#i would need to own a guitar first
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I would love to one day learn the guitar actually
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okay, but where's my steddie AU where steve wants to learn to play guitar to impress a girl he's infatuated with and he remembers that munson kid was always hanging up posters for his weird band at school, so he hikes out to eddie's usual dealing spot behind the track and asks (with far less groveling than he really should have) if eddie will teach him how to play, and obviously eddie says no because why would he want to help king steve, but of course, steve offers to pay him, $20 a week, and well, that's the kind of get-the-hell-out-of-this-shithole-town cash eddie really can't afford to refuse, so fine, he'll teach steve to play and they'll spend inordinate amounts of time together tucked away in eddie's room and they'll start to see that they have more in common than they thought and that they kind of had each other all wrong, and eddie will put his hand over steve's to help him get the placement for a tricky chord and it totally won't awaken anything in either of them?? where is it??
edit: i started writing it
#steve x eddie#steddie#stranger things#someone tell me this has already been written because i need it. please.#bonus points if steve shows up to the first practice session empty-handed#and eddie nearly calls the whole thing off when he has the Audacity to grab at eddie's sweetheart as if eddie'd ever let him play her#and he doesn't even teach steve anything that day because rule number one get your own fucking guitar and keep your mitts off mine#but by the end when eddie is deep deep deep in love and it's time to send steve off to woo this lucky girl of his#he offers to let steve take his sweetheart because she's guaranteed to make him look ten times hotter and cooler#and he'll have no trouble sweeping his girl off her feet and maybe eddie's breaking his own heart but it's fine—as long as steve's happy#except steve doesn't seem nearly as happy as eddie thought he would be#he seems sad actually and eddie kind of hates that so he starts to make some lame joke about how steve should be honored#because eddie wouldn't lend his baby out to just anyone and that gets steve to crack half a smile#but then he puts the guitar down on eddie's bed (with all due gentle reverence) walks over takes eddie's face in his hands and kisses him#kisses him like he's been dying to do it for weeks. because he has#because somewhere along the line it stopped being about wanting to impress a girl and started being about wanting to be with eddie#it started being screwing up on purpose so that eddie would grab his hands and show him how it's supposed to be done#and forgetting about lessons entirely and just sitting around and listening to eddie talk or just watching him play#because somewhere along the line steve fell out of infatuation and into love with the last person he ever expected....#anyway idk where i'm going with this
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one of these days i need to make a kids in the hall iceberg based on all the increasingly obscure side projects/behind-the-scenes info i've acquired over the past few months
#the only thing stopping me is all the super obscure stuff is scott related bc i don't know as many obscure things for the others#but anyway i'm currently listening to ''accidentally cool'' which would definitely be a deeper level#(it's a rock band kevin played guitar in. also i befriended the lead singer her name's tiffany)#fruit blog would also ABSOLUTELY be a super deep level#i think the most obscure one on the list might be scottland (tv show)??? bc even i can't find much info on it???#like. it might genuinely be a piece of completely lost media which is why i NEED someone to explain it to me#scottland was a tv show scott made that was supposed to be the first internet sitcom#he made it in 1999 so quality streaming video was decades away. youtube definitely wasn't a thing it was his own website#the premise for it sounds completely bizarre#and i can only find one article mentioning its existence and 2 other places online where there's any record of its existence#(both with no major additional details)#the only image we have from scottland is an image of buddy cole dressed in cartoony kings robes#scottland fucking haunts me. most buddy cole things even if i can't find them online i have reason to believe someone out there has footage#or if not there's at least reviews of the live shows and like. solid records they happened.#some of these projects were even cancelled or on websites that no longer exist. but they're been referenced since#but scottland. scottland has only EVER been written about in one 1999 article#and all other records of its existence are COMPLETELY MISSING
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Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...
Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3
Birds of a Feather
Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man
• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room
• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)
• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention
• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other
• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up
• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy
• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon
• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere
• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!
• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane
• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)
• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though
• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs
• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”
• He’s fucking done for
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you
• Mortifying is an understatement
• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant
• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing
• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag
• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you
• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!
• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall
• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!
• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”
• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”
• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?
• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it
• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough
• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels
• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner
• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!
• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!
• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!
• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!
• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it
• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his
• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”
• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”
• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanons#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar headcanon#lucifer morningstar imagine#hazbin hotel adam headcanon#hazbin hotel adam imagine#hazbin hotel adam x reader#lute headcanon#lute imagine#lute x reader
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. boothill spending a nice, sunny day on the ranch with his family !
tags. pre-cyborg!boothill x wife!female reader. fluff, one tiny hint of angst. sfw. daughter is adopted. based on boothill’s lore. reader gets called ‘mama/momma’. i shed a tear writing this
“aye, yer getting good, kiddo.” boothill grins as he humors his daughter. he’s sitting on a patch of grass underneath an old tree, with his little girl sitting on his lap. his stetson hat lays low on his head, a piece of straw grass between his teeth.
days like these are the reason why he cherishes life. peaceful days where his wife and kid are the only ones surrounding him. home is where he belongs; with his daughter playing the tiny guitar he made her from scratch.
well—more like she’s beating it up.
“dada! dada!” she squeals as she harshly pats the strings, creating an unsatisfactory sound that would make anyone in the vicinity cringe. though, to boothill the sound is a sign of life. of his beloved child being carefree and happy.
the cowboy runs his fingers through the girl’s locks, admiring the little bundle of joy that’s been bestowed upon him. ever since he took her in, life’s been nothing but joyful. “adorable, ain’t ya?” boothill mumbles to no one in particular.
a warm breeze lifts his bangs ever so slightly, revealing those unique eyes of his. they’re filled with nothing but admiration for his daughter. perhaps also a hint of bittersweet warmth.
she’s growing up so fast.
“honey, dinner’s ready!” your voice makes both boothill and the child look up. boothill’s signature smirk only widens the moment you come out of the main house, wiping your hands off with your apron. you look stunning underneath the orange-ish sky. you’re also a reminder of how good boothill has it.
boothill nods and squeezes his daughter’s cheeks, gaining a small giggle at the touch. the calluses on his hands are a contrast to her smooth skin. the chubbiness in her cheeks is absolutely adorable to the white and black-haired man.
“oh, ya hear that? y’r momma made us some food,” boothill pokes the girl’s sides, which makes her laugh again. his favorite sound. she abandons her guitar and stands up, her legs still somewhat wobbly. she had only recently learnt how to walk on her own after all.
“mama!” the kid repeats, reaching her tiny hands out to your figure in the distance. you smile at the sight and crouch down, spreading your arms as you encourage her to walk towards you.
you nod and let out a small chuckle, “hi, baby! c’mon— come to mama!”
your daughter gasps and tries to find her balance before she sets another step. boothill watches her with a fond smile, his hands ready to catch her if she were to fall. though, there doesn’t seem to be any need for those precautions.
she waddles over to you in no time. her little gasps and pants as she tries to run melt the cowboy’s heart. he gets up and walks behind the tiny girl, a sudden mischievous grin on his face.
“heh,” boothill chuckles before acting like he’s going to run after her and catch her if she doesn’t run away from him, “better run before i catch ya!”
the child takes the light-hearted threat seriously and squeals at the sight of her father figure ‘running’ after her. her legs take her towards you as fast as they can, working overtime to reach the other side of the ranch, “waaaaaah!”
you laugh at the sight of your husband chasing after the little girl. he’s good with children—to your utter surprise. before boothill came home with the abandoned baby, you didn’t know if he’d have the skills to care for children. he is blunt, straightforward and rough in some ways.
however, your worries were soon to be proven wrong. it’s like boothill’s destined to be a girl dad. that’s how well he can get along with your adoptive daughter. it was difficult for him at first, but with some trial and error, he’s turned into a great father figure.
“got’cha!” boothill exclaims as he scoops the small child up in his arms the second she got close to you. he tickles her sides and she squirms—giggling like she’s never done before.
“nooooo!” she tries to protest between laughs, but it seems to be an impossible task. her little legs kick wildly in boothill’s embrace, but he doesn’t let up. he puts her over his shoulder and wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.
“the food smells good, babe,” boothill whispers and kisses the top of your head. the smell of your delicious cooking makes his mouth water. he pinches your cheek and flashes you that charming grin of his not a second later, “bet it tastes fuckin’ amazing too.”
“language, honey,” you roll your eyes playfully and slap boothill’s bicep as a reminder. he simply shrugs and laughs menacingly.
you walk back with him into the house, one hand of his resting on your waist, whilst the other secures your (still squealing) daughter on his shoulder.
the sun setting gives the sky beautiful colors. orange, purple, yellow and a bit of red. it adds to the beauty of this moment—a family of three living happily ever after on their ranch—with nothing or no one to ruin their lives.
or so they thought.
#sttoru writes.#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill x reader#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#boothill x you#boothill x y/n#hsr fluff#hsr imagines#sorry guys i had to make it angsty somehow
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Bite my lip just for the taste
nonnie request here
Blurb: Eddie isn’t only good with his hands. He worships the ground you gracefully walk on and he is determined to satisfy you in every way that he can. Your pleasure is his pleasure and thanks to your mutual friend Steve, he might just have a chance to give you what you deserve.
Pairing: Older!Mechanic!Eddie x Reader
Warnings: 18+, lust at first sight, rough!dom!Eddie (careful what you wish for, right?), oral (m receiving), p in v sex, sloppy kisses, naked bodies and underwear description, reader referred to as girl, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), alcohol, characters are of ages 25+ and 30+
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divider by @cafekitsune
Not only was Eddie Munson phenomenal with his hands when it came to mending cars and tinkering around with bolts and nuts… but he knew a trick or two with his strong muscular tongue and his long skilled fingers; and they weren’t associated with playing guitar or singing a epic chorus.
Eddie knew how to fuck— and he was fucking great at it.
But he couldn’t just come out straight with it and tell you that— he had to ease into it. It was like a dark lustrous dance of longing and need and he didn’t mind if he were in it for the long run.
Eddie wanted you but he knew that perfection took time.
It all began on a sweltering summers day. The metal head was very well educated on how car batteries and engines reacted to intense heat— but no amount of study could have prepared him for the way your car trundled into his garage.
Wiping the sweat from his thick brow he watched how you swung open the door with a tired groan and a chesty grumble. Full of merciless rage as you rattled your hands against the metal plating of the evidently old vehicle. Swearing like a sailor on a sinking ship, “Piece of shit!! I hope they crush you!”
Eddie couldn’t control the way his jaw nearly hit the dusty courtyard floor as your heeled foot struck against the cars front tire multiple times. Your rage wasn’t what surprised Eddie— he was accustomed to watching customers let out their pent up rage onto their dying automobiles. But what stunned him was you. You presented yourself in a way that made Eddie question why you decided to bring your car all the way down to this side of town when you clearly could afford to go elsewhere.
Not to toot his own horn, but Eddie was one of the best mechanics this town had to offer. However, he did hold a reputation that much of the community did not agree with. He had a look that made people uncomfortable— that made them run away.
But not you.
You charged toward him fiercely and determined. You made Eddie shrink in his boots.
“Hi, I’m looking for Eddie? Eddie Munson? I’m told this is his place.” Your sugar coated tongue had Eddie’s mind reeling. The contrast of your actions and your personality made him want to laugh aloud— but he managed to keep his humour to himself. For now. You hoop your keys around your index finger, swirling the metal so they would clank and chime against one another.
“You’re looking at him, princess,” He wipes his large oil covered hands against the dark denim of his jeans, toying with the chunky silver rings that graced his fingers as he drank you in further— having a better view of you now, “How can I help?” He briefly glances over to your car, his two front teeth puncturing his bottom lip as he recalls the way you were attacking it just moments earlier.
“My friend Steve said if anyone can fix this hunk of shit then it would be you.” You offer Eddie a tight lipped smile, your hands resting comfortably on your hips as you also gaze back over at the rust bucket your father gifted you 4 years prior, “She isn’t much to look at, but she meant a lot to my old man so… I sort of have to keep her around, Y’know?” You roll your eyes comically and Eddie hums in acknowledgment, crossing his heavily tattooed arms over his plump chest that is clad in a tarnish white tank top.
“I get it.” He grins and winks at you, walking over to where you had abandoned your prized possession, “I hope Harrington put a good word in for me, his car would’ve been scrapped last year if it weren’t for my talent.”
“He said you were the best… alongside some other things that I best not mention if you wanna keep your friendship with him on good terms.”
Eddie laughs as he leans against the bonnet of your car, his wandering eyes flickering from your skirt that is stretched across the fullness of your thighs and up to your face and all over again. He couldn’t seem to pull his attention away from you.
“It’s unlocked, if you’d like to have a look inside.” You gesture toward the hood of the car which the metal head is leisurely draped on and Eddie’s cheeks warm at the inkling that he was caught gawking at you.
“Yeah, I’ll pop it open. It might just be the heat…”
It was now your turn to rake your eyes over Eddie’s frame as he peers into the organs of your nearly dead vehicle. He was only older than you by a couple of years and yet he seemed much more experienced in life than you did. The tattoos against his pale skin had you nibbling on the plush flesh of your bottom lip. His jeans hung loosely on his hips, held up by a studded black leather belt and above the hem you could see the waistband of his boxer briefs peering out at you.
One thing Steve had failed to mention to you before your arrival was how smoking hot Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was. If you had known sooner, you would’ve dressed up a bit more— maybe you would’ve gotten changed out of your PA office attire.
But still, your tight fitted blouse and shiny black heels would just have to suffice.
“What are you doing right now?” Boldly you move around to meet Eddie’s line of vision. His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion and he flicks his fingers toward the open hood of the car, “No, I mean, after this. What are you doing? Do you.. have plans? Maybe going home to a girlfriend, perhaps?” You weren’t very subtle, but screw it! You saw the hunger in his eyes when you first showed up— he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him and you hadn’t been taken care of in a long time.
You were needy. Desperate. And Eddie may as well have been served up to you on a silver platter!
“Plans? Oh uh… no. Not at all. I uh… I was going to go home and have some shitty wine,” His pink lips perk up into a toothy smile, a knowing smile, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress your own, “Does that maybe interest you? You don’t seem like a shitty wine girl.”
You shrug your shoulders and a transparent smugness settles deep into the apples of your cheeks, “I like shitty wine.”
“The good thing about being your own boss is that you can finish whenever you want.” He slaps the bonnet of the car shut and dusts his large hands against one another, “How about I look at this tomorrow and we can take my car back to mine? Or would you like to check out my ass for a bit longer?” He slyly winks at you and your face tilts toward the ground as you make a feeble attempt to conceal the blazing fire that was torturing your skin.
“Hmmm that depends— can you guarantee that you’re not some psycho and that I won’t end up on the front page of the paper tomorrow?” For someone whose body may as well be a ferness with how hot it is, you sure are making Eddie work for what you both want. Something about him made you brave, but it also made you… timid. Quiet… obedient.
And boy oh boy, Eddie was enjoying every second of the power he had over you.
“How about I let you drive? You have the keys… you have the control.” His husky voice drops an octave as he takes a few steady strides toward you. His gaze penetrates yours and his dangerous eyes have an addictive allure. Captivating and intimidating. Revealing little but knowing much… it was exciting. He excites you.
“That could work…” your voice betrays your facade of confidence and Eddie grins wider at the soft falter in your tone. He could read you like a book. Your inviting body language, the blown darkness in the centre of your glossy eyes and the way you don’t back away from him as he stalks even closer to you. You were his prey… and he was the hunter set on a target.
One of Eddie’s rough calloused hands gently takes yours. He positions your palm flat out toward the sky so he could drop his keys onto it all while his focus on your face remains unwavering, “The keys to the castle.”
“Fitting, since you called me a princess earlier.”
“Maybe I orchestrated this from the beginning?” An entertained eyebrow perks up behind his stringy damp bangs.
“Is that so?” The sound of your hushed voice echoes back at you and your lips part longingly at Eddie’s close proximity. He is close enough to kiss— tasty enough to devour. A banquet of all of the most desirable and finer things in life.
“I saw you in those heels and with those legs… I couldn’t resist. They don’t call me a Eddie the freak Munson for no reason, princess.” There is a clip to his voice, a new intensity piercing through his words like a pin to a voodoo doll.
“You might just have to show me how freaky you really are then, Mr. freak…”
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Eddie was right. The wine did taste like shit.
You were currently draped across Eddie’s large sofa, the soft suede fabric welcomed the mould of your body as you sunk into airy cushions and you sipped hesitantly from your stemmed glass. Smearing your dark lipstick across the pristine rim as you did.
Eddie was perched on a chair across from you which was cut from the same material as the couch. His feet were planted to the floor and his legs were spread wide; like a King on his throne. There was a coffee table separating the two of you and part of you questioned why he was so far away.
You and Eddie locked eyes, a welcoming and long stare. It was comfortable, patient but growing. Neither of you looked away, but none of you made the first move, either.
Eddie was assessing you. He was trying to figure out how this would go. How it would play out. Who was going to be the dominant one and who was going to submit?
You wanted it to be him. You wanted him to know that you needed your decisions made for you tonight.
You bring your glass of wine back to your mouth, taking a small drink and proceeding to lick and bite your lip afterwards. An unspoken invitation that Eddie silently accepts.
The warm light that glows from the table lamp next to you illuminates Eddie in a gorgeous orange hue, darkening his tattoos and brightening the metal around his fingers and his neck. You envision how he would look above you— glistening in sweat with his necklace shimmering as it dangles atop of your face. The image nearly causes you to whine aloud.
Nearly.
You surveyed your surroundings, “This is a nice place you have— very cozy.” You place your wine glass on a coaster, coming back to snuggle into the pillows of the sofa and Eddie hums, pleased.
“It’s no bachelor pad but it’s home.” He tilts his nearly empty glass toward you and a mischievous smile toys with the edges of his lips, “Thank you.”
He finishes his drink with one swift movement before he is leaving his post from across from you. You watch him with blown eyes, eyes that are bright and eager. He settles his lean and sturdy physique against the door frame that leads into his kitchen space.
Your heart rate quickens with anticipation and your hips squirm beneath you as you try and remain confident under his abysmal and sinful demeanour.
You were overly aware of the lewd events hurtling toward you and the excitement of it causes your face to flush with colour.
“I’ve never fucked a girl in heels before… I think you should keep them on.” He prowls toward you, his body language animalistic and focused.
He’s been wanting to pounce on you from the moment you stepped foot through the door— but Eddie is a gentleman and gentlemen take their time.
Eddie was in front of you now. His eyes such a deep shade of chocolate brown that they seemed to swallow the light rather than reflect it. They were adorned by long dark eyelashes that you were envious of and strong clean eyebrows that framed the chiselled structure of his face. He looked like a painting. Like he wasn’t real.
“I… I can keep them on.” Your face tilts toward your feet as you try to remind yourself of the appearance of the shoes that you chose to wear that day however Eddie is quick to tensely grab you by the flesh of your cheeks and snatch your attention back to him.
“Eyes on me.” His voice is a hushed purr as his nose teeters on the edge of brushing yours, “I wanna see your pretty face.”
His grip remains tight and it forces your lips into a cute pout which Eddie coos at, “I wanna kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod your head feverishly. Without wasting a single second your lips finally met, tinged with impatience. His lips were magnificent, full and defined and soft. His tongue tastes of alcohol and mint and you moan at the contact of his wet tongue wrestling against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip and your eyes are lidded as your fingers touch the exposed skin of his shoulders with a feathery graze; causing goosebumps to arise on Eddie’s inked skin.
“I need to know that you want this…” He breathes heavy laboured breaths, “That you want me to take control. I like it rough, baby, so we need to have a safe word… okay? Safe word is Cherries. You got that?” His domineering mask slips for a quarter of a moment as his black hues sweeten. You nod again, your mind clouded with lust and desperation.
“Repeat it back to me.”
“Cherries is the safe word.”
“Clever girl.” Without a beat Eddie is dragging you up and onto your feet. You are wobbly on your legs for a moment but you are fast to regain composure. As Eddie goes to lead you through to his bedroom you stop, your body set alight.
“Eddie can I… can I taste you first?” You are a blushing mess as the words drool from your lips. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since you seen him man spreading in front of you in his armchair earlier. You wanted to dip down between his thighs and make his cock twitch with need, “Please.”
The metal head looked bewildered for a moment however he quickly welcomed the request. How could he possibly deny such a sweet girl when she asked him so politely?
He walks the both of you over to the comfortable chair, sitting himself down and allowing his hands to have free roam of your ass and hips, “Ask me as nicely as that and I’d give you anything you want, princess.” The pet name was now tainted with naughty intention as it rolled off of his slick tongue and your knees weaken at the sight of him gazing up at you.
It was nice to be able to study a man features without any shame or embarrassment. You were so used to stealing glances at attractive men but the visual feast sitting in front of you was enjoyed without any guilt.
You offer Eddie an intoxicated smile as his eyes venture over your face, your neck, your breasts and your exposed legs. You weren’t worried about the way your body looked— there was something so calming about Eddie that struck a match of confidence within you and he seemed to like what he was looking at.
“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He rips down your skirt from around your waist, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you stood in the pile of bunched fabric. His hands work quickly on your blouse and Eddie growls at the sight of you. Nothing to you but your matching lace underwear set and your heels.
Your nipples peak at the change of temperature in the room and the sly man pinches them with the tips of his slender fingers, rolling the buds mercilessly and smirking devilishly as he does. The action causes a soft whine to emit from your throat and Eddie’s lips perk into a grin at the sound. He was obsessed with you.
“Kneel.”
And you do. The bones of your knees meet the floor with a pathetic thud and Eddie smooths the palm of his hand across the softness of your hair; enticing you that he will be gentle at first but he yanks the strands seconds later, causing you to yelp.
“Open up. I wanna see if I’ll fit.”
Bracing yourself with your hands on his jean clad knees you unhinge your jaw, opening wide as Eddie slots two of his fingers onto your tongue and they slide deep in the crevasse of your mouth. They tickle the back of your throat and your thighs clench together at the thought of him fucking of your face.
“It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I’m sure you can handle it. Right, hon?”
“Yes. I can take it. Please…” You babble around his digits.
There you are again with your manners and your begging bambi eyes. It awakens something within Eddie— something that had been sitting dormant but has now stirred from its slumber. A darkness. A line he had never crossed but he was so close to it now. He wanted to own you. He wanted you to belong to him… to be his and only his.
“Go on then, baby. He’s waiting.” He winks at you and your adrenaline shaken hands find the zipper of his jeans. Eddie’s thick bulge strains against the stiff denim and you chew on your bottom lip furiously as his long and full shaft springs from his boxer briefs.
Your mouth salivates at the sight and you look to him for permission, which Eddie gives, before you are popping his throbbing tip into the hot cave of your mouth. A vibration travels down Eddie’s cock and reaches his balls as you moan around him. He felt so good— so natural to have him in your mouth. Like sucking on your favourite treat.
“Fuck— that feels so good.” Dark curls spill onto the back cushion of the chair and Eddie’s hands fist your hair into a ponytail, guiding your slobbering mouth up and down the length of his aching cock.
Your mind was blank of anything except for Eddie’s body and the way he felt inside of you. He hadn’t even penetrated you yet and your panties were dampening with slick more and more with every passing bob of your head.
“Shit—“ Eddie seethes through clenched teeth, his hips rocking up to meet your sloppy movements and he punctuates each thrust with a rewarding moan. “I need to feel you.” It was abrupt, the way he ripped your mouth away from him— but you understood. You needed to feel him too. You hadn’t felt this desperate for anyone before; this sultry and seductive. This needy and submissive. You didn’t want this night to end.
You cant contain the soft pants that leave your throat, a mixture of excitement and arousal as you climbed onto straddle Eddie’s thighs. His body felt hard and masculine beneath your touch and you shivered at the way he laid a harsh spank to the meaty flesh of your ass.
“As innocent as you look, you really are just a dirty little slut, huh?” He slaps you again, this time harder than the last and you nearly collapse against his chest. Eddie laughs mockingly, forcing you to sit upright as his fingers plunge down into the soaking fabric of your panties.
You gasp, your already primed body becoming slippier as his fingers thrust softly into you— testing the waters.
“Such a wet pussy, all for me…” His fingers twitch inside of you and you release a sound which can only be described as a moan combined with a helpless whine. With his free hand Eddie rips your breasts from the confines of your bra, allowing the skin to spill free.
His tongue bathed your breast while he used his teeth, giving you peppered bites that shot pleasure through your body like a lightning bolt. He drew your coiled nipple into his mouth and he let his teeth roughly drag over the tip. You moaned loudly. He leaves your breast and looks up into your face.
“Tell me how badly you want my cock.” His voice is a clipped and cool demand.
“I want you to fill me up so bad. I need it, Eddie. Please… fuck, I want it more than anything.” Your hips grind against his fingers and your words must’ve struck Eddie in a pleasant way because before your brain has any time to catch up to his ever changing movements, his fingers are pulling your panties off to one side and his cock is teasing and toying with your dripping hole.
The eye contact between the pair of you was intense as Eddie’s entire length slowly slid inside of you. Your breathing catches in your throat at the stretch of him. Before long, Eddie settles inside of you and your eyes remain shackled to one another. Sex with a stranger shouldn’t be this intimate— so you screw your eyes shut.
Big mistake.
“Open your fucking eyes,” He snarls, his hand grabbing your throat harshly as he pulls your body down toward his, “I want you to watch me as I fuck you.” Your eyelids snap open and Eddie’s features are slack but intimidating as he looks at you. The feeling of being brutally and totally full was almost too much for you to stand. Too much for you to handle. He pulls back from you and begins to thrust.
“Wait—“ You plead and your hands find Eddie’s chest as you support yourself on top of him, “I just need a moment to adjust… you’re so big.” You squirm at the pulsing of your walls around Eddie’s shaft and he grins egotistically up at you.
“Perfect thing to say.”
He repositions his grip onto the back of your thighs, slowly readjusting himself beneath you and easing himself in and out.
“Okay,” you breathe with a soft nod, “You can fuck me now.”
Eddie sensed that your body was ready for his size and he then started to brutishly slam his body into yours. Unbelievably erotic sounds hit your ears as you feel and hear his hips slapping against yours. Sticky skin meeting sticky skin.
“Feels like someone is fisting my dick.”
“Wettest little pussy I’ve ever fucked, yknow that?”
“Shit, I could cum from just the sight of you.”
“Listen to that, baby. You hear how much your pussy is loving my cock?”
“Keep those stunning fucking eyes on me.”
Eddie’s deep grunts and moans mixed with his dirty commentary only heightened the erotica. You’re gentle to take his hand into yours, timidly welcoming two of his fingers back into your mouth as you bound up and down to meet the crack of his hips against yours. Eddie’s eyes gloss over from the view of you above him and his thrusts get snappier and more intentional. Harsher. Quicker. Deeper.
As his cock fucks your sweet hole, his fingers are busy fucking your mouth as well. He took note of how much you liked to have him in your mouth— no matter what part of his body that may be. Eddie got an inkling that this would be the first of many nights together. And he wasn’t mad at the idea— he was actually thrilled by it. It spurred him on.
“Rub your clit for me, sweet girl.” It was as if you were in a trance and the only thing you were able to do was obey Eddie’s every beckon and call. Your finger tips find your sensitive bundle of nerves and you sigh out in complete bliss at the euphoria that shocks up every vertebrae of your spine.
“That’s it, baby. I want you to cum so fucking hard. I’m getting so close— want you to cream all over my cock.”
The speed in which your fingers circled your clit increases and your eyes fight to stay open. You could feel the desperation punctuated in every one of Eddie’s quickened thrusts and you feel that familiar build coming to build in your tummy.
“Fuck— I’m gonna cum. Keep rubbing that clit, baby. You’re being such a good girl for me.” His tired pants fill the air and your mind whizzes and bubbles as you whine out loudly.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, of fuck!” Your mouth gapes open wide, mirroring the sweaty sex symbol below you and your eyes widen as your orgasm floods your every cell. Shaking your body from head to toe. You feel Eddie’s cock swell inside of you— causing your high to continue
“Shit!!” A yell breaks past Eddie’s swollen lips as his orgasm hits. You watch as his face contours as he cums inside of you. His eyes squint shut and his mouth is pulled into a grimace. The veins on his forearms bulk and tense. It was the sexiest thing you had ever fucking seen.
Your heart paced rabidly in your chest as you both breathed heavily, trying to control the heaving of your chests as you both came down. You’re relying on Eddie’s body to keep you from collapsing and Eddie is wise to this. His strong arms wrap around your body as he pulls himself out of you, bringing you to rest on his chest.
Too tired and sated to do anything else, you press yourself against Eddie’s bare and empty sack, grinding lightly down onto the tender flesh of his balls and the noise that leaves Eddie’s throat is indescribable.
You shoot up to look at him and it’s now your turn to smirk and it’s Eddie’s turn to flush a shade of bright red.
“Ignore that.” He coughs to clear his oesophagus, followed by a light hearted chuckle as you come to lay back against his limp body and a knowingness fills your mind.
This wasn’t just going to be a one night stand… and this wasn’t the last time you were going to be laying on top of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.
This was just the sweaty, sexy beginning.
-
taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @jasminelafleur
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson smut#smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie stranger things#eddie the freak munson#mechanic!eddie munson#mechanic!eddie#older!eddie munson#older!eddie x reader#older!eddie smut#fandom#fanfic
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new religion | joel miller
Summary | Joel's never much been a religious man, but if he were, he'd ask the Lord what he'd ever done to deserve you.
Pairing | Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 1.5k
Warnings | Explicit. Religious imagery, basically porn without plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, cumshot, dirty talk, Joel worshipping you like you deserve, nothing bad happens to him ever and he dies peacefully in his sleep at age 101, no use of y/n. Written and edited on phone so please excuse any mistakes.
Authors Note | God bless hbo for that teaser am I right? I just want Jackson Joel to always find peace. Also thanks to All Time Low and their song New Religion for the Inspo. I hope you enjoy!
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika
I found God and we found heaven, On the bedroom floor.
Joel Miller isn’t sure how he got here. Knees creaking and painful, a dull ache in his back that never goes away, and years behind him that have led him to right now.
Years of being closed off, scared to open up to anyone in case he failed them as well. Years of using his anger at himself to reign terror on others. Years with Tommy that were strained, years with Tess that were less so, even good sometimes, and now years with Ellie, good, bad and everything in between. The relative safety of Jackson was unsettling, after years of fighting to survive and barely making it, scars on his body testimony to that, the normality was unsettling.
He’s getting used to it though, slowly but surely, and he thinks that along with his brother and Ellie, it has something to do with you.
You, stood in front of him, backlit by the setting sun, nude and waiting, whilst he kneels in front of you. Pained be damned, he’s going to worship you like the goddess you are.
Tommy has spent the past year absolutely rinsing his older brother for this. When Joel and Ellie had arrived back, he’d made it his mission to set Joel up with one of the many fawning ladies available. There was Esther, who was nice enough, and Lindsey who had been far too forthcoming, and others that Joel would rather not remember, telling Tommy that he didn’t need anyone, didn’t want anyone, was more than happy on his own.
Then he’d met you, sunshine to his clouds, sharp, quick-witted and funny. A take-no-shit kind of gal that had gotten under his skin more than he cared to admit. The first few times it was quick, fumbles in the alley behind the tipsy bison, or hurried moments bent over the dusty couch at the lookout on patrol, convincing himself that once again this was nothing but stress relief.
Then things changed, you started making him laugh, started sitting on his porch with him, laying on his couch whilst he played his guitar, and then he started spreading you out on his bed, started taking his time, learning what made you respond best, how you liked it, how you clenched so tight around him when he clasped your fingers in his and pounded you into the mattress.
Joel has never been much of a religious man, not since the end of the world, but he thinks, right here on your bedroom floor, that he’s found God. When you walk towards him and run your hands through his greying hair, tilt his chin up so he’s looking at you, hands on your hips like you’re his altar.
He brings his face closer to you, tongue licking through your folds as you stand before him. Your fingers tighten in his hair when the tip of his tongue finds your clit, your own head tipping back, face to the real Lord if he exists, muttering his name over and over in your own twisted prayer.
His jeans are tightening as he licks at you, the sounds you make doing what they always do, shooting straight to his cock. It’s why he can’t quit this, even if in the back of his mind he knows he probably should. You’re younger than him, though not scandalously, and he can feel that the years of his prime are fading the more comfortable he gets here. He knows that wanting you as much as he does is a sin in itself, but walking away? That somehow seems worse to him. He finally wants to be selfish, to think of himself and his own happiness for once, and it’s the taste of you on his tongue when he drags it down to where you’re leaking for him that convinces him he has to stay.
“Oh, Joel,” You whimper, knees shaking, “Keep going.”
“Ain’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere, pretty girl.” He groans into your pussy, his big hands holding your hips in place to keep you upright as his tongue drags back up from your fluttering hole to your clit.
You widen your stance a little, spreading the lips of your cunt for him so he can fuse his mouth over your clit, suckling at it whilst his tongue works against the swollen bud in the way that he knows will have you tipped over the edge in no time.
He loves when you come for him. A reminder that he’s still got it, that he can learn your ins and outs and keep you satisfied, even at his age. He has to press his fingers into your hips a little tighter when you do come for him, keeping you upright before you knees can buckle underneath you as you cry his name out into the darkening room. Pulling his mouth away from you before you start whimpering that it’s too much.
Normally he’d pull you over to the bed, but there’s something in him tonight that means he can’t wait the extra seconds, so he’s pulling you down onto the floor with him, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands so you don’t hit in on the wood as he crawls on top of you, legs spread wide for his thighs as he pops the buttons of his jeans and drags the zipper down.
He’s in too much of a rush to undress properly, pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. You’re reaching down, taking his length in your hand, dragging it up and down as he pulls his shirt over his head.
There are tiny droplets of sweat across your forehead, the open window and the breeze no match for the heat in the room, and he doesn’t know why he does it, but as he leans down, your hand guiding his cock to your soaked cunt, he lets his lips kiss across your forehead, like it’s holy water and he’s being reborn as he slips into your tight heat.
He doesn’t think he’s heard a sweeter sound than the ones he hears from you as he drags his cock in and out of your pussy. Gasps and whines and whimpers, never too loud, like they’re just for him. No-one else needs to know how good he makes you feel, just him. He presses his mouth to yours as he grips your wrists, pinning them to floor, swallowing your sounds as he fucks you.
Joel knows that it takes him a little longer these days, knows from the way you’re squirming that the ache in your hips is setting in. He knows that your body aches the same as his does, that your back aches and your knees hurt after a long patrol, but you’re being so good for him.
“Such a good girl,” He coos into your ear, “Y’can take it, can’t you?”
You arch your body up into him at his praise, “It’s so good,” You moan, your hands reaching behind him to sink your nails into the meat of his ass, “Harder, please.”
He can never deny you, so he pushes himself up, takes your knees in his hands and presses them down towards your chest, hooking his arms there to keep you spread open as he guides his cock back into you. He can feel his own sweat appearing across his skin as he does exactly what you asked for, he fucks you harder, as hard as he can, listening to the squeals you make as he bottoms out inside you and the slapping of his skin against yours.
“M’close,” He moans at you, “M’gonna come, baby.”
“Please,” You groan back, squirming underneath him, “Come for me Joel, please.”
And he does, pulling out at the very last minute, letting go of your legs to pump his cock with his fist before he comes, splashing his spend across your belly as he tips his head back and praises the Lord for you.
He knows he will pay for it tomorrow, but he collapses onto the floor next to you, pulling you into his chest. He can feel the sticky cum mixing with the hair across his stomach, but he doesn’t much care, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you settle together on the cool ground. His fingers trail up and down your spine as you lie together in the quiet of the early evening, finding peace with it all for once. After years and years of being on his own, of being scared to open up and let someone in, he finds he doesn’t much mind the thought of it anymore.
And above all, whether he makes it to the real thing or not when his time is up, that he’s found heaven, right here on your bedroom floor.
#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#tlou smut#tlou fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#Joel Miller Pedro pascal#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller tlou#Joel tlou#Joel Miller the last of us#Joel the last of us
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hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼
Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??
First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣
Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…
Part 2
You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.
‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.
He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.
For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.
‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’
‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.
‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’
He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.
‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.
‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.
Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’
Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.
‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.
As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.
#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman atsv#spiderman atsv x you#spiderman atsv x reader#spiderman atsv imagines#spiderman atsv fic#spiderman atsv imagine#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderpunk x reader#hobie brown imagines#hobie brown x you#hobie brown imagine#hobie x reader#hobie brown fluff#hobie brown x reader#across the spiderverse#spiderverse x reader
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pop goes metal
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'
rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together
🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤
"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"
The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."
"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.
"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."
"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.
"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."
Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.
Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.
He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.
His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.
Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.
Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.
"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."
"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."
"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.
"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.
"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.
"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."
****
Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.
He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.
"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.
Eddie stared.
"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."
Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?
"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"
Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.
"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."
"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.
"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."
But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.
"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.
Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.
"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.
"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."
Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.
"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."
Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.
"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.
"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"
"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.
"Um. No I guess not."
"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?
"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.
"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."
"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.
"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.
"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.
#corroded coffin#corrodedcoffinfest#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#jeff stranger things#gareth stranger things#unnamed freak stranger things#stranger things#rock star eddie munson#pop star steve harrington
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Steddie | 2.2k | first meetings | ao3
“What did you say the name of the band is again?” Steve asks. He has to raise his voice above the sound of the music playing before the concert and the hundreds of conversations around him.
“Corroded Coffin” Dustin says, probably for the hundredth time, or that’s what his tone suggests.
“It’s written on the drums.” Mike adds with his constant bitchy petulant tone.
Steve turns around and fair enough, the name is written there in the drums. They are also right there as they had queued for hours to be at the front (they are not in the centre but there’s no one standing in front of them), and apparently the band and place are small enough that there is no security line in front of the stage. Steve has been leaning against it with a drink in his hand while they wait for the concert to start. And that’s his excuse. He was leaning against the stage, so the drums were to his back, he couldn’t have read them.
“C’mon Steve, even I learned the name of the band in the eternity we have been here” Robin says which, rude, but she had agreed to come keep him company at a metal concert without asking for anything in return, so he will let it pass.
The kids (not quite kids anymore, but close enough) had needed an adult to get into the 18+ venue the concert was held at, and of course that adult had to be Steve because “we are not going to bring one of our parents into a metal concert Steve” and “Nancy and Jonathan are not even in the state and you said you were fun, didn’t you?” and he is fun, so he had to agree. And drag Robin with him, of course.
“Well I would remember the name if it wasn’t a stupid name” he says, a bit too loud if the looks he receives from some of the people around them are anything to go by.
“If you are so annoyed why don’t you go hang out at the bar and leave us alone?” Dustin asks.
“If I’m at a concert I’m getting the full experience, I’ve not queued for hours to stay at the bar. And I have to make sure you don’t get squished to death or accept drinks from strangers.”
“We are sixteen, you already drank when you were sixteen.”
“But I didn’t have a wristband telling everyone I was a minor.” He emphasizes this by hooking his forefinger on said wristband around Dustin’s wrist. The boy takes his hand away with a huff, but whatever he was going to say gets interrupted by a loud cheer as the lights of the venue dim. All eyes turn to the stage, and Steve forgets everything about the little shits around him.
They play the first two songs without interruption, back to back, and they are much better than Steve had expected them to be when the kids had pitched the idea of going to a concert of ‘a super cool band’ they had found on tiktok of all places. Steve is very quick to understand their raising popularity on social media the moment his eyes land on the frontman. He is not even wearing anything scandalous, just black jeans, some graphic tee and a leather jacket, but fuck if he isn’t attractive. His big eyes, teasing smile and wild hair are very much deserving of the screams they awake in the audience.
When the second song finishes, they don’t start a new one, the frontman takes the microphone from the stand.
“Are you ready for the best night of your life?” he shouts, and the audience answers with shouts of their own. Steve finds himself whooping, and answers with a smile and a shrug to Robin’s amused silent question as both of them clap. “We are Corroded Coffin,” more yelling, and the frontman stars walking around with a smile on his lips while he looks at the ground, clearly enjoying the attention. “And these aaaaaare…” he prolongs the last word, building a dramatic effect. “Gareth!” he shouts, pointing to the back dramatically. There are yells, the boy at the drums doing a short solo before he stands up to wave at the audience. “Jeff!” more yells, a guitar solo. “Our favourite Freak!” laughs from band and audience alike, more yells, and the boy with the bass trying to hit the frontman with said bass. “And I’m Eddie.”
‘Eddie’ Steve mouths the name.
There are yells as the frontman finishes, a small bashful smile on his lips back on his face after the laughing as he plays with the microphone stand with the hand that is not currently holding the microphone. He looks up at the audience when the yells don’t stop, gives a small dramatic bow and smirks when the yells grow louder once again.
“EDDIE MARRY ME” a voice yells from somewhere in the audience.
“Oh? Without going on a date first?” Eddie asks, he has his gaze set somewhere on the audience, and Steve is a bit impressed at how easily he has spot the person in the sea of bodies.
“I’M FREE WHENEVER.” The same voice yells again, it makes Eddie laugh.
“I’m honoured, my fair lady, but I’ll have to decline. I’m looking for my knight in shining armour myself.” There are ooohs from the audience but Steve’s gut makes a traitorous interested twist. “And speaking of knights,” he says, putting his hands back on his guitar, “I think you may know this one.” One note, and the audience is going crazy. Dustin is jumping up and down while he holds onto Steve’s arm, and Steve can’t help but laugh at him.
It's when that third song is finishing that it happens. The guitarist is starting a solo, and Eddie looks down to the base of the microphone stand, pulls a confused face, and then looks around. He must not see whatever he was looking for because he has a confused furrow in his brow when he does a second sweep around the stage and beyond, and he catches Steve's eyes. He maintains the eye contact for a second, two, five, and then looks down to Steve’s hands and back up again. There is a smirk in his face Steve is not entirely sure he likes the implications of as he walks towards him while he keeps playing.
Steve can hear Dustin screaming “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” right next to his ear as Eddie comes closer until he is standing right in front of them.
The musician is still looking at Steve as he leans forward and asks “give me a sip?” as he looks down at Steve’s hands for a second. (Or at least that’s what Steve guesses he says, the noise too loud for him to really hear him without his mic.)
Steve lifts his drink, and the frontman leans forward and down with a smile. He opens his mouth and Steve pours his drink in it. When he finishes, he winks at Steve before he walks away in time to start singing again. The kids around him are screaming, Robin is surely going to make him partially deaf and is shaking him so hard he almost drops the rest of his drink. It takes until the next song starts for the bunch to calm down a bit and focus on the show again.
The thing is, that is not the last time it happens. Eddie comes back to steal sips from his drink every few verses, and when Steve’s drink is finished and he goes to get a beer, he is miraculously let back to the front by the audience. Eddie, of course, also wants to have his share of the beer. So they share it.
It is, if Steve is honest, the weirdest experience he has ever had in a concert. But he is having too much fun and would not change it for anything. A hot singer and guitarist coming to him every few minutes and bending down so Steve can pour drink into his mouth? The best thing that has happened to him all month. It only gets better when Eddie ditches his leather jacket – Steve was starting to wonder when that was going to happen because it’s much too hot in the venue for it and he is sure that a big reason Eddie needs to drink so much is because he is sweating it all and dehydrating – and reveals that the tee he was wearing underneath has the sleeves cut off very freely. Steve can see most of the man’s torso and that is a SIGHT. There are tattoos on his arms and ribcage that Steve immediately wants to see complete, and his waist is slim where the shirt is tucked into the jeans. It makes Steve bite his lip in want.
He is about to pour the last of their third beer in Eddie’s mouth when a small hand stops him. He looks to the side with confusion, sure that none of the kids or Robin would stop him at this point and is met with the smile of a small blonde girl.
“Give him this please” she says, handing him a bottle of an electrolyte drink. Steve looks back at Eddie just in time to see him groaning. “No more beer.” She adds, pointing to Eddie as if he was a misbehaving dog, he is surely giving the look, with his big brown eyes and sad look. She turns back to Steve, “and sorry about that, any new drinks you get are on us.”
She is gone with that. Steve looks at Eddie, at the new drink in his hand. Eddie shrugs, defeated, and leans forward. Steve quickly empties the rest of the beer in his mouth before he opens the new bottle and starts pouring from it. Eddie doesn’t drink much, too busy trying not to choke on the beer and his laughter.
Eddie ditches his guitar towards the end of the concert for a ‘calmer’ song. He walks around the stage as he sings to a boy involved in him that tries to deny the depth of their relationship and tries to date girls, and how in the future he is going to regret not staying with him. He has great stage presence, he has been flirting with the audience between songs, dramatic and charismatic, a bit over the top. Maybe the fastest crush Steve has ever developed, happy to enjoy his part in the show, even when he knows it’s not going to lead anywhere.
Steve feels his heart accelerating as Eddie walks towards him, which is ridiculous, they have been doing this all night. But this time Eddie shakes his head when Steve gets the drink ready, and he can only look as he kneels on the edge of he stage right in front of him as he sings the bridge. They are holding eye contact now, and it’s the closest they have been. Eddie’s eyes are captivating, Steve can only stop looking at them to glance down at his lips. It seems he was caught, because the next second Eddie is speaking.
“Are we about to kiss right now?” he asks, and Steve looks back up to his eyes. He lifts his eyebrows, trying to convey ‘bring it on’ as best as he can as he licks his lips, Eddie’s eyes glancing at them. It must work, because the next second Eddie is leaning forward, and now Steve’s hand is on his nape, and their lips are pressing against each other.
It’s probably the filthiest kiss Steve has participated on. At least with an audience. It’s not long, Eddie has to keep singing after all, but they make up for it in tongue action. The audience goes crazy around them, but Steve doesn’t pay attention to them at all, only focused on Eddie. He at least must be paying some attention to their surroundings because he pulls off in time to keep singing and stands up to move around the stage.
There are a couple of songs more, and then Eddie is introducing the band again before he starts listing all the members of the staff that have made the concert possible.
“We also wouldn’t have made it here without our precious manager Chrissy,” he adds, “even when she worries too much sometimes. Three beers are not enough to get me drunk, especially not shared ones. And that reminds me! I can’t forget to thank my knight in shining armour, my perfect drink partner…” he trails off.
“STEVE!” Robin shouts next to him.
“Steve” Eddie repeats with a smile. “Thank you for the drinks. Don’t go running off now too fast now, alright? Stay for a bit after the concert, I owe you a couple of beers.” He finishes with a wink.
The kids and Robin are screaming again, and Steve is sure he is going to have bruises tomorrow from their grabbing, but he doesn’t stray his gaze from Eddie. At least not until the last song finishes, the lights from the stage turn off, and the rest of the lights of the venue turn on. Then, and only then, Steve turns towards the others.
“How did you say you were going to get back home again?”
Part two
Now with art
#of course the whole gang gets to meet the band#and then they arrange transport for everyone so Steve and Eddie can spend the night together#I imagine Steve like: i bet he does something like this in every concert. this must be a bit. dont freak out robin.#he is a metal musician he must have groupies in every concert#but NOPE Eddie saw Steve and was immediately in love. its him or no one. 100% yn style#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#my writings#steve x eddie
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sal fisher headcanons
i've literally never been so horrendously down bad for a character before.. so i HAD to share my head canons for sal :3
CW: NSFW AHEAD!!
fluff <3
♡ he would try to teach you guitar, even if you arent very good at it...
♡ if you have sh scars, he'd kiss them over and over and over again, no matter where they are
♡ blushes over everything you do, any little touch you give him, he gets flustered over
♡ "ummmmm... uhh- i- well.. umm"
♡ he loves giving you things. for whatever reason, he's always gifting you small trinkets to show his love for you. his favorite excuse for buying you something is "it reminded me of you!"
♡ not the kinda guy who goes for looks. no matter how 'ugly' you think you are, he'll wholeheartedly see you as the most beautiful person in the world.
♡ with that being said.. he'd definitely stop in his tracks if he saw a cutie :3
♡ (IT'S YOU, YOU'RE THE CUTIE. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS HIS TYPE. GOD, HOW ARE YOU SO PERFECT FOR HIM??)
♡ if you ever mention something in a conversation (a band you like, a cool movie you just watched or a book you read, etc.) he's definitely going home and learning all he can about it.
♡ wholesome romance like those in the romcom movies
♡ "i love everybody because i love you" /ref /ly
♡ would totally let you paint his nails, do his hair, anything like that. he loves when you make him feel pretty <3
♡ doesn't want anyone to know this, but he loves wearing your clothes. like, you know the whole "wearing you bf's jacket/hoodie" thing? that's what he wants, but with your clothes.
♡ obviously he won't deny you his hoodie, but deep down he's waiting for you to give him yours
♡ LOVES giving long, deep, passionate hugs. hugs and cuddle sessions that can go on for an hour. he loves squeezing you against him, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside; being so close to someone he loves so much
♡ he WILL sniff you. he can't get enough of your scent. at first he was scared you would think it was weird, but now he does it freely. he's a very sensual person, and because of his disability (possibly impaired sight?), he often relies on his other senses to soak up every little piece of you.
♡ he loves wrapping you in his arms, cradling and comforting you if he knows you need it.
♡ he's excellent at reading you. he feels like he knows you best. despite being someone who can't really show his emotions through his expressions, he's amazing at reading yours.
♡ you don't even have to tell him anythings wrong. he knows when you need a hug.
nsfw :3
♡ definitely has a mommy kink. argue with the wall.
♡ it just slipped out one day.. you were riding him, making him feel good and warm, and all of a sudden he let out a small "m-mommy..!"
♡ that being said, he LOVES having you on top of him
♡ while you're straddling him, he grabs you by your hips to make sure you're not going anywhere
♡ very shy + whimpering mess
♡ the kind to not know where to put his hands
♡ that doesn't mean he sometimes doesn't have a dom side to him...
♡ he's definitely a giver. he prioritizes your pleasure before his own
♡ he's insecure about his ability to turn you on, make you cum, etc. he always tries his hardest to make you feel good, and lets just say it always works :3
♡ jerks off to the thought of you more than he would like to admit
♡ has a VERY vivid imagination.
♡ oh god the things he thinks about doing to you are almost to embarrassing for him to admit
♡ very sweet and loving the whole time. he's huge on praise, and would rather die than ever make you uncomfortable. your sessions are filled with millions of
"are you liking that?" "you're doing so good for me." "are you okay with this?" "you feel amazing (y/n)"
♡ he needs 100% confirmation on your dirty suggestions. you could make a hint, but won't act on it until he's absolutely sure you mean it (obviously you always do, but god is this boy insecure.)
♡ doesn't seem like it, but will fuck you like a rabbit. it's always the quiet, sweet boys who are the dirtiest behind closed doors :3
♡ likes being bitten. idk. idc. IDGAF.
#this is my first post you guys im scared#sally face#sally face smut#sally face headcanons#sal fisher#sal fisher x y/n#sal fisher headcanons#sal fisher x you#sally face x reader#sally face fluff#sal fisher smut#sal fisher fluff#character headcanons#headcanon
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Eliot Spencer. Listen to me i am obsessed with the man. He is so incredibly stereotypically masculine, and hardcore so, yet at the same time really isn't in ways that would be damning for the 2000s and early 2010s. Long hair, not unusually tall, the most emotionally aware one and most in tune with his emotions on the whole team. (Not that the others don't also have points in that area, but they're all terrible at it in some way and Eliot scores by far the most points.) He has a hobby that's not James Bond like (cooking), and he gets to be goofy while being unquestioned as the most badass guy in the room. And yes he makes inappropriate jokes about lesbians and goes all no homo at physical affection from other men, and younger people probably don't find him quite as monumental as i do in terms of masculinity. But his behaviour never reflects those jokes or the no homo, and he was the red blooded american former military guy character on a big network tv show in the year 2009. For which he was a severely mild case. He treats the other characters as people and not stereotypes, in the way the whole show does, and he has long hair he puts up in ponytails and half buns that have his side bangs falling out (you need to understand what big of a deal the manbun was in like 2013, so much so that they had to invent a word). He's emotional and doesn't actually mean his gruffness most of the time, and doesn't thinks himself above certain tasks or people. He wears ridiculous little outfits without putting up a show about his threatened masculinity, and he's the most emotionally intelligent one outside of cons. He wears little jewellery in his hair sometimes, and little braids even (yes braided hair was a no go), he plays guitar and sings earnest love songs not just to try to get laid (love songs would only be permissible in the immediate context of romance), and whenever they have a young woman as a client, that reminds him of home i presume, he works with so much effort and respect for them as the one he's in service to, and respects their opinion strongly. He wears glasses, and reads books and is way too nerdy for an action hero type of the 2010s. He is great with kids, and unironically so (there were multiple big shows and movies about the topic of "men needing to deal with children on their own" with the entire premise of that being ridiculous and them being naturally bad at it). He's the most stereotypically action hero type masculine guy on the show, and he does get strive or posture for power or dominance in their team, is content with a contributing role and trusting on the expertise of the others, and he is not portrayed as the most valuable one or as that behaviour being beneath him. He undresses so he and the woman he's fighting with are on equal ground reading undress. He is shorter than the others and continuously portrayed as the most dangerous one in any room, and height differences afe never deemphasised via cinematography (seriously, to be regarded as sufficiently masculine in western films they either get really tall actors or employ a variety of camera angles and boxes to give that impression. But just think of Eliot in the pilot when rescuing Hardison in the first break in, standing behind the group of security guys who all look way taller than him and more physically impressive with weapons and all. And then Eliot just in a t-shirt with no weapon but himself.) He has long hair (again, mainstream sufficiently masculine guys didn't do that back then, or now if we think of it (not that long at least)).
The show and all it's characters were a goddamn marvel back in 2009, and sadly in many ways still are today, 15 years later.
And he heals my little broken heart regarding gender stereotypes and masculinity, my heart that grew up in the 2000s and has so much difficulty accepting that my gender is valid. Bless him for it.
#own post#eliot spencer#leverage#trans man#i seriously wouldn't wish the rigid gender roles of back then on anyone#like the saying goes they would call you gay and revoke your masculinity card if you used lotion on cracked skin#not that it isn't often an issue today still
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be still my heart — jjk [two]
the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.
genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst
word count : 5.1k
chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.
a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.
Jungkook
During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.
Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.
If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.
He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.
Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.
This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.
It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?
On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.
Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.
This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.
The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.
Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.
“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”
“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”
“Oh god this man will be my death”
“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”
God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.
She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.
“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.
Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.
Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”
“He’ll understand”
Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”
Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”
He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.
“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."
“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.
He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.
He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.
“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.
He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”
He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”
Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”
“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”
He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”
Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.
After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.
Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.
However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.
Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.
“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.
He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”
A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”
The guys break out in fits of laughter.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,
“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”
From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.
The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.
Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.
“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.
The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.
“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.
“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.
Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”
Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.
“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.
“What do you think?”
“What?”
“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.
“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.
He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.
The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.
The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Destiny
“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.
Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”
He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.
Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”
You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.
“It is”
Your smile drops, “Huh?”
“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”
Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.
“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”
He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.
“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.
Well, knock me down with a feather.
Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”
You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.
Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.
He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.
Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.
“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”
The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.
“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”
He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.
Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.
“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”
A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.
“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”
Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.
It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?
“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”
Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.
You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”
You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.
“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."
A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”
The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.
You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”
He holds your gaze. “What favor?”
You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”
He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”
With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.
You flinch. “Jungkook?”
He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.
He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”
You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”
You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.
“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”
No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.
He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”
“Wait, really?”
Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.
Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.
“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.
His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.
When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.
Wait what?!
He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.
“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”
You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.
“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”
He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.
“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”
His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.
“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.
That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.
You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.
“Destiny”
You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.
“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Jungkook
Jungkook is dying.
Figuratively, of course.
He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.
Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that.
He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.
Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe.
When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.
He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can.
Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.
“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook.
He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves.
“Jungkook? Is everything okay?”
Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.
He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.”
She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”
He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die.
When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.
He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.
What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.
“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?”
“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.”
She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office”
As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys.
“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something”
She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity.
“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?”
“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night”
She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating?
Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about”
“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.
“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”
“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry”
She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something.
“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”
He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”
“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee.
His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it?
“It was uh okay”
Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.
When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones.
Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?
She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that.
He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.
Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.
“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”
Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.
Can he catch a break?
Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)
#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts#jungkook scenario#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x you#bts x reader#jungkook imagine#bts scenario#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts smut#bts jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook series#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook oneshot#fluff#caramelkoo
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He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader
Based off of this post
Part 2 bonus bonus ii
Masterlist
Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick
Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)
"How are you even cooler under your mask?"
"I was this cool the whole time."
A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.
Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.
Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.
You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.
He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.
As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.
You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.
"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."
He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)
You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.
"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"
"And that's the bite of '83, right?"
"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"
He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."
This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.
He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.
He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.
"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."
He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"
"It's not true?"
He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."
"Oh really?"
He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.
"What's that look about?"
"Would you like someone to teach you?"
He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.
That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.
Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.
He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.
"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.
You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.
He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.
He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"
"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.
"You really want to have sex? With me?"
You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.
"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.
"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)
God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.
"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.
The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.
You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.
You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.
His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.
"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.
"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.
"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.
"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."
He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."
You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.
"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."
"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"
"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.
"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"
"I'm on the pill."
He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.
"You scared?" She asks.
He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."
You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."
"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."
"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"
Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.
"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.
She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."
Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)
Taglist is closed!
Masterlist
#across the spiderverse#hobie brown#spider punk#spider punk smut#hobie brown x black!reader#spider punk x reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x black reader#spider punk x reader smut#black reader
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I don’t know if you do Steve or(I have mostly seen your Eddie work which I love by the way)Eddie
but I’m let you choose but ex reader and (Steve or Eddie) angst to fluffy smut at the end and maybe they saw each other at the bar or something and those feelings turn into sweet ole fluffy smut 🫡 ( PFT I don’t know if that make sense) 😭💀
Eddie exes-to-lovers? I'm in.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, fingering, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, the fluffiest smut I've ever written
WC: 3.2k
Divider credit to @saradika-graphics
You hated Eddie Munson.
You hated the way he sloppily cut the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt in an obvious attempt to show off his tattoos.
You hated the way he couldn’t keep a secret, always forgetting that they were supposed to be secrets in the first place. That’s how he’d spoiled your surprise birthday party.
You hated the way he constantly sabotaged his own success. One would think he’d take you up on your offer to do homework together after his first failed senior year; instead, he’d practiced guitar riffs while you pored over your algebra textbook. Needless to say, he didn’t pass that year, either.
You hated Eddie Munson and everything about him.
And right now, you particularly hated the way he sat across the bar, talking to another girl and occasionally taking a sip of his drink.
That used to be you, your fingers laced with his while he told you stories you’d heard one hundred times before. He’d bring your hand to his lips and kiss it, his lips curving into a smile before they even touched your skin.
“I can’t believe you’re mine. Never gonna let you go, y’know that? You’re stuck with me forever.”
That ‘forever’ ended four years ago, when you went off to college and he needed to stay behind to finish high school. Cracks began showing as early as application season, the fracture complete once you decided to go to Northwestern without even considering Hawkins Community.
“I don’t understand why you’d wanna go to that big, fancy school anyway. It’ll just be a bunch of rich preps and douchey frat guys guzzling beers through their assholes.”
You refrained from reminding him that he and Jeff had almost tried that same feat, and probably would have if you didn’t intervene.
“Babe, it’s an amazing school. And I’ll be home on holidays and you can visit whenever you want.”
Even as you’d said it, you knew it wasn’t enough for him. It was a pulled thread in your tight-knit relationship, one that unraveled it throughout the summer. And just one week into your first semester, Eddie had uttered those dreaded words into the phone.
“I don’t think this long-distance thing is gonna work out.”
That was that. The end of you and Eddie.
Now, in that dimly lit bar, you tore your gaze from him and his date. Your drink shook in your trembling hand as you lifted it to your lips.
Robin clocked your uneasiness, her eyes flicking over to where you’d been looking. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at you with nothing but sympathy. “You wanna get outta here?”
You gave your friend a grateful smile, but ultimately declined. “We just got our drinks.” You gestured to her barely-sipped rum and Coke. “We can go once we’re done.”
The two of you forged ahead with a conversation, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Eddie and his date. Maybe it was the vodka making you more emotional, but tears pricked at your lash line when you saw him lean in and kiss her.
“A-Actually, maybe we should leave.” You were only halfway done with your drink, but the thought of staying and continuing to watch him had you ready to hurl it all up.
Robin nodded, grabbing her purse and closing out the tab. When she turned back to you, she froze.
“What?”
“He’s looking at you.”
And dammit if your heart didn’t flip-flop. You did your best to ignore it, ignore the spark of hope it gave you.
“He’s…” Your words caught in your throat. “C’mon, let’s just go.”
You couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Eddie holding someone else’s hand flashed through your mind every time you closed your eyes. And the way he’d leaned in to kiss her, like he’d done it one thousand times before—it gnawed at you from the inside out.
Tears slid down your cheeks and seeped into your pillowcase. You would have gone to the ends of the Earth to make that relationship work, while Eddie threw in the towel after just one week. You’d called him up in the dorm’s common room, expecting to talk to him about your day.
Instead, you’d gotten dumped via phone call.
You gave up on falling asleep around 4:30 AM. Padding into the kitchen, you brewed yourself a cup of coffee and poured it into your favorite mug. Steam tickled your nose as you took a sip, savoring the cocoa notes and the bitterness you craved that morning. Last night’s events came rushing back as soon as the caffeine hit your bloodstream. Eddie. The girl. The way he looked at her…did he ever look at you that way? It was bizarre seeing it from a different perspective.
The morning air was already humid, summer’s heat seemingly always unrelenting. You stretched out your legs on the steps of your front stoop, letting your muscles unclench as you breathed in a new day.
It was just you, a smattering of chirping birds, and…a car rumbling down the street?
Hawkins was not a busy enough town for people to be driving down your sleepy street at this hour, and it wasn’t garbage day.
From around the corner came a familiar van. Your heart lurched in your chest when it came to a stop in front of your house. No. There was no way. Someone else in town must have the same exact van as him…with the same exact dent in the driver’s side door from when he’d opened it into a tree…
You scrambled to your feet, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and onto the cement below you.
“Hey, wait!” Eddie called out from his open window. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans, no doubt borrowed from his uncle. Killing the ignition, he hustled over to you before you could get through the door. “I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
Eddie shook his head and blew out a breath. “Look, I just…I wanted to tell you this at the bar, but you ran off–”
“So you came to my house?” You rolled your eyes. “Not creepy at all.”
He ran a hand through his curls. It was then that you noticed the missing rings, the skin slightly paler where they normally wrapped around his fingers. He tracked your gaze and looked at you with a bashful smile.
“Can’t wear them at the plant. I gotta tie my hair back, too.” He slid a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulled back his frizzy mane, scrunching up his nose. “Always gives me a headache, though.”
You felt your guard slipping with each word he spoke. “It’s probably just too tight.” Without thinking, you gently tugged the rubber band farther from his scalp. “Better?”
“Yeah.” His voice was soft. Tender. Everything you remembered it to be back when things were good. “Please…can we talk?”
Despite your lingering heartbreak–or perhaps because of it–you nodded.
Eddie’s shoulders sagged in premature relief; the difficult part still laid ahead of him. “I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep last night. Not after seeing you.” When his hand brushed against yours, you instinctively pulled away.
“No.” You held your ground as best as you could. “No, Eddie. You don’t get to touch me anymore. Especially not when you were the one with another woman.”
“Technically, so were you.” The joke fell flat, and he cleared his throat. “All right, fine. It was a second date with someone I met last week at the Hideout. Not someone I’m committed to.”
“Right. Because if you were committed to her, you’d just break up with her on the phone.”
Eddie reeled back, your retort a sucker-punch right to his gut. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before speaking again. “You don’t understand how hard it was for me,” he finally said, “to know you were far away, surrounded by a bunch of smart guys, while I was in my sixth year of high school.”
“I didn’t care about that—”
“But I did!” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “God, I could just picture the conversations you’d have with your new friends: ‘Eddie? He doesn’t go here; he’s still in high school. No, he’s not younger than me. He’s actually a year older. He’s just an idiot.’”
A huff escaped your lips. “I’d never say that!” Did he actually think you’d even consider it?
“But you could’ve!” He scraped a tooth against his lower lip. “It would’ve been the truth!”
“Except you’re not an idiot,” you protested. “And throwing yourself a pity party isn’t going to make me feel bad for you.”
You downed what remained of your coffee, now only lukewarm.
“No, I know. I know.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and shut his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. Please, can we just go inside?”
No. The answer sat right on your tongue. And yet you found yourself opening the door and letting him in.
Eddie sat down on the couch, making sure to leave enough space for you. He sighed when you remained standing, but began speaking again nevertheless.
“I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. And I know that’s not enough,” he rushed to add before you could say it yourself, “but I need you to know that I have. I wanted to call you a million times, but I always talked myself out of it. Figured it would just make you angrier.”
“You could’ve at least apologized.” You didn’t bother hiding the hurt in your voice; that façade had long since passed.
He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” When he looked at you, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I never got to see your dorm room, or meet your new friends, or watch you walk that stage at graduation. I…”
Eddie was fully sobbing on your sofa, wiping his cheeks with calloused palms. “And I’m sorry that I still love you. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go.”
He’d laid it all on the table for you, not hiding a single card in his hand. His gaze was raw with vulnerability; it seared into the hardened ice encasing your heart.
“When I saw you at the bar last night…when I saw you looking at me…” Eddie let out a huff of air. “Maybe I was just getting my hopes up, but it felt like a part of you might still love me, too.”
And as that realization unraveled, as it unfurled like a flower finally blooming after winter’s frost, you found yourself nodding in agreement.
All at once, Eddie stood in front of you. “Please say it,” he whispered, delicately cupping your face in his hands. “I need to hear you say it. Only if you mean it.”
“I still love you.” Your nose grazed his. “I don’t want to, but I do.”
“You don’t want to because I broke your heart?” When you answered in the affirmative, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “What if I promise that I’ll never break your heart again? What if I promise that it’s always been you?”
Your voice was soft, barely audible, when you told him, “Prove it.”
Eddie’s lips found yours, a magnetic pull that hadn’t weakened in the nearly four years you’d spent apart. “Course I’ll prove it,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Spend the rest of my goddamn life proving it.”
His hands slid up underneath your shirt, a ratty old tee reserved strictly for bedtime. There was no time to worry about it being the least sexy article of clothing you had; before you knew it, Eddie tugged it over your head and tossed it aside. He whimpered as he grabbed your breast, circling the nipple with his thumb.
You’d only gotten two of his flannel buttons undone when you stopped. “Eddie, wait—don’t you have to go to work?”
Eddie laughed, his breath tickling your neck over the spot he’d been kissing. “I’ll just have to be late. Got something…more important to attend to.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, the two of you peeling off each other’s clothes until they lay in a heap on the floor. And then there was just you and Eddie, touching everywhere you could.
“Baby.” The word was slurred, given the fact that his tongue was currently occupied with your nipples, your skin shining where his saliva remained. “Baby…fuck, I missed you.”
He was painfully hard, the tip of his cock flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, pumping him in a painfully slow rhythm.
“Oh—ah!” Eddie hissed, steadying himself at your sudden touch. “F-Fuck, I—y-you can’t…too sensitive.”
You looked at him incredulously. “Already?”
Eddie nodded sheepishly. “You know how much I thought about this? Every time I…y’know…I imagined it was you.”
Just the mental picture of Eddie laying back in his bed, tugging on his cock while moaning your name, had you dragging him to the couch. No time to go all the way to the bedroom.
The moment Eddie climbed on top of you as you lay on the cushions, his fingers drifted down to where you needed him most. His middle finger, then his ring finger, slid inside you with practiced precision. Picking up right where you’d left off.
You clenched around him, your body greedy for more as his fingers moved in and out, in and out.
“Eddie…” Just that one word was an effort; every brain cell focused only on the pleasure building between your thighs. “Eddie…Eddie…please…”
He nodded, his tongue darting out and swiping over his lower lip. “I remembered how much you love my fingers.”
It was true; his fingers were nothing less than magic. He swore it was because he played guitar, and maybe that was part of it, but the real reason was because he had you memorized. Knew exactly where to curl his fingers, exactly how to stroke your sweet spot until your legs were shaking.
“You’re…you’re drenched.” He wasn’t cocky; he was awestruck. Absolutely shocked that you were so needy for him, that you’d missed his touch as much as he’d missed yours. “Gonna take care of you, baby, okay?”
You inhaled a staggered breath and melted into the couch. Eddie held total and complete control over you, and it surprisingly didn’t scare you in the least.
The last thread of restraint snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves. You cried out Eddie’s name. It was him bringing you to a new level of ecstasy. It was him giving you everything you could ever want.
His movements slowed to let you float down from the high. His fingers were slick with your arousal, and he popped them in his mouth with a content sigh.
“Tastes so sweet.”
God, you needed him. Needed him to fill you entirely. Needed him to clear your mind of any thought besides how good he made you feel. Needed him to hold you down and take whatever he desired.
Your gaze dropped down to his erection. Eddie followed your eyes, then looked back at you.
“D-Do you…?” He trailed off before composing himself. “I mean, is it okay if I—”
“Yes.” There was no other possible answer. There was nothing else you could possibly want besides that connection, that intimacy, with the man you could never stop loving. “Please.”
Eddie obliged without hesitation. He angled himself with your entrance, pushing into you so slowly that it teetered on agonizing. You knew it would feel good; it always had, even that first awkward time together. But this was something else entirely.
It was as though a missing puzzle piece clicked into place, unlocking everything you had stowed away over the last four years without him. Tears lazily flowed down your cheeks, but before you had time to be embarrassed, Eddie kissed them away.
“S’okay,” he murmured, continuing to thrust into you with utmost care. “You’re okay, baby.”
You managed a smile as you navigated the influx of emotions. You were okay. You were with Eddie again, safe in his arms, his touch both electrifying and soothing.
All that was left to do was sink into it.
You accepted his love, wrapping yourself in it and savoring every morsel. One of your hands found his cheek, your thumb grazing over the hint of stubble he missed when shaving. His kisses were oxygen itself, breathing life into every cell in your body. Everything was Eddie. Everything was okay again.
And then you started to giggle. It was discreet at first, but then it bubbled over until your smile was too wide to ignore. Eddie couldn’t even kiss you without his lips touching your teeth.
“Babe?” He cocked his head, examining you as laughter floated out of you.
“Sorry.” Another peal of laughter. “I’m…I’m just so happy.”
Eddie grinned, ducking to kiss your neck. “Me, too. Me fucking too, baby.”
There was the ebb and flow, the give and take, the push and pull. You and Eddie, working in tandem to bring the other to their climax.
Your orgasm blossomed deep within you. You dug your fingernails into Eddie’s back and wrapped your legs around his to draw him closer.
“Ed-Eddie, I’m…” Your hips raised to meet his, filling in where your words failed.
Eddie nodded and gently kissed your lips. “I know, sweet girl. Just let go for me.”
And so you did. With a cry of his name, you came. You let yourself unravel right there on the couch, and before long, he was joining you.
“Baby, baby, baby.” He let out a groan as he spilled into you, giving you every last drop. His chest rose and fell as he withdrew and caught his breath, though he kept his hands on you the whole time. Like you might disappear if he let go.
You reached up to smooth back a lock of his hair. You needed to look into his eyes, no obstructions, when you asked him the question weighing heavily on your heart.
“Where do we go from here?”
Eddie flinched, clearly not expecting such a candid remark right after sex. He shook off his shock and replaced it with a smirk.
“I say we shower off first.” His nose brushed yours and he kissed you once again. “And then I’d like to take you to breakfast once the diner opens. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”
You gazed up at him, taking in the chest muscles that had filled out with the addition of manual labor.
A shower and a breakfast date. It was a plan—maybe not like the ones you made, where every moment was perfectly laid out. And it was more than Eddie’s usual fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants demeanor. It was somewhere in the middle. A new equilibrium.
“That sounds perfect.”
--
#requests#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson smut#smut
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you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!
you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.
but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.
so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.
part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.
any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.
(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)
good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.
so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)
you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.
okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.
oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.
#spilled ink#writeblr#warm up#the reason i tag warm up on so much is bc often i write them between me doing other things so im mostly telling myself to come back and edi#bc i rarely have time to check for typos lol#this is partially about compulsory heterosexuality btw#and why it took me so long to realize im a lesbian#i just assumed sex wasn't really supposed to be that good#been reading feminist lit and u can always tell
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