#if you don’t like Stevie Nicks go away

[daddysroyalwhore]

“I turned around

And the water was closing all around

Like a glove

Like the love that had finally, finally found me

Then I knew

In the crystalline knowledge of you

Drove me through the mountains

Through the crystal-like a clear water fountain

Drove me like a magnet

To the sea”

[ace-turned-confused]

spin me around | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all word count: 2,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a dress, way too much music talk, food & alcohol consumption, pet names, touching in public, dirty talk a/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! i saw record store on your wheel and ran away with it - this is highly self-indulgent with the music references (like woah) but what better place for it than secret springs :) not beta'd, keep slaying

The stair treads creak as you head up to the second floor, blank CDs are fastened to the risers and old warped vinyl hangs from the ceiling. A faint melody floats down the stairwell that you don’t recognise, the instrumentals rising in a crescendo as you climb, the varnished railing worn and knotted.

You’d found this place online on your quest for a bargain, the secondhand vintage vinyl shop is situated on a fashionable street at the top of town with picturesque mountain views. After stalking their social media pages, you decided you’d just come and see it for yourself. Having mentally prepared yourself for parallel parking, it was unusually stress-free for a Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to warm the air.

Reaching the landing and glancing around, the room is essentially wallpapered with band posters, crates and crates of records are alphabetically organised, and a gallery of LPs sits on shelves behind the counter. A few customers are rifling through the various collections, one man perched on a barstool with headphones wired into a cassette player. The space is light and vibrant, it feels like a sacred haven.

What really catches your eye is the man behind the counter — unruly silver-streaked hair, trimmed moustache and greying beard, unreasonably broad shoulders that fill out his faded thin t-shirt.

“Mornin’!” He looks up as you round the bannister and flashes you a winning smile, his brown eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the windows. “Anythin’ in particular you lookin’ for?”

You greet him shyly as you enter the room, “Just came to look around, thanks.”

“No problem.” He turns back to his newspaper and you can’t help but stare, stuck in place as you think you’ve found far more than you could’ve imagined.

-

The sheer number of records fitted into the quaint shop is amazing, with some dividers spilling over into two or three boxes. Flipping through the S category, you find Sade, Stealers Wheel, Steppenwolf, Stevie Nicks, and countless others — a never-ending supply of artists and albums, some popular and some obscure.

Your eyes go wide at seeing Pretzel Logic, a favourite album by a favourite band. You’ve considered for weeks whether or not to just buy the damn thing online at full price, but you never did. Now you see why, some sort of divine intervention leading you here to snatch it up at a fraction of the cost — or it led you here for that man.

You’ve been peering over to him every time you move to the next crate — crinkles around his eyes, plush lips, deft hands. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is, hidden away up here from the rest of the world. Admittedly you tried looking if he had a wedding band on, but you scolded yourself before you could complete the task, not wanting to get caught.

Time slips away from you as you switch between scouring through everything and stealing glances at the mystery music man, your fingers cramping from holding onto far more records than you’d planned to take. You scan over the tables and check for anything you may have missed, slinking through the room and placing your selection on the counter. You rummage in your bag to find your wallet.

“Fan of Steely Dan, huh? Gaucho, Pretzel Logic, Countdown to Ecstasy… You’re cleaning me out here, darlin’.” You lift your head at his words, losing yourself at the endearment.

“Yeah, uh… couldn't help myself,” you huff a laugh, feeling heat under your skin as he keeps his attention on you, a half smile on his face. “I did pick out some others, too. For some variation, you know?”

He fans the records out on the table to see each one.

“Yeah, thought you might be a Fleetwood Mac girl, Eagles is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one… Steely Dan, though? Wouldn't have pinned a girl like you as a fan of ‘em.”

“A girl like me…?”

“Far too pretty.” He winks at you with a tilt of his head, that half smile now spread fully across his face before he moves to add up the total. Your mind races as you try not to stand and gawk like an idiot.

“I saw online you had Dark Side of the Moon… do you uh, still have it, by any chance?”

“Full of surprises… I’m afraid we sold that one already, noticed it’s a bit of an elusive find ‘round here.” He drums his fingers against the wooden top and looks at you briefly, his eyes warm.

Shuffling papers around, he picks up a notepad, big hands and thick fingers dwarfing the pages. “I can keep an eye out for you, if you’re okay giving me your number? Won’t bother you, just business.”

“Yeah, sure.” His fingers graze across your skin as you take a pen from him and write down your information. Tearing the page off, you slide it across the counter and tease him, “Wouldn’t mind if you bothered me.”

“Well then, maybe I will. I’d love to know what else you got in your carefully curated collection.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you pay for the records, and he slips them into a brown paper bag, folding and unfolding the top like he doesn’t want you to leave.

“There’s actually this nice restaurant—” he turns to look behind him, grabbing a small carton and repositioning it on the counter, stalling as he tries to find the words, “—they have uh, live music on Friday nights… if you’d be interested.”

“Sounds fun…” You mull it over, impressed by his boldness but still wary. “Can I let you know?”

“‘Course, no pressure, here,” he writes his own number on a new page and tears it off, holding on as you reach for it and brush your fingers over his hand.

“And you are?”

“Joel Miller.”

Joel Miller. You quite like that.

-

You’d stared at Joel’s number for days, a constant back and forth on whether or not you should go. On the one hand, you knew nothing about this man except his name and where he worked; on the other, you’ve seen just enough of him to be well intrigued… 

You caved and said yes, which brings you to the present day — it’s Friday afternoon and you’re pacing in front of your wardrobe, worried about what to wear. To avoid losing your mind over this, you text Joel for some insight.

You: So, what am I supposed to wear tonight?Joel: Place is smart casual, I guess

Smart casual — arguably the worst fucking dress code description in existence.

You: That doesn’t help meJoel: Just wear a dress or something nice? I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect

Perfect? Well, that certainly raises the bar. You suspect that Joel isn’t impressed by material things, and isn’t phased by flashy appearances, but you still want to make an effort. He called you pretty once already and you’re hoping he’ll repeat it tonight.

-

Approaching the restaurant, the brick wall facade is lined with fairy lights, the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and muffled music sounds through the windows and glass doors.

Joel waits out on the pavement like a gift from God himself — black dress pants, a hint of chest peeking out from behind his button-up, a blazer hooked on one finger over his shoulder. You can’t help the way your gaze runs over him, noticing how his tummy just pokes out past the waistband of his pants, and just how well fitting those pants really are. You swallow to steady yourself.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

You fall into silence as you take each other in — a low heat settles at the base of your spine and you drop your eyes to the floor, holding back a giggle like an enamoured schoolgirl.

“Shall we?” He pulls the door open and gestures for you to lead the way, eyes sparkling and a crooked but warm smile on his face, a guiding hand on the small of your back as you step inside.

Black-framed minimalist posters line the walls, the floors are polished dark wood and exposed brass light fixtures hang at varying heights from the ceiling. You pass a long, elegant bar lining one side of the room as you’re led towards the back of the restaurant — this place oozes sophistication, even the waitstaff are in fancy uniforms. Not smart casual.

Joel pulls a chair out for you as you reach your table, a small reserved card rests against a floating candle and two red roses bloom in a slender vase. 

“Do you mind if I take the wall?” you ask timidly, pointing towards the opposite bench.

“Not at all.” His gaze is soft as he shakes his head, eyes trained on you as you both take your seats.

“I just— I like being able to see, it’s uh…”

You smooth your hands over the tablecloth as your voice fades off, resisting the urge to make a game of blowing the candle out. You flit your eyes up to look at Joel, finding he’s already staring at you, candlelight flickering in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the table again, failing dismally at suppressing the grin that spreads across your face.

“You look gorgeous, by the way — if you don’t mind me sayin’. Knew you would, of course, but…”

It seems your outfit choice has paid off — gorgeous?

After hours of flinging clothes off hangers, you’d finally settled on a black, mid-length dress — a sweetheart neckline with white piping, the same white mirrored on the hem, a daring slit up one side of the skirt. There’s nothing casual about it, but seeing Joel dressed up and the finely decorated restaurant has calmed your nerves.

You don’t dare look at him again as the waiter returns and places two menus on the table. The night’s barely begun, and you hope it doesn’t end any time soon.

-

There hasn’t been a lull in the conversation once during dinner, a sharing dessert now in the centre of the table as Joel swirls what’s left of his whiskey around the glass. He held back all evening, fingers twitching and curling into a loose fist alongside yours on the table until he finally allowed himself to dance them across the back of your hand.

“How’d you get into all this record business?”

“Started workin’ there on weekends as a kid, wanted to earn some pocket money. The old man who owned it was like a mentor, he taught me all about the world. He left it all in my hands when he retired, and I’ve never looked back.”

A fond smile on his face as he retells his memories, you saw the first day you met how happy and comfortable he was in his charming shop, and it seems that charm bleeds over into him, too.

“And you get to meet all kinds of people — loud, friendly, aloof… pretty ones, too.” He gives you the same wink and devilish grin as before, continuing his stories as if you aren’t burning across the table.

-

Sometime during the night, he’d moved to sit next to you, claiming he ‘wanted to see the band’ — the arm draped on the bench behind you and fingers trailing across your shoulder says otherwise.

He mentioned at the shop that there was live music here on Friday nights — the one thing he didn’t mention? That tonight’s particular band was a jazz quartet — the slow, smooth, romantic kind of jazz, the kind that acts as the perfect backdrop for a night of cheeky flirting, lingering glances and desperate touches.

“Joel, can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

You roll the edge of the tablecloth between your fingers. “Is this a date?”

“It can be, if you want.” You drop your hands and eye him, unimpressed by his response.

“Alright, I’ll admit, I was hopin’ for a date. I wasn’t really sure how to ask, didn’t wanna come on too strong.”

You’re silent for a beat, considering how to respond. “I mean, you could’ve just asked.”

“Well then, you wanna go on a date?” He tilts his head, eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were already on one.”

He chuckles at your remark, downing the last of his whiskey and momentarily tracing a finger along the rim of the glass. You focus on his movements, imagining his fingers tracing patterns into your skin instead.

As if he can read your mind, he twists himself towards you and plants that same hand just above your knee, fingers curled towards the inside of your leg as he scrapes his nails against you.

“And?” His voice is almost a whisper in your ear, “Has it been a good one?”

He glides his hand up your leg and into the slit of your dress as you nod, higher, higher, higher until his fingers brush against lace. You wonder if he can feel the fabric dampening.

“Y’know the Pink Floyd you asked about? It wasn’t sold, I kept it for myself. I’ll play it for you sometime.”

“You’re gonna talk about music? Right now?”

“What should I talk about instead? The delicate panties you got on? How wet they’re getting?”

Your breath hitches as he shifts his fingers, tucking them just under the edge of your panties and caressing your skin. Glancing around, the band are still playing low and slow, most tables having cleared out by now.

“Would love to see ‘em, if you’ll let me. I’d really love to see what’s underneath though. Pretty girl like you’s bound to have a real pretty pussy, too. Certainly feels like it, Jesus.”

He presses his fingers into you with more force this time and you turn your head to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and not from the dim lighting. He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes again and you close the distance between you. He repositions the arm around your shoulders, hand holding the back of your neck as you lock your legs together and grind yourself against him.

His lips are soft, beard and moustache tickling your skin as he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth. You moan into him as you part your lips, letting him lick into you and you can taste his whiskey. He pulls back and you whine, teasing you with just enough to leave you reeling for more.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel. Please, I need you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna hear the music you can make.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

---------------

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[strniohoeee]

Please? For me

REQUEST: chris and nick catching matt and reader doing it and confronting them. they used to hate eachother but one night they finally figure out that they like eachother but they get caught

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Why was y/n in Matt’s room entertaining him if she hated him so much? The world may never know…

Warning⚠️: SMUTTT, toxic ish?? Idek tbh. I hate this so proceed with caution 😔

Song for imagine: You Know I’m No Good- Any Winehouse

I cheated myself

Like I knew I would

I told you I was trouble

You know that I’m no good

If there’s a God out there please turn a blind eye to this. This seems like a poor judgment of character, but I have my reasons. We all fall to sin sometimes….don't we??

“Hellooooo bitchessss” I yell as I close the front door and walk up the stairs

“Why are you screaming?” Matt asks me coming out of his room with his headphones slung around his neck and his controller in his hand

“I wasn’t screaming just making my presence known” I said trotting into the kitchen area

“Trust me we know when you’re here” he said offering me a sarcastic smile

“Jerk…anyways I’m not here for you I’m here for your brothers” I said rolling my eyes at him

“They’re not home” he said in a duh tone

“Not home? They told me to come over” I said looking down at my phone and seeing no messages from Nick or Chris

“Well they decided to step out for a moment don’t know what to tell you” he said turning on his heels

“Thanks crabby pants” I said huffing at him

“Anytime connect 4” he said with malice on his tongue as he shut his door behind him

Flashback

Looking in the mirror as I pressed more powder onto my face.

“God damnit!” I shout throwing the powder and brush down

Rushing over to my bathroom and turning the light on, stomping over to the mirror and looking in the mirror. My face dropped in horror at the sight.

Four huge pimples on either side of my face just days before my 17th birthday. I was throwing a party and I invited pretty much the whole school and this one guy I had a crush on.

I could not make a move on him with these mountains on my face. I vigorously scrubbed the makeup off my face and went to school….red, in pain and embarrassed

Flashback Over

“What the fuck did you just call me?” I say walking to his door and barging in

“Woah! Knock” he says ripping the headset off

“What the hell did you just call me asshole” I said louder as I shoved his shoulder

“Relax it wasn’t that serious” he said shoving my hand away

Flashback

I stared in my bathroom mirror as my party went on. The huge pimples so painful and red I couldn’t even touch it, so even attempting to cover them was out of the question

Already getting weird looks and my crush sitting in my room made me a bit more nauseous. I tried my best to put on a strong suit and walk out. Smoothing out my pants as I inhaled and walked to my bedroom.

“Hey Stevie” I said strolling into my room

“Y/N! Hey! Oh and happy birthday” he said looking at me

“Thank you” I said smiling at him at him before sitting down next to him

“Awesome party by the way” he said awkwardly laughing

“Uhh thanks” I said too getting awkward

He went to open his mouth but my door busted open, to a very giggly Matt walking in.

“WOAHH my bad” he said before realizing it was me

���Matt get out” I said glaring him down

“Did I interrupt something?” He asked growing a smirk

“Get the fuck out” I said rolling my eyes

“Stevie? You and Y/N?” He said furrowing his brows and pointing between the both of us

“Oh nah man” he said laughing a bit

To enraged and embarrassed to even realize what Stevie had just said.

“Matt I said GET OUT” I blared out

“Not a problem and don’t think Stevie’s going to actually like you back I mean not when he can play connect 4 on your face” Matt said bluntly

My face dropped and my heart fell to my stomach. Anger and pain lurking inside me.

Stevie laughed before getting up, looking over his shoulder at me and giving a quick nod of his head and then walking out as he patted Matt on the shoulder.

“You’re such a dick” I said with a lump in my throat

“You’re not so innocent yourself sweetheart” he replied

“Is that all you do? Huh? Walk around ruining everything around you?” I said as tears ran down my face

“Get a grip would you…the world doesn’t revolve around Y/N” he said before slamming my door shut.

That was the last time I ever talked to Matt. My hatred grew for him as each day passed. Connect 4 became my new nickname for the last two years of high school.

Flashback Over

“Relax? Matt you ruined my life by calling me that” I said blinking at him

“Ruined your life? Please give me a break the world doesn’t stop just because you got your feelings hurt 4 years ago” he said throwing his controller down on his desk

“It may not seem like it to you, but you ruined my only chance with that one guy I liked a lot. That is why I hate you” I said crossing my arms over my chest

“You know why I hate you? Because you acted so untouchable throughout middle school and high school. Sweating you were all that and someone had to humble you and unfortunately for you that someone was me” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You taint everything around you, do you know that? You act all high and mighty like you’re untouchable now and guess it’s time for someone to humble you, and that someone will be me” I said with a straight face

“Is that so?” He said standing up and mocking my stance

“Yes it is” I said staring into his eyes

“I hate you” he said spitting his words like venom

“The feelings mutual pal” I said rolling my eyes

“God you’re such a bitch” he replied back

“Is that all you have? I’m a bitch, I’m stuck up, you hate me blah blah blah it’s always the same shit with you” I said motioning with my hands

“Shut up” he said shoving me back

“Don’t put your hands on” I said pushing him back

“Or what? Gonna cry and hate me some more?” He said taunting as he poked me

“I could punch you in the face right now” I said as my nostrils flared

“So then do it. One shot” he said tapping the side of his face

“What a fucking idiot” I said staring at him

“Come on hit me” he said pushing me

“Stop it” I said brushing his hands off

“No no you hate me so much then hit me” he replied pushing me some more

“I fucking said stop” I replied pushing him

I turned around to walk out when Matt grabbed my arm. Without thinking I turned and smacked him. Immediately regretting my choices

His eyes widened and he pushed me up against the wall

“God if I didn’t hate you so much I’d actually really think you’re pretty” he said breathing heavily

“Yeah and if you weren’t such a dick I’d actually think you’re hot” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Fuck I hate you” he said gritting his teeth together

“Do you hate me or do you hate the fact that I never picked you….did you hate that I always found someone better? Hmm?” I replied taunting him

“You wish” he spat back

“I know how you really feel that hatred is called jealousy” I said laughing at him

Matt’s eye twitched a bit as his breathing became heavy. His eyes darted from my lips back to my eyes when suddenly his lips crashed to mine.

Immediately the kiss became hungry….so sloppy and hot nothing but teeth and tongue. Fuck he was such a good kisser I hated this

Finally I shoved him off of me, breathing heavy as I stared him down

“What the fuck” I said wiping my mouth like I didn’t just enjoy what went on

“Does that answer your question?” He said his eyes dark and half lidded

“Fuck you” I spat at him

“I’m planning on it” he said with an evil smirk

Immediately I rushed over to him crashing our lips together again causing him to fall into his chair and I leaned down with him. Keeping our lips connected as his hands came up to caress my face.

Pulling away I looked down at Matt as I removed my sweater leaning back down to pepper kisses from his jawline down to his neck.

“Gonna suck my cock? Use that big mouth of yours for something good?” He asked as he looked down at me

“Why should I?” I said sinking down to my knees

“Please? For me” he said biting his lip as his breathing began to quicken

No matter how much I hated him or thought I hated him I could not deny the burning desire I currently had for this man. My body ached for him…it craved him and I needed to satisfy that hunger.

Removing my shirt as Matt did the same, our eyes locking the whole time.

I stuck my hands in the waistband of his pants sliding them down as he lifted his hips to help me out. His erection slapping his lower stomach as my thighs clenched.

“I guess you act the way you do since your dick is huge” I said looking up at him

“Shut up” he said offering a breathless laugh

I rolled my eyes at him before grabbing his dick. Swirling my tongue around the tip before sinking my head down.

His lower abdomen was tightening as his lower lip went in between his teeth. His right hand came to my scalp and grabbed at the roots.

“Fuck” he mummbled out, hissing as I came back up to the tip sucking on it gently

“Holy fucking baby” he moaned out throwing his head back

Bobbing my head up and down while my hand worked on what couldn’t fit into my mouth. Slurping and hollowing out my cheeks like there was no tomorrow

“Please please get up” he said moaning loudly

“I have to fuck you” he said before pulling me off of him

I stood before him, a man whom I hated yet I was undressing for him??

I slid my pants off before straddling his lap, the creak of his gaming chair scaring me a bit, but nonetheless continuing.

Matt removed my bra for me before attaching his lips to my left breast. Looking up at me through his lashes as I looked down. My lower lip in between my teeth and my hips mindlessly rocked against him

“Fuck Matt” I moaned out running my hands through his hair as he moved to my other breast

Kissing from my collar bones, to my breast and to the valley of my breast.

“When’s you get this tattoo” he asked me referring to the dagger in between my breasts

“About a year ago” I said as his hands massaged my breasts

“I like it wish you showed me when you got it” he said winking at me

“You pervert” I replied laughing

He smiled at me before connecting our lips together. Moving his hands to my ass massaging the skin before helping me grind down against him.

“Matt I need you now” I replied moaning at the feeling

Matt helped me up a bit by pushing my underwear to the side and lining himself up. Slowly helping me sink down on him.

Our mouths dropped at the feeling as I began to grind against him.

“I know this may seem like the wrong time to say this, but I never hated you. I hated that you never liked me” he said hissing as I began to slowly bounce on him

“You never gave me a chance to like you” I replied in a half moan

“I knew you’d never go for a guy like me that why I sabotaged you and Stevie” he replied kissing my shoulder

“I never went for you after that because I thought you were a douche, and you were” I said back

“I’m sorry about it” he said looking up at me

“It’s okay what’s done is done and look if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t be riding your dick right now, now would I?” I said biting my bottom lip and I began to grind down on him

“Fuck” he replied shutting his eyes before nodding his head

Matt helped me bounce up and down on his dick, breathy moans escaping our lips as the chair below us creaked.

Nicks POV

“Chris would you shut the door like you’re not even helping with bags” I say getting frustrated with my brother

“SORRY” he said laughing as he shut the door

We walked up the stairs and placed the bags on the living room floor.

“Where’s Y/N?” Chris asked

“Uhhh is she here?” I asked looking up from digging through one of my bags

“Yeah her purse is on the table” Chris said nodding at me

“Oh my god do you think she and Matt are actually getting along?” I asked Chris

“LETS GO SEE” he said getting excited

“Let me grab her gift I got her” I replied as I dug through the target back and pulled out the pillow I got her

We walked over to Matt’s room

I was bouncing on Matt’s dick as we held eye contact and our jaws slack as we began to get close to our orgasm.

“Fuck baby” I moaned out my hands grabbed at the back of his head

“I’m so cl-

Suddenly the door busted open

“OH MY GOD” Chris yelled

Matt and I stopped looking over at the bedroom door in utter shock

“Holy fuck there’s no way” Chris said frozen in shock

“SORRY” Nick yelled before slamming the door shut

Matt and I looked at each other in shock and embarrassment. The moment was totally ruined. We groaned and got up redressing ourselves before having to do the walk of shame.

We stepped out of Matt’s room and into the living room.

“I’m sorry guys” I said looking at Nick and Chris

“I’m actually scarred for life….my brother fucking my best friend and sworn nemesis” Nick said covering his eyes

“It’s not like that” Matt and I both said

“What’s it like then” Chris said laughing

“Well umm you see we talked it out and then one thing led to the next and then you guys showed up” Matt replied

“I mean I’m so happy you guys don’t hate each other, but I don’t know maybe next time lock the door, or don’t do that?” Nick said

“We’re sorry” I replied to Nick

“No it’s okay I’m just I’m just scarred is all…. I’m going to uhhh go sit in my room and attempt to burn this moment out of my brain” Nick said shuffling up the stairs

“I mean hey good for yall, so uhh I’ll leave you guys alone now and uhh I’ll call if I need you” Chris said awkwardly nodding at us before going down to his room

Matt and I turned to each other laughing about what just took place before heading back to his room. Where things eventually took place….

The End

I hopeee you guys liked this one. I hated it, not shocked. My writing is such ass lately but I’m trying to work on that 😭😭. Love yall and WERE AT 1,820 FOLLOWERS LIKE WHATTTTT🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[prozacwhorehouse]

cooper adams (the butcher) headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

first are just a few general ones bc I can’t really think of this man without it being nsfw🙈🙈

PLEASE go easy on me!! i have never written smut before so i hope it’s good 🙏🙏

barely proofread but readable

- probably an incredible cook. when he cooks, it comes out looking like a professionally made meal. id think it looks and tastes so perfect because he needs it to be perfect - probably throws it away if he adds so much as a grain to many of salt and starts over.

- listens to a lot of 80s music. from bon jovi and madonna to hall and oates and stevie nicks, he’ll always belt out to words in the worst singing voice you’ve ever heard in the car with the windows down, embarrassing riley and logan.

- house is always clean. bed always perfectly made, clothes neatly folded in drawers in colored order. (judging by the way we saw him fix that towel in the bathroom, everything at home needs to look perfect)

- we all know this already, but dad of the year!! fucking loves his kids. always attended riley’s tea parties, raced cars with logan.

- i can’t say that he loves his wife. he seemed more mad to get caught, more than it was his wife who sold him out and who he’d never see again. probably only still with rachel for his kids - he loves them too much and wouldn’t want to complicate their lives, which become complicated in a worse way when he’s caught.

- brings you little gifts all the time. maybe a book you’ve been talking about wanting to read, or a book he recommends to you. if you don’t know he’s the butcher, he’d bring the book to cure your boredom at work, or if you do know he’s the butcher, to keep you entertained while you’re locked in one of his houses 😕

nsfw headcannons 18+, minors dni!!

pretty much just filth

- hires hookers on the reg. like he just has an anger that he can’t show at home, so why not pay a woman to take it 😍on the other hand he’s probably killed multiple of them, couldn’t help himself

- probably wouldn’t kill you. would threaten you with the idea just to scare you, but he wouldn’t. he loves you, he needs you.

- you’re his and only his!! say hello to your new home (one of the houses he bought solely for the purpose of secretly keeping someone I mean you there)😜😜!!

- d word. you have to call him that he won’t accept anything else sorry!! he has control, like i said you belong to him

- brat!tamer through and through!!

- manhandles you he will throw you around on the bed no problem. flipping you on to your back, stomach, what not, moving you if the position you’re in isn’t quite up to his standards, he will move you with FORCE. you’re his toy and let’s be real you’re okay with that

- if youre annoying him he will grab you, throw you on the bed, hold you down, tie your wrists and ankles together, and a scarf is shoved in your mouth and tied harshly behind your head, and he’ll just leave you there. “be quiet,” he slams the door. he can hear your muffled cries from down the hall, but you were distracting him from his work so what other choice did he have than to punish you 🥴

- he’ll come back when he’s done working, could be hours later. he opens the door and you’re laying on the bed, eyes slowly falling shut above your tear streaked cheeks. he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to stroke your cheek with his thumb. your eyes flutter open, a small whimper escaping from around the scarf. “i hope you’ve learned your lesson. about distracting me while i work. now should i leave you here for, let’s say, another few hours, or are you going to be a good girl?” you sniffle and nod your head, he smiles and reaches out to pull the scarf down. he makes quick work of releasing your ties, caressing the chaffed marks left on your skin. “im sorry..” you start, your voice small. you sit on the edge of the bed and rub your wrists, refusing to look up at him - you’re almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.” you hear him smooth out the bedspread behind you. “hey,” he stands in front of you now, holding your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look up at him. “it’s okay. but i need to be able to do my work if i want to keep us safe. you want to stay here with me, don’t you?” you nod, and he pulls you up to your feet. “there she is. let me finish up and then I’ll be in bed soon.” he kisses your forehead and you climb in bed sksjjdndbb

- aftercare is blessed! he’s sweet when he should be - he’ll spread your legs, lift them, do whatever to clean you up with a wet towel. it’s very intricate, he doesn’t miss a spot. hell come with a glass of water, which he holds to your lips for you to sip because he made your body JELLY and you really can’t move. he’ll get in bed and pull you onto his lap so you’re laying on him, legs hiked up on both sides of him. your arms are around his neck, and his hands rest comfortably on your torso. “you took your punishment so well. you’re such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper into your hair and then night night

- he is a serious dom, but there is a mommy kink in there somewhere. he just wants to be held and seen, things he never felt with his real mom. so sometimes you’ll take the reigns..he’s never been harder than when you call him your good boy 😩 and when you hold him?? stroke his hair, he is sat. the “maternal figure” tactic didn’t work on him when Lady Raven tried it, but it would work for you

- loves to hit it from behind. he likes being able to grip your waist so hard it bruises, wrap his hand around your neck to steady himself, grab a fistful of your hair to make you look back at him.

[merrybloomwrites]

HS4 at Midnight?

Summary: Harry's performance with Stevie Nicks has his fans wondering if HS4 will be announced soon. Little do they know that you and Harry have other exciting news to share.

Word Count: 770

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Harry steps out wearing his suit, you get hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s been nearly a year since he’s last been on stage, and what a year it’s been. So much has happened in your lives, and miraculously, Harry’s fans still haven’t figured it out. 

They’ll know soon, though. But the secret is safe for a little bit longer.

“Can you help with the pin?” He asks, and you quickly straighten the bird he’s wearing in honor of Christine. 

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Excited. And nervous. I always love singing with Stevie. But it’s been so long, and I just know my fans are gonna go crazy. It’s been so calm lately,” he answers.

“I know, I love our little bubble too. But I really think it’s the time to pop it, don’t you agree?”

“You’re right, as always,” he says and presses a kiss to your lips. 

After another few minutes you leave Harry’s side so he can head backstage. You join Gemma and the rest of Harry’s friends who are there to watch. 

When he comes onstage you stick close to his sister. You’ve become so close, especially lately, and you’re truly both a bit emotional watching Harry sing with one of his idols. Neither of you do a great job holding in the tears of overwhelming pride seeing him up on that stage.

After the show is over you and Harry head back home, choosing to ignore social media for the moment. But you can’t help checking the next day, and one thing in particular catches your eye.

“They’ve all got a theory,” you say to him, providing no context.

“Who?”

“Your fans. They seem to have noticed a pattern.”

“Ah, and what would that be?”

“That you always do a performance like this and then announce a new album right after. So far I’ve seen about twenty people saying ‘HS4 at midnight?’”

Harry laughs and replies, “Oh they have no idea what’s about to go down.”

You’re about to respond when a sound distracts you, pulling you away from the conversation. 

A few more days pass and you walk into the living room to see Harry on his phone, giggling and typing.

“What are you doing?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just turns his phone to you so you can see what he’s up to. He’s on instagram, making a story to post to his main account. It’s just a black screen with the eyes emoji and the word “tomorrow”.

“Oh you are so mean,” you say, laughing right along with him. 

“It’s fun to tease them, just a little bit. And see all their theories. I wonder if anyone will guess right.”

“A couple might. I mean, most will guess new album but there will definitely be some who think differently.”

“We’ll know soon,” he says as he officially posts his story. The views come a second later, and within minutes people are posting all over the internet, excited to finally hear from Harry after a year away.

The two of you spend time that evening crafting the announcement post, choosing just the right pictures and caption. You hope that people won’t be disappointed, but try not to think about the potential negative responses. Rather, you and Harry focus on the excitement you know will come.

The next morning, after a quiet family breakfast, Harry looks over the post one last time before sharing it with the world. 

Under a series of photos of your beautiful family, all posed just right to hide your newborn daughter's face, is the caption “Baby Styles. Out now. This past year has been the most exciting time in my life. Becoming a father has been a truly wonderful experience. To my wife, thank you, thank you, thank you, for this gift. I am so impressed by you, so proud of the mum that you are, and I cannot wait for us to watch this little girl grow up together.”

For the rest of the day, you and Harry keep an eye on the comments while taking care of your two month old. As expected, some people are disappointed by the lack of new music, but the response is overwhelmingly positive. Everyone is excited that Harry is officially a girl dad, and the word ‘congratulations’ is written so many times it starts to look fake. 

That evening, you settle in for your favorite concert of all time. This one happens every night, and it’s just for you and your little one. As Harry croons to your daughter, you grow impossibly more fond of this man.

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: November 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post to let them know that they’re appreciated 💜 And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | 💜 (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Friend or Fuck by @joonsmagicshop [8K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 A drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾 but why, oh why did Jungkook have to cockblock them 😂 I wanted the smut alright! The build up was so good, I was slightly frustrated with the ending 🙈 yes I’m a slut for smut okay 🙈 I’m hoping for a part two ✌🏾🙏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul 💯by @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ This is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭I also reminded me of my own teenage breakup (gosh I was stupid back then, but not because of the breakup lol 😂). Anyway, please go and read it! As with everything Ella write, this is another to add to my favorites 💜

Seokjin

Nothing this month 😞

Yoongi

⭐Workaholic 💯by @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. 

🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨

⭐Little bit of your Heart by @yoongiofmine [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader, jjk x f.reader // exes!au, fwb!au // 🥵

📝 You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

🗨️ Yes here we go a new series from Ella! ✨ Yoongi already seems so done with Jungkook and they have barely spoken 😂 looking forward to how that develops 🤭

⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides 💯by @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."

🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.

Hoseok

⭐Flight 18 💯by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul.  You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat.  Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble 💯by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] 💯by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Flowers & Sex by @7deadlysinsfics [4.5K] // pjm x f.reader // fwb, f2l au, pwp // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 You’re in need of a warm body and a good fuck. who better than your friend park jimin?

🗨️ Just really cute 🥺 Hoseok (readers ex in this) is a douche though, like why did she have to go back to him ugh 🥴 but I like how the story developed and reader realized her feelings after she took her ex back. Loved Jimin and how he gave her flowers 💐 he was so fucking cute 🥺🌸

⭐Heaven with You by @acc3ssdenied [4.7K] // pjm x f.reader // friends to ??? // 🥵

📝 All good things happen after 2 am - at least, that was what you believed. Whoever thought it was a good idea for a group of twelve young adults to play drunk truth or dare obviously agreed with you.

🗨️ Oh this was some filthy smut 🥵 And that kiss with Taehyung was downright slutty – a really good pwp 🥵

⭐Have some Respect by @chim-chimmie [4.2K] // pjm x f.reader // school/college!au, teacher!jimin // 🥵

📝 Your teacher Park Jimin has had enough of you disrespecting him, so he taught you a little lesson.

🗨️ Okay, okay, I know the teacher x student dynamic is a touchy subject, and not always well executed, but hear me out, alright. This was so freaking sinful, like my soul needs to take a shower now??? 🥵

⭐Rush by @bangtanfanfiction [4K] // pjm x f.reader // idol!jimin // 🥵🥰

📝 After not seeing your boyfriend for several weeks, his latest performance definitely made something in you snap. And at a award show of all things.

🗨️ A good pwp with smut that is 🔥

⭐How Long? by @jiminniethemarshmallow [4K] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 No summary!

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it’s still so fucking hot and filthy 🥵

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this a few years back and I’ve actually read it multiple times, it’s just so incredible 👏🏾 the smut is freaking hot, and Jimin is just 🤯 well, he’s being a sweet fluffball, but then a smexy God 🥵 like wtf! The duality is insane! One of my favorites and I’m looking forward to rereading part two ✨💜

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

Taehyung

Nothing this month 😞

Jungkook

⭐Love à Trois [series; ongoing] by @letjungcoook7 [13.1K] // jjk x f.reader x pjm // slice of life, f2l+s2l, roommates!au, college!au, love triangle // 🥵🌩️

📝 You and Jimin secretly have feelings for each other, you both realize your dream of studying at the same college and sharing an apartment, but when financial issues start to arise, you have to seek a third roommate. and guess who fate sends your way? Jungkook, the same guy who took your virginity back in high school.

🗨️ This is really good! There’s two chapters up so far and they are really good! It’s so interesting to see the love triangle unfold. Really enjoyed this 🌸 It’s just getting better and better ✨ I really loved the backstory of how both Jimin and OC realized they had feelings for each other 🥺 so good and really looking forward to the next chapter 😍

⭐Sweet Obsession by @letjungcoook7 [2.5K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship, plussize!reader // 🥵🥰

📝 When a coworker starts to show interest in you, your boyfriend becomes jealous.

🗨️ Whaaaaaaaat 🥹This was so incredibly sweet and tender! As a plus-sized curvy girl, this was such a good and lovely read 💖 Another banger from Lua💜

⭐The Wedding Planners 💯by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. 

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Fragment of the Past (1)(2)(3) [series; completed] 💯by @ctrlsht [28.1K] // jjk x f.reader // patient!jk x psychiatrist!reader // 🌩️😈👻🥵

📝 You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

🗨️ Another first for me, with the thriller vibes and damn it delivers on that! It’s really, really good 👏 Pacing is really good and how we see more and more of Jungkook’s disturbing traits is just brilliant ✨If you want my full review of it, you can find it here (it does contain spoilers though!). And I really think you shouldn’t spoil it! Just go read it if you’re into the darker stuff, because my heart was racing so damn fast! This is the best thriller yandere au I’ve read to date 💜

⭐Lost on You by @letjungcoook7 [2.1K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 You're just so obsessed with your boyfriend. you would do anything for him.

🗨️ Ehm excuse me Lua, mirror sex???? 🥵 Fucking hell that was a hot one, like I almost feel like I need to take a shower 😂 another banger from you! And the dirty talking too, aish 🥵 💖

OMG November has truly been an exceptional month! There was my 30th birthday of course, and then I received so my love for my series ‘friendcation’ that I was crying with all the beautiful words and reviews I got 😭 I am so thankful for every one of you, whether you interact with my fic recs or my own – thank you! 💜

Borahae 💜

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly). 

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater. 

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls. 

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter. 

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs. 

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her. 

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’” 

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.” 

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift is giving fans more insight into her new album “The Tortured Poets Department,” thanks to a track-by-track experience with Amazon Music.

Fans can now listen to the album — which shattered streaming records after its release on April 19 — along with commentary from Swift breaking down the meaning of each track. To listen to “The Tortured Poets Department” with Swift’s commentary, fans can simply say to Alexa, “I’m a member of ‘The Tortured Poets Department.'”

Through the experience, Swift has revealed the inspiration behind songs including “Fortnight” with Post Malone, “Clara Bow,” “Florida!!!” with Florence + the Machine, “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” and “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.”

“‘Fortnight’ is a song that exhibits a lot of the common themes that run throughout this album. One of which being fatalism — longing, pining away, lost dreams,” Swift said of the album’s opening song. “I think that it’s a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about life or death. ‘I love you, it’s ruining my life.’ These are very hyperbolic, dramatic things to say. It’s that kind of album.”

Of “Clara Bow,” named after the silent film actress, Swift said the track is “a commentary on what I’ve seen in the industry that I’ve been in over time.”

“I used to sit in record labels trying to get a record deal when I was a little kid. And they’d say, ‘you know, you remind us of’ and then they’d name an artist, and then they’d kind of say something disparaging about her, ‘but you’re this, you’re so much better in this way or that way.’ And that’s how we teach women to see themselves, as like you could be the new replacement for this woman who’s done something great before you,” she said. “I picked women who have done great things in the past and have been these architypes of greatness in the entertainment industry. Clara Bow was the first ‘it girl.’ Stevie Nicks is an icon and an incredible example for anyone who wants to write songs and make music.”

“Florida!!!” featuring Florence + the Machine is one of the rare songs on the album that doesn’t see Swift directly speaking of a former lover. Swift said the inspiration for this track actually came from “always watching ‘Dateline.'”

“People have these crimes that they commit; where do they immediately skip town and go to? They go to Florida,” the singer added. “They try to reinvent themselves, have a new identity, blend in. I think when you go through a heartbreak, there’s a part of you that thinks, ‘I want a new name. I want a new life. I don’t want anyone to know where I’ve been or know me at all.’ And so that was the jumping off point. Where would you go to reinvent yourself and blend in? Florida!”

As for “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me,” Swift revealed that she wrote the tune “alone, sitting at the piano in one of those moments when I felt bitter about just all the things we do to our artists as a society and as a culture.”

“There’s a lot about this particular concept on ‘The Tortured Poets Department,'” she added. “What do we do to our writers, and our artists, and our creatives? We put them through hell. We watch what they create, then we judge it. We love to watch artists in pain, often to the point where I think sometimes as a society we provoke that pain and we just watch what happens.”

Lastly, Swift broke down the metaphor within “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.”

The song is about “being somebody’s favorite toy until they break you and then don’t want to play with you anymore,” she said. “Which is how a lot of us are in relationships where we are so valued by a person in the beginning, and then all of the sudden, they break us or they devalue us in their mind. We’re still clinging on to ‘No no, no. You should’ve seen them the first time they saw me. They’ll come back to that. They’ll get back to that.’”

[parkerslatte]

Songbird

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: sexual assault, drugs, alcohol, sexual content.

Summary: Up and coming singer, Y/N L/N is mostly known across the Sunset Strip for her deep and sultry voice. Despite this, she isn't signed to any label. It was her one dream to perform for people all over the world. Stuck working at a record store and living with two girls who don't even know her name, Y/N continues to perform gigs in McNasties, hoping to catch the attention of a producer.

While performing at McNasties, Y/N meets up and coming band, The Dunne Brothers. Just from listening to a few of their songs alone, Y/N knew they would be big in the future. How big she definitely underestimated.

Moving in with the band only a week after meeting them, she binds with them all and they all become fast friends - all bonding over the experience of trying to become successful.

Y/N was there for the tours, the performances and the arguments and now she's telling her part in the story.

Started: 3rd April 2023

Finished: 15th May 2023

Total Word Count: 60,747

Masterlist

Taglist

•••

Contents:

Track One; Oh No!

Track Two; Here We Go Again

Track Three; Exactly What I Want

Track Four; Dance Past Midnight

Track Five; Days Go By

Track Six; Sleeping With a Friend

Track Seven; Killer Queen

Track Eight; This is Trouble

Track Nine; Baby Said

Track Ten; Bubblegum Bitch

Track Eleven; Don’t Act Like You Don’t Know

Track Twelve; Maneater

Track Thirteen; Kill You With A Wink Of Her Eye

Track Fourteen; Ballroom Blitz

Track Fifteen; Sip the Gossip

Track Sixteen; I Want Some More

Track Seventeen; Out of my Depth

Track Eighteen; I Don’t Know Where I Belong

Track Nineteen; Nobody Loves a Gloomy Face

Track Twenty; Summertime Sadness

Track Twenty-One; Running Away From This Conversation

Track Twenty-Two; The Things You Love You Lose

Track Twenty-Three; Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Track Twenty-Four; Look At Us Now

•••

SOUNDTRACK

I. fleetwood mac; SONGBIRD

II. marina; OH NO!

III. nelly furtado; MANEATER

IV. neon trees; ANIMALS

V. stevie nicks; EDGE OF SEVENTEEN

VI. toby sebastian, florence pugh; MIDNIGHT

VII. queen; KILLER QUEEN

VIII. sweet; BALLROOM BLITZ

IX. arctic monkeys; I WANNA BE YOURS

X. neon trees; SLEEPING WITH A FRIEND

XI. the orion experience; THE QUEEN OF WHITE LIES

XII. marina; BUBBLEGUM BITCH

XIII. the lumineers; HO HEY

XIV. måneskin; BABY SAID

XV. lana del rey; SUMMERTIME SADNESS

XVI. måneskin, tom morello; GOSSIP

XVII. florence + the machine; YOU'VE GOT THE LOVE

XVIII. daisy jones and the six; LOOK AT US NOW (HONEYCOMB)

•••

Authors note:

- This is an x reader version I am publishing. The original name of the character is Felicity Fletcher (so if the name is accidentally left in there that is the reason why)

- This fic will mainly follow the show with some things taken from the book.

- Finally I hope you will all enjoy this story. If anyone would like anymore information feel free to send an ask or message me :)

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 6

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: It seems like whenever you and Eddie are happily content in your relationship, everyone else is miserable. What happens when your job and his fame is on the line once the secret’s out?

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: I want to thank you guys again for the immense amount of support! I swear I never expected this series to blow up the way it did but I am so fucking grateful. No words can describe it ❤️❤️ This chapter’s a little angsty, little fluffy. It was supposed to be a really long chapter but I’ve decided to split it into the next chapter but it’ll still be about two chapters left. I’m sorry I took soooo long it’s been one hell of a week but I do hope you all enjoy!! SMUT NEXT CHAPTER GONNA GO BRAZY

>>>>Series Masterlist Part 6 of 8

Word Count: 8.5k+

Warnings: angsty, fluffy fluff 😊❤️, soft!eddie, boyfriend!eddie, needy!eddie, yandere!eddie makes a small appearance, fighting/little violence, little crying, reader paints eddie’s nails, small dirty talk from the metalhead, kissing, handholding, secret relationship, reader has an enemy, marijuana ingestion, Stevie Nicks appearance, special gift from reader to Eddie 💕

“Hold still. You’re gonna mess it up.” You giggle.

Eddie’s sat between your legs, slumped with his head on your chest. The way he insisted you to paint his nails because “it’ll be like painting your own nails”. Although, you knew the real reason was an excuse to rest his head on the pillowy mounds.

You didn’t mind, though. You found him so adorable, staring up at you with those big round eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He’s much more manageable when he’s in this state of bliss.

“You’re taking so long,” He groans.

“I’m almost done, ya big baby.” You say, kissing his forehead. He smiles, rubbing your thigh with his free hand.

You blow on the last finger you’ve painted, him studying the way your full lips pursed. The cool air sending shivers down his spine. Part of him wishes you hadn’t felt it but the other part of him wants you to know the effect you had on him.

He’s never been so vulnerable with any woman he’s dated. It was always surface level, figuring it was just easier that way. He believes it stems from his days back in high school when not many girls cared to look in his direction. He was “The Freak” after all and associating with him was social suicide. He’d like to imagine that if things had gone differently back then with your interaction with him, you’d accept him fully as he was. Nerd and all.

“All done!” You snap him from his thoughts. He looks down at his fingernails painted a deep, dark shade of blue.

“Looks great, little vixen. Should we try them out?” He peels away from your body now facing you. Pulling you by your legs so their spread apart. He climbs in between them, hands traveling up both thighs.

“I think they’d look great riiight…” Eddie presses two fingers against your clothed core, applying pressure. “Here.”

“No, Eddie,” You sigh. “As much as, I’d love to christen this hotel room. Your manager and your stylist will be stopping by soon. If they see me in your clothes, they’ll know for sure we’re sleeping together.”

“What does it matter? It’s like you want this to be a secret or something.”

“Well…yeah.” You twiddle with your fingers, nervously.

“Really? Huh. This is bringing up some unresolved high school trauma.” Eddie says, looking into space.

“I thought this was what we both wanted? To protect our careers?”

“I don’t remember having this talk.”

“Then, let’s have it now. We have to keep us a secret. If my boss finds out, he might pull the exposé and that’ll be the end of my career. As for you, rockstar, you’re supposed to be living that bachelor lifestyle. Having a girlfriend is only going to ruin that image. Your manager wouldn’t like that.”

“Fuck him.”

“Eds…if not for me, then do it for yourself. You’re living out your wildest dreams. You used to play in shady garages and ghost town venues wishing you could prove yourself. Now you’re touring the world, performing side by side with the greats of our time. This is your moment.”

“Okay.” He says in a dry tone.

“You mad at me?” You pout, rubbing your head on his shoulder like a cat and staring up at him,

His expressionless face instantly attempts to fight off a smile, clearly amused. “You look so cute in my sweater how can I be mad. But ya know what’d make me feel really good?”

You clamped your thighs together, adjusting yourself in the oversized sweater so you looked halfway decent. “Your manager’ll show up any moment now.”

“I just want a kiss.”

“I have to leave while I still have time.”

“You’re really gonna leave me hangin’?” He smiles innocently but the sinister aura around him says otherwise.

Yet, you lean in to kiss him anyway, falling into his trap of temptation. Could such sinful lips ever carry innocence? No, they were made to cause destruction. Bring you to your end. You were losing track of reality. Kissing him disregards space and time.

“Get it together, y/n! He wants this. Pull away! You know what this lead to.” Says the angel on your shoulder.

But the louder, ‘much more fun to listen to’ demon on your shoulder says, “FUCK THAT! KISS THE BOY! KISS HIM HARDDD!”

And you did so while climbing him like a tree. He moans his approval, nails digging into your plushy thighs. You circle your hips down, feeling him growing beneath.

Then, you hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s obnoxiously loud manager…In front of Eddie’s door!!

Curse that hedonistic bitch in me.

You roll off him, eyes searching for a place to hide just as you hear a knock.

“This is your fault.” You whisper.

“My fault?!” He whisper-yells.

“Tell me where to hide.”

“The closet?”

“They’ll go through your wardrobe.”

“Underneath the bed?”

You exhaled deeply, lowering to the ground. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is college all over again.”

“You’ve gotta tell me that story sometime.” He says, intrigued.

The sounds of banging grows louder. Eddie strides for the door, looking back to make sure that you’re hidden as you roll underneath the bed.

You hear the door locks click open and Mr. Neds immediately begins ranting at Eddie. “What took you so long, kid? We’re on crunch time. The boys are nearly dressed and you haven’t even changed out of your loungewear. And that hair! It’s all over the place!Where’s the hairstylist I sent up here?”

So that was all the knocking earlier this morning while you were resting in Eddie’s arms. Neither of you wanting to get up from exhaustion of your sexual marathon and because it meant breaking the cycle of warmth you both provided one another.

“My hair’s fine. My fans dig it this way.” Eddie defends.

“There’s an art to messy hair, Francis. Your hair’s not rockstar messy, it’s just messy. I’m calling another hairstylist. Maeve, pick out something that screams ‘sex symbol’.” Mr. Neds orders, walking out the room.

“Hello, Mr Francis,” The stylist greets, excitedly. “I’ll be your stylist for this tour. When I’m done, you’ll look as good as Mick Jagger. Although…you already are quite good looking.”

You roll your eyes at this. Here we go.

“I’m a huge fan by the way. Possibly the biggest fan.”She giggles, a hint a seduction paints her words.

“I like when pretty girls like you listen to my music.” You can just hear the smugness in his voice. He’s clearly aware that you’re listening in all of this, possibly thinking he could make you jealous. Ha! Not gonna happen.

She giggles some more. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Course I do, doll.”

Doll?! That bastard!

“I’ll go pick out your clothes and maybe…you could get out of those clothes. I can help you if you’d like.”She lays it on thick.

You’re sure that Eddie’s going to push this further to get a rise out of you. You can already feel your blood begin to boil, your heart aching. Instead, you’re stunned to hear him drop the act.

“Actually, Maeve...I’ll pass. Hope you can respect that.”

“Oh, a-are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” She grumbles in defeat. “I’ll get started with the outfit choices then.”

You smile to yourself, impressed. You hadn’t realize just how devoted Eddie was to this relationship. He meant it when he said you were his and he couldn’t possibly think of hurting you in such a way and messing things up.

The door swings open again and Mr. Neds walks in along with bandmate, Mel Tomas. Mel does a spin around flashing his look for Eddie to see. “I’m not sure how she’ll top this look for you. Pretty sure I’m hot enough to be the new favorite of the band.” He flexes his arms.

Eddie gestures discreetly with his eyes, calling the attention of the bass guitarist. Mel confused at first, scratches his head only for his eyes to immediately widen when he spots you beneath. You wave and smile awkwardly.

“Anyone want towels?” Mel blurts.

“What?” Mr. Neds questions. “The hell would we need towels for?”

“You’re looking a little sweaty, big guy. No worries. I’ll get the towel cart from the hall and bring it in here.” Mel projects his voice, hinting his plan while causing Maeve and Mr. Neds to stare in utter bewilderment.

Mel returns with the cart. Eddie doing all he can to stifle his laughter, watching him roll it in for you. For you to climb into the bottom shelf. A towel is draped over the sides to keep you from being spotted. He throws a towel for everyone in the room to keep any suspicions. “Going into the hallway now.” He calls out.

It’s a good thing he didn’t go into acting.

Once you’re a far distance enough, you crawl out and brought yourself to your feet. Mel shakes his head at you. “Et tú, y/n?”

“I know what it looks like…but it’s really not what you think it is.”

“I think it looks like you two are a thing.”

“Okay, so it is what you think. Please don’t tell anyone.” You clasp your hands together, pleading.

“Your secret’s safe with me. I’m just surprised Eddie managed to win you over.”

“Ughh, you say it like I’m some trophy.” You roll your eyes.

“Didn’t mean any offense. It’s just you’re so much badass than he’ll ever be.” He laughs, nudging your shoulder.

You flip your hair dramatically, smirking. “This is why you’re the smart one.”

—————

Mantra•esque. It was this generation’s Woodstock. 4 days of the hottest artists performing and Corroded Coffin’s making its large scale debut. People took this festival very seriously. Both when it came to the musical performances and the way you dress. You don’t go dressed in a casual t-shirt with your favorite band plastered on it. No. This was meant to be treated as if going to a rave. Brightly colored, scantily clad outfits that leave little to the imagination; Glitter makeup and wild hair; Eccentric shoes and body bedazzle, it was the time to dress like the hottest alien in town. A second halloween, if you will. Only even sluttier.

You’ve heard nothing or seen anything like it but it’s eye opening to say the least. With the help of your best friend over the phone, you’d managed to pick out a butterfly-themed rave look of a pink body suit accompanied with wings, fishnet tights, combat boots, body glitter and makeup.

Eddie didn’t let you out of his sight the moment you’d made it to the festival pit. He wouldn’t risk any guy trying to sweet talk you and him not being able to do anything about it.

He takes your hand and you know you should pull your hand away since there are all these witnesses. Yet, you romanticized the idea of him shamelessly holding your hand to show you off as his.

“When do you and the boys go up?”

“We go right Hell’s Fury. They’re a new band, too. They’re not so bad. The lead guitarist could use some lessons though.”

“Can’t you give a compliment without backhanding it.” You laugh.

“It’s not a backhanded compliment. It’s criticism and feedback. You of all people should understand, little miss journalist.”

“Well, that may be true but—” You let out an audibly gasp when you reach around the backstage, spotting a the very famous Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac. “T-t-that’s Ste—Do you know who that is?!”

“Of course I—”

“Stevie Nicks!” You interrupt, shrieking.

“That was right in my ear,” Eddie says, wagging a finger in his ear. “Wanna go over to meet her?”

“N-no way. I couldn’t. They say you should never meet your heroes. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Not possible. You get a chance to be this close to her. Ya gotta go for it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just gonna walk up and say ‘hi’.” You stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie whispers.

“I will!” You say, defiantly as you continue to still in position.

He sighs. “I’ve got this, little one.”

He walks forward. You follow quickly behind him, hiding yourself like a scared kitten as you peeked over his shoulder.

Stevie Nicks spots your approach, amused when you shy away from her gaze. Eddie breaks the ice, chatting her up and introducing himself before making the final introduction for you.

“This is Y/n, she’s…my g—good friend.” He saves his near slip of the tongue. “Come on, Don’t be shy.”

He steps out of the way, revealing you to the singer. Your knees knock from your evident trembling. “M-m-my name is Y/n. B-but you already know that because h-h-he just introduced me. I’m a huge fan and I-I just wanted to say hi. So…hi!”

You say the last part a bit too loudly, causing her to jolt back but her smile never falters. Eddie smiles as well, entertained by the idea that you do actually fangirl.

It was clear to Stevie that there was something more between you. It was Stevie freaking Nicks. She sensed these things and the tension radiating between you two was as heated as the sun. “Isn’t it interesting how two people from very different worlds find each other?”

“Huh?” You both say simultaneously.

She giggles. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/n. Here,” She turns her attention to Eddie, removing the shawl around her shoulders and handing it to him. “A gift from me…to you…to her. Let her know you’ve got her and there’s no need to fight the feeling. I’ve gotta go in 5 but this was nice. Lookin’ forward to seeing you play, Francis. Good luck.”

She walks off, joining her group and leaving you soaring in your mind. You twirled around to face Eddie, jumping up and down in excitement. “You heard what she said. That’s for me.”

“She also said to stop fighting the feeling, yet you do. All the time. I’m starting to believe the old man at the diner was speaking specifically about you.“

“So I shouldn’t fight the rage I’m feeling towards you right now?” You hissed.

“What if…I give you your gift after the show?”

“Or…” You quickly retrieve the shawl, wrapping it around his neck and tugging him closer to you. “I could have it now and you’ll be rewarded for introducing me to my idol.”

You tug at the ends of the apparel a final time, forcing his lips to collide against yours. He smiles into the kiss and it makes you do the same. Once you pulled away, you snake the shawl from around him and brought it to your shoulders.

“What can I say? I had to stand up for my girl,” You blush at his words only to immediately sneer as the next sentence leave his lips. “You were such a goddamn scaredy cat.”

“It’s Fleetwood Mac.” You say, matter-of-factly.

“I mean, Stevie Nick’s great and all…but she’s no Metallica or Ozzy.”

“Oh, Quit the ‘cool dude’ act. I saw you blushing when she said she’d be watching you on stage. Also, I may have done some digging in your hidden cassettes collection. I know for sure you were internally screaming in her presence. Nothing to be ashamed of, though. Just means you’ve got great taste.”

He scrunches up his nose in adorably feigned anger. “You’re too nosy for your own good.”

“It’s only ever for my own good.”

——————

“You go on in 15, boys,” Mr. Neds announces, bum-rushing through the dressing trailer. “Pull yourselves together. Junie, ya getting this?”

“Ya know it, boss.” The photographer says, flashing the boys for another photo and blinding them.

“Hey! What happened to the photographer my boss specifically chose to accompany me?” You inquire the manager, crossing your arms.

“Oh, that guy? He didn’t make the cut. I’m looking for state of the art photos iconic enough to be plastered in every teen girl’s bedroom. Junie, here, knows what the girls want.” Mr. Neds says, pridefully. He pats his photographer on the shoulder, leaving the trailer to talk about their plans for a calendar edition.

“That’s disturbing,” You muttered before noticing the state of anxiety the boys were currently in. Each boy having their own fears.

Mel’s worries involved his outfit not being flashy enough. Judas’s worries involved his many exes being in the crowd seeking his head. Jessie’s worries involve his irrational fear of him popping a boner on stage while performing his drum solo.

Then there was Eddie, who was a mix of all their anxieties and more. What if he missed a beat, or he sings off key, or his hand cramps up during his guitar solo? He was THEE Francis the Freak. The lead man. The one who inspired the band itself. There was no room to fuck up or it meant the end for all of Corroded Coffin.

“You boys don’t look so good.” You say, concerned.

“I’ve gotta change my clothes.” Mel says, rushing over to the clothing rack.

“I’ve gotta find a helmet.” Judas says, also rummaging through wardrobe.

“I’ve gotta get duct tape.” Jessie searches through a nearby drawer.

Confused, you shook your head focusing on your boyfriend. “Eddie…you okay?”

“I don’t know about this, Y/n. Maybe we’ll just call this a night.”

“You can’t! You’ve performed in front of a crowd before. I’ve seen you up there. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re amazing.”

“You’ve seen me in decently-sized venues. But this…the whole world’s watching,” He lets out a dry laugh. “This was Corroded Coffin’s dream. The real Corroded Coffin. My buddies Gareth, Sid and Jeff were the ones meant to be by my side rocking the fuck out, headbanging, and saying ‘fuck all’ to whoever. But now it’s just me with these random dudes and I’m supposed to pretend like it’s always been this way.”

You hug around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But your friends are probably watching somewhere back in Hawkins, waiting to see you live out your moment. They wouldn’t want you to miss this opportunity because of them. Would they?”

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Exactly. Again, if this isn’t what you want then you don’t have to go out there. But if it is, then you show them who you are. You’re not just Francis. You’re Eddie Munson of Hawkins, Indiana. The Freak with insane guitar skills and crazy vocals. The mop-headed metalhead that shredded ‘Master of Puppets’ in a room full of boring Hollywood executives. You aren’t you because you’re famous. You’re who you are because that’s just who you are. No other explanation. And even if things get overwhelming and you decide you’ve had enough of this, you’ll always have me cheering you on in the sidelines because I believe in you. I always did.” You look up at him, feeling him let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You gave him a small smile.

“That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

“Knew it would,” You say, brushing your shoulder in a celebratory manner. “You go and get those boys together. You’ve got a crowd to amaze.”

He nods, a newfound confidence taking over. Striding over to his silly bandmates, he cups his hands over his mouth to project his voice. “Hey, fuckwads,” The boys quickly halt their actions, turning their attention to the leas singer. He continues. “We’ve got 10 minutes before it’s showtime and you’re all acting as if you were caught with your hands on your dicks.”

Eddie pauses, glaring at Jessie who quickly pulls his hands out of his jeans.

“This isn’t new to us. We’ve been here before. It’s bigger and scarier. No doubt. But we’re better than this. We’re better than that fucking Hell’s Fury band and they went out there despite having the world’s shittiest guitarist. No more backing out. No more excuses. Today’s the day to prove ourselves. Now are we gonna rock the fuck out or not?!”

“I was born ready, ya cunt.” Judas chortles.

“Watch your female-targeted language. There’s a lady in here, you fuckin idiot.” Jessie disapproves.

“Sorry. ‘I was born ready, ya vagina.’ Satisfied?”

“I’m ready, too.” Mel chimes in.

“Then, let’s do this shit,” Eddie says, encouragingly. “We’ve got 5 minutes until spotlight. We’re movin out.”

With that, the boys hooted and hollered before rushing out of the trailer. Eddie nearly running behind them when he notices you staying back.

“You coming?”

“I won’t be standing side stage. I’ll lay my blanket front row with all the other sleazy journalists,” You quip. “That way you won’t have to constantly look on the side of you to make sure I’m there.”

“But I’ll be able to see you, right?”

“Of course…ooh!” You were just reminded of something. Rummaging through your small butterfly-winged backpack, you pulled out a little gift. “I was gonna wait til after the performance but I think you might need it. Just for a little boost.”

He looks down at it and smiles. It was the famous green mushroom sweater that he’d complimented you for years ago.

“You’ve given me enough gifts so that’s my gift to you.”

“Thanks, little vixen,” His famous smile returns, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “This’ll be perfect. See you after the show?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be waiting for you.”

——————

You quickly went to take your place in the front, noticing the band’s manager walking briskly up and down near the stage. The photographer beside him, flashing away with his camera at the empty stage.

“Have a seat, you two,” You say, patting the clear space on your blanket. “All this pacing back and forth and flashing is giving me headache. You’re going to ruin the experience for everyone.”

“I can’t help it! My ass is on the line with these boys.” Mr. Neds voices.

“Have a little faith. Now sit down or I’ll make the crowd revolt against you.” You threatened.

“Ughh, fine.” Mr. Neds plops down.

“The camera boy, too.” You ordered.

“But…”

“Sit!”

He quickly, sits down. “It’s Junie by the way. Not camera boy.”

“Don’t care.” You shrug.

The stage lights wave around at the crowd before shutting off. The stage going dark. Everyone waits in anticipation. Silence. The sound of a guitar rift pierces the air and the clashing of cymbals ring out then you hear one that familiar guttural screamo voice as the song “Follow the Leader” begins to play.

“Take me to your leader. I will fuck him up then eat her. I’m fuckin bottom feeder. A fiending twisted creature…”

The lights flash up, revealing the band. The crowd goes berserk, screaming and immediately rising to their feet to dance.

Mr. Neds’s big smile quickly falls flat. “What the fuck is he wearing?”

Eddie had removed the ripped up tank top shirt that the stylist had given him. Instead he’s shirtless, donning your mushroom sweater.

“Whoooo!” You cheered on, jumping and clapping as the song picked up. Even Junie had eaten up the look, taking pictures of the band in every angle he could think of.

Once Mel takes over with vocals, Eddie shoots you a quick wink and you nearly fangirled yourself. Maybe someday, you’ll let him know that you were secretly a new fan of his. Once his ego deflates, of course.

Assuming that’s something that could possibly happen.

You felt your stomach grumble when you spot Junie scarfing down a brownie.

“Where’d you get that?” You ask.

“Some really nice girls over there said it’ll be just what I need. I wasn’t even aware I was hungry.”

“Let me get a bite. I’m starved.”

He hands it over to you. You bite into it and it tasted slightly off. Aside from that, it was the right texture. Soft and sweet.

“This is so good.” You moaned.

“I know right.” Junie through bites.

“Wanna bite, Mr.Neds?” You offered.

“No, my blood sugars already so high, my stress levels are through the roof, my diet’s gone to shit…”

“Boy, you need a vacation. More for me and Junie boy.” You say, popping another piece into your mouth.

———

After two encores, the band finished their first day on stage. 3 more days to go and so far it looks to be a success. Once all performances ended, it was time for the after party. A large bonfire set up.

By this point, a familiar feeling took over you. The same feeling you felt when you smoked that joint with Eddie back home. Then, you realized…you were high as fuck. Higher than a motherfucking kite. This is exactly what your mother warned you about all those years. Taking goodies from a stranger is bad. Very bad.

You and Junie were laughing away at just about anything. “I don’t know if you noticed this, Junie, but we just ate pot brownies.”

“I’ve never been high.” He laughs.

“Neither have I up until about couple weeks ago.” You huffed another fit of laughter.

“You’re both idiots,” Mr. Neds mutters. “You’ve got jobs to do. Search for those boys and take some pictures and write something inspirational. Time is money.”

“Take a chill pill.” You say, rolling your eyes. Standing to your feet, you began your search for Eddie through the crowd. The thing about these hippie festivals is that every long-haired man reminded you of him.

“Eddie?!” You say turning over a random guy. Not him. Then another. And another until you bumped into a hard chest. You quickly turned to apologize. “S-sorry. I’m looking for my boyfriend—hey! I know you! You’re that prick photographer from Billy’s bar. You set me up with that photo. I hope you know.”

“Why is it that I always happen to meet you when you’re under the influence?”

“I’m not drunk, okay. I’m just a little high. Excuse me for thinking people give away brownies for the kindness of it all. What are you doing here, anyway?“

“I travel where the story goes. I also follow celebrities in search for my next project. And I’ll have you know, I didn’t take that picture of you and Francis.”

“You expect me to believe you? You can wait til hell freezes over and I wouldn’t believe you. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you were about to walk away, he stops you in his tracks as he says, “Why? Looking to meet up with your boyfriend…Francis?”

“What are you talking about?”

“So where’s that boyfriend you’ve been looking for? If not Francis, then who’s the lucky man?” He says, dropping the innocent act.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to insinuate but Francis and I…are strictly professional.”

“Then, show me your boyfriend.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Because you have something to hide.”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business!”

“I’m her boyfriend,” You hear behind you. It was Junie the photographer, unceremoniously yet heroically stumbling over to you. “So back off buddy.”

“And you’re expecting me to believe this loser’s with you?” Cole laughs.

“Let’s go, Junie.” You grab his hand only for Cole to break the contact.

“Let’s be honest here, Y/n,” Cole invades your space. “Creative to Creative. We both know the truth.”

“Leave us alone.” You growl, trying to leave but Cole continues to block your path. A crowd soon beginning to form.

“Let us go!” Junie attempts to swing at Cole, who catches his fist in midair, punching him so hard it knocks him backward. The back of Junie’s head rears back, slamming against your mouth as you catch him before he could hit the ground. Your lips split and bleed but you ignore the sting, tending to the poor guy.

“Junie!” You call out, worried, before shooting daggers at Cole. “You asshole!”

“Hey, man. That’s not cool.” Says a voice from the crowd.

“None of this concerns you! Any of you. This is business! The whore’s not gonna get away with it.”

“Say that again.” A familiar voice says, the crowd parts a path for a very heated Eddie.

Cole smiles, wickedly. “Finally! This is what the fuck I’ve been waiting for. A goddamn hell of a story.”

Eddie sees you on your knees, cradling the wounded photographer. He sees red when he spots your busted lip, stomping forward towards his target.

“Eddie! Wait!” You forgotten to use his stage name around the crowd, more concerned with stopping him from doing anything that would get him in serious trouble. He looks back at you, still pissed as ever. You warm up your expression. “Don’t do it. Let’s just get out of here.”

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Cole convinced that he wouldn’t dare listen to you as a hotheaded rockstar. But Eddie does, glaring at the sorry excuse of a man one last time before helping you up as well as Junie.

“I’m sorry,” He says, regretfully. “I should’ve looked for you. It was just so many people that I couldn’t get to you.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled. Patting Junie on the shoulder, Eddie led the way to leave. The crowd cheers and it causes the testosterone in the instigating enemy to rise.

“Have fun with another one of your whores, Francis.” Cole calls out.

Eddie stops in his tracks and you knew all hell will break loose. “No, Eddie. Don’t!”

He turns on his heels, rushing over to the heckling fool. Cole believes he’ll get a one up on Eddie, swinging his fist to connect with his face. Eddie reverses this action using Cole’s own hand to punch him square in the face.

The crowd cheers and laughs as a disoriented Cole falls back into the dirt.

Walking back over to you, Eddie rolls his shoulders to release any tension. “You’re my witness. He punched himself.”

———-

The night started out celebratory. The group popping champagne in Eddie’s hotel room. It was supposed to be a night out in town to end the night right but the boys had another 3 days to perform so they would soon be heading to bed.

“You were incredible, Junie. Super brave. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” You say, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, that was pretty badass.” Eddie compliments.

“Aww, it’s no big. Always wanted to get in a fight with a guy that looked like my high school bully.” Junie comments.

“So that’s why I got my ass kicked at my party. You two were an item the entire time,” Jessie says. “You gonna kick every guy’s ass that even remotely stands near her?”

“Oh, hell yeah. 100%.” Eddie affirms.

“What did I tell you?” You say, tugging on his ear. “I can handle myself.”

“Ow, ow, ow. My ears are still freshly pierced.” Eddie hisses.

The group laughs and the festivities continue up until there’s a hard knock on the door that halts it altogether. Eddie answers the door and the look on his manager’s face indicated that this was no joyous news.

“Awww, what is it now? You’re harshing our mellow, man.” Eddie groans.

“Yeah, what’s got your knickers in a twist?” Judas questions.

“The executive editor of Hey Hello Magazine is thinking of pressing charges.” Mr. Neds says, solemnly.

“Why would the editor…oh my god?” It just hit you that Cole was not only a photographer but a writer of that magazine.

“What is going on with you, Eddie? I used to beg you to take on the bad boy persona in interview now all of a sudden your exactly that,” Mr. Neds sighs. “You’ve fought your bandmate and now you’re getting into fights with influential writers? What is it? What’s making you act out of control?”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, back at you. You shake your head, fearing he’s give it up.

He looks back at his manager. “It’s nothing…. The dickhead started it first. I didn’t punch him. He punched himself and he’s too embarrassed to admit it.”

“No more of these shenanigans, Eddie. You’re actions have consequences. To lessen your erratic behavior, I’ve come up with a solution you won’t like but it’s for your own good. I’ll be assigning you all bodyguards.”

“Nooo.” “What the fuck?” “Are kidding me?” The boys protest all at once.

“Yes. Because even if you didn’t start the fight, people will look for a fight just to ruin your careers because of jealousy and greed. People are searching for big payouts and assault from a famous star is their big break. But luckily for you, the editor has agreed to drop all charges on one condition.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“He wants a meeting…with your journalist.”

“Hell no.” He growls.

“It’s not your choice. It’s the lady’s. So..whadya say say, Y/n?” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you.

“I’ll do it.” You say with no hesitation.

“Great! I’ll make the arrangements.”

Eddie glares at you. “Would you all excuse me? I’m going to escort my journalist to her room. She’s not thinking straight with all the pot she’s ingested.”

He takes your hand, leading you out his door and towards yours. “What the hell? Why’d you agree to it? It’s only what he wants.”

“Because it’ll get him to shut up. He’s riding the high of this story he thinks he’ll get from me and you.. His issues are with me and only I can end it.”

“If I knew the journalism world was this bad, I would’ve never signed up for this expose and put you through this.”

“But then we’d never be the way we are now. I don’t regret that. Do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, let me do this for you.” You cup his face, fingers laced in his curls.

He nods.

“You looked good in my sweater, by the way.” You smiled, playfully.

He smirks. “Wanna taken it off?”

“I want to. So bad and so much. But I’m sooo high.”

“That’s one of the best time to fuck.”

“Everyone’s right across the hall and I don’t think I’m sober enough to be quiet. Buuut… you can put me to bed in the non-sexual way.” You smiled, turning around and pulling off your tiny bag and the shawl for him to access your zipper.

He lowers it, slowly bringing down your bodysuit to kiss your shoulder. It all felt so sensual. The bodysuit pools around your feet. Your bare breasts make contact with the cool air, sensitive buds hardening. You were only in your black thong and fishnets.

He runs his large hands over the front of your thighs, pressing his erection against your ass. Hooking his index fingers in the sides of your tights, he brings them down your legs as well.

When you felt him try to do the same with your panties, you pull away. “You’re being naughty.”

“Why are you being such a tease?” He groans. “I thought you were mine.”

“I am yours.”

“Then, show me.”

You chuckled, crawling onto your bed on all fours. You exaggerated the arch in your back, ass in the air as you swayed side to side. Then, you roll into the shawl wrapping it around you and shielding your breasts from his eager eyes.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Eddie.”

“Hope you know that this will be the most energetic I’ll be for these few days. If you don’t take advantage now…you’ll regret it.” He singsongs the last part.

“Goodnight.” You singsong back, curling up to your pillow.

He couldn’t help but laugh, staring down at your exhausted figure. Pulling the blanket over you, He kisses your forehead. “No more taking brownies from strangers.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

He tries to remove the shawl around you but you grip it tighter in your slumber. With one last smile, he shuts off the lights and leaves you to dream peacefully.

——————-

The next day would be hell for you and Eddie. You didn’t even get the chance to see him much. His entire day was spent rehearsing for day two of tonight’s festival. Meanwhile, you’d gotten a call from Murray who was very disappointed in you for being behind on your work, so you spent your day writing with little motivation.

You’re mind had gone elsewhere. To more pressing depressing matters. Cole. Your new arch nemesis. Your rivalry. Your enemy. All the names in the book that would describe his fate in your eyes. He needed to go down and hard. But how?

Tonight, you’ll be missing Corroded Coffin’s second appearance because you were meeting up with him to discuss whatever his evil plans were for you.

All you could do is see off the boys in the afternoon as they gathered onto the giant tour bus toward destination.

“You really don’t have to do this? I can just get a lawyer. He wouldn’t stand a chance.” Eddie says.

“I need to do this or he’ll just keep coming after me. You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” He nods. “I’ll see you late tonight?”

“What about your new friends?” You whispered, gesturing to the two giant bodyguards a few feet behind him.

“I have my ways.” He smirks, mischievously.

“Whatever you plan on doing…don’t.” You teased, pulling his hat over his face.

He lifts the brim over his eyes with a finger. “This is why I don’t wear these darn things. I’ll be noting this to Maeve,” He jokes, then spreads out his arms for a hug. You go in for a handshake instead, reminding him that you were both in public.He reluctantly shakes it.

With a final goodbye from the boys, everyone boarded the bus and were off on the road.

Now that they were off doing their work, you’ll be doing yours. It was time to dive into the mind of the sleaziest journalist. If this was a dog eat dog world then you’ll gladly join the game. You were going to get some dirt on Cole and make him pay.

——————

You sat across the devil in a tea shop. He smiles a dangerous smile, believing he’s won.

“First, I wanna start off by saying that I apologize to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean to call you a whore.”

“Fuck you. I don’t care for your apologies.”

“You’re very well entitled to not forgive me. I just needed to get that off my chest. How’s your lip, by the way? It doesn’t look bad from what I see.”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Cole. I’m not here for small talk. What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you trying to sabotage my exposé?”

“Because you’ve talked down on my Magazine enough. You and your company! Then you write this article and now you’re all I see. Everywhere. ‘30 Days With A Rockstar’. I’ve had enough! But soon… the world will know the truth. ‘Francis The Freak dating his journalist?’. Your exposé will be seen as bias. And my story on you will crush yours.”

“So you started a fight and threatened to press charges…because you want to make a better story?”

“I was never going to press any actual charges. I just knew it was the only way you’d agree to meet me again. Because you care about him. Because you’re a couple.”

“We’re not!”

“I have eyes all around, Y/n. I really didn’t take that photo of you and Francis at the bar. But I did write the article. I’ll admit it. As you already know, I’m the exec and lead editor of Hey Hello and I don’t take to kindly of the slander my company’s faced at the hands of your company. So, I’ll give you three options. Either work with me and give me the rights to your story or you could tell me the full story about you and Francis or I can really press charges and everyone loses.”

“How about a fourth option? You leave me and Francis alone…and I won’t put out an article about you getting sexual favors from your female employees so they can secure their jobs. Abuse of power story? You’ll never work in this business again.”

His eyes widened. “I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Tell that to the several employees that have come forward to personally speak with me. I have eyes and ears, too, ya know.”

“You bitch!” He snarled.

“Awww, I thought we were friends.” You teased, pouting.

“You just wait. I will find the truth. And when I do, you’ll be just another slut that fell for a trashy rockstar.”

You slap him, causing him to yelp. “Go ahead and press charges on me, too. Fuck you and your shitty magazine.”

You shot up from your seat, walking out. Not once looking back. Little did he know, you’d already released the article on him. That morning, you’d found your motivation to write after all.

———

It was 3 am and the Band had yet returned. Even if you wanted to see Eddie, you knew his guards would be right outside his door, keeping you seeing him at these hours.

Right now you’re lying in bed, moping as you began to question your relationship. Maybe you’d both jumped into it too soon. Everything is moving so fast and now you had a huge target on your back which, in turn, would effect Eddie.

Little taps hit against your window, you rise your head up in confusion. You sauntered over to the window, lifting it up and glancing down. Eddie waves at you from below.

“Eddie!”

“Shhhh!” He holds out his hands, signifying you to lower your voice.

“How’d you get out here? I thought you’d be guarded up in your hotel room.”

“I snuck out. Climbed out my window and took the stairs on the side of the building. Told you I’d come see you so here I am. Now you climb out.”

“No! It’s dangerous,” You stared in horror at the rickety metal stairs. “These look all rusty and unstable.”

“But I’ve got somewhere to show you.” He says, throwing up his arms in frustration.

“Fine, but I’m going out and down on the elevator like a normal person.”

“All that work when you could just come down this way?”

“It’s not work. It’s safe.” You throw on a coat over your nightgown and then some boots, before heading out the door. The bodyguards outside Eddie’s door spot you.

“Just leaving for some fresh air.” You explained, nervously. They turned their attention away from you, speaking amongst themselves.

You rushed down to the lobby and made it out to see Eddie, turning to smile as he held out his hand. You take it and he immediately leads the way.

“You’re a bad influence.” You laugh.

“So, I’ve been told.”

It was not a far distance from the hotel where you headed off to. You found yourself at an intimate park setting that had a showing of ‘Rocky Picture Horror Show’ playing on a big projector screen. Couples sitting on their respective blankets as they watched the film.

“I love this movie.” You whispered.

“Yeah? So do I.”

He lays out the blanket for you both to sit, finding a nice spot in a corner by the bushes.

“How’d you know they’d be playing a showing so late this night?”

“Dirk told me.”

“You mean the lead guitarist from Hell’s Fury. You’re on first name bases now? Are you going to braid each other’s hairs, too?”

“Please stop talking,” He says, trying not to laugh. “He’s actually not a bad guy. Hell of a stoner, though.”

“Glad your meeting more people in your circle.”

He nods. “I guess.”

“Thank you for bringing me out here. I needed this. Especially, after my meet up with that loser.”

“How was it?”

“This guy’s been on my tail the entire time since I’ve started this article. He’s been jealous of my success. The misogynistic pig. He said either I tell him about us or join him.”

“Join him? Like Darth Vader?”

“You nerd,” You giggled. “Yeah, just like Darth Vader.”

“So what happened after that?”

“I blackmailed him. Told him I’d out his scandal about his power imbalance and perverted behavior towards his female colleagues. I’m already in the works of outing him, though. No woman should ever work with that creep.”

“Ooo, you can get dirty.”

You shrug, playing off cool. “I can be a real bitch.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Fuck you!” You shove him, saying it loud enough for a couple people to shush you.

“Sorry.” You and Eddie whisper in unison.

——

It’s now 5 am. You’re on your way back to the hotel, laughing and quoting lines from the movie. Eddie insisted you both take the metal stairs this time which you reluctantly take. Him following close behind in case you faint from looking down. When you made it to your window, you climbed in first.

“We’re a little like Romeo and Juliet. Don’t ya think?It’s kinda romantic.”

He kisses you softly after you say this, making your steady heartbeat pound furiously in your chest. He breaks the kiss, licking his lips.

“Does Romeo get to climb into Juliet’s window and rock her world?”

“I thought you wouldn’t have energy for that?”

“I’ve got enough.” He attempts to climb in but you put your hand over his face, stopping him.

“No. You need sleep, big boy. Your day begins at 7.”

“You’re really missing out on some blessings, little vixen. I’m in the mood to eat pussy.”

You shuddered. So. Very. Tempting. That mouth as infuriating as it can be when he spoke, it was just as talented at many other things including knowing it’s way around the female anatomy. “I’ll pass.” You squeaked.

“Sure bout that? I’m looking to make those legs shake. Fuck you with my fingers and tongue,” He does have a nice, thick…long tongue. “Drink you til your stupid and can barely speak.”

You clamp your thighs together. “Ughh, no!”

Mustering up the shred of restraint you had left, you shut the window and locked it, leaving him standing there dazed.

His face drops in a dull look as he sticks up his two middle fingers at you. You do the same, causing you both to burst with laughter. With a final dramatic bow, he says his goodbye and makes his exit down the stairs.

You flung yourself onto the mattress. You couldn’t believed you turned him down. He’s literally your fucking boyfriend! Take advantage! Where was the shoulder demon bitch when ya needed her?!

God, that pretty mouth. I’m such a stupid bitch.

Then, your mind recalled Chrissy’s ‘gift’ to you. With a sigh, you retrieve the item from the drawer. It wasn’t him. But it would be enough.

———

It wasn’t enough! The remaining few days of the show caused your private nights with Eddie to grow shorter and shorter. The moments when you didn’t have to sneak around were spent being as far apart from one another as possible to deter any suspicions from his manager. Eddie had gotten extremely fatigue from the long days of rehearsal and having to perform on stage hours after. You worried that the boys would soon burn out.

When he’d snuck into your bedroom after the last night of Manta•esque, he’d all but crashed face first into your mattress. He only had enough energy for you both to the night for some writing ideas. He excitedly yet tiredly spoke of receiving praise letters from some of his favorite artists who’ve seen the event televised.

“It’s insane,” He yawns. “People actually like our music. They want to hear more from us. We’re already in talks of getting signed to an official label and having a new album.”

“That’s incredible!” You say, placing his head in your lap and playing in his hair.

“Right.” He yawns, once again.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Wanna stay here.” He grumbles against your thigh.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“So what? I miss you. And who knows if I’ll ever get this much time with you again?“

“Why do you mean?”

He’s quiet.

“Eds?” You called for his attention.

“I’ll be touring again,” He admits. “It’ll be around the time the exposé’s done.”

“Okay? We’ll still get to see each other.”

“No,” He sits up. “At least not for a while. My manager’s got us a tour around Asia then back to Europe for France. I’ll only be staying in Hawkins for about a week and a half then I’m back on the road again.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”

You stand to your feet, heading for the door when he grasps your wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to go somewhere to think.”

He caresses your face. “Y/n, I want to be with you.”

“We’ll hardly ever see each other.”

“Then, I won’t do the tour.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Or you can come with me! I don’t fucking know! I just don’t want this to end. I can’t go back to life without you.”

“Neither can I. I wouldn’t feel like myself without you.”

“So does this mean you’ll leave with me? We won’t have to hide our relationship.”

“I can’t just drop everything and travel the world with you, Eddie. I have my dreams, too. I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t say that.” He begs, narrowing the gap between your lips.

“I can’t…” You say, weaker this time, eyes fluttering closed as he closes the gap between your lips. He kisses away your tears.

You’re lost in his kiss, wrapping your arms around him when a throat clears forcing you both to jolt apart. There stood Mr. Neds with the extra key card you’d given Eddie.

You were so fucked.

————-

“I come to your bedroom and your missing. Window’s open. I knew you snuck out at that point. I’ve always had this gut feeling that there was something going on between you and this fully confirms it,” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you. “I warned you the first day that this would happen. I told you that this would be serious shit and yet, unsurprisingly, you sleep with him.”

“Back off. It’s not her fault.” Eddie defends.

“Both of you are to blame! All this time these unfortunate events that keep happening and it was all because you two are secretly dating. A poorly kept secret at that. You both are all over each other. I’ve been in denial but this proves my concerns.”

“Please don’t tell my boss. He’ll pull the article and this will all be over.”

“I won’t tell him anything. I want this exposé out as badly as you. People are loving it so far. But no more secrets. At least not between us. If this is what you both want, I won’t stop you. But it could only ever be in private. This stays here. No one else will know.” Mr. Neds states.

Only he couldn’t be more wrong. This secret will soon go beyond these walls because in about the next 2 days at approximately 12:30 pm on a Tuesday, the whole world will read about the scandalous romance between a rockstar and his journalist.

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[disasterbijamietartt]

Maybe I’m delusional and drank too much wine, but this is why Roy Kent being a closeted queer man explains EVERYTHING

While writing my meta piece about Jamie x Keeley I spent a lot of time thinking “What about Roy?”, since there are no convincing love interests for him aside from Keeley.

And, well, Jamie.

And for the first time I evaluated this as something that really could happen, since now there is the legit possibility that they make homophobia in professional football the prevalent theme in this season and having multiple queer storylines would help to illustrate different point of views and they could explore this with a Roy x Jamie romance plot.

And then I looked at Roy and … basically everything fell into place.

Why he represses his emotions, why he is so so angry, why he is so full with insecurities and struggles with his self-worth, why he is unable to show (physical or emotional) affection to a man without somehow having to taint it with an unnecessarily violent outbreak – the only notable exception being the Hug™️ in “Man City”. Something that hasn’t been addressed by anyone since then, which was a choice I always considered very odd, but postponing Roy’s character development to season 3 makes actually lot’s of sense, if Roy’s struggles are rooted in internalised homophobia. And if being queer in professional sports is the theme of season 3 like mental health was the theme of season 2.

Still makes his angry, violent outbursts really jarring and he has to show accountability, but if the pain he inflicted on others is related to the trauma of being forced to be in the closet for 25 odd years, that would be so heartbreaking. And it would fit into the theme of the show that actually good people like Rebecca or Jamie – and Nate once he gets his redemption – do unforgivable things and inflict pain on people who do not deserve it as a trauma response. Sure, it could be some other trauma – but this explanation would fit so well into this seasons theme, it just makes SO MUCH SENSE to me.

Also, Trent’s critique explains some of Roy’s insecurities, but he already was full of anger at seventeen, so the root of his anger has to be something different – and growing up queer in a hella homophobic surrounding since age ten and forced to stay in the closet unless he wants to throw away his dream career, if that is not a reason to be filled to the brim with anger, I don’t know what is.

And as far as I recall, the only people he actually physically attacks are Colin (the headbutt in 1x3) and Jamie. Then his beef with Trent.

In other words, we only ever see him being irrationally aggressive and violent towards queer coded or canonically queer men. Yes, he usually has reasons that are not related to (coded) sexuality – with the notable exception of “I have to headbutt Jamie before I hug him lest it seems gay!”

And the “ugly, ugly boy”-thing? Vanity is often used for queer coding. So Roy mocks something about Jamie that is queer coded.

This screams internalised homophobia.

But I hear the naysayer going “Aren’t you reaching a bit?”

Maybe, but let us take a look at some ways how Roy is queer coded that come to mind off the top of my head.

First of all: He canonically has a secret double life, where he is notably softer, hangs out with a bunch of elderly women who have no clue who Roy Kent, professional angry footballer, is, and does yoga with them, frequents gay bars, hangs out with drag queens and watches reality tv while sipping rosé, which is a sweet girly drink, like you know “vanilla vodka. such a child.” – in his “real life” Roy would never ever drink rosé or admit to anyone that he watched even a single second of “Lust Conquers All” by accident (Keeley definitely didn’t know, or she would have teased him with this).

Who else has a secret double life? Colin.

And while I hate to be “look, so many gay stereotypes!” … Look, so many gay stereotypes!

Also, both Julie Andrews and Madonna are gay icons? As are Stevie Nicks and Tina Turner

“The Sound of Music” (his favourite) is popular in gay culture and the nuns are implied to be lesbians?

He mouths along when Rebecca sings “Let it go”, with Elsa being queer coded and the song being a queer anthem?

And when I googled “A Wrinkle in Time queer” first thing I got was a paper by the Syracuse University titled “Unusual Children: Queerishness and Strange Growth in A Wrinkle in Time and The Giver”, which discusses the queerness of the main character. You know, the “Am I supposed to be the little girl”-girl?

This are all the pop culture references I could recall off the top of my head, there may be things that are not queer coded, but … one or two, that is a coincidence. Three or more, that is a pattern. You cannot convince me that the writer’s “accidentally” queer coded Roy so extensively if he is supposed to be straight.

(Dear god, the only thing about Ted Lasso that always disappointed me was the lack of explicit queer characters – like, I’d bet with you that the majority of non-queer viewers didn’t get Keeley’s “dip the toe back in the lady pool” line or Colin’s “oh like Grindr?” – and if they now go and make the third season queer as fuck? Bless them!

And just like the next level trolling by Phil and Brett if they were actually spoiling the big love story for years, while everyone thought they were just joking?)

EDIT: Just looked up Gina Gershon, who Roy said he dated once—guess what, according to Wikipedia she’s considered a gay icon 🙃

[sintowinemily]

17 Minutes - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x unnamed female!oc (can be reader if you so wish)

summary: Every Monday morning, Spencer is exactly seventeen minutes late to work. The team have no idea what is holding up the young genius.

warnings: third person, pining, one-sided pining, unknowing party, obsessive Spencer, (kind of) stalking (??), unhappy ending.

word count: 1145

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Spencer Reid is late to work every Monday, and has been for months. If he wasn’t so integral to the team, SSA Aaron Hotchner would have him disciplined by now, but knowing what he knows at twenty-four, there is no way Hotch would risk him being on disciplinary leave. 

Hotch doesn’t know why Spencer is late on the same day every week, neither does Derek or Elle, not even Jason Gideon knows why Spencer fumbles his way into the round-table room 17 minutes late every Monday clutching at a take-away cup of coffee, red in the face and satchel hanging around his elbow. Spencer would never tell them what could be so important. Gideon worries it’s his mother, Derek teases him that some girl is keeping him up late on a Sunday night – so unprofessional. 

What they don’t know is that it is a girl. But she isn’t keeping him up late on a Sunday night, she isn’t begging him not to leave their bed on a Monday morning. Although Spencer wishes, so desperately, more than anything that she did. 

Every Monday, on his way to the Metro stop, Spencer stops at his favourite coffee shop. It’s a quaint independent little place, with long leather couches and oak bookshelves mounted on the walls. It’s dark and the walls are painted olive green, it has old espresso machines that whine loudly and exposed lightbulbs hanging low from the ceiling. Spencer goes in every morning and orders a flat white and empties half of their glass sugar dispenser into it. But every Monday, he orders a large latte and takes a seat on one of the large couches, and watches. All he does is watch.

She has long dark hair, which falls down her lower back. Spencer observes that she has to pull it to the side to stop her from sitting on it. Her short nose, which curves up at the end scrunches whenever she turns a page of her book. She’s there every Monday, and every week she has a new book perched on her right knee, which is crossed over her left one. Every week she is wearing some variation of the same outfit, a long skirt and a knitted jumper which is too long in the sleeves. Her hair is occasionally tied back in a black ribbon, but Spencer prefers it when she lets it hang loose, free. 

The first week she approached the old 1970s vintage jukebox, which looks like it is an original but is loaded up with modern records as well. She chose Bella Donna by Stevie Nicks. This is what sparked Spencer’s interest, he would have expected someone of her [their] age to have chosen something more modern but as he watched her go to sit down and properly observed her floor-length dress (which surely had to be altered as she didn’t look over five foot four inches), he realised she was different. He continued watching as he stood at the counter and waited for his coffee, to-go. What he observed next made his heart skip a beat.

She pulled out a battered copy of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.

Instead of leaving with his take-away cup, he sat at the couch on the opposite side of the room and watched her. He was 17 minutes late to work.

And so began the unprofessional habit he entered into, every Monday he was 17 minutes late to work because he was watching the beautiful girl read some piece of classical literature. Sometimes English, sometimes American, sometimes Russian, sometimes German. One week it was All Quiet on the Western Front. Another week it was Philip Roth’s alternative history. The next it was Kafka’s The Trial. Then for three consecutive weeks after that it was a different Ray Bradbury book every Monday. And so on, and so forth. (Of course, Spencer had already read all of these.)

Spencer wasn’t sure if she read one a week, or one a day. But he became as obsessed with finding out what the stranger was reading as to what she was wearing, or whether she had ordered an americano or an oolong tea. He would watch as she held the book in her right hand, her left hand balled into a fist, nestled into her hair, which she rested her head on as she read. She licked her lips every four minutes and twenty-seven seconds; she would crane her neck from side to side every six minutes and twelve seconds. Spencer had become so enamoured with this girl, this girl who was devouring all his favourite novels. He knew on the seventh week of watching her that he might well be in love with her, despite not even knowing her name. 

If Spencer was a different man, he would have approached her, he would have asked her thoughts on the tension between Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, he would have asked her if she had read any of his favourite obscure Russian novels. But he wasn’t that man, he was too reserved, too nervous.

On the eleventh week Spencer walked into the coffee shop with his head held high. This would be the day he would be the man he wanted to be. He would at least introduce himself to her. 

It was a shock to him when she wasn’t sat at her usual spot, but instead was the only person in the queue in front of him, waiting to be served. (She ordered an oolong tea.) She stood to the side and gave him a small, nervous smile as he made his way to the counter to place his own order. He was too in his own head to even return the smile. He ordered his latte and stood behind her again to wait for his order. She was staring into space in front of them, tapping her foot on the ground. A to-go cup was placed on the counter to collect, and she stepped forward to collect it, Spencer is watching her in a fashion which he knows is creepy but as she is facing away from him, he knows she won’t notice. 

But as you can imagine, to Spencer’s surprise she spins around quickly and looks direct at him.

‘Sorry, I think this is yours.’ She says, the to-go cup in her outstretched hand, her left hand.

That’s when Spencer realises, he had never studied her left hand before. If he had he would have noticed the ring. The large diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. He gives her his thanks and hurries out of the coffee shop and makes his way straight to the metro stop. He should have known that the girl destined to be his soulmate, destined to be the love of his life, would already be taken. 

And, Spencer Reid was never late to work again. 

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

The festivities of Christmas were often overlooked by Bucky in his job in favour of rushing off to save a life, but not this year — this year, you were there to bring joy to him, and to all of his team.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☤ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☤ 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☤ Tooth rotting fluff, work husband antics, teasing

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☤ I can't say which dynamic I love writing more — Stevie and Buck, or Peanut and Bucky.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☤ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Bucky stood in the entryway of the apartment, small figurine in hand. “What’s this?” He turned it over in his grip, inspecting the details of the snowman’s little arms and scarf. “It’s cute, but what is it?” 

“It’s another little guardian,” you said quietly, looking from the little bobble statue in his hand, up to his face. “I thought it could sit on the dash, you don’t have to–”

“Peanut, this little dude is fuckin’ adorable. He’s staying in the truck.” The small snowman wobbled as he shook it, boyish curiosity lighting up his face. “I wanna see if Stevie can send him flyin’,” he laughed, grinning widely down at it. “You know how he is.”

You beamed at Bucky and moved forward to hug him. “I’m glad, now go—go bring festive cheer to those who need it.” 

Bucky kissed you full on the lips before he stepped back towards the door. “I’ll try. Be safe, okay?”

“It’s cookies—I won’t burn the place down,” you teased, and Bucky arched a brow. “I won’t! Now go!”

“If you say so,” he murmured, and he placed the figurine in his bag. “I’ll message you when I get there.”

“Okay, be safe, my hero,” you called, blowing him kisses as you shooed him out the door. The chilled breeze nipped at your nose while you watched him walk away, then you listened for the sound of his car rumbling to life. 

The holiday season has always been nerve wracking as the best friend, now partner, of an EMT, that was a given — drunken mishaps, snowy accidents, combined with the fiery, festive attitude that many people exhumed, and it was no surprise that Bucky, a high-ranking member of the paramedicine force, was run off his feet. 

There were days that he would come home absolutely exhausted, down to the very last fibre of his being, and then there were days that you couldn’t console him in his grief — the loss of a patient far too painful for him to bear. 

On occasion, there were happy days, too. They were relatively simple acts — Bucky making a patient laugh with his absolutely horrible jokes, or if he got to a patient and managed to help them, save them just in the nick of time. 

It was true, Bucky was a real hero, and he needed all the guardians he could get. 

“Alright,” you mumbled, padding slowly into the kitchen, a thoughtful crease in your brow. The ingredients for sugar cookies lined the counter, with the bonus edition of chocolate chips and peanut butter. “Knowing Stevie, he will devour the damn peanut butter ones like no one’s business,” you said louder while you stared at the ingredients. 

The game plan to make the hampers was more stressful than you’d admit.

Finally, you exclaimed, “Sugar cookies, choc chip, and then peanut butter it is—or whatever they’re called.” With the decision made, you set to work on dividing up flour, eggs, and all else of what you needed. 

A few moments passed by with little incident from the flour when your phone chimed. It was Bucky’s ringtone. You rushed to brush your hands of the loose clouds of powder, and you picked up the phone to look at the screen. 

There was a text with an attachment. Excited, you swiped at the screen to open the picture, only you found it was a video.

The thumbnail was Bucky’s face, a broad smirk on his lips. 

You pressed play and watched as he opened his mouth and said, “Stevie here has some words for you, Peanut, baby.” 

The camera flipped to show the blond himself, a pout on his lips. “Where is my little guardian, Peanut?” Steve asked, pointing at the camera. “Stop playing favourites—Bucky is my husband before your boyfriend, so I am in on this relationship.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Just you wait, Cap,” you said.

Through the speaker, you heard Bucky laugh and you watched him shove Steve in the shoulder hard enough that he stumbled out of frame. “Shut it, punk,” Bucky said. “Anyway, this lil’ dude is gonna sit on the dash, baby. And Stevie’s driving first.” 

“Oh no,” you laughed, and you sat down on one of the kitchen chairs as the video ended. 

There was a picture sent next, and you pressed it, smiling happily when you saw the snowman figurine sitting proudly on the dash, right next to the small stuffie you had given Bucky previously. 

Just as you started to type a reply, another message came through with another attachment, this time with the text: HELP ME!

You opened the new attachment, and like the other video, it opened on Bucky’s face — only this time, he looked remarkably more frightened. “Hey, ba- Rogers! Chill out!” There was an engine rev and a laugh in the background before Bucky looked back at the camera. “I have him set up on the dash now, and let’s see how long he lasts.”

The camera flipped forward, and you watched while the snowman wobbled and tipped with the movement of the ambulance. “He’s holdin’ up well so far– Oh, I spoke too fuckin’ soon.” Steve’s laughter boomed over the speaker as the snowman slid over the dash, comedically slow, as they took a corner. 

“I need a guardian just to save me from this punk’s driving,” Bucky lamented, and you grinned as he turned the camera back to him. His eyes were wide in exaggerated shock. “Please, I need more, sweetheart—I won’t last.” 

“On it,” you said to the screen, and you grabbed a pen and a pad of paper before scribbling it down — buy more guardians to save my hero — at the top of your to-do list. 

Just as Bucky opened his mouth to speak again, you heard the telltale beep of their radio go off, then the voice of a dispatcher. Bucky made a noise of affirmation as he listened, and you watched his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened; unable to discern anything from the tinny sound, you couldn’t tell whether it was an ordinary call, or a serious call. 

“Okay, baby girl, I gotta go,” Bucky said quickly, and he looked directly into the camera; directly at you. “I’ll message you later.” He blew a kiss to the camera and smiled. “I love you!” The video ended and minimised on its own. 

“Be safe, babe,” you whispered. Glancing up at the ingredients, you made a hasty decision. You picked up the pen you used to write the previous note, and just under it, you wrote an amendment: buy all my heroes their own guardian, and Bucky an extra one. “They all need it.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[harrywavycurly]

Hello 🥰 I have been going through a couple of your series and I just love them so much! I really love the latest update to Bucket of Sunshine ☀️ I was curious about the conversation she had with Eddie when he came to the party for her—either at the party or the Benny’s date (because yes that is totally a date). Thanks so much in advance!! 🖤💗🧁

Hiii babes!! Awe I’m so glad you enjoyed the newest update!! I’ll gladly give you a conversation t for both, one for when Eddie got to the party and one while at Benny’s and I think this fits in perfectly for Fluffy Friday! So enjoy💖

-find all things Bucket of Sunshine here✨

*Eddie didn’t realize what all he was signing up for when he agreed to hang out with you and take you to Benny’s*

“What…are you wearing?” “Eddie remember it’s rude to start a conversation with a question.” “I’m here to recuse you from a house party and you’re giving me a lesson on manners?…really?” “That’s three questions in a row…wanna toss in one more to make it an even four?” “What are you doing?…with…that?” “That’s technically two but I’ll let it slide…now to answer you I’m wearing a sundress and I’m holding your hand…anything else you want to know?” “Uhm why…why are you holding my hand…like that?” “Oh sorry is interlocking the fingers too much? You said you don’t like walking into parties alone so…I figured this was how you wanted to walk in?” “I was just uhm…uh joking…about that.” “Oh okay…well then after you.” “You don’t…have to…let it go…it’s fine..uh it’ll actually make it easier to keep my eye on you if you’re uhm…attached to me…” “worried I’m going to run off huh?” “Not run…more like dance away from me.” “I do like to dance…now come on I’ll introduce you to Henry and Nick.” “Uh how about let’s skip that and go find the real party on the back porch?” “The real party?…” “oh…you’re cute when you’re clueless…come on you’ll be fine.” “Okay…oh look there’s Steve…where are you going?” “I’ll be right back…I have to talk to your brother really quick just…stay here.” “Okay..what’s wrong?” “Uhm…I need…my hand back…” “oh sorry…”

“You uh…have whipped cream on…your lip.” “Oh thank you..that always happens I think it’s because I drink it so fast but I just can’t help it they make the best milkshakes…Eddie why are you looking at me like that? Is there more?” “What? Oh…sorry what did you say?” “Are you okay? Do you need-” “I don’t need to eat if that’s what you’re about to ask me…” “it’s rude to just watch someone eat…” “I’m not watching someone…I’m watching you…there’s a difference.” “Whatever you say…you’re really not hungry?” “I promise I’m fine okay? Now…uhm..how was your day?” “It was good! Stevie took me to the library to return some books I got on how to start a garden…I’m trying to grow sunflowers and they are being a bit tricky.” “Did you just call Steve…Stevie?” “Yes? That’s what I’ve always called him.” “Oh god that’s fucking great! What does he call you?” “Most of the time he calls me sister…or sis.” “Sister? Really?” “Yes like when he comes home he shouts ohhh sister! I’m here! He’s very dramatic.” “Is he uhm..is he nice to you?” “Nice to me? Oh he’s the best…he does get kinda irritated with me at times but yes he’s nice to me…why?” “Just wondering…” “how was your day?” “Why are you so nice to everyone?” “Excuse me?” “Why are you so…nice to people you don’t know or legit assholes who don’t deserve a single second of your time…why are you nice to them?” “I just…I don’t know? I guess because if I’m nice to them they’ll be nice to me and…I just enjoy making people smile.” “I wasn’t nice to you.” “You weren’t mean to me.” “Yes I was…” “no…Eddie you think you’re mean but you’re really not…anyone who takes the time can see it’s just an act you put on…I know you’re not really an asshole.” “Yeah well i sure as shit tried to be and uhm…I shouldn’t have been…so rude.” “It’s okay.” “Are you cold?” “A little…sundresses are all cute and fun until the sun goes down…” “here…” “i need to get a jacket like this it’s so comfy and warm.” “You like it?” “Yeah it’s nice…you sure you don’t want any of my fries?” “Stop trying to feed me.” “Sorry…it’s a habit…”

[ladykailitha]

The Places We Hide Part 4

This is the real part four I swear. Also I finished the story and will be putting up one part a day until it’s done. There are 7 parts, but I’m not sure if I’m going to expand six and seven or combine them.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

*

“Buckley!” Eddie called out cheerfully. “How goes the videos?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, you guys aren’t subtle.”

Eddie blinked. “I don’t know what you mean, honey.”

Robin raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. “Straight for the pet names. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Eddie sauntered over and leaned on the counter, head propped in his fists. “I really, really don’t. So why don’t you tell me about it.”

She growled her frustration. “Steve has a panic attack. Disappears for five minutes and then twenty minutes later, you show up. I’m not stupid.”

Eddie smiled up at her. “Never thought you were. Does he include you most of the time he has attacks?”

Robin frowned. “I mean I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “And how often does he call me, instead of going to you?”

Her brow furrowed even farther. “Maybe once or twice a month?”

He stood up and tucked his thumbs into the sides of his jeans. “So what’s the problem?”

Her shoulders sagged. “Nothing, I guess. I just wish I could be there for him all the time.”

Eddie hopped up on the counter and slid until his legs were dangling next to register. “People need different people for different things. And there are some problems that he can’t go to you for.”

“But why not?” Robin pouted.

“Aren’t there things you can’t go to Steve for?” Eddie asked, honestly.

She ran her finger through a nick on the counter surface. “Yes.” Because of course there were.

“So where is he?” Eddie asked.

She jutted her thumb behind her. “Horror section.”

“Thanks!” He hopped down and practically skipped to the horror section.

Steve was shelving on auto-pilot. It was one of the reasons he kept the job because he could stock shelves or ring people up without having to be 100% present. But this time was bad. Eddie could see it in the Steve’s shoulders were up around his ears and how badly his left knee shook.

Eddie gently took the tapes from Steve and set them on the shelf sideways. Then he wrapped Steve in the biggest hug and just held him until he could feel Steve relax against him.

Then suddenly Steve was crying and clutching him as if he was his life line.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, rubbing his hands up and down his back, until the crying became a shuddering hiccup.

He pulled a little bit away so he could see Steve’s face. “There you are, Stevie. I found you.”

Steve let out a watery little chuckle.

“Let’s go to the bathroom and wash your face, baby, okay?” Eddie said softly.

They walked to the bathroom with Eddie’s arm still slung over Steve’s shoulders.

They got him cleaned up and calm before Eddie asked, “What happened this time?”

“Old man Miller’s truck backfired.”

Eddie winced. That was his least favorite game to play in the trailer park. Car backfire or gun shot. It was even worse during New Years and the 4th of July. When there was third equally bad option of fireworks.

“And you had a flashback?” he asked, reassuringly.

Steve nodded. “Robin was helping a customer so no one saw me duck behind the counter. But then it happened again.”

“And then you ran for the phone to call me?”

Steve nodded. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate you coming out.”

“You know I always will,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “You help the rest of us with our nightmares and other bullshit, so it’s only fair I help you with this one thing.”

Steve sighed, but it was a light, happy thing. Eddie liked it. A lot.

Steve gave him a hug and Eddie let out a happy sigh of his own. Steve stepped back after a moment and then squeezed Eddie’s arms.

“I really need to get back out there, before Robin kills me,” he murmured, looking away.

“Probably,” Eddie agreed. “But you should tell her about why you call me, okay? She’s really worried about you.”

Steve nodded. “I will.”

Eddie walked with him to the front of the store. “Do you want me to stay nearby while you talk?”

Steve looked at him like he had hung the god damn moon. It was enough to make him blush. Steve smiled softly.

“If you would,” he said quietly.

Eddie nodded and thumbed at the candy section. “You know where to find me.”

Steve nodded and walked over to the registers where Robin was eyeing them.

“Hey,” he greeted warily.

She wrapped him in a huge hug. “You know I’ll always be there for you, right?”

Steve hugged her back, squeezing as tight as he could. “I didn’t want to worry you. It just gets so bad, Robs.”

She just held on. “But Eddie? He helps?”

Steve nodded into her shoulder. “He...” He didn’t know how to explain what Eddie did. What made it different from the love he got from everyone else. It just...was.

“He’s Eddie,” she supplied.

“Yeah.”

And that was all that was really needed. He was Eddie. And that meant comfort.

Robin stepped away and wiped at her eyes. “Stop it before you ruin my makeup. Again.”

Steve laughed. “Didn’t you know that the smudged look is all the rage right now?”

Robin glared at him. “And what would you know about makeup trends?”

“Please between you, Nancy and El leaving all your girly magazines at my place all the time, it’s god damn miracle, I’m not better at this shit then all of you put together.”

She swatted at him playfully, but he dodged it. Soon the where running around the store giggling and cackling like children.

Eddie laughed when Steve hid behind him to get away from her.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he teased. “I’ll save you from the big bad birdie.”

“Hey!” Robin protested.

Steve and Eddie both laughed. Today was a good day, Eddie decided. And judging from the grins on Steve and Robin’s faces, they thought so too.

Part 5 Part 6