#Without even the slightest guitar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stargirlfics · 2 months

Text

So Much Goddamn Talkin’

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes Joel has to quiet the noise in your head. Luckily he’s quite good at that.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post outbreak—Jackson era, mutual pining, friends to lovers vibe, established relationship, some mentions of anxiety, feelings and fluff, competency kink, soft dom!joel vibes, smut: oral (both receiving), fingering, soft intense PiV, unprotected sex, praise kink, daddy kink, come marking

*reader is written and described as black but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!

Word Count: 6k

Currently obsessed with the thought of older, domestic Joel in a relationship and couldn’t stop myself from getting carried away! Enjoy!

It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d ever spoken to Joel.

On the contrary, what had started as a timid friendship became something else entirely with one spontaneous kiss that only the stars bore witness to that night.

A silly dream of romance had landed right in your lap despite the crumbling of the old world behind you, taking everything with it and yet they took your breath away constantly, like a whirlwind, two grounding anchors were now tethered to your heart and their names were Joel and Ellie.

So why were you so nervous?

Sighing softly, you decided to blame it on the watchful glances Joel was giving you from across the yard, distracting you from the book you were reading. Eye contact with him could feel like the most searing heat, spreading like wildfire and at the same time the deepest depths of comfort.

Not always being a man of many words, the things he could express with a simple look or the weight of a hand fascinated you, made you fall so dangerously hard and with a certainty you’d never felt before.

Therefore you reasoned it simply couldn’t be your fault for being distracted and wanting him so much right now. Not when he made you feel this way without even having to try very hard.

You just needed to take a moment to soak it all in, a blooming hope carried in on the breeze now that it was the beginning of spring in Jackson, the wildflowers and planted seeds starting to sprout, and the soil and your own souls teeming with life after so long spent just surviving. Now there was space for healing.

Space for you to sit in the rocking chair Joel had worked on for months as a birthday present to you, or watch him get around to all the house projects (because once a contractor always a contractor) and strum out the prettiest chords on his guitar late in the evenings out on the porch.

This felt more like living and you never wasted a moment to covet it.

“You’re doing an awful lot of staring, Miller.” You looked up from the same page for the fifth time to catch him already looking your way.

He blinked and put another nail into the wood post he was working on.

“Hm, well damn right I am when you look the way you do. Now if I told you it’s been at least ten minutes since you’ve turned a page in that book you just might have to admit you’ve been starin’ too.”

There was that little smirk you knew so well, dancing on his lips as if he knew just how much it would drive you crazy, the confirmation that you hadn’t been subtle in the slightest either.

“Well, you’re out here giving me a show.” You make a point to turn to the next page then, looking away before he could throw you a look at the sass in your tone.

He was right of course but what he didn’t know was that reading had started all this to begin with.

The tattered novel had been a surprise find on a patrol one day and came with an unexpected eroticism, bits of dialogue and tantalizing imagery on the page you were stuck on making your mind wander and wonder.

It’s why you felt a little nervous, caught off guard, suddenly wishing you were in bed and underneath him.

He flashes his teeth at you, that smirk widening into a smile at your reply, his attention returning to the tools in his hands but your own continued to linger. Remembering.

A few nights before in particular, when he was fucking into you so deep you had to bite the sheets to keep your moans down. You could still picture the definition of his arms as they cradled you and kept the headboard from colliding into the wall at the same time.

Or how good you knew it felt when his broad palms swat across your ass, never failing to make you yield to him with such eagerness.

You wished you could have your hands on him now, petting, feeling, showing him how much he was desired and cared for, how much you wanted to be filled by him, stretched out and aching with nothing but his name in your mind and on the tip of your tongue for hours.

Those stray thoughts had you turning back a page, leaning into the slow burning fire lit underneath you.

Still unsure of how to initiate these desires, you didn’t want to distract him from something he’d been trying to get around to doing for awhile and at the same time felt a thrill at the idea of tugging him away, leading him to bed.

With some hesitation you decided to bide your time for a bit longer, getting caught up in words that made you squirm imagining Joel doing and saying them.

God, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could keep up, feeling the slick pooling of arousal between your thighs, the way you wanted to grind against nothing already.

Joel finished repairing the post in no time and moved on to patch up a hole in the wall of the old shed, unaware of your internal dilemma.

Eventually he gathered up his tools and stored them away, told you he was gonna head in and wash up but that you should keep relaxing out here for as long as you wanted and he’d get started on preparing things for dinner later.

He left you with a kiss to your temple and the lingering familiarity of his touch. Handsome and sweet, he was going to be the death of you.

Your mind felt too restless to keep sitting but you took him up on the suggestion just for awhile longer, trying to find the right way to move things in the direction you wanted. Family dinner wasn’t for another four hours and Ellie would be here a bit early but there was still time and you wanted to make the most of it.

So you finished off another chapter and finally closed the novel, ushered inside with the echo of birdsongs and the steady thumping of your heart in your ribs.

–

Joel had been so sure you hadn’t noticed his repeated stares as much as he’d noticed yours, bowing his head under the warm spray of the shower he could only think of how pretty you looked sitting there while he worked, fond of the fact that you liked to be next to him even if he was occupied.

At first he couldn’t wrap his head around it and was almost too unnerved and bewildered by the fact that you took such an interest.

Not at all used to someone touching him or looking at him like he was their entire world but that’s the only way you looked at him and as much as he had tried to be measured, tried not to get attached, he had come around to the idea of a relationship again.

Loving people was frightening, something he felt he’d lost the ability to do properly after all these years, all the blood staining his hands and his conscience.

He had lost so much, seen too much death and feared he would only bring ruin, that he would lose her too, until you came along and turned everything he thought he knew on its head.

Oh what secrets and stories of loss he had told you in the quiet of night, when old nightmares and new guilts collided and kept him from sleeping though that was much less these days now that you slept by his side every night.

It had been a long time since he’d shared his bed and now it made him smile thinking of how natural it felt to wake up next to you, how easy it was to be around you, in the quiet moments he could see how the foundations you’d both built together had been made solid and steadfast over time.

Silly to think how he fretted over ruining his friendship with you all that time ago, the way everyone was sick of him in the days leading up to when he would finally ask if you were interested because they all knew he had nothing to worry about and those worries in his head were swiftly put to rest when you tugged at his shirt to pull him closer and asked what had taken him so long.

He’d never forget that moment.

Joel thought then that this was the moment he knew but quickly learned there would actually be a collection of moments–several times a day–that would remind him just how hooked on you he really was.

Like the times he showed his age and your sweet giggles and clever retorts always followed soon after, or how much he’s come to love the summertime because your brown skin basked in the sunlight is like art to him and he relishes every chance he gets to see you exactly as you are.

You brought a fullness and meaning to life here, encouraging him to slow down, to breathe. Taking care of one another made him stronger, nourished in ways he didn’t think were possible.

“Honey.”

He grits the word out like he’s trying to call you up here, reminded of how lucky he felt to have you, to be so connected.

Watching you walk around batting your eyes acting like you don’t know that it’s the pretty, round edges of your nose, the smile lines, the plush of your hips and that glowing thing inside you beating in your chest that drives him crazy.

Simply put, he was impressed by you. Constantly. You could handle yourself, skilled in your own right, already handy with weapons long before he was in your life and even more proficient now, deadly, with the things he’d taught you since.

You were resourceful and calm in tricky situations or when quick medical training was needed and yet none of the carnage of infected and worse terrors ever changed the soft way you tended to people, almost like you couldn’t help but give a little extra love.

And you had certainly spared many an ounce of that love for him; he’d forgotten how good it felt to smile this much over someone, can’t remember the last time he felt this way and definitely can’t remember the last time he’s seen his Ellie look at someone with such admiration either.

Everything about you captured his attention and he was grateful to be able to live some sort of life again after so much heartache, after believing he could never have these kinds of things for himself.

Those hands of his could scorch the Earth but you made him understand they could build things too, could show love and give pleasure just as well and just as fiercely.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of it.

All he knew was that he never wanted to let you go and that was enough for him.

–

When you venture into the bedroom you find him getting dressed, hair tousled from being towel dried, another wave of aching bloomed in your core as you thank yourself for having nudged him into letting it grow out a bit during the colder months.

He looked so handsome doing nothing at all in particular you were sure you’d implode if you didn’t just come out with it, you just hope he wouldn’t mind doing some undressing again.

“Hey, honey.”

His voice was low and gentle, the familiar pet name in his usual smooth rasp made you stride forward, sending you surging into his arms so that you were squished against his chest. He tilted his head at you just slightly in question before you were pressing your lips to his.

Your mouths met so tenderly at first, fingertips bursting with a nervous energy as they reached for his shirt, grasping needily as you lost yourself in the slow ease of the way he kissed you back.

But a little spark of anxiety makes you tense, overthinking the kiss, feeling a little silly for just how turned on you were, how much he could see it written all over you, dripping quite literally in desperation even if you tried to reason with yourself that you knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

“J-Joel…shit,” you whined and huffed through sloppy kisses, slowly finding yourself being walked backwards and held firm against the closest wall, “Oh…we don’t have to do this if-”

“The hell are you goin’ on about?” Joel grumbled against the column of your neck and all ability to articulate went out the window.

Rationally you knew it was a pretty good indication he wasn’t bothered by the spontaneity from the way those strong hands of his were already underneath your shirt, pinching almost in the haste to grip your flesh but you were already overthinking and it held persistent.

“Just…if you’re tired, I understand. We can wait till tonight. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Your words were huffed out in nervous gasps, trying to will your knees not buckle when his scruff teased a swipe across your jaw.

Joel pulled back then so you’d have to look at him, knowing the anxious flit of your lashes well.

He knew what to watch for, patient when you needed reassurance that you were free to run wild with your desires, that he was never tired of having you bare and wrapped around him at any hour of the day but this was of no consequence, he’d make sure you knew where he stood.

Shaking his head, he doesn’t give you more than a moment to suck in a breath before his hands leave your waist to hold your face.

“So much goddamn talkin’, sweetheart,” the words are a heavy growl against your lips in between heavier kisses, “Think I need to remind you of some things and put those thoughts out of your mind, yeah?”

Your whole body felt hot, flushed with desire and aching for whatever he was going to do to remind you, nodding before your tongue could catch up with your agreeing thoughts.

“Let me show you.” Joel caged you in against the wall, broad shoulders blocking everything else out.

The steady rise and fall of his chest became your focal point and new arousal sparked at his attentiveness, so easily able to soothe, to make you unravel for him.

“Please, I want you so much.” Your softly sighed plea turned into a whine when you were crushed to his chest again and this time there were no reservations to the embrace.

He was so good at this, making you burn for him so often you wondered sometimes how you were able to get anything done.

Hungry fingers pushed the collar of his flannel back, jeans already unbuttoned for your wandering attention to latch onto and he encouraged it with a push of his hips against yours.

It’s an easy movement, dropping to your knees like you’ve done a hundred times before to see how just a simple kiss already had him stiff and straining against denim, teasing the kind of thickness you so badly wanted to fill your throat with.

Your mouth watered, fingers outstretched to wrap around hot skin the moment his cock was free, unable to stop yourself now. Joel’s rough sigh following the steady pump of your hands made you glance up, meeting the intensity of his gaze and you held it there for a moment before your tongue was tasting him.

“Look at you...already have it in your mouth like the quick learner you are,” He hissed through his teeth and you could feel where he throbs against the hollow of your cheek.

Pride swells in your chest from the praise, knowing the tone of his voice meant the restrained edge of patience from letting you tease him back was slipping.

You could feel it in the flex of muscle underneath your hands where they’re braced on his thighs and you hoped he was proud watching your lips stretch around him, head bobbing nice and easy the way you know he liked it.

You’re unconcerned with being neat about it, slicking him up with your mouth and still trying to take him deeper, trying to take all of him in fact.

You liked to flirt with dreams of your nose being pressed snug against Joel’s pelvis, wanted to feel him through your entire chest even if burned because there was sweetness in being deprived of oxygen like that. Call it an unwavering trust.

You gave in to the feeling and kept your eyes focused upwards on him, trying to relax your jaw despite all the anticipation, happy to let him take control.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. Stay just like that.”

Listening is hardly even a thought when you’ve hung onto his every word, every movement, not minding the strain in your jaw as he rocked his hips into the wet heat of your mouth. Tongue swirling over his shaft, the thick head of him, desperate to earn it, to make him curse and growl out your name.

The pressure of his fingers against your jaw and then the back of your head had you moaning, trying to speak while he fucks your mouth.

“P-please, make me take it.” Your heart lept with each languid thrust of his hips sliding deep so he could feel the softening of your throat.

He’d give you whatever you asked for when you whimpered like that.

Firm and sweet was his grip, raspy grunts and cursed out praises that flowed from his mouth even sweeter to your ears as your tongue slid over the soft, sensitive head of his cock and back down the length of him.

You’re insatiable and any anxious thoughts still rattling around in your mind were quickly fading, replaced with his touch, his smell, his taste. The salty smear on your taste buds had you pressing your thighs together, craving relief.

“Good girl, yeah that’s it. Startin’ to understand now, sweetheart?”

Your head tipped forward and the only response you could give was a heady moan, doing your best to nod knowing how much he’d like seeing that, the tears already welling along your lashes from the effort but you didn’t mind.

Knowing you made him tip his head back, a heavy palm braced against the wall above your head while he grunted out curses and filthier praise made you feel a dozen more times ravenous, encouraging him to keep going with sloppy, wet whimpers that were barely held back from your kiss swollen lips, stretched over every thick inch of him you could take.

“Love watching you choke on it, honey. Fuck that's good, show me how much you can fit.”

The sight of him is something you hoped to never forget, searching for and finding the slight snarl of his lips when the tip hits the back of your mouth and the flex of his biceps when you slide your tongue around to lick the underside of him.

Joel could barely hold himself back, the urge to bury himself in your throat almost overwhelming but he wanted more than that, he wanted to reward you for listening so well, for how much you make him feel.

It had been building all day and he knew you had to feel it too. He was loath to pull you off his cock, an ache through his chest at your desperate cries from the loss of contact but he was quick to remedy that with a searing kiss.

You melt and are grateful your knees are already on the floor when your tongue meets his. It was so messy, hungry and neither of you cared.

“Get on the bed. Go on, darlin’.” Joel’s voice sounded like warm syrup, covering you in adoring instruction, taking you and leading you where he knows is best.

And god do you love when he was in this mood, nothing but a filthy edge to his affections.

So you complied, ignoring the twinge in your tummy as you moved to the bed, sprawling out across sheets that smell like the both of you.

He watches you get comfortable, loosening a few buttons and those jeans finally discarded on the floor before the distance is closed and he’s all over you.

Every touch and caress was intentional as he undresses like he’s unwrapping a present, greedy for all of you but so passionate, so easily able to steal your breath at the same time, slowing down the tempo now that your legs have fallen open and there’s nothing left covering you.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy…and she’s all mine.” Joel admires you for a moment, firm hands tickling your thighs while his thumbs circled the soft, sensitive junction of your thigh so close to where you wanted him most.

The praise has you sighing breathlessly, peeking down to see the way he was looking at where you glisten, a sureness to his features that made you feel safe all while the clench of his jaw sent goosebumps across your arms.

You want to echo that he’s right but he doesn’t let you have the chance, a broad palm sliding down over the hair covering your mound, tugging at it gently before two thick fingers are swirling over your folds.

Muscles jolting, you were rocking up into a touch that is so expert and familiar you are helpless against it.

“Joel, oh! That feels so good,” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath while your body responds to the tight circles he was rubbing against your clit.

“Yeah? ‘Can tell. You’re so slick, honey. Did suckin’ me off get you this worked up?”

Your nod is pure reflex, hips grinding against his movements needing to chase the pleasure that was slowly oozing its way into your system.

It’s only something he can do and he’s so steady, so thorough with you even as you squirm, those two fingers now stroking at your entrance eliciting sounds that sparked heat in your cheeks and spread down to your chest.

You want to be as connected to him as you can, almost pleading for him to sink inside you already just desperate to feel completely surrounded by him.

And Joel can’t seem to grasp enough of you under his hands, gone for the way you cling to him as he fits his middle finger inside, marveling at the way your walls take him in.

He would never get over your strangled little cry at being stretched around his knuckles.

“I asked a question, lemme hear you.” He spoke a little more loosely, his Texan drawl slightly heavier now.

“Yes, yes,” you’re remembering yourself after a moment, “Fuck, yes I love sucking your dick.”

The words are shameless, falling from your lips as a promise, a proclamation that you know he feels the weight of when he leans in to kiss you again, muffling your sounds while he slides a second finger in alongside the first that’s filling you so perfectly.

Any concept of time or day is somewhere in the background muted, far away and suddenly you know you’re right where you should be, right where you belong, no traces of anxious thoughts lurking any longer.

You could sink into these sensations now, enjoying how his kisses had moved to your neck exploring the sensitive spots and smiling against your skin when a new one is found because he loves feeling you clench around him when he does.

It’s a gift to Joel, being able to draw out this kind of bliss in you.

He wanted you to feel good, wanted to be the one to make your world shatter and then piece it back together again when you came down to the ground.

Your eyes rolled shut when he plunged deeper, the pads of his fingers massaging at your walls in tandem with what his mouth was doing between the valley of your chest and further down to where your stomach fluttered.

Somewhere in the haze of it all you realize his mouth was at your thighs, the white hot touch of his lips closing around a stretch of supple flesh bringing another wave of heat before he’s licking gently, bruising a mark into your skin that only he will know is there later.

“I could spend hours like this, you know that? Could have you makin’ such a pretty mess all over my hands, all over our bed…and I know you love when I do this.” Joel husks before he’s finally tasting you properly.

He starts at your clit, tongue flattened against you in anticipation of the inevitable flex of your legs, determined to keep you right where he wants and you’re already so far gone for him and this moment that your head tilts back against the pillows in a gasp.

You feel almost weightless as you succumb to the pleasure and how he presses his mouth into your pussy like he wants to devour it. You’re sure you’d let him swallow you whole if it kept feeling like this.

It’s not even a question really, you know you would, until you’re between sinew and bone and part of him forever.

The plunge and curl of his fingers combined with the flick of his tongue had you panting, heat skittering across your body while your hips circled on their own accord.

“More! Please, Joel!” It’s a chant and a sob all rolled in one and you don’t care how needy it sounds.

He keeps going, lapping at your sex greedily until you’re clenching down around his fingers and your toes are curling, crying out for him not to stop as you hurtle towards the cliff’s edge.

Skin dewy and alive, you decide that you don’t want to spare anything, not when he’s watching you as hungrily as he eats.

You give him all your sounds, all your pleas, handing him your body and your heart at once.

It’s amazing how it doesn’t take long for him to have you so close, right at the precipice, forgoing his own breaths to keep pace, to give you what your body is singing out for and when you finally let go, when your orgasm is finally coaxed from you he only presses his face into you further, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could in hopes of seeing that soft sweet look in your eyes afterwards.

“Attagirl, doin so well.” The words are a tether.

He’d take care of you and that’s perhaps what made it so easy to surrender yourself to the passion of the moment knowing it would linger long after you were both spent.

“Mmm you should see yourself right now,” Joel hummed, licking his lips while you attempted to catch your breath, “I always want you, don’t forget that yeah?”

The last part catches your attention through the curtain of bliss, a serious shift in his tone telling you that he meant every word; you had no reason to second guess yourself over your desires and he was making sure of that.

You nodded and sat up to reach for him, nevermind how you still trembled, your desire to be close to him was stronger than ever now.

“I need you, Joel! Please, I’ve been so good…” Your words tug at him, you can tell they do by the way he ruts his hips against the edge of the bed.

He crushed his mouth to yours before you could finish speaking, a much welcome relief, the burning flame inside you quelled for a moment.

“Sure have been, honey and I think good girls should be rewarded.” He nipped at your ear, stealing your breath with his words.

And even further when his flannel joined his jeans on the floor, climbing back onto the bed to follow the path of your body with his own, framing your limbs and wrapping you up in his embrace like you were made to fit against his chest.

Your legs fall open again to wrap around his waist as he settles some of his weight down against your hips, just giving you a taste, calling back memories and reminding you, funnily enough, of that novel you were reading earlier.

It felt like you were suddenly amongst the pages, chest heaving, your core tender and dripping as the man of your dreams was about to show you how much you’re his in every way.

Fairytales didn’t exist in this world but you felt like you were in one right now.

A giddy and timid smile spread across your face when Joel trailed warm hands down your body, catching on the bend of your elbow, wrapping around your ribcage to settle on the crest of your ass as he puts more of his weight down and uses his shoulders to nudge your legs apart and back towards your chest.

The air felt thicker but your breathing seemed to even out, everything in your body thrumming with energy and an intensity neither of you could ignore any longer.

Reaching down between your bodies you wrap a hand around where he’s thick and throbbing, guiding him closer with a soft smile, feeling how heavy he hangs in your hand, fingers pinching his skin when he rocks against your folds, the dirty sounds of his cock gliding through your stickiness.

Joel groans against your forehead, holding himself steady as your hips buck into his touch, the tip pressing against your entrance and finally, slowly, sinking inside.

Your moans are twined together in the quiet room. The stretch makes you keen, hands fumbling and grasping at strong shoulders, grateful he lets you have a moment to adjust.

But it’s not long before you’re squirming again, whining for him to go deeper, to fill you to the hilt and he made good on his promises to do exactly that.

He keeps your hips tilted up with the press of his palm underneath you, meeting little resistance the more he splits you open and it does something to him to see how much of a mess you are and he’s barely fucked you yet.

“You can do it, know you can…there you go.” Joel pulls back to give a shallow thrust, lips brushing your temple and a hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

The drag of his cock against your walls was everything, steady thrusts building up the tension coiling in your belly, fantasies from your novel melding with reality.

You felt like you were floating, your toes pointing when he changed the angle, brushing against a spot that had you crying out, ankles trying to lock around his torso.

Pressing heavier and faster with his hips however, your legs stay spread, the beginnings of a tremble rippling through your muscles now that he’s caught on.

His pace remained measured and deep, just the way you were begging for it, and he’s content to watch your brows pinch, your jaw slacken, content to hear every gasp of air and pretty sobs mixed in with your moans driving him crazy every time they slip from clenched teeth.

“Shit, I love watching you take me like this.” He cooed.

You can feel the heavy slap of his balls colliding with your ass when he pounds into you again and soon your hands slip from sweaty skin, scratching down his chest to pull at the sheets, so overwhelmed with feeling but never wanting it to stop.

“Daddy...Please, please keep going.”

You’re so caught up in the moment you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud, glassy eyes moving up from where you were trying to peek between your bodies to meet Joel’s careful gaze, only half registering how they widen for a moment.

He’s taken aback for just a second, almost questioning whether he heard it correctly but something’s been knocked loose within him now, his cock twitching from the reverence and adoration in your tone, bestowing him with a title he suddenly wanted to earn.

Joel was a grown man and had lived through many hells to be able to have you bare and underneath him like this, he reasoned he deserved to have a little fun in the bedroom especially when he hadn’t expected to be so affected.

“Ah so that’s what you’ve been reading in that book of yours. Just wanted Daddy to fuck you all day is that it, sweetheart? Yeah, I gotcha now.” He rasped low against the crook of your neck and started to fuck you harder.

His grip on you was less gentle but still just as passionate, the force of his thrusts stealing your ability to think properly. He wanted to make you say it again.

The burning in your cheeks only subsided a little at his acceptance, more heat flooding you from head to toe at being called out, wondering how he knew it was something you read in your novel, if it had been that obvious.

It didn’t matter now, you see where his dark eyes have narrowed, ready to make you come again with this newfound discovery.

So you try and be good for him while you moan and clench down on his length, your pussy swollen and aching but tingling for everything he could give you, “Yes, daddy! Just…oh! I couldn’t help it. Thank you, daddy!”

He knows you’re close, a familiar frenzy to your breathing, the slick wet sounds between your legs, it’s everything he dreams of and more, torn between watching your face as you come or watching the way his cock shines with your release.

With a few more strokes and the soft rubbing of his thumb against your clit you shatter, face pressing against the meat of his shoulder while you ride it out, feeling weightless in his embrace.

It makes you giggle when you can’t keep your head up any longer, neck lolling back against the pillow where he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you in place as he finds his own release swiftly after yours, pulling out to cover your puffy folds in hot ropes of his come.

You would never tire of being made a mess, even if you knew you’d be sore tomorrow, nothing quite ever beat the feeling of being fucked out like the way Joel could have you.

“Baby…” you’re breathless and bursting with emotion, “Thank you for that. Think I really needed it,” You laugh against his chest and sigh.

You’re almost too nervous still to look at him after your slip of the tongue but you know deep down there’s nothing you have to be worried about.

“Of course, honey. Anytime, and I mean that.”

–

You’re not sure how much time has passed, drifting in and out of a dreamy slumber still cradled against Joel, only now you realize you’ve been cleaned up and tucked under the covers but you don’t mind, you know you can simply lay here and soak it all in, he would take care of you.

Racing thoughts no longer buzz around in your head, all you can feel and see is Joel and you smile to yourself knowing the intimacy you just shared still lingered in your body, love etched in your fingertips where they’re laced in his hand against his stomach.

His lips press against your temple and you close your eyes again letting yourself be swept away with the sweet drawl of an “I love you.” in your ears and the gentle evening sun warming you both.

—

A/N: This was actually lowkey inspired by that scene where Joel is leading Ellie, Henry and Sam down the street after they come out of the tunnels and Joel just shakes his head and goes “so much goddamn talkin’.’ while looking like an annoyed father because they’re all being too loud…got very hung up on that bit of dialogue and could not let it go so here we are!

Also hope I added the daddy kink bit here in tastefully, it’s a fave of mine and I struggled a bit to think of how to incorporate it in a way that felt real for Joel so I only just dipped my toe in with it here but I hope you liked it! 👀

Thank you for reading <3

some no pressure tags! 💫 @eupheme @ozarkthedog @moreofem @tinydramatist @black-fairy3 @federalchickensoup @fluffyprettykitty @persona-enthusiast @moonstruksandco @ghotifishreads @communism-bitches

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x black reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x woc #amalia writes

760 notes · View notes

jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

happy birthday loser; jjk x reader; 18+

summary: after three years of simping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration. idiots to lovers pwp oneshot. literally zero plot

warnings: explicit smut, mutual thirsting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting, loud filthy (unprotected) sex. wrap before u tap

a/n: happy birthday jungkook! this is my first oneshot in 4+ years so be gentle w me please, usually i prefer to write series but i wanted to challenge myself and ofc write something special for everybody's favourite maknae's birthday. enjoy!

word count: 8k

On Thursdays you cook burgers for dinner.

But today isn’t just a regular Thursday.

It’s your roommates birthday, his twenty-fifth to be exact, so when you ventured to the grocery store last night you were sure to pick up the ingredients for his favourite meal in preparation for tonight. Samgyeopsal.

Pork belly is his favourite meat, you’ve been subjected to many a conversation about how tasty he finds it, how it’s the right balance of protein and fat, how it goes with anything, how he likes to wrap the succulent meat in lettuce leaves before submerging it into sauce and shoving it into his mouth.

It’s his favourite food without a shadow of a doubt. And so you’ve taken it upon yourself to cook it for him on his birthday. He is your favourite person after all, without a shadow of a doubt.

Jungkook moved in with you three years ago, at a very dark time in your life when you were wallowing in your post-breakup blues. You initially met the triple threat of tall, dark and handsome Jungkook at an open mic night when he struck up a conversation with you at the local bar.

As if being gorgeous isn’t enough, he’s a very talented singer and guitarist too, he and his grungy rock band like to play at bars and clubs on weekends. When he’s not busy at his nine to five as a software engineer, where he’s due to be leaving any minute now.

The more you got to know him you quickly realised he’s somewhat of a loser. Not a loser in the sense of having no friends and nothing significantly interesting about him – not in the slightest. Jungkook is a loser in the sense that he’s extremely introverted, painfully so, and lacks social skills.

He prefers to stay home after a gig, he doesn’t care for parties or girls or even much alcohol. He loves the quiet life, spending most evenings glued to his laptop to play videogames or sat beside you on the sofa binging something on Netflix. When he's not running his expert fingers over the nooks and crannies of his guitar.

Truthfully you’ve been kind of infatuated with him for a while now, he’s just so endearing and rib-shatteringly hilarious without even trying. It’s hard not to fall for him. His smile is earth-shatteringly perfect, his touch more so. You are but a woman after all, and a woman has needs and desires just like everybody else.

Jungkook being what you both need and desire daily.

At the time you met him a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Him moving into your spare bedroom was just a way to make up the rent and bill money your ex-boyfriend used to pay. But now you’re three years single save for the very occasional one night stand and Jungkook has never looked more appealing.

Maybe it’s the way he helps you reach snacks on the highest shelf when your tiptoes fail you. Perhaps it has a little something to do with the sweet melodies that flow from his pierced lips, flooding the apartment whenever he showers. It could be the fact he likes to ‘air-dry’ and parades around the place wearing nothing but a damp towel after said showers. Or it might have something to do with the way the supple skin beneath his big brown doe-eyes crinkles when he smiles.

But maybe, maybe, it’s because he’s everything you never realised you were looking for – until it quite literally showed up on your doorstep and moved in.

Okay so maybe you’re down bad for your roommate, but who in their right mind wouldn’t be? If you had to pick one word to describe Jungkook it would be… Perfect, handsome, funny, sweet, sentimental, ripped, gorgeous, talented. Any of those work just fine, it would be an insult to simply pick just one.

One of the many perks about living with Jungkook is that you’re both organised messy people, sure there’s some clutter here and there throughout the apartment but you both know damn sure what junk is where. Your personalities match, you don’t make the rules, they just do. All your friends say it, as do his friends. You'd be a show-stopping couple for sure.

It’s just that well… The man is somewhat emotionally constipated, can’t smell what’s right under his nose no matter how many hints you’ve given. Like a nose-blind lion on the prowl, there's a willing zebra right here, but he hasn't seemed to notice.

Wearing low-cut shirts at dinner, skirts that are a little too short, always making sure your makeup is clean and dewy looking even when wearing sweats. The innocent flirting that’s nowhere near innocent on your end. You shower him with compliments on the daily, being sure you don't appear too indifferent or nonchalant about it. You mean every compliment you've ever given him.

You like him, but you didn’t realise how frustrating that would prove to be giving his obliviousness.

But that all ends tonight.

You’re wearing a simple black slip dress, the smooth fabric ending just below the curve of your ass and the straps are so dainty that he’s bound to notice your exposed cleavage. Maybe even the lace trim of your sheer bra too, complete with a matching thong of course.

It’s not uncommon for you to get dressed up randomly, even before Jungkook moved in, you’ve always liked making an effort and looking pretty. It makes you feel good, confident even. You even went as far as to shave today, ensuring you're extra smooth, yknow just in case.

It's been a whole eleven months since you invited a guy back here, and the outcome was less than satisfying. Much like all your sexual endeavours, he got his and all you got was the ick. You haven’t seen the guy since.

It’s been a hot minute since Jungkook invited a girl back here too, maybe even over a year now. The way your roommate likes to saunter around half-dressed with long, messy brunette hair and a wicked smile has always affected you, made your mouth dry and your panties damp. Truthfully you don’t understand how a guy like that is single, well maybe it's because he doesn’t appear to have a radar for women, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Black helium balloons fill your lounge, the big ‘25’ being the most obvious. You’ve spent the day mentally preparing for this, you want to show him how much you appreciate everything he does for you and celebrate his birthday properly. From him always prepping extra breakfast in the mornings just to make sure you’ve eaten, to his inked fingertips giving you back massages when you’ve hit the gym a little too hard. He’s usually the one to cook dinner most nights, so tonight you want to return the favour with a smile.

You’re just about to start prepping dinner when the unmistakable sound of his key in the door sends a rush of excitement through you. He’s home.

“Hey loser.” Jungkook’s voice is casual when he slips into the apartment, you’re too busy reapplying lip gloss to get a good look at him just yet.

“Good evening.” You chuckle, clamping the handheld mirror shut and sliding it into a kitchen draw.

You don’t know when it started, nor who started it. But the two of you like to use the term loser as a term of… almost endearment. It’s an inside joke between you both, friends and family members often gasp at the nickname you have for each other but for you? The word loser started to make your heart flutter and squeeze a long time ago. Finally you peer to the doorway and acknowledge him with a kind smile, one he’s reciprocating already.

“Happy birthday loser.”

As always he looks good enough to eat. His chiselled yet soft features, tanned skin, the little beauty mark nestled just beneath those very inviting lips of his. The muscles that threaten to tear through the fabric of his clothes. The tattoos that peak out from his sleeve cuffs. The piercings, his long dark hair that parts in the middle and frames those very handsome, genetic lottery winning features of his. You fight a teenage-like sigh, just looking at him is enough to make your heart race.

“What’s all this..?” His eyes scan the room as he shimmies out of his blazer, leaving him in a black shirt tucked into slacks of the same colour. His favourite colour is black, almost everything he owns is black, hence the fitting colour of the birthday decorations. “Are you making pork?” His angled chin tips in your direction, lazy footsteps bringing him closer.

“Mhm.” You nod, suppressing a grin, “You like pork belly, right? I thought it was your favourite.”

He’s nodding along to the sound of your voice, still smiling, “No I do, it is. It’s just we usually have burgers on a Thursday.”

“Ahh, but today isn’t just Thursday,” You remind him with a mischievous wink, “It’s your birthday, Thursday the 1st of September.”

“Congratulations you know how to read my drivers license.” Jungkook snorts when he props himself onto the kitchen countertop, next to your little workstation, “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t have to do all this yknow.”

“I wanted to.” You hum, turning on the stove.

“But what if I already have plans to celebrate my birthday?” His pierced brow quirks, the silver barbel glimmering beneath the harsh kitchen lighting.

You tut, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when you glare at him and see his nose is already scrunched playfully, “Do you have plans?”

“Looks like I do now!” He claps, taking a beat before cocking his head to one side, his features softening upon watching you cook, “Thank you Y/N.”

Looking him dead in the eye you offer a genuine smile, “Anytime.”

“Would you be offended if I showered before we ate? The AC at work broke and this shirt feels sticky.” He sighs, cracking his neck.

“Why would I be offended?” A light puff of air rips from your nostrils when he fails to respond, his features blanketed with uncertainty and confusion. He really is emotionally constipated.

“No, I wouldn’t be offended loser. Go shower.” You’re giggling, shaking your head in disbelief, “It’ll be ready by the time you’re finished.”

“You’re the best!” He hops off the counter, making sure to spank your ass before skipping into the bathroom. “Happy birthday to me indeed.” He chuckles, winking in your direction before he closes the door behind him.

It’s always like this, the playful flirts and touches, but you crave something more. You want him to shove his tongue so far down your throat he could eat you out at the same time. You want to feel his tattooed hands to explore every square inch of your body while he fucks you into oblivion. The thought alone is enough to frustrate you.

Maybe you should just hop on top of him one night in front of the TV. Sometimes you do sit on his thighs, his ridiculously strong thighs, if there’s a lack of seating. You sigh dramatically, mentally debating whether the large sofa would fit through the window. If there’s nowhere to sit you’d have to sit on him. Problem solved. All you have to do is throw the fucking sofa out the window and pray he takes the hint. Easy enough.

The sizzling meat in the pan is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, revealing a cloud of steam and a shirtless Jungkook, tattoos and muscles displayed in all their glory. He’s wearing nothing but Calvin Klein boxer shorts, grey ones, that leave fuck all to the imagination.

“Forgot my towel.” He chuckles awkwardly, briefly heading into his bedroom to retrieve said towel. That damn white towel. What would he do if there were no towel? Walk around bare-ass with his dick on show? Maybe you could throw the towel out the window instead, it would be much easier than the sofa.

“You okay?” Jungkook’s presence startles you, he’s right next to you with furrowed brows and his stupidly muscular arms crossed over his chest, towel draped on his shoulder. “You zoned out again, thinking about anything good?” He’s laughing, wetting his lips between smiles.

Your gaze flickers to the bumps of his toned abdomen before settling on his face, he’s smiling brightly at you, seemingly unaware of the carnal desire you have to pin him to the kitchen floor and mount him right now.

“I’m fine, go get your shower.” You act indifferent, prompting a quiet, unconvinced ‘oookay’ from your roommate before he’s gone again.

You’re genuinely entertaining the idea of throwing out, no wait burning that sofa now, Jungkook’s thighs have always been way comfier anyway.

Interestingly enough the timing of his shower is perfect, you’re plating up dinner on the coffee table when he’s finished. Making sure to grab a bottle of soju from the cupboard, he’s not much of a drinker but you figure it is his birthday after all. Dragging two plump cushions from the sofa you’ve suddenly grown a strong hatred toward, you sit on one, leaving the other free for the birthday boy himself.

“Oh my god this smells great,” Jungkook comically inhales until his chest, his bare chest, is full of air. “Have you watched those 365 days movies? Someone at work recommended them to me earlier.” He says nonchalantly while sitting next to you, only wearing that damn white towel over his hips. The scent of his coconut bodywash clings to his beefy frame and floods your senses.

“The sex movies?” You laugh, handing him chopsticks all while trying to keep your gaze on his face. Somewhat a difficult challenge considering he's half naked. Again. “I’ve heard they’re really graphic with basically no plot, just steamy sex scenes, bad accents and a hot guy with tattoos.”

“Ah, you do like a man with tattoos.” He sniffs, fingertips lingering on yours while he grips the utensils, “Well since it’s my birthday I say we watch them. Seokjin at work said they're pretty good.”

“Okay,” You shrug, “But since when do you know about what kind of man I like?”

At this Jungkook grins, finding the remote and switching on Netflix, “You’ve only ever brought two guys back here since I moved in, both had tattoos. It’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

“Valid.” You’re nodding, beginning to tuck into the food, “I guess I do like men with tattoos, yeah.”

“Yeah?” He asks, gently elbowing your side. When you glance at him he’s smiling, wiggling his thick eyebrows animatedly while gesturing to his dark sleeve tattoo. “I’m a man with tattoos.”

“That you are.” You wink, praying to every higher power that one of these days he's going to acknowledge you're a woman. A woman with a vagina. A vagina that needs stuffing immediately.

“Shit Y/N this is amazing,” Jungkook’s frowning while he chews, a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying the food you’ve made, “You should cook this more often, so much better than burgers. Fuck,” He moans, dark lashes dusting his face when he squeezes his eyes shut, “So good. So fucking good. Best birthday meal ever.”

This is how most of your nights together are spent, sat witching TV on the floor while eating dinner and enjoying each other’s company. You’re coming to the end of your meal when the first sex scene in the movie starts playing, well, okay not really. The characters aren’t having sex but she’s tied up to the bed watching someone else suck off the sexy guy with tattoos. Your brows are hiked up your forehead, eyes wide, this is not where you thought the plot was going.

“Would you ever do anything like that?” Your roommate asks with his last mouthful of food, watching the TV while running a hand through his damp long hair, “Maybe not the kidnapping part but would you ever wanna watch someone have sex?”

“Nah,” You shake your head, “Not for me. What about you?”

“For sure.” He affirms with a nod, still staring at the screen, “But I’d rather be watched than be the one watching. Especially if I was into the girl, I’m way too jealous for shit like that.”

Ignoring the way his response sends a shiver down your spine you swallow your food, “Aren’t you a little socially awkward to put yourself in that kind of situation? No offence.”

“None taken, I am an awkward guy,” He snorts, “But I don’t know, the idea of someone seeing me absolutely destroy someone kinda gets me going… I like the idea of being watched. Don’t you have anything like that?”

You gulp, “Like what?”

“Any kinks or fantasies.”

“I guess so… Doesn’t everybody?”

At this Jungkook takes it upon himself to pause the movie, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Tell me some.”

“Jungkook…” Your sigh shifts into an awkward giggle, truthfully he is your fantasy. And that towel doesn’t leave much to your imagination, if anything at all. But it doesn’t take you long to crumble, “Okay fine, what do you wanna know?”

“Where would you most like to have sex?” He’s smirking, hooded eyes boring into the depths of your soul, “Anywhere in the world, go.”

“Hmm… I don’t know actually, I’ve never thought about it. What about you?”

“My bed.”

You deadpan, a single brow quirked, “Your bed?”

“It’s comfy, it smells nice, and I can go to sleep after without worrying about getting home since I’m already here. Of course my bed is the number one choice.” He’s looking at you as though you’re stupid, as though his answer is obvious when he scoffs.

“Okay… that’s fair enough.”

Jungkook’s watching you closely, and you swear you see his vision drop to your chest for a millisecond before settling back on your eyes, “What would your ideal guy do to you in bed?”

Sucking in a breath of air you’re already nodding, “Easy. The ideal guy isn’t selfish and knows how to make me come, maybe even squirt. No guys ever made me do either. Your turn.”

“None of the guys you’ve slept with have made you come? What the fuck! Um-, okay…” He licks his teeth before making noises akin to car turning lights, emphasising his thoughts, “The ideal woman is bossy, not dominant but knows what she wants and tells me how to do it. I like vocal women, women who aren’t scared of their own voice. Plus the ideal can actually ride me, the amount of women that give up after four bounces is kinda disappointing.”

Suddenly your mouth feels very dry, prompting you to swallow nothing. Thankfully you’ve never heard Jungkook having sex, there’s been a couple of times you’ve heard heavy breathing and little whimpers from his bedroom but it’s always when he’s alone in there. Guys masturbate, it would be unreasonable to expect him not to do it when you’re home. Plus you’ve definitely gotten yourself off while he’s slept in the next room, you have zero room to talk.

“Really? Four bounces?” Your voice betrays you slightly, wavering with curiosity.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind doing all the work, it’s just annoying when they talk a big game and put in minimal effort. Just be upfront about wanting me to be in charge, you know? I like being in charge it’s no big deal.”

You’re shaking your head, frowning with an uncertain smile, “Then what are you complaining about?”

At this the birthday boy sighs exasperatedly, as though you’re missing the point, “It’s just annoying isn’t it? When you think somethings gonna go a certain way and then it doesn’t…”

“Tell me about it.” You snort, pouring two shots of peach soju.

“Okay,” Jungkook takes the shot of soju, snapping his fingers excitedly, seemingly unphased by the bitter taste of alcohol, “Who do you wanna sleep with more than anyone in the world? Who’s your number one?”

Slinging back the soju, you bite the bullet with an devilish smirk.

“Hmmm… You.”

Stone cold regret washes over you when he looks through you, the same way he looks at people he’s not comfortable with yet. The exact same expression he gives strangers when he doesn’t understand why he’s been roped into their conversations. His pierced lips purse, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing from a thick swallow. Eyes animatedly round, shocked and astonished.

“Uhh…” He wets his lips before his eyes narrow, brows pinching, “I’m being serious Y/N…”

You nod, “Me too but never mind.” You sigh dramatically, pouring more shots.

“Stop fucking around with me!” He playfully pushes your shoulder, earning embarrassed laughter to bubble in the depths of your throat, “You can’t just say that to me out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” You repeat, frustrated, “Jungkook I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried hitting on you and it just seems to go straight over your head.” You whine, lips forming a cute pout that he can’t stop staring at, “Anyway… Like I said, never mind. Forget I said anything. Who’s your number one?”

But Jungkook is too stunned to speak. He’s looking down at you as though you’ve just told him you want to marry him and have his babies. Surprised doesn’t cut it, nor does confused. It’s a deadly cocktail of the two mixed with a little nervousness tugging his usually sharp features up and wide.

“I-, what?” He blinks away his daydream, “Are you being serious? You actually wanna fuck me? I can’t tell. You know I’m bad with stuff like this. Spell it out for me loser.”

At this you shake your head, feeling deflated, “It doesn’t matter, honestly just forget I said anything, you don’t find me attractive so it’s not like it’s ever gonna—”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

An agitated exhale leaves you, your roommate still staring at you expectantly with a single brow quirked, “You don’t have to say it out loud Kook, it’s obvious.”

“Wow, you really don’t know me at all, do you?” His white teeth are bared in a dazzling panty-dropping grin, “Why do you think I’m sitting here in a towel Y/N? Just out of curiosity.”

“Cause you like to ‘air-dry’.” You mimic air quotes with a mocking tone, slugging back another shot of soju. He does the same.

Jungkook’s voice drops into something akin to seductive, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a huge smile, “Actually, I thought that maybe if I walk round the place half naked all the time you’d take the hint eventually. You think when I moved in friendship was the only thing on my mind?” He’s laughing now, shaking his head in disbelief, baffled, tongue darting over his lips to wet them. “You think when I came up to you at the bar all I wanted was to be your friend?”

“W-what are you saying? That you are attracted to me?” Your heart races away in your chest, a lick of heat wetting your spine when your roommate tilts his head to one side, smirking.

“Ask me who my number one is.”

“Okay… I’ll humour you. Who’s your number one?” You’re blushing, unable to wipe the smile from your features when he sucks in a harsh breath of air, watching you closely.

His inked hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging your face closer, close enough that your noses bang together and you both giggle. “You are, loser.”

The next thing you know he’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back.

Where most make out sessions begin soft and slow, gentle and uncertain while both parties attempt to figure out what the other likes – that’s far from what’s happening here. It’s heated, it’s messy and fuelled by years of pent up frustration and longing. His grip moves to your jaw where he pries it open, slipping his tongue into your mouth at that exact moment.

“Oh… Jungkook…” You mewl, smiling triumphantly against his mouth.

Fucking finally.

“You have,” He pulls back, lips kiss-swollen and stained with lip gloss, “No idea,” His hands sneakily find your hips, guiding your body until you’re straddling his towel-clad thighs, “How long,” He’s smirking, palming the fat of your ass when his lips find your in a hurry, “I’ve wanted to fuck you.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything then?!” You frown, sighing in bliss when your dress is being pushed up, pooling your abdomen that’s full of pork belly and butterflies. Giving enough leeway for Jungkook’s fingertips to slip into the waistband of your underwear.

He chuckles into the kiss, averting his mouth to pepper your jawline with lots more dainty little kisses, whispering, “The same reason you didn’t, I didn’t know you were into me like that.”

“Except I tried, multiple times…” You hum, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Palms explore Jungkook’s muscular back, every lump, bump, every inch of tanned bare flesh that you’ve seen simultaneously way too many times and not enough at all. “All the slutty outfits… The compliments, I’ve been pretty vocal about finding you attractive actually.” You’re grinning, fingertips toying with the long brunette hairs at the nape of his neck.

At this Jungkook sighs, lulling his head back to get a better look at your face. His eyes are blown dark with lust, his gaze hooded and intense. But it’s the breath-taking smile he wears that sends a rush of heat straight between your legs.

“I do like a woman who’s vocal about what she wants.” He winks, crushing his lips to yours once more, “So tell me what you want loser.”

“Want you.” You pout, elbows resting atop his broad shoulders when you brush the hair away from his face, physically incapable from breaking the string of messy kisses. He tastes like peaches and sin. “Want you to make me come.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, ridding your body of the skimpy little dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination. “Wish you told me all this sooner, could’ve been blowing your back out daily by now.”

“Not my fault you can’t take a hint.” You snort, blood rushing to your cheeks when you see his hungry stare fixed to your almost bare body atop of his thighs.

He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk. Why do you think I put your snacks on the top shelf?”

“So you can help me reach them…?” You scoff, biting down on your lip, “So you look like a strong alpha man helping his poor defenceless vertically challenged roommate?”

“Nah,” He admits with throaty laughter, large palms exploring your curves and reaching round your back, until they’re unclasping your bra in one swift movement, “Like seeing your ass peek out the tiny little dresses you wear when you get on your tiptoes.”

Your mouth falls open in genuine shock, brows raised expectantly, “Jeon Jungkook!” You gasp, gripping his chin and angling it towards your lips, “Who knew you were such a fucking pervert?”

The man’s in a total daze, lost in your eyes with a bright smile, “You think that's perverted? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Maybe this is a bad idea. Having wild, carnal, fringing-on-illegal sweaty hot passionate sex with your roommate. Maybe. But when your bare back hits his soft mattress with a ‘ooomf’ and he rids himself of that damn towel, you struggle to see past this moment right here, right now. Jungkook is naked, and it’s a glorious sight.

You’re grinning when he crawls up the bed, but to your surprise, no, rather to your excitement, he stops when his profile is faced with your underwear. Hooking his fingertips beneath your thong he smirks, gaze briefly meeting yours until he’s dragging your underwear beneath your ass and down your legs.

Being naked in front of Jungkook is something you’ve often thought about, it was the motivation behind your tactical shave earlier today, secretly praying this would happen. But now that you’re here, in his monochrome bedroom that smells of vanilla, on full display for the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. It all gets a little overwhelming.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles, thick brows pinched when you sheepishly shut your legs and stop him from seeing the whole show.

“I-, uh…” You swallow, clearing your throat, “It’s been a while…”

“And?”

“And I’m nervous.” You giggle, throwing your head back into his pillows.

At this he makes his way up to your face, knocking your legs apart with his knees to settle his weight between them. His strong arms hold his body in place, planted either side of your face. The way he’s peering down at you should be illegal, so smug yet there’s a glimmer of concern behind his sparkly eyes. It’s when he releases a breath of air against your face that his features soften into a faint smile, awestricken.

“I think you’re gorgeous Y/N, you don’t need to be nervous.”

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year…” You whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“And?” He repeats, chuckling mostly to himself, “Neither have I. And it didn’t stop you from using that noisy ass vibrator of yours the other night, did it?” Your eyes snap to his in a panic, he’s fully laughing now, the sound equal parts mischievous and salacious. “Walls are very thin…” He sniffs, tilting his chin to the wall his headboard rests on, backing onto your bedroom.

It’s after you sigh, beyond mortified that he heard such obscenities, that he sinks his lips to a sweet spot on your neck, sucking the flesh harsh enough to leave sensual bruises, “Let me make you feel good baby, I promise I’ll make you feel good… Don’t be nervous.” He murmurs, and you’re left breathless.

The pet name sends a rush of something strange over your body, you’re not used to him calling you anything other than loser. Maybe your name, but definitely not baby. You like it. While he’s working on making a total mess of your neck the familiar heat and lust comes back, stronger, deeper, and more determined.

“Jungkook… Please… W-want you to make me feel good.” You whisper, already in a daze.

It’s then that you feel him smirk against your skin, planting one final coy kiss to your lips before making his way down your body with one continuous lick that has your body aflame. His tongue never leaves you, travelling to your collarbones, your breasts. The flat wet muscle glides over your nipple and you gasp, brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so sensitive…” He hums, lapping up your nipple, taking it between his teeth and playfully sucking. Tiny whimpers and moans peep from your lips, along with the occasional gasp that has your roommate losing his goddamn mind. His tongue soon finds the other nipple, winning himself more of the same noises that are making his cock throb with anticipation already.

“So nobody’s ever made you come, huh?” He mumbles, “But you’re so fucking sensitive baby… Aren’t you?”

“Mhm…” You bite your lip, hands greedily smoothing over his bare shoulders. You want to feel his body, his entire body. You want it on top of you, next to you, underneath you, inside you. Perhaps it’s due to all the pent up frustration harboured toward him, but there’s a dull beat between your legs that you so desperately want him to listen to.

And then it hits you, Jungkook likes vocal women.

“Make me come please… Want you to make me come…” You moan, writhing around beneath him at the new found tingles all over your body. The cool air kisses your core when he spreads your thighs, sinking down the bed until he’s eye level with your bare pussy.

“Oh my god.”

His words win you to tug yourself up onto your elbows, a little curious. That’s when you find him staring at your vagina with pure astonishment. Lips ajar, brows hiked so far up his forehead that it’s wrinkled, a small surprised scoff hot against your flesh.

“What?” You frown, suddenly self-conscious, “What are you looking at?”

“What am I looking at?” He parrots, sighing with puffed out cheeks, “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, that’s what I’m looking at.”

“Oh.” You giggle, not knowing what to say.

You didn’t expect him to be so confident in the bedroom, so outspoken and complimentary. It’s no secret that he’s a very socially awkward man in the streets. Apparently a very different story to the personality he has between the sheets.

“You have the cutest little beauty mark…” He whispers, sinking his lips to your folds, “Right here.” He kisses you gently, and you feel like squealing. “Fuck, you’re addicting baby. Losing my mind down here.” He chuckles right before digging in.

He places a languid, drawn-out lick from your entrance to your clit, one so mind-numbingly slow that your toes curl against the sheets. He repeats this, once, twice, three, four, five times until he’s dipping his tongue between your folds with a whispered moan. It feels nice, feels good, but it's not enough.

“You plan on making me come any time soon, loser?” You playfully kick his shoulder, winning hot laughter against your centre.

It’s then that his arms hook under your thighs and he drags you closer to his waiting face, until his full lower-profile is smothered in your cunt. His chin, his multitalented lips, the soft bend of his nose, all of it. He playfully slaps your thighs and you take the hint, throwing your legs over those obnoxiously broad shoulders of his.

That’s when your guttural moan fills the air, when Jungkook starts lapping up your clit so expertly that you question whether the whole ‘shy, socially inept, cute boy’ persona he has going for him is just a façade.

He’s good at this. He’s fucking amazing at this. You’re gasping for air when he suckles on your clit, massaging the muscle with his tongue while it’s still being pulled between his lips. You groan, you hiss, you whimper. It feels indescribably fantastic, and there’s no way he’s not going to be able to get you off doing this.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.” You whine, hips pushing your core impossibly closer to his face. “Mmmph, oh—” Another long moan cuts you off, actually it’s more of a groan. A needy one at that.

His hooded stare flickers up to your face, watching your every move before him. “So sensitive.” He murmurs, sounding disbelieved.

Watching you wriggle and whimper for him only fuels his lust further. He takes it upon himself to push your legs onto your chest with one hand. Until your knees are to your breasts. You don’t complain at the new angle so he carries on, pulling away from your pussy for a second to spit on his fingers. Not that he thinks you’re going to need it, you're already drowning his sheets.

Unceremoniously he plunges two digits into you dripping walls, and you shriek.

“Jungkook, oh god, oh my god Jungkook…” You pant, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

It’s a second later when his mouth reattaches to your clit and you’re borderline sobbing. You feel so full, like an elastic band being stretched to it’s limits. You’re going to snap soon, you know it. There’s a heat building in your gut, one that comes in rhythmic waves that match your racing heart.

That’s when something odd swells inside your stomach, something new and exciting and overwhelming. Jungkook’s fingers aren’t fucking in and out of you like you’d expect them to be, they’re consistently inside you, curling upward and pressing against a spot that very few people, yourself included, have ever managed to discover.

“Jungkook seriously what the-, fuck!” You warn him, eyes flying open in utter disbelief.

“Mmm?” He chuckles, his response lost to the sounds of your pornographically wet pussy squelching and sloshing around his fingers.

“I’m-, oh my fucking god…” You’re whining, whimpering, shivering. “Feels so fucking good.”

At this he moans in response, sucking your clit harder, hitting that spot inside you even harder, faster. You inhale sharply, preparing yourself for the earth-shattering ecstasy that’s sure to crash down on your body any second now. But strangely enough it isn’t the hold of your clit between your roommates lips that pushes you over the edge, nor is it the thrilling curl of his finger.

You peer down at him, his brows furrowed deep with concentration, the same way they are when he eats something delicious. His face is spinning and twisting to each and every side to make sure he’s licking and sucking all your nerve endings. And that’s when his heavy eyes flicker up at your mess of a face.

Jungkook winks.

And you squirt everywhere.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god!” You groan, watching the man who you’ve been simping over for years giggle against your skin as though he hasn’t just made a catastrophic mistake.

Because now you’ve experienced this side of him, there’s absolutely no way you can go back to just being roommates.

He doesn’t fold, doesn’t stop, nor does he slow. No. He carries on. Sucking, finger-fucking, licking, moaning, curling those digits and slurping at your pussy until it happens again. And again. And again.

And again.

“P-please…” Your body jumps and jolts on the mattress, convulsing from oversensitivity, your back damp with sweat and heart beating so fast you fear it’s going to implode any second now. “I-, I can’t take another one…” You pant, hands flying to the hairs at his scalp where you try and pry him aware from your core.

He hums in agreement, nodding along with your words all while wearing a big, dumb grin. “Okay.”

You’re fucked. Head spinning, reeling, brain unresponsive. Limbs already aching, you’ve never come this many times in one sitting to date. Not even with that ‘noisy-ass’ vibrator of yours. The distant sound of laughter forces you to come back to reality, finding Jungkook laid next to you with shiny lips and a wicked smirk. His head resting on the bend of his elbow, his pierced brow quirked curiously.

“I’ll give you a minute...” He’s laughing, tongue toying with his silver lip ring. A moment later he shifts on the bed, until he’s laid on his back and his entwined hands are tucked behind his head. A content smile broadens his features, a smug one, one that gives you a devilish idea.

Adrenaline and the need to have his cock inside you courses your veins, along with a hint of arrogance. That’s what leads you to sitting up, mouth falling open when you catch sight of Jungkook’s huge cock, rock hard and waiting. Oh you’re about to give him the best birthday present in the world. He wants a woman that can ride him? Who can last longer than four bounces?

Challenge accepted.

Carefully, you throw your leg over his waist until you’re hovering over his muscular body. He really is huge, by every ridiculous definition of the word. Lazily, he opens his eyes before they grow wide with surprise at your current position.

“Oh?” He chuckles, hungrily exploring your naked body with his stare, as though he hasn’t been ogling it for the past however long you’ve been in here. “I’ll warn you now, if you’re any good at this I’m gonna have to take you on a date.”

“We’re going out on a date regardless.” You snort, gripping the base of his shaft, shit, he’s big, “Since you’re the only guy around here who knows how to make me come.”

“Suits me just fine loser, I'll take you on a date. If you're lucky I'll make you squirt again at the dinner table.” He grins, wetting his lips. “Let me rephrase then, if you ride me like you mean it I’ll take you on the best date of your life this weekend.”

“Deal.” You wink, chest swelling.

You pump his cock a few times before you sink yourself down onto it with a long, shaky moan.

“Holy shit… baby…” He pants, tugging at his own hair with furrowed brows.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut but you can just about make out them rolling back into his skull behind his lashes. It’s when you’re fully settled onto his cock that you bite your lip, picking yourself up only to slam down onto him with a loud wet smack. His doe-eyes snap open at lightening speed, a drawn-out grown rumbling his strong chest.

“Fuck!” He gasps, jaw slack and eyes wide.

You grin down at him triumphantly, clearly he didn’t know you were capable of making him feel just as good as he made you feel. You repeat the motion, harder. You do it again, and again, until Jungkook’s hissing and messily gripping your hips in a hurry.

“Y/N… What the fuck?!” He stifles a moan when he bites his lip, mesmerised by the way your pussy squeezes his cock each and every time you pull yourself up and drop back onto it. “Seriously what the fuck are you made of, oh my-, fuck—”

It’s at this moment you brace yourself on his chest with splayed hands, keeping your body steady before you ride him like your existence depends on it. Like there’s no tomorrow. Like you’re the only two people on earth. There’s a hot burn in your thighs but you don’t let up, bouncing on him consistently, pace never faltering.

He’s so big that you fear you’ll split open, but you welcome the underlining sting of being this stuffed. Obscene wet noises along with the sound of the bed squeaking in sync with your movements fill the air. Beneath you Jungkook is a moaning mess, he’s chewing on his lips as though that’ll stop the profanities and groans from escaping him – but it doesn’t.

“Baby… Oh we definitely-, oh shit-,” He hisses, hands snaking round to your ass cheeks where he squeezes them like they’re his favourite stress-balls, “We should’ve done this-, way-, waaaay sooner.” He moans again, head thrown back into his pillow.

You’re slamming down on him with force, so much intent behind your bounces that the crown of his cock hits your cervix each time without fail. The sight before you will be burned into your memory forever. Jeon Jungkook, panting, whimpering, trying his absolute best to keep it together all while you ride him to heaven and hell and back again.

“You like it when I ride this fat cock of yours?” You moan, usually you’re not one for dirty talk but you simply can’t help yourself. He looks… Feral. And it’s only spurring you on even more. “You’re so big Jungkook, fuck, feels so fucking good inside me…”

“You-, you’re…” He can’t get his words out, they’re dying in the back of his throat, lost to the ‘mmmphs’ and ‘ooohhhs’ he delivers every time you drop down on him. “Do I l-like it? Fuck. Best-, mmmph, best fucking pussy... Slow down baby, please.” He whines, the sound has your lower abdomen in utter turmoil, another orgasm threatening to ripple your body.

You do as he says, he is the birthday boy after all. Besides, there’s no way in hell this is going to be the only time you’ll ride him. Your evenings together are going to look a whole lot different from now on, that's for sure.

The speed of your ministrations slows, but the depth and force does not. You’re still fucking yourself on his hard length with so much purpose that you feel his knees buckling, thick thighs twitching beneath you.

“Baby, fuck…” He rasps, “Ohhh fuck! Mmmph…” It’s like he’s mesmerised, mouth hanging open and eyes incapable of looking anywhere but you. He's completely infatuated with the way you feel atop of him.

You feel a hand snake up to the nape of your neck before you’re being pulled toward his face, his lips smashing against yours in another series of messy, desperate kisses. Gritting your teeth when the white hot heat inside your walls threatens to snap, Jungkook feels your sopping walls clench around his girth and groans into your mouth.

“Again? Ohhh...” He hisses, trying his best to sound cocky but it’s less than convincing when he too is a whimpering mess. “You’re a fucking goddess Y/N-, ohhhh.” He pants, finding your hips with tattooed hands where he holds them in place.

It’s a moment later when he plants his feet flat against the mattress, bending his knees, showcasing his strength when he keeps you in one place above him. That’s when he fucks you hard, as though he’s punishing you for something. Thrusting in and out of you so violently that you’re blubbering into the crook of his neck.

“Fuck! Right there, right fucking there!” You cry out, voice almost lost to the brutal clapping noises of you being fucked ten ways to Sunday.

Each rut of his hips has you seeing stars, he feels so fucking good inside you. So deep. His pelvis is knocking against your swollen clit, be it intentional or accidental you'll never know - but it has you spiralling into insanity.

A long, vocal moan tears from your throat when you’re hit with another orgasm. You feel boneless, as though you’ve just discovered the real definition of pleasure. You’re so wet that he’s sliding in and out of you with ease now, the pulsing of you walls throwing him over his own edge until he thrusts into you one final time.

It's deeper, he's holding your hips in place, dragging them impossibly closer to his body when he fills you with his come. Breathless and sweaty.

“Baby… Oh my… god.” He chokes out between ragged breaths, and you can’t help but giggle into his skin.

Moments later you’re rolling off him, too weak to adjust the position you land in but you do throw a leg over his thighs with a smile. Heavy breathing and quiet chuckles bring you back down to earth, forcing you to gaze over at your roommate.

Jungkook’s already looking at you like he’s madly in love, as though you’ve just offered to do this every day with him for the rest of your lives. When you wet your lips and smirk you register his cock twitching against his abdomen, he really is shameless. And by the look on his face, he isn’t even close to being through with you.

"Best. Birthday. Ever." He pants, absolutely befuddled that he's just had sex, mind-blowingly, indescribable sex with his roommate, the same roommate he's been fawning over for a long time now.

You send him a wink before pulling his face to yours, there's no fucking way you're done with him either.

“Happy birthday loser.”

#jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #happy birthday jungkook #jungkook fluff #roommate!jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x you

8K notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

Hobie brown x male!spiderman!reader where they’re “boyfriends” (more like best friends with benefits type thing) from different dimensions and haven’t seen each other in a while due to reader being kind of busy with SM stuff but one day reader shows up to hobies dimension in search of comfort because a canon event caused his older brother to die! Loving your hobie fics btw your whole blog is just good asf😭🫶💞

Here ya go! I hope you like it and I thank you for your kind words, they really mean a lot as I haven’t been feeling that great as of late, so this really made my day.

You felt as though you couldn’t breath, like the breath has been ripped straight out of your lungs, leaving you to struggle in finding fresh, unpolluted air to take in, to revitalise your lungs from the damage they’ve received; But you weren’t going to get that if you were to stay here.

Your head and heart were murky with every emotion imaginable trying to overtake each other as your primary feeling whilst your body was screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away because he was already dead before he even hit the ground; reminding you that you could mourn the dead later but as of right now you needed to get to the place you felt safest. But you weren’t going to get that if you were to stay here.

So without putting in much thought into anything anymore with your mind so far from reality and your emotions in a state of self destructive chaos, your change of scenery wasn’t brought into question until you heard the familiar sound of a guitar playing before it immediately stopped, only for it to be replaced by the sound of curious footsteps that grew in volume with they’re impending closeness. You knew those footsteps by heart and the type of shoes that made them but knew the male who wore those platforms like the back of your hand; Hobie’s warmth brought you a comfort that couldn’t be recreated nor imitated because even if it was even remotely the slightest bit off, you body naturally rejected it and would indiscreetly crave for the real thing.

For nothing could bring you more comfort, more sense of mind then being in Hobie’s arms.

‘Y/n?’ Even at the sound of his voice had your guarded walls crumbling.

‘Hobie, please tell me that’s you and not some sick trick of the mind.’ You whimpered, clutching the vest that he had left in your dimension between tightly clenched fists, while remaining adamant on keeping your back to him until you were for certain that he was in the room, talking to you, almost as though you were reassuring that deep seeded doubt that he was alive and okay.

In a couple of strides Hobie had his front pressed against your back as his arms cocooned you tightly in a method of preventing you moving away from his hold. ‘Does this feel like me?’ He asked softly, his heart hurting as he watched you instinctively huddled further into his chest until practically all of you was submerged against him. Just as your tears had begun to fall down your cheeks and creating wet patches against his shirt that you were adamant on clinging so desperately to. ‘Oh pretty boy.’ Hobie utters as he tightened his hold on you, allowing you to weep freely without judgment as all he wanted for you to do in that moment was to let it all out in whatever way you found best; whether it was to scream, cry, punch, or otherwise, Hobie would rather you be vocal about you pain rather then subduing it for a later date.

‘My brother died Hobie,’ you wept. ‘he died and I couldn’t save him, I wasn’t fast enough to reach him, I wasn’t strong enough to catch him as he fell, I wasn’t able enough to change anything.’ You gripped his shirt even tighter as you clenched your eyes shut as the imagery of the prior events proceeded to mock you of your biggest failure as Spider-Man as you added in a near inaudible whisper. ‘I don’t deserve to be Spider-Man. He’s meant to save people, not lead them to their deaths.’ Hobie knew that you didn’t meant for him to hear any of the last part but he very much did and felt that it was within his due diligence to remind you of how utterly bullshit that statement was because he’s making damn sure you don’t quit being what you so clearly love.

‘I want you to listen and listen good because I want what I say to you to stick with you so that when you get like this again, you’ll remember your worth and what you’ve always been fighting for; hope.’ Hobie began. ‘You were meant to be Spider-Man as much as I or any other Spider-Person in existence. Miguel’s bullshit has made you think that your value is based on the pain and the suffering we’ve endured and how there’s nothing we can do to combat it once it comes for us again, and again, and again. Forcing you to your knees in grief and sorrow but you want to know what you should do when that happens?’

‘What?’ You asked, removing your face from his chest to look him into his deep eyes with bleary eyes, practically melting into his touch when his hands moved to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks free of tear streaks. ‘Get back up.’ Hobie tells you. ‘Get back up because the fight ain’t over and it’ll never be over if you decide to give up now.’ He then sighs as he presses his head against yours in order to get closer to you. ‘Look I know it’s hard to keep going when they’re no longer here to root for us, to be there for us when we lick our wounds but it’ll only ever feel like that because you actively choose to stop remembering them, to stop honouring their memory within your heart, stop remembering their love and stop seeing them in everything they’ve touched, that’s when you know true loneliness. But your brother is still here,’ Hobie then brought one of your hands and pressed it against your chest to where your heart lied.

‘He’s right here and he will always be here, I will always be here for you in the moments you seemed to have lost your fighting spirit, to loose the willpower to keep going because I’ll happily carry you on my back until you do because that’s what we do, not only as Spider-Men but humans also. It’s practically in our nature.’ Just as Hobie was about to pull his hand off of yours, you were quick to grasp his hand and pulled it back towards you but only to place it over your heart, pressing you own hand atop of his to keep him there. There was a lot you wanted to tell Hobie that could wait until you were in a much better situation but even then you still had a lump in your throat that hindered your ability to speak your mind freely; which never usually happens when you’re with Hobie and it seemed as though he had caught onto this as well as he smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s okay, take your time.’

‘Will you stay with me? Just for a little while longer.’ You finally asked, racked with nervousness and anxiety as you fiddled with his fingers for his response. Hobie’s smile widens as he closed his eyes, brushing his nose against yours all the while making sure to keep you close in his embrace. ‘I’ll stay even long after you’re done needing me because I will always be standing in your corner, pretty boy.’

880 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇 • 𝕰. 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 : chapter one

synopsis: for as long as he could remember, his life was music and his money, no time for anything else. The only love he had ever known was the studio. That was until one night, he met his greatest muse thus far.

cw: insta model/musician black !fem reader, a very antisocial engineer/musician eren (he’s seen as kind of an asshole but he’s really sweet) no hardcore smut for this portion! just some kissing, fondling and mentions of sex, alcohol and drugs, profanity of course, inappropriate behavior

wc: 6.4K

notes from the author 📝 : So I'm going to be turning one of my first stories I posted on here, Studio, into a full series. I’ve written a million drabbles for this so I’m finally finishing the actual first chapter. Don’t know how many parts it will have but fuck it, we ball.

“Yeah, I don’t care much for any of this..the whole club scene like that. Truth is, I rather be anywhere else but I gotta get my money and something tells me you would too..so, let’s make the best of it and get this bag together.”

next chapter

They say that music is the one thing that makes the world go around..that without it, life would be a mistake.

a lot of people can’t even function if they don’t have their favorite song blaring through the speakers on the way to work..or in their headphones while trying to manage the school day. Others couldn’t imagine a gym session without that one playlist to get them pumped.

and for one man…

“You can’t be serious right now.”

it was his entire life!

“What do you mean, bro? This shit gas!”

the brunette released a heavy winded sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. His glasses were hanging from his face as well. Anyone who knew him was quite familiar with that look and it wasn’t a good one.

another male with glistening chains, gold slugs and a black hoodie stood above him from the circulating chair. To say he had irritated his producer was an understatement but it wasn’t a rare occurrence in the slightest.

“Bro..we’ve been here for five hours..you show up late and then you bring me this? You’re just fucking with me, right?”

Eren Jaeger, or E.J..a name very respected and revered in the music industry. For as long as he could remember, music was his first and only love in his young life..if there was an instrument to be played, he not only sought out to learn it but master it as well.

if there was a song he liked, best believe he was going to end up inevitably out singing the artists themselves.

despite the fact that the career path wasn’t fully backed by his Ivy League, white coat wearing, scholar of a father, he was determined to turn that childhood passion into a very successful and lucrative dream.

working religiously to fine tune his playing skills, along with his voice. He practically resided in the chorus and band classroom; perfecting his craft in all areas..drums, guitar, horns, piano, whatever you could think of.

he became so obsessed in fact that it left little room in his life for extracurricular activities, including a lot of friends or dates.

writing lyrics during class, skipping lunch to go toy around in the library with his laptop create beats..he was a natural born prodigy. Fast forward to college, where he made the very easy choice to study music engineering and mastering…

it was one night while he was working at a shoe store to fund his education that his coworkers decided to record him singing and rapping (all free-styled by the way) while he was doing inventory as a joke. Little did they know, they had just propelled him right into stardom.

coupled with his good looks, sultry lyrics and popularity, everyone wanted their chance to work with him.

there was only one tiny problem..as much as Eren loved creating music, he despised the spotlight even more! How ironic, right? He had no desire whatsoever to be anyone’s next Bieber or Post Malone.

that fame shit was good and dead to him. He truly believed there was no point in making his art to keep up with trends and other artists if your heart wasn’t in it. Not only that, the attention was insufferable.

they were more concerned with if he had a girlfriend, what he looked like or who he was fucking. His talent was on the back burner and it frustrated the hell out of him.

it was the very reason he didn’t respect a lot of today’s musicians. A lot of them weren’t even true or authentic to themselves and fed into that bullshit. That’s why he chose to stay behind the scenes.

it was easier to focus on what he loved rather than the stupidity. Shame it couldn’t allude him entirely because he was left with instances such as today. Grabbing a nearby water bottle, the visibly frustrated brunette unscrewed the cap and chugged the clear liquid down halfway.

at this point, he had heard all that was necessary. It was back to the drawing board because no way he was about to co-sign or engineer this bullshit.

“You’re just not seeing the vision, bro. Trust me on this.”

“I’m seeing something and it’s my patience wearing thin. Twenty four hours…that’s all you have to come back with some heat like I know you got. You’re better than this, man. If you don’t tighten up, you can forget me working on this goddamn album. I’m not even playing with you.”

the rapper knew not to test his luck any further. Friend or not, he wasn’t going to waste anymore of his precious time. Releasing a heavy huff, he’d hop up from his seat and grab his phone.

it didn’t come from a place of malice or hatred but Eren did have the tendency to come off a bit harsh. He didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just how he was and everyone had learned to deal with it.

he was the type of person that accepted nothing less than greatness from his artists so if he deemed it lazy or lackluster, his stamp would not be on it.

besides, he still had three other artists to see today and he didn’t have anymore time to waste on listening to this man let the beat whoop his ass for four tracks straight.

“Same time tomorrow then, man?”

“That depends on you. You bring me a hot pack of ass like this and you’ll be standing outside the door. Now goodbye.”

with that, he’d take his leave, security tailing behind him and a scowl on his face. Left shaking his head, Eren just released a heavy sigh before looking down at his mixing board.

"..does anybody take this business seriously anymore?"

just then, he was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. It was his agent..or rather the one who ran the show. Hesitant and just not in the mood to deal with this, he’d release a deep sigh and say a silent prayer before answering.

“Jesus, you look like shit. When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

and it seemed his prayers weren’t effective enough because he was seconds from snapping. The first words from the snarky woman’s mouth like daggers to his soul.

“Well good afternoon to you too, Mikasa.”

the two of them had been friends for quite some time and even the center of some weird dating rumors but for anyone that knew the duo, it was the furthest thing from.

despite him not making many records in the past few years, Eren still DJ’ed and promoted, as well as performed at some clubs, in addition to engineering and producing..so naturally someone had to arrange these happenings as a middle man.

but, being him, he could never make anything easy and was labeled like that of a diva. Hard to work with and always turning down things that didn’t appease him. Which naturally made her job a whole lot harder..

she was just the only one who refused to tolerate his bullshit!

“Don’t good afternoon me. I’ve been trying to track your ass down for two days and to no avail, of course you’re holed up in that damned studio like a hermit.”

he could hear what she was saying but in all honestly, he didn’t care. More than likely, she wanted him to go and DJ at some stuffy lounge riddled with coked up college kids and aspiring models who eat Xanax for breakfast.

totally not his speed.

nonetheless, he’d lean back in his chair, nonchalantly chewing on the end of a toothpick as he listened to her ramble.

it was obvious that nothing was getting through to that thick numbskull of his.

“And? I’m working. You’d know that if you were a good agent.”

just then, the short haired woman broke into a chuckle, clutching the steering wheel of her S Class Mercedes. And something told him it wasn’t because he said something funny.

“Don’t piss me off more than you already have. Listen, I have a job for you tonight..the new club that just opened up downtown. They need another promoter to help host and I told them you’d be perfect.”

that seemed to have piqued his interest but not because he was excited or anything but because it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Another?”

unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice!

“Yes, the IG model and dancer, (y/n) (l/n) she’s also going to be there tonight. Girl’s a pretty big deal and apparently, she brought out a lot of people.”

he was somewhat familiar with the name but he despised social media as much as he despised hosting. Besides, if he’s seen one, he’s seen them all: shallow, vain, Barbie types with nothing more than a BBL and vibes.

it wasn’t so much the looks that bothered him because they were absolutely beautiful but it seemed as if the whole industry was opportunistic and weird at this point. Everyone looking for a come up and a moment without true work..

“What the hell, Mika? You know I hate that shit. And I have two other recording sessions—

“Not anymore! My job is to get you paid and let’s be honest, the last two artists you produced for weren’t exactly cash cows. How long do you think this whole mysterious antisocial act is going to last? Sad to say, but your time is dwindling, my guy.”

just then, he’d roll his eyes emerald green eyes and just shrug it off but for once, he wasn’t about to pout and whine his way out of this..she was right.

EJ was one of the most popular artists in the world and although he had a pretty loyal fanbase, a lot of them were growing impatient and with new stars being made every three to five business days, people who were true to their craft no longer felt as if they had a place and people no longer reserved patience for artists taking years at a time to put out projects..

and she didn’t want him to be one of them! He belonged here just like everyone else but he had to show up sometimes!

releasing a sigh of her own, Mikasa just shook her head and hoped that he’d listen for once.

“We all have things we don’t want to do but I’m asking for once, stop being so goddamned selfish and only thinking of what Eren wants. There’s a world beyond your own little bubble and a lot of people are dependent on you. We’ll both get a good cut from this so I’m begging you not to screw this up.”

as much as this pained him, he did owe her this much for putting up with his erratic behavior. Besides, he’s put up with far worse in the past!

reaching into the pockets of his black Nike Techs, he’d retrieve two items: a pre-rolled blunt and a black lighter with his initials inscribed on it in gold. If they wanted him to interact with the outside world, he had to calm his nerves first!

“Alright, alright!..I’ll be there, damn..”

getting irritated with her voice and this entire conversation and honestly, the feeling was mutual.

“Let me find out you didn’t show up, I’ll kick down the door to that little hobbit hole of yours and break everything in my sight. Got it?”

and one thing he knew not to do was doubt that she would be capable of such a thing! He’d assure her that he’d be there..

“Loud and clear, drill sergeant.”

“Good boy. I don’t want to have to have this conversation again."

and with that, she’d disconnect the other line.

it was safe to say, he wasn’t thrilled about any of this but maybe stepping outside of his comfort zone would be good..maybe. But only time would tell!

•••••••••

meanwhile, on another side of the city, there was someone else dealing with the exact dilemma as the introverted engineer..

"So when we finish here, the car should be arriving shortly after..we’ll get you over to the club, let you do a walkthrough, get you changed and then you know what to do from there.”

the voice of a wiry and vivacious woman sprouted off the itinerary without so much as a second thought, scrolling through her iPad with the tap of a finger. Wired frame glasses dangling from the bridge of her button nose and her blonde locks styled into that of a high bun.

she was the hardworking assistant and right hand to upcoming model, influencer and dancer, (Y/N) (L/N) or (social media name) to her followers.

over the past couple of years, the esteemed exotic dancer amassed quite the following by posting videos of yourself dancing to several popular songs, even performing live with a ton of artists on stage.

you were the leader of a country wide collective of other dancers known as the Pole Assassins, who performed incredible routines. You gained quite the notoriety and in no time flat, you rose to instant stardom as social media’s newest vixen.

it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but it was quite the culture shock for the twenty something instructor who was just sharing your art with the world, only to now be thrust into a life of crazy living and insane work.

to having tons of strangers hurl wild opinions and insults in your direction unprovoked. Not to mention the millions of prying eyes on your every move..it was insane!

if you weren’t modeling and being sponsored for the newest fast fashion brand or some newfound tea company hoping to hook buyers on their repackaged laxatives, you were attending parties at some nightclub; hosting and hyping the crowd for whatever performer was headlining.

tonight would be no different..except maybe one thing.

“Yeah, I got it. Thank you, honey. By the way, do you know who this other host is?”

the woman, sitting cross legged whilst various people patted at her face with makeup brushes and sponges. You looked flawless already but they had to ensure that every part you was nothing less than perfection.

normally, you worked solo to make these events as lively as possible but the person you were set to work with was apparently a pretty big deal. A huge name in the music world was making a rare appearance tonight at this new grand opening.

“You haven’t heard? It’s Eren Jaeger, EJ, the singer..well he’s more of a producer now. He’s actually gonna be DJ’ing and performing tonight!”

that’s when your eyes nearly popped from yourhead. Now that was a name you hadn’t heard in a long time but it wasn’t due to him being washed up or outdated, he was just such an enigma in the music world now.

akin to something like a Frank Ocean or SZA..keeping fans sitting on the edge of their seats, wondering when he’d drop his next project.

his voice was beautiful, nearly enchanting and you had even used a couple of his pieces in some of your videos, dancing along to the slow, seductive sounds of the melodies. On the same hand, he made some of the hardest rap tracks you’d ever heard. And yet, for someone who made such music and as attractive as he was, he preferred to stay out of the limelight.

it seemed almost counterproductive but you also understood.

in the not so distant past, you saw horror stories of grown women grabbing at his privates on stage when he was only eighteen, girls sending him inappropriate pictures and just being weird.

watch one interview and even a blind man could tell it made him uncomfortable. The whole sex symbol allure wasn’t his thing.

in some ways, you resonated with him. You knew all too well what it felt like having your true craft pushed to the wayside all so people could create their own narratives. Rather than being recognized for the years of hard work and dedication it took to master the art of pole..you were now seen as nothing more than a cookie cutter Insta model with a pretty face and no substance.

some days, you felt like tossing that damn phone in the ocean and never looking back!

regardless, even though you didn’t know him personally, it was an honor to be in the presence of a musical great.

“I’m shocked they could even afford to bring someone like him out. That’s a huge name.”

“Yeah, well you’d be surprised. I seriously doubt it was something he was thrilled to do but we’ll see.”

(Y/N) mirrored his sentiment honestly but work was work and they had to do whatever necessary to pay the bills. As for you, you’d down a couple shots of liquid courage, throw on a tight body con dress, highest heels and work the crowd as per usual.

you just hoped that your co-host wasn’t a jerk as the rumors claimed.

later that evening…

night had fallen cast over the city's skyline and the party was merely at its inception. Guests were lining up near the entrance, lined up and ready to get inside to rub elbows with their favorite celebrities. All dressed up and at their best.

however, they weren’t the only ones..

a blacked out Audi R8 had just circled around the side entrance and killed its engine. The matte lights went dim and suddenly the passenger side door opened. Bystanders whispered in speculation as to who was inside but their minds would not be left to wander much longer.

followed by sounds ‘oohs’ and ‘oh my gosh’s’, out stepped a man in clothing resembling that of his car; all black with the exception of some silver chains, rings and studs in his ears. Combat type boots and cargos with a cut off black shirt showing off his numerous tattoos, along with a vest type harness. (inspo)

but it was the signature brown hair styled into a half up-half down bun that gave away his identity and it took no time for the fans to react. Screaming women of every variety began trying to surpass the barricade to get to him but were held back by bouncers and he was shielded by his security, who were eager to handle anyone approaching him, as he gave a swift wave.

underneath his black mask, Eren would muster up a faint smile and try to be as social as possible..all while praying that he’d get through this night quickly. His emerald green eyes were already glazed over from the blunt he had finished before leaving home and trust that it was much needed.

he was more than ready for this to be over with so he’d make his way through the side door and into the lounge where he was greeted by his agent and the energetic owner.

“There he isss, the man of the hour. It’s really an honor, EJ. Thank you again for this! You have no idea how much it means..”

the high pitched voice and effervescent personality belonged to Zoe Hange, a very affluent and well known promoter who owned many successful clubs and lounges all over the country. To have such big stars on opening night was a testament to their work.

gratefulness aside, he wanted to go home but before he’d end up saying something stupid, Mikasa would interject and cover for him.

“Likewise. We’re very happy that you reached out. We’re looking forward to it, aren’t we?” Shooting the musician a stern glare to assure he answered correctly. “For sure.” responding flatly. However, what would follow later would shift his mood entirely.

the vibrant owner, sporting their red and black pantsuit would exclaim, clasping their hands together. “Ahh, wonderful! As you can see, our stage is just to your left and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what to do. Just make magic up there, my dear. As for your co-host, she should be arriving shortly and we can get this thing started!”

his patience and social battery was already wearing thin so he hoped for this host’s sake that she didn’t disappoint either. That's when the momentary silence was interrupted by the sound of clacking heels.

"Hi, everyone. Hope I'm not late.." the soft voice spoke out, causing everyone in the room to shift their heads towards the right side. In came a woman wearing a short white dress, cut off just above the knees, tall clear heels and thirty inches of jet black hair flowing to her thin waist. Beautiful dark skin and nearly flawless makeup…the type of girl that turned heads when she walked in.

to say she was stunning was an understatement...and Eren could hardly keep his eyes off of her; definitely a first for the less than friendly performer. It took a lot to get his attention. "Not at all, actually you're just on time. Please join us."

Zoe would declare, waving a hand to bring the woman over. "This is (y/n) (l/n) or as some of you may know her, (social media handle). She’ll be working with us tonight as well. I’m sure between the both of you, it’ll be one hell of a show. Just give my new baby a proper welcoming party.”

“She is also my newest client and I’m very excited to have her on board. Thank you again for doing this on such short notice..” Mikasa chimed in as she swooped in to wrap you up for a tight hug. “I wish all my talent were as cooperative and flexible as you..” shooting the ever so silent singer a glare, to which he’d scoff.

but when you looked in his direction, his eyes shifted a bit and his cheeks raised from underneath that face covering before he turned his head. Inside, you were fangirling and freaking out. But you knew how reserved he was, not to mention his already annoyed expression..so you didn’t want to come off as a clout chasing groupie.

one thing you had noticed was how much more toned and muscular he had gotten since his hiatus. This man was swole to say the least!

as much as it pained him, he was still a professional about the whole thing. He realized there was no point in taking out his frustrations on the girl just trying to do her job as well. That and the fact he was taken aback by how stunning you were. He may have been a recluse but he was still a man nonetheless.

“..I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan. So it’s really an honor. The Living Dead Boy mixtape is one of my all time favorites.” Truth be told, he didn’t know how to take your compliment because he wasn’t expecting that. Not for such a pretty girl such as yourself to even know his music. And considering that was one of his more underground projects..that was impressive! Now here he was blushing like a damn fool.

“I—uh..thank you. Well I guess I should go get set up. See you in a little bit. " bidding you all adieu before walking off towards the backstage area. You would've liked to think that you greeted him kindly but it seemed that he was no more impressed by you than he was anyone else.

"Don't worry too much about him. He just takes some getting used to, that's all. Deep down, he's really a sweetheart..when he wants to be that is.." Mikasa would reassure, flashing you a warming smile. Maybe so but you had no time to worry about personal feelings or ego, as the club doors were set to open any minute.

you’d make your way to the backstage as well, making any last minute touch ups to your makeup. You had about ten minutes before you’d be summoned so in that time, while you were getting your face patted, (y/n) thought silently to yourself about how things would go. What if this man really didn’t like you and things went south? The last thing you wanted was the gig to be unsuccessful. Suddenly, a stage tech would come and whisper for you, signaling that your cue was in about ten minutes or so. Sounds of music coming from the front, signaling that the club was officially opened for business.

things would undeniably be different as you’d have to command the crowd for the entire night and keep them entertained. Most of the time, you were more so of a side attraction to whoever was performing so it was time to break out of your own shell and really come into your own tonight.

now..it was time to go to work!

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

two hours later..

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

“Everybody having a good time tonight?!”

the voice echoing throughout the nightclub, courtesy of a microphone held by the one and only (y/n) (l/n) aka (social media name). Met back with loud cheering and applause. So far, everything was going exactly as planned. All the patrons having a good time, lots of energy, wonderful music and just an all around good vibe.

which was wonderful news for the owner, Ms. Hange, who was thrilled to see that another one of her clubs launched off with such success. She had obviously made the right call hiring the best talent agent in the country. As for you, you were thrilled that you were able to make this party as live as possible. But little did they know that it was only starting..

“Club Lapis, y’all been so good to me tonight. Showing me so much love and popping out. I see a couple of familiar faces from Instagram..hey girl!” which was true because once you posted the club flyer to your Instagram, a decent chuck of your almost one million followers tapped in that were in the area. There were a few gorgeous women that you followed as well who decided to show up off of your namesake alone. Obviously, holding more weight than you expected but influencers were the new idols, some would say. You had been snapping pictures, taking videos and singing along and dancing with a lot of people. They were amped and now, it was time to give them the real main event.

“So, because y’all been so good to me…I got a lil’ something I wanna do for y’all. A surprise for everybody..” some were already privy to what, or who rather was waiting but for those who didn’t, you’d give one hell of an introduction! “I was talking with this person backstage and they said they were a little nervous to be here tonight..and I’m thinking to myself, ‘the only one nervous is me. I’m in the presence of greatness..and a good looking ass man’.” Everybody cracking up at your little jokes because you were always naturally funny without trying, which was also part of your allure; something a lot of these insta models didn’t have. “Baby in the front here losing her mind, trust me, girl..I understand now.” One of which who was spotted earlier yelling for him as he walked in.

it was true..you had the honor of actually having a conversation with him prior to this and Ms. Ackerman was right..he was incredibly sweet once you got the chance to talk to him. That and the fact he was higher than giraffe pussy so he wasn’t as irritated and nervous as before! Regardless, he was so kind and even thanked you for hosting with him. Despite his personal feelings about these sort of things, he was a professional and knew he had to do a good job for not only his sake but yours as well. Besides, he really did thrive when performing. So you’d do the best job possible, hyping him to the crowd..

“Not that he needs an introduction..’cause he been popping his shit longer than I’ve been around. And for all my followers, y’all already know how I feel about this man and his music. We’ve been lucky enough to get him to come out for us tonight so y’all better make some fucking noise and show all the love for The Prince of Trap and B himself..the Underground’s Greatest…”

as you were in the middle of doting and giving your speech, the people would start going crazy. Girls in full blown tears, people screaming and jumping around..that’s when you’d look back to see the legend Eren Jaeger himself walking up behind you, brandishing a microphone and a smile on his face. He’s as charming and handsome as ever. “Well damn..don’t I feel special?” That ever so smooth voice ending shivers up your spine.

and it doesn’t help when he places his hand around your waist and look down at you. He really is every bit of the flirt his persona portrays..

“Miss (y/n), you keep talking about me like that and imma start blushing and shit..”

muttering into his mic as he cradled his palm around your waist. He better had stopped before he caused a problem he wasn’t ready for! The scent of his cologne wafting through your nostrils, his warmth against your body..you had met a million rappers, chopped it up with the industry’s biggest but something about this man felt so familiar and..comforting. Like the two of you could be friends. He didn’t treat you like a stranger or act all irritable like before. So you’d use it to play up the moment.

“I mean, I gotta let the people know..brag on you for a minute, boo.”

“Well, I ain’t mad about it, baby. But I guess I should give everybody what they came here for, right?”

his rhetorical question being met with a loud response from everywhere.

now, anyone who didn’t know any better would’ve sworn that you guys had not only known each other for years but had a little something on the low. That wasn’t the case, even in the slightest. Honestly, with you, it felt natural and you just worked well together.

Outside of the little exchange backstage of how things would go and the two of you properly introducing yourselves, there wasn’t much else to indicate that he was cool with you but such was life and industry politics. People played pretend all the time for a check..something you learned fairly on.

however, something he said to you did stick as he noticed you fidgeting with one of your brushes, a sure sign of your anxiety about being a lead host tonight.

you were appreciative of his kind words and assurance that you weren’t alone in this. It was going to be fine as long as the two of you had fun. He even offered you a hit of his blunt to calm your nerves.

but either way, now, it was his turn to take over!

“Then I’ll just step over here to the side and let you handle your business—“ but as you were walking off the stage, he’d flash you a smile and wink. “Y’all give it up for the ever so lovely…and beautiful (y/n). She really has done a great job tonight.” Sending your heart fluttering and butterflies all throughout your stomach. Why was this man playing so much?! Nonetheless, you were flattered all the same and you’d blow a kiss to him; watching your hips sway as you walked off the stage.

the energy and chemistry between you two was insane and the crowd absolutely loved it! Because y’all were enjoying yourselves, so was everyone else and that’s what mattered!

considering you were just as big of a fan as everyone else, you were excited to watch him perform. Taking a glance back at his DJ, they’d have a little exchange and he’d really start to blossom; like the stage was where he came to life and nothing else mattered except the music. “Play that shit.” As soon as he gave the signal and that track dropped, the whole place went crazy! It was one of his most popular songs, 1st Degree, and most energetic. It was a trap song and you had heard it played everywhere when it first came out. In a matter of minutes, he’s hopping around in stage and going off. The crowd singing it louder than he was at some point.

pointing the mic out to them, they’d scream his lyrics back at him in intervals and he’d just laugh because seeing a bunch of bad bitches yell about gun violence and drugs was so funny. Including (y/n)..he couldn’t believe everyone still fucked with him this heavily. By the time, he finished, Eren would be met with loud screams and chants. Laughing, he’d cup his microphone and move across the stage, engaging with everyone.

“DJ, did you hear that? They were going harder than me!..what the fuck?”

to say he was impressed, was an understatement. He had never imagined that after all these years, he still had this kind of impact. Some people would try and downplay or talk shit about the fact that he was in a venue like this but for someone who was over the pressures of performing, this felt much more intimate.

he’d rather have a hundred loyal fans than thousands of people pretending to know his lyrics and stand there with their phones out. Right now, he was really feeling himself and although you had just met, as a long time fan, you were happy for him. Happy that he was so well received by the audience and not being made uncomfortable. This really was his element.

the show would go on and he’d do a few more songs, this time some of the ones where he was singing, which you personally preferred. This man’s voice was something serious…many of times had you constructed pole routine to his sensual lyrics. However, that’s when he done something a tad bit unexpected.. “Alright, so for this last song..we’re about to get a little sexy. On that demon time, as they say..”

everyone immediately laughing and knowing exactly what track he was referring to…the one that had women going crazy for months and men using it to spit game. It was the first time he had ever made a love song and needless to say, the internet went stupid. It was so freaky that the blog sites were talking shit. That’s when he knew he had a hit on his hands..

suddenly, the lights would dim and the entire vibe would change.

“Club Lapis, I’m in such a good mood tonight. I ain’t gone lie to y’all, I was a little nervous to come here, but I feel the love…so I’m gonna do a little something special. I feel like serenading somebody’s daughter.”

the entire place erupted in screams and women pointing to be chosen. “A couple of you are here with your man, I don’t want no problems tonight.” But Eren had already clearly had his mind on one person in particular..and it was no question. Flashing a big toothy smile, he’d direct his attention over towards the right before singling his sights on the far corner.

“Miss (y/n)..if you’d do me the honor of bringing your fine ass back up to the stage, please..”

‘oohs’ and ‘aah’s’ sparking immediately after. Your cheeks began to burn something fierce…Eren fucking Jaeger was up on stage, flirting with you! This did not feel real whatsoever. Regardless, you made your way back up there. You’d look over to see people breaking their thumbs, sending out a plethora of tweets.

climbing the steps, he’d assist you with an extended hand. Right there underneath the beaming spotlights, the two of you would lightly clutch fingers as he stood there, smiling. Seeing him up close was like a dream. The fantasy of many fangirls who’d fawned over him since his debut and here you were getting the first hand experience. Those piercing green eyes glaring right into your own and sending your heart racing.

finally, the instrumental would begin to play and Eren began to belt out the tune. As per, he sounded amazing; those lyrics making things just that much better..talking about fucking until the bed broke, making movies and making her wet. Whoever the inspiration was behind that song was one lucky ass bitch! Pining over to the crowd, he’d let the lovely bunch of ladies huddled at the front of the stage mimic the song back to him before taking over the next verse and just for the occasion, he had slightly altered the words.

“Know I said that I can’t stay with you, no I can’t make you my wife but (y/n), if you let me in it, I swear I’ll change your life.”

crooning before running his finger underneath your chin.

sending the crowd into a frenzy. Mainly because everyone could see how fast you were folding on that stage, after having been so poised and professional all night! One thing stood true; he may not have been that way in real life, but EJ the stage persona was a whole slut and a half! No wonder the podcaster bitch boys talked so much about him. He had their dream girls about to faint.

once the song reached its conclusion, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. But he knew he better had booked it to the back before somebody’s hormonal girlfriend rushed the stage.

“Thank you Club Lapis, goodnight!”

leaving to a loud chant of his name, thunderous claps and cheers. Ending on a high note if he had to say so himself. Right now, he was on a cloud that he didn’t want to come down from and he had the perfect way to remain there.

meanwhile, (y/n) would address the audience once more, thanking them for such a wonderful evening, being so nice to both of them, to be safe and enjoy the rest of their night here. Once that was done and the DJ proceeded to resume his regular track list, you were since again stopped by fans and patrons alike, asking for pictures and saying how jealous they were that you were being sang to like that.

trust, it wasn’t something that you were expecting either but you played your role well. Now it was time to relax with a few drinks.

Ms. Hange had took the liberty of reserving VIP for the two of you once the show ended to unwind with complimentary and unlimited bottle service. You weren’t a heavy drinker by any means but why not take advantage?

honestly, once the adrenaline of the moment wore off, you grew fatigued. All of the stimulation of the loud noises and screaming people was a bit much. However, you had to fulfill your obligations.

ten minutes or so passed and it seemed that you’d be unwinding on your own..that was until you heard a familiar voice. “So this is where my beautiful co-host ran off to..”

it was the star himself and he seemed to be sporting a new outfit.. still all black with those silver chains dangling around his neck. He looked good, which was no surprise. As he kneeled to sit down, he’d scoop you in a tight hug in one fell swoop. At this point, there was no question of what his feelings were towards you. He could’ve easily dipped and had his security get him up out of here but he stayed.

“God, you sounded amazing up there! I never thought I’d get to hear the great EJ The Don in person.” Blushing at the mention of just one of his many stage names, that one being more so his producer tag. Truthfully, he just went up there and done what he enjoyed the most..sharing his music with the world.

as he took a seat next to you, he’d pour up a glass of vodka, matching your own. Casually shrugging his shoulders, he’d swirl it around a bit before knocking back a sip. “Just doing my job, that’s all. I gotta say, you did your thing too. Told you, you’d be fine.” Being reaffirmed by someone so iconic was the highest of compliments.

“I’d say you did more than that. I ain’t mad though.” Smirking in his direction before drinking from your own glass and giving him a side eye. It seemed that he was comfortable enough for you two make jokes and honestly, he had never felt that way about anyone, less known someone he had only met. Maybe it was the courage of being crossfaded but Eren truly felt at ease around you for some reason.

and you mirrored that sentiment. It wasn’t uncommon for these gigs to go left when some artist decided to get too handsy or be disrespectful of your boundaries but that wasn’t the case here. He was so sweet and down to earth.

“Aye, you said let’s entertain them so that’s what I did. Besides, you standing up there, looking all cute and shit..I couldn’t help it.” Before long, the pair was laughing and giggling, chopping it up as if no one else was around. The flirtatious tension was getting out of hand!

“You mind if I scoot a little closer, miss (y/n)? I don’t want to get in your personal space.”

“Go right ahead.” eventually letting him drape his arm around the back of the couch and move a couple inches towards you. Being all cozied up to a superstar like him was surreal and people would most certainly have their fair share of opinions and commentary, you were certain.

nonetheless, the evening continued on as normal. The two of you talking as if you’ve known each other for a long time. Rather than bore you with stories of how he got his start that could be found with a simple YouTube search of his interviews, he wanted to hear your background. He only knew of you through social media circulation but he figured there had to be more to the illustrious (social media name).

“So I gotta ask..how in the hell did you manage to get tangled up with mad woman Mikasa and let her talk to you into this?”

when you began to gain a little more notoriety, it was only natural to get an agent to help capitalize on this newfound fame and get the real money coming in. She didn’t have her reputation for nothing..Ms. Ackerman worked harder than the devil himself and she didn’t hesitate to take care of you so when she decided to team you two you up, little did they know just how much of a genius she was.

so that’s when you told him about your journey through learning pole, going on tour with a bunch of different artists and serving as a backup dancer. It was a lot of fun but outside of work, you never made it your business to be chummy with your cohorts. You done the job you are paid for and then went on about your business. It was lonely but for the best, considering how weird some folks moved.

and Eren felt the same. He didn’t have many friends in this industry. Hell, it was almost ironic because the fans adored him but a lot of fellow artists didn’t really have much to say about him as a person. Sure, they respected his craft but he didn’t make it his mission to get close to anyone..until now.

you definitely had his interest piqued, to say the least! Having a conversation with (y/n) was somewhat refreshing. You weren’t another groupie trying to play in his face or look for a come up. You didn’t treat him like you were trying to kiss his ass or anyone else’s..it was just a normal vibe and one he hadn’t shared with someone in a long time..so much so, that you had this man laughing and smiling like a fool. Maybe this whole gig wasn’t a bad idea!

“Wait a minute, you’re friends with Jean Kirschtein? I danced at one of his shows in Chicago last year.”

“Friends is a strong word, I prefer pain in the ass. No offense, but dude gets on my fucking nerves.”

the bold statement sending you doubling over in laughter. Not because you didn’t like the rock singer, he was actually very nice but the fact that he was just spilling all types of tea to you as if you guys were best friends! That’s when he explained that they were signed to the same label for a while and that he was actually engaged to his best friend and manager, Mikasa. Literally the only reason he tolerated him.

“Well damn. Can’t say I blame you..some people in this business will turn you against it real fast. Of course, I’m sure you’re the last person I have to tell that, but then there’s others who are…really sweet.”

swirling your fingertip around the perimeter of your glass as you shot him a glare, as well as a warm smile. One that made his cheeks immediately glow red, even under the fluorescent lighting. It was adorable..

scooting a bit closer, he’d glare down at your smaller frame and curl his tongue across his top row of teeth. This man was dangerously handsome that it made no sense whatsoever! “I agree..it’s not so bad all the time.” For a moment, you two were locked in an intense gaze; one that wasn’t typical of complete strangers but here you were!

suddenly, the eye contact was broken when he’d turn his head to the side and whisper something to you. “I think they’re staring at us..” referring to the group of girls pointing with their cellphones out, jumping up and down as if they were a couple of TMZ reporters getting the latest scoop.

this was the sole reason he despised being out in public, because this is what it always resulted in. Cue the hundreds of messages from nosy ass bloggers and messy people trying to get in his business but tonight? He was in a bit of a mood to match their energy and hopefully shoot his shot! Luckily, you were on the same type time he was..

“I think they are..wonder what they’re up to?..” questioning rhetorically with the coyest smirk on your face. It was insane how equally yoked you both were in just this short amount of time. But he had an idea that would really have them going crazy.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, miss (y/n)?” and it went without saying that you most certainly were. This liquor and weed had the two of you playing a very dangerous game but what was the worst that could happen? Hell, blow up the internet for all of twenty four hours before they fixated on something else? He needed a little excitement in his life..had been a while since he caused some controversy!

giving him a nod, you’d shift in your seat to stare right at one another. The chemistry was undeniable and as someone who was in a position that half the bitches here would murder for..you didn’t turn down the opportunity! Leaning over, Eren nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck; his breath causing the minuscule hairs to rise on your skin.

his right hand resting gently on your thigh but not moving too far up to where you’d be uncomfortable and proceeded to pretend he was kissing you. “Just play along..let’s give their asses something to talk about.”

breaking into a toothy smile, (y/n) shook your head and bit your lip at the feeling of this man’s hands on you for the second time tonight. “Mr. Jaeger, you are something else, you know that?” But like clockwork, flashes would begin to flicker from every iPhone in the vicinity. Even hearing a few people muttering..you most certainly had never experienced anything like this before!

“I’ve heard worse said about me..”

the last thing you needed was for everyone to spin the rumor mill that you were fucking rappers now but honestly, you wouldn’t know how to act if he really did kiss you, less known done anything else. But somehow, you didn’t care..you were really enjoying yourself. And honestly, didn’t want this night to come to an end. So your ever so charming cohort would make another suggestion..

“Y’know, I’m a little over all this and if I’m not mistaken, we’ve fulfilled our obligation for the night. So if you don’t have any plans, how ‘bout we go chill somewhere else? That’s if..I’m not being too forward or nothing..”

offering as he stood to his feet, stretching out his muscles before extending his hand yet again.

normally, you’d decline with the quickness and say you were tired but something told you, you’d be missing out on a good time if you did. And that he’d be super disappointed as well. So, you done exactly what you felt was right…

“Not at all..”

accepting his grasp, he’d help you to stand and keep your footing; continuing the theme of being an absolute gentleman. Time to keep the party going in a much more private manner.

“You just lead the way..”

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

tag list: @vixxennxx @bisexualfenty @whorrorifics @potofstewie @daisynik7 @hoohoohope @chickenwingsandfries3425

1K notes · View notes

hitlikehammers · 4 months

Text

the rhythm and the music

rating: t ♥️ cw: emotional hurt/comfort, criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!eddie having a sad for missing his husband (on the road), deep undying love ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, rockstar husbands, emotional hurt/comfort, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day ten: Love is missing each other (@lihhelsing)

this is 100% the first attempt to separate the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien for the sake of a show ♥️ (with the title being a callback to this instalment)

The facts are these:

They’ve just played their first show not-in-driving-distance of where they live. They have a label, and management, and publicists, and they made sure their shit was all paid for. They’d been asked if they wanted to get a tour bus together, or if they’d wanted someone to book them plane tickets—Eddie’d never even been on a plane before. They’d opened for fucking Slayer, and how, and during their set they’d hyped the album they were releasing later in the year—and how—it was just…it was amazing. It was everything Eddie’d dreamed of since he picked up a guitar and strummed so hard it stung his fingers.

Eddie’s walked ten paces from the stage, and it’s not for the joy of it, or even the overwhelm, that he thinks he’s gonna fucking cry.

Because the rest of the facts, are these:

Eddie hasn’t slept on his own in literal fucking years. Meaning he hadn’t slept without Steve—as his friend, as his lover, as his boyfriend, as his fiancé, as his husband, as his life-mate, as the love of his life and the mate of his soul, as his whole goddamn heart and then some—he hasn’t slept without Steve since—

Since the fucking Upside Down.

And yeah, he’d hugged him for probably ten whole minutes before they’d climbed out to make security at O’Hare, they’d been close to missing the flight altogether and there’d been a part of Eddie that wouldn’t have cared in the slightest if they had, would have called Steve back and greeted him as if they’d been separated a month and not less than an hour. And yeah, he’d called Steve’s when they’d landed at the first payphone he could find, breathless and clinching it fit to snap the receiver in two, its outline bright red against his hand for most of the afternoon. And yeah, he’d called again in someone’s office he probably shouldn’t have been in, on a separate floor of the venue, where he’d sneaked in and dialed and just asked if Steve would talk to him, not because he was nervous, but because…

Because he fucking missed him. Like, like his bones, or his veins knew on some cosmic level they’d been separated from the best part of any of them, the only reason for any of them to hold up his body at all: he could feel the distance between him and the heart he called home so clearly, this bodily loss in him, he feels a lot like how he felt when he realized there were goddamn holes in his ripped by those fucking bat, but this is bigger, because there’s a whole of him missing and people have always made comments, how they’re attached at the hip, codependent lobbed around by their brainier friends in varying tones that honestly, Eddie couldn’t give a fuck less to read into because yes, he depends on Steve, Steve is tied into the fucking cells of him, he makes up more of Eddie than probably Eddie makes up of himself, at this point, and Eddie would not have it differently for a second, doesn’t know if he remembers how to breathe in a version of his body that’s not this comprised of Steve-Steve-Steve: and doesn’t fucking want to. Remember.

What it’s like without.

And this, right here: this moment, a thousand miles away from the whole of him, when he should be on top of the world by rights?

Eddie’s having trouble with that breathing thing. These lungs don’t know what to make of air that’s not…that’s not made up of Steve, even just a little.

He waves off his bandmates, says he just needs some water, knows they’re planning to go out for the night and celebrate and honestly, all he wants it to give them the slip, feign an ache pounding in his head instead of the very real one throbbing like an open wound inside his chest. He thinks he almost manages until:

“Eddie!”

Their manager’s a petite woman, always in high-tops, wears lipstick but bites it off too often for it to stick for long, and Eddie adores her to pieces. His steps falter as soon as he hears her call out for him, and shit: betrayers, his own fucking feet. He has to turn now.

She’s smiling so goddamn bright that Eddie almost feels bad that the best he can fake for her right now is a grimace, his heart too sour as it struggles with the remembering, too—how is it supposed to beat, anyway, there are chambers in it, right, so is it one at a time, the top and the bottom together, one top one bottom, none, all, it’s so confusing, where’s his Steve—but he meets her grin and weirdly enough it doesn’t dim in the face of his expression, however pathetic it has to look.

“There’s someone who wants to see you,” she says, doesn’t wait for his response as she taps his shoulder as indication to follow when she leads the way.

“Morgan,” Eddie tries to halt her momentum because he can’t, he really just, he can’t right now, okay? He’s so grateful for the fans, and he’s sograteful for the band and the higher-ups that got them here and inviting them on this tour specifically but Eddie kinda things he’s about to collapse, or that some seams in him that he doesn’t know the exactly location of are going to pop and he’s going to spill out all blood and viscera right here on the floor and he just, he—

“Waiting for you in there, pet,” Morgan knocks on the door to one of the prep rooms that Eddie wasn’t entirely sure was made to be used how they’d used it, but it’d hadn’t mattered, they’d played their damnedest and it had been a fantastic show, if they were going to make their mark and draw in their base this was how they were gonna do it, but Eddie…

Eddie’s never played to a crowd, be it ten or ten-thousand, without Steve. Not…not since Steve.

He doesn’t think he can do this. He just wants to go home, and if he can’t go home, then he just wants to find the hotel they’re springing for and call his husband and fall asleep to the sound of his voice, his breathing, until he has to get up and start this all over again. He—

“Just a couple minutes, Eddie,” Morgan’s voice is pitched lower, and her expression is softer now, prodding but almost lulling, like she sees just a hint of his inner torment. “Then you’re free to go wherever you need, okay?”

Eddie nods, and she lays a land on his shoulder as she leaves him be; doesn’t stay to watch if he’ll turn the handle or bail. Trust him enough.

Goddamnit.

He swallows, pulse heavy and off-rhythm in his throat as he grabs the knob and pushes in.

Just a couple minutes.

He braces himself, tries to school his expression into something better than the grimacing, just a couple minutes—

It’s useless, though.

Because as soon as the door opens, his face fucking, just, falls.

Hell: the whole of him falls, the coming-apart-at-the-seams he was fighting, fearing, his goddamn knees give out on him—

But he doesn’t hit the floor.

No: strong arms wrap around him, an equally-strong and solid chest cushions him and he clings, he clings because the whole of him is coming back together, the missing pieces slotting instantly back into their proper places, he breathes in, and it works this time, because:

“Stevie,” he moans, and fuck yeah he’s kinda sobbing, because his Steve.

Is here.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Steve’s stroking his curls still damp from the sweat, for all the run and jumping under the stage lights; “it’s all okay.”

“Baby,” Eddie keeps his chest to Steve’s chest almost compulsive; almost magnetic, but he tips is head back to see him, just to drink him in.

“Oh my god,” he marvels; “babydoll,” and he traces Steve’s cheek, his lips, disbelieving save that everything feels lighter, and he doesn’t disappear for the touch, and that means he’s real; he’s here.

“When—“ he starts, a little lost and still awe-struck, breathless in a new and much sweeter way.

“The whole time, love,” Steve brushes a curl back behind Eddie ear, so delicate: “the flight was delayed.”

Eddie tips his head; it doesn’t make sense.

“Delayed?”

And Steve just smooths both those warm palms, so broad and sure, down either side of Eddie’s neck to hold to him as he smiles so soft:

“I booked it at the counter as soon as I dropped you off,” Steve tells him simply, then the softness veers a little pained:

“I saw the look in your eyes,” and he leans to kiss Eddie gentle, and Eddie fucking soaks in the sensation full-on and unabashed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, you were already through security, and then I ran to your gate before mine and you were gone there already, too,” he tries to apologize for…what, knowing Eddie too well, for seeing the hurt in his heart and making a U-turn immediately to fix it, damn the consequences: and how. Why?

There’s nothing here but being grateful, and thankful, and undeservedly lucky, that the partner of his whole goddamn life would do that. There’s no…no apology, there, it’s—

“We can’t do this,” Steve says softly, and maybe there’s something in Eddie’s expression, or the way that he’s quiet, or the way that he’s shaking a little, or that he tears are silent but still streaming: maybe all of the above and more, but: Steve sees.

Steve knows.

So does Eddie.

“I know,” Eddie nods; inhales deep: “I know, I thought this was for me,” he bites his lip and shakes his head, now: “I thought I could—“

“It is for you, are you kidding?” Steve cuts him off, leaning in and framing his face now, baffled and adoring all at once. Eddie stills for it, confused but loved so quick and sure and strong in just those words, in just that touch.

“You were made for this,” and it’s so fucking strange, the way those words warm him and fall sour all at once, but it’s not on bit strange that he feels beloved, treasured for all of it, no questions, no exceptions: no contest.

But…Eddie could give this up: the touring. Even the music, at least like this. He could; he would.

He can’t, and won’t, give up Steve for another goddamn night. And fuck: he didn’t even last the whole night.

He doesn’t understand what Steve means—

“The thing where we’re apart,” Steve says clear but still so gentle, still cradling Eddie into him: “that’s what we can’t do.”

Right. Right, exactly, but then—

“So I come with you,” Steve answers the question unasked, and does it like it’s simple, like there’s no question: “we budget differently at home, we—“

“No, we write this into the label’s budget,” Eddie surges into the exchange vehement, relentless suddenly and he…he’ll leave this, he knows it in his bones; if he has to there is only one thing he cannot be without: “if the band wants me, and if the label wants the band,” he shakes his head, defiant; “one more ticket can’t be what makes or breaks them.”

And fuck them, if it is.

And god: the way Steve captures his lips is like a bolt of lightening, it jolts through his veins: it’s revitalizing, it’s resuscitating, it’s life itself, it’s everything.

“Maybe I could be like,” Steve speaks breathy between their lips; “some kinda of manager, or security, like on paper?” then they’re lost to kissing, licking, biting a little and he only adds on when they part for breath:

“Personal assistant, I don’t give a flying fuck, Eds,” Steve gasps, then dives in, frames his face and pulls him in and then rests their foreheads close as he breathes:

“I need you,” and he kisses it into Eddie in a way Eddie’s never felt before, so much weight: “I need you.”

“You’re the air,” Eddie breathes back, bowled over by Steve’s ferocity and the rise of fervent need, undying love in him to match.

“It felt like I was,” he licks his lips, doesn’t want to go back to feeling so lost and pained as he walked off the stage; “I,” he gnaws a little on his bottom lip then, until Steve swipes a thumb over it, soothing him away with such gentle care as it gives him courage to put words to what he knows so deep:

“I don’t remember how to be without you.”

And it’s in the quiet between them just so that Eddie clocks his pulse against Steve’s hold, evident for the pressure of Steve’s touch and he chuckles, watery; Steve’s eyes slant in askance. He grins a little, just shy of sheepish, but brings Steve’s hand to his chest without a thought, the whole of him given to this man without question; always.

“It’s right again,” he breathes out, and yeah, yeah; “it was like it forgot how,” and he presses Steve closer as he squeezes Steve’s fingers in the cadence of his own blood, for the words he can’t quite get out.

“But that’s how it felt, like it forgot so it was just,” Eddie shakes his head, then brings Steve’s fingers up to his mouth to kiss as he whispers: “a mess.”

And he bows his head close, and misses seeing Steve’s eyes for it, but Steve is everywhere, Steve is here, Eddie can hear him breathe, the world’s at rights, and before, it was—

“I was a mess,” Eddie chokes out, leaning more into Steve’s touch than kissing on his hand but it’s okay, it’s all okay because Steve’s there, and he knows, and he’s reaching and cradling and bringing Eddie to his shoulder, wrapping around him and—

Eddie doesn’t have to be a mess anymore.

“I love you so goddamn much,” Steve breathes, and just holds him tight, safe, and it’s everything he needs. It’s perfect. Steve’s perfect.

They’re perfect.

“You saw the show?” he asks, voice a little tinier than usual when he finally stills, sniffles, leans back just the slightest bit.

Steve nods, kisses the tip of his nose. “You were incredible,” he tells him honest, shining so bright with it: the joy and the pride, in Eddie; “just like always.”

And Eddie bites his lip and hides back in Steve’s embrace again, but this time he’s smiling so fucking hard.

“The boys going out?” Steve asks after a couple beats, into the curtain of Eddie hair.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to go with?”

It’s an answer with no expectation, only curiosity. Which might make it…harder.

But so much better.

“I,” Eddie starts, makes himself straighten a little, bear some of his own weight. “I wasn’t gonna,” he swallows hard before admitting:

“Was gonna just go back and call you.”

Steve doesn’t apologize, or pity him. Steve doesn’t do anything but run hands up and down his arms, his neck, his back: present. Support. Love, always. For all of it.

No matter what.

“This is big, baby,” he finally breaks the still, but never stops the soothing motions of his hands: “I will do whatever you want to, whatever you want me to,” he tells Eddie, clear and devoted and once more time: no wrong answers. “I can come with you, I can go back to the hotel with you,” his voice dips a little lower and his smile turns a little sly; “I can wait in the hotel,” and for the first time Eddie laughs, just the littlest bit, heart leaping the tiniest little jump: “for you,” and it doesn’t have to be sad again, or really ever, for Eddie to know without a shred of doubt.

There’s no wrong answer.

“I don’t want to be without you,” is the surest, purest thing he knows, so he starts there. “Not right now, not,” he swallows hard and meets Steve’s gaze, no matter how watery his own starts to get, yet again: “not ever.”“Okay,” Steve answers with a nod: whatever Eddie wants.

Jesus H. Christ: but beyond this man, what more could he ever want?

“I should celebrate with them,” Eddie settles on as an answer finally, whenSteve doesn’t move, when his strength and his steady presence bolsters him without end, here: “this was a big deal,” and it was. Before the loss and the wishing and the missing consumed him, Eddie was very much aware of that. He knows, now, they never should have tried to be apart like this. It wasn’t worth it.

He knows, now, that they’ll never try again: and that’s what counts. “You okay with that?” Steve prompts, so clearly in Eddie’s corner, so ready to support whatever’s best for him, and fuck anyone else.

Eddie loves him so goddamn much.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s able to answer with a level of certainty that would maybe surprise him, if Steve weren’t here like this at his side:

“Yeah, I am,” and Steve smiles at him like the goddamn sun coming out from the clouds, like he always does, the body Eddie charts his orbit around by rote:

“Sounds like you’ve got a plan, then,” and Eddie can’t help it, he cannot possibly help but to lean in and capture those grinning lips, to devour some of that endless light.

“I love you with everything, Steve Harrington,” Eddie breathes, wondering again; “whatever comes of any of this,” he drags his lip against Steve’s with every syllable: “you know that you’re my one and only, my first and foremost,” and he draws back just enough to lock eyes, and make sure: “yeah?”

And Steve holds his gaze for a moment, another, before he smiles a different smile; his own kind of wonder. “Never thought I’d be able to say it,” he shakes his head with that warm, that grin; “but yeah,” and it’s honest, and Eddie’s chest swells for it: “I do know.”

That….that right there is worth more than any tour, or headline, any album or award. Steve is worth more; but Steve knowing he’s loved?

Eddie could never do a goddamn thing in this world more worthwhile.

“You’re my heart and soul,” Eddie breathes into him: “the rhythm and the music,” he reminds him, as he often does, because it’s always true.

“That and more, baby,” Steve answers, because he always does just the same: “all that and more.”

And he means it. They both do. They have always meant it.

“Let’s not keep the guys waiting,” Steve grabs Eddies hand, gives him time to change course if he needs to as he laces them together one by one.

But Eddie’s not changing any course. He’s just grateful to be tethered to Steve so tight, for whatever comes next.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #established steddie #rockstar!eddie munson #slice of life #love so deep you can't see the bottom #steddielovemonth #love is missing each other #stranger things

172 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 11 months

Note

EDDIE MUNSON - OURS

😭😭😭

ours (eddie’s version)

warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff <3

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: i got a little carried away. but i wish i had an eddie munson to go home to each night and just kiss and cuddle goddamn it

“Oh, is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s… interesting.”

“I guess when you said you had a boyfriend, I never envisioned someone like him.”

“You two are such… opposites! I mean- no! No, not a… bad thing, I suppose. Just… interesting.”

You were growing tired of it. You know people didn’t mean for their incessant questions or comments to get under your skin so badly, but they did. Any time someone at your new job caught sight of your phone’s lock screen – a joyous selfie of you and a sunburnt Eddie at the lake – or your work computer’s screen saver – a photo taken at dusk of Eddie on your couch, strumming on his guitar completely unaware – they had something to say. Something to point out. Whether it be the way you two didn’t seem to fit in their minds, or how rough around the edges he seemed to be. Some coworkers even pressed on how long you two had been together, pulling out the marriage card at a completely inappropriate time. One coworker had even made a snide remark on his long hair, saying “oh, I thought that was a girl! What a relief!”. It just…. It dug beneath your skin every time without fail, making you uncomfortable and irritated all in the same breath.

You don’t understand why they cared so much. It wasn’t their relationship – they didn’t know you. You’d only started the job a few months prior. They could eat shit, for all you care.

Today had been a bad day. Maurice, one of the elderly women who worked at the front reception desk, had just been awful. She was always talking of you going on a date with her grandson, each time conveniently forgetting that you were already happily in a relationship, but today she’d crossed a line. She’d had her grandson physically come into the office at lunch time, and caught you just as you were on your way out the door to try and pick up something to hold you over until five o’clock would finally arrive.

The one day you didn’t pack your own lunch. Go figure.

“Oh! Dear! Over here!” she called to you as you tried to scurry past her desk. You had held out the hope that the young man standing beside her would have occupied her, but no. No such luck for you on this wicked Thursday.

You took a deep breath before you turned slowly, forcing a polite smile as you faced the elderly woman, “What can I do for you, Maurice?”

“This is my grandson!” she animatedly motioned to the blonde boy at her side, and as he looked up, your stomach dropped, “Jason! The one I was telling you about!”

Jason fucking Carver.

“Oh,” you tried to keep kind in your tone, but you were already feeling hatred prickle at the back of your neck. You knew all about Jason — he’d made Eddie’s life living Hell too many times to count. He was nothing like the angel Maurice had tried to paint, “I… It’s nice to meet you, Jason, but I really should get going. I’m on my lunch.”

Jason didn’t take the social cue, stepping forward and stretching out his hand towards you, “Pleasure to finally meet the beautiful coworker my grandmother has been going on and on about. Words really didn’t do you justice.”

Gag. “You’re too kind. I do hope she also mentioned I’m already spoken for.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, glancing at Maurice for a second. “You’re taken?”

You opened your mouth to say, yes, I am happily taken, but Maurice was already waving her hands about as if that fact of the matter was nothing more than trivial smoke. “Technicalities. She has a fling with that Munson boy-“

“It’s not a fling,” you stressed, your patience meeting its end, “We’ve been together for years. We live together. I’m really sorry, Jacob,” you purposefully say the wrong name as you turn to Jason, exasperated and not sorry in the slightest, “But I’m not interested. I’ll see you after lunch, Maurice.”

You think you heard Jason call out a correction of his name from behind you, but you paid him no mind. Fuck him.

You ended up taking a longer lunch, not even caring for the consequences just so you could sit in your car and call Eddie. You described each person who walked into the building that you caught sight of, completely forgetting to scavenge a snack, too wrapped up in giggling at every ridiculous joke or story he makes up for the strangers.

He made it feel better. Maurice and Jason and everyone’s incessant comments forgotten. Their judgments never took this into consideration — this tranquility and Eddie’s ability to make you laugh until your ribs ached. They never considered the love that carried you home each night.

Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You practically speed the entire way home, forgetting to watch for any police cars half the time. Your poor front door cries out on its hinges as you barrel through it with only one thing on your mind: Eddie.

“Hey baby-“ Eddie tries to greet you, but he hardly has the time to set his guitar to the side before you’re falling into his lap where he sits on the couch. “Oof, bad day?”

Your thighs bracket his hips and your nose is already nuzzling into his neck, his soft laughter shaking his shoulders slightly as your arms wind themselves around him to the best of your abilities. He returns the favor without hesitation; arms hold you close to his chest and you can feel his nose dip to graze along your temple.

“The absolute worst,” your voice is muffled by his neck, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you continue, “I swear to God, if I had know this office was full of such judgmental assholes I would have never-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he pulls you back slightly, bringing his hands up to hold both cheeks between his palms as his thumb trails softly against your cheek bone, “Are they being mean to you? Because if they are, just say the word – I’m not afraid to kick a couple of grandmas’ asses.”

You laugh, sniffling a bit, still on the verge of tears out of relief of being home with him finally, “No, no. You don’t need to go and kick any elderly ass – today.”

“What about tomorrow?”

You pretend to think about it as you finally slide off his lap, sitting to his side as your legs remain draped on his lap. He’s quick to reach down and let his calloused fingertips graze a trail down your thigh, ending at your ankle before he wraps them around it and squeezes softly, “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.”

“Yeah?” he questions, leaning his face down to your shoulder, peppering kisses there, eyes still attempting to glance up at you in adoration through thick lashes, “So not a no. Got it. I’ll have my boxing gloves at the ready.”

You both laugh as Eddie continues his short assault of kisses.

Your coworkers can say whatever they want. They can judge the two of you based on short snapshots all they please – they can’t take this from you. Not as his lips brush your collarbones, not as his palms massage your calves, and certainly not as he murmurs soft declarations of how much he missed you all day against your skin.

“Say, you wanna play a song for me on that guitar, rockstar?” you say as you thread your fingers through his curls, noting the way they’re extra soft, as if he’d done a hair mask like you always pestered him to.

He lifts his head and leans back casually against the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he smiles at you like you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand, “Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna spend some time with my baby.”

“Oh, I see,” you snort, “You’re gonna break out sweetheart instead? No more dragon-slaying for today?” you joke, referencing his nicknames for his two guitars.

He only shakes his head and rolls his eyes at you, surging forward and capturing your lips against his, teeth clashing a bit due to both of your wild grins. He has you falling backwards into the couch cushions in an instant and lets his weight settle between your thighs, enveloping you in smells of home. Just him, just you, just the love that you two have gardened here. No opinions of others ever needed.

“Shut up. I love you.”

“and it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong. and your hand’s a tough but they are where mine belong.”

#speak now (ghost's version)#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #my writing

824 notes · View notes

yunhofications · 1 year

Text

rock with you - j.yh

pairings: dom!yunho x switch!fem reader

chapters: 1/2

synopsis: yunho’s a rockstar and doesn’t care about anyone but himself, at all. he loves the attention he recieves, but the only attention that really matters to him is from the girl who can’t seem to stand him at all. well, thats what she tells herself anyway.

warnings/tags: yunho’s kind of a dick, but not really, size kink, dumbification, choking, man handling, biting/marking, praise. hes quite a mean n rough dom, fingering, cheating implied (not by yunho), pet names, drinking. no actual sex in this part

word count: 3.7k

authors note: hi! this is my first ever suggestive fic, i originally was only going to do one part but im going to do two now, if this chapter does well :] i hope you all like it, im new at writing these things!

it was a Sunday night, 9:54 pm to be exact. The bar wasn’t crazy busy considering most people had work the next day and normal individuals wouldn’t spend their free night before work drinking their sorrows away in a lousy run down bar. Not that it phased you in the slightest, you brushed off the judgmental stares and glares from the bartender since you were probably on your 20th shot and you had the tiniest little body. Who the fuck is fitting in that much alcohol without getting drunk? Well, you were pretty tipsy and your eyes were slowly giving out, as well as your entire body, about to hit your head against the wooden bar counter before a hand slips in and stops you from getting a concussion.

You don’t give it much thought, perhaps it was just the bartender, or some random stranger who was afraid you’d die or something from slamming your head down. But it wasn’t. Oh how you wished you were dreaming, and that your mind was playing a little trick on you from all the emotions and all the god damn alcohol that was running through your veins. Then the voice spoke. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, you hated it. “Y/N.” You could hear how smug the voice was, you could hear the smirk on their lips. Fuck.

“Go to hell Yunho.” Your words being just a big fat mumble, moving his hand away and allowing your head to rest against the hard wood counter. Yunho, Jeong Yunho. Many people adored the man, which you never understood why. He was a dick with a terrible attitude and didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, the nerve of him even coming near you made you wanna snap. Though, you had no energy to do that. You could still feel him next to you, his perfume was strong, and you’d only ever recognised that scent on him, no one else.

“Are you ever gonna stop being a little bitch Y/N? I just saved you from getting a concussion. You should be thanking me.” A scoff left his mouth. It was true though, Yunho didn’t care about anyone else but himself, he adored the attention from others, women. It was all he got, he was a rockstar afterall, who wouldn’t love the attention? Afterall, thousands of women screaming his name as his fingers played away at his guitar, what a life to live. However, as much as he adored all those women, one woman in particular was all he truly desired, to hear her scream his name, only for him to hear, for her to be a mess on his cock, a mixture of his and her cum dripping from her bare cunt. That woman was Y/N, and she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“I didn’t ask you to, now go away. I don’t need you ro add to my problems right now.” You managed to lift your head and turn to face the dark haired man sitting beside you. It bothered you that he was attractive and that perhaps in another life you’d given him a chance, and maybe if he didn’t have a stick up his own ass and acted like the world revolved around him.

“Problems? Like what? Your only problem is you being an annoying little dog.” Okay, to an extent Yunho could see why you didn’t like him at all, considering all he did was rip into you and just make matters worse rather than at least try and be there for you. All your hatred and dislike for Yunho began just as he started to gain attention, because from the slightest attention his ego grew massive and it bothered you. The two of you had a little history, meeting one another through acquaintances and he was actually really cute, and you were attracted to him in more than one way. That was no longer the case. Now five years have passed and his attitude and ego was unbearable.

“Do you ever fucking shut up? Fuck off, Yunho. Seriously.”

“No.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to.”

All you could do was give him the biggest eye roll, you barely had any energy left to argue with this idiot in front of you, whining at how frustrated you were with him. “My boyfriend— ex, boyfriend. Cheated on me, so I beg you to leave me alone and let me drink in peace.” You had no intention on telling him that, but you prayed that he’d leave you alone and go home or fuck a girl or do whatever it is that he did. Instead he remained right there, pulling something out of his pocket. A ticket, a ticket to his upcoming show. He was absolutely unbelievable.

“You’re kidding me, right? Do you just carry those with you everywhere? I'm not going, I don’t like your music.” Which was a lie. You listened to his songs whilst getting ready, in the car, when laying in bed.

“Just come will you? And fuck your ex, hes a fucking idiot to let someone like you go, the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Yunho meant his words, and he definitely wanted you to attend his show, simply because you’ve never been to one before, and he desperately wanted to show himself off to you in another light. He had to hide the little smile which appeared on his face when you mentioned your ex cheated, he was out of the picture now which meant Yunho had a chance to win you over, and he was determined to.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t flutter a little when Yunho complimented you. It didn’t mean anything to you, well, you thought it didn’t. You chewed your bottom lip as you snatched the ticket and shoved it in your purse, perhaps it would be good to go, what else were you doing? Moping around that you got cheated on? Ridiculous.

“Whatever.. I’m going now.” Oh but getting up by yourself was a terrible idea, you slid off the barstool and stumbled as soon as you hit the ground, squinting as if it were to make a difference to your vision, but it didn’t. Suddenly you feel some long arms wrap around you tightly to hold you in place, you knew exactly who it belonged to as two large hands gripped the side of your arms. You were in no position to argue or say no, since you were pretty sure you’d black out soon enough, which you did.

The next thing you knew, it was the next morning, your head was ringing and you were in bed, at home.

Huh.

A week had passed since your drunken incident, you barely remembered it and still couldn’t put your finger on how you ended up at home in bed, surrounded by your pastel walls. Well, no point dwelling on it now. You were currently sitting upon your white little wooden vanity, gripping onto a curling iron and letting your hair fall as you let go. It was the day of Yunho’s show and you decided to go, why? Who knows. You didn’t even remember how you got around to getting the ticket, and why it happened to be in your purse. it was such a blur to you. A white lace dress with little pink bows at the shoulders was upon your body, the same dress you wore the night you two met for the first time. It wasn’t intentional, not by any means and that memory had slipped your mind. You thought it looked rejected sitting in the back of your closet, so why not wear it? You’d never wear anything to purposefully grab his attention anyway.

“Shit.” It was 5:30, which meant you were running a little later than originally planned— why does it matter though? He probably won’t even notice that you're there.

Dashing around your apartment you grabbed your ink coloured clutch bag which contained the ticket and a few other essentials of yours before grabbing your keys and checking yourself in the mirror by your door before going out to your car. Your phone automatically connected to the bluetooth system in your car and at that moment your phone began to ring, it was Wooyoung. The two of you had been friends since you were in diapers, literally. It was because of Wooyoung, that you met Yunho, unfortunately. What an idiot.Foot on the gas pedal and you were off, pressing the answer button upon the steering wheel.

“Hey Woo, I'm driving right now. What's up?”

“Where are you going? I wanna go out for food, meet me?”

“Ah.. about that, I’m actually going to Yunho’s show..” You’d wondered if he even heard you, because it went silent and you spoke quietly when saying that sentence. But he did hear you, loud and clear.

“YUNHO? I thought you hated him! Why are you going?! Tell me!” The male's voice was extremely loud, almost bursting your eardrums. You hated cutting him off— not true. But right now you didn’t have time to explain, you were practically speeding your way to the venue.

“I’ll tell you later, okay? I promise you. I gotta go.” Just like that, the line disconnected with the click of a button.

Arriving at the venue, you were faced with the largest queue you'd seen by far, sprawling out into the parking lot. The sight was a complete eyesore, however you were certain Yunho absolutely loved the sight.

Lucky for you, Yunho was kind enough to give you priority access tickets, so you could skip the queue. A good thing of course, being around all those fan girl’s would possibly lead you to have an aneurysm. And thankfully, they were seated tickets as you hated standing up and being surrounded by sweaty people, especially sweaty teenage girls and possibly grown women who’d just be screaming for Yunho. Your seat happened to be a balcony seat, and you were the only one there.

Yunho knew what he was doing, he would be able to see you perfectly from there, that's if you actually decided to come. He was nervous, so nervous in fact to go on stage and then be faced with the disappointment of you not being there. The man was infatuated by you and sometimes he really hated it, why you? Why did it have to be you? Either way, time was ticking and it was time to head to the stage. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Ever since he took you home last week, you were the only thing in his mind, day and night you flooded his brain, thoughts of you being fucked, the thoughts of you simply belonging to him. It was driving him insane.

The lights dimmed within the venue, and colors of red and white flashed on the stage, indicating that he was about to come out. For some reason that caused you to feel sick, a pit in your stomach. Why am I even here? I don’t even like him. Yet here you were, in a seat assigned especially for you. Not that you knew that, you had no idea how this ticket got into your possession in the first place.

A loud bang made the floor shake beneath you, startling you for sure. White and red confetti filled the room as Yunho was now on stage, seems as though he was standing on a lifting stage. You began to chew on your bottom lip anxiously, the crowd went wild as began with his first song. Whatever, he’s still an asshole.

Yunho’s ego was always boosted immensely as soon as he appeared on stage, hundreds of people screaming his name, posters and banners just for him. Absolutely perfect. But what was even more incredible, was the girl who appeared to hate him so much, was standing in the balcony he left just for you. The smirk which was painted on his lips was very evident as he pretty much groped the mic whilst his gaze met yours, he didn’t maintain it for long, but long enough to irritate her for sure. Honestly he didn’t expect you to come, especially because you were pretty drunk the night he gave you that ticket. Nevertheless, he was absolutely smitten. He’d watch how you’d rip your eyes from him every time your eyes met, he was absolutely loving this.

The cold breeze brushed against your face as you exited the venue, you were surprised with how you were able to stay the entire time, though there were many instances you wanted to storm out everytime you noticed the smug look on his face. You seriously couldn’t stand the man, but why was your heart fluttering if you hated him? Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did.

You watched as fans walked out of the venue, some with tears running down their faces and sobbing about how much they loved Yunho, which could only get an eye roll and scoff out of you, how ridiculous. You took some time before deciding to walk back to your car, enjoying the breeze and feeling of the night. You happened to park quite far, and the area was deserted pretty much. You were about to enter your car, when you froze.

“Y/n.” A voice called out to you, the same voice you had been hearing for the last three hours. Jeong Yunho. Did he follow you?

“Hi jackass.” You turned around to face him, his body a lot closer to yours than you expected it to be. Crossing your arms across your chest, you tilted your head at him.

“Thanks for coming, didn’t expect you to.” The man was going to attempt to have a decent and human conversation with you, however In that moment, Yunho realized what you were wearing, the expression upon his face was different from his usual smug look. It was desire, absolute filthy desire. Yunho became enamored by you that day you two met, and here you were, wearing the cute little dress which made him obsessed with you forever. Did you know? You did this on purpose, surely.

“Are you trying to just make me fucking crazy? you know what you're doing don’t you?” His body was inching closer to yours, making you press your back against your car door.

“What on earth are you talking about?” You were clueless, but you could feel your cheeks heat up as he got closer, gripping onto the bottom of your dress tightly. If you hated him so much, why the fuck were your panties getting soaked?

“That dress.. fuck y/n are you really that fucking dumb?”

“What d— oh crap.” How didn’t you realize? You were dumb, so fucking dumb. “So what? It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart was fucking racing, it definitely did mean something. How did you forget? He didn’t. He never forgot anything.

“It does to me, ever since I saw you in this dress that showed just enough for me to imagine you under me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Did you know that? You didn’t, because you’re a dumb little bitch.” Yunho didn’t intend on insulting you, but he knew she wasn’t bothered by that, a smirk painted his lips as he noticed your change in demeanor, your cheeks flushed pink, legs squeezing together.

“Yunho fuck y—“ But before you could continue, his large hand came to cup your jaw from underneath, whimpering under his touch. Who knew this asshole could turn you into a dumb slut just like that? Leaning into your ear, his hot breath made your body shudder.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up.” A growl from him before his lips crashed against yours ever so harshly, his tongue swiping your bottom lip, muffling the moans which threatened to escape your lips. Usually your first instinct would be to push him away but this time you couldn’t. His hands moved to grip onto your hips tightly as he pressed himself against you. You could feel how hard he already was just against you, making you soak your panties within just a couple minutes. You were out in the open, no one was around but the rush of knowing anyone could see you any second only made you more heated, your arms finally deciding to move and wrap around Yunho’s neck.

Yunho pulled away, dragging your bottom lip with him, biting on it as one of his hands slipped, letting it slide to your white lace panties, your cheeks turning scarlet red as you realized how soaked they really were, whimpering as he pushed them to the side. Fuck, a little touch was enough to send you to the sky.

“You always act like you hate me yet look at you, wet as shit like a dumb slut. My little baby.” He hissed, his tone a little mocking as two of his slender fingers entered your wet, sloppy, cunt. causing you to throw your head back against your car. He hadn’t even started yet. His fingers sliding in easily due to your arousal, pumping them in and out of you, abusing your tiny little cunt just as he always wanted. Your core was practically burning from the sensation of his fingers, they were pistoning inside you.

“Y-Yun..” You moaned out stupidly, he was only fucking you with his fingers and you could barely talk coherently. How pathetic? Yunho loved it though, he was waiting for this day for so long, to have your head so cloudy to the point you could only mumble his name, to be a mess on his fingers. A dream. Oh how beautiful you looked, your eyes rolling back, pressed against your car under the moonlight. Yunho’s brow cocked, tilting his head slightly and sinking his lips onto your neck, sucking and nibbling against your delicate porcelain skin, painting your skin purple, his tongue swiping his artwork once he was finished.

Yunho decided to insert another finger, watching you squirm was a delight to his eyes. The tent in his pants threatened to push past the fabric, perhaps even some precum already at the tip. He was desperate to fuck you, but he wanted to do it properly, and prep you of course before he took you home and absolutely destroyed you. Besides, the thrill of someone spotting him finger you senseless in the parking lot was a rush, especially to his hardening cock.

The sloppy and wet sounds coming from his fingers in your cunt was beautiful, filling the air. However as soon as he felt you tighten around his fingers he pulled them out, stuffing his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, taking in your sweet taste. “You taste incredible whore. Though.. you think I'm gonna let you cum? The only time you get to do that is on my cock.” Once again, his mocking tone irritated you and you were beyond pissed that you were denied your orgasm. The man was edging you and you hated it, squeezing your thighs together.

“Fuck you Yunho.” You spat, huffing and crossing your arms across your chest. Yunho simply laughed in amusement at your reaction. “So are you gonna fuck me or what?” The sheer annoyance in your voice only made his cock twitch, he absolutely was infatuated by you, he loved your bitchyness.

“Im not done with you just yet, get in the backseat.” Happily you obliged, thinking he was going to slide his cock into you, you hobbled around into the back and laid down, he came in after you, closing the door and pressing himself down. Yunho teasingly grinded his hips against you so you could feel him, and fuck was he hard, you whined under him, groaning when he moved to slide your dress up and slide down your panties completely, shoving them in his pocket. Gotta keep a souvenir right? “Let me get another taste of you.”

You couldn't help but grumble, he was having so much fun and all you wanted was to be fucked into next week. But of course with Yunho that wasn't possible whatsoever. The man shuffled back and sunk his head down to meet your cunt, the sweet smell of your arousal allowed a soft moan to escape his lips before his tongue swept along your soaked folds, his hands gripping onto her skin, as his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked away, looking up to see her face scrunched up, her back ever so slightly arched. Yunho couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging on it as he sucked your clit softly, the moans parting from your mouth getting increasingly louder as he continued to swipe his tongue. You were well aware he’d deny another orgasam of yours, it wasn’t fair. The sensation was so different to what you'd experienced before from other partners. Yunho was definitely skilled. It only made you more eager to see how well he’d fuck you. The situation was quite bizarre. A week ago, you wouldnt of thought that you’d be lying in the backseat of your car having Yunho eat out your pussy.

Just like you predicted though, Yunho stopped as soon as you were close once again, being denied your second orgasm. “I fucking hate you.” You groaned, kicking his chest with your foot slightly as he scoffed.

“If you hated me so much, I wouldn’t be tasting you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You will sweetheart, just patience. Now, lets go home okay? I'm sure youre dying to cum.”

Yunho laughed as he left the back of the car and entered the front, he was in the drivers seat.

“Well? Come on. You can give me head as we drive.”

All you could do was roll your eyes as you shifted to the front seat, climbing your way forward and glared at him. “Im not doing it.”

“That's alright, my cock will be filling you up soon anyway.”

To be continued.

674 notes · View notes

aneveningsword · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞

pairing: Jordan Li x gn!reader (band AU) warnings: not proofread words: 687 summary: booking a practise room won't keep Jordan away until they get what they want

masterlist

"You're doing it wrong," Jordan's voice cuts through the riff you are playing. A deep frown was etched on your face as you looked from the guitar to the doorway. A smug-looking Jordan greeted you only deepening your frown if that was possible. You had booked the practice room for some privacy but it seems that doesn't stop someone who believes they are entitled to the world.

"Like you can do better." Your bitter reply came, eyes going back to the sheet of music you were reading. "Actually, I can," Jordan's reply pulled a scoff from you not even bothering to look up as you grabbed your pencil to circle some notes. From your peripheral vision, you see Jordan standing off to the side, looking over your shoulder to read the music.

"I booked this room y'know," From the corner of your eye you see Jordan's shit-eating grin as they take a step back. "Good on you." It was clear they cared little about you wanting from peace to practice. Since you met them it seemed their mission was to annoy you at any chance they got, commenting on your technique, your chords, and your stage presence.

"Shouldn't you also be practising? I heard you the other day and I thought it was a primary schooler." Your snarky reply wiped the grin from Jordan's face and instead put one on yours. The pair of you had a strange relationship, always going back and forth with quips and mild insults. You would not say you hated each other, but you wouldn't say you liked each other either.

"Why do you think I'm here. It's sure not because of you," A small scoff is pulled from you as your attention is placed back on your instrument. Strumming it mindlessly, you practise the fingering of the bar. For a moment you could forget Jordan was in the room, but they were quick to remind you of their presence with the sound of a guitar.

With a huff you whip your head to the side, their eyes already on you with their annoying grin. It was clear they had done it to annoy you, it was only a moment before they began playing a few bars. It took you a moment to realise it was what you had been playing when they barged in.

As the last cord was strummed you rolled your eyes and let out a small chuckle. "Was that an attempt to impress me?" Your laughter brings a frown to them before you hear them scoff. "I was showing you how it's meant to be played because you clearly need the help."

"Help? I don't need help and definitely not from you." You snap, placing your guitar down and rising from your seat. For a moment Jordan thinks you are going to leave, but you make your way over to them. "Is there a purpose for you being here? Or is it just to piss me off?"

Jordan hums with a grin "I'm here to practice, is that a crime?" You stop your movement only centimetres from them, the guitar the only barrier between the pair of you. "Yes, it is. I booked this room to get away from dickheads like you. Yet, you follow me in here like a lost puppy." Your voice drops in volume as you speak harshly to them.

It doesn't seem to faze Jordan in the slightest, your harsh words being brushed off as nothing. "Don't flatter yourself. You were the one obsessed with me the other night." You had not expected them to say that the annoyance in expression morphing into one of slight shock.

"Shut up." "Make me."

Within an instant, your lips were on their pulling them into a heated kiss. Their reason for ruining your peace became clear to you, they simply wanted attention. Breaking the kiss you take a moment to catch your breath before speaking.

"Is that all you wanted, a kiss? Can I get back to practising without your being a little shit?" "As long as I get to watch, you can do whatever you want."

#jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #gen v #gen v imagines #jordan li #jordan li headcanons #jordan li imagines #gen v jordan li

148 notes · View notes

i-trash-about-things · 2 months

Text

Eddie's shitty sense of humor strikes again.

A random blurb that came to me after reading some headcannons about Eddie's childish sense of humor

777 words (nice). Suggestive but nothing happens. Reader has hair long enough to tug. GN!Reader and Ed are best friends. Swear word count: 4. English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn't make sense and feel free to correct me! (Repost because Tumblr flunked the last time I tried posting this)

If you wanna be Eddie Munson’s friend, you’ve gotta learn a few rules. Handle his guitar with care, or else he’ll bash it in the side of your head. If W.A.S.P. is on, you do not skip a single song.

You know all of these, better than anyone with you being his best friend. His partner in crime, the one that always gets him out of trouble– or gets into trouble with him.

But there’s one rule you know better than all of the rest.

Eddie is nothing if not a damn clown.

Loud, potentially annoying, and will crack a joke like he can’t hold it back. Be it an awkward one liner at a funeral, a sarcastic remark in the middle of class or a genuine good joke in the middle of a campaign– His mouth is moving faster than his brain, and all that leaves his lips is absolute tomfoolery.

You know it, your friends know it, all of Hawkins knows it.

And an example of this behavior is that fact he can’t see any one of his friends bending down to fetch whatever fell without pretending to hump against their ass, groaning and moaning so exaggerated you never know if you wanna laugh or cringe.

Shameless.

It is kinda funny when Gareth gets all pissy afterwards, tho.

But, even though you and Eds have been friends for the good part of 4 years now– he never did this to you. Not because he didn’t want to or because it’d be weird, but because he just never had the chance.

You, differently from most people, doesn’t tend to bend down to reach something. You just crouch. Or kneel, when the moment calls for it.

It’s just something you’ve been doing since forever, so you’re more used to it. Mindless, instinct, really.

But the past few weeks, you think Eddie’s been trying to get you to bend down– like he wants to get a completion prize for humping everyone in the Hellfire Club (with the exception of the sheepies, duh). He drops his pick mid practice, asks for you to grab a figurine stacked on the box near the foot of his bed– anything, just to get you to bend over.

So far? No such luck.

But Eddie isn’t anything if not committed to the bit. So, one day, the opportunity shows itself for him and he takes it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, really. He was just getting ready to go out, both of you gathering your coats by the front door of his trailer so you wouldn’t freeze your butts off–

“Oh, hey– wait.” Your hand leaves the sleeve of your hoodie, instead reaching for him to stop moving. Your face is down, eyes on the floor, and he raises an eyebrow. “I think there’s something stuck to your shoe. Hol’ up.”

And before he has the chance to freak out in worry if it’s a spider– you’re kneeling between his feet, tugging on whatever it is stuck to his sneakers.

And, like a match dropped into gasoline, he sees his chance and goes for it.

You don’t have the chance to raise your face before you feel familiar fingers tangling into the front of your hairline, tugging your head up roughly– and Eddie let’s out an exaggerated, throaty groan, half-heartedly moving his hips that are eye level to you.

“Mmph! Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart, just like that!” He cackles, biting his lip and tilting his head back for that extra effect… But pauses when he doesn’t hear you laughing or groaning in annoyance at his shenanigans.

So he looks back down… And something about the smirk on your face makes his heart skip a beat.

Despite the crude and sexual joke, you don’t look embarrassed in the slightest– much less uncomfortable, which was Eddie’s original fear. No… No, you look amused.

Smug.

There’s something about the way your eyes are halflided, full of mirth as you look up at him from your spot by the floor. The shit eating tilt to your smirk has a shiver running down his spine, and his grip on your hair instinctively loosens. Amused, confident even– even while literally kneeling by his feet.

Jesus H. Christ.

“You’re a dumb ass, Munson, you know that?” You say, the slight tilt to your words hinting at an affectionate tone that has him swallowing the dryness on the back of his throat. He almost doesn’t hear you over the sound of the blood rushing from his head down south.

“I live to entertain.” He hears himself say, and for once he thanks the fact his mouth moves faster than his brain.

#hopefully tumblr won't fuck this post up this fime around #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #YOU #YES YOU #suggestive #trash's writing tag o/

98 notes · View notes

riconas · 11 months

Note

aeon request, for your consideration: aeon tries to be a bratty sub, so dew takes it upon himself to break him down. aeon is so confident and showy on stage immediately, but deep down inside, he really just wants someone to take care of him and show him the care that he never received in the pit.

I got carried away. here is 1.6k of general Dew meanness for your viewing pleasure.

“Aeon,” Dew warns.

“Aeon,” Aeon mimics. “What?”

“Hands off.”

Very, very slowly, Aeon extends his index finger, touches the tip of it to the tip of Dew’s whammy bar, and presses down.

The chord wobbles. Dew smacks his hand away. “I said. Hands off.”

Aeon snickers. “Touchy.”

“Aeon.”

“What?”

“You’re asking for it.”

Aeon shrugs. Maybe he is asking for it. Would that be such a crime? As if Dew doesn’t go slinking up to Aether all the time, asking for it. Proudly wearing his dick on his sleeve.

“Satanas, just say you want to be fucked,” Dew mutters under his breath. It isn’t directed at Aeon, and it certainly doesn’t sound like he’s genuinely annoyed, but Aeon’s heart skips a beat. He watches intently as Dew turns the amp off and places his guitar back on its stand. It’s all he can do to not bounce on the spot.

Dew grabs his arm and wordlessly shoves him out of the practice room, heedless of the way Aeon nearly trips over his own tail. He’s silent on the walk back to the ghoul wing, but Aeon senses the mild annoyance radiating off him, tinged with exasperation. He probes carefully into Dew’s mind, and there it is, just as he expected.

Arousal.

“On your knees,” Dew orders, the second his bedroom door is locked behind them.

Now that’s something Aeon can do. He drops to the ground, hands on Dew’s belt, purring as Dew cards tough fingers through his hair. There’s no hurry, but he rushes to undo the buckle and pull Dew’s pants down, as a sort-of apology for interrupting his practice session.

Dew’s hard, unsurprisingly. Aeon gives him a quick lick from base to tip, swirling his tongue around the head, and earns a soft groan for his trouble. Inspired, he does it a few more times, gazing up at Dew through his lashes.

“Don’t tease,” Dew says, dangerously quiet. “Open your mouth. Suck on it.”

Aeon cocks his head. “Make me.”

Rookie mistake. Next thing he knows, Dew’s got a hold on the back of his head, and he’s gagging as Dew’s cock hits the back of his throat. Sometimes—and this is becoming very apparent now—Aeon does stupid things. He pushes at Dew’s thighs by pure instinct, and when Dew doesn’t budge, he tries frantically tapping instead.

Dew, mercifully, lets him up, but not without yanking his head back and spitting in his mouth. Some of it hits his cheek, and Aeon wrinkles his nose.

“You wanna try that again?”

Aeon does not, in fact, want to try that again. Obediently, he closes his lips around Dew’s cock and sinks down to the base, giving him one good, strong swallow before he starts bobbing his head. All the better for Dew to not see his teary eyes.

“No,” Dew says suddenly, pulling him off without warning. “You don’t deserve to suck me off. Not with that attitude.” He yanks Aeon to his feet and all but throws him onto the bed. “Strip.”

Easy. Aeon can do that. He’s good at following orders when he wants to (and even better at disobeying them, as Aether once told him) but Dew doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in the strip show he’s putting on, so he shucks his clothes as quickly as he can and crawls back against the headboard, an open invitation to be cornered.

“Such a slut,” Dew says, devastatingly casual. “Look at you. Spreading your legs like a whore.”

Aeon doesn’t respond. It stings, kind of, but it’s hot. He spreads his legs wider, just to prove a point, and tries to gauge how pissed Dew really is as he stalks towards him. He feels like prey, counting down the seconds before he’s eaten alive. Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

Dew licks his fingers and jacks himself a couple of times, gathering spit and pre before smearing them over Aeon’s hole. That’s it. That’s all the prep he gets. Aeon feels dizzy, out of his mind as Dew lines himself up and starts to press in.

Thank Satan Dew isn’t Mountain. Thank Satan Dew isn’t hung like a horse, because between the stretch and the friction, Aeon has enough evidence to decide he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Dew doesn’t even stop to let him adjust, just works himself in with tiny thrusts that go further each time, until their bodies are pressed so close Aeon starts to sweat with the heat radiating off Dew’s skin.

Then Dew gets a very eager hand on Aeon’s very eager dick, and Aeon thinks he might actually die.

“Oh, fuck,” Aeon cries, hating the way he's so sensitive to the slightest touch, though he could be excused for how Dew's kneading his dick like a cat. “Dew, Dew, oh—”

“Shh,” Dew interrupts. “Not a word.”

Aeon screws his eyes shut. Between Dew's cock stuffed inside him and Dew’s clever fingers working him with brutal, efficient strokes, he doesn't know where his attention is supposed to go. That and the mounting pressure in his gut have him overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, overriding all five of his senses, filling him up to the brim.

“Hey,” Dew says sharply. “Focus.” He slaps Aeon’s cheek, hard enough to sting, and Aeon can’t stop the whimper he lets out in response. Tragic, honestly. Pathetic sort of demon he is, whining over a little slap. He's never been a huge fan of rough treatment, never really sought it out on purpose, but it’s Dew.

Aeon would do anything for Dew.

He pushes Dew’s hand away, grabs Dew’s hips to try and slow down the brutal pace he’s setting. Focus, he tells himself, focus, Aeon, which doesn’t help in the slightest. He knew what he was getting himself into—to an extent—yet nothing's really prepared him for how harshly Dew's ramming his cock in.

“Dew,” Aeon tries to say, and immediately regrets opening his mouth when it comes out pitifully shaky. “Dew, I can’t—please. Please.”

Dew smiles, and Aeon’s heart sinks. “What?”

Aeon shakes his head. He can’t say it now. Not with Dew staring at him like that.

“Use your words,” Dew says, a little mean, a little playful. “I’m not Aether. I can’t read your mind.”

“I—” Aeon starts, and immediately forgets what he was about to say. “Can you—oh, slower, slower, please—”

Dew scoffs. “Slower? Someone wants to be treated nicely?” His voice drips with sarcasm, saccharine. Like it’s a laughable prospect, a ridiculous idea. “Someone wants to be treated like a princess? Wants to make love?” He splays his fingers across Aeon’s cheek, pushing his face aside and into the mattress. The motion is so careless, so thoughtless. Aeon’s chest gives a sad little twist.

“Please don’t mock me,” Aeon begs. “Please. Please don’t.”

“I’ll treat you nicely,” Dew says, sounding decidedly not very nice at all. “You want that? The brat wants to be treated nicely?”

Aeon’s expression turns pained. “Dew, please.”

Something shifts. Dew’s rhythm falters. “Please what?” he snaps, but the malice is gone, and it comes out almost helpless, half-hearted.

Please what? Aeon doesn’t actually know. Does he want Dew to treat him nicely? He can’t say that out loud; Dew would tease him for weeks. The whole pack would tease him, he knows it—he isn’t as tough as they are, can’t handle what they can. What a shame that he wants to be treated gently, wants to be cared for.

Wants to be loved.

“Please,” he says again, hoping and hoping that Dew understands.

“You want that?” Dew asks, sounding awfully fond.

Aeon gropes for Dew’s hand, desperate for something to hold. He swears he’s floating away, his brain thoroughly mushed, his nerve endings thoroughly fried. Dew pins his wrist to the mattress, but laces their fingers together anyway, kind enough to indulge him.

“You’re hopeless,” Dew says affectionately. “Just wanted my attention, didn’t you? Acting like a brat to get me all riled up?”

Yeah, Aeon almost replies, but before he can react, Dew’s pulling out and flipping him over unceremoniously, giving his ass a slap as he manhandles him onto his hands and knees. His elbows wobble, weak as a newborn calf. He’s almost thankful when Dew presses between his shoulder blades until he collapses to his chest. It punches a grunt out of him, and he’s embarrassed until Dew folds an arm around his waist, the other across his shoulders.

“It’s alright,” Dew tells him, breath hot in his ear. “I’ll be nice to you. Just take it.”

And take it, Aeon does. Not that he has a choice, but it feels better thinking he does, especially when Dew slides into him with no effort and hoists him up, stronger than he looks, until his sweaty back is pressed to Dew’s scorching chest.

Aeon hopes it burns him. Aeon hopes Dew brands him like this, leaves his mark forever.

He truly has gone insane.

Then Dew’s spindly fingers close around his throat, and Aeon wonders he may have gone about this the wrong way.

“No,” Aeon gasps. “Don’t choke me. Please. Just—hold, like this—” He puts his hand over Dew’s and slots his fingers in the spaces between. The pressure eases. “Yeah. M’sorry I—don’t want it like that, sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Dew murmurs.

“I just—”

“I know.” Dew presses his index finger over Aeon’s lips, shutting him up. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

Aeon nods deliriously, and lets his head fall back against Dew’s shoulder. It feels like lying on a table leg, and isn’t comfortable in the slightest, but Aeon’s too out of it to care. He likes this version of Dewdrop, he decides. Prefers it to the default setting.

Perhaps Dew was right. It would have been easier to ask.

“You wanna cum like this?” Dew asks, disastrously sweet.

Fuck he does. He’ll die if he doesn’t, he swears—

“Please,” Aeon gasps for the millionth time. “Please let me.”

Dew kisses his neck, his jaw, the shell of his ear. So gentle. So hot, like dragging burning coals across his skin, and Aeon knows for sure, right then and there, that he would set himself on fire to keep Dew warm.

“Will you let me?” he slurs. “Please?”

Dew laughs, a quiet huff of a thing. “Alright.”

#I like to think neither of them are as in control as they think they are #I also like to think neither of them are aware of how much they love each other #Rain in the next room over: 🤨#rico writes #ficlet #the band ghost fanfiction #aeon ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x aeon

213 notes · View notes

hawkins-losers · 5 months

Text

EDDIE MUNSON MASTERPOST

* = smut/18+ content

10 Things I hate about you

Eddie fucked up, so you write him a poem telling him that you hate him - except that you don’t hate him…not in the slightest

A new look

Eddie cut his hair. You don’t know how to feel

As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you | Henderson!Reader

Things are not going well for Eddie. After a static-y call on Dustin’s walkie, you find him at Skull Rock

Between two shelves

You and Eddie have a little make out session between two classes

Blind date with the freak

You get set up on a blind date with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson as a joke from your friends. The joke’s on them because you end up having a really great time

Caught dancing with the devil * | Hopper!Reader

You get the tremendous idea of sneaking Eddie in your room while your dad is home. Things escalate under the belt - naturally - and Hopper gets suspicious

Darling, don’t you ever grow up | Dad!Eddie

Eddie becomes a dad. Spoilers: he’s the best dad

Drunken serenades

Drunk Eddie decides to serenade you with a song - his plan doesn’t go as planned

Dungeon Master I’m pulling your strings * | Henderson!Reader

You show interest in D&D and Hawkins’ Dungeon Master offers to teach you in the privacy of his trailer. At some point during the lessons, D&D is forgotten

Handcuffs *

They weren’t all wrong about the whole freak thing. Eddie Munson was a freak, just not the kind they thought

I've still got you all over me | Rockstar!Eddie x Henderson!Reader

When Eddie and the band rose to fame, your relationship was brought to an end. Four years later, Dustin plots behind your back and invite his former Dungeon Master to his birthday party without telling you

The girl from the magazine

You find one of Eddie’s erotica magazines and start comparing yourself to the woman in the comics

Grease stains and coveralls | Mechanic!Eddie

During a hot day, you pay Eddie a visit at the auto shop and the sight of him in his coveralls is hotter than the July weather

Lonely, aching hearts | Hargrove!Reader

The aftermath of losing a twin brother, a temporary nightmare fix and a neighbor with a heart of gold

part 1 part 2

Morning kisses

Eddie doesn’t get what he wants this morning

My equal

The Dungeon Master wants you to sit on the throne with him

My hero

Following his attack by the demo-bats, Eddie is left with a new insecurity

The one that got away

You find the perfect guy, but you miss the imperfect relationship you and Eddie had

Private guitar lesson *

You can’t pick up how to play guitar, so Eddie tries a new way to teach you

Talk nerdy to me

It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare..and some fun

Tiger stripes

After your first time with Eddie, you open up about your body image insecurities

Thunderstorms *

You and Eddie are long date friends. One rainy evening in his trailer causes you to ruin the friendship

Wake me up when the battle ends

You and the Hawkins gang prepare for the grand battle to defeat Vecna, which includes getting separated from Eddie. Or, you and Eddie say your last goodbyes

Wake up

You and Dustin gets Eddie out of the Upside Down. He is now in a coma

What died didn’t stay dead | Henderson!Reader

When someone dies in the Upside Down, they don’t always stay dead

Would I make a great cheerleader

You and Eddie meet in the school’s woods

You’re my best view

part 1

You play Eddie’s guitar - he’s in love

part 2

You fulfill your promise and take polaroids for your boyfriend

BLURBS

I’m naked

Late call on the walkie

Eddie discovers he’s in love

Stargazing in the back of Eddie’s van

Pregnancy scare | Hopper!Reader

Getting caught by the rain

Head scratches

Uncle Wayne

Running to Skull Rock

Bathroom sex during a concert

Eddie makes the long drive to California | Byers!Reader

Sick!Eddie

Snowfight (strange-mas)

Before heading to battle | Henderson!Reader

Riding Eddie on his throne

Eddie gets horny on stage because of you’re wearing stockings - then ruins said stocking | Warning: smut, thigh fucking, semi-public sex

You ride Eddie in his throne after Hellfire | Warning: Smut, p + v action, riding, semi-public sex(?), almost caught

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine

85 notes · View notes

muertawrites · 2 years

Text

Maybe (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Eddie is self-conscious about his scars from the Upside Down. Thankfully, he has you to remind him how beautiful he is.

Word Count: idk but definitely under 1k

Author's Note: dj pendeja is back, y'all. characters are aged up; eddie and reader met during the events of s4 and remained friends since (tiny bit of friends to lovers). posting unedited.

You've never seen Eddie shirtless. It's kind of a weird thought, considering you've been friends for close to a decade. You realize it while you're out one night, walking home from your favorite bar, and he jumps up to swing from the ladder of a fire escape; his shirt lifts just the slightest bit, revealing a shock of ghostly white skin beneath. Your memory becomes fixated on the flash of an image, and it's hard to get it out of your head.

You know he has scars - you'd been the one to help Dustin drag him out of the Upside Down. You saw for yourself the heinous gashes ripped through his shirt and into his flesh, his blood staining the fabric crimson. You'd sat with him countless hours in the hospital, watching the gory streak of lightning across his cheek heal and fade into nothing but an outline, a memory of the life he almost lost. He hates that scar; you can tell in the way he wears his hair a bit shaggier on that side, attempting to cover it up.

It's very likely he hates the rest of his scars as much as that one, and that's the reason you've never seen them.

Even when Eddie asks you out on a date, and that date becomes several dates, and those several dates become calling him your boyfriend, you still don't see him without a shirt. A week ago, when you had sex for the first time, he'd insisted on doing so in the dark. You remember the feeling of the raised skin along the sides of his torso, the way coaxed your hands to a different spot when your fingers inched too close to the remnants of his injuries. It breaks your heart, but you can't admit that - you don't want him to feel any guilt for his fear, which you know he will if you do.

Maybe you love him.

That's a very scary thing to think about.

He stayed over at your apartment last night, and you wake to an empty bed. The summer air is already sweltering, the dusty old floor fan in the corner of your tiny bedroom doing little to dispel the heat. You peel yourself off your mattress with a groan, making your way into the kitchen, where you can hear Eddie making enough noise to wake the whole complex.

You stop, suddenly wide awake, when you're met with the naked expanse of his back. Cracked scar tissue makes its way up his sides, with matching blotches torn into his shoulder blades.

He turns, catching you there, and you stand in stunned silence, staring at each other.

The scars on the front of his torso aren't much different, but are many, covering most of his skin. One cuts across his right pec, a slash through the tattoo that was once there, making it entirely unrecognizable.

You raise your eyes to his face, meeting his wide brown irises in all their terror. His unruly hair is knotted at the nape of his neck; between his collarbones, his guitar pick rises and falls unevenly with his haggard, nervous breathing.

"... What was the tattoo?" you finally ask.

Eddie blinks, his head shaking a little in surprise.

"... What?" he breathes.

"Your tattoo. What was it of? You know, before... before the Upside Down."

He clears his throat. After a long, deep breath, he makes his way closer to you, fighting the urge to cross his arms over his chest.

"It was a demon's head," he tells you. "It uh..."

He pauses to chuckle.

"It looked a lot like Vecna, actually."

You smile - a soft, tentative smile - and reach to run your fingers over the space where it used to be.

"Probably best it's gone, then," you say. "You should get something new."

Eddie laughs at that, his trembling hands falling to your hips.

"I've never even let you see my scars," he reminds you. "You think I'm gonna subject a stranger to this freak show?"

Your brows furrow, your whole expression dropping at his choice of words. He refuses to meet your eye, and you're left to sway him the one way you know for certain will get through to him.

You drop to your knees.

"Eddie, baby..."

You start to caress his marred sides, your lips trailing tenderly over each mound of scarred flesh you find.

"You got these scars protecting the people you loved. People you barely knew, but still held sacred. I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't got these scars. Vecna wouldn't be dead without these scars. They're the last thing you should ever be ashamed of."

When you stand back up, he meets your lips with a kiss, pulling you in close and holding you tightly against him. You smile at him as you separate, fingers twined within the bundle of hair behind his head.

"You don't think they're ugly?" Eddie asks. His voice is uncharacteristically meek. You shake your head.

"I think they're the most beautiful things I've ever seen," you reply. And it's the truth - you've never been able to lie to him.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He kisses your nose. You know he can't take a compliment, but the flush in his cheeks and the flutter in his heartbeat tell you all you need to know. You giggle.

"That was cheesy even for you," you snark, a loving gleam in your eye.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he wraps you in his arms - close, tight, and with purpose, hugging you as if remembering how close he was to losing you. Maybe he is.

Either way, you hold him just as firmly, pressing kisses into the scarred skin of his shoulder.

You could stay like this forever.

And maybe you will.

masterlist

#eddie munson #muerta's works #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fix it fic

730 notes · View notes

senseless-writing · 2 years

Text

A Not-So-Happy Accident

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Summary: Austin gets hurt doing something stupid on set, and Y/n is not happy about it.

Warnings: Talk of blood, cuts, and stitches. Nothing too graphic

A/N: This is based on an interview where Baz, Olivia, and Austin (and possibly Tom Hanks) talk about a time on set where Austin cut his face on a guitar. Of course, I can’t find the interview now, but I swear to god it was real. If anyone finds it, please tag me so I know I’m not going crazy!

If you would like to be added to any of my tag lists (I’ve got a general tag list, along with specifics ones for each fandom I’ve written for thus far), plz leave a comment or ask and let me know which one!

Masterlist

----------

The first words out of Austin’s mouth after realizing he’d cut his face open on set was “Nobody tell Y/n!”

Which, of course, made everyone laugh. Up until that point, the room was practically frozen with anxiety, each and every person shushing to a respectful yet uncomfortable silence at the prospect of their star being down for the count. Their minds were put at ease to hear him cracking jokes.

But Austin wasn’t joking. Not in the slightest.

Y/n always worried that Austin gave too much of himself to his craft. The mental changes were hard enough, but physical changes scared her. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t an actor, and would therefore never truly understand the lengths to which were necessary in this sort of portrayal. But she sometimes felt like a mother scolding her child for falling down after being told not to run.

And Austin didn’t just want to run. He wanted to fly. Which only made things worse.

But he promised his girlfriend to always be careful on set. Not just with his body, but also his mind, soul, and heart.

“We’re not even doing any stunts, baby. It’s the safest set I’ve ever been on.”

In hindsight, the words felt pretty stupid now.

The sting of ice pressed against his right temple was nothing in comparison to the sudden fear he felt over how he was going to tell Y/n. The paramedic holding the bag to Austin’s face had the same look of fear in his eyes, as if he was slightly shocked to be doing what he was doing. In most cases, these sort of professionals were just a precaution. Nobody actually expected to use them.

The man directed his gaze towards Baz, who stood behind Austin’s chair with a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s a clean cut, that’s for sure. Definitely going to need a stitch or two.”

Austin scoffed in disbelief. “I didn’t even feel it.”

“We know,” Baz said with half a laugh. “You went through the entire rest of the concert without noticing blood running down your face.”

Austin could feel it now, though. He was just glad nothing got on the costume. “How long will it take to get the stitches out?”

“No more than five days. Eyebrow scars, in particular, heal quite nicely. You won’t even see it after a little bit.”

At least filming won’t be thrown off too much, Austin thought bitterly. No one was very keen on delaying the movie any farther, not after covid stopped everything for so long. Again, the actor was filled with a sense of dread.

The feeling almost immediately doubled, however, when Austin noticed Baz’s personal assistant was missing from the director's side.

“Baz?” he turned his head to look at the man still standing slightly over his shoulder. He spoke slowly, as if already knowing the answer but not yet ready to hear it. “Where’s Rachel?”

At least Baz had the sense to look guilty. Immediately, Austin’s mind wandered to where Y/n sat, happily awaiting his return to his trailer across the lot.

“You didn’t-”

“Austin Robert Butler!”

“Oh, dear god,” he mumbled to himself, though he knew there was no point in begging. No deity could help him now. That’s what he got for finding himself one firecracker of a woman.

She stomped over with the force of a thousand horses, and everyone parted like the red sea to let her through. It was suddenly abundantly clear to everyone on set why he hadn’t wanted to tell her about his accident. They all averted their eyes from the absolute scolding that Austin was about to receive.

“Hi, honey,” he mumbled just as she reached his chair. The medic switched from holding ice to gauze on Austin’s angry cut, and he, too, pretended not to hear the conversation taking place.

“Don’t you ‘hi, honey’ me! Not after you just cracked your goddamn head open!”

“It’s a scratch-”

She pointed a finger towards him at once, swiftly silencing any poor rebuttal he thought he had. “Don’t interrupt me!” Y/n warned, and Austin’s lips clamped shut. “My honest assumption is that you cracked your head open, and you must have some serious brain damage. ‘Cuz why else would you be acting this stupid? ‘Nobody tell Y/n!’ Seriously, Austin!”

Austin spun around, despite the medic’s protest, to stare at Rachel accusingly. “You told her that?”

Y/n smacked him on the shoulder, and Austin’s eyes snapped back to hers with a shout of protest. “Don’t you yell at her! At least someone around here tells me something.”

“I didn’t want you to worry, baby,” he reached out to rest one hand on her waist, which she allowed. It was a start, at least, in Austin’s eyes.

Y/n was clearly still upset. Her arms were crossed, hands clenched in fists, and her whole body was stiff as a board. “I have a right to worry! You should thank Baz for sending Rachel to tell me, or we’d be having a completely different conversation right now.”

Austin didn’t want to think about how that conversation would go. He could still feel the weight of Baz’s hand on his shoulder, and was suddenly immensely grateful for it.

The older man patted his back with a gentle smile. “I’ll be right back, okay you two? I’m going to arrange for a car to take you to the hospital for some stitches. Better to do them there, right doc?”

The medic nodded, examining the cut again. “Agreed.”

Y/n shifted awkwardly on her feet as she watched him walk away, her fiery eyes wandering to the medic. The poor soul seemed to notice, and after a moment's thought, motioned for Austin to take the gauze he was holding. “Here, you take this. Keep the pressure, okay? I should probably help Baz make a few calls.”

Y/n stepped forward before Austin could speak. “I’ve got it.”

She slipped herself closer into her boyfriend's hold, pressing the gauze with gentle fingers despite the firm pressure. Austin spread his legs a little to make room for her, and settled both hands comfortably on her hips once the medic turned to walk away.

Austin couldn’t help it. He knew Y/n was upset with him, and yet his heart still raced at the feeling of her so close to him like this.

“What happened?” she asked after a breath.

He gave her hips a gentle squeeze. “We were doing another concert performance, like I told you. Filming for the ‘Burning Love’ montage.”

Y/n nodded along.

“And we decided it was time to switch into another costume, which was fine. But I’ve never worn this jumpsuit before, beyond trying it on. I guess I’m not used to how it feels yet. Anyways, it came to the part of the song where I do the guitar toss, and the strap got stuck on my cape. So I had to tilt the guitar as I was throwing it to get it unstuck, and when I did, I caught myself on the face.”

While he spoke, Y/n used her other head to cup his face, turning it to properly examine the injury with her own eyes. Austin let her, mostly because he thought she looked really cute when focusing so intently.

When Y/n was satisfied with her examination, her eyes met him again with a sigh. “I’m mad at you, you know,” she said very matter-of-factly.

Austin nodded with a soft smile. “I know.”

“You promised me you’d be careful. And not telling me when you’re hurt, Austin? Seriously?”

“I was always going to tell you, baby. Maybe just…when everything was more under control.”

“You mean you were gonna put a band-aid over it and call it a day?”

His smile turned sheepish. “Probably.”

“Mhm,” Y/n mumbled, because she knew her boyfriend better than anyone else. She knew what he was thinking, even when he didn’t want her to. Perhaps that’s what made her so angry.

Austin fought the urge to purr like a cat when her hand found his hair, running it through her fingers and brushing it off his forehead. “Does it hurt?” Y/n asked him in a tone that told him she was on the road to forgetting her anger for now.

“No,” he lied. It hurt a bit, though he thought he’d worried her enough for one night.

She leaned into his tightening grip. “The stitches will hurt.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, moving awkwardly to press a loving kiss to her cheek. Sometimes, Austin felt stupid for loving this girl as much as he did.

Y/n giggled at the feeling while struggling to hold the gauze on his forehead, and he felt the vibrations through his lips. “I bet I could kiss it better.”

His whole face lit up at the thought, which only made her laugh again. “Oh, you definitely could. I think that’s exactly what I need.”

Her fingers gripped his chin lightly, pointing it down so she could reach his forehead, where she then placed a quick peck to just above the offending cut. Austin pouted up at her, tapping his lips.

“It hurts a little here, too.”

“I’m sure it does,” Y/n hummed sarcastically, though she still pressed a small kiss to his awaiting lips. Too quick, if you asked Austin.

“I feel better already,” he assured her. “I think I’m gonna need a few more of those throughout the night, though. You know, to speed up the healing process.”

Y/n gave him a knowing smirk with loving eyes. “I’m at your service.”

A true level of seriousness settled behind his next words. “And I’ll try to be more careful from now on, okay? I promise.”

“I’ve heard those words before.”

“I meant them then,” he nodded. “And I mean them now. Accidents happen, baby.”

Her eyes faltered, as if suddenly feeling guilty, which wasn’t at all what Austin was aiming for. “I know.”

He was quick to continue. “But you’re right. I need to be smarter about things. No more doing scary stuff in costumes I’ve never worn, okay? Or anything else in the same category of stupid.”

That made her laugh, which Austin considered to be a success. “That sounds like a better deal.”

Austin couldn’t even feel the pain in his temple. He didn’t notice the scratch of the gauze, the burn of the cut being exposed to air, or the sting from anti-infection spray that the medic put on earlier. All of it paled in comparison to the love he felt from Y/n.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #elvis presley #Elvis Movie #Elvis biopic #elvis 2022

1K notes · View notes