#they put their whole hearts into this series and this concert

[jihoonjuseyo]

Woozi Boyfriend Headcanons

a/n: i wanted to put my whole heart into this, but figured i may want to want to incorporate these into possible one-shots or series i may produce! feel free to send any requests ♡

to start, THE woozi never appreciated the idea of hiding your relationship.

he is a very private person, as we all know, but he also made no grand gesture to reveal your relationship. he carried on with you, as a normal couple would do and when the media picked it up, he never cared to acknowledge it. jihoon would be spotted with you, the famous soloist who soon was titled his girlfriend. they wouldn’t. be wrong!

woozi loves to give you massages.

he knows you work hard. jihoon is known for not being affectionate, but you’re an idol too and he knows the strain it puts on your body. sometimes if you’re just sitting there, tilting your head to stretch a muscle, he’d instantly move to stand behind you, and his hands were on your shoulders. he’d look around the room, noticing how some of the members would notice but not say anything or immediately look away. they knew he’d stop once there was attention called to him. you’d hum in pleasure, leaning into his touch as his thumb would massage and rub against the knots in your shoulder. “it’s because of your posture,” he said quietly, making you grimace at his gentle scolding. “it’s because my mattress sucks.” you’d reply, and he’d smile, knowing that wasn’t even the truth.

jihoon brings food to you in free time.

if you’re at practice, expect for a boy dressed in black with a hat to slip inside with the most enticing scent of your favorite food. he’d sit there and watch you, nodding his head and giving subtle gestures of encouragement until you finished up. your backup dancers would be leaving you both alone, while jihoon would be having a steady back and forth conversation with you. he never opens up much, but when it’s just you two, hes begging for every detail of your day. and you’d answer him, eyelashes fluttering when you came to a certain realization or a detail you left out. he noticed it all, chewing with the slightest smile on his lips as he listened and gave short replies.

he isn’t big on pda, but loves to be close to you.

in public or outtings, jihoon is seen walking next to you but never giving much space. a simple brush against your arm or taking your hand to redirect you in pedestrian traffic is enough for him. he’s also always looking for you when you both get separated, even when you travel with them for concerts or tours. he pretends to do a headcount, when in actuality he was making sure you were still amongst them. once found, jihoon’s body would inconspicuously be right next to yours or standing behind you.

he mentions you in interviews briefly and subtly.

he’d mention how his biggest inspiration for his concept was an instance that happened between him and his girlfriend. “your lyrics hold a new sounding taste of poetry. did she help you with the songs on this album?” woozi would grow flustered, but in an attempt to keep it from getting mushy, he came back with a witty response of “all she had to do was sit there and let me look at her,” he’d stifle a laugh, “it would just come to me.”

it often caused the members to tease and push him playfully, the flustered and giggly look on his face causing them to all to appreciate jihoon’s girlfriend more and more. he needs you.

he is the first to notice when you don’t feel comfortable in a situation.

when you found yourself in a situation where there’s people you don’t seem happy to be around, or you’re feeling anxious in a large crowd or award show, he’s the one who notices before anybody and is placing a gentle hand on your back. “are you feeling okay?” he’d ask you, moving his head to meet your eyes. if you said no, he’d do what he could to make sure this rush goes away quickly. offering you to step outside, or walking you to the restroom. if you swore you’d be okay, he’d have his hand easily accessible for you to squeeze if you think it gets too much.

he wears your scrunchy on stage every. time.

you’d go so far as to even purchase new colorful ones to match his uniforms on the stage. his favorite was your dark red one, that went with almost everything he had. it was velvety, and his favorite pass-time was spotting fans catching the same scrunchies in an all-famous soloist’s hair was the same that he sported a week later at an award show. it was a simple flex, but he enjoyed showing everything off of yours that he could get his hands on. sometimes it’s your girly little bracelets or a ring he purposely flashes the camera when he gets a zoom-in.

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat. 

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other. 

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you. 

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story. 

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Your new family (Part VI)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of stress, not a lot of plot here but little snippets of moments with all the kids

You were a little bit stressed out to meet all of Bruce’s children but you also felt like it was going to be alright. Jason was there, always by your side. Dick and Tim liked you and they had said only good things about you to the others. Especially Dick, because he was well aware that Jason wouldn’t agree to spend time with him again without you. The fact Bruce was much nicer since you were together was also working in your favour. Alfred was approving of you too and he had personally asked all of the children to treat you well.

The children were also aware that Bruce would be very unhappy and disappointed with them all if things didn’t go well. It was obviously very important for him.

At first, everyone was a little bit silent and awkward. It was the first time a civilian was introduced to the whole family. And technically, they already knew a lot about you without knowing you, so they weren’t too sure how to act around you. They didn’t want to scare you off by showing they made research about you… and stalked you.

After a little while, you gently teased them all, saying that for vigilantes they were quite shy. It quickly put them at ease.

Things went actually a lot better than you thought and you could tell no one really believed you would that easily get along with the family. You felt Bruce relaxing through the dinner, his hand on your thigh under the table. His warmth helped you feel safer around everyone as well.

Soon enough they all were chatting around and asking you questions. It was a true interrogation but you didn’t mind. For once, you were the one answering questions and not the other way around. It was fun.

Damian was the only silent one. He wasn’t too sure how to deal with you. He didn’t need you. He wasn’t used to seeing his father around someone. He wasn’t too certain how to react when his father kissed the back of your hand with such love shining in his eyes. 

You noticed his uncertainty but you weren’t too worried about it. You knew you were fitting just right in there. You had never felt like that before, or just with your grandma. It was a nice change in your life. And you were really eager to start spending some time with all of them, like you were doing with Jason already.

You went to concerts with Dick. He wanted to go to those classic piano concerts but no one was eager to follow him. He had asked you, half certain you would politely decline his offer. But on the contrary, you had been more than happy to agree to come with him. Your eagerness warmed his heart. It had been a long time he hadn’t had a motherly figure in his life, and he knew you were fitting perfectly. Since then, whenever one of you wanted to go to a concert - no matter what kind - you had to go together. It was your thing. None of you went to so many concerts before, but it was a pretext to spend time together. You talked a lot before the concerts too and Dick could only agree with Jason: you were easy to talk to.

You played video games with Tim. You were waiting for Bruce to come back from patrol one night and you were bored out of your mind. You found Tim playing in the living room. At first, you just asked him if you could hang around. He agreed without thinking much of it, before offering you to play with him. He needed another player and no one else was around at that time. It appeared you were a gamer and you enjoyed fighting against one other. But you enjoyed working together on co-op games even more. You spent a lot of evenings with Tim on the couch, screaming together when you were losing or winning. Everyone knew better than to annoy the two of you when you were gaming.

You watched movies with Stephanie. Stephanie was clearly not too certain how to be around you. Things weren’t always easy with Bruce and after the way her parents betrayed her, she felt like she couldn’t trust adults any longer. But Jason loved you so much that she thought she could give you a chance. Watching movies allowed the two of you to bond, without having to interact too much at first. Then you started to talk a lot about what you just saw, and then about everything else. Watching movies snuggled up against you started to become Stephanie’s comfort zone and you were more than happy to give her that. Even though you were a tease, you never said anything when she fell asleep on you.

You took dancing lessons with Cassandra. It was clear the girl was a classic dancer; she was really amazing to watch. You loved to dance too, even though you never really took any kind of lessons, so you thought it would be a nice activity to do together. Cass instantly agreed. It allowed her to observe you and your body language. She had more fun than she thought, and she offered to keep going dancing together. You improved a lot thanks to her help and she liked to discover other kinds of dances thanks to you. You also came to watch her repetitions and her representations. She started to always look for you in the spectators, happy to be taken care of that way. 

You did puzzles with Duke. You started to spend a lot more time at the manor, even when Bruce wasn’t around. You were currently doing a mind game on the living room table as Duke went by. You started to chat around and you saw Duke was quite eager to play with you, so you invited him to settle by your side. Once you were done, he looked for a puzzle he hadn’t finished yet so you could do it together. When the weather was pretty bad in Gotham, you quite liked to get some hot cacao and to do puzzles with Duke. Because you both were pretty good with puzzles, you had to always find more challenging ones. Looking for them was also part of the fun.

For Damian, things were a little bit more difficult, as he made it clear, he had no interest in spending time with you. It hurt you a little more than you wanted to admit but didn’t say anything at first. You eventually went to an animal care centre open to the public with Damian and Bruce. Bruce offered for you to come with the two of them so his son could get used to your presence. He had noticed he was the only one who was avoiding you. Damian stayed cold to you for a long time, eyeing his father holding your hand with a frown until you let go of Bruce’s hand to come closer to the lions. You really loved the animals and Damian thought you couldn’t be that bad then. That evening, Alfred the cat fell asleep on your lap, so Damian started to be more polite to you. It was the first step. You started to bond over taking care of his pets.

You also met Barbara, Kate, Luke and Lucius. 

Kate and you instantly became friends because you were seeing things quite similarly. You also loved to tease everyone together. You had a real complicity between the two of you, and you often hang out together just for the sake of being together. And annoying everyone.

Barbara needed some time to trust you but she could tell you were a good addition to the family. She slowly warmed up to you. You didn’t take it personally and you showed a lot of patience. You were happy to be part of this group of amazing people, and Barbara couldn’t deny how kind you were to all of them.

Luke trusted Duke’s approval of you. You talked a lot around a drink in a bar in Gotham after Dick invited everyone for his birthday. You asked him questions about the army and the way veterans were taken care of. You promised him to do an article about it, which touched Luke a lot.

Lucius and you enjoyed talking together, as ones of the only civilians of the family, with Alfred. For Lucius, it was quite refreshing to be able to discuss with someone who was also shaking their head at the Batfamily’s antics. Lucius quickly saw how much of a good asset you could be for Wayne Enterprises as well and he hoped that at some point you would agree to help Bruce with it.

As months went by, you started to all know each other a lot more. And to start to love one another quite fiercely. You were their Batmon. You got confirmation of it when the children playfully and yet tenderly brought you a bracelet with the bat logo on it. You swore to always wear it.

--

PART 7

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

@elleclairez

[usedpidemo]

Shangri-la (Oh My Girl Yooa)

Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.

—————

“What the?”

What welcomes you inside the bedroom takes you by complete surprise. It’s the kind that leaves you with more questions than answers. She had been very vague about the whole ordeal, skittering around the details. she was completely straightforward about one thing: to get fucked. That’s the main selling point.

Her inviting tone, her sultry expression, her lust—it’s still freshly imprinted on your mind from an hour ago. You’ve heard those words—their many variations—a handful of times, but hers is by far the most enticing and the sweetest sounding:

“Wanna have sex with me tonight?”

—————

Admittedly, it was never on your bucket list to attend a concert, let alone a group who sings primarily in foreign. It was supposed to be just a kind gesture for a roommate.

He’s your resident nerdy K-pop fan, the kind that gets bullied in real life and on the internet. He’s the full package; posters on the bedroom wall, a book full of photocards, and a shelf of albums and lightsticks which he considers as his sacred temple. You were never meant to go beyond a toe’s dip into this unhealthy obsession he’s engrossed himself in; completing his homework was enough exposure. 

If there was one takeaway from your observations, it was quite obvious: the girls are really hot. And that’s all that you needed to convince yourself to go. 

Besides, you were his roommate—and his only friend. Out of the kindness of your heart, you have an obligation to be there for him, at least until you graduate.

For the most part, the show was entertaining. Again, the girls were pretty attractive, and they were dressed in outfits that flaunted their bodies exceptionally well. Your friend’s relentless screaming accustomed you to the crowd’s energy, which was no joke. Even in a small, intimate venue, there were several moments where you felt that the place might collapse off the audience’s deafening shouts alone. At least you came prepared with noise canceling earplugs.

It’s not a huge surprise when he suddenly vanishes after the show. He’s been in and out of sight the whole time; getting freebies, merch shopping, taking numerous bathroom breaks, to the point where he just straight up forgets he left his phone with you before running off again. 

To make things worse, it’s the dying moments of the night, when everyone in the VIP section, the two of you included, gets to greet the members for only a brief passing moment. He’d been acting like his entire life has been building to this moment, completely neglecting the fact you were his ride home. 

Of course you’re not entirely sure about who’s who in this group. Six equally pretty girls, all wearing the exact same shirt and short skirt combination, down to the colors, with equally warm smiles. You didn’t have enough time to familiarize yourself with each of their names; the internet in the area has been failing you for hours. The staff was strict with phones the closer you approached them. It didn’t help that everyone screamed through their introductions, too.

Unsurprisingly, nothing substantial came of your interaction. A series of repetitive, awkward bows and near-silent whispers of “hello.” You’ve been putting off Duolingo for months, and it showed. It should have been a forgettable affair, considering the hundreds of people they’re greeting just from tonight’s queue alone. It’s not like you particularly stand out from the rest of the crowd; a casual shirt and jeans combo that’s indistinguishable from the dozens in attendance, and you don’t have anything on you that screams ‘overly dedicated fan.’

So when you’re pulled aside by the same staff closely watching the queue during the meet and greet, asked to head backstage as part of some secret lucky draw, you’re not surprised. There’s an age-old superstition that states that you’re more likely to meet celebrities the less you’re familiar with them. It rings true, and you have first hand proof.

You’re led to this singular door in what’s basically an unused narrow hallway. The kind that criminals use to trap their victims. Definitely safe. The staff member instructs you to head in before leaving you there alone. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Instead of your friend, you find one of the members you just met, waiting on the other side. You have so many questions, but she she gives you another to entertain:

“You wanna have sex with me tonight?”

Much to her amusement ,you’re taken aback. At first, you’d think she was pulling some kind of prank. By the way she smiles and laughs, it’s a reaction all too familiar to her, like this is some kind of cliche. It’s not a surprise to hear those words from any girl, knowing your experiences at college parties and bars, but from a traveling singer? Simply put, it’s quite ridiculous.

“You’re joking right?” you say, hand close to the door you just entered, ready to make a beeline for it. You glance around the enclosed, compact space, searching for any possible hidden cameras recording the scene.

She shakes her head, taking a step forward. “Not at all. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Do you do this all the time?” you ask, her reply not easing you in the slightest. Your hand inches a little closer to the door. It’s not like she’s going to hurt you; if anything, her thin figure’s probably what should worry her if you dare to even breathe heavily on her, let alone touch. 

“Yeah. Every stop. You look really cute,” she says, reaching her hand out to you. “And you look like you can give me a good time tonight.”

There’s something flattering about her words, coming from an idol singer, complimenting you that hits a chord harder than other girls. Her sincere tone, doll-like eyes twinkling, and expressive lips certainly help. It’s alluring—devastating—to a casual like you; how much more to someone who worships her. 

Then, here comes the killing blow:

“So, what’s it going to be?” She kisses you on the chin, wrapping her arms around your neck. It’s not suffocating, not in the slightest, but you might as well be entangled by them. Her eyes, sharp and fiery, are daring you to say otherwise to her seemingly coarse question. 

Leaning your head against her shoulder, her scent and soft skin prove to be intoxicating. You can’t get enough. That hand you’ve been pressing on the door is no longer there; it’s coiled around her back, taking inventory of her slim waist and arched back, then teasing at the fabric of her shirt. Even if she wasn’t the girl you just watched perform on stage, she’s too gorgeous to turn down. And it isn’t like you’ll find your friend, anyway. Perhaps this is your way of getting back at him for being insufferable all throughout.

“Here?” you ask, whispering in her ear, playing with fire. 

She holds you by the cheek, tilting an eyebrow. Shaking her head, she drags her tongue on the ridge of your ear. “Somewhere nicer.”

—————

It’s only you and her in the backseat of one of their vans, windows tinted and the front closed off that it’s safe to assume that the driver can’t hear you—perfectly convenient. He probably doesn’t know you’re even there. 

It’s inside the car that you finally become familiar with each other. YooA, or as she’d prefer you to call her, Shiah, and you have this light bulb moment where you put it all together. You bring up this collection of photocards in your friend’s book holder; you recognize her face on some of the cards. She laughs. Heartily. Her face lights up, honored at the thought, and it’s a sincere look. Other artists would simply wave it off and move on, but she appears intrigued by the effort to obsess over her.

She calls it a bias, and you call it an obsession. In the other’s eyes, you’re both strange. To you, it’s unhealthy and strange; to her, it’s part of the appeal, part of the culture.

So it’s all the more surprising when you admit you’re simply there because of him, that you would have looked the other way otherwise. And in response, she has this warm, wholesome smile; she doesn’t appear offended by your candidness. You don’t know a thing about them, other than they’re delicious eye candy.

“So this is your first foray into K-pop? I hope it was a good one,” she says, flashing you a cute pout. “That means a lot for all of us.”

Yeah, you nod, your eyes wandering down her slim body, draped in darkness, only brought to the light by passing street lamps. You notice how slender and lanky she is. It doesn’t change the appeal; she’s unreal. “I should go more often if that’s the case.”

Shiah chuckles. “You didn’t pay, then. I bet you’re getting more than what he bargained for.”

To which you nod, barely holding in a particularly uncharacteristic grin. She catches it. An opportunity to twist the knife.

It’s a casual affair when you reach the hotel. There’s a surprising lack of fanfare upon your arrival. You assume idols have as much popularity as any other celebrity, but you’re both left alone—and without security, walking past the front desk without a care or a question. Tension gradually builds as you climb floor after floor, until you step out that elevator and into her room, away from prying eyes. 

What welcomes you inside Shiah’s bedroom catches you off-guard.

“What the?”

The person sitting at the center of the bed turns to your direction, shouts out your name. You can recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hey! There you are!”

You immediately turn to Shiah, who replies gleefully, “Of course I knew. Your friend told me everything. He wanted me to invite you along.”

Forget that your friend orchestrated the whole ordeal. It’s the fact that he wants you to join him in a threesome. You expected him to be greedy with the rare opportunity to have a beautiful idol all to himself, but instead, he’s somehow still involving you in the action. There’s a lot to take in, and you don’t exactly know where to start.

“Is this even allowed?” you ask, unsure of your place in this room. You’re slowly soaking up the scenery; none of it makes any sense. Scattered on the bedroom floor is Your friend’s shirt and his bag, freebies and personal belongings alike,, while Shiah casually saunters around the mattress, gradually removing pieces of jewelry from herself and placing them on the nightstand.

“Of course, dude!” says your friend. His energy hasn’t waned in the slightest. You’re amazed his voice hasn’t changed at all, let alone his ability to speak. He had been screaming beside you for the entirety of the show, you’d probably go deaf because of him if not for your earplugs. “I wouldn’t have asked her if she wasn’t allowed to, or if she didn’t feel it.”

“He’s right,” adds Shiah, unbuttoning her jeans. Looking at her again, she grabs your attention with the casual stripping of her pants, pooled around her ankles, leaving only pale colored panties that leave nothing to the imagination. “Plus, I haven’t tried having a threesome before, and tonight seemed like a good idea to try that.”

Surely, you’ve heard weird things before, but none were as out of pocket as this.

“C’mere dude,” says your friend, gesturing to you to take the spot beside him on the bed. “We’re going to fuck an idol tonight. And not just any idol, my freaking bias!”

Your eyes continue to linger on her. Shiah, now undoing her top, candidly tossing them aside. The one time you regret not having your phone on hand to capture without obstruction. Her tits are bite-sized handfuls, nipples firm and on full display, and her figure is so paper thin, you’ll break her when you hold her by her ridiculous proportions. The only thing missing is some fragile warning label plastered on her skin as a reminder to handle her with care.

This is the most awkward you’ve been with your friend since you first met, when he first moved into your dorm. Seated on the mattress, you’re anxious of what’s about to happen. You worry she won’t be able to handle you two; he worries that he won’t be able to ruin her to the fullest extent. 

She meets you at the center in nothing but panties. She scans you both from head to toe, and notices your contrasting expressions. Facing you, she says, “Hey. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t confident about the idea. If you don’t make me unable to walk after tonight, I’m gonna be quite disappointed. So chin up.”

Reassuring of a tone it may sound, it doesn’t ease your worry even a little. It doesn’t discourage her either; it’s part of the challenge.

She drops to her knees, and that’s when you come around on the idea. Her fingers make work of your pants; yours first, then your friend’s. With eagerness written on her face, your hard cocks hang between her tiny face. Pausing, undecided, she takes a moment to think which one to satisfy. The way she eyes both yours, then your friend’s—you can tell how hungry she is: how she wants them shoved inside her mouth, down her throat, taking all that delicious load. If she could fit both at once, she certainly would.

“Which one should I take first, boys?” she asks, innocuous sounding, her doll-like eyes pleading up with a playful pout. Knowing full well she already has this whole thing already planned out. You and your friend swallow hard, telepathically aligned, thinking of the same idea, based on the rather silent response.

Shiah has your eyes fluttering, hands already gripped to the edge of the bed, lips letting out a string of delightful moans. It sounds like relief, agony, and ecstasy all at once. She’s leaving soft kisses on your tip, her tongue running circling around your length, and her fingers slowly pumping at your base. All your doubts and hesitations, gone in an instant. The very few glimpses you catch of her, her eyes speak to you, staring, telling you to take it all in.

She feels so good, handles you deftly, as if she’s already acquainted with your cock, even though it’s the first time. Pushing all the sensitive, perfect spots and getting you into a steady rhythm. 

“See? I told you it was gonna be—fine—fuck—” 

Your friend folds just as quickly as you do, if not faster. His words, instantly reduced to echoed grunts, groans, and curses, his hand palming Shiah’s scalp. She’s focused, taking turns with each cock, kissing and teasing you both with the prospect of shoving it down her needy, thirsty throat. One hand on your dick and the other on his, stroking you at near-synchronized tempo, then vice versa. You wonder exactly why she’s even hesitant and nervous about taking two at once when she’s clearly a natural at satisfying cocks. 

She’s well aware that she has only one mouth to fulfill her craving for cock. There’s a look of regret every time she stops sucking one cock in place of the other. It’s almost as if she’s failing, even though the pleasure-ridden expressions on your faces say otherwise. “I hope this is good enough,” she frowns, taking a moment to plant another direct kiss on each cockhead. “I wish I could fit you both in my mouth, but I—”

“Shhh.” Your friend interjects, tugging harshly at Shiah’s dark locks, then rubbing his hand around her forehead. “You’re doing so fucking well, so much better than we hoped—”

Suddenly, he finds himself slowly crumbling. Precum coating around her dainty fingers, while he loses grip on his consciousness, lying flat on the bed. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the very short time you’ve had Shiah on her knees, it’s that she’s particularly gentle. You can feel she’s not going to ruin you instantly and that she’s nowhere close to crushing your cock, unlike some of the girls you’ve known in the past. 

This is all new to your friend, after all. It shouldn’t be surprising.

Still, she continues to pleasure you both, taking a moment to slip his erection inside her throat, slurping and swallowing his cock whole. Her eyes instantly slam shut, mumbling a songful hum, finally soaking in the taste after intentionally restraining herself from her lust. Turning to your side, your friend clearly can’t take her; his mouth agape, his chest heaving, breathing heavily, his eyes widely staring at the ceiling in a useless effort to distract himself. In his mind, she’s relentless, overwhelming, cruel.

Her eyes slide in your direction, brows furrowed, apologetic. You shake your head, smile lightly, perfectly understanding of the situation. It’s not that she’s ignoring you; her other hand’s pressing on the base of your cock, down to the underside, pressing on your balls. She’s already left her mark on you even though she’s doing the bare minimum. The layer of precum on her fingers is clear proof. That should be more than enough. 

And when you find your friend completely unresponsive, breathing through his mouth, you tilt your head at an angle and make this poor sleeping impression—something he hasn’t had in over 24 hours. It’s the command that causes Shiah to slip his cock from her mouth with a silent pop, his dick throbbing with her spit dripping from the tip. Her focus turns over to you; her eyes meeting yours, her hands pressing on each knee, and your fingers brushing loose strands of hair aside to see her pretty face, flushed but flawless. It’s now just down to you two. 

She gives your head a playful swirl, and you lift your brows in approval, subtly biting at the lip to show her you like it. Her eyes lock in, scanning through each subdued wince, waiting for the go ahead.

It’s the slightest head motion that nearly ends you. You’re uncertain if you even said yes or no.

Shiah looks so much better with your cock in her mouth than anyone else’s. She knows, too. You pause to take the sight in—your length buried deep in her mouth, occasionally poking her throat, her cheeks hollow, her eyes looking wide at you with a fiery glint, begging you to take her, use her, ruin her. You’re perfectly positioned to work her; your hand is palming the back of her head, giving her this assertive stare that appears demeaning, but you can tell she prefers to be seen that way. It would be criminal to have her on her knees and not have your way with her.

And you do just that.

You hold her still, using the little increments of strength to motion her into a bobbing motion. She surrenders herself into your control, moving her head back and forth with the grip of your hand. Like the swing of a pendulum, you watch your base disappear and appear between her lips. You’re nowhere close to burying yourself entirely in her mouth, but she feels so incredible, so intoxicating, she may as well be deepthroating you.

It’s not the firmness of her luscious lips kissing your cock nor her lewd expressions that shake you, but her suction. She hums this wistful note while sucking your cock—a song of satisfaction. In contrast to the steady rhythm you’re attempting to impose, she drags your length along her tongue, forcing you into this playful tug-of-war whenever you draw your cock back, directing where your cum should land. She envisions it: the notion of your hot load collected on her cheeks. Her fingers point where she wants them, using her pleading eyes and brows to entice you. 

And you’re not going to deny her request. She’s too charming and expressive to turn down. Even more so when your cock is lodged between her lips. 

You utter this particularly incomprehensible mix of a groan and a grumble while your throbbing cock unloads the warm cum she desires. Without wasting a single drop, she takes it all, puffing her cheeks with your seed while carefully pulling your cock out her mouth. Your hand is no longer resting on her head but rather around her shoulder and collarbones. She plays with the load in her mouth, gargling, swishing, before swallowing it all. Afterward, she sticks out her silky tongue, face completely flustered, showing you the aftermath: leftovers of your cum painting her mouth.

“God, Yoo—I mean, Shiah—” you breathe, lightly falling back on the bed as your legs go numb. Your flaccid cock isn’t enough to show how much she’s drained you in one fell swoop. “How are you so—”

“I told you I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t so confident about it,” she remarks, rising to her feet before pushing you down on the sheets, straddling herself on your lap. Her energy remains steadfast. It’s infectious. Winking and pouting, she adds, “Now fuck me till I can’t walk.”

You’re completely sold on the idea, but you can’t do it alone.

Pushing Shiah off you, you shake your friend back into consciousness. You’re holding her by the shoulders, giving her lips a quick kiss. A soft gesture telling her to be a tad patient. Her eyes clue you in; she’s dying to be fucked, to be used, to be ruined. Your friend looks around, feeling hazy, completely unaware of what transpired, even though it’s only been less than 10 minutes. 

“What’d I miss?” he asks, still trying to make sense of things. The last thing he remembers is Shiah on her knees. Now he sees you and his bias in each other’s embrace. Surprisingly, he’s not fazed in the slightest. The bed’s tremors—rumblings—are good enough indicators.

You’re unable to completely look him in the eye, and you don’t know what to answer, so she does it for you: “Your friend blew a nice load inside my mouth. We were just about to have round two. Join us.”

To her amusement, the reply has you staring at her utterly gobsmacked. It’s not the fact that she’s telling it straight, with zero sugarcoating, but her candid, conversational delivery and deadpan expression, as if they’re close friends catching up on lost time. He doesn’t seem bothered, nor does he ask any further questions. Knowing him, he’d be disappointed if you didn’t. 

Really, what’s there to question when given an opportunity to fuck an idol without any conditions or red tape. He’s not making the most of the moment as you have, and the hurried jump off the bed to take position behind her indicates he’s not going to waste any more time. You’re scared you might get into a confrontation over how you’ll take her.

“Say the word and I’ll move aside,” you tell him, calmly. 

“Let me have her tight ass,” is the reply, straightforward. Chalk it up to tension, but there’s a hint of harshness in his voice, as though some bitterness is leaking. He subtly pulls her away from your side, prompting you to let him take full control. 

You aren’t surprised at where he ends up taking her. The bed is the comfiest option, but in his mind, the safest and the most cliche. A shower to ease the tension and stress in the muscles—that’s a good one too, on top of having her possibly pressed against the panels and the idea of soaping her tits while fucking her in the wet. This luxurious suite, which feels like walking from the one end of a parking lot to the other on weary legs, has a handful of mirrors to watch her get railed on. None are as captivating and inviting as the biggest one—the large glass windows that overlook the city, lit up by lights from nearby skylines and the illumination from the living room. 

He presses her tiny frame against the window, then on air, giving her tiny butt a firm slap. Followed by another. Something about Shiah with her back arched, yelping with each spank, arouses him. Her too. She whines, biting on her lip, hands trying to latch to anything. There’s plenty to claim—from her bite-sized chest, to her slinky waist, to her soiled panties. Something he slips down to her ankles. 

In the moment, your friend doesn’t acknowledge you. He’s all up in her hair, licking the shell of ear, a set of clenched digits digging into her warmth. Her eyes fluttering, she whines, pressing a hand around his waist, mumbling, begging, “Fuck me, please, fuck me.”

You can tell she’s apologetic, wants to be punished and manhandled like a naughty girl. Your friend has this glare in his eyes—a look of hunger. His fingers pump away at her core, without care for pace or comfort, just the satisfaction of hearing her cries and the need for her to cum. Bumping her against the window, he’s kissing her, claiming her as his own. Red marks form everywhere on her neck, collarbones, and back. Her entire body. All his. 

You let him. You watch. Not out of guilt, not out of arousal. It’s his moment.

He looks over his shoulder and finds you just watching. “C’mere,” he growls between muted groans, tone low. It should be awkward (it is) but all that tension disappeared the moment she got on her knees. Approaching the twosome in such a strange fashion, he continues to finger Shiah, shifting her away from the window, binding her from behind by one hand. He’s suppressing his tongue, teasing his cockhead against the entrance of her pussy, barely able to restrain himself. 

When you’re in front of her again, you’re greeted by a hot mess. Her juices are dripping down her thighs, pooling around her feet. His coated fingers line around her warmth, around her tight hole. His lust is on full display, cussing out a storm about how incredibly wet and tight she is while she prepares herself to get fucked into oblivion. It’s not the first time you’ve heard him say these things; he talks a loud talk about how he’d fuck his biases in explicit detail, writes particularly concerning essays about the positions they’d be railed in, how they would cum, and how many times he would make them cum. 

At the end of the day, it was none of your business.

And ultimately, he might have been onto something.

You let out this loud unsuppressed moan burying yourself inside her tight cunt. She’s suffocating, overwhelmingly tight—the kind of heat that can make you cum almost immediately. You’re still recovering from your first orgasm, putting you on the backfoot. Still, her walls are too inviting not to get hard again. Meanwhile, your friend, who’s been eager to fuck Shiah’s ass for the longest time, is in no rush. His cock is barely entering her tight hole, slowly easing himself inside her with deep breaths. He’s grabbing a handful of her flesh, openly moaning and grunting taking her.

“F-fuck, Yoo—” he mutters, grabbing at her petite cheeks with an ironclad grip. Pulling her closer to his body so his cock can split her in half. He’s growing greedy—and desperate.

Everything you’re doing to Shiah can be seen in the window’s reflection: you pounding into her tight cunt, your friend’s cock spearing her from behind, her body practically sandwiched between your twosome. The combined weight is more than capable of crushing her slim frame, her skin like tire marks on both your chests. Neither of you move with an understanding of working as a team, and it shows; your collective strokes are unsteady, erratic, chaotic.

This isn’t good for your back—at all. Shiah’s bent forward in part to your friend’s slow, deep thrusts into her delicious ass, rippling with each stroke. She’s clutching to your shoulders for support, screaming from the absolute depths of her lungs getting doubled up. The uncomfortable position is mostly clouded by the overwhelming sensation of your cocks tag teaming on her two sensitive holes. You’re leaning, steadily falling back. That inescapable warmth—that intoxicating heat—keeps you coming back for more, friction be damned.

God, Shiah’s pussy is so fucking perfect.

And that’s what you end up muttering. In an endless choir of ecstasy-charged moans, profanities, and wet sloppy slaps of skin against skin, you throw those words out to the wind. So good, so tight—those doubts you had entering the room, now just thoughts from yesterday. She’s everything you want in a satisfying fuck; your hands intertwined with her waist, rocking her frame with every plunge, savoring each entry into that needy womb.

It’s no surprise then that she cums so soon.

It’s been slowly building to this moment. The signs were there all along; the blink and you’ll miss it patch on her jeans, the phallic object in her purse, the wet puddle forming on her panties, the not so subtle gestures she’s giving fans between performances—she’s been desperate to cum on a cock and her wish can finally be granted. 

In dramatic fashion, she’s all over you. Clinging to you like her lifeline, showing you how you’ve ruined her. Body trembling, legs quaking—the ripples send shockwaves through your body, also in the process of falling apart. Throwing out her hips, a new layer of juices coat both cocks, dripping to the floor. You’re there to break her fall, but you have nothing to stop yours. 

Passing through deaf ears, her screams revert to soft pleas. “Cum, cum in me—please—fuck—” she whines in bursts, riding out her climax in waves, waiting for you two to join her over the edge. You’re preoccupied with the raging fire in your loins, restraining your urge to release your seed inside her needy cunt prematurely. At this point, you’re almost done, holding onto the last of your resolve not to spurt right then and there. The layer of her slick coating your cock doesn’t do you any favors, either.

Propping her body straight, your thrusts remain relentless. Steadied pace, at your own will, rocking her senseless—that’s how you want to finish inside her. You want to keep her in that position: cupping her tiny chest, wrapping an arm on the neck, resting a hand on your light shoulder. Shiah’s body is the perfect plaything.

All of that is too good to be true.

“Cumming, gonna cum—” you mutter, rather ashamedly, though you’re holding up better than anyone ever expected, especially after already orgasming once. You press her to your friend, almost a flat out shove. The line couldn’t be any thinner. “Shit—”

Your legs are on the cusp of crumbling, but at least they’re generous enough to let you savor this moment. Spilling your pent up need, you fuck that remaining cum into her. It’s fulfilling, euphoric. All the proof is down there, dripping between her legs and on your cock. The sight of her splayed, wrecked hole, oozing with seed, tempting you to stick a thumb around her slick core. She squirms at your sensitive touches, still needy and in want.

Only after the orgasm does your vision clear again. It’s an amusing scene; your friend is still pounding into Shiah’s tight ass at a feverish pace. Last one in, last one out—at least you think, that’s how the saying goes, until he lets out this guttural groan, indicating he’s reached his own climax too. If not for the setting, it’s an accomplishment worth cheering, the kind that’s worth a celebration of a life milestone. Cocks buried to the hilt, the sight of her holes spilling seed never grows old. 

At least you both can agree on one thing: staying inside the welcoming warmth that is Shiah’s heat. Neither of you want to leave, even when you regain mobility in your legs.

You’ve got the rest of the night to ruin her, leave her room hobbling or crawling on her feet. Your friend has a bucket list of positions to fuck her in, so it’s the least of your worries. Besides, both of them know you have no intention of leaving. And in the middle of this non-existent conundrum, while your friend is leaving soft kisses all over her back as a victory lap, she takes a moment to glance at you both. Noticing the similarity of smiles on your faces and your supportive nature towards your friend, she’s reminded of something she shares with her members, apart from the fact they’re getting railed at this very moment:

True friendship.

—————

(A/N: Expect a bit more crowdedness aka more-somes over the next few fics. I also haven't written an Oh My Girl member since Arin in over a year, so that's one off the list! This one took a while, had a whole other story involving roadtrips and hitchhiking, which I ultimately scrapped. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

[jo-speaks]

concert

in which…

quinn and fem! reader go to a concert!

warning(s): none!

third date in the alphabet dates series!

note: this was supposed to be posted last week, but i tore my acl and meniscus so blame surgery!

You leaned down as you slipped on a pair of white cowboy boots just as Quinn entered the room.

“Damn.” He said, walking up behind you, giving your ass a quick slap.

You let out a soft laugh, “Hi, Quinn.”

Standing straight, you turned around and pressed a soft kiss over the small scar on his cheek. He placed his hands on your waist before briefly connecting your lips with his.

“I’ll be waiting downstairs. Take your time.” He mumbled as he kissed you again before walking out of the room.

You smiled as you tied your hair up, grabbed your bag, and made your way downstairs.

As your feet landed on the ground floor, you noticed Quinn’s jean-covered butt poking out of the hallway closet.

Not being able to help yourself, you hurried over to where he was and slapped it.

He quickly perked up, hands going behind his back to protect himself from another smack. You tried to keep a straight face, but the red flush on his face threw that idea out the window.

You burst out laughing, placing your hand on his shoulder to keep you stable.

“Very funny.” He grumbled, stepping forward and closing the door behind him.

“I thought so.” You snickered.

He rolled his eyes and took your hand, guiding you towards the front door of the house.

~✩~

After what felt like an eternity, Quinn put the car into park and shut it off.

“You excited?” He asked, picking up his phone.

You smiled, “I am. I’ve never been to a country concert.”

Quinn’s music taste had influenced yours over the past few months of living with him. While you considered your music taste versatile, he quickly proved you wrong when he snuck a Zach Bryan song into your playlist a few months ago.

“You’ll have a lot of fun, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?”

He flashed a smirk your way, “Then we can do that thing you wanted to do.”

Your eyes lit up, “You mean-?” Quinn cut you off with a laugh and nod.

Quinn exited the car, walking a lap around it to your door before he opened it for you.

Even though this was something he always did, you couldn’t help but feel that queasy feeling in your stomach every time he did.

He offered you his hand, which you gladly accepted as you hopped out the vehicle.

~✩~

So far, the concert had been amazing. You had been able to recognize a few of the songs that had been performed, so you were feeling pretty proud of yourself.

However, you weren’t able to keep your eyes off your boyfriend for pretty much the whole night.

The way he rocked on his heels and yelled out the lyrics when he knew them, all while keeping his hands around your waist. It was nice to see your normally nonchalant boyfriend being so carefree.

You hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring until another song started playing and the sound of Quinn’s monotone singing voice filled your ears.

Since you didn’t know the song, you just watched in admiration yet again as he swayed the two of you side to side as he sang his heart out.

Your longing gaze didn’t go unnoticed by Quinn, who, while still singing, caught your eyes. An even bigger smile formed on his face when you leaned up to place a short kiss on his cheek.

You stared ahead, looking up at the stage, while Quinn kept his eyes on you.

Now it was his turn to admire you. The way you clicked the heels of your boots to the beat as soon as you had it in your head. The way that smile on your face never left, even if you didn’t know the words. And most importantly, the way you kept your arms wrapped around yourself to hold his forearms.

The previous song came to a close, and a slower, more romantic song was now being performed. The sounds of screams filled the arena as the whole mood shifted.

Quinn leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder. His grip around your waist tightened as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“Having fun?” He whispered.

You turned your head slightly to look at him, “Yeah. Thanks for bringing me.”

He got closer, connecting your lips together. You brought a hand up to his hair, gripping it gently as if this would be your last kiss.

There was no doubt in your mind Quinn Hughes was the man for you.

And there was no doubt in Quinn’s mind you were the woman for him.

[sarabethsilver]

Jess and Rory were bound to fall apart in S3. They were two teenagers living in a crazy town that put ALL kinds of pressure on them, they were headed down very different paths, and Jess wasn't ready for a relationship at that point. They had to go their separate ways for a bit.

But what really makes them tragic? Is that all of the adults - and eventually Jess and Rory themselves - come to understand their relationship's demise as entirely Jess' fault. And this narrative is really bad for both of them.

We all know Jess' mistakes in this relationship. The show makes a point to blow them up and examine them thoroughly, often with multiple characters chiming in to talk about how terrible Jess is. A single missed phone call, concert tickets purchased for the wrong reason (??), a poorly-timed black eye, a fight with Dean, the fact he left town. All of these choices are discussed and framed as solely Jess' fault. Jess' behaviors get no context. It doesn't matter that he was working late, that Rory yelled at him throughout that dinner, that Dean threw the first punch, or that Luke kicked him out. S3 decidedly concludes with Rory, The Poor Victim and Jess, The Jerk Who Broke Her Heart. The show never re-examines this perspective.

But if you pause and examine Rory's choices throughout their relationship, she doesn't look that good. Their relationship starts with a lie: Rory kissing him, demanding he keep it secret, and then ghosting him for two months. She's really angry with him when she returns, having sincerely expected him to wait around for her while she continued to date Dean. She withdraws her friendship while Jess dates Shane. She yells at him in the street, joining the chorus of townsfolk who publicly dislike him. She eggs his car and mocks him about it. She runs away from their first real kiss with zero explanation. She scolds him for kissing her in public, prioritizing Dean's feelings over her boyfriend's. She lies about Dean repeatedly. She gives him the silent treatment after a single missed phone call. She tricks him into attending dinner with her grandma, then yells at him the whole time. She spends the entirety of Kyle's party mocking Jess while ignoring his increasingly desperate pleas to leave.

Does any of this make Rory a terrible person? No. She's a teenager, and she was in a really complicated, no-win situation concocted by her mother and a slew of Stars Hollow adults who are far too obsessed with the love lives of teenagers. Rory's a people-pleaser and she was desperate to spare everyone's feelings, unable to accept that by nature of this situation: somebody was gonna get hurt no matter what. But in trying to protect everyone, she ended up hurting Jess the most. She doesn't trust him, she doesn't prioritize his feelings, and she doesn't communicate with him. She ultimately follows along with the town narrative that Jess Ruined Everything.

The really sad thing is that this narrative is bad for both of them. Jess ends up feeling like the world's biggest failure, fleeing town without a word and ending up totally alone. Rory ends up feeling like a helpless victim, utterly lacking agency in her own relationships. She is told, over and over again, that her relationship problems were not her fault. That it's normal to sit back, make no effort, and expect to be treated like a princess by a guy who has to read her mind and do absolutely all the work. You can draw a straight line from Rory being Blameless in the Jess breakup, and Rory having an affair with her married ex a year later.

What I would give for an effort to re-examine their relationship toward the end of the series! It would have been good for both of them to understand that they were both kids, they both made mistakes, but they both tried their best. There were no villains here. Just two flawed humans who cared about each other and tried to have a relationship before they were truly ready.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Home Is Where The Heart Is (Vox x reader Fluffer w/ light angst)

Vox x Reader Rated: General Warnings: I accidently spilled a little angst on the fluff serving. Sorry? Summary: You're cooking dinner when your secret boyfriend comes home. Caught up in the moment, confessions are made and hearts are put on the line.

Come join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Hotel Discord server- You can Trust Us with your entertainment! Here's an Alastor themed Discord server as well

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

Humming in the kitchen, you danced around the sink as you listened absently to the televised concert. You had access to all the best channels, privilege granted by who your boyfriend was but that wasn’t why you were with him. You were with him, quite simply, because you loved him. You had loved him for a while, not that you dared to say it.

Sure he was powerful. Sure he had money. Sure he took care of you. He even kept you safe during the exterminations. 

But the most important part to you was that you loved him and he cared for you. 

That’s all there really was to it. 

Vox made a point to always walk into your apartment by the door. At least, whenever he was coming and going in any official sense. He was old fashioned in all the most romantic ways though you hadn’t expected it from the tech mogul.

There was a series of beeps as the pin code was entered into the door as your smile widened. With a flick to remove the extra water from the carrots you were washing, you set them aside quickly and snatched up a towel to dry your hands as you scurried toward the door.

“Welcome back,” You said as you threw your damp hands around Vox’s shoulders, smacking his screen with the towel on accident. 

“Hey,” he said simply, tension falling from his shoulders as he was enveloped in the daydream he had spent all day thinking about. You were his retreat. You were his shelter. “What have you been up to?” 

“Just starting dinner,” You answered, running your hands down his chest and smiling up at him. “Roast chicken tonight. Will you stay? Or are you just popping by?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Vox to stop by for a few minutes, half an hour or so when he was between meetings. You worked managing schedules from the comfort of your unit, another privilege granted by who you were dating, not that your peers knew that. 

He was a busy man and you could never count on how long he would be able to stay when he walked through your door. It helped that you could be counted on to always be home.

“Took the rest of the night off.” Vox smiled down at you, eyes bright. “I’m not due back until nine tomorrow.”

“Nine?!” You made a show of how scandalized the thought made you. It wasn’t the first time Vox had taken a large chunk of time off his schedule just for you but it wasn’t often at all that it would happen. “What will we do with fifteen whole hours?!” 

“For a start, we should make dinner,” Vox laughed as he leaned down, placing a static tinged kiss on your lips before stepping out of your arms. 

“Right,” you laughed as he let his clawed hands trailed over your skin as you stepped out of his reach. 

Vox stepped deeper into your apartment, slipping his jacket and vest off. You smiled at him over the counters as you took in the view of him. It was a sight few had gotten to see, Vox in blue slacks and a white button down shirt, sleeves uncuffed as he worked them up over his elbows. 

This was one of your favorite ways to see him, relaxed and having just came home from work. It was a look that left your heart beating hard and put daydreams about this being normal in your head. It was a close second to the way he looked late in the night or early in the morning, screen smudged and sleep clouding the picture on his screen, comfortable lounge clothes hanging off his lean frame. 

“See something you like?” Vox’s sly smile told you he had caught you checking him out. 

“Yep,” you answered shamelessly, there was no point in denying it. 

He laughed easily as he joined you in the kitchen. You went back to washing your vegetables. His arms wrapped around your waist as his front pressed against your back, bright screen casting a blue light over your work. 

“I see something I like too,” Vox’s voice was low in your ear.

“Oh?” You laughed, leaning into his arms, “You like potatoes do you?” 

“I do,” Vox’s arms reached around you, keeping you and your colander of potatoes trapped at the sink while he washed his hands as he continued, “But I like you more.” 

“You flirt,” You teased, ducking under his arms and setting to work chopping the vegetables to add to the roasting pan. “Keep talking like that and you’ll get a girl’s hopes up.”

Vox watched you for a moment, you could feel his eyes on your back as you kept your smile in place. It was a step too far. You knew the rules of the relationship. Off this floor of the tower, you were nothing to Vox. You were a secret. 

A resort of normalcy. 

Sure, you got to call him your boyfriend but to who? Him? Yourself? he called you his but never off this floor. Never anywhere that mattered. 

You loved him. You had realized it a while ago and that made the reality of your relationship hurt when it hadn’t before. It was worth it though. It was worth it for the nights like this a few times a week. 

It was worth it to get to hold him even if for a little while. 

You glanced at him as he started spreading oil over the chicken’s skin and covering it in seasonings. That was what you needed, him to give you a reason to break the weird silence in order to prevent him from ruining the roast. 

You watched as he slipped the pan into the oven, admiring the man that you had accidentally fell in love with. 

“Hey, Dollface?” Vox had a look on his face you couldn’t read and that scared you, “About what you said earlier? About-”

You forced a laugh as you looked away, busying yourself with cleaning up. Hopefully it looked natural, not showing how terrified you were. If you didn’t tell him how you felt, his weird pretend that you did a few times a week could continue and you could have him as your’s in the little world you made. 

“Look at me,” Vox’s clawed hand wrapped around your bicep, forcing you to face him. “What if a girl got her hopes up? What if a guy got his hopes up?”

“What are you-?” 

“What if we made this real?” Vox asked, not giving you a chance to think, breath or get your bearings. “What if we stopped hiding this little thing we got? What if we let it out into the world?” 

“Vox?” 

“I come here and it’s the best damn time of my week. We order dinner in and pretend we’re out. We sneak away in the offices and pretend we’re not hiding. Why are we hiding?” 

“We’re hiding because VoxTek is perfection and I’m not.” You need him to be sure. You couldn’t stand the idea of shattering that little thing between you that you kept safe in the confines of your apartment. 

“Who says you’re not?” Vox’s voice rose but he quickly schooled it as he stepped into your space, looking down at you. “You’re perfect in my eyes, Doll. I fucking love you and I don’t want to hide that.”

“I love you too.” 

[elvisslut]

Affairs and tears❥

// warnings for entire series- strong language, affairs (obviously), broken marriages, mentions of tom Parker (ew), smut (Elvis trying to get into readers pants, fingering, oral (m! And f! Receiving), handjobs, angry sex, angsty sex, back clawing, Elvis’s dick will probably bleed at some point, mentions of him fucking Priscilla(..no comment),moaning and ect.), fighting, yelling, punching things (not the reader elvis is NOT abusive)//

watching him move on stage with such a passion, and messing with the crowd an the band. It all made your feelings deepen, especially when he gave you attention on stage or off stage either way it made your heart throb with desire and desperation in a way.

You and Charlie sat in the room that lead to the stage warming up your vocals for the concert that was about to start. A slam on the door notioned that the boys were here. Elvis came tackling sonny into the room once the door was opened the others following close behind.

You softly smiled looking over at Elvis from the edge of your paper that had the lyrics on it. You put your attention back to the paper as Charlie got up and went to Elvis involving himself in whatever the guys were doing.

Quickly reading over the paper to get what you need, setting the paper down and getting up making your way to the door and towards the stage. You walked up set the water bottles up for everyone and positioned the microphones the way they needed.

"What'd ya doin'?" A very familiar southern accent bellowed from the steps of the stage, you look over and smile at Elvis as he made his way up and towards you.

"I'm just getting everything set up" you say looking back at the microphone that you were fixing. "Ain't that a job for the people that set up the stage?" He asks chuckling, his arm brushed against yours, you didn't know he'd made his way over here already but it felt nice even if it wasn't a genuine touch from him you simply felt like it was something.

Anything from him was something, a simple breath or gaze your way would have you falling in the floor.

"I suppose so yeah..but i like to do it..gives me something to do" you answer with a soft laugh. He nods and leans over to fix one of the inspirations microphones his hand presses against your exposed waist for balance. Your breath halts and your body almost stops.

Sure he's hugged you before and gave you some friendly touches that was before you knew how you felt about him. How you felt..for a married man..as a married woman. "How's Priscilla? I haven't seen her in a few days." You ask pulling yourself away from his touch subconsciously as you thought about Priscilla and Oliver.

"Shes good, bit busy watching lisa. How's..uhm..your husband?" He asks looking back at you with a light smile on his lips. "Oliver.. he's good, spending some time in North Dakota with his family. He'll be back in a few weeks." You say looking down and messing with your ring, which didn't go unnoticed.

"Ya missin' him?" He asks a slight frown crossing his features. You nod hesitantly, you didn't miss him. That was the problem, your husband whom you've been married to for a little over 5 years. You didn't miss, not one bit. You actually preferred him to stay in North Dakota. He didn't talk to you much there and you could spend more time around Elvis. Most of that time was spent with Charlie who you got real close with.

"Yeah..i miss cilla' and lisa a whole lot too." He says in a comforting tone. "Yeah its hard being away for so long" you look up at his eyes your breath being pushed out of your lungs as you see how blue they are, and how close they are.

"Yeah" he agrees, his eyes scan over your face stopping at your lips for a moment before you look away your cheeks rosey.

"So..whats..what do you plan on doing after the show?" You ask nervously. You probably just missed your chance to kiss Elvis, but it was definitely for the best.

"Its 'bout time to so i best head back.. ill..talk to ya later y/n" he says before leaving back to the side of the stage. If there's anymore moments like that one. You know this will be hard, you know you won't be able to control yourself the next time it happens.

The only problem was, oliver and Priscilla..

[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part three

Warnings: mentions of heartbreak, mentions of cheating (not on reader), slight angst, mostly fluff

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader

Summary: You and Eddie open up to your friends about your feelings for each other and have your first real concert.

Series masterlist

Chapter three

-

“What about you, Eddie?” you ask as you look at him in curiosity. It’s been minutes since either of you have said anything, he seemed to be deep in thought about something ever since you talked about the meaning behind your song. 

“Hmm?” 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

He furrows his brows and even in the darkness, you can see the confusion in his eyes, like he doesn’t know what to tell you. 

He shrugs, “I-I don’t know,” he whispers, “I thought I was but the way you describe love, it doesn’t feel like I ever was.” 

You raise your brows, digging your palms further into the sand, “I mean we all have a different interpretation of love,” you shrug. 

“No– no, the way you describe it, it just makes sense.” 

You clear your throat, you turn your whole body towards him and look into his eyes, “to be honest, I think that there’s three different types of love in our lifetime.” 

He tilts his head, “yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “first love; you think, that they are your person, it's the first time you love someone romantically, or at least you think you do. You think that they will be with you forever, you grow together but then you also drift apart as you get older and you end up going separate ways– maybe you weren’t even with them when you loved them and they broke your heart some other way, by being with someone else for example.” 

Eddie nods, understanding flashing in his eyes. Something in the look on his face, tells you that he might have experienced this before. 

“What’s the second love?” he asks. 

“That’s the kind of love that hurts,” you say softly, “this one, you love with all your heart, that’s the first time you are truly in love, lots of emotional rollercoasters. You experience a lot of highs and lows with this person but they are the ones you wanna be with but this one is also the one that ends in a soul crushing heartbreak. Some type of betrayal breaks you apart– whether it comes from you or them.” 

Sadness takes over his features at your words. 

“And the third love is just the one that lasts. It’s that one that heals all your pain, the one that will be there forever, the one that will always grow stronger. At least.. that's what people say.” 

He nods with a slight frown on his face. You stare at each other and you try to figure him out, you try to see into his soul, to read his mind but you can’t. The only thing that you can see in his eyes is guilt. 

He blinks, sighing, he starts playing with the rings on his fingers as he continues to look at you. 

For a moment neither of you speak. The only sound you can hear are the crashing waves. The wind picks up a little, the coldness of it kissing your skin, placing your hands on your bare arms, you shiver a little. Eddie notices it and quickly takes his flannel off, “here,” he whispers as he moves closer to you.

“No, you’re gonna be cold–” 

“I don’t want you to be cold, Sweetheart,” he whispers with a soft smile on his face. 

For a moment, you are face to face as he throws the flannel over your shoulders. Your breath hitches in your throat when he looks into your eyes again, not moving back just yet. His hand lingers on your shoulder and for a fleeting moment, he stares at your lips with lust in his eyes, you don’t know that it takes everything in him not to kiss you, not to touch your lips with his, not to feel you the way he wants you. 

He backs away and clears his throat as he settles back on the sand again. 

Eddie wants you. He wants you like he never wanted anyone else before, not even her. His heart flutters when he watches you put his flannel on properly, nuzzling your nose into the soft material. 

“D-Do you think that your second love can also be your third?” he asks with a sliver of hope in his eyes. 

You bring your knees up to your chest, ignoring the feeling you just had when he was so close to you. For a moment you think about his question. 

“I uh.. I mean yeah... I think so. If it's meant to be."

He nods, swallowing as his heart skips a beat. 

Maybe, there’s a chance for him with you but he needs to tell you the truth, he has to. 

You give him a small smile. 

You deserve to know the truth. He knows that he should tell you before it’s too late. There is something between you already, he can feel it and he knows you feel it too. 

“I uh.. I–” he pauses, running his hand through his hair, he takes a deep breath as he grows nervous, “I have to tell you something.” 

Your eyebrows draw together, you tilt your head in question, “what’s up?” 

He blinks, his breathing quickens and he feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest, “I-I have a–” god, he can’t do it. Not when you look at him with those soft and concerning eyes of yours, “I’m hungry,” he blurts out. 

Your features contort into amusement and you laugh as you hit his chest lightly, “that’s what you’re so nervous about?” 

A breathy laugh leaves his lips and he shakes his head, “I-I always get hungry when I smoke weed,” he snorts. 

“Me too,” you chuckle, getting up, you stretch your hand out for him. 

He stares at you in confusion. 

“Let’s go get some food,” you grin. 

A smile tugs at his lips and he places his hand in yours as he gets up. 

“Where are we going?”

“There’s this diner I always go to. They have the best pancakes in the city.” 

Eddie chuckles, still holding onto your hand as you walk through the sand, “do they have waffles?” 

You nod, grinning up at him as you tighten your grip on his hand, unaware of the butterflies in his stomach. 

“The best waffles.” 

He smiles down at you with a happy look in his eyes as he goes a step further and intertwines his fingers with yours. You blush underneath his gaze and turn away from him. 

The night at the beach changed something between you and Eddie, your bond grew even stronger. Apparently your view on love inspired him to finish the song you were still working on and after that, you finally went into the studio this week and started recording the album. 5 out of 12 songs were already recorded and Jeff even took some potential cover photos already. 

All the band practice and the time at the studio took away your free time with your friends but you finally had a night off and used the opportunity to invite them over.

A few drinks in, you found yourself laying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling as you listened to Wren’s latest gossip. 

“I swear, she was all over him, just pushed her tits into his face, it was disgusting!” she exclaims, talking about her ex boyfriend and his new girl. 

“I wouldn’t mind having tits in my face,” Jamie chuckles as she places the joint between her red lips, putting her brown hair up into a bun, she gives you a wink as she finds you looking at her, “especially yours, babe,” she winks, green eyes glinting with playfulness. 

You snort, sitting up, you place your hands on the soft carpet and lean back, “shut up, Jamie,” you mumble with a grin on your face. 

Wren rolls her eyes as she looks between you two, “of course you’d like to have someone's boobs in your face, you’re gay,” she chuckles, throwing a pillow at Jamie who easily swats it away. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have some boobies in your face,” you smirk as you lean over to reach for the plate with the grapes on your small table. 

“That’s very gay of you, y/n,” Frankie smirks as she walks back into the living room with a new bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of chips in the other, “didn’t know you were into girls.” 

Jamie chuckles, “I wish she was,” she smirks, giving you a playful pout, “but she is into that guy,” she chuckles as she reaches for one of your new polaroids on the table, holding it in front of Frankie’s face as she kneels down next to her, a grin appears on her face as she places the stuff on the table before she reaches for the picture. 

“Huh?” Wren mumbles, “what picture?” 

She crawls over to her friends, placing her hands on Jamie’s shoulder. She looks at the picture with a confused look on her face but it turns into an exciting one, “oh my god, when did you take that?” she asks, “wait who took that?” 

Jeff took the picture of you and Eddie before your first gig with Corroded Coffin. Eddie calmed you down and distracted you by playing your favorite song for you as you sat on the floor backstage. You were looking at him with a smile on your face and he was looking back at you with an even bigger smile. 

You were freaking out about singing in front of a crowd– a crowd that already consistent of their fans, something that made you feel even more nervous. 

They already had a fanbase and you weren’t sure how they would react to a completely unknown singer joining the band. Eddie and the others tried their best to calm you down but it wasn’t easy when there were so many people waiting for them– not you. 

Eddie gave you the best introduction though, hyping you up to the max before he ran towards you and grabbed your hand, introducing you as the rising star of the band. 

A smile appears on your face as you remember the way he pulled you in his arms when he got the call that the label wanted to record the album. 

“This is all thanks to you,” he whispered in your ear when he held you tightly in his arms, “I– we wouldn’t have made it without you.” 

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t feel your heart flutter like crazy when you felt his touch, when his lips brushed against your skin as he whispered, ‘thank you, Sweetheart.’ 

“Don’t have to thank me, Eddie,” you whispered as you pulled back to look into his eyes, “we worked on this together.” 

He shook his head and smiled, hands reaching out to cup your cheeks, “I would have never made these songs better by myself, I would have packed my shit and gone back home at some point.” 

“No, you’re too stubborn and too determined to give up your dreams,” you chuckled. You ignored the way it felt to feel his hands on your cheeks, the way it felt to have him look at you the way he did.

He chuckled, “I’d have no choice– we’d have no choice. You saved us, accept it.” 

You laughed at his words and admired his smile and the way his eyes shone with so much happiness and excitement. His eyes flickered down to your lips, his thumb brushed against your cheekbone, “you made us better,” he whispered as his eyes met yours again, “you make everything better.” 

“Oh, look at her,” Frankie giggles as she notices the smile on your face, “she is–”

You interrupt her, answering Wren’s question, “Jeff took the picture!” 

Frankie and Jamie laugh as they notice you trying to change the topic. 

Wren’s brown eyes go wide, “Jeff? He’s so cute!” 

You raise your brows, smirking at your childhood friend, “cute huh?” 

Unlike you, who tries everything to hide the embarrassment and the blush on your face, she smirks and nods, “yes, cute.” 

“Don’t try to change the topic now, babe,” Jamie grins, leaning back against your couch, she snatches the picture out of Wren’s hand, “tell me, what’s going on between you two?” she asks, “and don’t say nothing! I’ve known you all my life and I have never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him– and that already happened that night at the karaoke bar.” 

“Mhmm,” Frankie nods, smirking at you as she remembers seeing you and Eddie talking at the bar totally not flirting. 

Running your hand through your hair, you roll your eyes, unable to hide the smile on your face, “I swear there’s nothing, we’re friends.” 

Your friends all scoff and groan at your words. 

“Honey, friends don’t look at each other that way and I’m not just talking about you,” Wren teases, “he practically has heart eyes here.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest but you ignore it, “no, he doesn’t!” you scoff, shaking your head, acting as though you don’t want it to be true. 

“Oh, yes he does,” Frankie nods, her red curls bouncing as she moves her head, “and I totally get it, who wouldn’t have heart eyes for our sexy little rockstar,” she grins as she moves towards you, pulling you into her arms, she places a sloppy kiss on your cheek. 

“Oh my god,” you giggle as you push her away, “stop!” 

“No but seriously, how do you feel about him?” Wren asks with a soft yet serious expression on her face, excitement lingering in her eyes. 

She probably has been waiting for this moment all her life, for you to fall for someone. It never happened before and it made her frustrated. She is a hopeless romantic who has been trying to set you up on dates– but you never liked them, not the dates and not the men. 

All the playfulness is gone the moment all your friends grow quiet, waiting for you to give them a real and genuine answer. 

You sigh, looking down at your hands, you play with the rings on your fingers. 

How do you feel? You don’t know. All you know is that you feel safe with him, giddy– even though you don’t really show it to him but Eddie makes you feel something no one has ever made you feel before.

When you are with him, when you feel his arms around you, when you look into his eyes, when you sing together, it feels like you are one, like two halves that make a whole. 

You shrug, “I don’t know– I don’t want to think too much into it. We’re gonna record on album, we’re having all these gigs, we’re gonna perform in front of larger crowds soon and… with how good these guys are, I’m pretty sure, we’ll go on tour at some point and I don’t want to have any feelings getting in the way,” you pause as you look up at them, “I-I like him, he’s– Eddie is special, makes me feel like I’m on top of the world or some shit, I forget everything when I’m around him, even when we’re on stage around a bunch of people,” you chuckle, closing your eyes as you shake your head, “but that’s all, I wanna keep it professional.”

Your friends all stay quiet for a moment, staring at you with unreadable looks on their faces. 

“He makes me happy,” you add with a whisper. 

Wren smiles at you and so does Frankie but Jamie raises her brows at you, snorting, “feelings huh?” 

“W-What?” 

“You said you don’t want any feelings getting in the way, meaning there are some already–”

“Oh y/n, you are so fucked,” Frankie chuckles next to you. 

-

On the other side of town, Eddie is sitting out on the patio, looking at the pictures that Jeff printed earlier. He reaches for the one with you on it– just you. Standing behind the drums, you hold Eddie’s guitar in your hands, smiling into the camera as you hug his sweetheart to your chest. 

A smile tugs at his lips, his heart flutters in his chest. 

Eddie never liked having others touch his things– especially his guitar but he doesn’t mind sharing things with you. 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” 

Startled, Eddie turns around to see Jeff standing behind him with two beers in his hands. He walks around the table, sitting down across from him, he pushes one of the beers towards him. 

Eddie blushes and looks away from his friend, “she is,” he whispers. 

Jeff smiles a little but he can see the guilt in Eddie’s eyes, it’s understandable. 

“But you have a girlfriend,” Jeff points out. 

Eddie sighs, nodding, “I know.” 

He feels guilt– the kind that feels as though it's eating at him from the inside. He left a girl behind, planning to reunite with her but he is not even sure if he wants it anymore. Their relationship is basically nonexistent at this point. 

He was sad when he left her in Hawkins, he begged her to come with him to California but she refused to leave her life behind, begging him to stay there to follow ‘realistic dreams’. 

Chrissy wants different things than he does. She wants a quiet life. She wants to get married, have kids, a house– stability. 

Eddie wants to make music, to sing in front of large crowds and see the world. 

He promised to make things work, even with all their differences but he isn’t sure if they will actually work out, especially with how many things have changed the past few months. 

Their phone calls got shorter and less genuine. She didn’t seem as excited to talk to him as before. All she ever did was complain about the distance and begged him to come back home. 

And it’s not just that, his feelings have changed. 

He found you. 

“You don’t seem very happy about that,” Jeff mumbles. 

He shrugs and places the photo back on the table before he grabs his beer, drinking from the cold bottle. 

“It’s just weird with the distance, I haven’t seen her in almost a year,” he mumbles. 

Jeff sighs, shaking his head, “I don’t think that feelings change when you truly love someone,” he pauses, “even if you don't see them all the time, hell, even if you don’t ever see them again.” 

Eddie blinks, nodding at his words, “that’s how it should be with your person,” he mumbles, “I know that.” 

Jeff furrows his brows, “so what? She isn’t your person then?” he asks. 

Eddie stares at him, trying to figure out what he is getting at. He doesn’t look or sound angry, he is just curious.

He isn’t the type to open up, to talk about his feelings but he needs help. 

“I honestly never really believed in things like that– having your person or a soulmate or something,” but things have changed, ever since that night at the beach with you, his view and feelings on certain things have changed. There’s more than just crushes and simple relationships and he realized it because of you, “but I see things differently now a-and.. I don’t think that she is my person– she is just my girlfriend.” 

Jeff raises his eyebrows in surprise, staring at his friend, he almost struggles to believe that those words just left his lips. Eddie used to be obsessed with Chrissy, at least that’s what it seemed like. He always had a crush on her, staring at her any chance he got, he never really found the courage to talk to her though. The girl had eyes for another boy, Jason Carver but when their relationship ended abruptly, she suddenly found comfort in Eddie when she finally started paying attention to him after a drug deal. 

"I mean, let's be real- Chrissy never really loved me, I'm not her person. She was just happy to have someone after she broke up with Jason."

Jeff notices the way he looks at your picture with a glint in his eyes, one that he has never seen before, not even when he looked at Chrissy.

“Please don’t tell y/n about her.” 

“Wait what?” Jeff asks in shock. 

“Don’t tell her about Chrissy.” 

Jeff shakes his head, staring at him in confusion, “s-she doesn’t know about her? You’ve known each other for months and you haven’t told her about your girlfriend?” he scoffs as he suddenly grows angry. 

Eddie’s brown eyes are filled with guilt and regret as he finally looks into his eyes, “she can’t know about her!”

“W-Why not?”

He doesn’t want you to know because it would change things between you and he doesn’t want that. 

Running his fingers through his curls, he closes his eyes, shaking his head, “I just don’t want her to know.” 

“Are you cheating on Chrissy with her?” 

“No!” Eddie exclaims, “I would never do that!” 

Jeff shrugs, “but you have feelings for her? It’s just as bad.”

“No, it’s not like that,” he lies. 

“What is it then?” he asks as realization flashes in his eyes, “you’re not using her for the songs, are you?” 

“What?” Eddie asks with wide eyes, “no! I would never do this to her, I wanted her in the band because she’s fucking amazing–”

“So you do have feelings for her?” Jeff asks, interrupting him. 

Yes, he does. How could he not have feelings for you? 

Burying his face in his hands, Eddie already feels like crying when he thinks about all the chaos that will ensue when you find out about Chrissy or when she finds out about you. Either way, he will hurt both of you and it’s not something that he ever wanted to do. 

Jeff can see the inner turmoil that Eddie is experiencing right now and as messed up as the situation is, he can’t help but feel bad for his friend. Chrissy was nothing but a crush and a first love experience– if he can even call it that. Watching them together always felt like watching a couple that was forced together. She was never interested in his hobbies and he wasn’t interested in her hobbies but unlike her, he always showed up for her cheer performances, he always let her put on her favorite songs, he always let her pick out the movies for movie night, he did things for her but she never wanted to do things for him. On a special occasion she would show up at the hideout to watch them play but instead of doing that, she sat at the bar and chatted away with the bartender. 

Jeff is convinced that Chrissy never even loved Eddie, that she only dated him to spite Jason and her parents. He expected her to break his heart and leave him after some time but it hasn’t happened– at least not yet. 

Jeff could tell that he loved her, that he had feelings for her but they seemed to have disappeared ever since you stepped into his life and unlike Chrissy, you made him happy. 

Around her, he was happy once too, for a while at least. 

You are different, you were different from the start. You made him happy in a way no one else could and if things were different, then maybe you could have been together but there are just so many things standing in the way. 

“Listen man, I get it,” Jeff sighs, “she’s amazing but even if it wasn’t for Chrissy it would still be a bad idea to get involved with her in that way. You’re bandmates, what if it won’t work out? The band will fall apart– no matter how professional you both are, no matter how you would handle it, it would fall apart.” 

He can’t be with you, he can never be with you and he knows it and it breaks his heart. 

Eddie nods, blinking the tears away, he looks at his friend with a sad smile on his face, “I know,” he whispers as he gets up, looking up into the evening sky, he takes a deep breath, thinking of you and what you are up to right now. He looks back down, staring at the pictures again, he reaches for the one of you and him, “I like this one,” he says, “for the album cover I mean,” he explains as he looks into his friend’s eyes. 

“Cool,” he smiles, “cause it’s my favorite one too.” 

He nods and looks back down at the picture with a longing gaze in his eyes. There is something between you, he can feel it deep in his heart and in his soul but you can never be together so he tears his eyes away and without another word, he grabs his cigarettes and his beer and walks away. 

-

The weeks after that night flew by. The album was recorded. The crowds at your concerts got bigger and the people loved you but it’s no surprise to Eddie, he knew that they would. 

He tried his best to distance himself from you but he just can’t. How can he when you are the only thing that makes him feel like he actually means something in this world? 

He feels this pull towards you, one that he can’t and doesn’t want to fight. It feels natural to be around you, he doesn’t have to pretend when he is with you, he can just be himself. 

He can talk about things with you, he would never tell anyone else. Your conversations are deep and he seems to learn more things about himself through you. You are showing him different sides of life, different sides of feelings and love. 

He doesn’t touch you– you aren’t his to touch and he isn’t yours to touch, even when you own a piece of his heart already. 

The only time he allows himself to feel something is when you are on stage. He doesn’t shy away from it, he shows his feelings for you through his songs, through the way he sings, through the way he looks at you and the way he touches you– even when it’s only fleeting touches. 

On stage, he can do whatever he wants, knowing that everyone will think that it’s only for show. 

“I’m so nervous,” you mumble.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Eddie glances up at you, a small smile appearing on his face as he watches you pace back and forth, playing with the rings on your fingers as you take deep breaths. 

You’ve had gigs around Los Angeles but this is your first big concert, you got invited to play at a music festival, to say that you are nervous is an understatement– you are freaking out. 

Eddie gets up, walking towards you, he places his hands on your arms, stopping you. Speaking your name softly, a breathy laugh falls from his lips, “hey…. it’s gonna be okay,” he whispers, rubbing your arms gently. 

You look up at him with big eyes and he almost melts right then and there. 

“There��s so many people, Eddie,” you whisper as you feel yourself getting even more nervous as you hear all the cheers for the opening act, “I’m gonna suck!”

Eddie shakes his head, chuckling a little, “you never suck, you know that. They’re gonna love you.”

Your gaze softens at his words. 

“But what if I’m gonna suck tonight?” you ask with a shaky voice. 

He shakes his head, “you won’t but hey, I’m nervous too.”

You chuckle, staring at him with a soft smile on your face, you shake your head. 

If he’s nervous then you can’t tell. He looks as relaxed as always and he looks good, way too good. He is wearing a black tank top underneath his leather vest, his hair seems to be curlier than usual, his eyes twinkle with excitement. Eddie makes your heart flutter. 

“You don’t look nervous,” you point out. 

“You don’t believe me?” he asks with a pout on his face. 

“No,” you chuckle. 

Letting go of your arm, he reaches for your hand and raises it to place it on his chest so you can feel his racing heart. 

Your eyes widen, breath hitching in your throat at such a simple gesture. 

He looks deeply into your eyes and smiles, “can you feel that?” he asks. 

His heart is racing in his chest, just as much as yours is. 

You nod, “you are nervous.” 

“I am,” he whispers. 

But it’s not for the reasons you think. He isn’t nervous about the concert. He isn’t nervous about singing in front of such a large crowd, in fact, he isn’t nervous at all. 

You just make his heart race like crazy. 

You blink as you stare into his eyes, it’s so easy to get lost in them. 

You don’t know that Eddie feels the same way about you. He stares into your eyes the same way you stare into his, though you don’t know that there’s a difference in the way you look at each other. 

While there’s nothing but adoration, excitement and happiness in yours. 

There is so much more in his, good and bad. There is love and there is also guilt and fear, so much of it. 

“Hey kids, you ready to go on stage?” 

You and Eddie snap out of your little trance, clearing your throat, you take a step away from him and let go of his hand. Turning towards the older man, your eyes light up, “you made it!” 

“I did,” Sam smiles, walking towards you to greet you with a hug, “wouldn’t miss your first big concert.” 

“That actually only makes me more nervous,” you chuckle, pulling away from the hug. 

“Oh, do you want me to leave?” he jokes, pointing to the door he just came through. 

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head. 

Eddie watches you both with a smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, he stares at you. Gareth comes up next to him again, throwing his arm around his shoulder, “they’re gonna love you,” he mocks him with a smirk on his face, “just like you do, huh?”

Eddie’s smile falls from his face, turning to look at his friend, he glares at him, “Gareth,” he mumbles. 

Gareth moves back, raising his hands up, “hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. Unlike Jeff, I don’t see a problem with that. Your girlfriend doesn’t deserve you anyway– she probably ran back to Carver already.” 

Eddie frowns at his words, glancing at you to see if you heard anything but you are too deep into your conversation with Sam. 

“But maybe you should break up first,” he shrugs as he plays around with his drumsticks. 

Break up. 

Yeah, he should break up with her but then he would break a promise and Eddie was never one to break a promise. 

“I knew I would see you on a big stage someday,” Sam smiles at you, “can’t believe that this guy was the one to convince you though,” he chuckles, pointing to Eddie, who looks down at the ground with a frown on his face. 

You furrow your brows, you know that look on his face but you can’t figure out what it means. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

“Did you know that they are talking about the album on the radio?” 

You nod, the smile reappearing on your face as excitement bubbles inside of you, “yes! They played one of our songs when I was driving home the other night, I swear I almost crashed my car from how excited I was,” you chuckle, thinking it’s funny but Sam frowns at your words. 

“You better be joking, kid.”

“I am,” you snort, shaking your head. 

“Good,” he sighs, looking over your shoulder, he watches the opening act leaving the stage, giving their last ‘goodbye’s’ and ‘thank you’s’ to the crowd. Sam smiles at you, “you’re up, y/n.” 

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, digging your nails into your palms, you look around to see the guys getting ready. Eddie walks towards you with a smile on his face. 

“You’ll do amazing, kiddo,” Sam smiles, squeezing your shoulder before he steps away. 

“Yes, you will,” Eddie whispers in your ear as he comes up behind you. A shiver runs down your spine as he grabs your arms again. Feeling the warmth of his body, his breath on your shoulder and his hands on your bare skin makes you feel both calm and nervous at the same time, “time to shine, baby.” 

You gasp a little, turning around, you look at him with wide eyes causing him to smirk when he sees the effect he has on you with just one word and a simple touch. 

He leans down, pushing your hair behind your shoulder, his fingertips graze your skin, “let’s go be rockstars,” he whispers as his lips touch your earlobe and he feels the urge to kiss your cheek but he moves back instead. 

You are speechless for a second. 

Jeff watches you both from the side, shaking his head at his friend’s actions, he sighs. He can tell that you like him and he can already sense your heartbreak when you find out about Eddie’s relationship. 

Holding his guitar in one hand, Eddie reaches for your hand with his free one. Pulling you along with him on stage as he gives you one last smile as he nods at his friends behind you. 

The moment you are out there, the crowd goes wild, cheering as they finally see you. Your heart begins to race and you can already feel the adrenaline pumping in your veins. Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours, rubbing circles on your skin, he gives you a reassuring squeeze before he lets go of you. 

With shaky legs, you make your way towards your microphone, staring at the crowd, trying not to show how nervous you really are. You grab the mic tightly in your hand, watching Eddie with a smile on your face as he greets the crowd, causing them to get even louder. 

You grin, looking back at Gareth, he gives you a nod, looking around the large crowd in excitement. 

You look back at Eddie, who already stares at you as the band starts to play, he smiles, eyes flashing with so much happiness and gratitude, he mouths, ‘you got this’ to you before he turns back to the crowd. 

The moments before the concert and the first few minutes on stage must have been the worst but everything else was just perfect. The moment you started to sing, you forgot about everything around you. You forgot how nervous you felt, you forgot the thousands of people, you forgot the stage fear. 

All that mattered was this magical moment. 

And when you felt Eddie’s touch, it was even more magical. At one point, you used one mic to sing, leaning his forehead against yours, he basically nuzzled his noses with you as you both sang your hearts out. 

The crowd went wild at the closeness and the affection between you. 

You and Eddie smiled at each other when you heard them. 

They love you and you made it, knowing that this was only the beginning. 

Leaving the stage was much more difficult than getting on it. You quickly grew addicted to this feeling, wanting to sing more and more until you can’t do it anymore, until your knees grow weak, until your lungs can’t take it anymore, until you pass out from exhaustion. The feeling was indescribable, you were convinced that nothing could beat it but your moment with Eddie backstage did. 

Eddie holds your hands tightly in his as you jump around like little kids. All the excitement was far from wearing off and you are grinning and smiling at each other. 

“That was amazing!” you beam, giggling. 

“Most metal ever!” he exclaims as he tugs you closer to him. 

You crash into his chest with a laugh. You are both sweaty, pumped on adrenaline and happiness. 

“We made it, Eddie! Did you see them? They loved us!” 

The look in your eyes makes it all even better, the smile on your face and the way you lean into his touch so naturally. 

His gaze softens, cupping your cheeks, he smiles, “they loved you, they never cheered like that for us, this is all for you, Sweetheart.” 

You shake your head, “no, no–”

Eddie cuts you off, leaning down, his eyes flicker down to your lips and for a second, you think he is gonna kiss you with the way he looks at you but instead he presses his lips to your forehead, giving you a kiss and even that is enough to make your heart flutter. 

You close your eyes, placing your hands on his chest, you lean into him. 

Eddie savors this moment, heart longing for so much more than just this but he can’t. 

He hugs you afterwards, holding you in his arms the way he never has before and it feels so good, so natural, like this is the only thing he is meant to do, to be with you. 

-

Back in Hawkins, Steve and Robin are working the late shift. It’s a Tuesday night, no customers are at family video right now. Robin is sitting on the counter, flipping through a magazine she got this morning. 

Steve is flipping through the radio channels with an annoyed look on his face, “why is it all just Madonna?” 

“I thought you liked Madonna,” Robin mumbles as she looks up from the magazine with a confused look on her face. 

He turns around to look at her, “I lied, Robin,” he mumbles. 

“What? Why?” 

“Because you were emotional! I didn’t want to tell you that I hate your favorite singer,” he exclaims. 

She snorts, “oh but what if I’m emotional right now?” she grins. 

“You wouldn’t grin if you were,” he points out as he flips to the next channel. His eyes widen when he recognizes Eddie’s voice, “o-oh my god! Robin! That’s Eddie! Corroded Coffin!” he almost shouted excitedly as he jumped up, bringing both hands up to his face, “they are on the radio!”  

“Turn it up!” she yells, “louder!” 

He does and turns to look at Robin with a grin on his face, “holy shit!”

She nods, eyes flashing with surprise, “holy shit, indeed.”

“They’re actually good,” Steve mumbles. 

Robin smirks as she looks back down at the magazine, flipping over to a certain page, she turns it around, “they’re good, thanks to this babe.” 

Steve reaches for the magazine, lips parting in surprise when he sees you next to Eddie in the studio, “that’s y/n?” he mumbles. 

He has heard about you– in fact, he heard a lot about you. Every single one of his phone calls with Eddie, ended with him ranting away about you and how talented and amazing you are but he never told you how utterly attractive you are. 

“Wow,” he whispers. 

“Don’t start drooling, dingus.”

“She is…. She is so–”

“Who is she?!” A shriek cuts him off, startling both him and Robin, who turn around to see Chrissy standing there with a scowl on her face as she holds the same exact magazine in her hand, pointing to the picture of her boyfriend nuzzling noses with another girl. 

-

Taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @cry-for-u @mysticmunson @tvserie-s-world @eddielives1986 @1paire2vans @poisonedluv @sherrylyn628 @aysheashea @kaitebugg03 @lma1986 @aftermidnightwriting @livelaughlove-mhm @miarosso @novelnovella @magenta-moon @strawberries-n-lavender @bibieddiesgf @michaelfuckinglangdon

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

So I Spied Another Day...

You know it was a good show when you can’t decide whether your heart is so full from all the love and joy, or so empty because it's over.

Really do buckle up, because this is a long one.

So the show went a little like this. They played the Spies pro-shoot on a giant movie screen, but any time a song started, the audio changed to the instrumental track, the video typically faded to simple background graphics, and the cast came out to perform the number live in concert style. There were also a series of audience participation prompts up on the movie screen, such as standing to deliver a line in unison, giving Lauren a standing ovation for the Pay Attention! Reprise, enthusiastically booing Dr. Baron von Nazi and the still infuriatingly catchy Not So Bad (for anyone who’s curious, in addition to encouraging boos and yelled disagreements with von Nazi, they also cut the audience participation bit from the song).

The energy in the room was so electric and full of joy and warmth. People shouted out iconic lines, went wild for everyone’s entrances, and absolutely lost their damn minds over Curtwen at pretty much every opportunity. And the cast were clearly having just as much fun. Doing This has always been my favorite, and there was something so sweet about them singing it again all these years later. We finally got Joey performing Spies Are Forever (Evil Reprise) again and it was just as chilling and beautiful as you’d expect. And One Step Ahead was just on a whole new level. I don’t want to give anything away, but the details in that performance were INCREDIBLE.

It was simply so special seeing most of the original gang come back while also bringing some new friends along. Shout out to Mariah for coming out at the top of the show so ready to play, setting the tone for the whole evening. Shout out to James for putting his comedy chops on full display (LET JAMES BE FUNNY MORE) and dancing the hell out of One More Shot (another favorite number). And shoutout to Carlos Alazraqui (taking over the roles of Sergio and Vladimir Poopin) and Tommy Link for coming into this crazy part of our world with such enthusiasm and silliness. Brian deserves a medal for agreeing to once again play the most cringe-worthy character in all of Pulp-StarCanWrecked history, and for sounding so fucking good while doing it. Tessa was having a blast in full unhinged glory and I gladly worship at her altar. Lauren is maybe the funniest person alive and deserved her standing ovation, prompted or not. Seeing Joe Walker perform live has been Item Number One on my fandom bucket list since I moved to LA a couple of years ago, and I still can’t quite believe I managed it. I’d wondered if he’d be rusty, but honestly he sounded great; it was like no time had passed. Mary Kate still has one of my all-time favorite voices and her Tatiana remains forever engaging. Joey showed up dressed to slay as a gay evil genius Bond-movie supervillain and proceeded to thoroughly deliver on that promise. And Curt… every time I watch Spies I am increasingly blown away by what he does with this arrogant, broken mess of a character. He clearly loves Agent Mega as much as any of us, and to see a performance refined and powered by such clear and thoughtful passion is just a huge treat.

(And while he wasn’t in the cast, I can’t not mention Corey. Between his roles as director and co-writer, so much of what Spies is comes directly from him and we don’t appreciate that nearly enough. And shout out to Esther Fallick for her wonderful work as Susan and the Informant. She might not have been there in person, but her incredible performance was with us the whole time.)

I know this is preaching to the choir, but Spies Are Forever really is such a special show. It’s a story about recovery, and devastating as it can be, I think there’s also something deeply healing about it at its core. For one thing, I know it played a huge role in mending my relationship with my asexuality. I will forever be grateful to it for existing, to TCB, Talkfine, and the original cast for creating it, and to those same people for maintaining its legacy with the amount of love and care it deserves. It was a privilege to be in the room as so many people came to celebrate this miraculous little musical. There were a couple of minor tech glitches (I wonder if they’ll even include the “big one”—the projector jumping over most of the staircase scene before getting fixed—in the digital ticket version), but nothing that could even begin to damper the magic of the night.

We all know that spies never die (except for Owen and the Informant, oops). And at times like this concert, I think this special little show with its short run in 2016 will prove to be just as immortal.

[yeonmuse]

TWO- FACED | DAY 4

PAIRING solo artist Jacob x fangirl reader

WORD COUNT

GENRE Smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ tit fucking, oral fixation, spitting, he owns your tits, pet names like sweetheart, honey, & bun, finger sucking, hair pulling

SUMMARY Meeting you once again the day after his concert, Jacob can’t help but realize how different you are from the night before, but he can’t deny he finds both sides of you attractive.

MORE | Day four of the Groupie Love Series

You had just had the time of your life and you were more than sure the next morning you’d be hating yourself for having screamed your voice away. You had just finished singing your heart out at a concert you had been preparing for since the year prior. Now you stood outside amongst the crowd, the very first person at the barricade awaiting the man himself to make his exit. Usually when it came to this you had never been lucky enough to be this close to the barricade, you would always end up somewhere in the middle or in the back practically hidden away from his view, but tonight you sacrificed hearing the last song on the setlist just to be the first to touch the barricade. Needless to say your choice was completely worth it.

He stepped from the building with a smile on his face, that smile that always made your heart melt the moment you set eyes upon it. Jacob bae was an absolute Ace when it came to the music industry, good at everything singing, playing guitar, piano, drums and on top of that he looked as if the gods themself had hand delivered him to earth.

“Looks like you’re first up.” He stepped in front of you before anyone else, giving you that smile that you could have sworn had made your heart stop the moment he stepped in front of you. You found yourself speaking before you could think and boy did you wish you had never opened your mouth.

“Can you sign my tits?” At your request Jacobs brows immediately perked up in amusement.

“Come here.” Was all he said, and frankly that was all it took for you to immediately lean into him. Your gaze was glued to him taking in his every movement. From the way he opened the marker with his teeth to the way he so effortlessly wrote his name on your chest as if he were claiming you. As he backed away you caught a whiff of his scent which almost instantaneously threw you into a daze. Once again you opened your mouth to speak allowing your intrusive thoughts to get the best of you. Oh how you wished you had just shut the fuck up after the first time

“Since you’ve signed here, guess this means you’re claiming them as yours, since you put your name on it.” At your words a chuckle spilled from his lips while he moved over to sign a few pictures, due to his managers and guards trying to get him to hurry along

“My god what the fuck was I thinking.” You fought with yourself over what you had done on the entire ride home. From the moment you stepped foot into your house and laid your head down to sleep your brain just continued to play the moment over and over again. You were praying to god that you would wake up the next morning and have forgotten entirely. Unfortunately for you, you did in fact not forget a single moment of it. Adding further more onto your embarrassment from the night prior, your voice was completely gone. Sighing as you stepped foot into your cafe, you were somewhat dreading the oncoming day knowing that it was always slow on tuesdays. Which means that just left hours upon hours of you to think about last night's embarrassment.

“My god why the fuck would I say any of that.” You pulled at your hair letting out a huff before standing up straight upon hearing the bell to the entrance door, signaling that someone had just come in. You quickly fix your hair before turning around to greet them.

“Hi, welcome to..oh my god.”

“Oh- it’s you, the girl from yesterday.” There he was again standing in front of you with that bright smile, only this time you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“You didn’t wash off my name did you? I think it looked pretty good on you.” You couldn’t tell if he was being playful or serious but either way it made you completely speechless. The way he looked at you stirring up a feeling inside you that you had felt home and time again every time you’d watch him perform.

“I- I- did you- did you need something?” To Jacob's surprise that bold and spontaneous girl from last night was nowhere to be seen right now. In this very moment it seemed you could barely look him and he was starting to think that last night was only an act. He wasn’t complaining though , he found you cute this way. It would give him the opportunity to play with you a little.

“Ignoring my question after asking me so easily last night to sign your breasts? I’m hurt.”

“I didn’t..I didn’t wash it off, it’s still there. Wait, that makes it sound like i didn’t shower, i did shower by the way i just when i got into the shower i covered it with tattoo coverage, and now I’m talking a lot.” Jacob couldn’t help but laugh, you were entirely different from last night, whereas last night you seemed a lot more daring, the girl he was talking to right now seemed shy, anxious and talkative.

“Lucky me, guess that means you’re still mine until the signatures are gone right?”

“What-“

“Since you’ve signed here, guess this means you’re claiming them as yours, those were your exact words right?” A blush forms on your cheeks as he recites your exact sentence from last night. There was no way that this was happening right now.

“You can’t take it back now by the way, you’ve already labeled them mine, so until that signature is gone from your chest, don’t allow anyone else to sign there.” He was enjoying the reactions he was getting from you, you are so cute that he found himself wanting to just corner you against the wall to watch you shy away.

“Don’t tell me you didn't mean what you said?”

“No, I meant it!” There you go again blurting out words quicker than your brain could comprehend.

“Oh so if I can claim them as mine then that means I have every right to do what I please with them”

“Yes, I mean. If you want…if you want to.” Your voice grew quiet, earning a chuckle from Jacob who was simply enjoying how you’d speak and immediately shy away.

“You’re so cute, I think I'd rather have you all to myself than the coffee. Would you let me have you instead bun?”

Unable to form any coherent words you simply nod in response to his words which lead to you in the back of the shop with him standing over you as you kneeled before him.

“You look even cuter than I'd imagined with your pretty eyes gazing up at me bun. I won’t ruin you today, Since I marked what’s mine I think it's only fair that I use them how I please.” He gently traces over your neck and collarbone before resting on the neckline of your shirt, he slips it to the side peeking beneath and a smile curls onto his lips upon seeing his signature still there.

“Such a good girl, making sure to cover up my signature before you clean up.”

“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fuck them too pretty?” He brushes his thumb over your lips as he gazes down at you. Despite the vulgar words that spilled from his lips he still looked and spoke as sweet as ever. As much as you liked it, it made your head and vision fuzzy thinking about how one person could speak such words looking as sweet and charming as he did.

“I’m waiting for an answer honey.” His capability to code switch from sweet to dirty, was completely throwing you through a loop. From the names he called you to the way his fingers caressed your face all while such lewd words spilled from his lips. His ability to suck so easily was making you dizzy.

“Yes. I- I want you to use them.”

“Good girl, take off your shirt for me bun.” He was well satisfied with how obedient you had been. You looked so sweet and innocent kneeling beneath him that he wanted to do far more than just use your tits to get himself off, but he knew if he went further than that now it would be harder to contain himself.

“Look at how pretty my girl is.” The nickname spawned butterflies in your stomach. You watch in anticipation, your heart racing as you watch him unbuckle his belt and shove down his pants and boxers. Part of you was grateful that he’d only be using your tits for the day because if he were to fuck you anytime soon you’d have to close up the cafe for days. His thumb brushes across your lips and a soft hum spills past his lips at the way your big eyes gaze up at him in anticipation

“Open up sweetheart.” Your mouth fell open almost immediately and he slipped in two fingers. Without having even awaited him to tell you to you began to suck on his fingers.

“My sweet girl already knows what to do, look at how pretty you look with your beautiful lips wrapped around my fingers.” He spoke softly even while pressing his cock in between your breasts. A soft whine spills from your lips as you catch sight of the tip of his cock slipping out from between your breasts.

“Go on and prep it for me, sweetheart.” While looking into his eyes you pull your mouth away from his fingers leaving a string of saliva behind. As his fingers tangled in your hair you opened your mouth to spit out over the tip of his cock, using your tits to rub it in. The sight of Jacobs head falling back and his tightening grip on your hair sent your thoughts into chaos. His reaction was enough to get you into a nice rhythm, using your hands to push against the base of his cock with your tits and jerk him off just like that. The feeling of your soft skin making his cock twitch against your chest. The friction and the speed of your movements drove him mad almost instantaneously. While you used your hands to get him off he began to thrust against your movements warning loud groans and low growls from him.

“They’re so fucking perfect sweetheart, keep doing what you’re , youre doing so well.” His praise only made the butterflies in your stomach enter a frenzy like state and as you looked up at him watching his face contort and screw up at the pleasure you became completely intoxicated by the view. Looking down upon you and watching the way you sucked on his fingers all while getting him off with your perfect tits made him territorial. He wanted right then and there to ruin you come completely corrupt you. To ruin you for anyone else, the thought of having you spread out before him, your perfect little cunt on display just for him drove you made. But since he couldn’t fuck you today he would make the best out of fucking your perfect tits.

“Gonna cum all over your pretty tits bun, they’ll so cute signed with my name, so full and dripping with my cum.” All it took was a few more pumps for him to be cumming all over your perfect tits, a view that Jacob wished he could savor forever.

“Mmm, so fucking pretty I think I know just the place I want to claim next.” He said as he held your face in his hands, his gaze falling upon your plump lips as you stared up into his eyes. His thumb tracing over them once again. He was looking forward to corrupting you, and when he finally does he wouldn’t stop until he saw tears running down that beautiful face of yours and you were begging for him to stop fucking you

[dr-spectre]

Talking about Side Order and... Marina. (SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!)

You know, i really enjoyed Side Order, like it wasn't perfect or anything but i had such a blast with it and if they continue to expand on it we could have something REALLY amazing. My reaction to the GOD DAMN TUTORIAL BOSS GOT ME HYPERVENTILATING! IM NOT JOKING! IT WAS SO EXCITING AND SHOCKING!!! THE FINAL BOSS WAS INCREDIBLE TOO! I was singing along to Spectrum Obligato and WHEN THEY BROUGHT IN THE STUFF FROM THE LIVE CONCERT VERSION OF EBB AND FLOW MY JAW DROPPED!!!

However i gotta admit, the story could have been better, what was the deal with the Octoling engineers Marina was talking about? That goes completely nowhere and i thought it was gonna build to something with the repeat playthroughs of the final boss.

And of course, the biggest missed opportunity in my opinion, Marina Agitando.

Now look, i wanna say right off the bat, the design is excellent, it was so smart to bring back her Order outfit and make her into a giant abomination that moves in such a weird way that makes you feel uncomfortable. When i saw her for the very first time when you enter the room, i stood there for at least a solid minute in complete disbelief and shock seeing a giant Marina in some octopus tentacle heart thingy that beats and pumps with the music. The song that plays too "Unconscience" is such a BANGER and honestly it rivals Octo Callie's Bomb Rush Blush remix in my opinion.

The build up for this was pretty good too, seeing Marina say "help me" before she was knocked unconscious and then possessed by Overlorder BROKE ME! I was like "OH NO! ITS HAPPENING AGAIN! NOT MARINA!!" The build up to the 10th floor was so anxiety inducing because you know in the back of your mind that Marina is gonna fight you but you don't know what it's gonna look like, if you were there since Splatoon 2 and have watched Pearl and Marina since the beginning then this build up is even more anxiety inducing and its pretty damn good. And once you free Marina she feels so sorry about what happened and helps you out to put things right, heck she goes through a small character arc of embracing chaos.... but... i have to say...

It is unfortunately not executed that well or with any depth in my opinion because they repeated the whole thing of "oh no a character we know is evil because of (quote on quote) mind control!!!! oh noooo!!" Which is a tired trope in this series that needs to stop or else I'm gonna get REALLYYYYYY pissed off.

I've done enough ranting about Callie's villain arc and how that has been misinterpreted and stuff, but for Marina, i really wish they didn't do the whole "oh no a character is evil because of an evil character oh nooo!! we gotta save them!!" thing again and i wish Marina was more of a villain with a sad motivation for her actions. As much as its cute to see Pearl and Marina act all flirty with each other in Side Order, it kinda ruins the mysterious and dark tone of the story that was teased from the trailers and the tutorial in my opinion. Everything is also explained so quickly early on which really sucks. I really wish Marina was actually conscious throughout her time as Marina Agitando and most of it should have been her fault. She does blame herself for creating Overlorder but it's kinda brushed aside quickly and Marina ends up being totally fine and free of guilt. There isn't enough depth to it which is so lame and a missed opportunity.

Marina is flawed, she makes mistakes and acts emotional and angry sometimes. We have seen a side of Marina where she snaps at Pearl when she loses Splatfests and has shown signs that she still hasn't recovered from her time before she met Pearl.

She picked team Order because she was genuinely scared that her new life would fall apart and she doesn't wanna lose the people (especially Pearl) that she's met and grown to love. Marina is also heavily theorized to be on the autism spectrum and as someone who is autistic, i can see myself in Marina, they could have really explored Marina's psyche and mental health in Side Order but they just... didn't. Instead she's put to sleep and controlled by her ai child and all of the focus is put on stopping it like a traditional "oh no we gotta stop an evil ai!! oh noo!!" story... ugh... I mean Smollusk is cute i guess but there's not a ton to them and they come off as yet another "evil ai that wants order and control!! roarrr!!!"

From reading the most recent interview on Side Order and seeing the concept art, they said that they wanted to tell a story about Marina losing herself to a machine that she created. Could you imagine how tragic it would have been to learn more about Marina and how she's so wrapped up in anxiety that she decides to make this replica of Inkopolis Square and make the Memverse? Maybe at first she makes it to help Sanitized Octolings just like in the dlc, but then maybe due to overwork and burnout (which Pearl mentions in the tutorial by the way), her emotions and anxiety become so strong that she becomes consumed by it, this obsession of order and trying to achieve happiness takes over her and then she gets the idea to spread this order to the real world, where her friends can be "happy" and "safe." Maybe Overlorder is still there but they just whisper to Marina, manipulate and point her in the right direction to continue to her mission of order instead of just fucking knocking her out and using her as a meat puppet for 5 minutes.

Could you imagine how much better the build up would have been to not see Marina until you get to the 30th floor for the first time and you got to unlock her diary entries beforehand? Seeing her thought process and her slow descent into becoming an antagonist. I'm not sure how they would have changed the permanent upgrades but they could have thought of something man. I get that they wanted to subvert expectations but, i think they should have gone WAY further with Marina Agitando.

I was waiting for Pearl and Marina to have their "Tidal Rush" moment where it's this emotional battle between the two, could you imagine how DEVISTATING a remix of Ebb and Flow would have been if it had gotten that "Tidal Rush" type of remix? Pearl singing her parts in this chaotic and emotional way, on the brink of tears trying to get Marina back and calm her down, and Marina trying to fight back against her words, not wanting to believe her because she's so wrapped up trying to make them both happy in her way. She's so caught up in order that she has forgotten what Pearl wants, that Pearl wants to be with her and go against any obstacle that stands in their way together. God i would have cried seeing that I'm not gonna lie. Maybe once Marina starts to think rationally, she breaks free from the machine and then leaps into Pearl's arms, and then we have to go back up the 30 floors to fight Overlorder and we slowly see Marina learn to embrace chaos throughout the floors instead of it just being at the final boss.

I really do feel like Splatoon has this issue of trying to appeal way too hard to kids and being really scared to dive into the flaws of these characters. They are so avoidant of being more serious and they hide it away in optional collectables and obscure posts on social media that creates misinformation and stories that feel way too undeveloped. They just say "oh this character has been brainwashed!!" which is such a lazy and bullshit trope they slap on these characters to avoid getting into their flaws for some stupid reason. (Hell that word has lost all meaning to me now to be honest. Like no, Callie wasn't "brainwashed" per say, hypnosis is not brainwashing or mind control I've said that a trillion times in other blog posts but whatever. Agent 3 was knocked out and had no clue on what was happening. They weren't "brainwashed" they were used as a puppet from a fucking goopy telephone for five minutes while they were asleep. Maybe its poor translation i don't know.)

I know that Splatoon is made for all ages and primarily for children but, i find that to be a stupid excuse for bad storytelling, a good story with depth that's explored and set up properly can be applied to all kinds of age groups not just adults. And the adults that say that shit too, why do you think like that? Why do you wish to dismiss that sort of thing in media? So what if it's made for kids? Adults write these stories and plant themes and arcs into them. Why do you think people cried over the Rosalina storybook in Mario Galaxy and think its the best part of that game? You don't want that kind of stuff in games because "they are made for kids"? Why do you think there are so many adults in the Splatoon community hmm?

I am so worried for Deep Cut in the next game because i really don't want this to happen again, i want an actual proper villain arc for either Frye or Shiver. No hypnosis, no brainwashing, no mind control. Just a pure fucking villain arc caused by the flaws of the characters and without the involvement of a third party. Please, i wanna see growth in these characters that is explored way more clearly and better. Or maybe don't do a villain arc again and just have Deep Cut be fully happy with each other and develop their relationship more with lore and backstory. PLEASE!

Anyways ramble over, thank you for reading!

[seoul-bros]

Jikook Week 34 Complete (30/07 -06/08/2024)

Their thirty fourth week in the military is now complete and time to celebrate this milestone with a look back at this week in 2015.

BTS were in the middle of the Second Half of the Red Bullet Tour. On the 29/07 they had a concert in Mexico and on the 31/07 in Brazil.

After the concert, they went live in excellent spirits with JK being particularly chaotic and Jimin was drinking it all in.

In the post for Week 32, Jimin was listening to Chris Brown while doing his vlog. Here JK is singing Hold You Down featuring Chris Brown. 2013-2015 Jikook really did love them some Chris Brown.

JK also sings Touch My Body by Sistar. Interesting choice of songs.

On 02/08 they performed in Chile and finished the US and South American leg of the tour.

All seven went live in one of the most chaotic lives I have ever seen them do. They were all princes in this live and JK was still singing Hold You Down obviously his song of the moment.

They barely got back to South Korea before they had to get back on the plane on 06/08 for the next leg and next show in Thailand.

Yoongi wanted to do a live at the airport. Very short and undeniably sweet ending with JK complementing Jimin on his looks. The way to a man's heart and all.

The other major milestone this week was the very first episode of Run BTS (01/08/2015). Funny that Run Jin should be revealed this week in 2024 getting me all nostalgic for the show.

The first few episodes are pretty cringe and if I had started to watch then I might not have continued but knowing what the show morphed into later I'm happy to cut them some slack for the early episodes as they found the formula that really worked. Episode 1 is basically the promo for the series, a glimpse of what is to come.

Episode 2 The Greatest Man came out on 02/08/2015. The premise is that they have to demonstrate the characteristics of the best man

but when it comes down to it, the tasks bear no relation to that.

Patience - how long can you hold water in your mouth while people tickle you? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

JK's competitiveness was clear even from this initial episode. He was basically stripped and still refused to spit out the water. Jin had to call a halt to proceedings so Jungkook to do his buttons back up.

He lasted 65 seconds and Jimin lasted 4. Obviously JK won round 1.

2. Sexy Lips - put lipstick on and then kiss a piece of transparent acrylic to see how wide your mouth is💋💄💋💄💋💄

Jimin and JK put up a fight but no one could beat V's impressive 9.5 cm. What this has to do with being the Best Man your guess is as good as mine.

3. Strength and Agility - which is basically musical chairs with cushions 🪑🎶🪑🎶🪑🎶

They really cut to the chase for this last game speeding through the rounds to announce Jungkook as the final winner of both this game and the whole show.

Run BTS had arrived in earnest

Post Date: 06/08/2024

[firefly--bright]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ introducing ; apartment 201 !

⁀➷ jean boy!

has vinyls stacked up against a wall.

proud plant dad (after many failed attempts at it)

went to one (1) tame Impala concert and made it his entire personality for two whole years.

an "old soul" is what he likes to call himself, but in all reality he likes to grumble alot. regardless, after his friends make their way into his heart, there's no getting out. he's not the best at uttering his words out loud in a way that makes sense, but his love is ever-present. its everywhere until you're covered with it, littered in the ground and in the laundry that he complains about, in the takeout he buys, in the little lamp he keeps on so that Connie doesn't hurt himself when he reaches home late.

⁀➷ constance springer!

has a meme account on Instagram that he takes way too seriously

"I'm a...niche mirco celebrity.. influencer. i want free nachos in this fine establishment."

second year set and film design major in University of Paradis

chronically online but not in a creepy way, he swears

almost failed 8th grade because he "forgot" about the exams

self-proclaimed aux guy in every road trip. despite all his jokes, it's easy to love him. he's light of the party, and even if he's not the smartest academically, he's smart emotionally and offers surprisingly good advice, and will always be determined to put a smile on everyone's faces despite any adversity.

⁀➷ sasha braus!

won a hot dog eating competition in 7th grade against grown adults. the trophy rests in her closet at all times.

if Connie is the life of the party, she's the encore.

hoards twice posters and photocards. she made Connie, marco and jean listen to it and now they're hooked onto it too, although not as much as her

doesn't know how to spell, barely uses any punctuations ever

once she starts talking, it's really hard for her to stop. but even during her rants, youd find her making a note of anything and everything. nothing can escape her watchful eye, and she'd offer you a helping hand even if her own hand was chopped off. lives and breathes in the kitchen and believes that the kitchen is the heart of the home. her love is radiant and within your grasp at all times, not leaving, always patient.

⁀➷ marco bodt!

has a dog (golden retriever) named polo. if it wasn't obvious.

has always loved and been surrounded by animals. doesn't like crowds but he loves hustle bustle because it feels like home to him

coffee addict

dad friend. always has bandaids, aspirin, and gum in his pocket.

his glasses are always smudged with fingerprints, jean has to remind him to clean them

very intuitive. knows other people's emotions and behaviours probably more than he knows his own. loves his friends in the deepest and purest form, his comfort lies in spending a night in with them. his love is like when your favourite song comes on in an unexpected setting - you didn't know you needed it but it would put a smile on your face nonetheless.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ previous episode! (introducing; the homeless) ➷ next episode ; pilot!

⁀➷ fic playlist ➷ fic visuals

⁀➷ series masterlist ➷ main masterlist ➷ enter my taglist!

⁀➷ taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @cherrypieyourface , @jeanscremebrulee

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[catboygirljoker]

What do Lamia and Xigbar see in each other, personably speaking? Adding this second bit as a clarifier since I'm concerned that just the question alone may come off as snarky no-fun-allowed-ness when I'm genuinely interested. Love learning abt them btw it's like expanded universe lore to me

:3 !!!!!!!!!

"it's like expanded universe lore to me" is such high praise—thats really how i imagine lamias story! like the eventual fic is gonna be as canon-compliant as possible, at least until the end of the story in 3/ReMind—"this is what was happening just off camera left during the Kingdom Hearts™ series" sorta vibes. also similar in that the fic is definitely darker and more mature than the main KH games, but—hopefully—still feels like it could plausibly take place in the KH universe. anyway!

for Lamia, Xigbar is one of the few people he can safely unmask around. Lamia is autistic and has to put a concerted effort into not coming across as rude or mean to most people, but if he fucks up around Xigbar, Xigbar's just like "lmao tell me how you really feel" and doesnt take it personally. Xigbar is a confrontational asshole who breaks social rules on purpose, and Lamia finds him refreshing and easier to deal with than most people, even in the early stages of them knowing each other when their dynamic is still pretty adversarial.

as they get closer, Lamia finds that Xigbar is one of the few people who don't treat him with either revulsion or pity. like, Lamia's kind of off-putting to most people—partly because of the autism rudeness and general awkwardness, and partly because many people can sense the darkness in his heart and are unsettled by it, whether or not they know it's because of a curse and outside his control. even his own friends kinda treat him like a sick stray cat that they need to take care of or a project person they need to Fix. but Xigbar treats Lamia like a whole person, and doesn't coddle or belittle him. Lamia can trust Xigbar to not to try to override his agency or boundaries to help him—not something he can say about everyone!

and Xigbar sees Lamia as...a vision of goodness he can actually respect and understand. Xigbar recognizes that he and Lamia are very similar—they're both pragmatic, cynical, even at times ruthless; theyre not bright-eyed idealists, theyre not bleeding heart altruists. they're also both very traumatized lmao. Xigbar has been so worn down by his grand role that his personhood is down to emergency power, life support systems only—he cannot imagine living long after his mission is done, and fuck everything else besides. he kind of expects Lamia to be the same way, after all the shit they've been through. but somehow, Lamia still clings to some hope for the future in a shaking, white-knuckled fist. they have an understandable misanthropic streak, but they still try their best to treat people well, and still feel a basic moral imperative to care for and protect people.

Xigbar knows he cant write it off as just a cope or naivete. he has to recognize it as strength. it's a kind of strength he had, once—or at least a kind of strength he once tried to attain.

also like they each think the other is a smokeshow lmao. theyre really attracted to each other on a physical and personal level. the life affirming power of He Get My Penits Hord cannot be denied

[thebroccolination]

SO ABOUT KRIST. \:D/

I'm not sure how many people have seen this photo or know the context behind it.

It was taken by a fan (see watermark) at the final episode premiere for Be My Favorite in August. After we finished watching the episode, Krist and Gawin walked down the aisles of the theater singing their duet, and then they went to the front stage to give their closing speeches. Most of us expected Krist to cry because it doesn't take a lot to make that happen on a normal day. But a fan event for a series that he put his heart and soul into? That he had resting on his shoulders since it was announced in late 2021? Certified, guaranteed, written in stone.

Even expecting it, though, didn't prepare me for seeing Krist cry in person. Especially when it wasn't the crying I'm used to seeing from him. I didn't even need to understand what he was saying to feel affected by it. Being in the theater, hearing him struggle to speak, assuming what he must be talking about, hearing how absolutely earnest every word was, that was enough.

I read the translation later. Krist was talking about Gawin. That he's always wanted the focus of the series to be on Gawin, because it was Gawin's first main role, and Krist felt like he'd taint it. In the past six months, Krist has said more than once that his greatest achievement from Be My Favorite was meeting Gawin. In another interview, he said he didn't care if no one watched the series because he has Gawin in his life now, and that means more to him than the success of his work. He said meeting Gawin changed him and made him grow up.

I always knew that Krist would be good for Gawin's career. From the moment I saw the casting announcement, I knew that Krist would do what he does with all of his friends and colleagues: promote him, hype him, celebrate him. I just had no idea how close they would become. That they would both find strength in each other, and that they would develop the incredibly close friendship they have now.

And, man…ever since I saw that photo up there where Gawin is listening with tears in his eyes as his close friend and admired senior talks about him with such affection and respect, my disappointment in everyone who continues to spread misinformed hate against Krist is so much deeper.

But it's also calmer.

Because it won't last.

Krist is so widely loved by the people in his life and the people he's worked with, and he's so effusively loving in return. And I think more and more people are starting to see that. He cares so intensely all the time and he allows so much of his vulnerability to show, and he listens to people.

So whenever I see people scoffing, "How does he even have fans?" I know they haven't actually looked into who he is. I know they watched a TikTok or a YouTube video with the same five things taken out of context and it just doesn't hold up when you actually see him.

Because this is who he is:

At MUSICON, he and Gawin did a meet and greet, and this fan shared her experience talking to Krist. She had so much she wanted to say, but she couldn't stop crying, and he patted her gently on the shoulder to comfort her. She said he kept kindly looking into her eyes while she spoke, and she finished by hoping more and more people get to know him.

He's one of GMMTV's top stars who makes eye contact with his fans and engages with them. He's popular enough that he could just coast during these fan events, but he wants to listen and interact with his fans. He remembers us.

And, like, I already did a whole thing about how he's not homophobic.

Like, seriously, he isn't. During his solo concert in Cambodia, he made a beeline to this fanboy and giddily danced with him the same as he did with the women in the audience. And he wasn't the only guy he danced with, either.

Krist also got hit on in an airport by a whole European dude years ago and he was delighted. The dimple came out to play and everything.

There comes a point when people who say "he's just pretending he isn't homophobic to make money" start to sound like they just really, really want Krist to be homophobic because otherwise they have been mercilessly tormenting him for years over misinformation they didn't care enough to look into.

The man described his love scene with Gawin in Be My Favorite as a piece of art. Like. I think it's abundantly clear that he's not the monster interfans invented just to throw knives at.

So anyway.

Back to Gawin.

I'm glad Krist has Gawin in his life. Gawin who sees him, who appreciates him, and who gives back just as much affection as Krist gives to him.

And who honest-to-God looks like he wants to protect Krist just as much as any of us do.

So yeah!

I like Krist.

I think he's neat. \:D/

(And I totally hope he'll let Gawin and Singto do a skit making light of all the ship wars during his concert next weekend. GawinSingto jokes, come to me.)