#one of the questions would be ''what are you using to play music'' and the answers are
Note
hi! can u write caitlin clark x reader where caitlin is dating a popstar like as big as taylor swift? pls and thank u
# END GAME
pairing: caitlin clark x popstar!reader
word count: 2493
warnings: none!
summary: caitlin acting like an obsessed fangirl when she shows up at your concert.
from lani: this is the oldest ask i have in my inbox and ive been tryna clear out reqs so bear with me y'all!! anyways i kinda like this tbh and might write a part two soon! also here is a link to the full piano version of end game from the eras tour if yall wanna watch that 😋
“GOD, I ACTUALLY have no idea why i’m like, nervous,” caitlin smiles shyly as she thinks out loud. she was currently being recorded for “full court press,” a docu-series that featured her story along with kamilla cardoso’s and kiki rice’s.
the director wanted to get some shots of caitlin being a normal civilian (whatever the hell that means), so he instructed the videographer to follow her around this weekend. and it just so happened that this was the weekend she had tickets for your concert. your twenty-second concert of the tour. let’s just say it was no coincidence that you chose iowa city as the twenty-second show.
right now, she was in the front seat of her family’s car while her older brother, blake, drove them to the venue. caitlin’s phone was currently connected to the car’s aux so she, of course, had to play your music. she had an entire playlist for only your songs, but she would never tell that to anyone. not even you.
“yeah why are you nervous? you just need to like, chill,” her brother says.
“this is my first time seeing her perform since…y’know,” she smirks, hinting at her secret relationship with you.
she shoots a mischievous look to the camera, knowing full well that the audience that would watch this wouldn’t know for sure what she was talking about.
“remind me how you got us free tickets again?” blake fake-questions. he knew about the relationship, each of your families did. but for the sake of the camera recording their every move, he eggs caitlin on.
“i’m close…with her um…management,” she lies as she picks up her phone to text you. the time read “5:04” meaning it was only a few hours until you went on stage.
both of you were ecstatic to see each other here for the first time in months. with caitlin being busy with her basketball career and you traveling constantly on tour, it was difficult, to say the least. that’s one of the reasons tonight was special.
when planning out your tour, you requested that iowa city would be reserved for the twenty-second show of the north america leg and that it would be held at kinnick stadium. the reasoning behind it being the twenty-second show was obvious, as it was your girlfriend’s coveted jersey number.
the motivation for choosing kinnick stadium was that it was where you first met caitlin and where she broke an outstanding record with her team. you were one of the 55,646 people attending the iowa vs. depaul women’s basketball game in 2023. it became the most-attended women’s basketball game in history. you managed to get courtside tickets to the game and ended up getting to talk to caitlin after the win, which obviously led to something more valuable than friendship.
“have you ever talked to her? i heard she’s actually a fan of you,” her brother smirks.
“i’ve talked to her once in person,” she starts, lying of course, “it was actually here at kinnick when we played dupaul. she was in the audience, which was really cool.”
“oh that’s sick, actually. what about online? y’all don’t text or anything?”
“we do but, y’know, we’re not that close,” right as caitlin says this she receives a text from you saying the camera men were cleared for the show as long as they only recorded caitlin, not the show, “she just texted me actually,” she smiles big at the notification as she reads the text out loud. “how far are we from the stadium?”
“about ten minutes.”
“okay cool. i’m so excited, dude, you have no idea.”
“you’re such a fangirl,” blake laughs.
“okay we should have enough footage for now, we’ll start recording again once we get there or once the show starts,” the cameraman says from the backseat.
“sounds good, thank you,” caitlin replies as another text from you pops up on her screen.
my fav girl: can’t wait to see you babe i added a surprise to the setlist for you ☺️
my cc bby: omg no u didnt im alr so excited ur hyping me up even more
my fav girl: ur gonna love it trust 🫡
my fav girl: okay wait i gotta go get ready but ill see u soon!! love u!! 🤍
my cc bby: love u too ill see u out there!! 🤍
———
“i still can’t believe we’re here right now this is crazy,” caitlin says as she looks around the stadium that has started to fill with fans, “welcome to the ‘hits different’ world tour!” she motions to the stage behind her as she smiles at the camera with her arms up in the air.
your album “hits different” became a huge success in the past year. the internet buzzed with anticipation prior to the release and followed through with the praise the second it came out.
your fans posted reaction videos, theories, edits, the whole nine yards to show their appreciation. your songs were heard on radios, at bars, in school talent shows, literally everywhere.
the album was about growing from the mistreatment from former partners and finding true love again after too many instances of hurt.
and right at the center of your inspiration was caitlin. even before you began dating in private, she was your best friend who comforted you through your big breakup. she lifted you up when you felt like you could never get up again.
you poured your heart and soul into the album, expressing all your deepest emotions - positive and negative - through the power of your writing.
you won multiple awards for the project, including vmas for your creative music videos and grammys for your productions. the whole world knew your name. it was everything you ever wanted. but there were downsides.
aside from the expected criticism and hate comments, you faced more serious problems. you started receiving intense backlash for some of the lyrics in your song that dissed your exes, and some people didn’t like your boldness. they retaliated, making it seem like you were the villain despite being so badly hurt from your past relationships. people claimed you were “crazy” and a “drama queen.”
fortunately, the speculations and assumptions only empowered you further. the only thing you had to say to those comments was: “remind me, who’s worth billions of dollars and taking the world by storm right now?”
“where are we sitting, cait?” blake asks.
“we’re in the vip section actually which is insane.”
“dude how did you get vip pit tickets??”
“no, not in the pit, we have our own tent on the floor, i think.”
“no way, bro, you’re lying.”
“i swear! look, see! oh my god our names are on chairs!” she runs over excitedly like a little kid at a playground. the whole experience is making her giddy, acting like a proud mom or teenage fangirl.
“how did you swing this??”
“i have my ways,” she winks at the camera, “the show starts in like an hour so we can chill and maybe get some food? i wanna say hi to other fans and see how they’re feeling.”
and with that she’s rushing back out of the tent and up the stairs to the concession stands swarmed with fans. it’s like she forgets she’s famous too because she gets surprised when her own fans spot her and ask for pictures.
———
“how you guys doin’ out there?” you say into your mic as you walk across the stage to your piano. you hear a raging storm of cheering in response, “sounds good, sounds good,” you laugh. there’s truly nothing you loved more than performing and interacting with your fans.
“so…” you start as you begin to play a few chords softly, “tonight is a very special night for me, for this tour. it is the twenty-second show and we are here in iowa city and i don’t think i could feel any happier,” you beam as you hear more enthused cheers.
“there are many reasons why tonight is special but the most important being…this is where i first met my partner.” the loudest set of cheers yet. your fans were always up to date with your life. they knew boundaries, of course, but they couldn’t help their curiosity.
they cared about who you were with, there was no denying it, and they knew how you loved to draw your inspiration from your relationships. right now you only had one person in mind, but they had yet to figure out who it was exactly.
“and i wanted to give you all a little…gift, per se. let’s just say that i started working on a new album-“ an insane volume of screams cuts you off as you shake your head and laugh. “aw thanks! okay anyways, i’ve been very excited to post for you guys tonight and to see my partner who, yes, is in the crowd, so i wrote a little song.” more screams.
“-and i wanted to get your opinions on it! so here we go, this is the acoustic version of a new song called end game.”
you begin to sing an altered version of the upbeat song over the hums of the piano. the stadium was the quietest it had been all day as fans listened attentively to your lyrics.
little did you know, caitlin was having a mental breakdown of excitement. her face was as red as a tomato and she was practically shaking.
she loved when you would mention her but not mention her. she loved knowing that your relationship was just yours at the moment. she loved knowing that no one could take it away from you. she loved knowing that you were only hers.
and right now, as you make your way through the song, she’s paying close attention to your words. this whole announcement was news to her, and she assumed it was the surprise you had mentioned earlier. she was grinning ear-to-ear as she listened to your voice echo throughout the stadium.
she was entranced by you. the delicate yet passionate tone of your singing, the beaming smile on your flawless face, your bubbly conversations with the crowd - everything.
you had her full attention as you practically declared your love for her in front of thousands of people - millions if you wanted to count the fans that watched through live streams.
she was so enthralled that she didn’t even notice the cameraman pointing his equipment in her direction, capturing her hypnotized expression as she simply smiled watching you on the big screen. the viewers of the documentary would then know who she had fallen so hard for and who you dedicated many of your songs to, but she didn’t care.
all she cared about was you.
———
“thank you so much, iowa city i love you and we will see you all next time! get home safe please!!” you say into the mic as you begin to walk offstage. the sound of wild cheers, fireworks, and confetti cannons fill your ears.
as the final song of the show reaches its climax, you take a second to soak in the moment from the side of the stage. being a performer was one of your favorite parts of your job. you never got tired of any of it - the dancing, the singing, the fans - it was all part of why you started this in the first place.
a few minutes later, you are ushered away from the stage and back towards the dressing rooms to change out of your costume. you are handed a towel and water bottle as you make your way through the concrete tunnel with your staff right behind you.
“y/n, you have a few guests that wanna say hi, would you like me to let them through?” your assistant asks you.
“who are they?” you reply. you weren’t expecting anyone to stay at the venue after the show. you insisted you would meet caitlin and her family back at the hotel so it couldn’t be her, right?
“oh they’re just over there actually,” she responds with a pointed finger, “do you recognize them?”
you follow her direction with furrowed brows only to be met with the familiar faces of your girlfriend and her brother. your jaw drops in shock as you immediately run over to her now outstretched arms.
when you jump to hug her, you both almost fall to the floor from the impact. her arms snake around your waist as she lifts you with ease, squeezing you tightly.
“hi,” you breathe out with a smile, nuzzling your neck into her tall frame.
“hi, princess,” she whispers into your hair.
“i thought we were meeting up at the hotel for dinner? i didn’t think you guys would stay here!”
“you think i could wait that long to see you when i could just finesse my way backstage??”
you laugh at her phrasing, the sound instantly making caitlin melt. “i missed you so much, dude, you have no idea.”
“i missed you too,” she smiles brightly as she sets you back down on the ground. her large hands move to cup your flushed cheeks, “you did so good out there, baby, i’m so proud of you.”
“thank you, cait, that really means a lot to me,” you say sincerely as you momentarily depart from her to greet her brother, “hey blake, how you doin’? enjoy the show?”
“i’m doin’ good, y/n, and yeah, i mean, it was incredible, really,” he answers as he goes to hug you.
“love to hear that, i’m glad you guys had fun!” you reach for caitlin’s hand, holding it gingerly as you begin to walk in the direction of the awaiting golf cart, “i have to change out of this really quick before we go but i’m gonna ask for a space for you guys to hangout in the mean time.”
“what, you mean you have to change out of that sparkly leotard and those four-inch heels?” the brunette jokes.
“i know it’s crazy, i actually wanted to keep everything as pj’s,” you play along as the two of you move to sit on the back of the golf cart.
while you two were entangled in each other’s presence, you failed to notice the cameraman, once again, recording your interaction. he made sure to get both of your permissions to add the clips into the documentary, but he couldn’t help but capture the authentic smiles on both of your faces. he knew that the viewers would be able to feel the love through the screen and be overwhelmed with joy for the two of you.
after tonight’s events, you and caitlin knew that the public would eventually be able to figure out the clues left that all pointed to your intimate relationship.
you were both aware of the consequences, the potential feedback from the internet, but their opinions didn’t matter. the only thing that mattered was that you really were each other’s end games.
#leilanihours#laniwrites#caitlin clark#caitlin clark fluff#caitlin clark smut#caitlin clark x reader#wnba#indiana fever#university of iowa#wcbb#wbb#ncaaw#fluff#part one#x reader#taylor swift#end game#reputation#music#wlw#lgbtq
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More Sherlock & Co Headcanons
Because y'all like the first ones so much.
Mariana is one of those heathens who eats the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn bowl and enjoys it.
John and Sherlock have a rotating cast of answers to the age old client question, "So are you two...?" which only serve to confuse the asker even more. It's an incredibly enjoyable sport. Sherlock often just plays dumb, to John's enormous amusement. It's their favorite inside joke.
When he does actually eat it, Sherlock's go-to breakfast food is a boiled egg and soldiers. Fight me. I will not stand for boiled eggs and soldiers slander they are amazing and Sherlock knows it.
John keeps a collection of bloopers/funny moments he's recorded during cases in a folder on his computer. When he's feeling down, he puts in his earplugs and listens to them. He never fails to get a laugh out of it.
Speaking of language headcanons in the last post, Sherlock speaks fluent Spanish (because of course he does). Sometimes he and Mariana have innocuous conversations in Spanish just to mess with John. He finally gets what it's like to be a stranger watching them all converse in BSL.
Sherlock has a strong appreciation for the musical arts. Once, after a particularly sour case, John took Sherlock to the orchestra to lighten his mood. Sherlock didn't express much outward enjoyment, still drained from the previous week's labor, but the next day the pieces they'd heard rang out through the flat as Sherlock's touch brought them to life from memory on his violin. John found this version infinitely more beautiful than any orchestra. and he even glimpsed the ghost of a smile as Sherlock lost himself in the music.
You know how everyone has a different little doodle they do when they're bored and they've got a pen and a bit of paper around? Well, Sherlock does mandalas and circle scribbles, John does little smiley faces and zig zags, and Mariana writes peoples names in calligraphy.
@obsessed-sketches and I both agree Sherlock wears a really heavy, well-worn coat for the deep-pressure stimulation. And a scarf, because those are absolutely splendid to play/fiddle with and being all wrapped up just adds a whole nother dimension to it all.
John uses Microsoft Edge as his default browser. Mariana's exasperated protests have been completely futile in convincing him to switch and to be honest, who knows if there's any hope left for him anymore.
Speaking of browsers, Sherlock would be such a boss at the 2048 game.
Someday I'm gonna have to write a dance lesson fic, because the idea of Sherlock teaching John to dance for a case lives in my head rent free for literally every SH rendition but these two especially. Sherlock freely infodumping about the history of each song he plays as he shows John how to waltz, John filling the silence with nervous rambling, that rapport setting in and them just falling into step after a few minutes and forgetting time is even passing... I know I mostly HC them as a QPR but dear god the intimacy in that may kill me.
Mariana once introduced Sherlock to the National Day Calendar. National Cellophane Tape Day, National Life Insurance Day, National Raspberry Popover Day, and the likes are now slipped happily into conversations at 221B under Sherlock's firm belief that each one is on par with Christmas in terms of their significance in the public eye. Slay, Sherlock. National Days are awesome.
John makes the cutest sleep noises.
Yk how i said Sherlock likes rainbow sour straps. If you've ever eaten sour straps, you'll know there are two ways to eat them: whole, or by tearing the colours into strips. Clearly, as a civilised human being, Sherlock does the latter.
SHERLOCK WOULD TOTALLY WRITE AWESOME POETRY AND READ IT OUT AND JOHN AND MARIANA WOULD BE STUNNED INTO AWESTRUCK SILENCE
Mariana wears those really big hoop earrings. You know the ones.
AAAAH i should stop before this becomes a mammoth block of text. Maybe I'll make a part three.
Thank you kindly for being unwillingly subjected to my opinions coming to my TED talk.
#please i have too many they are literally exploding out of my head#the innocuous domestic ones are the worst i see them EVERYWHERE#NJKGLG AAAAAAA#i probably need help#ive not proofread this post at all but yk what im posting it#sherlock and co#sherlock & co#jonk watson#sherlock holmes#john watson#mariana ametxazurra#johnlock#jonklock#podlock#sherlock and co headcanons#arter speaks
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Pedri via Residency - May 28, 2024
What is something you still want to accomplish in life? - " A lot of things. I am still very young or do you already want to kill me?"
Favourite teammate at Barça? - "I am close with the group in general but Ferran"
Do you play any instruments? or would you like to learn how to play one? - "Better not for the sake of the rest of the people. I like to listen to music but not much else"
Favourite series or movie? - "Mi reno de peluche and the one about chapo guzman; favourite favourite is Prison Break and La que se avecina"
Do you know anything about Armenia? - "not too much, to be honest… but recently a very nice driver took me to a shooting was from there. His name was Ara"
Favourite moment of the season? - "It wasn't the best season. On a personal level, I would say the brace."
How do you deal with criticism? - "I try to stay out of it, although it's not always possible, of course... you have to try and keep going and keep believing in yourself"
How do you feel about being able to play for Spain after such a long time? - "Very happy. I haven't been able to play for Spain for a long time. Hopefully we will have great EUROs and also a great 24/25 season with Barça"
How did you feel after the brace? - "crazyyyyy"
"I always try to stop and sign, because I remember when I asked for signatures as a kid"
Plans for the summer? - "I hope to go on vacation, but in a month and a half… that will mean that we go far in the euro with the national team"
Have you eaten German food before? - "Yesss... a member of my marketing team is German and he made us German food a long time ago, with sausages and so on"
How is your English? - "I still have to improve a lot. Give me a few months and I will answer in English"
Do you miss doing anything in your daily life? - "I can't complain. I like to live in peace"
Would you like to go to China? - "Of course, yes. Althpugh in the season there is not really time for anything and during holidays I prefer to stay close and rest. Let's see if we ever have a tour in China"
How many trophies have you won? - "With Barça, La Liga, Copa and Supercopa"
Do you feel ready for the EUROs? - "Siiii"
5 UCL Trophies or a World Cup? - "I don't want to choose. I would like to win it all"
Would you like to play against Portugal in the EUROs final? - "Sure. As long as we play in the final, I don't care against who it is"
Pele or Maradona? - "Maradona... Because he played for Barça and my father told me about him when I was younger. I remember the day he died very well because it was my 18th birthday"
Have you been to New York? - "Yes"
Favourite team to play against? - "Obviously Barça" (he did NOT understand that question lmaooo back to duolingo it is)
Visit Uruguay? You have a lot of fans here - "Ronald also told me once... We'll have to listen to him, because otherwise he gets angry"
How was it going to the Spanish GP in 2022? Are you going this year? - "It was a crazy experience. I don't think I can go this year because it clashes with the EUROs"
Do you like going to concerts? - "I haven't been to many, honestly... I have yet to go to one of Quevedo's. And last year they invited me from Spotify to see Coldplay in Barcelona but in the end I didn't go and I regretted it a little. Teammates went and they love it" (who tf turns down coldplay tickets??? 😭)
Your dad is a great person. - "The best"
How do you feel about receiving so much love? - "Very proud and privileged"
Do you want to score for Spain during the EUROs? - "Clarooo. Let's see if I can make it happen, because I haven't scored for Spain yet"
Red or blue? - "Azulgrana"
Do you like to cook? - "I'm not very good at cooking... My brother and mother are much better"
Pedri or Pedro? - "Pedri... Pedro sounds strange to me. From a young age they already called me Pedri, because there was another boy in the team whose name was Pedro and it was to differentiate us... and everyone calls me Pedri"
What do you think of Alexia, Aitana and Marta? - "They are top footballers!"
Is it difficult to have a 'normal' life? - "It's not easy, but mine doesn't change that much because I really like to be quiet and at home"
Only fish or only meat? - "I prefer meat... but for nutrition, fish"
When you were a kid did you make trouble in class? - "I was more of a quite kid"
Who do you think will win the Golden Boy award? - "Well, I hope a Barça teammate. Lamine, and if not Cubarsi"
What inspires you to perform at such a high level on the field? - "I do what I like the most"
What do you think of your season at Barça this year? - "I was saying this the other day. It hasn't been an easy season and I hope the next one will be much better in every single way and we will win titles"
Have you ever wished to have a sister? - "My mother always wanted to have a daughter, but in the end she had to settle for Fer and me hahaha"
How do you feel for the EUROs? - "Very good. Better and better"
Blue or Black? - "Blue"
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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 3
Noah Sebastian X Reader
Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete.
You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Masterlist
Wheeeeeeee!
________
“Heavenly father,” Isaac began. “We ask that you bless this practice session. Allow us to spread your love and light through our music and give us the opportunity to reach the souls that need to hear it. Amen.”
“Amen,” the rest of you repeated.
“Alright, friends. What songs do we want to play this week?”
“I’ve been leaning towards How He Loves Us,” said Darian.
“Okay. I’ll need to refresh myself on the chords,” said Noah. “Everyone on board?”
You nodded along with the others, but as they talked over the song list, you found yourself losing focus. Your eyes drifted over to the front of the stage, where you and Noah had sat on Saturday.
You were always so sure that if presented with temptation, you would be able to resist. It had never once entered your mind that there would be a situation in which your resolve would be tested.
But there on those steps, with Noah looking down over you, you knew you would have let your body take over and do whatever it wanted. For the first time in your life, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself with someone—and yet, you weren’t convinced it was a bad thing.
Okay, were you ready to lose your virginity to him? No. That was a big step to take, considering you’d only ever had one kiss in your life, but you couldn’t deny that you were eager to explore your sexuality more, and that had never been something you were willing to do outside of marriage.
Noah’s logic had you questioning the rules that had been instilled in you. He seemed to think that the rules, particularly those surrounding sex, were not worth following. He had such a confidence about it that you were dying to question where he got it from and what his reasoning behind it was.
Something tugged in the back of your mind, though. Isaac had cautioned you about spending time with him, and how he could lead you down a bad path. You felt yourself straying from what you had always believed, but were they right? Were you being led into a life of sin?
Or was it more complicated than that?
“Okay, everyone clear on the set list for this week?”
You nodded, even though you weren’t clear, but you’d pick it up easily enough. You could always ask Ava if you needed help.
“Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”
It was Isaac. He was closer than you remembered him being. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if I could get your help with something?”
“Okay?” you said, waiting for him to continue.
“So I want to put together a Christmas concert. I could use your voice. And your help with setting it up if you’re down for it.”
“Halloween isn’t even over,” you said.
“These things take time to arrange. It’s better if we get a head start.” He flashed a smile at you and rocked back on his heels, visibly eager for you to agree.
“What all would I need to do?” you asked.
“Really, I just need you to sing the soprano harmonies. And to spread the word about it. Maybe hang some fliers or something. See if any of the women in your dorm want to come. I’m thinking this could be a great outreach project if we maybe add an alter call or something at the end.”
You didn’t want to. You knew you didn’t want to, but you needed something to focus on that wasn’t Noah and the way he had you questioning everything about yourself.
“I’ll think about it,” you said.
“Yess,” he hissed, already taking it as a begrudging agreement, instead of a consideration. “Promise you won’t regret it.”
“Uh-huh.”
The rest of the session was spent practicing the songs for the upcoming service. You wished you had the ability to stay focused, but all you could think about was the softness behind Noah’s eyes when he looked at you, and how eager you were for Saturday to arrive.
______
“Noah can’t come,” Nick said, walking up the concrete pathway that led to the church ground. “He got roped into working overtime at the factory. Won’t be off until 3.”
“Oh,” you said, trying not to let your disappointment show. “Sucks for him.”
“Not really. At least he’s getting paid,” he said. “Otherwise he’d have to be here, doing work for free.”
“Right,” you agreed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“So what’s on the menu for today?” he asked, sounding much more chipper than last week.
“Sorting donations. Our church is holding a drive to help families in need. We’re sorting clothes by size and gender—,”
“Gender is a construct,” he cut in.
“Okay, so by size and masculine vs. feminine then.”
"And what if it's gender-neutral?" he asked.
You sighed. "Use your judgement."
“Got it,” he said and punctuated it with a nod.
“And then if we get done with that, we’ll sort toys by age, and then food by type and expiration date.”
“That sounds like a lot.”
“You shrugged. We’ll just do as much as we have time for.”
You led him down into the basement of the worship center, where all the donation boxes were stored.
“Start with that box. We’ll start sorting it based on gen—er, feminine verses masculine first. Then we’ll do children’s versus adults, and after that, go by size. Feminine clothes go there, masculine over there, you said, pointing to piles on two different tables.
“Sounds good,” he said, picking up a box and getting to work. You got back to work sifting through the box you’d been working on before he had arrived, picking up the clothes, judging which pile they belonged in and whether they were in good enough condition to rehome.
“Make sure you check for things like stains and tears. We don’t want to be sending people damaged things.”
“Got it,” he said.
Nick paused to remove his black hoodie, and you allowed yourself to sneak a glance over at him while he worked. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing tattoos on his arms, though not nearly as many as Noah. He was more muscular than you realized, biceps flexing and relaxing as he folded the clothes.
“I see you staring,” he said and you looked up at him to find him smirking at you.
“I was looking at your tattoos.”
“Sure you were,” he said. “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind.”
“I wasn’t staring,” you said, looking away from him and back down to the pile of clothes you were sorting.
“And here I was thinking I’d finally caught the Virgin Mary in an act of lust.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
He slid out from behind the table he was working at and stood next to you, picking up a shirt from the pile in front of you and checking the tag.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Just thought you looked like you could use some help over here.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”
The pair of you worked together in tense silence. You had to admit, the work did go much faster when he was helping. Nick worked hard and rhythmically, settling into a pace that easily bested yours. Every so often, his arm would brush up against yours, and you couldn’t figure out if it was on purpose.
“My god, who donated this?!” he exclaimed after a while. You looked over and he was holding a pair of bright yellow children’s pants with a brown stain across the back, his face scandalized.
You snorted loudly. Nick caught it and his face lit up with his own laughter, and the two of you devolved into a fit of giggles.
“We should probably toss that one,” you said after regaining your composure and pointed to the trash can in the corner. He agreed, balling the garment up and tossing it into the trash, easily sinking it into the basket even though it was across the room.
“Do you think the rest are contaminated?” he asked.
You shook your head. “The organizers washed all of these in big industrial washers. It’s just a stain. Still gross though.”
“Still gross,” he agreed.
“Alright, since we’re almost done with this box, I’m gonna grab the next one,” you said, but before you could even try to lift it, Nick had stepped in front of you, hoisting it easily up onto the table with no effort. Impressive, considering you’d been struggling to even lift the boxes of clothing yourself.
“Thanks,” you said.
“No problem. Hey, so you know how I always say you could use more fun.”
You paused folding the shirt in your hands and raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true.”
You maintained your cool expression.
“Well, we’re doing a Halloween gig tonight at Jolly’s. You should come.”
You considered it. If the band was playing, that meant Noah would be there, and you’d get to see what he’s like outside of community service. It sounded tempting, but—
“I already committed to handing out candy to trick-or-treaters with the worship team.”
Nick let out a sound of annoyance. “Are you always doing church stuff?”
You laughed. “Kind of.”
“Well, what time does it go until?” he asked.
“I think trick-or-treat ends at 8:30.”
“Perfect,” he said. “The party doesn’t even start until after 9:00.”
You considered for a moment, not sure if it would be a good idea.
“I can practically hear you talking yourself out of it.”
“It’s just…,” you began.
“You’re worried you’ll get pulled into a life of sin?” he finished. “Come on. It’s one party. You don’t even have to drink.”
You thought about it. It could be interesting to see the band perform. Get an idea of the kind of music Noah’s into.
“Can I bring a friend?” you asked.
He chuckled, “sure, if it’ll get you to come.”
“Okay. Where should I go?”
Nick smiled. “Where’s your dorm? I can pick you and your friend up there at 9:00 and we’ll head over together.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, and wear a costume.”
_______
“No way! Really?!” Ava half-shouted.
“Don’t go crazy. I’m bringing you to be my accountability partner,” you said. “Make sure I don’t make any bad decisions while I’m there.”
“What bad decisions would you even make?” she said, “You’re the most responsible out of all of us.”
“I don’t know,” you said. “I’ve never been to this kind of party before, so I don’t know what to expect.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said. “Don’t be such a worrier.”
She had a point. You doubted you were going to do anything. But then again, you had experienced your first real temptation only a week ago, and had Nick not walked in, you weren’t one hundred percent positive you would have resisted.
Only time would tell.
_________
Trick-or-treating went smoothly. You and the rest of the worship band got dressed up in your costumes and handed out candy from the steps leading up to the church. Other organizers in your congregation had set up a mini obstacle course for the children, and a table full of apple cider and glazed donuts stood beside it, with many members of the church gathered around it.
These were the kinds of events you loved helping out at. There was such a sense of community that made you feel like you were part of something greater than yourself. Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces made putting up with the more annoying tasks well worth it.
Ava dressed as a medieval princess in a flowing white and pink gown. Isaac went as a pirate. Darian and Josh wore matching “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” costumes. You were dressed as your favorite historical president, but with a twist. The kids loved your costumes, but their own costumes were just as creative.
Part of the event that the church put on involved a costume contest, where the winner would receive a gift certificate for free pizza, soda, and dessert at the local pizza restaurant. It wasn’t much, but the kids had gone all out for it.
You and the worship band were in charge of judging the costumes, and after much deliberation between the robot (your choice) and the wolverine (Isaac’s choice), the robot eventually won out.
“It had blinking LEDs and functioning buttons with sound effects!” you said, when Isaac was salty about the outcome.
“The kid had home-made retractable claws! Do you know how much engineering that takes?”
“Sorry. The results were fair.”
“Whatever. What are you guys doing after this? Want to go bowling?”
“Actually, we already have plans,” Ava said.
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“We were invited to watch a local band.”
“Oh nice. Where is it? I might want to stop by.”
“Oh, uh. I actually don’t know. Our friend is going to pick us up,” you said, growing nervous.
Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Which friend?”
You shifted, not knowing how to answer him.
“It’s the delinquents,” said Ava, unconcerned with the tension that had grown. “Calm down, we’ll be fine.”
Isaac looked at you as if you had told him you were going to a strip club. “That sounds like a really bad idea,” he said. “Are you sure about this? Do you want me to escort you?”
“Yes I’m sure. And no, we don’t need a chaperone. It’s just listening to a band.”
“Yeah,” said Isaac. “A secular band.”
“Isaac chill. She asked me to be her accountability partner. She’s covered. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have to get going.”
Ava grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away. Isaac looked like he wanted to follow, but thought better of it and turned away.
“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” she said when the two of you were out of earshot.
“Thanks. I owe you,” you said. “What’s his problem?”
“He doesn’t like them. He’s been talking to me about it. He believes they’re bad news, but I think he’s just jealous, to be honest. You’re no longer paying attention to him the way you used to and he knows it.”
“What a crybaby,” you said.
“I mean, can you blame him? You spent the last several years at his beck and call, and now suddenly you dip.”
“That’s not exactly fair,” you said. “You were the same way with him.”
“Yeah, well, maybe both of us are to blame.”
“You might be right.”
You and Ava reached your dorm, where Ava stripped off the overskirt of her dress, revealing a much shorter version of her costume, complete with knee socks and heels.
“Whoa!” you exclaimed.
“I told you I wanted to experience life on the other side,” she said. “This is my chance. Don’t judge me.”
“Honestly, I’m more impressed than anything. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s a little much for your first party? Like, should you scope it out first before taking a risk like that?”
Ava shrugged. “I’m tired of the same boring things every day. I could use a little risk-taking.”
You bit back your comments, knowing that you weren’t going to change her mind. She was headstrong, which you loved about her, but it also worried you at times.
“Just don’t get too carried away, okay?” you said.
“I’m going to have at least one drink while I’m there.”
“You’re supposed to be my accountability partner!”
“I can still hold you accountable. It’s just one drink.”
You sighed and rubbed your forehead, acknowledging to yourself that it may have been a mistake to bring her.
“Please just don’t make me babysit you the whole time. I want to enjoy myself.”
“I promise. I’ll keep my wits about me. I’ll have one drink. We’ll listen to the music, maybe do a little dancing. Maybe I’ll have my first kiss, and then we’ll be home by midnight.”
You groaned. “Drinking and kissing? That’s a lot to pack into one night.”
“It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Don’t worry about me. You just focus on enjoying yourself, okay? This is your first real party. You should be excited for you! Not worried for me.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on your door. You looked at the clock on your phone and it read 8:57.
“He’s early for once.”
You opened the door to reveal Nick’s bare chest with the image of an eagle holding a fish inked onto it. A tiny purple vest barely covered his shoulders.
“Aladdin?” you asked.
“At your service,” he said, lifting the fez he wore up in salute.
“Nice,” you commented. “Nick, this is Ava.”
“Princess Ava,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “I like your costume.”
Ava burst into a fit of giggles at the flattery. “Yours too.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” you said to Nick, already knowing what he was thinking. You saw his eyes scan up and down Ava’s legs.
“What are you supposed to be?” he asked. “A sexy founding father?”
“Baberaham Lincoln,” you clarified, fiddling with the fake beard to ensure its placement.
He scanned you up and down. “I guess I see it,” he said slowly. “But to truly pass as a babe-ified version of Lincoln, I think you need to be a little sexier.”
“I wore red lipstick,” you defended.
“You could stand to undo a few buttons on your shirt. Or tie it up to make a crop top,” Ava suggested.
“I’m good,” you said.
Nick shrugged. “Suit yourself. Come on.”
You and Ava followed him out the door and began your walk towards town. Jolly’s house was supposedly a mile or so away from campus. The wind carried a chill, but Ava and Nick seemed to not notice, too enraptured in conversation. They were obviously flirting, and you’d have to remember to warn Ava about him. And threaten Nick.
The walk was quicker than you expected, and you vaguely recognized the part of town Jolly lived in. The house was light blue with black shutters. It spanned two floors, but wasn’t in great shape. Partygoers spilled out onto the front porch and lawn, all dressed in a variety of costumes. You noticed most were homemade, and you appreciated that, but they also showed much more skin than you were used to seeing and you felt overdressed. You unbuttoned one button at the top of your blouse.
“So ladies,” Nick said, gesturing to the crowd. “This is a party. Can I get either of you something to drink?”
“I’m fine,” you said.
“I’ll take a drink,” said Ava.
Nick grinned. “Excellent. What would you like?”
“What do they have?” she asked.
“Follow me to the kitchen and I’ll show you.” Nick and Ava made their way into the crowd, while you hung back a few paces, wanting to get your bearings before immersing yourself into the sea of people. You scanned the strangers, looking for Noah, but came up empty.
So this was a party. It looked like people were having fun. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but it was very crowded and noisy. You wondered if alcohol was the key to enjoying this. Or perhaps knowing more people. Maybe you just didn’t know anyone so it was hard for you to keep from feeling out of place.
You walked up the steps and across the porch, weaving in and out among partygoers and noticing the various costumes. Superheroes, characters from popular movies and comic book series. A lot of people dressed as celebrities, and then more generic costumes like firefighter and nurse. Several girls walked around in black bodysuits with cat ears and whiskers painted on their faces. You wondered if they all knew each other.
Stepping into the house, you were met with a big cloud of cigarette smoke. It wafted into the air and permeated throughout the entire house. There was another smell too that you didn’t recognize, but you guessed was marijuana.
The tile floor was sticky, you noticed. Your shoes peeled away from the ground with each step and you could almost feel the film they were collecting. It was also hot and humid inside the house, with all the bodies that were crammed in.
Electric neon lights flashed all around in the living room, where several people gathered. It looked like that was where people went to dance. In the kitchen, Ava and Nick leaned up against the counter while Nick poured some red liquid from a large Hawaiian Punch container labeled “jungle juice.” He handed it to Ava and she smiled up at him. His hand went to rest around her waist and she blushed. You’d have to intervene eventually, but for now, you wanted to let Ava have her fun.
You took a swig of water out of the bottle you’d tucked into the inside pocket of your blazer, which was quickly growing too warm. You couldn’t abandon it though, or else nobody would know what you were dressed as—not that it mattered much. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and nobody was paying attention to you.
You found yourself a corner of the living room to stand in and you leaned against the walls, watching the guests as they danced. Some were dancing on each other. Some were making out, while others danced with abandon, twirling their arms above their heads and jumping up and down. It reminded you of summer camp, when you’d do the same thing. Dance with reckless abandon to the worship music—although the context of this dancing was wildly different.
You missed being a kid and getting to participate in all the different activities in the church. Now that you were an adult, you’d taken on more of an organizer and leadership role, overseeing all of these activities. You liked the work, but had much more fun when you were a kid, before all the responsibility kicked in.
A tall figure coming down the stairs caught your eye and you recognized him immediately. He hadn’t seen you yet, and you were perfectly content to watch him from afar.
Noah was dressed in all black. He had switched out his hoodie for a tank top, which displayed the full scope of his tattoos. He wore his hair tied back, but on his head sat a pair of shiny, dark black horns. He held a glass beer bottle in one hand and sipped casually from it.
As he made his way through the crowd, it soon became clear he was one of the more popular guests. Several people went out of their way to greet him by offering high-fives, fist bumps, or by tapping their drinks to his. A couple women were more affectionate—they greeted him by throwing their arms around his neck and wrapping him in a hug, and it was hard to admit your own jealousy to yourself. Noah could have female friends, and it wasn’t a betrayal of whatever small connection the two of you had established. Even still, it was uncomfortable to watch.
You could see the moment he spotted Nick, as he immediately made his way over to them. You were relieved to see he greeted him with more enthusiasm than anyone else. Nick introduced Ava, who shook Noah’s hand. You could see on her face that while she was just as taken aback by the abundance of tattoos as you were originally, she was visibly interested in learning who this newcomer was.
Ava said something else to Noah, who smiled and laughed, and then Nick chimed in, but you couldn’t hear any specifics. In response, Noah perked up and turned to scan the room. Nick leaned toward his friend to mention something else, pointing in your direction, and when Noah finally spotted you, he nodded and started in your direction.
That was your cue to come out of your little secluded corner. Locking eyes with him, you noticed he wore a pair of contacts that completely blacked out his eyes and made him look like a demon, which you supposed was the intent. Despite that, you were warmed by his smile.
When he reached you, he greeted you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and you found yourself wishing you had worn something sleeveless so you could feel the full effect of his touch.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” Noah asked, curious but pleased. “And what are you supposed to be?”
“I’m Baberaham Lincoln!” you said. “I thought more people would get that.”
Noah paused, scanned you up and down, and then doubled over in laughter.
“Thank you,” he said, and surprised you by wrapping you up in a warm hug and pressing you into his chest. “You made my night.”
Noah was very sweaty, and you could smell the slight sourness of body odor on him beneath the patchouli scent, but that didn’t detract from how much you enjoyed the embrace.
“Are you dressed as a demon?” you asked when he finally pulled away.
“Something like that. I didn’t put much thought into it. Just wanted to look scary.”
“Well, it did the trick,” you said. “Your eyes are kind of freaking me out.”
He smiled down at you in response and despite the unsettling costume, you felt your affection for him grow.
“You don’t mind if I drink, do you?” he asked.
“I’m not here to stop you from having any fun. I’m on your turf now.” You had to lean towards him to be heard over the sound of the music and the crowd.
“I’m really surprised you came,” he confessed. “It doesn’t seem like your normal scene, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” you said. Shrouded in his presence, you began to understand the appeal of these parties.
“Fair warning though,” he said, leaning down next to your face so you could hear him. “You probably aren’t going to like our music. It’s not exactly your style.” You were met with the slight pressure of his palm on your lower back, and you wondered if the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions.
“Yeah, I know,” you said, reaching into your pockets and pulling out two foam pieces. “I brought earplugs just in case.”
He grinned, dark contacts not taking away from his genuine delight. “That’s my girl.” Something erupted in your stomach at the nickname. “Hey, come here. I want to introduce you to the band.” He led you by the hand through the party and back out onto the front porch.
“This is Ruffilo and Jolly,” he said, introducing you to two other heavily-tattooed and long-haired men. “You already met Folio, our drummer. Ruffilo plays bass and Jolly pays guitar. His real name is Joakim, but we all call him Jolly.”
“Nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand to each of them to shake.
“This is that girl I was talking about who oversees the community service.”
“Virgin Mary!” Jolly exclaimed in recognition.
Your face fell and you looked up at Noah sourly.
“Shit,” he said. “That probably wasn’t cool, was it?” he asked.
“No, not really,” you said, stepping away from him.
“Sorry, okay guys. Just Mary. Not Virgin Mary.”
“Man, come on,” you whined, and Noah giggled to himself at his own joke. You realized you were stuck with the nickname, probably for as long as you and Noah would know each other.
“So people keep requesting we play Dethrone,” said Jolly. “I think we should.”
Noah’s eyes glanced over at you and his demeanor turned to hesitant. “No Dethrone,” he said. “I’m not feeling it tonight.”
“Okay, but you don’t get to make decisions for the whole band,” reasoned Ruffilo.
“I don’t know if my voice is up to it,” Noah said. “It’s a hard one to perform.”
Ruffilo sighed. “They’re not going to be happy about it.”
“Maybe next time,” said Noah. “When I remember to bring the Throat Coat.”
Jolly fixed Noah with a look of displeasure, but sighed and relented. “Fine, but don’t neglect your vocal exercises in the future. It’s our biggest crowd-pleaser.”
“Got it,” said Noah. “I won’t.”
Ruffilo pulled out what looked like a hand-wrapped cigarette which you recognized as a joint and lit it up. He took a deep inhale before passing it to Noah, who accepted and sucked back a long drag.
“You don’t mind if I do this, do you?” he intoned, keeping the air trapped in his lungs as he spoke before exhaling a few moments later.
“Not at all,” you said, though something was telling you it was time to take some space.
“Hey, I’m gonna go find Ava,” you said. “You guys have fun.”
“You good?” asked Noah, looking at you with sincerity.
You nodded. “Promise. I just want to check on her.”
“Okay,” he said, taking another drag. “We go on in a few minutes, but I’ll meet up with you after our set. Wait for me?”
“Of course,” you said, softening despite your discomfort.
You didn’t want to leave his side, but if you stayed, you knew you’d be uncomfortable with the situation and you’d already exposed yourself to enough unfamiliarity that night.
You made your way back into the kitchen, noting that Nick and Ava had moved. You scanned around the house and finally spotted them on the dance floor. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and they were pressed up close to each other. He whispered something into her ear and she threw her head back in laughter.
It was innocent enough, but you’d step in if you felt like you had to.
Wandering through the house, you searched for a quiet spot and a breath of fresh air. You spotted a back door down a short hallway and made a beeline for it, opening to find it a small back yard with a firepit and only a few people standing around it.
You made your way through the yard, past the fire pit and to the back edge where an old shed sat. You leaned against it, closing your eyes and breathing deep. The cool night air filled your lungs, along with the scent of burning wood from the fire.
You were reminded of nights like these spent at church camp during Vespers. Gathering around the campfire and signing along with whoever played the acoustic guitar. Some of the most transformative times of your life happened around those fires. You felt so connected to God. The Holy Spirit permeated through the air, vibrating with intensity and everyone there could feel it. In that moment, you knew that everyone around that fire, no matter where they came from, felt the exact same way you did.
Now, you felt disconnected from your surroundings in an all-consuming way. It was as if everyone else was riding an energetic frequency you couldn’t seem to find and didn’t know if you wanted to. Even Ava, your best friend, assimilated seamlessly into the party atmosphere.
You breathed deeply in and out through your nose and ran your fingertips along the paint that was flaking off the siding of the shed, which served to ground you in the way you needed. You knew you’d have to rejoin the party soon, but you were grateful for this private moment of solace.
As if on cue, the sound of guitars blasted through the back door, demanding your presence. You took out the ear plugs and stuffed them into your ears, the foam muffling the sound and softening the world around you, which had grown abrasive in the last hour or so.
_____
The basement floor was damp and even stickier than the kitchen. It was also much more crowded than the upper floor had been now that the entire party was gathered into a single space.
The crowd looked on eagerly as the band set up and did their sound checks. The excitement was tangible and you had no idea Noah’s band had such a following.
“Check. Check,” Noah shouted into the microphone. “I need more in my monitor.” You looked to the back of the room where a small table was set up and someone was running sound.
The sound check took several minutes, but once all the levels were steady, Noah opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest and most demonic sounds you’d ever heard come from a person. You jumped out of your skin, feeling your arm hair stand on end.
Four clicks from Nick’s drumsticks and the entire band joined in, producing a volume even your ear plugs couldn’t compete with.
“Alright you motherfuckers,” Noah shouted. “We’re Bad Omens and we’ve come to steal your souls on this beautiful Hallow-fucking-ween.”
The crowd cheered. Many began jumping up and down in time with the music. The lights flashed from bright green to a deep red, and Noah began to sing.
“Dead on the inside!”
You never knew live music could be this loud or a crowd this energetic. You’d gone to a few Christian rock concerts, but they were nothing compared to what was happening in front of you.
As the band played through the first few verses of the opening song, the energy of the crowd steadily grew. By the time they hit the crescendo, it looked like a fight had broken out in the audience.
You were immediately put on guard, not sure why nobody else was reacting to it, including the band, when you overserved a few minutes longer and realized that the audience seemed to be…enjoying themselves. It wasn’t a fist fight, you noted. It looked like a bunch of people pushing each other around and flailing their bodies into each other.
Moshing. They were moshing. You remember hearing about it from Isaac, who was into more of the heavier music like The Devil Wears Prada. He said they headlined a Christian music festival he went to over the summer and mentioned that he’d been in a mosh pit, describing what it had been like in vivid detail.
Looking at the audience now, you couldn’t ever imagine someone like Isaac holding their own in a crowd like this.
The next several songs went on like that. The energy of the crowd never died down, and Noah alternated between screaming and singing. You had no idea how his throat could even handle making those noises without bleeding halfway through the first song. You’d have to ask him about that later.
All-in-all, he was right. It definitely wasn’t your preferred style of music, but you could appreciate the passion behind it. Noah’s singing voice was actually beautiful. He hit high notes you’d never heard a man hit before, and he did it with ease. You wished he would stick to that type of singing, but you supposed there had to be an appeal to the screaming, or else the crowd wouldn’t be so lively.
Despite it not being your style, you had fun watching the band perform. Noah’s passion was obvious. He threw his entire body into his performance, letting the music reverberate from deep inside him, and you were content to watch him in his natural habitat.
The juxtaposition was wild. He was normally so closed off and reserved. Here, he was uninhibited. It was like he belonged on a stage and in front of a microphone, and you found yourself feeling happy that he found this outlet for himself.
When the band played their final note, Noah thanked the crowd for coming out and told them all where they could purchase merch and download music.
“Dethrone!” someone shouted from the audience.
“Not tonight, guys. That one’s hard on my throat,” he said.
“Dethrone!” more people shouted. The crowd began to chant over and over again.
“I mean, it’s Halloween. We kind of have to play it,” the man you’d met earlier—Ruffilo—said into the mic.
“Dethrone! Dethrone! Dethrone!” the crowd chanted, and you wondered what kind of song it must be to cause the crowd to react so strongly.
Noah hesitated, looking very torn. He scanned the crowd for a few moments before locking eyes with you and his face held a look of what you could only describe as apology. He held eye contact with you for several minutes, and then he sighed and turned back to the crowd.
“Alright all you fucking cowards, this one’s called Dethrone, and I want to see you tear this fucking place to the ground.”
The guitar came in with a fast and heavy riff for a few bars before the bass and drum joined them. The lights flashed on and off and Noah let out a deep, guttural growl that lasted several bars.
The crowd went absolutely feral. The entire audience began thrashing around and pushing up against one another. Even at the back of the room, you got shoved left and right.
Throughout the noise of the crowd and the screaming you could only make out bits and pieces of the lyrics.
“…when I was killed and born again.”
“If he’s home I’ve got a message from below. Fuck you.”
“…Take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face.”
The moment you realized what the song was about, you reached your breaking point. You had to get out of there. You did your best to navigate your way over to the stairs through the sea of thrashing people. You were almost to the steps when someone slammed an elbow hard into the side of your face.
“Ow!” you shouted, but nobody paid attention. You reached the railing and pulled yourself up from the crowd, rushing up the stairs as fast as you could and outside the back door of the house.
You could still hear the song from the outside, but it was muffled enough for you to take a few deep breaths. Your face stung where it had been hit, and you had to shake your hands vigorously to steady yourself.
It was too much. It was all too much. Not just the party and the drinking and the drug use, but the anger of it all. The violence. The deliberate threats made towards the God you’ve known and loved your entire life. The hatred towards Him. And it felt personal. It felt like an attack on everything you’ve built your life around.
You let out a choked sound, no longer able to hold the tears back. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying hard not to make noises in case anyone was around, and stumbled your way to the back of the shed, where hopefully nobody could witness your state.
Inside, you heard the song come to an end and the crowd give one final cheer for the band.
You knew the crowd would be dispersing soon and there was a chance someone would stumble upon you. The yard was completely fenced in and in order to get out, you’d have to go through the house.
You sank to your knees, clutching at the frigid blades of grass, which helped steady you a little. Tears still pouring down, you tried to steady your breathing as best as you can, when you heard your name being called.
It was Noah. You didn’t want to answer him. Didn’t want him to see you like this. In your head, you prayed a silent prayer he would go back into the house and let you compose yourself in peace.
God, however, had other plans.
“Shit,” Noah said as he turned the corner of the shed and found you. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” He knelt down in front of you, trying to get a look at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you choked out.
“Shit,” he said again, noticing your tears. “Come on, let me walk you home.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want to go back through there.” You hid your face, feeling ashamed at your own reaction.
“Come on, let’s talk,” he said, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you to your feet.
“I said I’m fine,” you protested. This time it came out sharper. You didn’t want to take your feelings out on him, but you found it impossible to control your tone in the moment.
“Let’s at least get you into a quiet room. Come on, my studio is in this shed. Nobody will bother you. Promise.”
At the promise of a quiet space with nobody to see you, you relented and allowed him to lead you around the side of the shed. He unclipped a set of keys from a carabiner on his belt loop and used one of them to unlock the door, ushering you inside. He relocked it behind him and plugged in a set of string lights that cast the room in a warm, dim glow.
“Have a seat,” he said and gestured to the couch that lined the wall on one side. You obeyed, sitting on the couch and doubling over, arms crossed over your legs and head buried in them. You continued to work to steady yourself.
Noah set a box of tissues beside you, and then rolled his desk chair in front of where you were sitting. He sat facing you, long legs on either side of your knees. Then he placed his hands firmly on your shoulders.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
You nodded into your arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded again.
“What happened?” he asked, voice softer now.
“I had a panic attack.” Your voice came out muffled.
“Because of the song?” he said.
You nodded again.
“Shit,” he said for the third time.
“And I got elbowed in the face.”
“Shit.” A fourth. “Can I see?”
You shook your head no.
“Please? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Reluctantly, you lifted your head to show him.
He let out a compressed breath. “Oof. Yeah, it looks like you’ve got yourself a bit of a shiner,” he said, cupping your face gently.
You refused to meet his eyes, instead opting for a tissue so you could blow your nose. An embarrassing amount of mucus shot into the tissue. Then you pulled a second one to wipe off any makeup that may have smeared.
“Does it hurt?”
You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“Is that your favorite word or something?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you about the crowd. I’m so used to that stuff now. I forget what it’s like for someone who’s never been to a show like that before.”
“It’s fine,” you said.
“It’s not though. I’d been drinking. I didn’t have my wits about me, and because of that you got hurt.”
You sighed. “It wasn’t the elbow,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. His brows furrowed with concern and he let his hands slide down to rest on your knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over them. You could only handle eye contact for a second before you had to look away again. “Is that how you really feel?”
Noah puffed out a breath. “I didn’t want you to have to see that.”
“I knew you had a lot of anger. But not that much.”
He dropped his head, staring at where his hands rested on your knees. “It must have been pretty jarring.”
“Yeah,” you admitted. “I think it was just a lot for me. I was out of my comfort zone all night, and then that happened. I’ve never seen so many people with such…disdain for God.”
Noah dug his thumbnail into your thigh softly and bit his lip.
“I know.”
“Why though? Why all the anger? Why the hate? And why do you hang out with those people?”
“I’m one of them,” he said. “I know it might be hard to digest, especially since you’ve been protected from it for so long, but there are a lot of people out there who feel that way. It doesn’t necessarily make them bad people.”
“But that wasn’t just anger. That was hate.”
“Yeah,” he said, cupping the backs of your thighs. He still wasn’t explaining anything and you were growing frustrated.
“What am I not getting?” you finally asked.
Noah hesitated, fingers drawing patterns over your pants.
“Not everyone has the best upbringing,” he explained, voice tender. “There are people born into shitty situations and they never receive the help or support they need. Life doesn’t provide opportunities to them the way it does for some others, and after a while, the injustice of it all gets to be too much.”
He gave you an opportunity to respond, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“My parents were addicts. I think I already mentioned it. And I was born in a town where half the people don’t make it to 18 without an addiction of some sort. Ruffilo and I were lucky to escape, but I’ve seen friends and families torn apart by drugs and crime. I’ve seen pregnant 14-year-old girls turn to prostitution to afford their drug habits. Do you know how hard that is to watch?”
You shook your head.
“If God exists, how can I not be angry with him for allowing shit like that to happen?”
You were at a loss for words, humbled even in your hurt.
“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, squeezing your thighs with his hands. “I don’t judge you for how you feel about God. But I do need you to accept that this part of me exists. And it’s not going anywhere. At least, not for a while.”
A couple more tears dripped from your lashes and landed on Noah’s hands. He didn’t flinch away. Instead, he brought a thumb up to your cheekbones and wiped off the remaining wetness that clung to your lashes.
“Look. I don’t know if I believe in God. But if he does exist, and he’s as loving as you say he is, I have to believe he’ll forgive me for how I act in my anger. I think he’ll understand why that anger is necessary for me to feel, and I don’t think he’d punish me for it. If anything, I think he’d allow me to move through it for as long as I need. Or want me to, even, so that I can process it and eventually move on.”
As Noah spoke, something washed over you like a wave. A tension that had been growing inside of you for as long as you could remember began to release, and with it came a brand new understanding.
“Noah,” you whispered. “Have you ever thought about being a pastor?”
Noah’s face broke into a smile and he huffed out a breath of air that fanned out over your face. He smelled like stale beer and smoke, but there was another layer underneath that smelled vaguely sweet.
“That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“No, I’m serious,” you said with a sniffle, and wiped away another tear. “You know more about God than any church leader I’ve met.”
“I think sometimes it’s hard to see the bigger picture when you’re too close,” he whispered, face now much closer to yours. “I have the benefit of having stepped away.”
You were silent for a moment, digesting the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but you weren’t ready to go back and rejoin the party.
“Can I show you something I’ve been working on?” asked Noah.
“Sure,” you said.
He kicked his feet into the floor and pushed back from where you were sitting, rolling across the floor and over to his desk. He fiddled with a few wires and switches before opening his laptop and pulling up a program.
“I’ve had this melody in my head for a while,” he said, messing with some of the controls before hitting play. “I don’t have any words yet, but I wanted to show you.”
A soft melody began playing through the speakers. Somber. Completely different from any of the songs you’d heard during their set.
“How long have you been working on this?” you asked as the music played.
“A couple of weeks,” he said, not offering much more explanation.
He wouldn’t meet your eye. Rather, he fidgeted with an auxiliary cable, twisting it around in his hands while simultaneously bouncing his legs up and down softly in time with the drums on the track.
The slow melody held out through the song, but the music grew in intensity, settling into a low-fi R&B vibe.
Seemingly growing restless, Noah spun back around in his chair to face you. He muttered something but you were unable to decipher it over the music.
“What?” you asked.
“I’ve been experimenting with different styles,” he said, a little louder. “Hoping to expand my skills.”
“I like this,” you said. “Definitely more to my tastes.”
He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “Metal isn’t for everyone.”
“I see the appeal of it,” you said. “I’m sure it resonates with a lot of people, even if I’m not one of them. Your band has a lot of…uh…passionate fans.”
The smile reached both sides of his mouth and he inched closer to you.
“What made you decide to come tonight?” he asked, and you knew it was important for you to be honest in that moment.
“I wanted to see you.”
Like a magnet to metal, Noah gravitated toward you again. There were no false pretenses for why. He wanted to be near you.
Resuming his position from earlier, he sat across from you, legs stretched out on either side of yours. He leaned back in his fancy office chair, and you mirrored him, sinking deeper into the couch.
You watched him watching you, scanning his features for any signals as to what was going on inside his head at that moment. The music played out through the speakers and neither of you made any efforts to fill space or silence. When the song reached its conclusion, it stopped automatically, and it was a while before anyone spoke.
“Does it have a name?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“Not yet,” he said.
“It’s good. I don’t have much music knowledge to say exactly what it is that I like about it, but I can tell I like it. I’d be interested in seeing how it progresses.”
“Good,” he said, arms folded over his torso. He swiveled slightly from left to right, knees knocking into yours as he did.
You looked from your legs back up to his face and he met your gaze. Normally, you’d be the first one to break a silence like this, finding discomfort in the tension, but that night, you waited, wanting to see what Noah would do.
It took a long time for him to crack, but when he finally did, it was to ask you a question.
“Did you do what we talked about?”
You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to be more direct with his question.
“Masturbate?” The word held a slight choked sound, as if there’d been an obstacle in his throat trying to get it out.
You nodded.
“How was it?”
“It…was.”
And that was the truth. You’d made an attempt, but experienced a few difficulties. While you went into it with the intention of showing love to yourself without shame, getting rid of that shame was easier said than done.
For one, you couldn’t imagine yourself agreeing to have sex without feeling guilty, which forced you to jump through several mental hoops involving being restrained and forced in order to feel like you had any sort of plausible deniability you could use should God choose that moment to judge you.
However, in doing that, you felt extremely guilty for engaging in that fantasy, because any real victim of sexual assault would not be thinking about it that way, and should you really be romanticizing that kind of thing? You ended up heavily judging yourself before God even had a chance to judge you.
“I ran into some…difficulties.”
“Mentally or physically?” he asked, left thigh pressed up against your right.
“I think mental.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You sighed. “Yeah, kind of. But don’t judge me, okay?”
“If you pictured Isaac, I’m going to have to judge you.”
You shook your head. “I didn’t picture Isaac.”
“Good. Who did you picture?”
“Nobody,” you lied. “Just some nameless, faceless person.”
Up until that point, the conversation had flowed quickly like a game of table tennis, but the lie threw off the rhythm. Noah wasn’t satisfied. He allowed you to get away with it and didn’t press you on it, but now it was his turn for something.
He leaned forward, hands resuming their place on your knees, and looked at you as if he dared you to protest.
You didn’t.
“What difficulties did you have?”
You hesitated. He dug his thumbnail into your thigh.
“I had to imagine myself being forced.”
“Forced?” His hands stilled.
“Like tied up.”
His eyebrow quirked upward. His gaze dropped to where your hands rested in your lap. Sliding his hands up your legs, he encircled your wrists in his long fingers and turned them so they faced upwards, palms open to the sky as if in praise. He kept a tight hold while his eyes flicked briefly back up to meet yours.
Noah was playing a game of chicken. Seeing how far he could push you until you cracked.
“It’s a common fantasy,” he said, voice low and breathy. “Makes sense.”
“You don’t think it’s messed up?”
Noah rubbed his thumbs along the inside of your wrists, stopping every once in a while to apply pressure to different points. He stared at them while he spoke.
“I try not to judge myself for my fantasies. As long as there’s consent, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“You don’t think that it’s disrespectful to people who have been forced in real life?”
He sucked on the inside of his cheek and released it with a clicking sound before taking a deep breath. “Many survivors actually find healing through engaging in that kink.”
“It’s hard to imagine myself consenting without the guilt creeping in.”
Noah nodded. “Understandable. You’ll give it when you’re ready.”
You closed your eyes and indulged in the pressure he put on your wrists. Your skin ignited under his touch, the same way it had when his fingers had brushed the back of your neck all those weeks ago. He trailed his fingers along your palms and your hands closed reflexively around them.
“Is that something you think you’d be into in real life?” he asked. You could hear the shuffling of movement, but didn’t open your eyes. Your fingers continued to dance together with his.
“Hard to say,” you said. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“What’s this?” he asked, finding the silver ring on your left ring finger.
“Promise ring,” you answered.
“Like an engagement ring?” he asked.
“A symbol of a promise to God to stay pure until marriage.” His hands stilled. “We all got one in school.”
Noah pinched the ring between his two fingers.
“Is that something you’re still committed to?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
You opened your eyes to look at Noah, who had vacated his chair and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you.
Holding eye contact, he began to slide the ring up your finger.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Just let me try something.” He removed the ring, sticking it in his back pocket for safe keeping. “How does that feel?”
“Light.”
The ring was soldi metal. It weighed heavy on your hand and the absence of it wasn’t unwelcome. This was the first time you’d taken it off since first receiving it. It was both taboo and invigorating.
“When did you make that promise?”
“When I was thirteen.”
“Before you even knew what sexuality was?”
You nodded.
“How cruel,” he said, dropping his hands back to your knees and prying them open so he could wedge his body between them. “Binding yourself to a promise you made before you even knew what you were promising.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” you said, trying not to blush. Noah’s body between your legs was a brand new sensation that left you feeling like your entire lower half was engulfed flames.
His greedy hands migrated to the backs of your knees and he tugged you forward on the couch so your faces were mere inches apart. His breath ghosted across your neck.
Your composure began to crack, breath speeding up, and you hoped he couldn’t tell. Saliva pooled on your tongue. You found yourself unable to look anywhere but his bottom lip, wondering how it would taste. How it would feel between your teeth.
Noah had grown bolder with every move you let him get away with. Any moment, he’d move in for the kill.
“You don’t owe your body to anyone,” he said. “Not even to God.”
“God gave me this body,” you countered.
“Yeah. He did. It’s yours to take care of. Bodies have needs.”
“And you think you’re the one to meet those needs, Noah?”
His fingers clutched hungrily at your thighs. “I could be.”
His tongue poked out to wet his lips. He’d been building towards this conclusion the whole evening, and now it was time for him to make his move. Noah was going to kiss you.
Two things happened simultaneously. Noah tugged you closer, and in his movement, the shiny black horns on the top of his head caught the light and drew your eye to them.
Your gut clenched.
Not yet.
“I should—,” you began a second too late. Noah’s mouth collided with your jaw, and as soon as it registered in his mind, he jumped back as if he’d been burned. “I should, um,” you cleared your throat, “go check on Ava. She’s never drank before. Wouldn’t want her doing anything she’d regret.”
He sat back on his heels, hand coming up to wipe at something on the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” His dejection was evident in his voice and the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes.
“See you Saturday?” you asked, standing up.
“Sure,” he said, blinking up at the ceiling. The defeated slump of his shoulders was what fully broke you. With one last look of apology, you unlocked the door and slipped out. Halfway across the yard, you heard a banging sound from the shed, as if something had been kicked.
You rushed inside to find Ava.
_________________
Taglist: @sundamariis
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Also please leave a comment if you've enjoyed this and want me to continue this story. I'd love to hear your feedback.
#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fic#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfiction#Noah Sebastian#noah sebastian smut#sorry Noah Sebastian
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Just a lil idea I thought up. Planning to use it for my upcoming longfic series. Demiromantic Alastor for life, baby. Red text is Alastor, obvs.
The song in question: Annette Hanshaw's "What Wouldn't I Do for That Man" (it's on YouTube, go listen and read along!)
Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @pinkhimecat @moths-and-mantids @neonvehk and other Alastor lovers!
So it's a Friday night, everyone was out partying, but you were staying in your room at the Hazbin Hotel, listening to the radio.
You heard the radio buzz on and you heard Alastor's voice on the radio.
You always loved whenever he came on, you'd listen to the classic tunes he'd play from the 1920s-1930s and you'd relax and let your mind wander.
You hear his voice on the radio, as calm and soothing as ever.
"Good evening, denizens of Hell. I hope you are all enjoying this lovely night. Now I have a special song for all of you lovers and dreamers out there. Annette Hanshaw's 'What Wouldn't I Do for That Man?'. And to that certain someone out there, (you know who you are), this one is for you, my dear."
You didn't hear that last sentence as you let the intro music take your mind to a different place, a place where you were with someone you adored and who adored you just as much, almost like a romance film. You couldn't help but sing along.
"Love was blind to me
Now it's kind to me
Love has opened my eyes
Since it came to me
Life's a game to me
With the sweetest surprise
I never knew how good it was to be
A slave to one who means the world to me"
You stand up, close your eyes and start to dance around the room, your feet moving with the beat and your body swaying to the tune as your voice matched up with the singer's.
"I loved that man from the start
And way down deep in his heart
I know he loves me, Heaven knows why
And when he tells me he can't live without me
What wouldn't I do for that man"
You imagined someone dancing with you, that anonymous stranger in your mind. You could almost feel their hands on you, their arm around your waist.
What you didn't know was....somebody was.
Alastor had let his shadow go through the radio into your room to have a dance with you. It effortlessly guided your steps, avoiding furniture so you can daydream without interruption.
You didn't even notice as you kept dancing and singing.
"He's not an angel or saint
And what's the odds if he ain't
With all his faults I know he'll get by
I'll be so true to him he'll never doubt me
What wouldn't I do for that man"
At the radio station, Alastor's mind was also wandering, wondering what you were up to. He wondered if you could hear the song he chose specifically for you. He hummed along to the tune as he found himself imagining what it would be like to dance with you, to have you in his arms. He could hear your voice singing this very song, a warm and soft voice like the coo of a dove. He smiled to himself, feeling that warm feeling in his chest whenever you came to mind. Usually, he'd be confused by it, but just for this one moment, he would stop fighting and let the feeling flow. For you.
"Oh when he lets me lean my weary head on his shoulder
I close my eyes right there and wish I never grow older"
Back to you, you could smell the faint hint of roses as you continued your dance. It let you sink deeper into your daydream, seeing yourself dancing with the stranger in a rose garden.
"I'll never leave him alone
I'll make his troubles my own
I love that man as nobody can
I'm just no good when his arms are about me
What wouldn't I do for that man
Oh what wouldn't I do for that man"
You felt a hand in your own, an arm around your waist as you swayed to the music. You didn't even notice Alastor's shadow letting you twirl and pulling you into its arms, wrapping them around your waist, your back to its chest. As the dance continued, you continued to sing,
"I'll never leave him alone
I'll make his troubles my own
I love that man better than I do myself
I'm just no good when his arms are about me
What wouldn't do for that man
Oh there's not a thing I wouldn't do for my man"
Just as the song was finished, you could almost feel that stranger's hand delicately hold the back of your head.
Then you felt the sensation of being kissed on the lips in reality, snapping you out of your fantasy, your eyes shooting wide open in surprise.
Then that sensation faded away and you fell onto the antique chaise, your face holding that same stunned expression as you touch your lips.
'What was that...?' You thought to yourself.
Alastor's shadow quickly retreated back to the radio before you could notice. Once it returned to its owner, it received a bonk on the head from Alastor's staff, along with the comment, "Cheeky little thing, aren't you?"
That's all!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#alastor x reader#demiromantic alastor#fanfic idea#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#god what i'd give to make this into an animatic or a comic#but i can't draw alastor worth shit#maybe I can commission someone...
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the fake date plot | part. 8
Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.
Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.
Warning for this chapter: smut
Pairing: James Potter x reader
Word Count: 2.0k
Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)
Heads turned when you and James walked into the Great Hall laughing as you held a bunch of stuff and he held ten times more in his arms than you did. It took a lot of convincing you but James Potter had money and liked to spend it. Your ideas of currency were very different and to him all this money was like spending only five galleons. So you let him get a bunch of stuff for your birthday.
James was pleased with himself. Giving gifts to people made him feel so good inside. He hated receiving a bunch of them though, probably because he could have whatever he wanted without question. When you reached the table you set down everything and started laughing as you took the stuff from James so he could sit down as well.
“Can you believe we both forgot our wands and we were already at Hogsmeade?”
“That’s a lot of stuff,” Sirius said.
“Yeah. I couldn’t get this one to stop so I now have a bunch of stuff. Thank Merlin I need it though.”
Lily cleared her throat. “Are you coming to the party tonight? I mean it’s your birthday after all.”
“I’m coming. No point in staying in my bed alone just because it’s my birthday.” You turned to look at James, pointing at him. “I do not need a new outfit.”
He held his hands up in surrender, claiming that he wasn’t even thinking about making or buying you an outfit. For the rest of Saturday until the party, you didn’t see James at all. He and Sirius were leading quidditch drills in preparation for their upcoming game. Remus and Peter looked up when you entered their dorm. They were getting used to you just showing up. Remus was about to go back to looking at his scrapbooking project when you shoved an invitation in his face.
“To Sir Peter and Sir Remus, the girls of dorm room nine would like to invite you to our getting ready event.”
“Do you do this often?”
You nodded. “Life’s more fun this way.”
Without any hesitation, the two agreed to come with you. The girls’ dorm was arranged like theirs. But the decorations threw them for a loop. Bubbles, music, and a very sweet scent colored the air. When the marauders got ready for a party, the most they’d do is play music. This was basically a whole new world. They were pushed into fancy skincare and a scalding shower with water from the depths of hell.
“Remus, how is your hair dry already? I wish I had your porosity.”
“My what?”
Mary laughed. “Porosity. It’s just your hair type, never mind. Are we all ready to go?”
Your rather large group took your time heading down to the Slytherin dungeons. Even though you guys didn’t get along very well, Gryffindors and Slytherins were always invited to each other’s parties. The bass of the music could be heard from outside the common room. You couldn’t help but laugh at Regulus and Sirius already bickering, both with an empty cup in their hands. They had started making up but obviously it took some time and they were still brothers after all. Friendly bickering was in their dna.
You spotted James on the couch… talking to Xeno. Taking in a deep breath, you went over anyway. Your boyfriend turned his head first, smiling as you came over. The blond boy next to him was slightly stunned. You wanted to adjust but chose not to. The literal climax of your plan was happening tonight and you still wanted it to feel as real as possible. James looked good sitting on the couch and everyone noticed as they snuck glances while doing their own thing. It was the color of a shirt peeking out under the rolled up sleeves of his quidditch jumper and the rips in his jeans. He has to do it on purpose and is aware of what he looks like.
James extended an arm and his hand fell on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Hi, bug.”
You sat on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder trying to ignore the piercing eyes from the boy you actually cared about. But you had to. Looking desperate for Xeno wasn’t the way to win him. James wrapped his arms around you while you held his drink for him, not bothering with getting one for yourself.
“What up?”
“Tired,” you said with a sigh.
“You just got here.”
That seemed to draw the attention of all your friends who were hoping you wouldn’t leave. Even if you were all doing your own thing separately, everyone still needed to be there. James covered your body as you wiggled around trying to get comfortable. Without a second thought, you pulled down the sleeves of his quidditch jumper. He laughed as he realized what you wanted.
“I know but I was up really late and I kind of have a headache now.”
“You do?” James asked in earnest.
“A bit.”
“You don’t have to stay. We can cancel all our plans tonight if you want to get some rest.”
The tone of James’ voice made you look up at him. There was no playfulness in his eyes. He was very serious about everything. You gave him a smile.
“I don’t want to cancel our plans. I’ll just take a nap here and then I’ll feel better.”
“Okay. Accio, headphones.”
James handed them to you. Music was already playing, at a very quiet volume, when you put them on. You figured they must have been connected to an enchanted music player. Adjusting yourself once more, you leaned back against your boyfriend with a smile and closed your eyes. Your friends swooned as you did so. In the middle of a loud and hectic scene, you were peaceful.
James observed his talk with Xeno, trying not to be suspicious. Every so often, he would cast his eyes down to your sleeping form. He was still interested. He wouldn’t keep looking at you if he didn’t care at all.
“Alright guys, I’ll see you back at Gryf,” James said as he got up and picked you up again. “I’m getting my lady to a bed and then we can keep the party going.”
Since the younger kids were coming back to Slytherin from Hogsmeade to start their Halloween party, the older students were going to move to Gryffindor in about twenty minutes. They waved their goodbyes to James and promised to find him right away when the party moved upstairs.
You woke up as James entered the common room and started towards the stairs back to his dorm.
“Why do we always end up like this?”
James looked down. “Hello, bug, how was your nap?”
“Delightful. And I’m now very excited.”
“Excited?”
“Yes.”
James wore a goofy grin as the two of you went inside the dorm. The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth and freshened up. Your favorite songs played while you shaved and James trimmed all his body hair low. You moved to the room without thinking. You both sat in the middle of his bed, now with an awkward silence.
“Should we lay down and just let it happen naturally? No one else uses this enchanted muggle projector so the professor just lets us keep it. There are a good amount of movies here.”
“Okay.”
You and him got comfortable on the bed, cuddling ever so slightly. James’ left hand sat just under your breast as his thumb gently caressed what was beneath it. Your hand snaked down his body and took an experimental squeeze of his pants.
The movie went on without more touches until halfway through. You stiffened up before relaxing at the fingers going under the waistband of your panties. He turned your head to look at him. James watched with lust in his eyes as he watched his fingers pleasure you. It was all of five seconds before your lips crashed onto each other and you moved to the edge of the bed.
Nearly all of the sixth and seventh and dreaded eighth years moved up to the party in Gryffindor. Not seeing James right away, the others decided to go looking. Remus squeaked and everyone else peeked into the crack in the door. James’ hands squeezed your ass before moving slowly up your body until they were underneath the jumper he made you, fingers trying to undo your bra. You both laughed as he struggled a bit. Eventually, the bra was off, leaving you in just your panties and sweater.
“They’re looking. How long do you think before they close the door?” James whispered against your lips.
“I give it two more minutes. Is it just the marauders?”
“I can see Dorcas, Lily, and Xeno’s friends. The plan is going swimmingly.” He leaned back, not caring that the others could hear. “Hey, you know we don’t have to do this. It’s okay.”
You leaned back and that made James move his hands from under your jumper.
“Bug, I’m serious. I will not have sex with you unless you’re one hundred percent sure.”
“I want to. I’m just nervous.”
James chuckled. “Hey, I’m nervous too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Do you not believe me?”
“You always seem so sure of yourself.”
“Being sure of school or quidditch is a lot different from romance or sex. Let’s take it slow, okay?”
“Okay… Can I take your shirt off?”
“Yeah, love. Can I take off yours?”
You nodded. The door slammed followed by someone yelling sorry the moment James started lifting the hem of your sweater. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh. Reassuring James now that everyone was gone that you actually did want this, you continued feeling up and down each other’s upper body. He groped at your boobs, running a thumb over your nipples.
“These are gorgeous.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious. So fuckin gorgeous.”
“James,” you moaned as he took one in his mouth.
“Can I fuck you, love?”
“Absolutely.”
You scurried up onto the bed in the most undignified fashion, making James laugh. He followed suit. James groaned as he started to sink into you, pausing when your nails dug into his skin. “Are you okay?”
“It’s just hurts a bit.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Keep going.”
He went slower, kissing you as he did to try and distract you. When he sunk in all the way, he checked in on you again. James waited for you to open your eyes.
“We good?”
“Yeah, please move.”
Your mouth dropped open as James started pumping. He smiled in satisfaction that you were feeling just as good as him. Maybe he knew what he was doing, just a little. You whimpered his name a little as you grabbed at his biceps.
“You feel so good, Y/N. So warm and fit me just right.”
He also felt warm inside you. He shouted your name before finishing inside you. The sheets stuck to your naked and sweaty bodies as you both tried to come down for your highs. James pulled you closer until you were on top of him.
“That was amazing. I’m really glad we chose to do it with each other.”
You pecked him on the lips. “I really enjoyed it… We should probably put on clothes before everyone comes in.”
“We probably should. They’ll still be in your dorm. Do you want to join them after?”
You nodded your head as you got off the bed, James staring at your naked body. He grabbed your hand and pulled himself out of the sheets. The two of you stood side by side, comfortably naked, as you brushed your teeth and washed your face before getting in the shower together. James added a warming spell to the pile of freshly done laundry so you could have your pick of warm clothes.
“Is it bad that I want to just stay here? Round two maybe.” James’ words were muffled as he put on a t-shirt and a jumper.
You laughed. “Plenty of time for that later, pretty boy. Let’s go see our friends.”
(part 9)
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Show Me
Part 1 of the Urban Flora mini series
Part 2 | Part 3 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist
Summary: At the opera, you meet a mysterious, debonair man who strikes your fancy. Will you risk your reputation to spend some time with him?
Tags: Smut (18+ only), flirting, alcohol consumption, clit play, vaginal fingering, some profanity
Word count: 4.2k
Playlist: Show Me by Alina Baraz
You clenched every muscle in your body to keep from flinching at the abnormally high frequency that made your eardrums thunder. The singer on the stage of the opera theater was undoubtedly talented, and you wouldn’t be the one to question or criticize her performance—that didn’t make the physical impact of her highest note, signaling the number’s musical climax, any duller. And for a moment you thought, so what if you did flinch? Would anybody really notice if you did that?
There were a couple of reasons as to that in your favor. For one thing, you were the senator’s daughter, not the senator herself. If anyone’s pair of eyes went to the box from where you were sitting next to your mother in that theater, they would be looking at your mother, not at you. For another thing, the opera singer, with her powerful performance, held everyone’s attention.
Regardless, the power of the singer’s voice decreased before you could even make up your mind, and applause roared throughout the entire theater. You clapped your gloved hands, smiling softly as the curtain fell on the stage and the lights lit themselves halfway along the theater, signaling an intermission. Beside you, your mother sighed, pleased at the performance, and she reached for her glass of bubbly. You knew your mother opted to remain in the box through the intermissions, often chatting with her maid or the bodyguards, but that wasn’t the case for you. You’d use the intermissions to stretch your legs and drench yourself in the habitat of the opera house, always finding something or someone to catch your attention. The countless stories you’d overheard were revolting, each holding a golden little piece of gossip that would ruin their subjects if they ever got out, and when you mixed them with the exquisite food and drink you could find in the opulent setting, you’d get a recipe for a luxuriously good time.
You’d learned to love the setting. If your mother’s job meant you could have that, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.
Your mother already knew of your habit to go take a walk during intermissions, and by that point, she only had to acknowledge you with a nod before you went off on your own. It was the case that night as well, and you stood up from your chair to make your way out into the halls and walked headed straight for the common room. You made a quick stop at the nearest powder room to make sure your hair and makeup were still in place, and you took your place in front of the full-body mirror and turned on the spot to evaluate your burgundy gown, also making sure it had no problems. Much to your pleasure, it looked flawless on your body, it’s A-line trim favoring your silhouette and flattering you from head to toe, and the lacy outer level gave the gown an extra touch of elegance and regality fit for the place you were in, fit for the daughter of the senator of Coruscant.
After being sure everything was perfectly in place, you finally made your way to your favorite place in the opera house. You undoubtedly turned heads, but that wasn’t why you were there at the moment. You headed straight for the bar and took your usual spot at the left corner, right next to a short, warm-light lamp that illuminated the left side of your body and added a fine gleam to your silhouette when paired with the overhead warm lighting of the common room. You asked the bartender for your usual: they called it an Urban Flora Tonic, containing a balanced blend of gin, grapefruit juice and other citrus extracts, making the drink take a dull blood-orange hue, with a large, thin slice of cucumber rolled up to resemble a rose crowning the drink, resting on top of the thick layer of ice cubes. The glass was large and round, and you had to wrap your entire hand around it to pick it up. As you did, your back turned on the bar and you were facing the rest of the room as you remained seated upon your spot, and you took in the whole sight.
You knew there was juicy gossip coming from at least three points in the room. Homing in on the different conversations wasn’t beyond your abilities, but much to your surprise, you were finding yourself getting distracted. It began the first moment you noticed from the opposite side of the common room there was a pair of observative eyes watching you, unblinking. Their owner was sitting back on a large couch, alone; he was dressed entirely in black save for the thin, opaque cape draped over his left shoulder with a gray brooch securing it. He had gray hair and warm toned skin that complemented the light of the room, and one leg crossed over the other. The lower half of his face was covered by the large glass of a golden beverage—you assumed it could either be whisky or bourbon—but soon enough, he lowered the glass to reveal thin lips and a slim jaw, slightly darkened by a coarse-looking stubble, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the sheer perfection with which his features were all aligned in one attractive face, and then, your focus honed in on the tattoo that outlined his right eye.
He was handsome, no doubt, and in your position, that could be dangerous.
Despite that danger, you smiled at the man, your features drenched with intrigue and allure. You were pleased when you saw him smirk back at you just before lifting his glass one more time to take a large sip. When he did, your smile widened just slightly and then you turned around to face the bar again, angling your body just so your back would arch and your behind would be emphasized by your dress—you knew exactly what you were doing. Daintily, you took a sip from your Urban Flora tonic, and you waited. You took in the sounds and the scents, the flavor of your cocktail, until at last, you felt a presence beside you.
“What’s that you’re drinking, darlin’?”
You angled your body towards your right now, facing the mysterious, attractive man, and you flirtatiously smiled at his voice, velvety and deep and even more enticing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You purred in return.
“It looks colorful,” the man mused. “Aren’t you worried that drink might be a little too hard for such a petite girl?”
He reached his hand out and tapped your chin with his knuckle. In response, you slowly turned your head away from his touch as your shoulders moved closer to your chin, and you smiled.
“Oh, sir,” you said. “Now I know for sure you’re not from around here, otherwise you’d know that a gesture like that would turn us into the subject on everyone’s mouths for the rest of the night.”
“My sincerest apologies,” the man crooned as the hand that had touched your chin went to his chest. He took a seat in the stool next to you, his amber eyes drilling deep into yours.
“Let me guess,” you raised a brow. “New money.”
He chuckled low in his chest, his lips curving into a smirk, and he took another sip from his drink before answering. “No, though I’d like that. Not having to work another day of my life sounds enticing, especially in my line of work.”
You tilted your head for a moment, confused. “Though, I must say, you do look strikingly familiar.”
The man chuckled again. “I have the face of around two million men, though you’ll agree with me, I’m at least twice as handsome as the average.”
You focused on his features and put his words together with what you were reasoning, and you gasped softly when the realization poured itself upon you.
“You’re a soldier,” you stated.
“And you’re smart too,” the man purred at you. “I do love a pretty girl who packs a brain.”
You couldn’t help the obscenely flirty giggle that escaped you as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. You then turned to him again and now you crossed one of your legs over the other underneath your skirt, inching your body closer to him, drawn in by this man’s magnetism.
“And may I ask,” you began, “what’s a clone trooper, a soldier of the Republic, doing around these parts of Coruscant? Not to be rude, of course, it’s just… not where I would expect to find one of you.”
Otherwise, you’d be there more often.
“I recently saved the Supreme Chancellor’s life,” he uttered nonchalantly, seemingly giving a larger priority to his beverage than any accolades that could come his way.
But your eyebrows raised as you remembered your mother telling you about that, and the coverage that was given to that on the news. “That was you?”
“In the flesh, darlin’,” he said as he finished downing his drink. He set the glass on the bar and reached near him to grab an olive on a toothpick, and after he’d eaten the olive, he let the toothpick rest between his lips as he looked your way again. He had to admit, he liked the way you were looking at him, starry-eyed and innocent, astonished, perhaps a bit seduced by the fact that he was a soldier.
“Well,” you said, swirling your drink in your hand, eyes unwaveringly on him. “Thank you for your service.”
The man chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing. All I did was shoot down an assassin from a penthouse five klicks away, timing my blast perfectly so it wouldn’t hit any of the ships transiting through the city. I won’t give a lady such gruesome details, but it did the job.”
You felt a clenching between your legs that was slowly becoming desperate, and your eyes seemed to glow as you listened to him.
“Wow,” you sighed. “That’s amazing…”
He removed the toothpick from between his lips and cast it inside of his empty glass, and when he looked at you again, he was pleased by the fact that you were much closer to him than before.
“And…” your voice had lowered to just above the whisper thanks to the proximity. “What name do you go by?”
He leaned in slightly closer as well, smirking. “You’re looking at it.”
You scanned his features and your gaze settled on the finely traced tattoo over his right eye, and you smirked back at him as you locked eyes with him, grinning seductively.
“Crosshair?” You guessed.
He hummed in satisfaction, his lips now hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good girl, so smart.”
You considered throwing reason out the window and letting the space between your lips close—being the subject of gossip would be worth it for a man as painfully sexy as him. But you were stopped by the bells chiming on the speakers of the opera house, alerting the first call for the continuation of the performance.
Crud. You had forgotten where you were for a moment.
“I assume you have someplace to be?” Crosshair crooned.
You pouted at him. “Yes. Though… I’d love to stay and get acquainted.”
“And would anyone notice your absence?” He asked.
“Yes,” uttered. “And if anyone found out I was with a soldier, it would be ballistic. I’d need to come up with a damn good excuse.”
“Well…” Crosshair smirked. “Having saved the Chancellor’s life comes with some privileges for the night, including my very own box for the night. And, as you may well know, every box…”
“Comes with its own room behind it,” you finished for him.
“A room where we could definitely get acquainted,” he offered. “Would you like to check it out?”
You didn’t have to think about it. It sounded far better than finishing the opera you’d already watched at least twice before, and when your decision was made, you smiled.
“Show me and I’m all yours. Let me just send a comm,” you said, and you quickly brought out your comm device to tell your mother you’d be a little late—those darn acoustics had given you a headache, and your cocktail prevented you from taking conventional medication. When you were done, you put it back in your purse, and you stood up to link your arm in Crosshair’s, and he led the way.
The walk towards his box was a blur, and soon you were inside a room that was nearly identical to the one behind you and your mother’s box except for the presence who occupied it. Crosshair closed the door behind him and watched as your gaze observed the details of the room, from the lamps to the curtain that concealed you and him from the rest of the theater. When your gaze finally fell on him, you walked closer to him only to take a seat on the elegant couch beside you, with your back straight and your legs pressed together, your hands resting on your thighs. Crosshair felt allured by the ladylike posture you’d adopted, and he went to sit next to you, his tall frame hovering over you as he reached his hand out once more for his knuckle to gently brush your chin.
“Can I do this here?” He asked.
You giggled softly. “Yes.”
His hand slowly slid past your jaw and found rest at the nape of your neck, where his fingertips could gently brush with loose strands of your hair. “You’ll have to be very quiet.”
“Mm,” you hummed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
Crosshair inhaled sharply through closed teeth in an attempt to suppress a growl, and you melted at the sight of his half-lidded eyes and his slightly bared teeth, a devastatingly seductive expression for such a strikingly handsome face. You were ready for him to take you and show you his skillset, and by the stars, he was ready to dive in. After an excruciating wait, Crosshair crashed his lips onto yours, breaking the kiss for a few moments to look you in the eyes again.
“Where are my manners?” He mused. “I don’t know your name yet, darlin’.”
You giggled and leaned in close to his ear, whispering your name. Crosshair moaned faintly at the syllables you pronounced, and he leaned in to resume kissing down your jawline, and he muttered your name once before finally finding your lips again and kissing you with a burning hunger. He pushed his body forward, making you lie on the couch, without breaking the kiss, with his hands running all over your torso and your legs over your skirt.
It was when his hands slipped under your skirt that you had to clench every muscle in your body to keep from moaning. His fingertips sliding up your shins and thighs sent delightful sensations all through your body like electricity coursing through your wires. It was as if Crosshair didn’t need to undress you with his hands. He could do that only with his mind. He could speak to you with no words, telling you how great his desire was with every brush of his tongue with yours and the curious, seductive groans that escaped him as he observed the texture and curves of your legs with his fingertips and kneaded your flesh wherever you were most plump.
Almost unconsciously, you had spread your legs as you lay flat on your back on the couch. You wanted him to have all the access, and Crosshair seemed to purr at you when he noticed. He pressed himself harder onto you and his kissing never ceased, and you sunk into the bliss that came with making out with Crosshair as he slid his hands up and down your legs underneath your skirt, with his fingers inching closer to the very inside of your thighs each time. Still, you knew that was going to have to wait—Crosshair definitely didn’t strike you as the kind of man to rush things for the sake of a quick release, and you loved that.
His lips on yours took you higher with each second that passed. The kiss was warm and passionate and tasted of whisky and citrus, and his tongue danced with yours inside your mouth, granting you sweet and fiery friction that deliciously hinted at that sensation on other parts of your body. You succeeded in keeping your moans at bay, whimpering delicately into Crosshair with each tiny wave of sparks sent down your body, and you could tell how much the sound riled him up when he dug his nails into your thighs or your ass in response. Aching for more, you nibbled gently on Crosshair’s lower lip, basking in the low, grumbling moan he struggled to contain at the sensations you caused when you lightly tugged on his lip with your teeth, and you dove in for another kiss only for him to do the same to you. The fire within you had grown so intense that you had to clutch his silver locks, short as they were, giving them a light tug, and by doing that, you caused Crosshair to buck his hips forward in response, letting you feel the hard erection even through the skirt of your dress.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered between kisses, and finally, Crosshair slid his fingers teasingly around your inner thighs and getting dangerously close to your panties. He wrapped his fingers around the delicate panties that shielded your cunt from his touch, and painfully slowly, he slid them down your smooth legs, shooting a glance into your eyes as he did as a final way to ask for your approval.
You nodded at him as you looked him straight in the eyes, and then you pulled him in for another kiss, ready for him to have his way with you.
Crosshair put your panties aside where they wouldn’t be hard to find afterwards, although the idea of you wandering around with no undergarments beneath that exquisite gown made him want to rip it clean off you. But this was still a place of elegance, and he imagined that gown had taken at least some effort for you to put on, and he wouldn’t disrespect that. He smirked to himself at the thought of him having to please you with that dress still on, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
His fingertips weren’t quite at your folds yet, but Crosshair could feel your wetness leaking around your delicate skin. Crosshair took his long middle and index fingers and brushed your folds from bottom to top a few times as he gazed into your eyes wanting to take in your expression. You appeared dazed as you looked back into his eyes, feeling his touch on your warm, wet cunt, your mind soaring with the thoughts of everything you wanted him to do with you. He kept up his current pattern until he felt a switch was in order, and Crosshair rested his two fingertips on the swollen and exposed bud of your clit, and he began to rub slow, steady circles on it. You bit your lip to keep from moaning at the delicious feeling of his fingers sliding effortlessly over your flesh, coated by your wetness, and you gazed into his eyes until you let your head gracefully fall back on the couch’s armrest for support as you allowed yourself to slip into a state of bliss.
Crosshair smirked at the sight of you, delighted and pleased. The circular motion of his fingers on your clit increased its pace, and he pressed only a tad harder into your flesh, but he managed to elevate your pleasure onto a whole other level by doing that. The sweet sensations boiled low in your core and expanded throughout your entire labia, and you felt your body rising to such a heat that you began to sweat. Your breathing hardened against Crosshair’s lips, kissing him with more force the closer you felt yourself approaching ecstasy, and you felt as though you had to cling to him for support even though you were lying back on a couch. You needed that beautiful release, ached for it, felt it closer and closer each second, until at last, that delicious heat overflowed within you and sent you into a spiral of fiery delight.
Your body squirmed in Crosshair’s grip, and you relied on the feeling of Crosshair’s lips on yours to keep you from screaming at such intense pleasure. Your chest pressed up to him with each wave of your orgasm, and Crosshair watched you, smirking seductively at the sight of you so enticing and beautiful, overwhelmed that pleasure that he gave you. You were able to pick up on things that Crosshair briefly muttered under his breath, tender whispers of “Yes” and “Good girl” that made you see white, until your hips gave a sturdy buck forward in a particularly strong wave of pleasure.
Crosshair removed his fingertips from your clit for a moment to let you catch your breath, and your heart sank at the thought of him being done with you. Any dread within you shattered when you felt his touch on your all too sensitive clit once more, but this time, Crosshair slid his fingertips downward and approached your entranced. He teased the little hole only for a few seconds, enough to draw a sweet, delicious little whimper from you which he chuckled at in the sexiest way you could fathom, and then, Crosshair slid a long and slender finger down your entrance. You sucked air in through your teeth and clawed into the couch in another attempt at discretion, for he was showing you once again how talented he was. Crosshair’s finger moved at the perfect pace and curled at the perfect angle, brushing your sensitive spots like it was second nature.
For a moment, you thought that would be it, and you were already close to another release. That was until you felt Crosshair pull his finger out for the briefest second before coming back in with a fuller, deeper sensation; he’d slid two fingers into you now, enhancing every sensation that you felt. Your eyes widened in admiration at him and nervousness at yourself—if he continued, you weren’t sure how loud you would be or if you would be capable of containing yourself. You lifted your head and looked at Crosshair again, gazing into his striking gaze that appeared gentle as he focused solely on you and your pleasure. You let a hand travel up to cup his cheek, wanting to bring him even closer to you than he already was, and this time around, your orgasm crept up on you slowly, silently, taking over your body with expertise to make you crumble even harder.
Your eyes rolled back, and you no longer made sense of the world around you. You then shut your eyes hard and embraced Crosshair, pressing him strongly onto you, rocking your hips forward and back for even more friction that engulfed you in sparks. All you could make a remote thought of was how much this man amazed you, and how much no man would probably ever live up to his standard. The waves of your pleasure wore on as Crosshair persisted, and you felt yourself on the verge of blacking out, when Crosshair retrieved his hand from you and helped you gently up to sitting on the couch.
It took you a few minutes to recover, which Crosshair noticed, chuckling softly at how endearing you were post lovemaking. He’d gotten up to do something you didn’t quite make sense of, but you did notice when he went and sat next to you, with one hand resting softly at your knee while the other handed you back your panties.
You looked over at him, still dazed, though a bit confused. “What about you?”
Crosshair chuckled. “I’ll survive. We should probably return to where we should be. It might be considered rude if I’m not at the seat I was offered.”
“Oh, right,” you said, with his previous statement finishing the effort of bringing you back to reality. You eyed him again, this time more in the spirit of joking, but only halfway. “Are you sure? I could suck you into oblivion in under five minutes, the opera’s still gonna last longer than that.”
Crosshair laughed again. “Enticing, but no. Go on, darlin’.”
With a smile, you put your panties back on and hesitated before leaving the room, considering for a moment finishing the opera next to him. You’d occupy the seat on the left and take in the performance once more, enjoying the company far more than whatever was going on the stage, sneaking occasional looks at him only to find out he was already looking at you, perhaps reaching for his hand to hold it throughout the remainder of a performance
The implications were astonishingly scandalous, and you’d never hear the end of it. Neither of you would. Besides, for all you knew, what had just happened had only been a fling, regardless of how much you were feeling at the moment.
Your eyes met his piercing gaze for one final time before you ran out of his room, checking the surroundings for any bystanders before you made your way down the opulent halls. Your box was just a couple of stories above Crosshair’s, and it didn’t take you long to arrive. When you did, you held your hand over your head, imitating pain, but you gave her a reassuring smile.
Your mother asked no questions, and she returned your smile briefly before focusing her attention on the soloist down on the stage once more. You looked around at the people watching the performance, most of them focused on the stage, a few of them distracted, and a couple even asleep. You then understood that no one had seen you, and a wave of triumph showered itself over you.
You probably would have liked it better if you knew there was a chance for the night’s events to repeat themselves, but given your position, that would be begging for trouble. The ramifications could be wide, and you told yourself that again and again every single time you felt the longing to return to that man’s embrace.
You would have to make do without him.
Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging to support me!
Next chapter -> (coming May 31st!)
#moonstrider writes#uf series#tbb crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair smut#crosshair smut#tbb crosshair#tbb smut#the bad batch smut#tbb fanfic#the bad batch fanfic#tbb crosshair x you#crosshair x you
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i know i sent an ask the other day but i wanna throw another on the table: ed with a goofball avatar s/o? someone who tries to enjoy the time they have in the here and now, ESPECIALLY after what happened in the suval'hal tournament? (this may or may not be related to my avatar but i feel like this could easily apply to a lot of avatars as a whole)
silly avatar getting cranked to the max :) and im slowly loving ed as much as i lobe bosch. oh no. also it's actually really hard to write a goofball avatar for some reason, so hopefully i did my fellow clowns some justice.
Ed could always hear you before he actually sees you.
He's not used to people with an overly loud personality like yours.
Not to say it was a bad thing.
But he's definitely dropped his phone a couple of times because you shouted his name across the station for everyone to hear.
Hey, pipe it down. Are you trying to attract attention to him?
You would also attempt to get him to do the most random activities he's ever heard.
Oh, you know a place with a nice view overlooking the city? Cool.
Wait, the place is crawling with security roombas and fighting refrigerators?
What the hell does that even mean?
And when he's with you, Ed allows himself to get dragged to wherever you felt like going that day,
A Burger joint? The Scrapyard? Haggar Stadium? It didn't matter where you two were, you always knew a place.
Other times you would say something so outlandish, that he would just have to tune you out.
You once stopped mid-training because you had to flip your Crocs into 'sports mode'. Whatever the hell that meant.
So he knocked your ass on the floor for not taking him seriously.
Or when you called early in the morning to ask him meaningless questions at ungodly hours.
Who the hell was calling him this time? Ed thought.
He begrudgingly picked up his phone without checking the caller ID.
"What?"
"Would you love me if I was a worm?"
And Ed hung up on you.
He'll deal with you later.
When you're both out and about, you try to get him to do things he normally wouldn't consider, albeit with some pushback from him.
Like when you wanted to dance with him in Beat Square because a jazz band was playing.
Ed watched them with mild interest before you grabbed him.
“Come on. Let's Dance!" You said, pulling him towards the open space where other people were mingling.
"I don’t dance.” He narrowed his eyes at you.
And you rolled yours playfully, not letting go of his hands. “Aw, don't be like that, It’ll be fun."
Ed tried to relax and mirror your movements.
He was stiff and awkward for the most part, but he was there with you on the dance floor. And that was a win in your books.
He would've never done this if you were some rando asking for his hand, so count yourself lucky.
As the music came to an end, you pulled Ed close, wrapping your arms around him. “See? I told you it would be fun.” You said, forehead resting against his.
“Yeah. You were right, I guess.” he hummed. “It wasn't that bad.”
“I’m always right.” You grinned, leaning in to give him a quick peck.
He scoffed, under his breath. “Let’s not go that far.”
Because of your outgoing/goofy nature, his friends found you endearing and a joy to be around.
He's actually somewhat relieved they did because that meant the members of his group who were still hesitant around other people were gradually opening up.
But of course, you did have some run-ins with them from time to time that were...less than ideal.
"Aw, Look Ed. I think Kiki likes me," you cooed, gently stroking the lion tamarin who was leaning into your touch. Her tiny face and fluffy body had you completely smitten.
"Uh-huh." He said, glancing down at the little thing. He knew you were too focused on how cute Kiki was to notice that she was slowly inching closer to your food.
It wasn't until she nabbed the bread off your burger that you realized what she was up to.
"That rat. She stole my buns!" You shouted, jumping out of your chair to chase her.
Ed leaned against one of the walls, watching the whole thing unfold, as the nimble thief jumped from one piece of furniture to the next, with you following suit.
'This might take a while,' he thought, popping one of the pickles he took from your burger into his mouth.
After a few minutes, you returned, huffing and puffing with the half-eaten bun in your hands. Tiny scratches ran up your arm from the brief struggle.
"Have fun?" he said with amusement.
"Not at all, my food's probably cold by now," you groan, dropping the bun back on the table. "Who knew something so small could be so mischievous."
"Don't take it personally. But consider yourself lucky you even got a portion of it back." He said as the tamarin in question hopped on his shoulder, cheeks still puffy from munching down on the stolen bread.
You huffed sadly, flopping the bun back on your sandwich as you slumped down on your chair. "Well, at least I could finally eat."
"Wait," You picked the bun back up. "Where the hell are my pickles!?"
Although he doesn't admit it often, he's glad you see the positives in unfortunate situations.
Because there are times when he just has shitty days and nothing could make him feel better.
So he could probably learn a thing or two from you.
But if there are moments when you're not feeling the best, he'll know.
Even if you try to hide it.
Hey, are you really not gonna say anything and make him do all the talking?
He's used to you being the one to fill in the void with your voice.
So it feels a bit empty to not hear it after a while.
In those instances, Ed would find ways to make you feel better.
Albeit your humor may be different from his.
Hey, didn't you think it was funny when that guy spit his tooth out after you punched him?
Or how about when that thug fell to his knees saying how sorry he was for getting the jump on you?
No, you actually didn't find either of those moments funny.
But, seeing him go to this length did genuinely make you smile, so you appreciated every second of it.
However, if you were having a rough day, there's no shame in admitting it, especially to Ed.
He gets it, so you don't need to put on a facade in front of him.
You can enjoy the rest of the day in silence with him if that's what you want.
Speaking about you, you also enjoyed giving him gifts that range from 'useful' to 'What the hell did you just give me?'.
"Isn't it cute?"
"It's something." Ed said, examining the green plushie with a dopey smile.
But you could sense his indifference to it.
"I mean, if you don't like it, I can always take it back." You replied, reaching over to grab it.
But before you could, Ed pulled it closer to him. "Hey, back off. It's mine." he said in an oddly possessive tone, which made you laugh.
"Alright, tough guy. It's all yours. I'm just glad you like it."
To an extent, you do ease his nerves and make him forget about the horrors he's seen.
Yeah, he gets on your case for having such a carefree attitude all the time. But that's because you're the ideal embodiment of what his life could've been like if he wasn't connected to any of this Shadaloo biz.
Ed also never got why you always insisted on doing things in the moment rather than putting it off for later.
You don't need to drop everything you're doing just because you had a moment of clarity.
If you have time later, just do it later.
But he could understand to an extent where you were coming from.
Because sometimes, there is no such thing as later in this line of work.
#sf6#sf6 ed#sf6 ed smut#ed smut#ed#street fighter#street fighter smut#street fighter 6#street fighter 6 smut#street fighter x reader#street fighter 6 x reader#ed x reader#ed x avatar#street fighter ed x reader#street fighter ed
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hey my friends and i are watching the bnha musical where kurogiri is basically shiggy's vape pen but with glowing eyes (in real he's a smoke machine we think) and we were wondering what flavour vape he is? i thought you would know the answer to this.
ok so first of all, SO glad you came to me with this. this is so important. initially, my first impulse was to say OBVIOUSLY since he is purble, he must taste like grape. but then i was like no that's too obvious. too simple. perhaps he is blackberry. or funnier, watermelon breeze. or whatever. but I can't choose there's so many hilarious flavors he could be. my man is the reanimated corpse of a seventeen year old who is in charge of a bunch of unhinged 20 somethings, perhaps he is whatever Slapple Menthol™ must be. or, considering this is shiggy smoking this man, perhaps he is a clove situation: no tobacco, all spice (all the sigma males smoke clove.) eventually, defeated, i had to consult my crack team of scientists (goof chat) on this matter and it was very much a consensus:
he purble. so he taste like
#excellent question i really needed like a week of time to think on this one#also i was big out of town on business and pulling very long hours about it#so i couldnt dedicate the mental energy that i thought this deserved#evil asks#kurogiri#when i was a kid my friends and i would chew up the bubble tape over time#and store the used chewing gum back in the case for later#in retrospect. disgusting#but also: are we truly free if we cannot indulge in some pre chewed gum our past selves have saved for a rainy day#also where are you watching the musical WHAT does kurogiri look like#hang on gotta check smth#ok absolutely cannot find him but i believe you and i simply cant look at the musical directly or else it will sear my retinas so#ill wait for someone to geek about the character design and post gifsets on tumblr somewhere#anyway#i think it would be fun to be a smoke machine#love the implication that the smoke machine js playing a character. that man* is an actór#*box fan with dry ice near it
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uquiz that's like "what are you using to run away" and the results are "horse" "motorcycle" "busted ass pickup truck" "old car" "bike" and "only what you can carry on your back"
#and then it drags you to hell and back with the results#i would make it but i have no clue what the questions would be and words are hard#one of the questions would be ''what are you using to play music'' and the answers are#cd official album / cd mixtape / cassette / ipod/mp3 / bluetooth / nothing / just singing
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DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.
~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~
The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base.
John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?
Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously.
Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast.
Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really?
Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price.
Phantom: Deal.
What is the price?
John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.
The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood.
Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy.
Danny: You and I have a contract~
Red Hood: All right, all right.
Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.
Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience.
Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts?
Batman: He…what?!
~~~~~~~
Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous!
Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~
Dick: NoOOoo
~~~~~~
Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John.
Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that.
Jason: What?
Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he..
Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.
Danny: Sorry :(
Jason: No. Say it again.
~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~
Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent.
Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool.
Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and..
Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you?
Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.
So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.
He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice.
Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies?
Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes?
Jason: Nay
Danny: But why? You want something else?
Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange.
Danny: I can bring sweets if you want.
Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.
~~~~
Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself.
Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions.
Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.
Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum.
Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want?
Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday.
Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services.
Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.
~~~~~~
Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk.
Danny: All right?
Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?!
Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now.
Jason. Still Todd. And what about that?
Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you.
Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract.
me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend.
Danny: And I am!
~~~~~~
Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night?
Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir.
Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea.
Danny:...Jason?
Jason: N-no.
Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?!
Jason: Cosplay.
Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye.
Jason: fu%&c$#u
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You can tell the exact mental state of Dick Grayson based on the music he plays in the car
His entire family monitors his listening habits, and if it's anything but things from the list of genres and artists that Dick normally likes while provably mentally stable, they get concerned.
Tim, texting the group chat without Dick in it: Hey, guys, just needed to let y'all know that Dick picked me up today, and he put on an NF song in the car.
Barbara: Fuck, he's depressed.
Steph: Isn't he always?
Barbara: No, like--more than usual.
-
A week later.
Jason: Y'all, I'm with him rn and he's blasting S&M in the training room. One of you bitches--and I will find out who--triggered some body image issues, and now he's sexualizing himself to cope.
Tim: Did one of you guys call him ugly or smth???
Steph: I would never. I'm not a mean person, unlike you guys.
Damian: Why did you immediately assume it was one of us?
Jason: Because y'all are terrible people.
Tim: I'm not taking this from a literal gang leader.
Jason: But I admit, that is a bit of a jump on my part. It could've been any of Dick's trash friends that he, for some reason, keeps around, so that's on me.
Cass: Monitor him so he doesn't do anything drastic.
Barbara: Let me know if he starts compulsively thinking about becoming a stripper.
Jason: If that happens, there's no saving him.
-
After Dick returns from Spyral.
Duke: Now this just might be me, but I don't think I ever pegged Dick as a metalhead before he went off to work for Spyral.
Tim: Dear god.
Tim: Don't tell me he's listening to SOAD.
Duke: What even is that.
Jason: System of a Down
Duke: Oh, yeah, it's that.
Tim: NOOOOOOO
Duke: What does that mean???
Barbara: He's self-destructive.
Steph: Isn't he normally?
Barbara: No, like--I mean yes, but more explosively.
Jason: His main goal is to blow up...
Barbara: Don't.
Steph: aND THEN ACT LIKE HE DON'T KNOW NOBODY
Jason: HAH HAH HAH HAH
Barbara: This is serious.
-
Steph: He's listening to vocaloid. That's....so odd??? @Damian did you have anything to do with this?
Tim: oh my god
Damian: The answer to this question is of high importance: what song is it?
Steph: Do you think I can speak Japanese??
Damian: Ask.
Steph: omg fine.
Steph: He says it's "Assassin Princess" by Mitchie M.
Tim: Hold on lemme listen to this shit
Damian: It's a good song.
Jason: Okay, but what does that tell us?
Damian: It's not a song I ever played for him.
Jason: So you're telling me he's listening to vocaloid independent of you?
Damian: It would appear so.
Jason: Oh, that's bad.
Tim: The song's about a spy and her partner murdering her ex-boyfriend who betrayed her.
Steph: He's feeling vengeful.
Jason: Oh, that's really bad.
-
Cass: He's playing One Direction.
Barbara: Honestly?? Chances are, he's fine.
Duke: Agreed. He's playing "What Makes You Beautiful", so I doubt it's anything.
Duke: Now if he starts playing shit from their solo careers, we have a problem.
#batman#batfam#batfam shenanigans#tim drake#batfamily#bat family#dick grayson#richard grayson#jason todd#nightwing#red hood#red robin#robin dc#dc robin#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#cassandra cain#cass cain#black bat#duke thomas#cassandra wayne#oracle#batgirl#batkids#batbros#batboys#damian al ghul#damian wayne al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#ev-arrested
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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?
pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate)
summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world)
content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc)
wc: 1.4k
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.
"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.
"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.
"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,
"What is your favorite position?"
Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.
"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"
"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.
"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"
♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.
Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.
"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.
"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'
"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.
"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."
"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.
"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.
-----
You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.
When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.
He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.
♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.
"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.
"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."
That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.
It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.
"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.
"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.
"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.
Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.
"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.
"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.
"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.
The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.
"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.
"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.
"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.
"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."
♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.
A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.
Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.
The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.
"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.
"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.
"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"
Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."
More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.
divider: @/plutism
#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒#✩ jjk post#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto smut#choso x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut
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They start kissing on stage as a joke.
The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."
Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."
"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.
"I don't know, other bands do it!"
Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.
Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.
They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.
Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.
The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.
He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.
But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.
They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.
The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.
He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.
They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.
They don't talk about it.
Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.
A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.
Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.
"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.
He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"
His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.
"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"
"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"
Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."
Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.
"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."
And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--
"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.
Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."
He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."
Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"
"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.
"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."
Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."
Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.
It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.
Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."
Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"
"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.
"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."
Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#bandmates steve and eddie#musician au#fluff#angst#eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington#oblivious steve harrington#eventual mutual pining#kissing on stage#it's a joke. until it isn't#this is because boygenius won a bunch of grammys#all award shows are fake and the grammys are the most fake of all but still#if the tour bus is rockin' etc etc etc#grey goose got your girl feeling loose
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My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]
ID in ALT
More thoughts under the cut
So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.
This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.
Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:
The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.
When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.
So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.
I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.
The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.
I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.
I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.
So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.
I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.
On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.
So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!
#Bluey#bluey the sign#meme#Bluey heeler#rad heeler#bandit heeler#chilli heeler#baby race#my ramblings#my rambles#frisky heeler#brandy cattle#spoilers#bluey the sign spoilers#bluey spoilers
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FIRST HIT
pairing: soft!chris x reader
summary: chris comes over to smoke, deciding he wanted his first time to be with you. although things take a slight turn.
warnings: SMUT, suggestive comments, use of weed, fingering, pet names, dirty talk, breeding kink (if you squint), praising
word count: 2440
author's note: i thought about this when i was getting ready to go to sleep ngl
you smiled down at your phone, excited and filled with joy that chris wanted you to be the person he smoked with for the first time.
him and his brothers were completely sober, had been since you met them basically when they first moved to LA. they didn't drink, didn't smoke, and didn't do drugs, so this was a huge step for him.
you slipped on your slides, pulling a 'fresh love' hoodie over your head and down your torso. you grabbed your car keys from the top of your vanity, leaving your bedroom and going out your front door.
you got in the car, setting your bluetooth up to play music. the beat of paris by $suicideboy$ rang through your car speakers.
you turned your head, looking out your back mirror before backing out of your spot.
you turned the wheel, beginning the drive to your destination.
it was a quick one, luckily, so you didn't have to deal with the traffic that the city was always experiencing.
you pulled up in the driveway of the house, putting your car in park and looking at your phone sending chris a 'here' message.
thirty seconds go by before he's coming out of the house, his hair falling in front of his eyes. he looked hot, you'd never deny it, but he was your best friend and you had to control yourself.
he walked up to the passenger side opening the door and sliding in, "always the passenger princess aren't you," you chirped mockingly, starting your car.
"suck my dick," chris mumbled playfully rolling his eyes. "mhm," you hummed, "what's this about you wanting to smoke?" you ask, glancing at him before your eyes go back to the road.
"oh uh," he says, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. "i don't know, just felt like it," he says. "so," he continues, "i was hoping you'd be the person who showed me."
you nodded, "i'd be honored christopher," you beam. chris adjusts himself in the seat as you drive, the faint sound of music playing in the background.
"what strain is it?" you ask, "something called peanut butter crunch," he stated, grabbing his bag. he started digging around, "homie said it was a hybrid," he added.
"ooh," you purred, "i've been dying to try that," you smiled. he chuckled, "yeah, well, looks like i'm gonna pop your cherry," he joked. you let out a fake laugh, shaking your head.
"tha- okay chris," you said, rolling your eyes. he snickered, pulling a few buds out of his bag. he looked down at them, turning his head and looking out the window.
he had a look of regret on his face, like he was questioning himself if he was making the right decision. "don't force yourself," you mumble, glancing at him.
"what?" he asks, looking back at you. "to smoke, you don't have to if you really don't want to," you say. he lets out a sigh, "no i wanna do this," he said, "just a little nervous," he continued.
"understandable i suppose," you shrug, pulling into your driveway. you park the car, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out.
chris follows behind, following you inside and up to your room.
you shut the door, going to your desk and pulling out your grinder, as well as a few papers. you sat them down on your desk, then turning to the drawers.
you open one, looking for the lighter that you knew was in there. you found it, picking it up and turning around.
"give," you say, holding your hand out. chris' eyes looked at your hands, more specifically the fresh manicure that sat neatly on your fingernails.
he had always liked your hands, the way you painted your nails and the way the rings you'd wear would sit perfectly.
chris' lips parted slightly, his tongue running across the bottom one. his eyes fluttered back up to yours, giving you the bud.
you looked down, placing the paper down. you started grinding the weed up, watching the way it would fall out of the grinder and onto the paper.
you set the grinder down, looking up and noticing chris' eyes were trained on your hands, watching every movement carefully.
you decided to test something, though you had to do it anyway. you brought the joint up to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick at the paper.
you watched as chris' eyes fell to your tongue, watching it glide across the paper and wetting it. his tongue poked out slightly, mimicking your own actions.
you rolled it back up, placing it down. "all done," you chirped, turning around to grab the lighter.
you went over to your bed, sitting down and crossing your legs. chris followed, sitting down across from you.
you lit the joint, inhaling and feeling the smoke fill your lungs. you looked at him as you blew it out, a cloud forming around you.
"try," you say, holding the joint out to him. he took it hesitantly, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking in. his body shook a bit as he began coughing.
"woah," he choked out, handing the joint back. you laughed, bringing the joint back to your mouth and taking another hit.
he stopped coughing, his eyes meeting yours.
you blew the smoke out, your eyes not moving from his. the air felt thick, like it was filled with something.
he was staring, the only sound in the room was his breathing. "can we try something?" he mumbled, "i saw cj and his girl do it at his party the other night," he continued.
"uh," you started, unsure of what to say. "sure," you replied, taking the joint back from his hands.
"what is it?" you ask. he scooted closer to you, his thighs brushing against yours. his hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you to his lap. you hovered over his clothed crotch area as he held onto your hips.
"said it was called shot gunning or somethin'" he said. you nodded, bringing the joint up to your lips and inhaling. you lowered your lips down to his, opening them and blowing the smoke into his mouth.
his lips latched onto yours, a hand going up to your face and the other resting on your hip. his fingers brushed the skin on your stomach, sending goosebumps up your back.
he kissed you softly, his tongue poking out and sliding along your bottom lip. you parted them, giving him access to explore your mouth.
his tongue darted inside, his fingers pushing the hem of your shirt up slightly, guiding your hips down. you ground your hips down on his clothed bulge, his lips parting and letting a small moan leave his throat.
his lips parted from yours, a string of saliva connecting your lips. he licked his lips, looking at you with big eyes.
"you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair. he nodded, leaning his head down and resting it on your chest.
you rubbed his back, his fingers tracing shapes into the skin of your stomach. "i-i wanna try something else," he mumbled, his voice muffled from the fact that his head was still pressed into your chest.
"alright," you say, a soft smile on your lips. he pulled away, his cheeks red and his pupils blown. he leaned forward, his lips latching onto yours again.
you kissed him back, your eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his hand tanging in your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when he tugged your head back to expose your neck.
he started kissing along the sensitive skin, his tongue darting out and running across the warm flesh. you grinded down on him again, his hand still on your hips.
you could feel his erection, a smirk pulling on your lips. he pulled away from your neck, his hands going to the hem of your sweater and tugging it over your head.
you threw it somewhere in the room, not bothering to pay attention. his hands went to your waist, his fingers trailing up and down the soft flesh.
"c-can i?" he mumbled, his voice a whisper. "of course," you breathed out, watching as his hands trailed up your back and reached to undo the clasp of your bra.
he unclipped it, sliding the straps down your shoulders and pulling the garment off. you tossed it, his eyes trailing down to your breasts.
you were average, not too big or small, but enough to fill his hands. his lips attached to your collarbone, leaving dark marks.
"chris," you whined, his mouth moving down and attaching itself to your nipple. his tongue swirled around the bud, his hand coming up and pinching the other one.
his free hand trailed down, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your sweats.
"can i?" he asked again, looking up at you with puppy eyes. "please," you whined, feeling his fingers slip under the waistband and into your underwear.
"fuck," he whispered, his fingers touching your soaked pussy. "all this for me?" he asked, looking at you with lustful eyes.
you nodded, bucking your hips into his touch. he took that as a signal, his fingers sliding along your wetness.
you whimpered, feeling his middle finger dip into your hole. his palm was rubbing against your clit, the sensation causing you to shake.
"god you're so tight," he moaned, his finger curling up and brushing against the spongy spot inside you. his lips latched onto your nipple again, his fingers working on getting you off.
"chris, oh my god," you whined, a knot starting to form in your stomach. he inserted another finger, the digits pumping in and out of your tight hole.
"please, please, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. "that's it," he encouraged, his lips kissing along your neck.
"wanna see you come, wanna see you squirt all over my fingers," he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.
"yes, yes, yes," you chanted, throwing your head back as his fingers picked up the pace. the knot in your stomach tightened, a loud moan leaving your mouth as his fingers curled up.
your orgasm hit you hard, a rush of liquid spurting out of your hole and drenching his fingers.
"good girl," he cooed, pulling his fingers out and sucking them into his mouth.
"fuck," you whispered, watching as he cleaned his fingers. he leaned forward, capturing your lips and letting you taste yourself.
"do you want me to-"
"no," chris interrupted, "just let me take care of you," he said, sliding your sweats and underwear down to the bend of your knees, his fingers reaching down and undoing the tie on his sweats.
you helped him, his hand slipping down into his underwear and pulling his dick out.
you licked your lips, staring down at the member in front of you. it was thick, not as long as you expected, but it was perfect.
a bead of precum dripped down the tip, chris' hand wrapping around it and jerking it slowly.
"can i," he started, looking up at you. you nodded, letting him guide you down so his cock was lined up with your pussy.
"tell me if i hurt you," he says, pressing the tip up against your entrance. you nodded, watching him slowly lower you down.
you winced at the slight sting, his hands rubbing the skin of your thighs. he pushed you down, sheathing his entire length inside you.
"fuck, fuck," you gasped, the pain subsiding and pleasure taking over. chris' lips were parted, a moan falling from his lips.
"so tight," he moaned, "fuck, gonna break my dick off," he joked, a giggle leaving his lips.
you let out a small laugh, the noise turning into a moan when he thrust up into you.
"shit, chris," you whimpered, his dick brushing up against that sweet spot almost immediately.
his hands slid down to your ass gripping the flesh, his nails digging into the skin as he lifted you up and pulled you back down.
you let out a string of moans, your hips bucking up into him as he bounced you up and down on his cock.
"god you look so pretty," he groaned, his thumb reaching up and brushing the bundle of nerves above where you were connected.
your head fell back, your eyes shutting and your mouth open in a silent moan.
chris was groaning, his hips meeting yours as you slammed down onto him.
"gonna cum," you moaned, "inside, please, cum inside," you pleaded. "fuck, you want me to breed you? you want me to make a mess inside you?" he grunted, his nails digging further into the flesh of your ass.
"yeah, yeah, want it, want it so bad," you cried, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"c'mon baby, cum for me," chris encouraged, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit.
your orgasm washed over you, a rush of warmth flooding the lower part of your stomach.
chris moaned, his grip on your hips getting tighter as he pounded up into you.
"yes, yes, fuck," you whimpered, your body going limp. chris flipped you over, pounding his hips into yours.
your head fell back onto the mattress, a series of gasps and whines leaving your mouth.
"so fucking tight," chris moaned, watching your eyes roll back. it gave him a complex knowing he was the one making you feel like this.
"c'mon chrissy, wanna feel you," you encouraged, your nails digging into his shoulder blades.
his eyes rolled back, a string of curse words falling from his lips. his hips stuttered, a groan leaving his mouth as he spilled his seed inside you.
he thrusted a few more times, making sure he was empty.
"shit," he whispered, his hand cupping your face.
"hey," he says, looking into your eyes. "hi," you giggle, reaching up and grabbing his face.
"can i kiss you?" he asks, his lips just barely ghosting yours. you nodded, letting him capture your lips in a soft, yet passionate, kiss.
"i like you," he mumbles, pulling away and looking at you. "well, no shit sherlock," you joked, laughing.
"no," chris sighed, his hand running through his hair. "i mean, like, i want you," he said, his words not making sense.
"like, i want to be your boyfriend," he clarified, "want you to be my girl," he continued.
you smiled, reaching up and running your thumb over his cheekbone. "christopher," you start, his eyes widening, "i want you to be my boyfriend," you finish.
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