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metalhoops · 1 year

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Corroded Coffin didn’t ‘do’ love songs.

It wasn’t some unwritten rule or unspoken theory that they were too ‘cool’ for love songs. Hell, metal ballads were a whole subgenre. Even W.A.S.P. had a love song.

It was just that in their three years as a band, they’d never written a single love song. If Corroded Coffin had a lyricist, it was Eddie. It wasn’t as though other members hadn’t tried their hand at writing. Gareth and Jeff had written a handful of songs between them, as well as helped Eddie polish a couple of verses. Grant had even written a chorus, but generally, the lyrics of a Corroded Coffin song were, first and foremost, Eddie’s brainchild.

The closest they’d ever gotten to writing a love song was ‘Killer Konnection’, and that was all Jeff. Though it was more about lust than love. So you could imagine the boys' shock when Eddie showed up to band practice and played them a love song.

It was unlike any of their other material. Since Eddie disappeared back in March after being framed for a series of murders, the songs he’d written had changed. That hadn’t surprised the boys. Being proverbially run out of town with pitchforks could really change a guy’s view of the world. He pulled out some killer prose about red skies filled with bats and dark wizards out for deathly revenge. But they’d never heard Eddie write anything like the song he played for them that morning. He hadn’t even named it. Though Gareth caught a glimpse in Eddie’s notebook and saw it was going by the tentative title of ‘S’. A mysterious name for a mysterious song.

Sure, ‘S’ had all the hallmarks of a Corroded Coffin song. It had the killer beat spurred on by the anxiety-inducing pounding drumbeat and base, accompanied by thrashing guitars and raw vocals, but the lyrics? Downright Robert Smith or Morrissey vibes. Maybe ‘love song’ was too harsh. Really, it was a song about longing. Even the guitar chords appeared to ache under the weight of the song.

The song left the three other members of Corroded Coffin asking one question. What the hell happened with Eddie? They’d known Eddie was gay since before they’d become a band. It wasn’t like the boys were the type for adhering to societal conventions anyway.

It’d be another year before Gareth decided he didn’t particularly have any preference as to who he fell in love with, and Grant? He decided he’d rather play D&D and work on creating his own tabletop RPG than date anyone, anytime soon. Thank you very much. Jeff was the token straight friend, though he did like wearing eyeliner and painting his nails, so people thought what they would.

They knew Eddie had dated guys — maybe ‘dated’ was too strong a word. They knew Eddie had hooked up with guys but none of them had inspired such a response. They made it their mission to work out who the hell ‘S’ was about, and maybe try to knock some sense into him. Eddie’s song sounded so damn heartbreaking. They were his best friends. They had to do something.

It wasn’t until their next Hellfire session that all the pieces fell into place. Since Hawkins burst of Satanic Panic, D&D at the high school was no longer an option, so they’d been couch surfing across different members’ houses. How they ended up at the Harringtons’ the Corroded Coffin boys would never know. They knew Dustin and the younger kids were friends with the guy, but since he’d gotten off the hook for the town murders, Eddie and Steve had gotten close.

The men had eyes. It was clear to see by the way Eddie’s focus honed in on Steve the second he entered the room, the guy was equal parts smitten and grief-stricken. It was also painfully apparent Steve was oblivious. Not Eddie falling for a straight guy, again. That always ended poorly.

Yet there were moments, the boys questioned how one-sided the affair was. Gareth noticed the way Steve went straight to Eddie after the session was over. He asked about the game. He knew Harrington didn’t give two shits about D&D but he listened attentively, nodding his head and narrowing his eyes as though in deep concentration as Eddie spoke. Weird.

He was also nice to the Corroded Coffin boys. Uncharacteristically nice. Harrington got a little snarky with the kids. He’d make jabs about them making sure to use coasters or get their feet off the coffee table, but the Corroded Coffin boys? It was nothing but small talk and platitudes, as though he was trying particularly hard to be nice and non-offensive. Why would Harrington care what they thought?

Eddie was always the last to arrive at rehearsals, which left plenty of time for the men to discuss. One pressing question: was Steve actually queer? Gareth said yes, Jeff said no and Grant wanted to be excluded from the conversation. The next, had anything actually happened between Eddie and Steve? After going through ‘S’s lyrics with a fine-toothed comb, they all agreed on ‘maybe’. Which was less than helpful. The boys weren’t usually the type for meddling but Eddie had been downright mopey all month. They needed to do something.

Gareth took one for the team at the next Hellfire session held at the Harringtons’. They’d been playing for three hours straight and were taking a well-deserved break. The kids were eating lunch while Eddie was smoking out back near Steve’s pool. Harrington was cleaning plates in the kitchen, so Gareth offered to help. He’d never been subtle, so he began the conversation with a sentence that seemed to hit Steve, much like a sledgehammer to the face.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Steve looked at Gareth wide-eyed, all deer in headlights, dull doe eyes. Gareth didn’t understand Eddie’s seemingly deep and aching love for the guy, but he was easy enough on the eyes.

“No. Not currently,” Steve fumbled.

“Oh. Okay cool.” Gareth paused for too long. He should’ve had a better plan than just ‘talk to Steve’.

“Do you want one?”

“A girlfriend?” Steve clarified, still looking both alarmed and dumbfounded.

“A friend. Who doesn’t happen to have to be a girl,” Gareth circumnavigated. People said Harrington was dumb, but the guy appeared to catch onto what he was implying too quickly for an entirely straight ex-jock.

“I-uh. I don’t know you that well,” Steve mumbled, his eyes suddenly glued to the dishes in the sink.

Holy fucking shit, Steve Harrington thought he was asking him out. Nope. NO. Abort. Gareth needed to crawl into a deep, dark hole for the foreseeable future. He had no clue what he’d said to Steve. He just got himself the hell out of there. Steve spent the rest of the session being annoyingly nice to him, without mentioning the awkward moment in the kitchen. Gareth spent the time wanting to crawl inside himself and puke. Eddie was going to be so mad if he ever found out.

With all his inner turmoil, it wasn’t until he left the Harringtons’ that he realised, Steve hadn’t turned Gareth down because he was a guy. He’d turned him down because they didn’t know each other. Holy shit. There was hope.

At the next rehearsal, he managed to sway the other band members into believing that despite their (and likely Eddie’s) assumptions, Steve Harrington wasn’t as ‘totally straight, off limits’ as they’d assumed. It was Jeff’s turn to have a plan. He kept the other members in the dark, besides his exclamation of ‘I have a plan’. By the time the plan came to fruition, it’d sunk into the back of the band members’ collective subconscious.

The band was playing at The Hideout and Jeff insisted they change their setlist to include ‘S’. There wasn’t much argument. When it was time to play the song, Jeff quickly introduced it, dedicating it to ‘someone special in the crowd’. It was then that the other Corroded Coffin boys were suddenly on hyper-alert, searching the crowd for whatever poor girl Jeff had decided to fall for, when all three sets of unassuming eyes found the familiar face of Steve Harrington lingering in the back booth. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst their regulars.

Eddie looked ready to puke or run but the boys quickly counted him in, and they were off to the races. Eddie couldn’t resist a catchy hook. Once the setlist was over, Eddie remained hiding backstage, pacing and looking ready to actually commit a string of murders while muttering ‘what the fuck did you do?’ whether to himself or the rest of the band, they didn’t know.

Eventually, a familiar figure appeared at the backstage door. Steve knocked tentatively before peeking in. He gave an awkward half-hearted wave to the other members before making a beeline for Eddie.

“I got your note,” Steve said, the note all band members were now sure Jeff had somehow engineered.

“I liked the song, it was kind of sad though...” Steve muttered, gazing down at his shoes: dentist’s teeth fresh, white reeboks. Who wore reeboks to a metal show at a bar?

Much to the dismay of the other Corroded Coffin members, Grant chose that moment to get involved. He ushered Gareth and Jeff out to the front of house, out of earshot. Leaving Steve and Eddie to have their conversation in private.

The next week, Eddie arrived at rehearsals early, with Steve Harrington and a new, real Corroded Coffin love song in tow.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fictlet #drabble #steddie drabble #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #outsider pov baby #everyone is a disaster #stranger things 4 #stranger things au

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pitchsidestories · 4 months

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New Year's Eve Party (2) II Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader

New Year's Eve Party Masterlist I Part 1 I Word count: 2240

With a glance at the clock in your girlfriends kitchen, you noticed that the New Years Party would start in only a few hours. “Mapi, Ingrid, we need to get ready for the party!“, you yelled across the apartment. From the living room, you heard some movement, followed by the onset of music. Judging from the song titles, it was Mapi who turned on the music.

Ingrid had apparently gotten straight to work and was now calling for you both from the bathroom; “Loves, I need your help with my make up.“ “Babe, aren’t you the one who’s good with make up? You can help me instead.“, Mapi laughed in reply from the bedroom while looking for an outfit.

Ingrids face appeared from the bathroom with a pout; “Alright, but I need your help picking my lipstick colour.“ She held up two lipsticks, one a glossy nude, the other one a dark red. You pointed to the red lipstick; “This one.“ Carefully, you grabbed it from her. Pulling the cap off, you gently took Ingrids face in your hands and applied the lipstick to her soft lips.

“Does anyone want a glass of wine before the party?“, Mapis voice echoed through the apartment. “I mean can’t go wrong with a glass.“, Ingrid smiled brightly. You added with a laugh; “Means we want one.“ “I’ll bring you some.“

Moments later, Mapi put down three glasses of white wine on the bathroom cabinet. She took you both in with a smile, while you pressed a kiss to her cheek; “Thank you, Mapi.“ “You’re welcome, my loves.“ Ingrid held up her glass, waiting for you two to do the same. “So cheers to a great evening with us and later with our friends!“, she announced as you clinked your glasses together. You smiled happily at your girlfriends; “Cheers to that.“

After a long sip of her wine, Mapi grinned; “You two look gorgeous.“ “We’re not done yet!“, Ingrid protested, pointing to her outfit to show she wasn’t dressed yet. “Still. I love that lipstick on you.“, Mapi continued, making the Norwegian blush. “Thank you.“

“Does it taste as good as it looks?“, the defender winked at her. Ingrid pulled back; “Don’t ruin the lipstick!“ “Oh come on.“ “Okay, go on.“, she gave in with a quiet sigh. You watched as Mapi bent forward and kissed your girlfriend hungrily. “Tastes delicious.“, she concluded.

You grinned at her; “It does, huh?“ “Do you want to try?“ “Yes.“, you replied and immediately felt Mapis lips on yours. The defender smiled at you; “Yours tastes nice too. Like cherry.“ Ingrid watched you two with a laugh; “We need to hurry up, girls.“

“Wait, I promised Mapi to do her eyeliner this morning.“, you remembered suddenly. “That’s right!“, she agreed and let you walk her back into the bedroom where she laid down on your shared bed. With your eyeliner in hand, you climbed on top of her. This gave you better control over the liner and gave your girlfriend a chance to rest her injured knee. Your face was so close to Mapis, you could feel her breath on your neck while you applied the eyeliner. “You look gorgeous.“, you mumbled under your breath.

Mapis eyes crinkled at the corners while she smiled up to you, which made your task a lot harder; “Thanks. But I love looking at you and Ingrid from where I’m laying.“ Ingrid waved through the open bathroom door, a curling iron in her hair; “I would help, but I'm doing my hair right now.“

You cursed under your breath when the doorbell started ringing:” Oh shit, who’s ringing at the door right now?!” “Can you go get it, love?”, the Norwegian asked humming. With a sigh you got up and opened the door:” Oh hi.” In front of you a few of your girlfriends’ teammates were standing, all of them wearing a big smile on their lips.

Cheerfully Aitana was the first of them to speak:” Hey, we’re here to pick you girls up.” Just like them you started to grin, before turning your head to the inside, calling Ingrid and Mapi:” Girls, it’s Aitana, Patri and Claudia, we gotta go!” “Just a second.”, the tattooed Spaniard replied as she tried to put on her the shoes with the help of your other girlfriend.

As the two beautiful football players transcended the stairs in front of your home you muttered stunned:” You look amazing, babes.”

“Let’s go to the party.”, Mapi nodded excitedly, putting an arm on each of yours and the Scandinavian midfielder shoulder. Her excitement was reflecting in Ingrid voice as she confirmed:” Oh yes, the party can’t start without us.” “I can’t wait to start the new year with my two-favourite people.”, you winked at them. Lovingly the Spanish defender looked at you both:” Me neither.” “I’m with you on this but we don’t want to be late.”, Ingrid reminded you two softly. “Thanks for reminding them, Ingrid.”, Aitana intervened with a grateful smile.

The Norwegian player waved at her casually: “Oh, you’re welcome. I know my girls. They always lose track of time.” “But you three look beautiful as usual.”, Patri observed with a cheeky grin on her face. Mapi who’s days had been a rollercoaster ever since her injury in training appreciated that complement of her old friend: “Thank you.”

The walk to the other Barca players home was not that far from your place, still you were surprised when you arrived as quickly as you did with your small group. When you all entered Fridolina Rolfös and her girlfriend home Ingrid could not hide her admiration, she immediately said her thoughts out loud:” Wow. This looks amazing.” “Yes, right. Hi girls!”, the glowing Swedish host embraced her best friend since Wolfsburg days. Warmly Mapi greeted her fellow rehab teammate: “Hi Frido.”

“How, are you bestie?”, curious Ingrid looked at the Blonde. But tonight was not about the injuries that plagued the team, this was the time of letting the old year go and welcoming the new one in. Truthfully Fridolina answered: “Great, how are you three?”

“We’re pretty happy, in an honest tone the tattooed Spaniard added, Personally, I can’t wait for a fresh new year.” Those words spoke to the core of the Swedish forward’s heart: “Oh, trust me. I know what you mean.” “Frido, were you and your girl decorating? It looks beautiful.”, Ingrid tried to change the topic to something more light hearted.

“If Frido starts on her she’ll never shut up.”, Alexia remarked smirking. Playfully Fridolina pouted: ”Rude, how does it come that you always stick together?” “We’ve known each other forever.”, the younger of the two Spanish players shrugged. Thoughtfully Alexia added: “True, even longer than you and Ingrid.” “Alright, girls, will you shut up now? I’m trying to watch the loves of my life being each other’s love of their life.”, Mapi pleaded, to highlight her wish she side eyed the two blondes. Determined her friend shook her head:”Never.”

Ingrid and you heard the words of the girlfriends which made you return to her side. Both of you said:” It’s not the same without you though.” “You two are the sweetest.”, Mapi replied, looking at the two of you with admiration. Innocently you took her hand:”Do you think you can slow dance with us Mapi?” “We can try.”, she told you, while getting up from her chair.

Immediately Alexia switched into her captain mode:” Be careful with her.” “We are. Don’t worry.”, Ingrid reassured the older midfielder. More seriously you continued:“Yes, we promise.” “I’m fine.”, Mapi confirmed, when you three made your way to the free spot which was used to be the dancefloor.

Meanwhile Patri was in her element playing the DJ of the party, drawing all the attention on her as she was announcing the next song: ”This song is for the people who are disgustingly in love!” You came to realize it was a slower one, so it was perfect for your injured girlfriend. With a grin the one in control of the music continued after a pregnant pause:” Or for the one’s who are about to fall for someone.” Gratefully you mouthed into her direction over the loud music:” Thanks Patri!” “You’re welcome.”, Patri shouted back happily.

“I love you two.”, Mapi whispered as you and Ingrid embraced her, slowly swaying to the tune. The Norwegian chirmed:“We love you too.” “Good.”, the tattooed Spaniard smiled. “So much.”, you hummed. A warm laugh escaped Mapi’s lips:” Alright, girls. Keep some love for midnight.” “Okay, deal.”, Ingrid agreed. Excited your other girlfriend wanted to know: “Thanks. Can we go back to snack on some mini quiches?” “Sure, before Leila eats them all.”, you joked.

Playfully offended Leila spoke up:” Excuse me, I’m not that horrible!” “Of course, Leila.”, Mapi teased her old friend. Innocently smiling the brunette defender was handing the three of you a small quiche each:” Plus I’m sharing, see?” “Nice of you. But we’re better at sharing.”, the younger of the defensive player grinned cheekily. Amused the older nodded:” Oh I know you three even share a bed.”

“We do.“, Mapi confirmed with a proud nod. “And you love it.“, Leila added with a laugh. Mapi winked at her; It’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in.“ “Champagne, love?“, Ingrid interrupted them, pushing a glass into Mapis hand. “Please.“, the defender answered gratefully. Ingrid handed you a glass as well. “Are we already starting with the toasts for this and the new year?“, Alexia asked amused, joining your little group to get her wife some food.

Mapi grimaced at her team mate in confusion; “Already?“ “No, it’s still too soon for that, we’ve got time.“, you agreed with your girlfriend. Ingrid nodded gently; “Let’s relax a bit.“ You all took that as your sign to move back to your seats, but Mapi couldn’t stop herself from teasing her friend; “Relaxing is something Alexia still has to learn.“ “And never will.“, you laughed. The midfielder rolled her eyes at you and turned back towards her wife.

Happily, Mapi held up her champagne glass. Ingrid and you clinked your glasses with hers. "So, let's enjoy tonight.“

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso oneshot #woso community #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #barca femeni #woso one shot #ingrid engen imagine

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vendetta-if · 2 months

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Hello!

Just wanted to say the IF is amazing, i just spent 3 days straight binging it and loved every second. Please ignore if it has already been asked but what is all the RO's preferred genre of music? And favourite songs if they have any?

Keep up the amazing work!

Thank you for the kind words! And I just wanna say, your ask is the final push for me to actually scour through most of my songs on Spotify and finish assembling playlists for Rin, Santana, Skylar, and Jackal 😆 But I had so much fun doing so and I'll keep adding more and updating all of the characters' playlists as I discovered more new (and old lost) songs that fit them.

I have the links to their spotify playlist which contain a mix of their favorite songs and some songs whose lyrics fit them. I don't think I can link too much stuff in one post unfortunately, so I'll make a separate post to announce the rest of the characters playlists later on 😁But I'll try to link one song that either perfectly encapsulate their music taste or whose lyrics fit the character--or at least a song that they'd enjoy listening to.

Also, I basically have to split up my own music taste and favorite genres among all of my characters and I'm running out of genres 😭 But as for your question, I don't think I've answered something like that before--at least not in detail.

Sorry in advance for the long post (I just love being able to gush about my characters and music 🤭)

Ash

Ash enjoys quite a wide variety of genres, but mostly, their go-to are genres that are more energetic and/or aggressive. So, think like Rock, Phonk, Dubstep, Trap, Drum and Bass, Metal, that kind of stuff. But usually, they listen to songs whose vibes and/or lyrics kind of fit the mood they're in at the moment.

Also, fun fact, they did have some kind of an emo phase during their angsty and edgy teenage years 😂 It wasn't really too apparent (like no, they didn't have that typical emo hairstyle or wore those iconic eyeliners), but they just relate to quite a number of the lyrics of songs that can be considered to be emo anthems.

The song that fits the genre they like to listen to and the lyrics also matched their feelings and obsession love for MC is "So Sick" by Johnny Goth.

"So Sick" - Johnny Goth

youtube

Rin

As the child of a classically-trained musician, Rin mostly enjoys classical and instrumental music. One of their favorite instruments is the piano and they used to enjoy learning to play it. Maybe in the future, when they won't be so busy anymore, they can pick up their piano lessen again...

Also, they tend to gravitate towards more soothing and calming songs in general because of the headaches they usually got after using their power too much or to see to far into the future. So most of their playlist is filled with instrumental songs, either piano, cello, or violin, or a combination of those.

As for the song that fits them, I'd say "The Belt of Faith" by Jung Jaeil kinda fits their vibe and the gravitas they carry (Yes, the main soundtrack for the film "Parasite" and yeah, I can see the irony 😂 )

"The Belt of Faith" - Jung Jaeil

youtube

Santana

Santana loves that tinge of old-school songs that they were often exposed to whenever their parents listen to in the radio. So, the genres they enjoy are synthwave and retrowave songs 😎

As for the song that encapsulates their favorite genre and whose lyrics fit them quite well is "Gloria" by The Midnight.

"Gloria" - The Midnight

youtube

Skylar

Skylar is a pretty chill and upbeat person who loves and enjoys nature, so their favorite genres include those upbeat summer music and Indie/Alternative Folk music. They also enjoy the occasional pop songs.

As for the song that fits their vibe and desire to just fly off and be free is "Get Away" by Surfclub.

"Get Away" - Surfclub

youtube

BONUS

Luka

Luka enjoys Electronic music, including Phonk, Post-Punk, and Alternative/Indie. So, yeah, quite a variety of genres. But for one song that fits him the most, from the lyrics to even the title itself is "Everything Black" by Unlike Pluto 😆

"Everything Black" - Unlike Pluto (feat. Mike Taylor)

youtube

Jackal

Just like Luka, he also enjoys Electronic music, especially Phonk. But unlike Luka, he sometimes loves Hip-Hop music as well. One of the few songs that kinda encapsulate both of those genres and fits with his personality is "Heartless" by UNAVERAGE GANG.

"Heartless" - UNAVERAGE GANG

youtube

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infictionalwonderland · 1 year

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pairing: jj x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol & drugs, drunk reader, drunk jj, drunk everyone, sum floof, lots of suggestive content.. 😁, groping, PDA, CHAOSSs

Its was John B’s birthday.

Amazing, right? That’s what JJ Maybank had thought anyway—he’d been planning the birthday party of his best friend, with the help of his girlfriend, for a few days now and today was finally the day where everything came together. All the Pogues had done up the Chateau—cheap silver Christmas tinsel hung loosely from the wooden ceilings, wrapped (messily or otherwise) presents stacked in pyramid form on the coffee table. Blue, silver and purple balloons were scattered around, a tacky blue ‘happy birthday’ banner slapped against one of the walls. And alcohol, upon alcohol upon alcohol was lined up neatly in the small open plan kitchen.

The party had long since started up—the birthday boy himself having arrived about an hour and half ago with a giddy Sarah in tow (she had the initial task of keeping him distracted) and with a brief emotional moment for John, sop, the party had begun.

Chaos.

You’d all migrated outdoors now—taking some things from inside with you on your way; Pope had climbed up the tree, all on his own (you had a proud mom moment) and with the ukulele he’d nicked from Kie, he was playing shitty tunes while randomly shouting at the air.

John B lay in his hammock, a shitfaced grin at his lips and a purple cowboy hat hanging from his head, a day of the dead dead design etched onto his face with Sarah’s eyeliner. A bottle of half done Vodka encased in one of his hands. JJ was sat down on the long grass, back against the tree, he was wearing the Christmas tinsel from indoors around his neck and had tied another in a bow around his waist—he’d taken to crafting (or attempting to craft) little grass rings and bracelets from the grass he plucked off the ground and two beers rested in between his parted legs, the front of his lengthy blonde hair tugged into a tiny ponytail with a clear rubber band.

You girls, on the other hand, were all dancing your drunken hearts away—Rude boy by Rihanna was currently blaring from the speaker Kie had smartly brought with her and the free of you were living your absolute best life’s.

“I like the way you touch me there—“

All three of you sang out loudly, and Kiara grinned suddenly with beautiful mischief before she put soft hands to your bare waist and tugged you back fully against her body, hands caressing you up and down to empathise the point of the song—you giggled along with her actions, throwing your head back into her shoulder with feigned euphoria and gliding her hands across you body as you grinded back on her.

“I like the way you pull my hair—“

Sarah didn’t seem to plan on missing out of the fun, eagerly strutting you both and sliding in behind Kiara, leaving said girl sandwiched between you two. You were all giggling and to do as the song said—Kie parted you hair into quick pigtails before tugging on them jokingly: you titled you head back to look at her with a dopey grin, pressing back on her and sensually swaying your hips.

“Babe, if I don't feel it I ain't faking, no, no I like when you tell me kiss you here—“

Simultaneously, with the sung lyrics, you and Sarah turned your heads to face Kie and smacked loud kisses to her soft skin, leaving lip stains on both of her cheeks—you caught the blondes eyes over her shoulder as she bit onto her bottom lip with a mockingly lustful expression which made you cackle.

“I like when you tell me, ‘move it there’—“

With the lyrics, you turned yourself around so you were chest to chest with Kiara and you slid yourself down her body, moving your hips sensually to the music and running your hands down her body as she leant her head back on Sarah, grinding against the blonde while messing with your hair.

“So giddy up, time to giddy up You say you're a rude boy—“

As you shimmied back up gracefully, you winked at your best friend and toyed with a pretty curl for turning so your back was against her again—the three of you drunkenly singing along to the song.

When you all finally stopped dancing shortly after that, out of breath as you all laughed over seemingly nothing, your eyes finally landed back on the three boys—finding them all staring at you three already. John B was half hidden by the hammock, looking ready to hide his gaze at anytime, Pope was gaping with an evidently loose grip on the instrument in hand and your boyfriend simply stared at you, enamoured.

“I think we broke them.” Sarah loudly whispered.

The three of you launched into laughter but Kiara’s laughing paused as she took note of Pope’s grip on her ukulele.

“Pope you break that damn ukulele, I swear.” Kie immediately exclaimed with intoxicated obnoxiousness as she took into a weak sprint towards the tree, startling the boy so bad he did drop the ukulele and Kiara exclaimed in pure terror, barely managing to catch it in time.

“My baby.” She whispered, terrified, as she cradled her instrument.

You and Sarah happily entangled hands, skipping around in a circle briefly with soft giggles before towards your boyfriends, hands swinging back and forth as she muttered something about capybaras you didn’t catch.

“Hi.” JJ whispered, looking up at you like you were some goddess.

“Hi my beautiful boy.” You popped your lips together—lipgloss smacking sensually, drunk off your fucking tits, you were.

The glazed shine of love in his eyes immediately doubled, a sheepish heat to his sun kissed as yiu plopped yourself down next to him happily on the grass.

“Hey.” He whispered, again, dumbly.

You grinned at him in return, looking every bit of angel that he thought you were and as he continued to watch you with sprinkles of nothing but deviation in clear blue eyes, you positioned yourself away from the tree to lie down in the soft, green grass.

JJ allowed a drunken gasp to slip from his lips at your beauty in that moment—skin glowing magically under the shining moonlight, eyes crinkled in the corners from your wide toothed grin, hair like a makeshift halo amongst the long grass, shirt riding up slightly and revealing even more of your heavenly soft skin.

He didn’t waste a second, moving the beer away from him (save the alcohol, always) before literally leaping on top of you. Legs either side of your body, arms either side of your head and shark tooth necklace dangling just above your perfect face.

“M’ pretty girl.” JJ breathed out, smearing kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, nose and you erupted into little giggles of infectious laughter underneath him. “The prettiest girl. ‘Love you so much, baby. Never gonna stop, promise. Ever.”

“Woah.” You gasped, intoxicated and giddy. “You like my dancing that much?”

JJ pouted, a disappointed grumbled moving from his frowning lips and he pinched the plush skin of your thigh gently—soothing it over immediately as you yelped out.

“Relax, Jesus, people these days.” You pouted. “I love you—J, never gon’ stop either. You’re mine now, no backing out.”

“I would never.” He frowned sternly.

You gazed up at him wordlessly, love glinting in your colourful irises and he practically melted from his place above you, smushing himself so close to you his shark tooth necklace fell softly in your cleavage—a feeling that made you giggle.

When JJ caught your wandering gaze saunter over to his beer, he grinned knowingly. The blonde took his bottle of beer with a fond sigh and you smiled up at him innocently—rolling his eyes, he pulled down your bottom lip expectantly and you made an obedient ‘o’ shape which had him humming in approval before he put his beer to your lips, soothing his hands through your hair as you drunk.

“Alcoholic.” He named, narrowing his eyes teasingly as he moved the drink away from you again.

“Pothead.”

The both of you giggled, heads cloudy and lost in thoughts of only each other as the night air cooled sun kissed skin and sounds of Work Out by J.Cole played absently in the background.

“It’s my birthday!” John B suddenly jolted up from his place in the hammock and shouted out.

“Go shawty it’s your birthday—“

“We gon’ party like it’s your birthday—“

“We gon’ sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday—“

“And you know we don’t give a fuck it’s not your birthday!”

“It is my birthday though.” You barely heard John B softly mutter as JJ suddenly captured your lips with his own in a searing kiss, his hands wrapped around your thighs and dug into the meaty flesh, the kiss tasted of beer, weed and your strawberry lipgloss and it was beyond perfect. You hummed into it, fingers tangling into her blond floppy hair, quietly whining in disappointment as he pulled away—your bottom lip between his teeth before he let go.

He squeezed onto your thighs again, moving to slot one of his legs in between them—the cold of his rings made you gasp slightly, a sound that had him grinning.

“You know. .when it’s your birthday, imma throw you your own little party,” JJ whispered it like a scared secret, his scent, eager yet loving touches and rough voice swallowing you whole. “But—but it’s not gonna be a shitty little bash, nah, baby, it’s gonna be all you could want. Birthday of your dreams, for you, my dream girl.”

“Dream girl, huh?”

“Dreamiest.” He hummed drunkenly, peppering sloppy kisses to your cheek before digging his face in the crook of your neck and softly inhaling your scent. “Got an early present for you, dream girl.”

You giggled softly, full of drunk aloofness, as he learned over you and his hair (scented with your coconut shampoo) fell partly into your face.

“Here.” The beautiful face of your boyfriend was once again inches apart from your own and you smiled in content. At your grin, his own appeared and suddenly small grass rings were being thrusted into your face—they were done kinda tackily, small specks of white flowers from the warm green grass poking through uneven strands carefully wrapped together without any true skill. To you they were perfection, and what made them even more perfect was your boyfriends grinning face, sun kissed skin slightly flushed.

“For me?”

As you attempted to reach for one, he caught your wrist softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm—humming at the smell of you and the softness to your skin. He carefully put one of the rings (the one with the most flowers) onto your ring finger, shyly peeking up at you for your reaction but you were beaming so heard small dimples erupted and he quickly continued on, now grinning himself.

“I—I know it’s not like, the best, but eventually imma get a pretty, dream ring for my prettiest, dreamiest girl.”

“J.” You called, softly, and he looked up through his lashes, heart pumping aggressively in his chest. “Love you, so much.”

A grin spread across his cheeks in an instant as he leaned down to connect your lips, feeling the slightly itchy feel of the grass ring brushing against his skin as your fingers combed from his hair, his smile stretched wider. His dream girl was truly the dream.

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #outerbanks smut #outerbanks #obx #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #jj x you #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n

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jester-lover · 1 year

Text

She's in Parties

Twisted wonderland characters with a goth girlfriend feat. Trey, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Rook, Silver, and Lilia cw- fem! reader, confident! reader, fluff, goth author freaks out about goth music, very long post

I notice how often the fanfic community focuses in on the clothing/makeup relating to the goth subculture, and while there will be a lot of that in this post, I want more people to experience the music. I left a goth song recommendation I think fits each character, from gothic metal to softer new wave. No gatekeeping here.

Trey

Trey is definitely not knowledgeable about the goth scene, he listened to a few songs here and there, and probably had a minor emo phase in middle school

He does however enjoy the slower more melancholic goth songs you play for him, or more sweet/romantic songs

Trey is usually the one keeping law and order in his dorm, so sometimes he likes having calming activities like baking and picnics to get away from it all

Having a goth girlfriend, someone who can really understand his perceivable struggle of mundanity, and bring a spark of excitement to his life is a gift he will always appreciate

He would love body mods, like tattoos, piercings etc

Tattoos especially if they have meanings behind them, he thinks they’re like stories on your skin

This man has no clothing comprehension (fedora), he straight up doesn't care what you're wearing

He does however, really like when you wear funky jewelry, and leather jackets

Something is just so sweet about your caring attitude towards him, contrasting with your look that tends to terrify people

We would make you bat shaped cookies 100%

A song that you and Trey listen to together would be Ecstasy by Strawberry Switchblade

“Maybe if you pair the red leather pants with the fishnet top, it’ll match your makeup.”

Jade

You might look like the dark, mysterious part of your relationship, but we all know that title goes to Jade

This boy is, unnerving to say the least, but you’ve always been a fan of strange things

He absolutely adores your aesthetic, even if you tone it down for school, or wear trad goth makeup every day, he’s obsessed

I feel like jade would enjoy gothic films, like The Crow, or Nosferatu, along with a long list of horror movies

“The movie itself is a bit overwhelming, but the plot is so delightfully dark, I think you would really like it dear.”

He probably does listen to goth music, more post punk and new wave type stuff, like The Cure, so a part of your music is not new to him

But he’d love to be introduced to more vibrant gothic music (it makes for a good hiking playlist)

He loves all types of gothic makeup on you, but especially enjoys 90s’ goth makeup, with tight black eyeliner, and burgundy red lipstick

Something about the simplicity of the style, along with the somber tone of the music you listen to makes Jade’s heart flutter (if he has one)

A song that would remind you of Jade is Heaven or Las Vegas by the Cocteau Twins

Floyd

He’s a lil creepy guy himself! You guys are two peas in a pod!

Floyd loves having a goth girlfriend, the fashion, makeup, music and general aesthetic are right up his alley

We know our boy loves shoes, so he would absolutely adore it if you had a funky shoe collection, from tall and heavy platforms, to cute yet sharp winklepickers

He would love loud gothic rock, extreme music hypes him up before a big game

I read in floyd’s wiki that he dislikes restraint, so the loudness and brashness of gothic rock would be something he really enjoys

In terms of fashion, Floyd is one of the few boys who would definitely allow you to give him a makeover

Tease and gel his hair, layers of silk over fishnet and leather, you can really go all out

Be careful though, because he’s also the type to come running for hugs and kisses right when you've finished getting ready

Floyd thinks that the best looks on you are the ones that require layering, he loves seeing you look like a shapeless bat creature

His most favorite part about having you as a girlfriend is how easy it is to find you in the stands during a basketball game

Floyd definitely gives you some freaky fish nickname, like ‘anglerfish’ just because he’s a meanie like that

"Anglerfish! I found a sweater you'll love, Its got bats all over it!"

A song that Floyd would like is Head like a Hole by Nine Inch Nails

Jamil

Jamil caught your eye due partially to his dancing skills, and his hair

I mean look at it, the boy is a walking shampoo commercial

He really is clueless about goth music, you really have to keep him on the shallow side before throwing him off the deep end

“So, you like music about coffins and funerals then?”

He really does enjoy your aesthetic quite a bit, every time you come home from a day of shopping (at a thrift store most likely) he encourages you to give him a little fashion show

Kalim might have been mildly terrified the first time he saw you, but then he realized how happy you made Jamil, and accepted you!

Pre-overblot, he enjoys more angry, loud gothic rock, but after, he asks you to introduce him to some softer goth music

Jamil has always dreamed of giving his significant other a life full of joy, so sometimes he likes fantasizing about a future with you, and dancing to romantic goth songs

A song you and Jamil dance to is Heaven by The Cure

Rook

Ooolala a mysterious figure shrouded in darkness? He is intrigued

You definitely notice him, and you definitely ask him out first

(he swoons)

Rook is a perplexing character, he never really shows any interest towards your music, before suddenly turning up with a full playlist

Turns out, he’s been keeping track of the songs you mention in passing conversation and blast in your room

He loves you in long flowy black skirts, with full trad makeup, he thinks you look so beautiful

“Mon petit ange, you look absolutely breathtaking, villainous beauty like yours is dangerous!”

Rook is most definitely the of boy who goes out in the middle of the night with you for an impromptu photoshoot, or walk through a graveyard

You two have a very ‘Morticia and Gomez’ type relationship, considering just how obsessed this man is with you

He writes poems about you

Rook probably also adores romantic goth songs, especially the weirder ones

A song you two would listen to together is Temple of Love by the Sisters of Mercy

Lilia

Scene bf x goth gf

Look at him and tell me he doesn’t avidly listen to My Chem? You can’t.

You two are two birds of a feather! (a crow’s most likely)

He absolutely adores your sense of fashion, and how it aligns with his own, just be aware that if you have any cool hoodies/jackets, he will steal them from you

Speaking of clothes, he loves any of them on you, especially bat-like clothes, like black shirts/dresses with long flowy sleeves and flared pants

“Hehehe we match in both clothing and personality!”

He also listens to goth music, and considering he’s ancient, he’s probably experienced some classic bands in concert

Would love to share his most macabre stories with you, if you want to hear him ramble

Lilia is a fan of all genres of gothic music, especially the funky kinds of music often blasted in goth clubs

You two are very like minded individuals and that keeps you both very happy

A song you and Lilia would dance to is What’s Inside a Girl? By The Cramps

Silver

He’s so soft for you

You just cause fear wherever you go, and Silver’s just there, softly smiling

He doesn't listen to loud music unless he’s trying his best to stay awake, but when he is trying to sleep, he prefers the more mellow stuff

“Do you have any really calming music I can listen to?”

He cares so very little about what you wear, but he likes you in velvet so you're soft to cuddle with

Silver cares a lot about you, so if he sees people making bad remarks about you, he’ll confront them, he’s scary when he’s mad

He enjoys watching gothic movies with you too, but might fall asleep mid movie

Since the Diasomnia uniform is all black, he gets a little kick out of matching with you

A song Silver and you listen to as you lounge about is Lorelai by the Cocteau Twins

Bonus! More alternative songs that remind me of the boys :)

Trey- Linger by The Cranberries

Jade- Nocturnal Me by Echo and the Bunnymen

Floyd- Nasty by The Damned

Jamil- Kiss me, Son of God by They might be Giants

Rook- Gentlemen take Polaroids by Japan

Lilia- Time by David Bowie

Silver- Sacrifice by London after Midnight

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erikahenningsen · 3 months

Note

more prompts because i am eating up every single thing you write i love making it 2018 again: 10 or 31

10. “Teach me how to play?”

Regina hasn't been in Janis's garage in years.

It's almost exactly how she remembers it: the worn couch, the art supplies strewn everywhere, their organization a method known only to Janis.

And, on a stool next to an easel, Janis—strumming on her guitar.

"Hey," Regina says, stepping over a box of what looks like dolls and stuffed animals.

Janis looks up, her fingers stilling. "Hey?" she says, looking a little confused.

"You left your jacket at Gretchen's house last night," Regina says, holding up the denim jacket with the elaborately painted back, which she had found thrown across a couch while helping Gretchen clean up after yesterday's party.

Nobody needs to know that, in the privacy of her room, Regina had slipped her arms into the sleeves and admired the jacket, taking secret thrill in how it smelled like Janis's perfume.

"Oh," Janis says, looking surprised. "Thanks. I forgot about that."

"I figured," Regina says, "since, you know. I have it and you don't."

Internally, Regina cringes a little, but Janis just looks amused. She starts strumming the guitar again, and jerks her chin in the direction of a chair a few feet away. "You can leave it there. Thanks."

Regina slides the jacket over the back of the chair and lingers, a little awkwardly, not sure if she should leave now that she's accomplished her task.

"What are you playing?" Regina asks.

"Just some song Damian and I were writing for fun," Janis says, smiling a little. "Tentatively titled 'A Cautionary Tale.'"

"It's catchy," Regina offers.

"Thanks."

Regina remembers weekends in middle school spent in this garage, Janis's fingers clumsily feeling out chords on the guitar she had just been gifted for her birthday. Regina had always wanted to learn, but she didn't want to break her nails.

Today, Regina can't believe how silly some of her priorities were when she was younger. What else had her insecurities caused her to miss out on?

"Teach me how to play?" Regina asks, the words leaving her mouth before she can think too hard about them.

Janis's fingers still. "Really?"

"Um," Regina says, "yes?"

"Well... okay," Janis says, gesturing for Regina to sit, and then handing her the guitar. "I'll teach you a couple chords."

Regina settles her arms around the instrument, letting Janis move the fingers on her left hand on the right strings. She's so close Regina can hear her breathing, smell the same perfume that had lingered on the jacket, can see where Janis's eyeliner has smudged a little in the corner of her left eye.

"And then you..." Janis lifts Regina's right wrist, dragging her fingers across the strings. The guitar sings the opening strains of the song Janis had just been playing, and Regina tries to ignore how it feels like sparks are zipping up her arm from where Janis is touching her.

"There you go," Janis says, looking pleased, and Regina reflexively smiles back, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Stay tuned for my EP," Regina jokes, and when Janis laughs, it's the best sound she's heard in a long time.

Regina almost doesn't notice when the nail on her right middle finger breaks.

Almost.

#katie i am picking up what you are putting down #rejanis #mean girls #mean girls the musical #mean girls 2024 #the fourth wall is translucent #ask #ajmichalka #prompts

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deanbrainrotwritings · 7 months

Text

— THE BODY

SUMMARY : tish dared priestly to wear a dress to work in exchange for a week off. he looks so hot.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw (18+), smut, panty-kink, manhandling of priestly ;), sub!priestly or maybe he’s just being a feminist idk

WORD COUNT : 3.2k

A/N : title from close your eyes’ song. i’m still mad that he ended up looking normal in the end! there’s a bts reference on accident. also, also, i didn’t feel like writing this until I watched Rent, and I wanted to see jensen in a dress, lmao. anyway, i imagined him in this dress. we can also pretend it’s dean bc we all know he would. Xx

Priestly stepped into Y/N’s room, standing in the doorway like a toddler who had thrown up on themselves, waiting for her to look up at him. She was working on something in her laptop, her brows furrowed in focus, with her teeth pressing into her bottom lip.

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, “hey, Priestly,” she greeted distractedly. “How was your day, baby?” Still staring at the screen and typing away with two open books surrounding her bed, he stared at her pretty face intently, hoping she’d turn to look at him. When he dropped his bag loudly on the floor and didn’t reply, she finally turned to look at him, confused and concerned.

She’d studied his face first, smiling softly at his appearance, his hair in a Mohawk sprayed red, the black eyeliner that made the pretty colour of his eyes pop, his cute beard, the way his lips were a little unnaturally pink. He’d probably used some of her makeup, the tint that made the colour of lips look a little more natural.

But what made her blink at him in surprise was the white dress he was wearing. Almost instantly, a little smirk tugged at the corner of her lip and she quickly admired the way the dress fell over the curves of his body, tight and short with a sexy little slit on the front of his thigh.

He blushed, scratched anxiously at his beard and waited for her to say or do something as he stood there in the mini lace dress. The only thing that was off to her about his lovely appearance were the white socks and the matching Converse he was wearing, but other than that, he looked unsurprisingly pretty. He’d felt confident the whole day, but now he felt embarrassed and naked, which was new because Y/N usually enjoyed all his fashion choices.

“Wow,” she finally said, chuckling. “Come here, princess,” she teased, shutting her laptop and pushing it away along with her books. He rolled his eyes, pouted and walked towards her. Stomping towards her was more what he did, childishly he slouched in front of her, but he let her have a closer look at the dress.

He chewed on his lip when she hummed and curiously reached out to touch the lace of the sleeves. She slid her fingers down the slightly flared long sleeve, her fingers pinching the scallop edge experimentally, which matched the hem and the collar that covered the tattoo of his neck.

She bit her lip, looked up at him with a seductive smile when she moved her hand to the hem of the dress where the slit was. She undid the rhinestone buttons to make the slit longer, higher so she knew he wasn’t wearing boxers. Her lips were pressed together in amusement at the thought, he knew it, felt his face heat up even more when she slid her hand up to the dress to feel the silky underwear he was wearing.

“Ooh, sexy,” she smirked at him when she felt the lace edge of the underwear on his hips. She continued to stare up at him until he averted his gaze and shifted shyly, his fingers curling tightly around the hem of the dress. She finally looked down, peaked at the beige colour of the bikini underwear that nearly matched his skin, and pulled so it snapped against his skin.

She looked up at him again, let her eyes trail up the seams that followed the shape of his Ken-doll body, when she realised she could see his tattoos and his toned muscles. “Wait, it’s see-through?” She asked excitedly, sitting up on her knees to get a closer look at his chest, and saw his nipples through the thin material.

“Okay, I’m gonna take it off now…” he told her shyly, but she stopped him.

“Nuh-nuh, you look so fucking pretty.” Her voice had a little bit of awe and a flirtatiousness in it so he froze, his lips parted and he nodded mindlessly when she smoothed her hands down his sides. “So, what’s the story?” She grinned at him, moved her hands under the dress again to rest her hands on his hips.

“Well, Tish dared me to—oh!” He moaned, closing his eyes at the feeling of her warm hand moving up and down over his semi-hard dick. She hummed for him to continue, didn’t stop rubbing his dick as it hardened more, so he looked down at her in surprise. “Well, they all wanted to see me go through with it… I think they doubted I’d go through…” he bit his lip, paused to hold his breath when she moved her hand over the tip of his cock, and he knew she could feel the silky underwear dampen with precum.

His mind was hazy, jumbled and unfocused so he couldn’t tell his story straight. He had no idea where to begin or what was important, utterly unaware that what he was saying made absolutely no sense. He didn’t care, and frankly neither did she. She gathered those bits of information and didn’t question it, because in the end, all that mattered was that he looked and sounded so hot.

“Um… I’d get a week off if I went the whole day…” He trailed off and pouted when she moved her hand out from underneath the dress. He enjoyed getting this reaction out of her, his breath almost instantly became hot and heavy, his skin flushed and warm following the blood that moved with the rapid beat of his heart.

“A whole week for me?” She asked, just teasing a little. She leaned forward to kiss his neck, revelled in the little hitch in his breath, in him reaching out to hold her hips. He nodded, saying nothing in response, only wishing to enjoy her kisses on his throat, the rough bites on his neck, and possessive suckling under his jaw.

“Fuck,” he moaned, letting her continue to kiss him and feel the white dress on his body. She traced the rhinestone buttons on his chest with her curious fingers, from where it started at the collar to where it curved up over his peck and then down toward the side of his chest.

She pulled away from his neck, moved her lips down to his nipples and sucked at them through the lace. He bit his lip at first, nearly wanting to silence the sounds that started to bubble up in his chest, but decided against it when her fingers moved to tease his other nipple, brushing and pinching until he arched his back and he groaned hotly.

“Is this yours to keep?” She asked, getting off the bed to stand in front of him and change the position. He moved back to give her some space and nodded quickly, about to respond to her with an obedient ‘yes’, when she manhandled him onto the bed. He moaned—surprised and pleased, looked at her from over his shoulder and then turned to lay down on his back. “You’re so good,” she praised, pulling the soft sleep shorts she was wearing down her legs.

“Anything for you,” he murmured, trying to kick off the damned Converse from his feet. He struggled to even get them to move past the heel, instead his socks started to shift lower, and he bit his lip in his struggle.

She chuckled, starting to undo the buttons from the flannel that she’d stolen from him. He was sheepish in his failed attempts to remove his shoes, so he quit trying to get them off, distracted by the sight of her in his clothes. She didn’t give him time to admire her nakedness, because she focused on undoing his shoe-laces and then she slipped the shoes off his feet as if he were a princess. He was sure his face had turned red in that instant, but at the same time, he really liked the way she treated him so gently compared to how she’d pushed him onto the bed.

“I can’t believe me in a dress is doing it for you,” he said breathlessly, lifting the dress up his hips, and then watched her take her underwear off.

“Baby, anything you wear does it for me.” Her response was so quick and earnest, it made him swoon. His eyes softened, despite being aroused, he felt a warm feeling bloom in his chest. That was the case, until she crawled up his body and kissed his dick over the underwear, her tongue running flat over his bulge too. His heart lurched excitedly and his toes curled at the feeling, at the sight of her between his open legs.

She kissed his thighs, the way he would before he ate her out, teasingly and lovingly. She worshipped his body with her mouth and her fingers followed, thumbs smoothing over his hips bones, moving the underwear out of the way tortuously to create just a fract of pleasurable friction.

She lifted the dress up a little more, kissed his stomach, his pelvis, and everywhere else except for where he was twitching and throbbing for her attention. He didn’t even want it to end, didn’t dare to beg because he loved the wordless praise, loved the way she sucked at his skin to leave velvet marks, and the way she licked at his soft flesh, tasting him with little moans.

“Please,” it came out before he could stop it. He tensed a little when she stopped because he was definitely enjoying himself, but she was going up, reaching for his lips. His mouth parted, ready for hers but he groaned in irritation when she kissed his chin instead. She teasingly nipped at his lip, felt him squirm beneath her, and rubbed her wet pussy over his dick.

“Shit,” he hissed, a smirk growing on his face, “if I’d known women’s underwear felt this nice…” he chuckled, holding her hips and guiding her movements, distracted with the way she finally kissed him.

He could feel her arousal seep through the thin material of the women’s underwear he was wearing. He felt so needy when his cock was wet in her desire and throbbing to be inside the warmth of her cunt. He needed to guide this, needed to cum so bad, he started to lick into her mouth as soon as her lips were pressed against his. But she simply didn’t give in to him and he couldn’t give a damn about taking control when she was making him feel good, now sucking his tongue into her mouth so he felt like he wasn’t breathing.

He only moaned loudly into the kiss and let her grab his wrists to pin them over his head. He liked this, chased after her lips when she pulled away to stare at him smugly. He didn’t care about control or ending the foreplay, he just wanted to feel her close, always. But her small hand around his wrists wasn’t enough physical contact for him, he wanted to feel her everywhere.

So, he whined at her playfully and moved his hips up into her with care, struggling to keep his hands above his head simply because he wanted to feel her soft skin under his hands. He was squirming, getting needier by the second, just admiring her and wishing she could just be plastered all over his body forever.

“Just… let me enjoy this,” she said mischievously. She looked so hot in his flannel, with the ripped up sleeves that nearly covered most of her upper arms, the way it fell off her shoulders sexily now that she’d unbuttoned it, revealing her bare chest. The only good thing about summer in California was getting to see her look more sexy than usual by dressing half-naked at home. Or even better, wearing just his clothes with nothing underneath.

He pouted, rolled his eyes, and turned his face to the side. Even when she started to unbutton the dress at the top, he pretended to be uninterested. Even once her soft lips chased the skin she uncovered. He felt her smirk when he wiggled under her, and he clenched his fists to stop himself from touching her, because she may not have said it, but he wasn’t allowed to touch her right now. Her tongue started lapping at his velvety skin, tracing the tattoos she could reach, sucking where his skin was unmarked by ink.

“Tell me you’ve enjoyed this enough…” he whispered. Desperate for more, more friction, more of her touch, more of her everywhere.

“Then I’d be lying,” she murmured against his skin, “I don’t lie to you…” She pouted innocently, her eyes shining playfully, but still she moved up to kiss him again.

His hands moved instinctively to hold her face, but he stopped himself halfway and gripped the pillow beside him instead. He squeezed it tightly, desperately trying to hold onto something when she sucked on his lip, her hands sneaking down between their bodies to pull the underwear he was wearing aside.

“But I do want to move on to the fun part,” she whispered. When she wrapped her hand around his hard cock, he moaned, his head pressing back into the mattress. She didn’t even care if the red hairspray would taint the sheets seeing him look this beautiful and needy. She just gave him little kisses that began at the corner of his mouth and started to spread his precum over the tip and down the rest of his cock. “I’m gonna sit on your face later, it’s just so pretty,” she mumbled against his cheek.

“Fuck… yeah,” he agreed excitedly, turning his face to the side, hoping to reach her lips. “Let me touch you,” he murmured, trying to get her lips closer, but she was moving back, torturing him with a little smirk. Her hand tightened around his cock, squeezing to draw out a grunt from him, her gentle fingers massaging under the tip. “Please, baby, let me touch you,” he whispered, sounding more wrecked.

Her stomach clenched at his voice, but instead of giving in and responding, she kissed him roughly. He took that as an invitation and let go of the pillow to hold her face at last. She didn’t force him away this time, let him tangle his fingers in the hair at the back of her neck, his tongue moving against hers deep in her mouth. His stomach was flipping excitedly at the taste of her, and his other hand began to move down her body, to slide his fingers through her wet folds.

They both pulled away at the same time to moan, his hand moving from behind her neck to grasp her thigh harshly instead. She panted on his lips when his fingers moved through her weeping cunt, sliding through the embarrassing amount of arousal that soaked her folds up to her clit. The feeling of how wet she was turned him on, all he could think was that he’d caused it, that and the flushed state she was currently in.

He slid his fingers through her wetness the way he’d do with his cock and brought them into her pussy, pushing deep so she stretched around his two fingers. He could feel her warmth and more arousal cover his hand when he pulled his fingers out and pushed them back into her. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, muffled her already soft moans with the dress he was wearing.

With her chest pressed against his, her nipples tightened when brushing against the lace of the dress and her walls fluttered around his fingers. With her hand on his chest, she sat up, moved her hand on his cock faster, twisting her wrist so deliciously he felt so close to his release and he didn’t want to stop it from happening, but he also didn’t want the pleasure to end so soon.

She ground her hips into his hand, getting her clit stimulated on his palm, and both of them looked away from each other to shamelessly watch their hands work between their bodies. Her small hand wrapped around him was slick in his precum, but not nearly as soaked as his hand was from her wetness. He groaned, grabbed her wrist to stop her from making him finish, and slipped his fingers out of her.

“Ready?” He whispered, patting the back of her thigh so she’d move closer, allowing him to fill her up all the way. She nodded, slipped out of the flannel, threw it over her books and lowered the panties he was wearing down to his knees. She snickered playfully, ignored his annoyed huff and the roll of his eyes when she finally lined the head of his cock with her entrance, slowly sinking down on him while biting her lip.

“So good,” she whispered distractedly, her breath catching in her throat the farther she took him into her cunt. She panted, ground her hips against his to adjust to the size of him, comforted by the way he brushed his thumbs along her hips. He waited patiently for her despite throbbing inside her, just slid his hands up to her waist, guiding her to lean over him slightly.

“I love you,” he breathed out, pulling her closer still, until she kissed him again. Her lips moved against his slowly, occasionally bumping against the labret stud, her nose brushing against the two nose ring hoops when she tilted her head. Once she deepened the kiss, her tongue slipped into his mouth, and she lifted her hips before she sank back down.

He moaned against her, squeezed her waist, and bent his knees but could only keep them apart a certain distance because the underwear started to dig painfully into the flesh of his taut thighs. It turned him on, both the knowledge of having worn panties, but also the feeling of being restricted. She knew that about him and he just knew that’s why she’d lowered the underwear where they were.

He thrusted up into her, met her thrusts slowly at first, until they both picked up the pace. With one of her hands beside his head and the other on his chest where his heart was, she stabilised herself. She felt every inch of him move in and out of her smoothly, then watched him crumble slowly almost as close as she was to her orgasm.

He was holding back and she knew it, brought her hand away from beside his head to rub quick circles on her clit. Right as her walls fluttered around him and she moaned his name, he came inside her, falling apart so prettily beneath her with a strangled moan.

“I love you,” she murmured, resting all her weight on him, finally returning his sentiment. He wrapped his arms around her, smiling tiredly, but otherwise felt so light and warm from his orgasm. Holding her was just a bonus and kissing her was the main treat.

He whined playfully when she shifted and started to pull away, pouted when she moved off his lap, but let her remove the underwear which was keeping him restrained. She threw it carelessly onto the floor and climbed up his body again while smiling softly and placed a kiss on his forehead, her lips lingering lovingly. “Never change, Boaz Priestly,” she murmured.

taglist

@rominaszh @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls (lmfaooo) @zepskies

main masterlist

boaz priestly masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#boaz priestly x reader #boaz priestly smut #boaz priestly #boaz #priestly #ten inch hero #jensen ackles #6.2

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not-another-robin · 2 years

Text

Miscellaneous Alfred Pennyworth headcanons because he is immortal and you can't tell me otherwise

Alfred HATES musicals. Hates them. Especially Broadway, do not get him started on Andrew Lloyd Webber. He has a vendetta against the man not only because he thinks mega musicals are cheap schlock, but also for RUINING his son for a good 4 months after Phantom of the Opera came out. That shit was Bruce's MCR. he's skulking through the manner in a blanket cape with dark eyeliner playing the title song at deafening volume. Harvey enables him for months just to get on Alfred's nerves. Besides that, the batfam insists he doesn't like musicals as a genre because he can't sing. They are correct.

In my heart of hearts, Alfred was the OG 'finders keepers applies to wayward children'. When Bruce started working with other heros Alfred started checking in on them regularly, especially the ones who were far from home or lost their families. It's not uncommon to see Hawkgirl or Diana or J'onn at the manor when they're feeling homesick.

If a league member has at least one parent that's able to be contacted, said parent is invited to monthly get togethers with the rest of the league parents. They have a little club to talk about their kids. Okay it's more of a support group

If someone needs to be looked after due to sickness or injury and the league can't spare a team mate to do it, they're brought to the manor. Its no secret that most hope for this outcome.

It's a running joke that everyone, everyone gives Alfred a gift on fathers day.

One such Father's day the teen titans made "if lost return to Alfred Pennyworth" shirts for every batfriend (somewhere around 20+ people when alls said and done). They have a big group photo with them all, Alfred in the middle with a shirt that says "keep them".

Alfred watches soap operas regularly, and has seen every episode of Dynasty to date. Where he finds the time nobody knows, but he is knowledgeable on all the TV drama within the shows and behind the scenes. He has pretty ecclectic taste too, given he speaks a couple languages.

One time, while deliriously sick, Jason found him watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. All of the batkids insist this was some fever induced hallucination. They are wrong.

Alfred is a world class pot stirrer. There is so little of substance at the myriad of galas he has to attend that he makes his own fun, sue him. It's a leftover pass time from Martha's days - people were objectively cruel to her and gossipped at her expense often, so she returned it in kind. She was truly a legend in this regard and Alfred was her right hand man. They were experts at sewing seeds of doubt with a single comment ("Oh I'm so sorry sir, I assumed the woman over there was your wife") and watch the world burn, wine in hand. He missed having a partner in crime in that regard - eventually, Jason and Steph fill that role.

Bruce and Alfred have been locked in a decades long battle for Bruce's posture. He will go into shrimp position if given any opening and Alfred is determined to not let that happen. Idk if anyone else's parents did this, but Alfred is absolutely the type of parent to poke/push the small of your back until you sit up straight. He also does this for every batkid, even unofficial ones. Tragically it is too late for Tim.

Both Alfred and Bruce are fond of pen pals, though Alfred kept his up for much longer. He writes letters to his few friends back in England, to the Kents, various heros, he even manages to get mail to Themyscira.

To anyone under the age of fifty (excluding Bruce, maybe) his natural handwriting is completely illegible. Peak old person cursive, it is supernatural how his friends manage to read it. He writes very neat and very small, with very little space in between the lines. Its nightmarish. He does know how to write legibly for the sake of the kids, but his personal notes are practically in code.

Okay this one's a little out there - Alfred's posh accent isn't his natural one. It's natural now, since he's been using it so long, but growing up him and his family spoke in a more country/cockney accent - except for his mom, who had the more posh recieved pronunciation one. I've rewritten Alfred's entire backstory so bear with me She was the head housekeeper for a wealthy family, and she came from a more 'refined' area, so she carried herself with the more stereotypical fancy British manners. Alfred loved his mom, looked up to her more than anything in the world, so he adopted her mannerisms (and accent) whenever he could. He was teased mercilessly for it as a kid, so he stopped, but once he left home to join the military he fully adopted the persona to distance himself from his father and brother. The only time the original accent would slip through was when he was really, blindingly angry or upset, and only Bruce and Dick have ever heard it.

He has a flat within the manor, like a little apartment for his own space. It's initially sparsely decorated, but over the years it accumulates a borderline absurd amount of photos. Some of them are of him, mostly military friends, him with Martha and Thomas, or souvenirs from his theater days. The vast majority are his kids though. Pictures of Bruce from every stage of his life of course (the kids have a field day when they find them) and a smattering of pictures Bruce has drawn for him over the years, from crayon scribbles to charcoal portraits. The halls are lined with photos of the grandbats, many big milestones but also personal ones caught on candid camera: the first time Damian smiled while being hugged, Cassandra and Bruce playing bridge, Dick and Jason asleep after their first mission. On the wall at the end of the hallway hangs the old family portrait - Martha, Thomas, 6 year old Bruce, and him. Though he's not particularly spiritual, it's placement makes him feel like Martha and Thomas can see how their family has grown.

#batman #dc comics #narsposting #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batfamily #headcanons #i have. so many thoughts about this family so if this gets literally any feedback I'm doing it again #also if you wanna hear my entirely rewritten alfred backstory woof we'll be here all night but id still love to attempt explaining it ascrb

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sagesolsticewrites · 2 years

Text

Reunion (Part 1) | Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

A chance encounter at work leads to a reunion with a childhood friend from Tupelo.

Request from @queenslandlover-93: Hello! I have a request for you…what would if Elvis runs into an old childhood sweetheart and they make it work with everything going on around them from his mother passing away to the ‘68 comeback special. I also want to see his sweetheart fight back for him against the Colonel. Can’t wait to see what you come up with! 😊

a/n: sorry this took so long darling! Thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it! The next part(s? 👀) should be out soon!

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: a couple swear words, I think that's it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Hugest of shoutouts to @austin-butlers-gf and the EFC for letting me bombard them with snippets from this 🤍

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You fan yourself with your hand, the Tennessee summer heat close to unbearable as another hour of your shift at the convenience store slogs by. You’ve been the only person here practically since your shift started. Who in their right mind would be out shopping right now was truly beyond—

“Just this please, ma’am,” a deep voice drawls, and you’re jolted out of your thoughts as someone places a bottle of Coca-Cola on the counter in front of you.

“Ma’am? Now I think I’m a little young to deserve such a title, don’t—?” Your teasing is cut off as you look up to see the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, contrasted by a sleek wave of thick, jet black hair and a scattering of freckles. You blink as you take in the lace shirt and eyeliner smudged around his eyes and realize exactly who this is. In fact, you had been nodding along to one of his songs not 5 minutes earlier.

Elvis Presley (the Elvis Presley! In your place of work!) lets out a shy laugh, “Well, my mama raised me to be polite, and seeing as I don’t know your name…” he trails off.

You’re not quite sure what emboldens you to stick out your hand for him to shake and introduce yourself, but you know it’s worth it when you see that surprised smile light up his face. Taking it one step further as you ring up his Coke, you strike up a conversation. “You know, I used to know an Elvis Presley growing up back in Tupelo. Not quite sure how common of a name it is, but I think of him when I listen to your music.” you say with a self-conscious shrug.

Elvis is silent for a moment. You cringe inwardly, sure you’ve just ruined the entire interaction, until he speaks up. “Wait… Y/N. You wouldn’t happen to be the Y/N L/N who lived a couple houses down from us back then, would ya?”

You freeze, looking up to take in his features again. You couldn’t tell at first with the makeup and styled hair, but looking into his eyes you see the scrawny blond boy you ran around with in your neighborhood back in Tupelo. The boy who had been your best friend back then.

“Elvis?” you say in disbelief, moving around your little counter to pull him in for a hug, “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you! If I’d’ve known it was you making all this amazing music—“

“You like my songs?”

You pull away to slap at his chest, playfully scolding him, “Elvis Presley, if you think there’s a girl in this town that doesn’t like your music you’re outta your dang mind.”

He laughs, and oh my goodness. He might have grown up a bit from the little boy you knew, but his laugh was still music to your ears.

There’s a moment of silence before his gaze flicks over to the clock on the wall and his eyes widen. “Hey, I’ve gotta get goin’, but maybe we could catch up later? It’s been forever, there’s so much I wanna tell you about.”

“I’d love that,” you nod, grinning. “I get off at 5, if you’re free then.” You say, scribbling down your phone number and address on a scrap of paper next to the register and handing it to him. You try very, very hard to ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach as your fingers brush.

“I’ll see ya then, darlin’” he calls, winking as he ducks out the door and leaves you blushing just as much as he had when you were kids.

•••

Getting together after one of your shifts or one of his recording sessions becomes a regular thing for the two of you. You fill him in on how your father’s job transferred him to Memphis only a few years after his family had moved here, and he fills you in on the Hayride, the Colonel, his deal with RCA, and everything else that had happened since he moved away. The two of you grow closer, and eventually it’s as if the years you spent apart never happened.

Unfortunately for you, the crush you harbored for him all those years ago also grows with your friendship. Every time he smiles, laughs, every time your hands brush as you walk next to each other on your way to some shop on Beale Street he wants to show you, the butterflies in your stomach come to life and you have to fight the urge to kiss each and every freckle on his face.

Elvis never notices, of course. You’ve learned to hide your feelings well. Why bother putting your friendship in jeopardy when you know he won’t feel the same?

Something changes, though, as you’re sitting under a tree in his unreasonably huge yard reminiscing about your time in Tupelo.

“No, I remember it, clear as day, I absolutely won that race!”

“You did not! I remember, Sam tripped you or somethin’ and I beat you to that tree!”

“Okay, you are definitely thinkin’ of one o’ the other races because I’d have to be dead to forget that my prize was a kiss from you.”

His face flushes as he realizes what he just said, and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah, I mean—“

“No,” you cut him off, “I, um. I remember that race, too.”

“You do?”

“Well, yeah. It’s kinda hard to forget your first kiss.” you shrug, glancing shyly down at your shoes peeking out from where you have them tucked under your dress.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I, uh. I thought about that day a lot after we left.” he admits shyly.

You hum, unsure of how to answer.

There’s a moment of silence, and your head snaps up as you feel his fingers tentatively tangle in yours.

“Y/N…” his gaze drifts down to your lips then back up, blue eyes meeting yours. He hesitates, then says softly, as if speaking too loud will break whatever force is locking your gazes, “I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s all right.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod. “I’d really like it if you did that,” you whisper.

His hand comes up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and he cups your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to yours, nothing at all like the shy, clumsy, fumbling attempt at a kiss you’d shared back in Tupelo. No, this was sweet and gentle and… there was no other word for it. It was simply perfect.

He pulls away just an inch, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he breathes, eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I kissed you after that race back in Tupelo,” you mumble with a small smile.

“Well then, it sounds like we’ve got a lotta time to make up for,” he grins as he eagerly pulls you in for another kiss, smiling against your lips.

•••

If your parents thought the two of you were inseparable before, they weren’t prepared at all for how attached at the hip you and Elvis would be once you finally admitted your feelings for each other. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to spend all day together, coming home after dark from one of your houses, and eventually it was accepted that your families — the two sets of parents becoming friends again as you and Elvis rekindled your friendship — would have dinner together at Graceland multiple times a week.

You finally got to meet the infamous Colonel as well, Elvis introducing you as his “other bestest girl” with a wink towards his mama. He was incredibly gracious to you, but something felt… off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, so you brushed it off as no big deal.

•••

You stuck by Elvis through all of the “Elvis the Pelvis” mockery, silently seething as the Colonel tried to force Elvis into a more “family friendly” image. The last straw for your boyfriend, however, was the Steve Allen Show.

He had torn off for Beale Street after that argument with his mama, and after his parents had gone to bed you simply waited for him to return. You knew that oftentimes he just needed his space and would come home once he calmed down some.

Eventually you heard the smooth roar of the Cadillac pull up. You strode over to the foyer as he opened the door and fell into your open arms, tucking his face into your neck and squeezing you tight.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, sweetheart,” he says, voice muffled.

You shush him, stroking his hair. “It’s alright, baby. It’s frustrating, I know.”

“I just don’t understand why people have such a problem with me,” he mumbles as you lead him up the stairs to bed,” I told the Colonel before, my own mother approves of what I do!”

“If you don’t wanna change, then you shouldn’t,” you say. “You can’t let all these old people stop you from doing what you love.”

He laughs softly, “B.B. said somethin’ like that tonight. Said they couldn’t do nothin’ to me ‘cause I’m a famous white boy.”

“B.B., as usual, is right,” you reply with a smile as he plops down on his bed, tugging you down with him. You lean against his shoulder and whisper, “There are lots of people right now trying to tell you who to be. I think you just gotta listen to yourself; who do you wanna be.”

“Thank you, mama,” he whispers after a moment of silence, intertwining your fingers and squeezing three times— your own little signal for “I love you”.

“Always, honey,” you reply. “Now,” you stand up, brushing your lips against his, “You’ve got a big show tomorrow, so you should get some rest.”

He nods tiredly, a sleepy smile on his face. “You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

You shake your head, “You just get some sleep, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

•••

The next night, your heart swells with pride as you sit next to his parents in Russwood Park. You beam as he makes eye contact with you throughout his opening speech to the audience, throwing a wink your way when he says “but in the end ya gotta listen to yourself.”

The Colonel urges you to get back in the car as Elvis’s performance escalates. You and his mother both fight through the crowd as he’s dragged away by police, Elvis urging the both of you to get back in the car, assuring you that he’ll be alright.

•••

It was not alright. A letter arrived soon after the Trouble incident, and the ultimatum was clear: jail, or the service.

As much as you and his family hated the thought of him joining the army, you all hated the idea of jail even more.

“I’ll write to you, and I’ll call as much as I can,” he assures you just before he leaves for basic, repeating the words he’d told his mother just 10 minutes earlier with one addition for you. “I promise, sweetheart, ain’t nothin’ gonna get in the way of us. Not even the damn Army.”

He leaves you with that promise and a lingering kiss, and you’re left juggling your little convenience store job, your worry over him, and his mother’s drinking.

Aaaand there we go! Part one is done! Hopefully y'all enjoyed. Sorry for the cliffhanger 😊 but part two is in the works now! Please let me know what y'all thought!

Read part 2 here!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #elvis (2022)#elvis 2022 #elvis biopic #elvis baz luhrmann #my writing

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angelkakewritings · 4 months

Text

A&W - Toxic!Russell Adler x Reader

Written By: ANGELKAKEWRITINGS

18+ MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the canon characters of the COD franchise including Russell Adler

Pronouns used: Reader is she/her/hers

CW: Heavy implications of reader and Russell being in a FWB situation, mentions of LSD, mentions of kidnapping, angst, NSFW mentions, themes of sex, anxiety, mentions of kissing scars, facial scars (Russell not reader) Russell being toxic and avoidant lol, I got so lazy to proof read!

Author’s Note: Hello! It’s been five months since I uploaded a writing piece on here. I had to take a little time for myself just to breathe and refocus on myself. I’m doing okay and I actually started to jog and journal to help keep myself in a good headspace <3 This piece is a lot shorter and even a little abstract but nonetheless made with love. I listened to a lot of Arctic Monkeys believe it or not despite the opening line and title being a Lana Del Rey song lol. Anyways, I love you guys bunches and enjoy!

“It’s not about wanting someone to love me anymore.”

The words deeply rooted in his brainstem and planted itself as an excuse not to deepen things between the two.

The experience between her legs and the fullness of her breasts were easier to consume than the parasitic emotion of love that had burrowed itself in the pit of his stomach and infested his heart.

True to his observant nature, the CIA agent observed his lover from afar.

‘1…2…3.’

He had grown into the obsessive habit of counting her long lashes and taking in her freckles that dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky across her plump cheeks and down the bridge of her nose.

Russell longed for some macabre turn of events that would transform the little woman into nothing more than a sleeper agent of sorts. If he had his way, he would keep her hidden away from the worst of the world and induced in an LSD filled haze to keep her subdued, only to be awoken when he needed to feel her plush cunt weeping for him.

But much to his dismay, she wasn’t a sleeper agent.

She was anything but a mindless, lethargic, inactive field agent.

This was the woman who had the fantastical ability of catching the light even in the darkest rooms with her gator-skinned boots and mod eyes that were made of moonlight and finished with that flick of noir eyeliner that he loved seeing smeared on his pillowcases.

He often found himself on the cusp of wanting to reach over to use his fingertips to tuck the singular strand that always found itself laying oddly on her high forehead.

At work, the two would act like total strangers to each other under the restrictions Russell had set in place after the first time she found her orgasm with him while working late at night.

But at three AM, he had longed to hear her pleas to get under the shower after riding him, her lips were always set with the intent of kissing and catching the droplets of water that seeped into the scar that was etched deeply into his face and ran down the girth of his neck.

He had waited patiently to fall out of love with her.

‘It’s just a fuck, just like a handshake.’

But like the test subject of the MKULTRA project, he was driven to madness by her trials of sweetness and intoxicating beauty.

#oneshot #fanfic #just for fun #writing inspiration #russell adler #russell adler x reader #cod cold war #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #angst

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neon-junkie · 2 years

Text

Why can’t this be Love? - Chpt.1

Summary: You've never really fit in, despite trying, despite being on the cheerleading team, despite awkwardly socialising with the popular crowd. It's not for you - these people aren't for you. Yet, you don't know how to escape! Do you continue following a dead end? Or finally break away?

The answer is made for you after your 'date,' a boy on the basketball team, bails on you, and uninvites you from some stupid basketball after party. Whatever, that's fine. But what's not fine is the agonisingly long walk home. Oh, in the dark, late at night!

However, your saviour finds you, and not only does he save you from walking home alone, but the conflicting feelings that you've spent the last few years with.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Cheerleader Reader

Reader Description: Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Not much detail is given about her appearance, other than she wears heavy eyeliner, and is clearly an outcast that is trying to fit in.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow burn, Awkward flirting, Drinking, Angst, Comfort, Generic High School Bullying, Denial of feelings, Feelings realisation.

[Chapter 2] [Read on AO3]

Notes: oh my gooddddd. EDDIE!!! AHHHHHH!!!! hes so fucking cute!!!!!!!! this man has brought me out of my writers block that i've been suffering with for MONTHS.

I haven't written anything for ST before, so sorry if anything is out of character. I also have no fucking clue how American schools work, so I'm going to avoid mentioning it at all costs. The schooling system in the UK is waaaay different!!

This is set a good couple of months before S4 starts. Fic title is inspired by a Van Halen song hehe.

Anyway, enjoy. This is gonna be a series. IDK how long it'll be, but we'll see where this freak takes us!

Chapter 1 - Curbside Collection

Boys.

Stupid boys.

Stupid boys, or specifically, a singular boy, that has bailed on you after tonight's first-of-the-year basketball game.

Really, what did you expect?

"I want to spend tonight with the guys," your date had said. "You can get a ride home with Misty, right?" he asked, referring to your friend - your friend that hadn't even come to tonight's game, considering she isn't into the sport, let alone in with the 'popular crowd.'

Not that you are, either.

Cheerleading is something that your parents pushed on you, back in Middle school, back when they thought their "darling little girl" was somewhat ordinary. Back when you hadn't discovered rock music, Lord of the Rings, and skinny jeans.

But, oh god, you would never show those things to your parents! To them, you're their perfect high grade daughter, who's excelling in her classes, and attends cheerleading training twice a week.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that you were the 'weirdo' of the bunch, the strange girl that is always shoved into the heaviest point of the cheer pyramid, carrying everyone's weight, whilst those on top get all the praise for their "fantastic tricks!"

Regardless, despite your heavy eyeliner and brooding expression, you somehow managed to catch the attention of a boy on the basketball team. It was probably a dare, which would explain why he's bailing on you now, leaving you to walk a few miles home, alone, in the dark...

Fuck!

After zipping up your jacket, you begin your soon-to-be exhausting walk home - a walk that would have been far quicker in your 'dates' car. At least it's not cold tonight; there's a slight chill to the September air, but you'll soon warm up once you get moving, and maybe when you crack open one of the few ciders in your backpack. The ciders that were meant to be saved for tonight's after party, but it seems you're uninvited...

A bottle of cider is pulled from your backpack, and once the chilled bottle comes to rest in the palm of your hand, you suddenly realise that you don't have anything to open it with. Fuck. Can God give you a break already?!

Your mind trails back to a trick you saw a few months ago, where one of the basketball lads opened a bottle using the side of the curb. You wander another street onwards before deciding to attempt that trick, wanting to be out of view of the school, and your classmates, who thankfully live in the opposite direction to you.

One knee meets the gravelled road as you crouch down, bringing the bottle of cider into position. You let out an uneasy sigh as you remember how that guy did it; he used the heel of his hand to crack the cap against the curb, and after a few attempts, the cap popped right off. Of course, he called it "easy," but after your first few attempts, the cap is definitely not budging, and your hand is slowly starting to throb with every hit.

"For fuck’s sake," you curse as you hit it one more time, desperate for the taste of lukewarm cider, a stranger that'll keep you company on your painful walk home.

One more hit, and you let out a grumble as you give up. Your head rolls back to the sky, and whilst still in cheerleader uniform, you let out a soft, "fuck," cursing God (or whatever is up there) for not letting you have a drink on the walk home.

That's when a chuckle catches your attention, and you lock sights with the last person you'd ever expect to interact with.

"Are you trying to open it? Is that what you're trying to do?" Eddie Munson asks with a cheeky smile on his lips. He's leaning against a lamp post, mere meters away from you. His arms are crossed, with one hand fiddling with the ends of his curly hair, almost as if he's nervous, but covering it up.

Eddie is, from what you've seen, a strange guy. And you don't just mean because he likes rock music, and plays D&D. Oh, no, there's something about this man that isn't quite right. Trauma? Perhaps? Shit, maybe you two have something in common.

You've never interacted, minus a brief interaction a few days ago. Your 'date' had shot him a degrading comment after passing him in the halls, and Eddie had responded with a laugh, and a comment that had you almost in tears.

"Your jeans are always so tight, Munson. No wonder your dick's so small, it must be suffocating in there," your date had sneered. A weak comment, but whatever, you just wanted to get to your next lesson, but someone was eager for a fight. It must have been his hormones acting up, or just boys being boys.

Eddie, despite being on his own, a lone wolf without the company of his misfits, had chuckled as he chalked up his reply. "Oh, he's just fine. He's a little sore right now," Eddie replied.

Your date raised his brow, and Eddie continued his comeback. "I mean, fucking your mom is a tiring chore, but someone has to do it, right? Which is why I'm able to fit in these tight jeans."

You couldn't help but laugh. A 'your mom' joke? Classic.

Your date shot you a disgusted glance, and hey, maybe that's the reason why he ditched you tonight. Maybe it's been sitting on his mind this whole time - his beloved cheerleader had giggled at a joke that the freak Munson has cast. How sensitive!

Coming back to the present, you let out a defeated, "yeah."

Eddie chuckles once more, although you know he's not laughing at you, but rather, with you. "I'm surprised your boyfriend isn't here to thirst your quench," Eddie comments with a shrug.

"Boyfriend," you scoff under your breath. "He's never been my boyfriend, especially not now."

Eddie looks genuinely sympathetic, and bridges the space between you two with a few lanky strides. "I take it you really need that drink then, huh?"

A nod is all you need. No puppy dog eyes, no heart-warming story. Eddie takes the bottle from your grasp, and pops the cap off by using one of his chunky rings, rather than the curb. He smiles as you take a large gulp, instantly feeling a buzz throughout your body, despite it being no more than 4% alcohol.

Placing the bottle down on the curb, you swing your backpack over your shoulder once more, and say, "here," as you pull out another cider, and offer it to Eddie.

"Are you sure?" Eddie questions, only to be taken back as you shove the cider into his hands.

He pops the cap off his own cider, and grins before taking a gulp. "Here," Eddie repeats as he offers you his hand, pulling you up from your awkward gremlin pose, now with an open bottle of cider in your hand. Your backpack is slung over your shoulders, and a small gust of wind follows the movement, dancing along the hemline of your skirt - a minor movement, but you're certain Eddie's eyes trailed down there before meeting yours.

"So..." Eddie groans. "Do I dare ask where your 'not boyfriend' is?"

"Probably at the after party. I dunno," you shrug.

Eddie's thumb reassuringly rubs over the back of your knuckles, and only then do both of you realise that your hand is still in his. You both break away, begrudgingly, but hey, maybe it's for the best? The freak holding hands with the weirdo cheerleader is a rumour that'd spread like hot fire around the school, and you don't fancy dealing with the backlash.

"Woah, hang on," Eddie nervously laughs as he raises his spare hand. "You mean, you've been uninvited to the after party? Or are you refusing to attend?"

"Your first assumption was right," you shrug, and take a swig from your drink. "Well, I think I was?"

Eddie remains quiet, but raises both brows with a gesture that silently reads, 'go on.'

After grumbling, you begin explaining. "I don't know what happened. Tonight was normal, or as normal as it can be. I was cheering, and he was playing basketball, but as soon as the game was over, he approached me, and said that he wanted to spend tonight with his friends..."

Eddie nods softly, listening to you ramble, using him like a therapist, still standing on your lonesome on the side of the road.

"...His friends were in the background, and they were... laughing. I just accepted it and left. When I went to change out of my uniform, the other girls were also laughing, so I didn't bother changing. I just grabbed my bag and left."

Your eyes focus on the floor as you let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as disappointment takes over, and there's faint tears brewing in the corner of your eyes. Despite not being able to see Eddie's expression, you can feel sympathy radiating from him, and in a wild daydream, you'd throw yourself into his arms in hopes of finding comfort.

Little do you know, Eddie would happily comfort you.

"So..." Eddie heavily exhales, bringing your attention back to him. "Let me walk you home, then."

Your expression softens, no longer casting an imaginary scowl at your ex-not-boyfriend. Eddie Munson, the freak, has not only helped you open your cider, and listened to your therapy worthy rant, but also wants to walk you home?!

Obviously, you're going to accept his kind gesture. Being a woman has waaaaay too many flaws, and walking home alone is one of the main ones. Having Eddie there almost eliminates that target, even if Eddie is lanky, and only fights using the roll of a dice.

However, what is going to come of this if someone sees you two? A cheerleader and a freak, walking home together, joint ciders in hand. Fuck, both of you are going to get it in the neck, and probably from the same bunch of people. Social circles aren't meant to cross, especially opposite ones, but you've never really fit into the 'popular' squad.

"You're more than welcome to say 'no,'" Eddie sheepishly comments, his eyes trailing from yours to focus on his cider instead.

Shit. You moron! You haven't even responded!

"No. I mean, yes! I'd love for you to walk me home, but do you live this way? I don't want you going out of your way to-"

"-Yeah," Eddie cuts you off. "Sure, I live this way," he shrugs.

Ugh, he's lying!! However, you don't fancy rejecting his offer - not only is it a bonus to walk home with someone, but he's also so... interesting. Entreating. Perhaps even... cute? With that curly, untamed hair, and his lanky frame that reminds you of a baby deer attempting to walk for the first time.

"Come on, Princess," Eddie says with a light laugh as he takes a few strides forwards, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Let's get you home!"

Taglist: @bubblegumcat229, @buckys2thicc

If you would like to join the taglist, then please drop me a message!!

#strangerwriting #stranger things #why cant this be love #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #female reader #f!reader #fem reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things s4

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tiredlilguy · 9 months

Text

Too Close

a/n: the way that this was like three different documents. i was listening to sir chloe's "too close". the song has nothing related to the fic, but it gave me the idea for the title and the concept. sorry, i keep writing about music stuff... i just like the theme/au for some reason, so i keep writing about it. i hope u enjoy! ^^

pairing: Lippman x Indie Singer!GN!Reader cw: N/A, not proofread desc: you and Lippman had a falling out, but there were still remaining feelings between the two of you. you sent him an invitation to your latest concert in a smaller venue with a note attached. he chooses to go...

Walking downstairs to the venue, Lippman showed his ticket, allowing him entrance in the underground venue. This particular concert on your tour was in a small bar: it was one of the more intimate venues, and so therefore, one of the most sought out for tickets. Thankfully, that wasn’t something very hard to be put in Lippmann’s grasp, as he was quick to receive a ticket. However… that ticket was from none other than you, as you had sent him a small note with a ticket attached:

“ Feel free to come. I’d like to speak with you afterwards, if that’s ok with you… no old feelings attached.”

At first, he raised a brow. He thought you were done with him, but strangely enough, the letter that he was given seemed to be a flat out invitation. He silently accepted, deciding that maybe you’d still had remaining feelings just like he did. After grabbing a cup of whiskey in hand, he made his way to the front. He was dressed in something just a little bit more casual: a concert outfit with a long white skirt and a black t-shirt. He’d done his eyeliner that night, having small wings at the end of his eyes.

You two went way back, when he was signed under his past talent agency. You were a producer under said agency and he was working as an aspiring actor. Having met after a couple of passings in the hallway, he’d got the courage to take you out for coffee. You’d gotten closer with him and confessed your feelings. He reciprocated those feeling back, and you two were a happy couple. Though, once his career really started to hit off, you had both started to keep your relationship under wraps. It was no problem for you, as you started to gain yourself a small audience of fans as well. Everything was going fine until… one fated night where you witnessed him kill a man one night at the old pool hall he spent most of his nights at. You’d become afraid of him, not wanting to associate yourself with him any longer. However, it wasn’t an easy let-down, as you both still had remaining feelings for each other.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed down and it was time for you to perform. You walked out with your band with a confident smile. Picking up the mic, you smiled, introducing yourself to the crowd of Yokohama,” Thank you for coming tonight…! Intimate crowd, eh? It’s good to see you all!”

People cheered, some hollered, others clapped. Your eyes traveled towards the front of the stage and off to the side. You noticed Lippman raising his cup at you with a smile. You looked at him just a bit longer before taking a breathe and grinning.

“ Let’s get started, shall we?,” you shouted out to the crowd, adjusting your guitar over your shoulder. The band had started playing as you plucked a couple of strings to start off the music. As time went by, you had seemed to be entertaining the audience quite well. The songs went by throughout the night, as you seemed to captivate the audience with your charm. Lippman felt like he was some sort of a ghost in the moment, but yet he couldn’t help but feel rather captivated by you. You seemed so confident and beautiful on the stage… it was almost like you were unreachable. However, he wasn’t a ghost for too long as you had stopped at the middle of your concert. You were given a stool to sit on and you looked over at him. He hadn’t seemed to be paying attention, so you stared at him a little bit harder. Eventually, he blinked, realizing that your attention was on him.

“ This is for someone special…,” you spoke into the microphone,” I think they might like this, so I’ll make sure to sing it from the heart.” He realized that you were talking about him. As you strummed along with your guitar, your voice flooded the room. For a moment, it felt like it was just you two in this small venue. He was speechless to say the least, as you sung out words of a love song: longing for his touch, wishing to be held by him once again. Lippman watched as you finished singing, the audience clapped and cheered. You looked over to him with a gentle smile before continuing on with the show.

…

It was finally the end of the concert, and Lippman was called back by a security guard. He followed the guard, as he was taken to the dressing rooms backstage. You were there waiting for him in the hallway with your arms crossed as you hand your phone in your hand. You looked up from your phone and smiled, running up to him with your arms out.

He ran past the security guard, running up and hugging you back. You let out a laugh as you wrapped your arms around him. Lippman quickly picked you up, spinning you around before placing you down gently. It was almost like there was no falling out between the two of you, and that things were back to the way they were.

“ Oh my stars…! That was just beautiful, darling!!!,” he pulled away slightly so he could see your face,” Who knew you were such a charmer on stage? I’m so proud of you.”

“ I’m glad you enjoyed the show,” you smiled, hugging him again before pulling away,” Come here, I want to talk to you about something.”

“ I look forward to it. Seems as though nothing ever happened back then, huh?”

“ Well… I did say ‘no old feelings attached’. I’m just really glad that you came,” you smiled.

You reached out to grab his hand, pulling him towards the dressing room. You let him in as you closed the door behind you. There was no one else in there, and you softly locked the door. You leaned yourself back onto him, as he wrapped your arms around you once again.

“ Hm…,” you muttered close to his face,” I missed you.”

“ I missed you quite a lot as well,” he replied, moving one of his hands to move a hair out of your face. His touch was feather light… like it always used to be.

“ Would you let me kiss you again?”

“ Of course,” he smirked, pulling your closer to him. He breathed in before kissing you deeply. You kissed back just a deep, with as much lingering of how much you’d missed him. Eventually, you both pulled away.

“ I thought you’d wanted me to never see you again,” Lippman gasped for air slightly.

“ I think I changed my mind…,” you answered,” It’s been a lonely few months without you. I even wrote a whole album because of you.”

“ I noticed, though you performed it so well, I wouldn’t have even though about it,” his hand rubbed your back up and down in a comforting motion.

“ Anyways, what I’m trying to say,” you leaned your head down a bit in embarrassment,” I’d like to get back together to you…”

Lippman felt something within his chest swell once again. Everything around him seemed to be nonexistent, as if you were the only thing he could see. However, he quickly cleared his throat,” I’d like that too… but you are aware of the consequences of being with me. I’m a mafioso after all…”

“ Yeah, but I think I’m ok with the danger…,” you answered,” After finding out that you were a mafioso… I was scared, so I ran away, but I forgot something…”

“… and what might that be…?”

“ I forgot how safe I felt in your arms,” you answered, looking off to the side,” It made me anxious being away from you, and I couldn’t stand it for much longer… That’s why I chose this bar and a more intimate space, just to invite you here to sing the one song I’ve been meaning to sing to you for a while… I hope that’s enough to prove my loyalty. I’m sorry for running away.”

Lippman blushed, staring at your shy expression. He sighed, smiling at you as his hand reached up to your cheek,” You’re a doll… I guess you do have a beautiful way with words.”

“ Not like you’re that innocent either,” you poked his chest.

“ Come here, you,” he pulled you closer to him… well if there was any more space to get rid of between you two, as he pulled you in for a kiss.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #lippman bsd #lippman bsd x reader #bsd lippman #lippman x reader #bsd the flags #bsd the flags x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #mono writes

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banannabethchase · 4 months

Note

helloooo! for the spotify prompt: 7 hangmox

Like You Damn Hate Me - also on AO3

It's an ugly sweater party at AEW, and Adam gets a glimpse at Mox's sweater. Which is definitely making fun of him.

Thanks love! Seven is FUCKBOY by REVENGEOFPARIS. So. Here we go! Also, I combined this with December prompt challenge day 17 "ugly sweaters". True chaos moments. Title from the above song.

Adam’s jaw drops as he sees Mox swagger in. He knows exactly what he’s doing in that shirt, and Adam can’t decide if he wants to fuck him or kill him for it.

He looks down at his own ugly sweater. While the cows were cute, maybe he should have gone with the “it’s not gonna lick itself” candy cane sweater.

He spends the Christmas party fuming, flicking his eyes over to where Mox is laughing and joking with Yuta and Bryan. They can’t possibly know.

“What is wrong with you?” Nick hisses. “You’re acting like you’re about to kill somebody.” He follows Adam’s eyeline before Adam can look away. “Oh, for the love of god. Him again?��

“I – again?” Adam asks.

“Yeah,” Nick says, eying him. “You forget that months long feud you two had?”

“Feud,” Adam says, relaxing. “Right. Yeah, that.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Jesus. If you two start getting obsessed with each other again, I can’t promise I won’t make fun of you about it.”

Adam snorts. “Sure. Okay.”

He doesn’t mention that he and Mox have been doing stupid shit behind the scenes for almost a year now.

“I don’t want to know what that expression is for,” Nick mutters.

“Okay, you can’t say shit with the way you and Claudio keep looking at each other.”

Nick’s eyes widen. “How did you – what?!”

Adam laughs. “Really? Shit. I was joking.” He claps Nick on the shoulder. “Go get yours, buddy.”

Nick is spluttering after him as Adam makes his way to the snack table, an eye on the cheese platter. He’s about to grab a plate when somebody yanks at a belt loop.

He turns around to find the perpetrator swaggering away. He can only be sure it was Mox who yanked him by the middle finger pointed toward him.

“Asshole,” Adam grumbles. He looks around quickly – Matt’s mid-conversation with Nyla, Nick’s god knows where, and Kenny’s making out with Kota in the corner. He’s in the clear.

Adam follows Mox out into the hallway and looks around briefly, only to feel a hand on his arm yank him into a room.

“What the –”

Mox kisses him without another word, hands up and under his sweater, and Adam falls against the wall. He kicks out to make sure the door closes behind them. He moans, just a little bit, when he feels Mox’s nails dig into his skin.

Mox pulls back and laughs. “Eager.”

“You’re the one who yanked me into a,” he looks beyond Mox’s shoulder, “conference room to fuck.”

Mox shrugs. “I mean, I could rail you on the desk, but I don’t think we have the time. Or the lube.”

Adam curses the lack of decent sized pockets in these jeans. “Nope.”

Mox sighs. “Guess I’ll just have to give you my big package another time.”

Adam groans. “Fuck off. I can’t believe,” he says, shoving Mox against the wall, “you’re making fun of my bad dirty talk using an ugly Christmas sweater.” He drops to his knees and undoes Mox’s belt. “You fucking douche.”

Mox laughs, pulling his hips off the wall to help Adam get his jeans down. Adam doesn’t even bother taking them off. He just pulls Mox’s dick out of his boxers, already hard. “You don’t seem to be complaining.” He looks down at Adam, blue eyes sparkling. “You ready for my big package?”

“I’m gonna bite your dick off,” Adam grumbles, but he sinks his mouth around Mox’s cock and covers his teeth with his lips. He expects Mox to shut up, at least for a second, but he keeps talking.

“It’s not your fault your dirty talk was terrible,” Mox muses. “I knew what you were trying to do. The execution just sucked.”

Adam pulls back. “Not the only thing that sucks.”

Mox rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know.” He slides his fingers into Adam’s hair and pulls him back down onto his dick and Adam sucks it between his lips greedily. Mox keeps teasing him as Adam bobs on his dick, the fingers in his hair guiding more than pulling, but it’s still great. Adam’s hard against the zipper of his jeans and he slides a hand down to press at it, just a bit.

“Yeah?” Mox says, and he’s finally sounding a little breathless. “You like my package?”

Adam pulls off and glares. “Stop making fun of me or I won’t let you fuck me again.”

Mox juts his lower lip out, so mocking Adam wants to kick him. “Aw, really?”

“Yes.”

“Doubt it.”

Adam stands up and shoves two fingers in Mox’s mouth, who sucks hungrily. “You’re fucking impossible,” Adam grumbles, shoving his jeans down with his free hand. He gets his dick out and sighs. “Get ‘em wetter.”

“Yessir,” Mox says, garbled around Adam’s fingers. When he seems more focused on being annoying, Adam yanks his fingers out and spits in his hand. Mox makes a weird noise.

“What?” Adam asks, wrapping his hand around both their cocks. “You were taking too long.”

Mox groans as Adam starts to stroke. “Fuck, Cowboy,” he mutters, bucking up into Adam’s grip. Adam’s embarrassingly close from almost no touching, and he hates it.

“Desperate for it, aren’t you,” Adam says, stroking faster. “Little fuck boy, looking to get his dick wet from anybody.”

Mox exhales hard, an iron grip on Adam’s bicep. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he pants. “Where was this dirty talk last week?” His eyes flutter closed.

“Yeah?” Adam asks. “Not makin’ fun me of me now, are you?”

“No,” Mox chokes out. “Fuck, Adam, I’m gonna –”

“Come all over that sweater,” Adam growls. “Show everybody how much you like my package.”

“Alright, fine, your dirty talk is good,” Mox moans, but there’s a laugh behind it, and he comes all over the shirt and Adam’s dick. He slaps Adam’s hand away and curls a hand around Adam’s dick, stroking furiously. Mox’s come makes the glide incredible, and Adam has the wherewithal to tilt his hips just enough that he comes on Mox’s sweater, not his own. Whatever he says is a little too close to Mox’s name for his liking, so he cuts it off with a, “Fuck me,” as he tries to get his breathing back under control.

Mox grins. “Thought I just did.” He looks down at his sweater and frowns. “Sure fuckin’ looks like it.”

Adam steps back and tucks himself back into his jeans, adjusting his waistband. “Yeah. Good luck going out there without somebody asking questions.” He winks. “You got a shirt under that?”

Mox glares and carefully pulls the sweater off over his head. “Yeah.”

Adam takes a second to read it. “Oh, I hate you.”

“What?” Mox asks, stretching the shirt out. “I figured it was too much, which is why I got the other one.”

“That’s not the problem!” Adam says. “I almost bought that one, but the cows were cute.” He looks down. “I feel like maybe I should have leaned in to the sex jokes, though.”

Mox shrugs. “Maybe. I gotta find a place to throw this thing away now.” He frowns. “Fifty bucks down the drain.”

“You spent fifty bucks on that?!” Adam exclaims as he adjusts his belt and jeans. “Jesus.”

“I had to rush ship it,” Mox says. He walks out of the room so casually, hips forward, and Adam hates how good it looks. “Was gonna wear just the shirt, but then you tried to dirty talk and sucked at it last week.” He throws a grin over his shoulder. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Mox –”

Before he can properly warn him, Mox collides with Nick.

“Why’s your hair messed up?” Adam asks before Nick can ask what he’s doing.

“Why’s your hair messed up?” Nick retorts. He frantically throws his hair into a bun, but, unlike with Adam’s curly hair, it’s incredibly obvious that the bun is a mess. “Why are you with him?” Nick’s eyes narrow. “Oh, no. He doesn’t have his sweater on.”

“Took it off,” Mox says, balling it up tighter. “It’s hot in here.”

“Is not,” Nick says.

“Nicholas,” Claudio says. “I – oh, hello, Jon.”

Mox looks back at Adam then back at Claudio.

“Okay,” Adam says. “What if – hear me out – this moment never happened, and we all go back to the party blissfully unaware of each other’s sexual exploits?”

“Don’t tell Matt,” Nick says. “That’s all I ask.”

Adam snorts. “Yeah. Ditto. We agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Nick looks over at Mox. “Your shirt is stupid.”

“So’s your face.”

Nick glances at Adam over Mox’s shoulder. “Seriously? Him?”

Adam shrugs. “He’s good in bed. What can I say.”

Mini Playlist: Merry Christmas, Kiss My Ass - All Time Low All I Want for Christmas Is You - Bowling for Soup think later - Tate McRae FUCKBOY - REVENGEOFPARIS

Mox is wearing this ugly sweater, this ugly shirt, and Adam is wearing this one.

#HangMox #driadorim #Hello thank you for this prompt it was fun!!!#wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes #anxious millennial dreamboat #madly in love with leather daddy jon moxley

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