. You were doing this, you were actually doing this. "Up here, you bastards!" Eddie roared down to the paparazzi below. "Here's your money shot!" He cackled loud, electrified like he was on stage down at them.

You grunted softly, pulled over the cool concrete, then pressed forward onto the cold, wet steel, your hands leaning over the rail. It hit just below your ribs, sending you forward just slightly, Eddie's hand steadying you on your hip.

You could hear him shoving his boxers down to the middle of his thigh, condom wrapped crinkling before his erection was flush, rubbing against your ass through the latex. "Give 'em a show for me, alright, baby?" He purred in your ear, before you were bent over.

You could see the faint, blinding flashes through the material of the blindfold, the roars and clambering of the paparazzi beneath you as they screamed frantically, deafening. You gasped loudly when Eddie pushed in, hard and quick, filling you swiftly with no warning.

Your head tipped back, crying out when his hips were flush against yours, barely giving you anytime to adjust before he was fucking you hard. Unrelenting, fast thrusts that had you crying out, sobbing and moaning beneath the bandana, handcuffed hands balled over the rail.

Eddie's free hand went to your jaw, grabbing tightly as his other stayed on your hips, balls slapping hard against your abused ass. His face was next to yours, cheek to cheek. "Yeah, this what you want? This what you want, you sick fucks?" Eddie mocked them loudly. His tongue licked a long, wet stripe down the side of your face.

You cried out loudly, mouth stretching and contorting around his ringed grip, bottom lip tucking between your teeth dramatically. You didn't need to play it up this much, it really did feel that good, but Eddie told you to, so you did.

You clenched hard around him, squirming into his touch. "'M close," Eddie muttered in your ear, before his hand moved, tracing lightly over your collared neck, squeezing your throat lightly. You gasped, clenching hard around him. "Fuck, keep doing that, baby." Eddie growled, fingers pressing further into your neck.

The paparazzi never quieted down, shutter of the cameras and flashes never stopping, but they seemed to wash away, drowning out when you fell forward, hard metal rail cutting into your ribs. You laid limply, whimpering and crying as Eddie fucked you, hard and fast, his face still against yours and his hand still around your neck.

You heard him groan, low and guttural in your ear before he slowed, hips rocking to a slow stop, hand dropping from your neck. You fell limp against the rail, Eddie's hand pulling you back. Your legs were weak, knees falling and colliding onto the hard cement. Eddie laughed wildly back at the crowd, taunting them some more while you tried to catch your breath.

"Here," Eddie whispered, bent down with a hand on your shoulder. He helped you up, slow, before you felt the familiar ivory on the ground instead of the cement, hearing the closing of the sliding door.

"That was pretty sick, honey." Eddie laughed. Your blindfold was falling down your nose. "You can take that off. We're done now."

You pushed the soaked, black fabric over your eyes, letting it rest on your sticky forehead. Eddie stood by the balcony doors, cigarette back between his lips, dimpled grin on his face. "I gotta say, you impressed me." He shrugged. "Didn't think you'd really be down with it."

You let out a breathy laugh, smile lopsided. "What can I say? I told you I was game." You said sweetly, eyes glassy and dazed.

Eddie grinned, blowing the smoke out slowly through his nose. "There's a car for you 'round back, so the vultures don't see you alright? Unless you want them to, whatever you want." Eddie shrugged.

You sighed, legs shaky, and skin burning with every step. You reached for your corset, pulling it up your legs, hissing when it touched your sensitive flesh. "I'm serious about the Hellfire Club or even the White Lotus Lounge," Eddie said, arm propped in a lean by the doorway. "You'd be really good down there." He grinned, dark and suggestive.

"I might take you up on that." You smirked, zipping your skirt up. "Will you be my reference?"

Eddie snorted. "After that? Fuck yeah." He grinned. You reached for the bandana around your neck, pulling it off and reaching to give it back to him. Eddie shook his head, ashing his cigarette on the floor lazily. "Nah, you keep that. You earned it." He winked.

You blushed, rolling your eyes lightly. "Thanks for this, and the show tonight. It really was great." You padded to the door, heels and bandana in hand.

Eddie walked towards you. "Thanks, means a lot." He smiled. "This was fun too, by the way. Real fun."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." Eddie smirked. "Don't be surprised when I sing about it on my next album."

You snorted lightly. "I'll be looking forward to it." You smiled, opening the hotel door. "See ya later, Eddie. Best of luck with everything."

"You too, sweet heart." Eddie winked, leaning out the doorway. He watched you pad towards the private elevator, legs still a little wobbly. "You make sure you talk nice about me to those tabloids alright?"

You laughed, pressing the elevator button. "I would never." You bantered. "I never kiss and tell, baby." You purred playfully, winking back at him. The elevator dinged, and you stepped on. "Thanks for a good time, Eddie. Have a good one." You called through the closing doors. Eddie grinned wide, inhaling the cigarette deeply before shutting his door.

The next day, the tabloids were booming, buzzing with the pictures of the bad boy rockstar and his mystery woman, fucking wildly on the hotel balcony. The buzz from the press was enough to have the media talking about Corroded Coffin for months, selling out most of their shows, and scoring them more covers of gossip columns than they knew what to do with.

It was good for you, too. You got to brag to your friends that you were Eddie Munson's infamous 'Balcony Babe' (the name was questionable, but the song made the top 100, appearing on the album like Eddie told you). A history making, raunchy hookup the world would never forget.

[wilbursprincess]

October 15- Superstarbur Fucking a Fan

Superstarbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Insane amounts of fan service, a few mentions of alcohol, piercings, praise kink, size kink (kind of?), a very rough blowjob, facial, unprotected sex (I cannot stress enough that you should NOT recreate this, especially with someone in your favorite band!), exhibitionism but not really???

I've wanted to write this for awhile now, so I figured Fictober was a good excuse lol.

Fic below cut!

He couldn’t help but notice her, the pretty girl pressed against the barrier of that night’s venue. Glossy lips that begged to be wrapped around something naughty, skirt so short he wouldn’t even need to take it off. 

Before Wilbur starts to strum out the melody of his next song, he unbuttons his shirt one more button down, tracing a finger down the bare chest visible and drinking in the response. Cheers, screams, whistles, and shouts pour over the stage, but he barely notices. His eyes are on the girl in the front row. 

Her bright eyes widen when they meet his, then she winks, biting her lip. Before Wilbur can react, she tugs down the neckline of her top, an enticing hint of cleavage making his heart beat faster. 

Maybe I’ll have to pay her a visit backstage…

“Hey,” Wilbur says to the nearest security guard the second he steps off stage. “I need you to find someone for me. A girl.”

He calmly adjusts his baseball cap. “What does she look like?”

“Uh, she had long hair, black top, a tiny little miniskirt, and she was at the barrier,” he rushes to explain. “Can you?”

The security guard looks amused. “Can’t make any promises,” he admits, and walks out of the room. Wilbur sighs. 

He grows impatient, though it’s only been minutes since the guard left. He paces across the little backstage room, from the dilapidated sofa, to the far wall, back to the sofa. 

Someone taps lightly on the door.

“Yea?” Wilbur says, trying not to let his annoyance show. “Who is it?”

“Just me, boss.” He recognises the voice of the security guard immediately. “I found her.”

“Come in.”

The girl enters the room, a sly glint in her eye. “Thought the lights made it hard to see the front row.” Her voice is smooth and sultry, absolutely dripping with arousal. 

Wilbur chuckles. “You were the brightest light in the whole venue, darling. How could I not see you?”

She grins, inviting herself to sit next to him on the sofa, hand tracing lazy circles on the leg of his jeans. “Am I wrong in thinking you didn’t invite me back here just to chat?”

“Ooh, you’re perceptive, aren’t you?” Wilbur grins, lightly tracing her jawline with his finger, drinking in the scent of her perfume. “What do you say, love?”

“I wonder if those fingers are just as good when they’re not on a guitar is what I say,” she whispers, barely an inch away from Wilbur’s mouth. He closes the gap between them, tasting the waxy sheen of her lipstick and the bite of cheap vodka, feeling the cool slick of her tongue piercing. 

“Should I worry about the fact you’ve been drinking?” Wilbur murmurs into the softness of her lips as she starts to unbutton his shirt.

She pulls back just enough to wink at him. “Nah. Venues always skimp when they pour vodka sodas. Besides, vodka makes me horny.” 

Wilbur’s shirt’s finally undone, and she almost tears it off him, pulling off her own shirt next. Bare skin gleams in the low backstage lights, but gleaming brighter is-

“Are those nipple piercings?” Wilbur breathes, unable to take his eyes off them.

“Do you like them?” She teases, leaning forward so the cool metal barbells press against his bare chest. “They make me really sensitive.”

“Oh, is that so?” He grins, sinking his teeth into her lower lip and twisting one between his fingers so it’s practically vertical. 

She groans under her breath. “Oh, yes.”

Wilbur’s thumb rubs over the stiff peak of her nipple as she kisses him roughly, slipping a hand between their bodies and unzipping his fly.

“Can I suck you off?” She asks, running the tip of her tongue around her lips. “I give really good blowjobs.”

“Aww, well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose,” Wilbur says, trying to cover up how desperate he is to feel her lips wrapped around him. “Go on, darling, show me just how good you are.”

She slides onto the floor, smirking up at him. “You know, I don’t exactly have a gag reflex.”

“Maybe I should test that out,” he muses, finger on his chin, pretending to think as she pulls his cock out of his jeans. 

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” Wilbur says silkily, pleased when she immediately obliges. “There’s a good girl.”

His hand gathers her hair into a ponytail, bitter sticky precum dripping all over her ruined lipstick as she takes him in her mouth. Wilbur’s never been with anyone with a tongue piercing, and the contrast between soft warmth and cool metal is otherworldly. 

She starts bobbing her head up and down, managing to fit his entire length in her mouth almost effortlessly. The rounded end of the barbell slides up and down the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft as she sucks him off like her life depends on it. 

“Fuck, that’s good, princess,” Wilbur sighs, gently caressing her cheek as he starts to move with her, thrusting deeper and deeper. “So good.”

He’s practically using her throat as a fleshlight, toes curling as the piercing rubs up and down with each motion. Spit drips down her chest and onto her tits, but she barely seemes to notice. 

Just as the threatening climax threatens to overwhelm him, Wilbur pulls out of her mouth, and they’re both silent for a moment, trying to catch their breath. 

Before he can say anything else to the girl kneeling on the floor in front of him, she teasingly lifts up her skirt, revealing her lack of panties. Her fingers teasingly stroke her drenched clit, sticky arousal gleaming around her pussy. Another bead of precum drops down Wilbur’s aching cock. 

“Mmm, you’ve made me so wet,” she moans out, slipping two fingers inside herself and pumping them in and out. “This feels so good, but I bet yours would feel even better.”

Wilbur tugs her roughly onto the couch, nudging her legs apart with his knee and yanking her skirt up. She presses her dripping fingers against his parted lips, groaning as he licks them clean. 

“You taste like heaven,” Wilbur whispers, rubbing his cock through her soaked slit, one hand teasing a pierced nipple. “And feel even better.”

“Oh, God,” she moans out, throbbing needily against him. “Need you inside me, please.”

He pretends to think, pinching her nipple so hard she gasps. “Well, since you asked so nicely, darling, I can do that for you.”

Wilbur wastes no time, ripping the crotch of her fishnets almost in half and groaning as he slides inside her. 

“You’re so big,” she sighs. “I’ve never been with someone as big as you.”

“I hope tonight ruins all other dick for you, darling,” he coos, starting to find his rhythm inside her. Her tits bounce with each thrust, Wilbur’s mouth travelling all over her neck and leaving hickies everywhere he can reach. “You’ll be touching yourself while looking at how I marked you up, won’t you?”

She nods, nails digging into his bare back. “And I’ll be pretending it’s you rubbing my clit, too.”

“Good girl,” Wilbur murmurs, snaking a hand between their bodies and slowly circling the slick nub with his finger. “You’ll be thinking about how I feel on top of you, how good it feels to suck me off.”

“I took so many photos of you tonight so I could masturbate to them,” she says slyly.

“Atta girl,” he praises, roughly pulling her into a sloppy kiss. 

As much as he loved dirty talk with the girls he took backstage, he was used to this sort of thing. And while yes, it stroked his ego to know all these girls got off to him, he didn’t have all the time in the world to fuck this pretty stranger. He had maybe half an hour before the tour bus left. 

“I’m so close,” she whines, arching her back and sinking her teeth into her lower lip. 

“Cum with me, baby?” Wilbur asks, and she nods, entire body shaking as her dizzying high approaches. “Moan my name while I make you cum.”

“Will!” She shrieks, tightening around him as she rides out the orgasm, eyes rolled back in her head. “Oh, Will, oh my God.”

His name in her pleasure-soaked voice tips Wilbur over the edge, and he pulls out, shooting sticky white all over her face and tits. Her hand wraps around his cock, stroking it to release every last drop until he winces from overstimulation. 

She licks her lips clean, closing her eyes as if to savor the taste before kissing him. Wilbur’s never been one to shy away from kissing a girl who’s just licked up his cum, as a chef always tastes his own creation, but he had places to be. 

“I have to be back on the bus soon, darling,” Wilbur says apologetically, reaching for a tissue to help her clean her face. 

She pouts. “Do you have to?”

Wilbur kisses her nose. “Yes, and I’m sorry. I’ll never forget you. I’ll be thinking about you.”

The girl stands up, pulling her shirt back on and adjusting her skirt back into place. Wilbur drapes his discarded buttondown shirt around her shoulders, knowing it’s a gesture that’ll mean the world to her, bring back the memories of their hookup.

He kisses her goodbye at the stage door, signalling to one of the security guards to walk her out. Wilbur never learned her name, nor got a phone number or Instagram handle. Why would he bother? There will be another girl at tomorrow’s show, and another after that.

[bones4thecats]

What If They Had A Family? - Hazbin Hotel (PT.2)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: What If They Had A Family? (PT.2) Characters: Alastor (LINK), Adam, St. Peter, and Lucifer Morningstar Idea-Giver: Random Ideas

A/N: The readers here are all female besides in Alastor's, which I themed gender-neutral. You can tell who my favorite here is lol

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Swearing and Death ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

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Link to Alastor Post:

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

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Angel-Third-Wife! Reader ; Red-and-Green Macaw

🎸 Adam has lost his first two wives to the same exact man. I mean for crying out loud, this guy needs a break

🎸 When Adam had first met you, he was very weary at first. Every single other wife of his had run off with the same god-forsaken guy, so do you really blame him for his distrust?

🎸 It took a little while, but the first man did take notice at how you gave him the time to get used to you and trust you, and while you didn’t know it, he warmed up to you really fast when you had cleaned his guitar off and handed it to him while requesting a song

" Let me guess, you want one of the best fuckin’ musicians in history to sing for ya’? You’ve got good taste, love. "

🎸 He absolutely adores you, and when you had finally sealed the deal, he loved talking about having children. He did have two, but they didn’t exactly end well…

🎸 You just smiled and spoke with him deeply, making sure he understood what he really wanted, you didn’t want him regretting his actions or getting in over his head when you did eventually get pregnant

🎸 When your baby girl, which you named Harmonia, came into Heaven, Adam was beyond happy. He planned on spoiling your child until his final breath

🎸 She had caught yours and his wing patterns, so they were large much like her fathers and were blue with Adam’s signature light yellow stripe. And he would swear every time she flapped her wings, she would give him another heart attack. His baby girl was growing up so fast!

🎸 Now, to the real juicy stuff

🎸 Adam is very provocative, so there is no doubt that one of your daughter’s first words is a swear, most likely the f-word

" You mother- " " Fucker! " " That's my girl! I’m so proud of you! " " Adam! " " What? She spoke! Swearing or not, still a word, toots. "

🎸 You’re gonna get a headache from their actions. Thank god Lute is right alongside you whenever Adam brings his baby to work with the excuse that he’d miss her

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Angel! Reader ; Bombus Auricomus (Kind of Bumblebee)

📑 St. Peter and you had a mutual understanding, children was something you wanted to handle later on

📑 When you did eventually bring the conversation back up, St. Peter just smiled and held your hands in his as he said he had a surprise for you that he thought you’d enjoy

📑 As he covered you eye with a bandanna, your husband brought you down your home’s hallway and opened and door before you heard his wings flap nervously and he tore the fabric away from your eyes

📑 Your eyes widened as you looked at the small nursery, it was colored a pastel yellow with tiny pastel flowers along the bottom and tiny things of honeycomb with bees flying around. And right above the crib was a tiny cot mobile themed with books and bees

" Oh my god… it’s- it’s perfect, my dear. Thank you so much… "

📑 When you and St. Peter talked a bit more on the topic, you guys did eventually conceive a baby, one that you would later identify as your baby boy

📑 Your time in childbirth was magical for St. Peter, as he was nervously pacing and screaming as you practically squashed his hand in your grip. How were you not a warrior angel?!

📑 He no doubt passed out during the ordeal

📑 He had awoken in the chair next to your bed with a glass of water and a couple pills next to the glass. But he ignored it and looked over at you, who was asleep and holding your baby boy

📑 When you awoke, St. Peter pledged the name Favus, which in Latin meant Honeycomb. And when you looked at your son’s tiny light yellow bee wings, you smiled and kissed your husband’s cheek, saying it was perfect

📑 Your husband and son bond so much as he ages. While St. Peter is normally busy with things at Heaven’s Gates, he always takes time to be around his family

📑 He adores to teach your son how to sing. Singing is something that he is spectacular at, so he would love it if his son bonded with him on that

📑 And when his first word came out? No doubt he passed out once more

" D- Dada! " " Did you just- holy saints… you just said… " *faints* " Peter! "

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Fallen-Angel! Reader ; Bee Hummingbird

🍎 Lucifer is slightly hesitant when it comes to having any more children. He didn’t want to have a bad relationship with them like how he used to with Charlie, even though it was far better now

🍎 While you were understanding at first, you were growing self-conscious, did he just not want kids with you?

🍎 Once Charlie brought the topic up to her father, the King of Hell just broke down, he was ruining another relationship?! You surely wanted to leave him just like Lilith did all those years ago…

🍎 Charlie just sighed and gave her dad a piece of paper, one with many ideas that could possible help him. But he only looked for a couple seconds before getting the best idea he’s ever had, besides fixing his bond with Charlie and being with you, of course

🍎 Lucifer had brought you out to a small and untouched field just outside of Pentagram City and handed you a bouquet full of bleeding heart flowers, cardinal flowers, fireweed, and trumpet honeysuckles

" My Queen, I just wanted to come somewhere secluded to speak about the possibilities of a family between us. I really want us to move onto the next chapter of our lives, and I’m sure that Charlie would like for us to as well. " " Really? " " Of course. I love you more than anything else in existence, both mine in Heaven and in Hell. There is nobody else I would do this with than you. " " And Lilith. " " I'm going to ignore that comment… "

🍎 Charlie and the rest of the Hotel were beyond happy for you guys when it was announced you were having your first born son, hell, even Alastor hugged you and handed you a small deer leather slippers, he even made sure they were extra soft for you

🍎 Lucifer just hugged you from behind as Charlie pulled everyone into a group hug, crying about how happy she was to have a baby brother coming into Hell, and she said she couldn’t wait to see how adorable he looked

🍎 When your son did finally come out and looked into his father and mother’s eyes, you guys knew how right Charlie was. He was beyond cute

🍎 His tiny yellow and red eyes, red cheeks, and yellow-tinted ‘hair’ that he inherited from his father while tiny fluttering wings, a slightly long tail similar to the Goetia family’s, and a small beak with feathers for hair that came from you just made him so sweet looking, as if he belonged in Heaven with the rest of the Morningstar family

" What should we name him, Lu’? " " Hm, how about Anaticula? It means duckling in Latin. " " Perfect… our little humming-duckling. "

🍎 As Anaticula aged, it was apparent how much like his father he was. He was very silly and talented despite his immense power from his fallen-angel parents

🍎 By the way, his first words are most likely something related to redemption or ducks, since Charlie and Lucifer ramble about the two topic quite often

" It’s just, the redemption was proven to work with Pentious. That means Heaven may rethink their choice! " " Redeemed ducky? " " Did he just…? " " My baby boy just said his first words! Oh, how splendid. Charlie! Call Y/N, she must hear this immediately! "

🍎 He loves to brag about his son in front of Alastor as well, he may now have a baby and new wife to care for at home, but your husband just has to rub this into that Radio Demon’s snout!

[corroded-hellfire]

found this and immediately thought of 45+ yo girldad!rockstar!eddie who has to deal with this in conjunction with being on tour so his concert is interrupted by his little girl singing a heavy metal cover of do you want to build a snowman to a crowd of rowdy old rockers who go absolutely apeshit for it, mom!reader being backstage laughing her ass off but also just so proud yk

I’m not sure if you meant this as a request or not, but I absolutely needed to write it lol. Please enjoy some rockstar and dad!eddie 💖

Words: 1.1k

Concerts are loud. Metal concerts are even louder. Standing backstage, your three-year-old daughter in your arms, you're jealous of the giant pink headphones she’s wearing over her dark spiral curls. It’s become a regular occurrence for you to tease your husband that he’s going to need a hearing aid even sooner than you thought. He just grumbles a response about how you weren’t calling him old in bed last night. 

Little Elena bobs up and down in your arms, staring out at her daddy from where you two are on the side of the stage. It’s almost the end of Corroded Coffin’s set, so Eddie is dripping sweat as his voice soars through the speakers and his guitar notes ring throughout the whole venue. Most nights Elena would be back in the tour bus or hotel room, Jeff’s teenage daughter looking after her until you and Eddie got back after the show. Tonight, Jeff’s daughter had a date so you and Eddie decided she could stay up late to watch her daddy do his thing on stage. 

“Daddy!” she keeps shouting in between songs, her little hands slapping together as she applauds. Eddie can’t hear her, but he looks back at her every once in a while, and gives her a wink. Elena giggles whenever she catches her daddy’s eye, always a daddy’s girl. 

“This next song, uh,” Eddie starts as he adjusts the strap of his guitar. 

“Daddy!” Elena’s squeal was timed perfectly with Eddie’s pause. He can hear her shrill call and chuckles to himself. 

“Okay, hold on. Hold on. Before we play our next song, there’s someone I’d like you to say hello to.” Eddie nods for a stagehand to come over and he hands his guitar to the younger guy. The crowd is murmuring and rumbling, wondering what Eddie is up to now. Over his decades performing for crowds, Eddie Munson was known for pulling wild stunts like doing trick jumps off of amps or mooning the audience. Once he turned forty though, the antics began to calm. Then when he met you, he toned it down even more. Of course, the gossip magazines tried to blame you, saying that the rock star’s new young girlfriend is trying to control and tame him, when in reality, Eddie decided to be cautious because he wanted to be there for you and spend his life with you. Since Elena was born, Eddie hadn’t pulled one dangerous stunt. 

Now, your husband approaches you, eyes lit up in glee as your daughter makes grabby hands for him. He gladly scoops her into his arms and presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Wanna say hi to the crowd, baby?” Eddie asks your daughter. She can’t quite hear what he’s saying because of the headphones, but she gets what he means by his gestures. A sheepish smile comes over her face, but she nods her head. “What about you, gorgeous?”

Your eyes widen when Eddie looks at you questioningly. “No, no! God, no.”

Eddie laughs and presses another kiss to your lips before bringing Elena out to center stage. The crowd is full of awes and laughter as your husband stands with the tiny girl in front of the microphone.

“I’d like to introduce my daughter, little Elena Munson. You wanna say hi, princess?” 

Her large brown eyes take in the crowd in front of her before she hides her face in her father’s sweaty neck, her own dark curls blending in with his. Eddie chuckles along with the crowd and he rubs his hand up and down her tiny back. When the audience begins to cheer, she peeks her face out from the curtain of brown curls and a smile spreads over her mouth, identical to her dad’s.

“Right here in the microphone,” Eddie tells her, pointing for emphasis. “Just say hi.”

Slowly, Elena leans in and from the side of the stage, you hold your breath as you prepare for her high-pitched toddler voice to boom out of the speakers. 

“Do you wanna build a snow maaaaan? C’mon let's go and plaaaaay!” 

The metal concert goers go crazy, cheering and screaming for the little girl’s singing. She’s only encouraged by their reaction, her grin growing as she becomes more confident. 

“I never see you anymo! Come out the door! S’like you’ve gone awaaay!”

Eddie is partly exasperated at hearing the song for the upteenth time this week but is mostly filled with complete adoration as he watches his mini-me be an absolute ham for the audience. 

“We use ta be best buddies! But now we not. I wish you would tell me whyyyyy!”

Eddie looks over his shoulder to where you’re standing on the side of the stage. You’re laughing so hard that your stomach is cramping, and tears are rolling down your face. It never ceases to amaze you just how like your rock star husband Elena is. At seeing how much you’re enjoying this, Eddie’s joy only grows. In all his time as a performer, he thinks this might just be his favorite moment on stage.

“D’ya wanna build a snowmaaaan? It doesn’t have to be a snowman!”

Eddie leans in towards the microphone, raising his voice a few octaves to match the fictional princess.

“Go away, Anna!”

Elena giggles and squirms happily in her father’s arms, clearly delighted he’s playing along with her.”

“Otay, byyyye!”

“Elena Munson, ladies and gentlemen!” Eddie says. The crowd is deafening as they applaud the Disney song sung by the curly haired toddler. Eddie shows her how to bow, which she copies to the best of her abilities while in his arms. 

Pressing kisses all over her face, Eddie brings Elena back over to you. His scruff scratches her face, and she squeals, trying to push him away.

“Let me give you kisses, baby girl!”

“Too rough!” Elena shouts.

She’s clearly pleased with her singing performance as you grab your daughter and squeeze her to your chest. 

“You did so good, sweetie!” When you press kisses to her face, she doesn’t protest like she did for Eddie. “Mommy’s got two rock stars in the family, huh?” 

“Ya!”

“I’ll see my girls after the last few songs. Kisses?”

You don’t hesitate to press your lips to his, but Elena looks skeptical. 

“Rough,” she says.

“I’ll be gentle!” Eddie assures her. She nods and Eddie offers his cheek to her. 

“Mwah!” Elena smacks a kiss to his cheek. Eddie grins and tugs on one of her spiral curls before running back out on stage and taking his guitar back from the stagehand.

“You have a lovely voice,” you tell Elena.

“I know,” she says simply, making you laugh.

Yeah, she’s just like her dad. 

[heartfeltcherie]

heyy!! can i request literally anything with steve harrington x munson!reader?? i EAT that crap up. tysm! 🫶

ok so i didn’t exactly write a munson type reader but i tried to make her Like eddie if that makes sense??? also this is my first piece of writing in so long so if it’s terrible just ignore that. and also ignore the ending lol

the bedside lamp on your nightstand casts a gentle glow around your bedroom. baggy jeans that have black stars on them and a striped maroon and black shirt adorn your body as you sit crisscrossed on the floor, guitar in your lap as you pluck a few notes that you’ve recently learned.

you can feel your wrists cramping and dents beginning to form in the pads of your fingers, but you’re determined to get these chords right and have them stuck in your memory like a favourite song.

there’s a knock on your bedroom door.

“come in”

the doorknob twists and opens with a squeak. you look up and to your pleasant surprise, are met with the most beautiful pair of brown eyes.

“hi” you say with a soft smile that matches the twinkling in your eyes whenever you see steve. he reciprocates. “your dad let me in. he’s a nice guy” he says, leaning his body against the doorframe, boyish hands resting in his jeans pocket shyly. “and i couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you again” you blush at his words, the freckles on your face becoming more prominent. “you saw me earlier today”

“yeah, too long ago”

he makes his way into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him. he sits down next to you, crisscrossed with his knee resting on your leg and suddenly you feel a million, tiny butterfly wings doing their thing inside your tummy. you can smell his cologne — it’s something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it’s your own little heaven when he’s so close to you like this. intoxicating.

“you really like that guitar, huh?” steve gestures to the beautiful, all black guitar that came with a red strap to go around your neck. “i love this guitar so much,” you begin to go off on one of your little rambles. but steve doesn’t mind; he loves hearing you talk about things that your heart desires. paying attention to all the infinitesimal details. “i still can’t believe that all i told eddie was that i wanted to start learning how to play guitar, and the next think y’know, he’s giving me one of his old guitars. i almost didn’t accept because i know how much he loves his guitars but he insisted” you giggle the last part out.

“does this mean you’re gonna right a song about me sometime?” steve playfully — gently — pokes your side in a teasing manner.

it goes quiet for a moment. not an awkward silence, but one that makes you feel comfortable. you look up from your instrument only to already be met with a pair of brown doe eyes that easily put you in a trance and make your heart feel like ooey gooey goodness. steve is looking at you like you’re saturn and have tiny stars and constellations surrounding your presence. which in his case, you do. you’d always be his shining star whether you’re on stage or sitting in his lap.

“i-i was, uhm… i was already planning on it…” you stutter out, which makes steve giggle over the effect he has on you — but you don’t miss the small amount of pinkness that takes over his cheeks. god, you love his freckles and moles…. and his hair… you really wanna sit in his lap and kiss him right now. “is that so, sweetheart?” he’s bringing one hand up to move some hair behind your ear, lovingly cupping your cheek afterwards and his hand placement, god it’s so soft and warm. you only nod, nervous that a small squeak would come out instead of words.

“m-maybe… maybe i need a bit of inspiration” you mutter out slowly. “well, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i deprived you of such a thing, hm?” and he leans in and closes the small distance between you two.

his saturn, his star.

tagging some people who might be interested in this @ghostlyfleur @sunshinesteviee @forevermoreharrington

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑏𝑜𝑟

A/N: My ass couldn't wait to publish this work even though I wanted to wait a few days but the feedback was amazing... So HERE IS YOUR MEAL GALS!

Taglist: @lol-im-done @lu002 @keepingitlokiii

Series Masterlist

It had been a long day of studying and working for you, being able to return back home in the middle of the night, very later than you normally came, and there was nothing more you wanted than sleeping the rest of the night away. Getting to hear your teachers in college scold everyone and anything, while thinking of a way to reach your work place on time and planning what to cook for your sisters...

Life was hard, but yours was more like a death penalty.

Thankfully, the Adlers from the next house was kind enough to let you, more like make you, leave them in their care while you went to college and then work, helping in any way they can. You felt bad for the elder woman, thinking that you were being a liability when she hit your head hard, saying that your sisters alongside with her grandchildren lifted her energy up.

And now, even though you were tired and ready to explode on someone, you knew that your sisters needed their older sister more. “Hey, you said you didn’t understand something about your homeworks, right? Let me help you while we eat some junk food, okay?”

The happy squeals they let out made you coo after them sweetly, getting to the kitchen to prepare a hot drink and some chips and dried fruits. You were at ease knowing that what they were about to bring wouldn’t be so bad...

They were 11 year-olds in middle school, how bad could it be?            

“You guys see this in school?! That was in my highschool!”

“Yeah, sis we told you! We complained the stupidity of the government but you said it couldn’t be that bad!” you grumbled under your breath, not really having something to say to that while erasing what you had written.

“Okay, smart ass, I was wrong! Now, here is an easy way to solv-“

All three of you winced when an ear-piercing baby crying was heard from the next door house, you looking at the door with an agitated look. Breathing through your nose, you dropped the pen and gripped your hairs thightly, hoping that the voice would cut and the silence of the night would engulf the peaceful street...

But it was only for a brief second when a louder one reached the every house around.

“I think they’re having troubles with the baby...”

“Yeah, heard some of the ladies’ pitying eyes and talk of how they had to raise a newborn baby alone...” your sisters mumbled between each other, looking at the door worriedly and you raised a brow curiously at seeing a clear worry on their faces. For the most part, you were aware that you didn’t have the chance to meet with your neighbors except Miss Adlers and you swore you weren’t all that interested in whoever there was in the house next to yours but...

“What do you mean? Do you eavesdrop now?”

“No, we swear we don’t! But you know we’re tiny,”

“And we’re mostly thought to be stupid that we can’t understand adult talks... Which makes bringing tea easier.” They laughed in delight and high-fived, proud of themselves for outsmarting you while your eyes welled with slight tears.

When did they grow up so much?

“Okay, you little gossippers. Now tell me what you know too.”

“Ohhh~ Are you interested in the young dad next door?”

You flushed at her teasing smirk and pushed her away from your face to grab a jacket to see if there was anything you could help with the baby while listening to the cocky siblings you had. “Well, his name is Joel Miller, 20 year old male living with his brother who likes to get in jail. Married for a short amount of times but the mother left them, reason: unknown. He likes to play guitar, has the cow eyes and as the ladies call ‘is a sight for sore eyes’.”

You looked at her confused, and horrified, since they knew -possibly- everything about a human being that someone could know, while laying on the ground and posing, looking at their nails as if it was the strangest thing in the world. “Ho-How do you know all of these?!” you exclaimed angrily while getting the keys and walking up to the door, trying not to feel ashamed at learning such things about a man you didn’t even know up until just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t forget to tell Tommy that using a baby to lure women to himself is lame!”

“And we learnt them all because people in this street are noisy!” they waved you out while relaxing on the couch, and you shivered at the chill night breeze. These were the last things you heard before you threw yourself out, swearing to never let the others gossip with them in the same room. All the things they said was interesting, a man being left with a kid when it was usually the other way around nowadays. You were impressed that he was a hands-on father, trying his best while he probably didn’t know a thing about looking after a baby by the increasing wailing of the baby.

You let out an angry scowl at the irritating high-pitched cry, ready to just bang the door for ruining the silence you needed so badly after hours of working and that was what you were about to do before a thought crossed your mind, which made you frown to yourself in disappointment.

That was the same reaction you got when you were a young kid, taking care of your little siblings when your parents were off working, not caring much about their children.                                        

You also felt helpless as they screamed their hearts out, trying and failing to understand what was wrong with them or what they needed. How you felt angry, irritated tears came to your eyes, how you felt ashamed at the many stares you got as if you were the one who was supposed to care for little babies as if you birthed them...

You wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Knocking on the door with a soft sigh, you heard a panicked shit coming from inside and came a black haired man who looked very much so miserable with sweat running down his forehead, He wasn’t able to look at you throughly because of the worry that they were irritating people and he imediately started spit apologies. “I’m sorry for causing so much discomfort, I swear we are-“

“Hey,hey,hey! It’s okay, I’m not here to complain like an old woman...” he sighed in relief and slumped over the door, your heart breaking for their obvious misery while you held the tired and exhausted man up by his shoulders when probably-no scratch that- the most handsome and cute guy you had ever seen in your goddamn life came in your view with a cute, yet wailing, baby in his arms.

“Tommy, I swear if it’s another woman when I’m dying over here-“ Joel’s cursing was cut in the middle when he saw a woman he usually saw coming and getting out of the house next door at ungodly hours. Many times, he wanted to meet you, and many times he failed in that.

Not because he was nervous, but his life was breaking apart with the responsibility of the fatherhood.

He loved his daughter, his precious Sarah, but right now he really felt useless while his baby was still crying in his embrace, face now red like a tomato and discomfort written all over her face. He felt a tear run down his cheek, overwhelmed by the cries and hastily wiped it so that you wouldn’t see…

And maybe it was because of the “mother senses” you got through years of taking care of your sisters but that little baby’s squishable face made you coo at her sweetly. And, like a miracle, she stopped crying for a second and rather sniffled when her eyes turned to you.

Leaving both men in shock.

“How the- Are you a baby whisperer or something?!” yelled Tommy in excitement, the loud voice causing Sarah to start crying again and ending up with you slapping his chest while Joel bounced the little girl, hoping it would bring comfort to her. Though it seemed that her uncle being hit in front of her was enough to make Sarah stop once again.

“Stop screaming, dumbass! Baby ears are sensitive!” you whisper yelled, Joel snorting amusedly at his brother’s misery when a voice he never liked- the voice of a woman who always thought he knew the best- reached the three of you, causing you to turn sharply and look around the corner of the still-open door with flaming eyes.

“Oh God, young people and them making babies at such young ages when they can barely take care of themselves... That’s why we can’t live in peace-“

“Maybe, the reason why you can’t bear the cries of a baby- when that’s the most natural thing- is because of your old fruitlets, you bonker!” you yelled over the door, angry at witnessing yet another “Karen” when the said woman got embrassed, a few other people looking out and having sympathetic eyes turned to you three, and got inside her house, probably cursing at you but you didn’t care.

They weren’t the ones trying to be best here.

It really was nothing, in your eyes. People always loved to judge a mother/father, always ready to act like they were born with the ways of taking care of a baby, and even going as far as humilating the parent by telling them they couldn’t take care of their own baby.

And you couldn’t stop them all maybe, but you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit in your presence.

And as someone who wasn’t used to having the kindness of people, real kindness, Joel was left amazed at how quick you were to defend them and how you defended them as if they were your family.

Maybe, you weren’t that bad and even came here with worry obviously.

But seeing your doe eyes turning to his hazel, tired ones with the softest look given to him and then the baby in his embrace... He thought he could trust someone again.

“I know that as her dad, you would be the best one to know her but... By the looks of you two, she is giving you a hard time and everyone needs some help at one point... So, would you like me to help?”

And the answer to that innocent question was one that would change everything for everyone at that moment.

And little Sarah, without knowing, brought two people that would care for each other and her the most by choosing to be calm and cute in your presence.

“I wouldn’ wanna make you uncomfortable-“

“Nonsense, I think this little lady over here,” you brought a finger close to her tummy and slightly tickled her, causing her to erupt in giggles which made the man holding her look at you as if you were the center of his world while the girl took a hold of your hand to chew. “Had already chosen me to be here... I swear I’m not some dangerous woman, only one that wants to help.”

And when Joel let you inside with a relaxed sigh after hours of crying, Tommy saw that his brother smiled for the first time over a year.

“I swear you are a baby whisperer, how did you manage to calm her down and then manage to play with her?” you laughed at the astonished looks the two brothers were giving you, sitting on the ground with Sarah over your lap, rubbing her back to get the gas out of her while she laid against you like a sack of patato with a happy smile over her chubby face.

“No, I’m not. I’m just someone who had to take care of two babies.” They both grimaced softly, impressed that you took care of two when they were barely able to take care of one. Joel watched you slowly pat the soft curls on his daughter’s head with a serene look, as if that was what you were born to do. He looked at the happy smile on her lips, how thight she was holding onto you as if you’d disappear when she bit and cried bloody murder whenever a woman would come close to him and her. It was almost like she felt their bad aura, trying to protect her dad from them even when she was a tiny baby but the same gremlin-like kid was now a putty, sleeping on you like an angel.

He wondered what was different with you, that made you kind enough and brave enough to come and help two men in the middle of the night...

He wondered what it was that different with you from the woman he once called his wife, that made it so easy for you to stay for her.

He came back from his dreaming when Tommy sat next to you to watch you softly caress Sarah’s little back, noting how you did to ease her, chuckling when her cheeks and lips squished together on your shoulder while she started to sleep peacefully. “I think we’re good for the rest of the night...”

“Hmm, can’t believe a baby could be that sweet yet also scaring... She’s a sweetheart though.” Joel smiled at you kindly when your eyes found his and he got up to take the baby from you, your hands slowly finding her armpits to raise her off of your chest to not wake her...

Which failed when she started to whimper at the loss of warmth.

“Oh, someone chose her favourite person, it seems~” Tommy whistled at you two, making you flush under Joel’s intense look while your heart beated hard under your clothes at how Sarah was just so comfortable with you. Most of the times, it would be like this. Just a few minutes in their presence, and they would slither close to you.

I guess this is God’s way of telling me I should become a mother but...

After much working, and failing, you looked at Joel for help when he smiled to you and pointed to her crib across the bedroom, eyes softly looking at the image of you holding Sarah. “You can put her in her crib, if you wan’ it. It’s fine...”

You nodded at his words, getting up with the help of Tommy and going to the crib and lowering your upper body to lay the girl softly on her bed and giving her a plushie to hug. For a few seconds, you just stood there, absentmindedly caressing her cheeks while you watched her sleep. For some strange reasons, you couldn’t leave her. It felt strange, how she suddenly took a hold of your heart and you already loved her when she grabbed your finger.

If you only knew how important she would become to you.

While you were deep in your thoughts, Joel stood at the door when you didn’t come back after 5 minutes, worried that something happened but was pleasantly surprised at seeing you so soft with Sarah, leaning over with his hands crossed on his chest and watched with love-filled eyes at his daughter’s happiness. It had been a hard day for him, with both working and looking after his daughter. It had been a while that all three of them were that happy and peaceful and to think that it was all thanks to the magical touch of a woman next door...

He thought you would be a good mother one day, watching how you interacted with a baby that had nothing to do with you and how loving you were to your sisters even if they annoyed you.

It’s a family thing I guess, he thought sadly. Why couldn’t I get that? Haven’t I already given enough..?

“I'm sorry I made you leave your kids alone, you can go if you want...” he said after pulling himself together, with a shy look at you when he saw the moonlight light up your tired features. You were surprised at hearing his voice so suddenly, even if that was his house, and you realized that he had talked to you and waited for you to say something while smirking amused at your startled face.

“ Wait, wait... Ah, they’re not my kids. I know it seems like that, with those two being glued to my legs, and they could be considered I guess since I’ve been taking care of them my whole life but... They’re my sisters.” You explained, rambling hurriedly, watching the shock on his face at the revelation and you chuckled at the cute look he had before getting out of the room, checking Sarah if everything was fine with her one least time when he spoke hurriedly after you, trying to apologize while thinking he had offended you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“ he held his neck awkwardly, not knowing how to act before a woman after a year of living isolated. Seeing him trully sorry, thinking you were offended, you gave a genuine smile to him and took a hold of his arm, rubbing it softly and Joel understood why Sarah became a jello under your embrace.

If that same feeling were to engulf him too, he would also slump against you.

“Calm down... Joel, right? It’s okay, it’s mostly the look I get whenever I explain it. I’m used to it by now and to be honest you were the most normal reaction I ever got.” He sighed in relief and looked at you as if there was something he wanted to say, and for the most part he did.

He really wanted to talk to you, have you a bit longer here so that he could experience the comfort and light you emitted.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe? For the help you have given us?” he mumbled anxiously, palms sweating tons when you stopped mid-action, jacket still in your hands and you gave a small smile to him. You really wanted to, it has been a long time since you relaxed after all. It wasn’t every day that you had a guy offering something, and though it wasn’t a date...

You wanted to consider some sort of that.

“I would like it very much, if that’s not a problem?” you dropped the jacket and sat down while he gave you a small smile before disappearing in the kitchen.

“Never, wait here and get comfy.” Joel immediately set off to impress you, the instinct to do so being foreign to him, It wasn’t like you were his girlfriend, or someone he dated or cared, this was the first time he saw you but it almost felt like he knew you for a long time.

As if you two spent your lives together. And though he didn’t ask for your favourite coffee, a gut feeling in him somehow told him to go with it and bring the coffee to you with shaky hands.

You who had been looking at the many pictures on the wall silently, with a soft smile. Upon seeing him and his shaky smile, you took the cup from him thankfully and your mouth went dry when your fingers touched each other, twitching to hold onto more. You thought he would maket he coffee as he wanted, not really knowing how you liked the hot drink since he didn’t ask you.

But accepting that drink was the best decision you have ever made. This, this masterpiece of a coffee was the best one you ever had. ”You are a God-sent, Joel. This is the best coffee I’ve ever drank!” he chuckled at your enthusiatic voice, butterflies erupting in him after a long time, making a flustered smile sit on his handsome face when he plopped down next to you, but still putting some space just in case.

“I’m glad, you seemed like you needed that.”

“Oh, yeah. Taking care of two rascals while studying and working is hard really.”

“You go to college? What do you study?” he straightened up slightly and leaned over, trully excited and curious of what you do. And though you normally wouldn’t do this, you trusted him and his stupid, flustered smile.

“Psychology, and though it’s what I always wanted to do... It’s a pain in my ass.” You responded with an equally happy smile, Joel returning it enthusiasticly, wanting to learn more about what you learn since he never got to go college.

And though you were tired before coming here, both he and Sarah had that strange way to make you energetic and alive that you two now standing before each other whole you explained one of the theories you learnt today. And maybe, Joel didn’t understand a thing but seeing you so happy to talk to him out of everyone made him realize that he’s also a 20 year old just like you.

And that Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs was an interesting one.            

And it was also interesting to you... which made you trip over a toy mid-explaining, ready to humilate yourself in front a guy...

Good thing, it didn’t happen... Bad thing? You were nose to nose with a guy you had just met with blown eyes.

Joel reacted fast, knowing how much those toys hurted, and leaped up to hold your waist to stop you from falling that essentially ended with you two nose to nose, his arms holding onto your waist thight while your hand bunched the shirt he wore, the scene looking as if it was out of a romance movie.

You both blushed, hollow breaths leaving your mouths harshly and you could smell the cologne he wore, how his arms felt like holding onto you, holding you to his chest. You got lost in the hazel of his eyes, feeling the same pull you did when you were looking at Sarah...

As if you had been waiting for them.

In the middle of your internal freaking out, Joel, unknown to you, also felt the same pull. He couldn’t lie, even when he was with Sarah’s mother, he never felt trully whole. As if he had found his true happiness...

As if he found a reason.

And looking at you, all kind and soft, helping and everything good, Joel couldn’t stay as a stranger to the beating of his heart. He got lost in your eyes, wondering what it would be like to hang out with you more...

You were definetly a beauty. A beauty that wouldn���t look for a man with a kid.

But your eyes almost invited him in, lips plush and waiting while he felt your fingers slowly caress his cheek. Was that how heaven felt-

“Sis, come here! She is finally getting a guy!”

“Damn, I didn’t think It would be that fast!”

You both widened your eyes and looked at the window, only to see your two sisters in front of their open windows, eating some chips while watching you two as if it was the most interesting thing for them.

You immediately pulled away from Joel, both sides missing the other’s warmth and scent, and ran to the open window to yell at them angrily while your cheeks felt hot even with the chill air.

For both ruining the moment, and also still being awake.

“What are you two bugs doing awake at this hour? You two have school tomorrow!” you exclaimed while Joel laughed behind you, the sound of it setting your heart aflame while one of your sisters waved to him, Joel doing the same when two angel-looking kids turned to you with mischievous looks

And it amused Joel so much so that he just leaned his hip to the side and watched you two roast the other.

“We know but just wanted to make sure that we’re still gonna watch that movie before sleeping...”

“ All you think is movies... Yeah, we are gonna watch it.” you looked at them to finally go and sleep, but the more timid one out of the two looked up shyly.

“Can... Can the baby come too? If her dad allows?” your worried eyes turned to Joel, who didn’t expect them to invite him and his daughter. He didn’t have many friends and this time was the first time he interacted with someone more than a few minutes.

And you could see that he liked his peace, by the way how you didn’t realize there were people living next to you.

“You don’t have to accept, if you don’t want to. I’ll talk to them-“ you offered him, not wanting to be here and let your sisters make you feel flustered anymore when a gentle hand caught your wrist to stop you, and gave you the most loving and happy grin he ever did. “We would be happy, as long as the movie is not bad.”

“It’s nothing bad, we swear! We’re gonna watch Barbie the Nutcracker and Barbie as Rapunzel!”

“How the hell can you hear us from there?!” your sister let out a huge laugh at that, while you grumbled under your breath to get out and show them a funny shit, and Joel looked between you two confused, being not well-versed into the many movies you had been watching because of those kids.

“What the hell are those?”

“trust me, you will know them better than your own name when Sarah grows up...” you groaned even more when he chuckled and the most breathtaking smile overtook his face, which made you smile even brighter and let out a shy chuckle.

But obviously, it was a disgusting sight for the eleven years olds.

“It ain’t my fault you don’t know the legendary movie of the century sir, seriously I don’t wanna be an adult... Anyways we’re goin’ sleeping!” they groaned at the love-sick smiles you two were giving to each other, silently betting when you would get together with him.

“You better, kids. I’m not taking your asses out that bed tomorrow!” and that was their final warning before they scurried of to their beds which made you sigh and dart out of the door,remembering all the things you had to write.

But you didn’t forget to turn back and give Joel a thumbs up. “The movie night starts at 8 p.m tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you.”

And only thing Joel could do, was to make a thumbs up back, and even when he laid down on the bed next to his daughter’s crib, he couldn’t stop the excited beating of his heart. He turned to look at her sweet face with a hand over his heart and chuckled into the deep silence of the night.

“You showed off your picking the right person talents huh, kid?”

[crushribbons]

𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗

summary: Ben Mears is new in town and just trying to work on his latest novel.

cw: 3.3k words, some fun flirty fluff, light smut (18+), dry humping, allusions to actual sex lol, i researched one '70's thing and got tired, fem!reader/oc.

a/n: they bred this boy in a lab to make me need to chew drywall. HAPPY HALLOWEEN MY CHICKIES!! have a fun and safe night!! 👻 xx laney

The record spun tirelessly around the turntable, echoes bouncing off the cavernous library ceilings.

“Mmmm…” Donovan hummed. The guitar cushioning his voice strummed in full force. “Must be the season of the witch…”

“Is it, now?” the night librarian asked, one eyebrow cocked. She reached around the man hunched at the microfilm machine and picked up the dust-laden books he’d already cast aside. He glanced up at her, surprised.

Pulling the thick reading glasses from his nose and rubbing the bridge, he apologized. “I didn’t know anyone was still here! Mabel–Ms. Wertz–said I had the place to myself this evening.” The man stood and crossed to the tiny travel case turntable he’d brought with him, making to remove the needle from the vinyl, but she held up a hand.

“Oh, no, don’t stop it on my account. It’s nice to have something filling up this spooky old place, for once.” She watched the man smile and settle back down at the reading room desk. He was tall and lean, well-dressed, like the men from Boston she saw when she visited her sister at the university. His dark blonde hair fell into curls nearly to his shoulders. 

So this is the Ben Mears that everyone can’t stop talking about.

He affirmed the thought for her. “I’m Ben,” he said, with a small, polite smile. It was several seconds before she realized that he was extending his hand for her to shake, not for her to hand back the books she’d cleared away from him. She took the hand and shook. His palm was a bit dry but still soft.

There was a notebook filled with messy scrawl that she couldn’t read in the quick glance she took next to the microfilm, a pen resting on top that looked like it was trying to catch its breath after its user’s furious scribbling. “You’re the author, right? Mr. Big Time,” she grinned, hoping she was coming off cool and worldly, not just another hometown girl who had never left Jerusalem’s Lot, Maine. Population: about ten.

Ben looked down, bashful. “I don’t know about ‘big time.’ I manage, ma’am.”

“Well, anyone who’s managed to leave this town is big time to us, sir.” Ben smiled again, and she decided it was more wistful than anything. The tight proximity and lack of prying eyes around them emboldened her at the same time it made her nervous.

Things had been…strange ever since this outsider had pulled into town in his fancy gold car. The air was chilling the way it always started to at the beginning of October, but it had a different smell to it than usual. No longer did the scent of candied apples, of hay bales and pumpkins and dry cornstalks float past her on her daily afternoon walk to the library; now, it had an acrid tint, almost sanguine at times. Everyone noticed it. The bloody hue that the sky took on at night, crimson against the bright yellow waxing moon, had mothers instructing their little ones to be off the streets hours before the posted curfew. 

She had conjured up an image of a big, scary stranger in a long black coat, wearing a hat that concealed his face (and mouthful of fangs, perhaps?), based on all the whisperings and gossip that had followed Mears since he arrived. The actual man looked far less threatening.

But no less intriguing, she thought, as she watched him from behind the circulation desk. He returned to his research and his mug of black coffee, the presence of which would have sent Mabel spinning in her grave prematurely. The night librarian said nothing, though. Just watched him leaf slowly through the volumes to his right and peer through his thick lenses at the microfilm that had only been purchased last year and was already spectacularly behind the times. Just like everything else in the Lot.

Two more hours dragged past, during which she pretended to be working. The radiator in the ancient building picked and chose when to turn on and when not to, and it had not deemed this evening significant enough to be a warm one, so her teeth clacked together while she moved some books aimlessly from one shelf to another. She pulled her cardigan tight around her body. The gentle scribbling of Ben’s pen filled the whole space with nothing else to dampen it. He must have been quite a prodigious author, given the speed with which he was writing.

She was just debating telling him that she generally closed up and went home about half an hour earlier when he saved her the trouble. “Hey, I think I’m all set for the night.” Her head shot up from the book she’d read one line of in the past twenty minutes. Ben was standing at the desk in front of her, arms laden with his research.

“Oh, great! Just about ready to shut things down here,” she replied. Ben thanked her for letting him use the facilities after-hours, then he paused for a second, and she felt a cool thrill run from the base of her spine up to her neck as his eyes locked on hers.

He chuckled and looked away. “What’s, uh…so, what’s fun to do around here at night?” he asked, and a wicked little vision snapped across her mind’s eye that she tried to banish as quickly as possible. Ben’s voice was gravelly with disuse and the lateness of the hour. She tried not to imagine what it must sound like in the morning. “I think I need a beer after trudging through all this.”

“Well, Plymouth Rock’s the only bar in town, if you can even call it that,” she sighed.

“Plymouth Rock?” he laughed, eyebrow cocked. “Last time I checked, that was down in Mass.”

She buried her face in her hands in exasperation then looked up at him with a sheepish grin and said, “You know how they love their pilgrim shit around here.” 

Ben’s jaw rolled side to side while he considered something. Nervous tick or absent habit, it wasn’t clear. “You like it there?” 

“I do.” A hopeful wick caught flame in her chest, then was snuffed out just as fast when he nodded and started moving towards the door.

“Well, thanks again. Have a good night, miss.”

The poster taped on the inside of the front library doors as Ben pushed through them said, Come back any time! 

He stayed late the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that, and went on in that way for weeks. Truth be told, she lost count of how many evenings they spent in relative quiet side by side, Ben diligently reading and writing about God knew what while she hummed along to his records and tidied the library beyond recognition (there was nothing else to do; her closing duties usually took her about fifteen minutes). On her days off, she missed the scratch of his pen on paper, and prayed that she might bump into him on the street. 

The moonlight pouring in through the window tonight was the reddest it had been yet. It cast everything in a bizarre bloodbath. Even Ben, sitting at his usual desk with his collar unbuttoned and glasses slid down to the end of his nose, looked a little bit sinister in the colorwash. 

He had brought her a steaming paper cup of apple cider when he had arrived. “Seemed like a good night for it,” he had shrugged as he passed it to her and took a sip from his own. “Oh, and happy Halloween, I guess!” 

She wandered over to him, swirling the dregs of her cider, trying to make it last. Ben glanced up and smiled. “What are we working on tonight?” she inquired and perched on the edge of his desk. He huffed.

“Not sure I know anymore,” he muttered. His eyes were locked on the microfilm, scanning through articles at lightning speed. She hummed in interest and kicked her legs back and forth gently. Ben sat back in his chair and removed his glasses, then rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes with a groan. She tried and failed not to look at the length of him, stretched out before her. He’d worn a soft-looking green plaid flannel shirt and corduroy pants that could have fit less snugly. “Doesn’t a pretty lady like yourself have anything better to do on Halloween night?” he asked, and a stupid blush crept across her nose and cheeks despite her efforts to not react. 

“Nothing so interesting as watching you,” she teased back, and Ben grinned. She had quite gotten over her apprehension towards the stranger. No, he wasn’t a stranger anymore, he was Ben, who had overnight gotten her excited about her podunk little job in this podunk little town, who came to her for any questions he had because he knew that she wouldn’t gossip about it later on. They got on well. Real well.

“About as interesting as watching paint dry,” he said wryly. His eyes ran over his usual mess of books and notepads and pencils on the desk, then drifted over to her legs. She almost missed it, but she couldn’t help feeling a flick of heat as his gaze raked down the brown tights she was wearing. Her skirt had ridden up to the middle of her thighs, and she fought the urge to fiddle with the hem. 

A moment of silence where they both smiled at the ground was broken as she cleared her throat and said, “I read that book you told me to.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhmm.” She nodded proudly. “It was painful, Mears.” 

Ben faked being aghast. “What?! You didn’t like it?”

“You’ve got some pretty dull taste, mister. A guy moaning about his loving wife and perfect life for two-hundred and forty-seven pages?” She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed outright. “Give me Vonnegut and some colorful fucking insanity any day of the week.”

“Never read anything except Slaughterhouse.”

“Well, fix that!”

“Yes, ma’am.” His chin was propped up on one hand as he winked up at her. He loved calling her “miss” or “ma’am”–it drove her crazy, because, as she had told him one night with a swift whack to his head with a stack of newspapers, she wasn’t one of the dowdy old matrons that made up the rest of the library staff. She scolded him once more and he took it with a smile, unphased. 

God, the way he looked at her, sometimes. It was enough to make the head of a much more urbane, cosmopolitan woman spin, let alone a girl who hadn’t dated anyone that she hadn’t also graduated from high school with. She sighed exaggeratedly and continued swinging her legs back and forth, hoping he’d be enticed to glance at them again. “I’ll probably be off soon, but you’re more than welcome to–”

“Oh, no, come on, stay with me,” Ben suddenly pleaded, throwing down the pencil he had just picked up and swiveling his chair to face her. “It’s so nice to have company in this place…it gives me the downright creeps when you’re not here.” Heat rushed through her whole body, lips pressing together to suppress the beam of pleasure she wanted to show him. 

She cocked her head to one side. “How ‘bout we lock up and you buy me a drink and we talk about Vonnegut, instead?”

He balked. “I already bought you a drink,” he reminded her, reaching out to tap the cup still clutched in her hand. She scrunched up her nose at him.

“And it was good, but it didn’t cause me to make any bad decisions, so not quite the type of drink I’m after.” The boldness in her words surprised her even as they were leaving her mouth. She prayed they had sounded casual, non-specific.  

Ben rolled his chair closer still to her, until he was almost between her legs, though they weren’t parted far enough to reveal anything her skirt couldn’t cover. Her back straightened involuntarily. Snatching up his glasses from beside her, he put them back on and regarded her through them. 

“I’m right in the middle of this fucker of a section,” he began, and she snorted at his disdain for his own creation. “Give me half an hour and I’ll gladly close up shop with you.” 

She wanted to say, Ben Mears, what I’d do to give you a half an hour, but she opted for, “Deal. Clock’s ticking, though! We can’t let it hit midnight, or all the spooky ghosties will come and get us.”

“Is that how that works, miss?” The sweet crinkles at the corners of his eyes appeared again with his amused grin. She nodded gravely and he shrugged, turning back to the microfilm and cranking the dial. 

Quiet minutes ticked past, during which she did not move from her position next to him. She picked up books that he had been using and flicked with mild interest through a volume of Maine history, 1782-1800. Very mild interest. After about ten minutes, Ben slammed his hands down on the desk and scared a yelp out of her. 

“Sorry, sorry!” he said through a laugh while she clutched her heart and glared at him. “I can’t do any more. My brain is melting into something unrecognizable. And so is this book.” She tsk’ed. 

“That’s not true. Read me the last line you wrote,” she instructed, and he sighed, but complied. 

She didn’t catch a single word of what he read to her, though, because as soon as he began reciting the beginning of his final paragraph, his hand absently slid across the few inches of space between him and her leg. He started rubbing his thumb over her knee while he read, clearly unconscious of what he was doing, and it made the sparks that shot through her leg shock her all the more. She looked down at his hand, her body frozen by the casualness of it all.

Finally, she managed to make her lips work enough to squeak out, “Ben.”

“It was during that year that a record twenty-thousand–what?” 

He turned to her. His hand was still resting on her knee like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Nothing.” It was barely a whisper. Then, Ben seemed to notice that he was touching her with more familiarity than either of them had yet exhibited with each other, and he made to withdraw it quickly, but she had the presence of mind enough to shoot out her own hand and clasp his in place. 

Her hand closed over his, shackling it to her leg like she’d let it remain there for all eternity. They gazed at each other. 

She considered how the rumors would fly if Mabel caught even a whiff of something improper going down in her library. 

Oh, what the fuck. It was her library, too, after all. And Ben’s eyes were boring into her and he was swallowing thickly, like he was trying to stop himself from saying something.

She said it for him. In one fluid motion, she hopped off the desk and slid easily into his lap, legs straddling either side of his hips, then Ben grabbed the back of her neck and brought her lips to his. They crashed together with a fury, all the weeks of flirting and kindness and shiny-newness that having a crush brought swelling and bursting out through their mouths as they kissed, desperate, hungry. His tongue pushed against her bottom lip and she gladly welcomed it, licking it with her own and tasting the cider that she no doubt carried traces of, too. 

“Jesus,” Ben breathed as she pulled away first, both of them panting slightly. His arms had circled around her back, one hand still holding her neck and the other resting right where her bra clasp was. She would have giggled if she wasn’t so desperate to be pressed against him again. 

With abandon, she grasped the sides of his face and pulled their mouths together. Ben groaned into the kiss, his hands traveling down her back to rest at her hips and pulling them more flush with his. He was already starting to stiffen, she could feel it, and it alleviated some of the embarrassment she felt at already being so aroused she could scream. 

They muttered each other’s names through gasps and moans while she hurriedly fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. The soft cotton of his undershirt still felt like too much fabric for him to be wearing, but her efforts were halted when he interjected with his own and pulled her thick sweater over her head. Static electricity shot through her hair as it came off and Ben gave a small “gah!” when his fingers were shocked.

“Totally electrifying,” she giggled at him, and he rolled his eyes, but his unwavering smirk betrayed him. 

“We aren’t gonna…” He glanced around the empty library. The only light source now was the small lamp illuminating the desk and the blood-red moonlight outside. “...in the library, are we?”

She pouted. “Oh, aren’t we?” Ben’s grin was more devilish than she’d ever seen it. She could almost believe that he was concealing something supernatural and malevolent with that grin. 

“I don’t want you to lose your job.”

“They won’t know.”

“Yeah, but I’ll know.” Ben wrapped his arms around her again and stood, lifting her back onto the desk and slotting himself fully between her open and waiting legs. He had to bend at the waist in order to be at eye level with her. “And I’ll never be able to get an ounce of work done here again if it’s the first place we ever fuck, ma’am.” 

Every body part of hers that could tremble, did. She briefly considered whether or not they could go to her place, but then she thought of her three housemates, and how much scandal would be generated if she pulled the handsome newcomer in through the front door by his shirt and up the stairs.

And his accommodations were out of the question. The boarding house landlady famously did not allow visitors into her rented rooms. “Dammit,” she muttered aloud. To buy more time, she kissed Ben and slid her hand down his abdomen until she reached the bulge in his pants. He moaned in pained lust when she grasped it and stroked gently over the clothing. 

Swatting her hand out of the way, he leaned forward until their hips were flush with one another’s, deepening the kiss further. “Ben!” she gasped. He started bucking his hips into her now aching and fluttering core, and the friction from his trousers and her thin tights and underwear made her bury her face in his shoulder and cry. They kept it up, grinding desperately on each other, her legs locked around his waist so there wasn’t an inch of space between them.

“Fuck, God, keep doing that,” Ben moaned into her mouth. His cock was straining hard against the khaki-colored corduroy.

Whatever record had been playing quietly in the background had long since ended, and the gentle “sch, sch, sch,” of the rotating vinyl was the only other sound echoing around the room. At least, it was, until the old clocktower let out a startlingly loud “GONG”, followed by eleven more. They jolted apart, panting, both of their hearts racing from the sudden noise as well as the fevered humping. 

Their eyes were locked for the entirety of the bell’s tolling, and when it had finished, Ben smirked that suggestive, evil smirk and said, “Midnight on All Hallow’s Eve. Think any ghoulies or ghosties are gonna come get us?” She bit her lip and smacked his chest lightly. Then, her eyes widened.

“It’s Halloween.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ben had leaned back into her and was kissing, more languidly this time, from her collarbone to just behind her ear.

“My housemates are at a party across town right now.”

Never in the history of their publication had unshelved books been tidied up faster.

masterlist

[livwritesstuff]

More steddie dads content I really want some Eddie centered like teaching the girls guitar or dnd especially since Robbie is like him I think that they’d bind over a shared interest and he’d teach her stuff from when he was younger!

lol yeah the last few have def been more steve-centric (and also kind of a bummer) so let's switch up the vibe a bit

So, yes, Robbie is Eddie's daughter through and through.

She's stubborn and brazen and loud in her opinions and beliefs. She can be a little flippant about other peoples' feelings when she's not careful, and sometimes struggles to acknowledge the validity in other experiences outside of her own - in other words, she's Eddie to a T. She's even got the same big curly hair (though it's way more well-maintained than Eddie's had been thanks to Steve).

As for hobbies, Robbie is the only one out of Eddie and Steve's three daughters to really take an interest in music.

Eddie is thrilled about this, especially in the early days when Robbie is seven or eight and dying to try out any instrument they put in front of her. She has a natural proclivity for nearly all of them, which is fucking wild to Eddie, but the violin is the one she takes a particular shining towards.

Eddie can't say he'd ever had a resounding interest in classical music, but he wants to support Robbie so he dives into it right along with her.

That shit...

is metal as hell.

Seriously rad.

Eddie anxiously waits for her to be old enough to try out his old electric guitar. He waits until she's fifteen years old - the same age he'd been when he'd gotten his first electric - and then he digs it out of storage and bestows it upon her like the exquisite treasure it truly is.

In true teenager fashion, Robbie is...unimpressed.

She humors him for a bit, and to her credit, she does seem at least a bit intrigued by the almost forty-year-old guitar, but when Eddie offers to show her how to play, she only shrugs.

"I don't want to mess with my technique," she tells him, as if she's not shattering his heart into a bazillion tiny pieces.

"What does that even mean?"

"I dunno," she shrugs again.

Later, once the guitar has been safely put away, Eddie recounts the exchange to Steve.

"I just don't get it," he laments, "She'd be so good at it! I don't get why she won't just give it one chance."

"She's you, my love," Steve tells him, "Are you forgetting all the years you spent rejecting everything outside of what you deemed acceptable. You grew out of it. She will too."

So Eddie resigns himself to waiting it out. Robbie ends up deciding she wants make a career out of playing the violin, and she goes to New York to get her bachelors in music.

Just as Steve had predicted, once she hits college and grows up a little bit, she starts seeing the value in the world outside of the small corner of it she occupies. She comes home from her first semester regaling them with all the things she'd learned, and she catches Eddie by surprise when she asks him to bring out his old electric guitar.

Eddie and Robbie jam in the basement for like five hours before Steve insists they go the fuck to bed, and that "Hazel has school in the morning, in case you lunatics forgot."

(As for dnd, looking at it from the perspective of teenage girls, Steve and Eddie's kids absolutely do not want to think about their dad DM-ing. Eddie can't even breathe the wrong way without his daughters calling him out for being cringe or whatever, never mind executing a whole campaign. They'd die of embarrassment - guaranteed.

Robbie does get super into MTG in college, which Eddie absolutely takes as a personal F-You from his daughter. He gets his revenge by refusing her offers to teach him to play, even though it honestly sounds like a fuckin' blast, but that's a hill he's willing to die on)

[slexenskee]

Ru-kun’s Excessive Guitar Collection

Fell down a rabbit hole debating what guitar Ru-kun plays and decided there was no reason to narrow it down to one lol. Also he’s totally the type to just have way more guitars (and shoes) then he could possibly ever use and should totally have one of those epic guitar walls whenever he gets around to making that recording room.

Squier Contemporary Jaguar HH ST Electric Guitar (Sky Burst Metallic): His first guitar. He bought it as a teenager living in Endeavor’s house to a) make noise and piss his father off and b) because he really liked the color. It’s still his favorite. He played it in his junior-high garage band Band Aids. Fans saw a bit of it during the first few years of No Scrubs’ live shows, back when they still played in tiny dive bars and Ru-kun was so close you could touch him 😭. It makes fans very nostalgic whenever they catch sight of it. 

Fender American Ultra Stratocaster Electric Guitar (Arctic Pearl): Another guitar he bought because it was very pretty (let’s be real, that’s the reason he bought all of them). Achieved critical acclaim as a fan favorite when Ken-chan grabbed it out of his hands on stage and threatened to beat a belligerent drunk out of the venue with it. She was talked out of it after Ru-kun said she’d have to pay for a new one if she busted it over some guy’s head. 

Gibson Les Paul Traditional Pro V Flame Top Electric Guitar (Blueberry Burst): Super glossy beautiful guitar with a great sound. Recorded the albums Thanks I Hate it Here and Good News for People Who Love Bad News with this guitar. He also gives it away in MDNSY Ch 39 to Shouto, who treasures this beauty as it deserves, even if he really doesn’t know how to play it all that well. 

Gretsch “Stump-O-Matic” Electromatic Electric Guitar (White): He really likes to play this one during live shows, very versatile and unfussy. Played it all throughout the ‘Scrubs Unite’ tour and eventually gives it away to Izuku in MDNSY Ch 38(?) and reclaims it briefly in FLW Ch 29 to play Say It Ain’t So. 

Gibson Lzzy Hale Signature Explorerbird Electric Guitar (Cardinal Red): His guitar for the “I’m never going to Hosu again” show Makoto dragged them all to during their hiatus in MDNSY Ch 15, aka the guitar he serenaded Tensei with 🤣 Also recorded Glass Onion Heart on this guitar, bc I love the idea of him playing Misery Business on this baby. He also posed for his magazine cover for Sound & Sundry in FLW Ch 20 with this guitar. 

D’Angelico Premier Series Gramercy LS Acoustic Guitar (Matte Sky Burst): I call this the Limitless guitar cause it’s just the perfect color to match his eyes lol. He went out and bought this just to record the acoustic album Tensei guilt-tripped him into making, Don’t You Know Who I (Think) I Am. Also serenaded Hawks with it during the No Scrubs radio interview with Present Mic in FLW Chapter 23. 

Fender American Pro II Stratocaster Electric Guitar (Miami Blue): Very cool vintage blue guitar he recorded Death Before Decaf on, bc I love the very neon 90′s era look and I love the idea of him playing Nirvana/Weezer/3EB tributes (even if no one knows they’re tributes) on it even more. It’s also Yui’s favorite guitar, for obvious reasons. Did he buy it because he knows it’s her favorite color? Probably. He already promised he’d never sell off his collection (gifting them is another story) but he especially promised not to part with this one. It’s a legacy guitar that’s going to end up in the hands of someone special someday (aka Eri lol)

Fender H.E.R Stratocaster (Chrome Glow): I have been told rather reliably by the mysteriously large amount of friends I have in indie bands that there’s no such thing as too many guitars, and on a related note, no such thing as too many Stratocasters. I am obsessed with H.E.R’s stratocaster and I can 100% envision it being custom made by Fender for Ru-Kun once No Scrubs reaches the international critical acclaim they deserve. He names it Infinity, and records the album Infinity on High with it. In recorded performances for the album he alternates between this one and the Gibson Explorerbird. 

Duesenberg USA Starplayer Electric Guitar (Crimson Red): Yet another stunning guitar with a very vintage vibe. I was so torn on whether I liked the black one or the red one more bc both are so beautiful. Let’s be real he probably buys both but plays the red one live just because it’s pretty and shiny and red always reminds him of Hawks’s wings ♡ Records the May Death Never Stop You album on this baby, and plays the tour of the same name. Also the guitar 

Taylor 614ce Special-Edition Grand Auditorium Acoustic-Electric Guitar: Has a lot of Feelings™ and goes out and drops 3k on this baby just because it reminds him of Hawks and that’s got him feeling a way and records his second acoustic album with it. He absolutely plays a lot of Anti-Hero on it, just bc the brand name lol 

[jungle-angel]

Ray of Sunshine (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Your littlest one is the brightest ray of sun 

Notes: Part of “Tiny Angel”, some details have been added in but not included in the original

Tagging: @rhettabbotts​ Shelby, you mad genius, after that last fic I owe you this plus some smut later (lol). 

Rhett couldn’t stop watching you leading the little ones through the grass and into the fields, the boys climbing and perching themselves on the fence to watch the cows and the horses grazing. The grass seemed greener than usual, but perhaps it was due to the warm, high noon sun hanging in the perfectly blue skies above. 

Hannah, Tatum and Tanner, Kaya, Harvey and Franklin......Rhett didn’t want to imagine a single day without any of them, let alone you. Each one of them and you made your lives like a bright summer day that never ended. 

When he looked down at the tiny form cradled against the bare skin of his chest, the tiny little head resting over his sternum and tucked away under the blue, white and pale bronze knit blanket, Rhett laughed a little bit. It wouldn’t be long before Dallas woke up and all too soon, fell back asleep. Rhett stood on the porch, never once tearing his gaze from you or the older kids as he held onto Dallas’s tiny little form, looking right down at him as his squeaks alerted his father to his awakening. 

“You’re awake aren’t you?” he chuckled. 

Dallas turned his tiny head in, drawing another laugh from Rhett. “You’re a troublemaker through and through buddy,” he said. 

He heard the porch door closing behind him a minute later and out came Royal with his field bag slung over one shoulder and the keys to the truck in his hand. “Goin somewhere Dad?” 

“Gotta head over to Nona and Russ’s for a couple of hours,” Royal answered. “Cow’s got a calf comin’ and Wes, Nora and the kids are elsewhere.” 

Rhett bade his father farewell and watched as the truck pulled away, heading on the road that snaked over the hill to the home of their friends. A squeaky cry suddenly startled Rhett as he felt Dallas’s head turning in again.

“Shhhhh, buddy,” he cooed. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

There was no doubt Rhett would’ve done anything to protect the precious little baby in his arms. Of course he would’ve done the same for the older ones, yet Dallas had been different. Poor baby had been born frighteningly early, abandoned in a box outside the Amelia County Police Precinct and totally abandoned at the hospital where he had been brought by a patrol officer who turned out to be a grade school buddy of Rhett’s. The real shit-kicker had been when said buddy had arrested the horrible parents outside one of the mobile home parks where Royal’s sister lived with her family. 

“You’ve been through alot huh?” Rhett murmured. “I know. Daddy’s been through alot too.” 

He felt Dallas’s tiny little fingers curling against his skin, his little face scrunching up as he yawned. There was only one thing that could get him to go back to sleep at a time like this. 

Rhett switched on the little speaker on the porch table next to the rocker before he lowered himself into the seat, pressing play on his phone and letting the music play as he calmly rocked the little one back to sleep. 

“ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine You make me happy when skies are gray You'll never know dear, how much I love you Please don't take my sunshine away “

Rhett felt the tears beginning to well in his eyes as the song played from the speaker. Royal’s father, his Grandpa River, sounded almost exactly like Johnny Cash when he sang and even when he spoke. He had taught Rhett every song he knew and could pick a guitar like nobody’s business. Yet those days spent in the jungles during Vietnam had taken a terrible toll on Grandpa River. Rhett had wished now more than ever, that he was here to see his great grandkids. 

He was broken from his trance when he heard your feet plodding up the steps, the skirts of your summer dress swaying with the breeze. “How’s he doing?” you asked, kissing your husband’s cheek. 

“He’s tired,” Rhett croaked, wiping away a tear from his eye. 

“You’ve been listening to that song again haven’t you?” 

Rhett nodded and suddenly busted out laughing. 

“Rhett Abbott, you are the biggest softie when you’re not riding those ornery bulls,” you chuckled. 

You took a seat beside him, watching the kids as they played in the grass, chasing after a butterfly or a rabbit that happened to cross their path. You never saw such a look of pure love on his face as you did now. 

And it was all because of the little rays of sunshine that had found their way into your lives.