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Unlocking the Power of Leg Exercises: A Guide

Legs exercises that are better than the back squat? Is it possible?

If you have small legs and think the only way to grow them is by squatting heavy, then you need to rethink your approach.

Troy Adashun explains how he switched up his leg training and managed to achieve impressive strength and muscle gains without using the barbell back squat.

He argues that there are many other lower body exercises that are better when it comes to hypertrophy of the lower body.

“I wanted to make this video because, contrary to popular belief, you don’t need to squat heavy weights to grow your legs. Today’s leg workout for growth will contain no barbell squats whatsoever.”

“When I started lifting, I thought squatting as heavy as I could was the best way to get bigger legs, but it turns out I was training more for strength than hypertrophy. Try this leg workout for bigger legs and feel the difference in the rep ranges, pacing of each rep, and overall exercise selection.”

“These leg exercises will blow up your legs in a short and intense workout. I call this type of training the balloon method, and it’s how I train to grow any muscle.”

Exercises that are Better than the Squat for Lower Body Muscle Gain

Legs Exercises that are Better: Dumbbell Bulgarian Split SquatProbably one of the most painful and effective leg exercises that exists.

Go nice and deep, and don’t cheat the movement.

You will feel this all the way from your glutes to your quads.

Stick to a 10- to 12-rep range for maximum muscle growth gains.

Keep the knees over the toes and overload each leg, one leg at a time. To make the exercise even harder, try paused reps. Hold the bottom position for at least 3 seconds to maximize time under tension.

Legs Exercises that are Better: Dumbbell Walking Lunges Super Set with Hands Over the Head Walking Lunges

This will further fatigue the legs in a functional and challenging way.

Again, the superset will extend the time under tension, which will result in more muscle growth.

Growth Tip: Add bodyweight versions of each exercise as a super set.

Legs Exercises that are Better: Dumbbell Sumo Squats

This is an excellent alternative if you are experiencing any lower back issues or are recovering from an injury.

It is impossible to load as heavy as you would for a back squat, and it forces you to keep your core and spine upright and tight.

You can choose to perform this with an elevated heel if you find ankle mobility an issue. Simply place your heels on a weight or bumper plate.

Make sure to squeeze at the top and concentrate on the mind muscle connection.

Legs Exercises that are Better: Leg Extensions Super Set with Dumbbell Romanian Deadlift

Go for 3 sets of 12 reps of both exercises. The RDLs must be performed immediately after completing the leg extensions.

Form Tip: Point your toes out slightly and squeeze your quads as tightly as possible at the top of the movement.

Troy Adashun believes that the following equation, performed within the right rep ranges, is a great principle for leg growth: “Intensity + Consistency = growth.”

TIME-STAMPS FOR VIDEO:

00:00 Why Squats are killing your gains

00:15 The truth about chicken legs

00:50 The perfect leg workout for fast growth

01:50 One of the most painful leg exercises you can do (but it works!)

03:00 DB walking lunges superset for growth

04:45 Great barbell squat alternative

05:20 Great superset for quads and hamstrings

As a final disclaimer, Troy states that consistent back squatting in the 10 – 12 rep range is a phenomenal way to grow your legs. However, he bebelieves that or beginner athletes this runs in parallel with a higher risk of injury than many of the other exercises that he included in his video.

Muscles of the legs

Your legs are full of lots of muscles that control movement in different ways. Some help you walk, while others help you run or jump. The quadriceps are located at the front of your thigh, while the hamstrings are located on the back side. Both groups of muscles work together to provide power and stability when you’re moving around.

Quadriceps (Quads)

The quads are the muscles that make up your thighs. They extend or bend your knees and straighten your hips. The quadriceps consists of four individual muscles: vastus lateralis, rectus femoris, vastus medialis, and vastus intermedius.

Vastus Lateralis

The Vastus Lateralis is one of your quadriceps muscles. It’s located on the outer side of your thigh, and it helps you extend your leg. The Rvastus lateralis is a large muscle that can be strengthened with exercises such as lunges and squats.

The vastus lateralis is located on the outer side of your thigh.

The vastus lateralis is located on the outer side of your thigh. The muscle extends from the middle of your knee to the top of your patella (knee cap), and it lies underneath a layer of fat.

The vastus lateralis is one of four large muscles making up the quadriceps group in your leg: rectus femoris, vastus medialis, and vastus intermedius are its three counterparts. A small portion of each has an anterior attachment point at your pelvis called an iliotibial band or ITB (pronounced I-T-B). This band helps stabilize and support these muscles as they bend your knee forward or back during exercise or daily activities like walking up stairs or climbing into bed after a long day at work.

Rectus Femoris

The rectus femoris is a quadriceps muscle. It makes up one-quarter of your thigh muscle and originates at your pelvis and inserts at the tibia and patella. This segmented muscle is responsible for flexing your knee joint, which helps you move forward when running or walking uphill.

ectus femoris also helps to stabilize your hip as you perform other movements that involve twisting or bending in different directions (for example, kicking a ball).

The rectus femoris runs down the center of your thigh.

The rectus femoris is one of the quadriceps muscles, located on the front of your thigh. This muscle runs down the center of your thigh from your hip to your knee, attaching to the patella (knee cap) in its final few inches.

This muscle is responsible for extending (straightening) and flexing (bending) the knee joint, which allows you to move forward and back in walking motions, as well as turn and twist when running.

Vastus Medialis

The vastus medialis is a muscle located on the inner side of your thigh. It attaches to your knee cap and helps you extend and flex your legs. It also helps you flex your knees by turning inwards. The vastus medialis can help prevent injuries like ACL tears because it is used to stabilize the knee joint during movement.

The vastus medialis is located on the inner side of your thigh. It attaches to your knee cap.

The vastus medialis is located on the inner side of your thigh. It attaches to your knee cap, and helps straighten your leg.

Vastus Intermedius

Vastus intermedius is located underneath the rectus femoris and extends from your hip to your knee. It attaches to your knee cap, which helps it extend and flex legs, as well as flex knees.

The vastus intermedius is located underneath the rectus femoris and extends from your hip to your knee.

The vastus intermedius is located underneath the rectus femoris and extends from your hip to your knee. It is a quadriceps muscle, which means that it helps flex your knee.

Hamstrings

The hamstrings are located on the back of your thighs. These muscles help you extend and flex your legs. They also work with your quadriceps to flex or bend your knees, as well as help prevent injuries such as ACL tears.

If you’re an athlete who needs to increase speed, stability or power, having strong hamstrings is beneficial. For example: if you’re playing football (American or otherwise), having strong hamstrings will allow you to make sharper turns when running downfield because they help keep your body upright while sprinting instead of letting it fall forward when turning left or right at high speeds like it might otherwise do so easily without strong hamstrings supporting them!

Your legs are full of lots of muscles that control movement in different ways

Your legs are full of lots of muscles that control movement in different ways. The quadriceps and hamstrings are the main muscles on the front and back of your thigh, respectively. The vastus medialis is on the inside of your leg. Abductor muscles (the gluteus medius and minimus) support hip motion while adductor muscles (adductor longus, brevis and magnus) squeeze in from each side to hold things together!

Yoga is a popular growing fitness activity, and a yoga mat is recommended for proper balance and comfortable practice. Rubber yoga mats, Personalized Yoga Mats, TPE Yoga Mats, and other choices are available in various colors, forms, sizes, materials, and designs. Choose your mat based on your level of comfort.

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𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; phone/video call sex, use of toys, male and female masturbation), sex work (obviously, look at the title), dieter being down astronomically bad with a burgeoning housewife kink, basically nothing to do with the movie he's from whatsoever it's just porn with almost no plot

(my challenge for @the-slumberparty this week was to write a fic that has a bouquet of flowers somewhere in it! leave it to me to find a way to include that in something so insanely smutty...)

He couldn’t stop watching you—both right now, in this moment, and just generally.

Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your cunt slid up and down on the glass dildo, your walls gripping every ridge and detail of the toy, your arousal coating it and running in droplets down to the base.

And for the past two weeks, your videos had been his obsession.  Maybe it technically qualified as a porn addiction—but it wasn’t just about that.  He didn’t watch anyone else, and he didn’t even jerk off every time he watched one of your videos; sometimes he just liked hearing your voice, feeling less alone in quarantine in his hotel room.

Most people just put on sitcom reruns or the local news to make a hotel room feel less empty, but that didn’t work for Dieter.  Maybe being an actor ruined the illusion of scripted TV for him—and as for the news, well, nobody would be comforted by the news these days.

So he turned to the only comfort he could rely on when all else failed: masturbation.  But he didn’t like to do it without something to watch, and normally he would just find a video he liked and work with that, but something tempted him to try a cam site… and now he was never turning back.

You weren’t the first girl he saw, it took a little scrolling, but something about your channel caught his eye.  It didn’t take even a full stream before he was addicted: you scratched every itch.

First of all, though he didn’t want to be too shallow, he couldn’t deny that your body was just his type.  It felt like he could stare at you naked for hours and never get bored—and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t turn you around and look at every inch of you.  Instead he just had to lay back and let you show what you wanted; in a way, it was like a dominance thing—he was a victim to your whims, he could only get what you offered and that was it. 

That said, you never left him wanting, that was the second thing he couldn’t resist about you.  Your videos were… indulgent, maybe that’s the word he was looking for: it was so much more than just a girl rubbing herself in front of the camera and calling it a night.  You spent a while talking with the viewers and reacting to comments, sometimes while undressing if you weren’t already naked; then, you upped the ante bit by bit, teasing yourself and him until it finally culminated in you bringing yourself to the peak over and over—until neither of you could take anymore.  He wasn’t just satisfied after watching you, he was exhausted, in the best way.

And lastly, this one was probably just him projecting, but you seemed… sweet?  Kinky, sure, but with something real about you—kinda that girl-next-door vibe.  Maybe it was because you started some of your videos in normal clothes—not lingerie, not a sexy nurse outfit or whatever people are into these days—just a baggy band t-shirt and shorts or an old hoodie and pajama pants.  It was hard not to imagine you as his girlfriend during those streams.  Actually, once he let himself do it, he couldn’t stop—and it got him harder than anything else.

Perhaps Dieter had a bit of a reputation, and most would say he wasn’t very… sentimental with women.  They wouldn’t be wrong, but they’d be misunderstanding him a bit.  Truth be told, he was a pretty sensitive guy, and he’d always wanted a real relationship, it was just difficult with his career.  Love is sort of like eating healthy: maybe you like to cook, maybe you like green beans and chicken breasts, but when a bag of potato chips is right there, you know what you’re probably gonna end up eating.

And Dieter really did go through ‘em like potato chips.  It was easier that way.  He got used to expressing his emotions through acting, and when emotions become your career, it’s a lot harder to be vulnerable for free.

Sometimes he wished he’d met you in person, somehow.  (Then again, right now he was wishing he could meet anyone in person.)  But if he’d met you in person, he would’ve probably just hit on you, convinced you to sleep with him, and then gone back to his same old habits—you would’ve just been another meaningless night.  Instead he was trapped in this hotel, using his laptop like a window to the outside world, and you had become his vice.  Even drugs couldn’t do for him what you could; the high you brought him was incomparable.

He told you just as much; sure, he felt like kind of a loser, but he started commenting on your streams hoping to get a reaction.  I think I’m addicted to your videos.  It was just one in a long string of adoring, horny comments that floated up alongside your video that day as you were casually touching yourself—one hand teasing your breast, pinching and circling the nipple, the other between your legs as you gently rubbed your clit.  You hadn’t noticed his comment that time—or if you had, you didn’t say anything—but the next time, you saw it.  You’d been using a vibe, taking it on and off your clit so you could edge yourself: that alone was a feat of self-discipline he couldn’t imagine.  Can’t wait to see you cum, he’d written, too worked up himself to really wonder if it was clever or interesting.

You smiled, a little breathless laugh coming out more through your nose than your mouth.  “Can’t wait to see you cum,” you repeated, “me either, buddy.  Shit.  Need to come so bad.”

Hearing you read his comment made him actually anxious—like an adrenaline rush, like when he was a kid and hadn’t gotten rid of his stage fright yet.  You had such an effect on him; his heart was still racing when he finally came—he managed to wait until you did, only because he didn’t start jerking off until the last minute.  Having to keep his throbbing dick out of his hand was an enormous task, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.  And it was worth it, to come with you; he loved hearing your moans as you came, imagining how you’d sound if he was fucking you—imagining all his come painting your stomach or ass or even going inside you…

And now, right now, he was imagining that last thing—imagining filling you with his come.  You rode that glass dildo beautifully, and when he moved his hand at just the right pace, he could watch and feel the way you would ride him.

“Mm, y’like that?” you moaned, looking back at the camera—damn, if you looked back at him like that while you were on his cock he’d be a fucking goner.

“Yeah,” he panted, in real life, because responding to you aloud was a bad habit when he was close to coming.

“Wanna come in me?” you encouraged, and he bit his lip as he nodded; he wanted to shut his eyes from the pleasure, but he couldn’t miss a second of you picking up the pace as you bounced on the toy.  “Wanna fucking come inside me?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he panted out, starting to fuck up into his hand when your pace felt teasingly slow (even though it was already getting so much faster).

“C’mon baby, I want it—come in me, nice and deep,” you begged, voice getting shakier as your own orgasm neared.  “Can you come with me?  Please?  Just fill me up right as you make me come—fuck, so good—”

“God, baby,” he whined, tightening up his stomach to try not to come instantly.  Thankfully, he only had to hold out a few more seconds before he heard you start to make those undeniable moans: when you came, you were loud.  He fucking loved that.

“Yes, yes!” you screamed, and he swore he could see the way your pussy squeezed that toy, he could see the shiver that ran up your spine—he’d give anything to feel that squeeze on his cock, to feel that shiver under his hands…

Come painted his hand, splattering onto his chest and thighs; if only he’d had the thought in advance to take his robe off entirely before he did this, now he was going to have to send some very shameful laundry to the front desk.

“Fuck, that was intense,” you laughed breathlessly as you started to recover.  He could tell you were still a bit shaky as you lifted yourself off the dildo— and he winced, the last drop of come squeezing out of his slit, when he saw the way your pussy was left gaping for juuust a moment by the toy.  Then one squeeze and it was like you were back to normal; she’s fucking incredible, he thought to himself, finally taking his hand off of his softening dick.

Panting, he felt the slightest tinge of shame in the back of his mind.  Not just shame, actually, but loneliness: he watched you smile and turn to face the camera again, reading the slew of filthy praises in your comments, and he just wished it was the two of you— in real life, alone, holding each other…

But this was easier, this was so much easier.  Being alone meant there was no one here to judge him, and that was worth having no one to wrap up in his arms in a time like this.

As he snagged a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off, he listened to you read and react to some comments.  “Thanks, guys,” you beamed as you were overwhelmed with so hot and I just came so hard and you’re perfect.  “You flatter me, stop it…”

He had to bite his lip when you started to play with your own tits, seemingly out of nowhere.

“They’re so sensitive after I come,” you explained with a giggle, then a moan as you pinched and teased the buds.  “Have any of you ever tried that?  Playing with your nipples?”

Dieter laughed as the comments poured in: what? that’s fucking gay all the way to I’m doing it right now for you my queen

“Oh god, has it been an hour already?  I think I need to hop off, guys,” you announced.

Instantly the chat was flooded with pleas of don’t go!! and ten more minutes and how much do we tip for more time?

“If anybody wants to keep the conversation going, private chats are on sale on my page right now,” you explained with a friendly smile.  “But if not I’ll see you tomorrow!  Or, you’ll see me.”

With a flirty wave to the camera, the image froze and blurred; STREAM ENDED popped up on the screen.  It was already trying to suggest other streamers live right now that he could watch, but Dieter only sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.

“Private chats…” he mumbled to himself remembering what you said.  He knew that you offered other services on your page, but something about you mentioning it this time got his attention.  As he considered for a second if he should’ve washed his hands before touching the trackpad, he navigated to your page and looked at the menu of additional services for purchase.  The list was long: private chats, as you’d mentioned; custom videos anywhere from 15 minutes to a concerningly-long two hours; a subscription to daily nude pictures, sent via Snapchat; even used panties available for shipping anywhere in the US and Canada.

He was originally just going to get a custom video, but as he scrolled through more options, he saw one-on-one video chat, and he got that feeling again—the adrenaline rush.  It took him a second to even compose himself enough to read the description.

Do you hate having to share me with all the other viewers during my streams?  I’d love to have some personal time to get to know you better, and do exactly what you’ve been dreaming of.  You can use voice if that’s easier for you than text—top fans can even turn their camera on if they so desire.

A half-hour video chat was only $75— that sounded like a steal to Dieter right now— and they were available to book as soon as tomorrow.  The idea made him feel all tingly and weird, but weird in a good way.

Top fans can even turn their camera on…

His constant engagement with your page for the last couple weeks had earned him the ‘top fan’ badge.  When he imagined showing you his face, his body, he got unexpectedly anxious, though; he wasn’t a particularly shy guy, but this was a delicate issue.  What if you recognized him?  What if you were a fan?  That would be weird— in a bad way.

Or what if you were a fan and you were overcome with the need to send him free videos, free pictures, even being willing to meet up with him sometime?  That would be… convenient, certainly, in some ways; but the thought overwhelmed him, and he decided that if he was going to buy one of these chats, his camera would have to stay off.  Just not worth the trouble.

He decided something else, too; a strange instinct, but one he was too deep in his post-orgasmic haze to resist.  He wanted to send you a gift.  Mostly, he hoped it would set him apart from other viewers— give you two something to talk about during that call.  If he bought you a toy from your wishlist, maybe you could use it for the first time for him… that would be incredibly hot.

Or maybe he’d buy you something more normal, like a nice throw pillow for the bed you laid on for some of your videos… the domesticity of that certainly attracted him.

But then, he had a simpler idea.  When in doubt while giving a gift to a woman, why not stick to the classics, right?

There was a P.O. Box for fanmail and gifts on your page, and he pulled up another tab to search: can you send flowers to a po box?

Just because he was a whore didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic.

~

“I have to say, I get a lot of gifts… never gotten flowers before.”

His heart warmed to hear you say that— but it didn’t stop racing.  This felt different: having you here, in only a t-shirt and panties as he’d seen you many times, but knowing it was just for him… he loved it, but it was a little scary.  In a good way.  “Do you like them?” he asked.

“Yeah!” you smiled, fiddling with the stems as the vase sat beside you.  “Pink roses, lilies, orchids… you’re gonna spoil me, Hector.”

(Yes, he gave you his real name.  Ironically, he used it to hide who he actually was— but he liked hearing you say it.)

“Not that I mind,” you added with a wink.  “Do you mind if I have these in the background of my next stream?  They'll match the toy I'm gonna use."

"O-oh, yeah, sure,” he choked.  “What toy are you gonna use?”

You smirked a little, to the point that he almost felt stupid for asking that— but you didn’t mind showing him, in fact you had it ready and showed the baby-pink toy off for him.  His throat got a little tighter when he saw the U-shape of the toy; didn’t take a genius to imagine where that would go… and already his mind was jumping ahead to how you’d look with those silicone ends penetrating both your holes—

“Looks like fun,” he managed to get out, and you looked pretty proud of yourself for making him a bit flustered.

“Do you wanna turn your camera on?” you offered suddenly after you’d set the toy aside.  “No pressure, of course.”

He went through a whole rollercoaster when you asked that.  Because yes, he did—sort of.  But would it just make things more complicated?  What if you were uncomfortable with him being famous, thought he might expose you or something—or, more concerningly, what if you exposed him?  Or what if you just berated him with dumb fan questions when he was trying to forget about his life right now?  “Uh,” he stalled, “is it okay if I don’t, this time?”

“Of course, it’s all up to you,” you replied.  “I’m just a little curious… you have a sexy voice.  Gotta wonder if it matches.”

He didn’t even know if you would think he was sexy—he certainly hoped so, but maybe you had a type of your own.  Maybe you were a lesbian, how should he know?  “Thanks,” he hummed, “you too—but, you know, all of you is sexy.”

“Aw shucks,” you said as you struck a pose, putting your hands under your chin and batting your eyes to complete the sarcastic impression of innocence.  He laughed, and it reminded him why your videos were so special— ‘cause you made him laugh like that.  “You know, a lot of people book these chats because they have a specific kink they want me to try for them,” you explained.  “What about you?  Why’d you book this?”

“Is it weird if I just… kinda wanted to talk to you?”

His heart skipped when he saw your reaction—the shy, tender smile that appeared on your face.  “No, that’s not weird,” you replied, and for some reason it was how incredibly sweet you looked right then that made his cock jump in his boxers.  “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Can we talk about you?”

“Not much to talk about,” you shrugged, smirking a bit; of course you were teasing him, he didn’t even mind.

“I really doubt that,” he chuckled.  “Is this your only job?  Do you do anything else?”

“I, uh, used to do something else,” you answered, “but then they found out about this.”

“Oh, that sucks…”

“Nah, worked out for the best.  Started making way more when I had more time to put into it,” you nodded.  “I like this a lot better, actually.  No sick leave, but no dress code, either.”

“Yeah, that’s a plus,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

“What about you?  What do you do?”

“Um… I’m an actor,” he replied.  He considered lying, but couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” you smiled.  “Wouldn’t have seen you in anything, would I?”

“Probably not,” he laughed off your question.  “Do you, um, have any hobbies?  You must not have a lot of spare time, with people paying for chats and custom videos and all…”

“I take a few days off, here and there,” you nodded, “mostly I just like movies and stuff.”

That made him even more anxious that you would know who he was.  He still hadn’t decided if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, though.

“I like to cook,” you added. 

It was starting to feel like you were intentionally targeting his newly developed girlfriend fetish.  Instantly his mind was flooded with all this domestic bullshit: shopping with you for ingredients, coming home to a fresh dinner, waking up to you in the kitchen wearing his shirt and flipping pancakes.  “I like to eat,” Dieter replied, “we’re so compatible.”

You laughed, and if this was all just some act where you pretended to think he was funny and interesting, it was the best acting he’d seen in a while.  “Are you flirting?” you noticed, raising an eyebrow as if to point out how fitting-yet-bizarre it was for him to be hitting on you—because he didn’t need to, you were his for the half-hour regardless.  But he liked this better, and he loved making you laugh.

“Maybe,” he offered cryptically in return.

“Is that what the flowers were for?  Are you trying to seduce me?” you accused with a grin.

“Those were just to get your attention,” he admitted.

“Hector, honey,” you cooed, making his heart skip.  “You already have my attention.”

That excited him and his dick, which was now making a tent in his boxers as it waited for some of your promised attention; somehow, just casually-flirtatious conversation with you was almost hotter to him than the usual stuff.  Maybe he was just a little burnt out on all that by now— because talking to you had become much more valuable than seeing you naked.

“Just tell me one thing about you,” you bargained.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“Are you hard?”

He swallowed.  “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice sounding weaker than he meant it to.  You smirked a little.

“We don’t have to,” you assured him, “but if you’re interested, why don’t we get off together, hm?  Does that sound okay?”

Was it a good sign that you were initiating this, or did it just mean you were getting impatient with him?  God, it didn’t matter—he was gonna do whatever you wanted.  “Okay,” he answered.  “Yeah—that sounds… more than okay.”

Biting your lip slightly, the way you looked at the camera almost made him feel like you were sizing him up—even though all you could see was a black screen.  “Are you touching your cock already?”

“N-no, I… I still have boxers on,” he replied.  “Should I?”

“No, you should rub it a little through the boxers,” you instructed.  “That’s what I’m gonna do—touch my clit through these panties.  It’s even more sensitive when I do that, don’t ask me how.”

“R-right, okay,” he nodded.  He already liked taking instructions from you more than he thought he would.  His hand spread out over the bulge in the cotton, a sigh slipping from his lips as he started to find the right amount of pressure so he wouldn’t get too into it too fast.

His eyes were transfixed on the way you spread your legs, and he swore your panties already looked a little damp…

Your finger traced delicately over the seam of your pussy, and his balls tightened up at the way you sighed as you teased yourself.  “You should play with your tits, too,” he informed you, his own voice sounding shaky as he tried to hold back from just getting his cock out and jerking off as fervently as he wanted to.

“You’re just full of good ideas, huh?” you joked, taking your free hand and pinching yourself through your shirt.

“Then here’s another one for you,” he offered, “take something off.”

“Shirt or panties?” you asked.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You smiled and surprised him by lifting your hips, pulling your underwear down your thighs before kicking them off to the side.  For some reason, even though he gave you the choice, he expected you to take the shirt off first; and there was something surprisingly sexy about you still having that casual t-shirt on and nothing else.  (Likely, it was because it made it easier to imagine you just wearing one of his shirts…)

It added a new thrill to the now-familiar sight of your pussy— not that he ever got bored of that view.  “Can you— can you spread it for me?” he panted, nearly whimpering when you took two fingers and scissored apart your lips.  “Fuck, got such a pretty hole, baby…”

He saw it flex as you heard the compliment, and he couldn’t help but moan quietly.  “Yeah?  Have you thought about how good it would feel?” you encouraged with a sigh.  “How good this hole would feel on your cock?”

“Every fucking day,” he promised.  

“Then take it out,” you instructed breathily.  “Start touching your cock, and think about what it would be like if I was there touching you instead.”

Though he was glad to do as you’d said, pulling his throbbing erection from his boxers with a sigh, he had to disobey one of your commands.  “No, m’thinking about a lot more than that,” he replied, and you cracked a smile as you rubbed your clit faster.  “Thinking about being— fuck— inside you…”

You hummed happily; after all that teasing, he was so sensitive and worked up that it felt like he was already fighting to hold himself back.  He certainly couldn’t keep his pace down— right away he was stroking himself quickly, struggling to keep it together.

“Thinking about how fucking tight you are,” he added with a groan, loving the little whimper you let out in return.

“Hector, baby,” you moaned, and he hadn’t heard that name said that way in a very long time.  “This might be over sooner than I thought if you talk like that…”

“Good,” he decided, “it’s not gonna take me very long, either— you always make me like that.”

“How would you fuck me?” you asked, panting, rocking your hips against your hand.  “Tell me how you’d fuck me, baby.”

“Fuck, I—hard,” he choked out.  “So fucking hard—”

“Mm,” you moaned encouragingly.

“And I’d eat you out,” he decided, “before and after.  I’ve been dying to know how your pussy tastes.”

“After, huh?  Is that with your come inside?” you wondered.  “Or did you wanna come on my tits?”

“Inside,” he groaned.  “I’d eat my—fuck—eat my come out of you, I don’t care.”

“That’s dirty,” you purred, “I like it.  I like a man who can clean up his mess.”

“Never liked coming inside that much until I started watching your streams,” he admitted.  “Now it’s all I can think about—coming inside you.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, “want you to think about that when you come for me now, okay?  Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” he promised, moving his hand faster and feeling that tension in his gut that told him the breaking point was approaching.

“Think about filling me up,” you continued, “giving me all that come, so deep inside—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “are you close too?”

“Baby, I’ve been trying not to come since we fucking started,” you admitted— and maybe it was a lie, but he bought it joyously.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come so hard— fuck yes— gonna come for you…”

“Do it,” you begged, “I want you to, I want you to come, Hector.”

“You— you should come, too,” he countered with a shaking gasp, his cock already starting to flex as he knew he was seconds away from losing it.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, your voice itself turning every word into a moan, “I’m gonna come with you, baby, fuck— lemme hear it, wanna hear you come—”

He came with a grunt, squeezing down on his cock with his fist as come launched out in long pulses; “F-fuck, I’m coming, ahhh fuck,” he narrated— normally he wouldn’t say something like that, but you had asked to hear it, so…

“Me too, I— oh!” you shouted, and he watched with heavy eyes as you tossed your head back, hips rocking up into nothing— your hand was a blur over your pussy but he swore he could see it pulsing and clenching, creamy slick leaking slowly from your hole.

The last of his come came out as a fat droplet running down his shaft, making his fingers unpleasantly sticky as the ringing in his ears subsided and he began to slowly come back to reality.  You were panting, pushing yourself just a bit further until your whole body jolted and you quickly pulled your hand away.

“God,” you groaned, “that was… draining.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing a little at how wrecked his own voice sounded.  

“I wish I could just, like, take a nap right now,” you admitted with a tired grin.

“I mean, you could— we’re almost out of time…” he noticed.

“No, I— yeah, I could, but I have something after this,” you replied, and he felt a little twist in his chest.  He didn’t blame you at all for it, but it made him jealous to think of you hopping right on to your next call— it made him feel like he was just one of your thousands of fans, which is not how he wanted you to think of him at all.

“Another call?” he assumed.

“No, just private chats,” you corrected, which somehow made him feel a little bit better, “and I should probably post a few things for my Snapchat— we’ll see.  I will definitely need a break before my stream tonight, though… will I see you there?  Proverbially?”

He smiled a little.  “Yeah, definitely.”

“Drink plenty of fluids before then,” you winked.  “Thanks for calling, Hector… I hope we can do this again sometime.”

It’s an upsell, she’s not actually into you, she’s not actually into you, he tried to force himself to believe.  But it was so much easier, so much more fun, to imagine that you really liked him— that those flowers stood out enough for you to realize that he’s different.

You both said your polite goodbyes and the call ended.  He was definitely sleepier than he anticipated after all that— you said you were, too, which made him just want to have you here even more so you could fall asleep on his shoulder and he wouldn’t have to be alone in this bed for the seemingly-thousandth time in a row.

Exhausted to the bone, some impossible mix of satisfied and starving for more of you, Dieter sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.  He wanted to book his next video call before he passed out.

~

thank you so much for reading! if you're interested in a second part to this, please let me know by reblogging or maybe even leaving a comment! you can read my other works for pedro pascal characters here or check out my full masterlist here

I Put A Spell On You

synopsis: On one of his rare nights off, Dick Grayson decides to check out the bustling, newly reopened underground jazz club in Blüdhaven where he meets a woman that he can’t resist, losing all control of himself.

notes: 18+, Dick Grayson x reader, 3rd person pov, inspired by middle painting & Nina Simone’s “I Put A Spell On You”, put on some jazz while you read💋

Dick didn’t know why he chose to go to a jazz club on his first night off from Nightwing duties in weeks, all he knew was that he had put on his nicest navy silk button up, black dress pants that barely went over his ass, and a black blazer gifted to him by Bruce, all worn with the intention of spending a night at Blüdhaven’s favorite new spot, The Siren’s Den.

There’s been a lot of talk in the city about the former speakeasy. The music was great, hell it was exceptional, the food and drinks were ambrosial, and the singers, the best part, were enchanting.

All of the above were correct. Even though this wasn’t his usual scene, Dick was enjoying himself. The Siren’s Den had the best music, the best food, the best drinks, and by far the best singers he’d ever heard. The space was lit up by soft red lights with one warm spotlight on the stage leaving the table and bar areas pretty dim but light enough to see. Overall, the atmosphere felt sexy and mysterious, and due to the popularity of the place, it was packed this Saturday night.

He’d been sitting at the bar for about half an hour now enjoying the music and the booze when he spotted her. There she was, a woman around his age sitting all alone at a table with a drink in her hand just like him. She had on a silk navy dress that flattered her breathtaking figure, matching perfectly with his button up. One of her straps was teasingly sliding off her shoulder, hair pushed away to the other side leaving the soft skin exposed.

Dick Grayson had seen, and been with, many gorgeous women in his life, but this one felt different. She was tantalizing, swaying to the jazz songs so sensually evoking a familiar feeling deep inside him.

“How could a woman like her be sitting all by herself?” He thought, “How could no one have approached her by now, tried to win her affection? Has she rejected every man who has tried already, god am I about to make a fool of myself?” But when has shame, humiliation, or rejection ever stopped the Boy Wonder, don’t answer that.

With a little more liquid courage, he confidently makes his way over to her without any idea of what he’s gonna say or do when he comes face to face with the beauty.

“Hi,” Dick greets her taking her attention away from the band to him, “Dick Grayson.”

She slowly tilts her head to the side inquisitively, curious as to what he was going to say next. Silence was the only thing to follow his introduction as he himself had nothing prepared making her lips curl up into a small smirk.

“Hi, Dick Grayson,” she broke the silence.

“Hi,” he said again breathlessly, “seat beside you taken?”

“Nope,” she said sweetly paired with an angelic smile that he returned.

“Mind if I join you?”

She didn’t say anything, instead she slowly shifted her herself over making room for him. Without hesitation, Dick relaxes next to her, not using the extra space she gave him resulting in their thighs almost touching. He took off his blazer feeling his body temperature already rising, he already wished to rip off both their clothes and take her right here in this booth, he’s never felt this aroused by a stranger before.

She shifts her attention back onto the performance in an attempt to hide her already rosy cheeks, but Dick was feeling needy and selfish, wanting the beauty’s eyes and ears on him, not the musicians. He gently placed his strong hand under her jaw, slowly moving her head to look at him again, smiling when he does. He had a beautiful smile, the kind that made you smile without even realizing it, even if you tried your best not to.

“How does a beautiful angel like you come here by yourself?”

“Maybe I just enjoy quality time with myself, and you’re interrupting my night,” she giggled sweetly causing Dick’s smile to grow wider.

Dick chuckles, “Interrupting huh,” he leaned in closer, their noses now only an inch apart and thighs touching, “you did after all let me join you, I must be something special for you to let me in like that.” Dick’s always been a forward and bold man but this time around it was different, the place’s erotic energy, the booze, and this gorgeous being in front of him quickly made him crazily hot and bothered.

She felt nervous, knowing that he can read her like a book, knowing that he can tell how attracted she was to him, it was written and painted all over her pretty face. He brushed a lose strand of hair from her face, then dragging his hand down her rosy cheek to caress her, keeping his blue eyes locked on hers. Those pretty blue eyes, she was getting completely lost in them.

“You’re the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever been blessed with,” he softly admits, warm hand still placed on her burning cheek. He made her feel like a little kid talking to a stranger for the first time, like a teenage girl walking past her hallway crush, she was a nervous wreck with him in the best way possible.

“What’s a charming man like you doing single?”

“Looking for a woman like you,” he moved his hand down to her exposed neck, every part of her body was burning up, same with his. His eyes trailed down to her mouth, leaning in closer, brushing his pink lips against her soft ones colored in red from her expensive lipstick.

“Please let me kiss you, I don’t think I can wait a minute more,” he breathed out, looking into her eyes again for approval.

“It’s only been a few minutes,” she teased.

“Please,” he asked again, even more desperately than the last time.

The second she gave him a nod of approval, he pressed his lips to hers, slowly savoring each moment and movement. They hungrily continued kissing each other, like it was the last time they would share this moment together, growing more and more hot with each exchange. Sloppy lipstick stains were marked on Dick’s mouth, claiming him as hers for the night, the sight was salacious. Yes, the place was packed, no, they didn’t care, all they cared about was having each other.

Dick started shifting his lips down her jaw, causing her to lean her head back, hoping he’d soon reach her neck, “That where you want me doll?” She nodded to his suggestive question, “Tell me, tell me how you want me to kiss your neck, tell me how bad you want me to mark you up.”

“Please, Dick,” was all she could muster. Dick didn’t have the patience within him to tease her, he needed to ravage every bit of her, now.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” He finally connects his lips to her pulsing neck, taking in her sweet scent. He starts drawing purple marks on her neck, licking the spot over once done with his work, earning a sweet sigh from his girl. While continuing his painting on her neck, one hand started to make its way down her body, rubbing up and down the sides of her glorious frame, the other holding the nape of her neck, his long fingers caressing her hair.

She reaches her hands out to feel him up that way he was touching her, one hand in his soft wavy black hair, pulling him closer where she needs him, the other traveling across his muscular thigh.

Dick pulls one of her legs onto his lap, spreading them slightly. He finishes his piece on her neck and focuses back on her eyes again, not wanting to miss a single reaction of hers. He keeps one hand on the base of her neck, the other one now moved down to her spread thighs, rubbing up and down. He watches her closely, seeing how far she’d let him take this in a public setting.

She moves a hand to rest atop his much larger one, guiding him higher up where she’s waiting for him. Once his hand reached the small space between her inner thigh and lacy panties, she pulled herself off, letting him take control.

He rested his calloused hand over her clothed heat, teasingly rubbing small circles in the perfect spot, “Dirty, dirty girl. You want me to please you in front of all these people?” Even if anyone was looking at them, they didn’t care. Their desire for each other was uncontrollable, their bodies felt like they were on fire. The music felt like it was getting louder, the lights more red and the conversations around them more lively.

“Yes,” she breathed out, “Yes, please.”

Her sweet pleads and lustful look was all Dick needed to slip his hand into the fabric she called underwear. He pressed his lips to hers, suppressing any moans she’d make while his he used her slickness to rub her where she craved him and prep himself for her entrance. She moved one of her hands to his shirt, unbuttoning him a bit for her and feeling his toned chest, her arousal growing stronger.

Tell me how much you need this, tell me how much you need me,” he moved his lips to her ear, demanding her response to his risqué request.

She needed him more than air right now. She felt so empty without him, like Dick Grayson was the only man who could ever fill her void, the only man who could sate her hunger. She couldn’t verbalize how eager she was for him, letting her body tell him instead.

She trailed her hand up to his crotch, feeling Dick grow with each movement and sound she made. He was straining against his slacks, desperately trying to free himself, but he wanted to hear her unravel for him first.

Dick quickly slipped in his finger with ease causing her to gasp and bury her head in his neck, “Don’t by shy baby, want everyone to hear how I was the lucky guy to get this pretty pussy tonight,” shamelessly adding another finger in her needy hole that was molding around his long fingers, welcoming him in, hoping he’d never leave. She felt whole with him, he was filling her up so well, making her feel euphoric.

The crude wet sounds of Dick pumping himself into her and her gentle moans were drowned out by the band and crowd getting louder. His curved fingers brushing her sweet spot, thumb rubbing fast circles on her clit, his other hand now pulling her straps further down in an attempt to get more of her, his dirty dirty mouth, “You like this? Like me fucking fingering you in front of all these people yea? You’re a sin,” was enough for her to want to release already.

“Wait, Dick–mm, not here,” she hesitantly pulled herself off of him, “need you all, come with me,” Dick helped her stand up, letting her take him anywhere as long as he had her. Her hair and dress were disheveled, his blazer thrown over his shoulder, button up not even buttoned, bulge very prominent, begging to be inside her, and both their faces red with desire.

With that, the two walked out of the club, hands still all over each other, not even bothering to adjust themselves, to continue their night, consuming each other so they will never forget their night at The Siren’s Den.

Watermelon (nsfw)

pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

summary: Thanks to tiktok trends y/n has an idea she needs Noah to help her with, but then Noah gets his own idea he just can't resist.

cw: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, Oral Sex.

author’s note: I started this before I was supposed to move, but thanks to the recent photos of Noah and this thighs adding to the idea for the ending of reader asking about him and a melon lol, it was just begging to be finished NOW...

~~ Holy hell, she knew she wanted to do this the moment she saw the tiktok videos started to surface.. Okay, no, that wasn’t quite true. At first she’d thought it was ridiculous watching those videos. Seeing those women with those watermelons clenched between their thighs, squeezing them.. And half of them were pathetic little stick women. They were nothing. But then, then she’d started thinking about the fact that she could do that, well, probably could, in her sleep.

Maybe.

Well.

She thought she might be able to. Y/N could try anyway. She really wanted to try. Of course, this was only going to be a one time deal, even if she might need more than one shot to actually get it done, there was no way she was going to try to go at this more than one session, no way. Y/N was not going to risk screwing up and not getting the shot that she wanted. It was all, or nothing. That was where Noah came in. Needless to say, he’d been a bit surprised with the request she’d had of him. Maybe more than a bit really. Not only about what she wanted to do, but how she wanted him involved. The two of them have been best friends almost as long as he had known Nicholas, she’d met him shortly after him, hell, she’d met him through Nicholas at school actually. The boys were always great fun to hang out with. She wouldn’t want anyone else. In the years gone by she’d watched those two go from dorky idiots that made music in the garage, and rocket up to stardom, and she couldn’t be happier for them both, for all of them actually. As close as she were to Noah and Nicholas, she’d happily fallen in with Jolly and Folio as well when they’d come into the band, not to mention every other member of the crew. Sometimes y/n felt out of place, considering she didn’t actually do anything to make the band better in one way or another. But that didn’t matter, they were her friends, and she’d always be her friend’s, she’d always be there to cheer them on. This, however, was something completely off the wall. For all the things that Noah thought would test their friendship, he’d had thought it would be the fact that he was away for months of the year. How much he missed the nights cuddled up on the couch watching movies, laughing over a few drinks, snacks, hanging outs. All the time he would lay awake wondering when the moment would come that she’d have enough and wash her hands of them, of him. He couldn’t imagine his life without her as one of his closest friends. When she’d asked him for a favour, he’d agreed without even asking what it was, and then she’d told him, and he’d been shocked, but he hadn’t taken it back. So here he was, watching her lay out the tarp on the floor. The tarp was well, this was possibly going to get messy. He watched as he sat on the tarp with the watermelons, y/n’d lined up a few, and he just was thinking about what she was about to try. He’d always looked at her, while yes, she was one of his best friends, but seeing those thick thighs of hers, did something to him… Now, watching her, seeing her sit on the floor as he held the camera, starting to film just as she wanted him to as she moved the watermelon between her thighs. The muscles of her legs tensed as she started the squeeze at the fruit, and immediately his mouth went completely dry. FUCK Hearing her groan as she shifted the melon to try again. Y/N had to take a few tries to make it work, and each time her thighs clamped around that watermelon Noah swallowed slightly. His throat bobbed as he struggled with how dry his mouth had become. He had always been body positive about your size, he knew how self conscious you were about being thicker than a lot of girls, especially your thighs, never in his life did he think he would consider it as anything more than friendly support. Just like you supported him being healthy with his working out, and bulking up. Yet he stood there filming her as she grinned at him victoriously as she crushed that watermelon between those gorgeous thick thighs, and fuck he wanted to be between those thighs. Hell, crushed like that melon even. Looking up from the viewfinder of the video camera in his hands he looked to y/n, Noah’s eyes darkening.

“Did you get that?”

Y/N asked carefully, Noah’s dark brown eyes were watching her, intensely, and she couldn’t help but squirm, it was making her nervous under his gaze.

“Yea, oh yea.”

Ending the video, Noah swallowed, only tearing his eyes off of her to set it down on the desk. Now was the time to clean up all the mess that had been made, that was why the tarp had been laid down to make it easier.

While y/n was doing that Noah tried to calm down, tried to rationalise that, that what he was feeling didn’t matter, that they were friends, they were friends. Fuck that, they’d been friends for so long, but had he were they really just friends if he wanted to eat her out and let her suffocate him with those thick gorgeous thighs of hers?

No. The answer was no.

So while he could he was splashing water on his face from the guest bathroom.. He was in the guest bathroom because it didn’t have the shower you needed to clean up after being covered in all the watermelon mess. The shower that was running in his ensuite right now, his shower, not that it was even the first time that she was in his shower..

Shit shit shit.. Thinking about her in his shower was not helping his hard-on right now. Looking to himself in the mirror as the cold water dripped down his flushed cheeks, a few deep breaths he closed his eyes, trying and failing not to picture you in his shower and palming his cock through his jeans, fuck.

Making his way back to his room just as she was coming out of her bathroom, dressed in a fitted tank top that practically showcased her ample breasts, and then it seems she pilfered a pair of Noah’s Omens Varsity Shorts for those beautiful thighs. Fuck, he wanted his hands on them. He wanted to be between them and not just his pants to be on her.

“Y/N, so, I ah, I had a thought.”

Taking in a deep breath as he looked to her, she looked up to him, Noah always had towered over her, making her feel small even when she knew she was anything but small. That wasn’t what made her nervous though, she was used to that, it was the way he was looking at her, that fierce look in his eyes, the kind of look he got when he was fixated on a song, and it made her wonder what was going through that head of his.

“Let me guess, favour for favour, huh? Okay, what was this going to cost me?”

She assumed that getting him to film her meant that whatever he was about to say was something he wanted from her in return..

“Oh no, that's not what this is, Princess, hear me out,”

Her stomach twisted when he called her that, it wasn’t the first time, it started with him teasing her and then it just became a nickname that he used whenever he was just playing around with her, between the two of you.

“No cost, no favours..”

Stepping towards her,

“You trust me, Princess, don’t you?”

Smirking as he stopped in front of her, and she stood as tall as she good, looking to him a little warily at that look in his eyes, she’d say it was almost hungry,

“I- of course, always Noah. bu-”

He didn’t let her continue when, one moment she was trying to figure out that intent look in those dark eyes and the next he was grasping her thighs with those large hands and literally picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. Noah couldn’t help himself, kissing Y/N like she was the very air that he needed to breathe. She gasped against his mouth, shocked and yet, it would be a bold faced lie to say she’d never thought about this man like this.

She’d had a crush on Noah forever, but he was one of her best friends, her best friend that she never wanted to even consider risk losing, and here he was, kissing her like he wanted to fucking devour her. Not to mention, here she was, kissing him back, and yes, she really did want to devour him she decided, because how could she not? She was so distracted kissing him that she didn’t realise that he was carrying her into his bedroom until he was dropping her down onto his bed, hands gripping her thighs as he panted against her mouth.

“Don’t you dare hold back Princess.”

Before she knew it, he was tugging the shorts and her panties from her body, she wasn’t sure but she might have heard a pull of the lace seams of her underwear, they were not her best ones. Wearing her good panties today would have been ridiculous considering what they’d been doing,

“Oh my Go-”

A moan was ripped from her cutting off her words when Noah delved between her legs, he’d parted her inner thighs with his hands, settling between her on his chest and brought his mouth right to her pussy. He was a man on a mission, and his grin wry and wicked as he pulled back only to remark,

“Noah is fine, but that works.”

Kneading at those glorious thick thighs he couldn’t stop touching, bringing his tongue to her clit as he pulled y/n’s thighs over his shoulders and sucked.

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her hips against his face as she felt his fingers push inside of her while he sucked on her clit, it was all she could do not to tense, her thighs starting to shake as she moaned. Her fingers were tangled in his hair as her body arched from the bed when he curled those sinfully long fingers inside of her until she was clenching down as he scraped his teeth against her clit when her orgasm hit.

“N-Noah?”

He wasn’t stopping though, pumping his fingers into her again, twisting them slightly as he sucked at her clit harder, his eyes flickering up to her as her fingers pulled at her hair as she groaned, sensitive now after she’d just cummed. Whimpering as she looked down to him, the sight of him between her legs,

“Come on, Princess, you can give me more than that, I know you can. You killed that melon, don’t hold back…”

She’d fucking squeezed the life out of that thing, she’d couldn’t do that, to.. He wanted her to.. Looking down to him.. She smirked,

“You want me to do this, it's happening one way and one way only. On your back.”

Climbing off of him. She literally pushed him onto his back on the bed, and almost as if a light went off in his head he was more than eager to comply, the fact that she seemed to be on board with what he wanted, he wasn’t going to say no. Her legs were still shaky from her first orgasm.. Was she really going to do this?

Yes, yes she was.

She was climbing over him first over his chest, and then over his shoulders until she was kneeling over his face, and his hands were hooked over her thighs. When she looked down to him, her hair falling around her face, hesitating, he grinned up to her from between her legs,

“Just sit on my face, Princess, you’ve got this.”

Pressing down, his tongue delved up into her and fuck if this wasn’t even better as her hips rocked against his face. She had more control, riding his mouth, lips, tongue, for all they were worth. Noah’s hands were practically holding her thighs down to keep her on him too, kneading and massaging those gorgeous muscles and she moaned at the feeling of every little thing he was going to her all over..

She didn’t come just once more, but twice, and but after the third orgasm of the day she was almost sobbing, she’d never cum that many times in a row without a break, and there were tears in her eyes as he laid her back on the bed.. Noah leaned over her pressing kisses to her face, completely ignoring the fact his pants were a sticky mess and he was dying to rub one out just from the sight of her cuming on his tongue.

Imagine her cumming on his cock.

“Hey Noah,”

“Yea, Princess?”

“Have you ever tried crushing a watermelon with your thighs?”

Her grin wicked as she looked up at him.

Shit.

Rockstar Eddie Munson x fem reader head canons (feat Steve Harrington)

Adult content ahead. Only 18+ no minors

(This is my first time posting a fic for the Stranger Things fandom on tumblr. Reblogs and feedback/comments are much appreciated.)

ao3 link for the fic

Corroded Coffin had fans everywhere and people who knew and loved heavy metal became lifelong fans.

Eddie loved to crowd surf, stage dive at any show, and even get into the pit. He was well known by concert promoters and club owners/staff alike.

The first time you saw Eddie play live he connected with you instantly and when it came time to meet the fans he made sure to ask you backstage. Out of all the groupies or fans he could've chosen he picked you.

When Corroded Coffin was the headliner he would put 110% into his performances and you would be sure to take pictures of him and CC because they were the best live band you had ever seen.

Once you got on Eddie's tour bus with your VIP all-access pass he played some unwritten songs and covers for you.

You of course bought all of the band's merch and loved all their designs.

Your job for the band was to help run the soundchecks and sell the band's merch and of course, get big tips from some of the fans.

You loved Eddie for so many reasons and him being a rockstar was just a small part of it. When he was onstage you loved to see his energy as a frontman and lead guitarist.

Most tour dinners were nothing special mainly fast food or easy and fast microwaveable food from the local grocery stores. Sometimes though Eddie took you out to dinner and it was romantic.

Eventually, you and Eddie decided to get matching tattoos of a coffin and his band's logo on your right shoulders.

Neither of you were heavy drinkers but wouldn't turn down free drinks and shots. Eddie's favorite drinks were whiskey and vodka but he loved the occasional beer.

Corroded Coffin toured with some amazing bands including Autopsy, Carnivore, WASP, and Napalm Death.

When you were watching shows with him he would either crowd surf or get into the pit. On occasion, he would hold you during the slow rock ballads.

He may have had a bad boy image to the rest of the world but he was more than a rockstar to you and you understood him completely and he loved how down-to-earth you were.

What started as you being a groupie soon turned into a relationship. It was spontaneous and he was the best mix of gentleman and rockstar.

When guys would look at you he was very protective and made sure to leave his mark and let them know you were his girl only. He would mark you up with hickeys or kiss you and hold you close to him.

You got an "I'm with the band the rules don't apply to me" shirt you would wear to some of the band's shows. He of course got an "I'm in the band the rules don't apply to me shirt" he often wore during some of his shows.

Most of your wardrobe consisted of black clothes and ripped jeans, Corroded Coffin shirts, metal tee shirts, and low-cut tops and fishnets along with platform boots. Spiked jewelry, chokers especially, and spiked bras are also a turn-on for him. Eddie would especially love it when you wore all black and when you chose to pair fishnets, a corset, a leather jacket, and heels together- he almost couldn't resist the urge to rip your clothes off.

He usually pairs a Hellfire Club shirt with cutoff and ripped denim jeans together as well as a denim jacket and Converse chucks or Vans tennis shoes but he always looks good.

He wasn't too much into cover songs but on occasion, the band would be known to cover Metallica and Black Sabbath.

For their headline Halloween hometown show you cosplayed Elvira and he loved it. Eddie went as the devil complete with mask, pitchfork, and cloak.

Neither of you have a particular preference for the type of fan/groupie to hook up with but most of the fans wore dark lipstick and were goth/alternative with low-cut black clothes. He was a sucker for women with pretty eyes though.

So many women threw themselves at both of you and took their tops off at his shows but this was just the normal every-night rockstar occurrence. Bras and underwear thrown at him on the stage happened at every show.

Sex on the tour bus was wild. Whether it be with just Eddie, other girls, men, or couples, you still had a wild and crazy time.

One of your favorite partners was Steve. Even though he was a jock he loved going to Eddies shows and supporting him and he loved to see you. After a few drinks and a joint or two, you and Steddie were fucking in the back of the bus in every position.

All the times you fucked other people together were one-night stands. The important thing was that Eddie was yours and all the sex you had with other people was protected.

He got off on seeing you go down on another woman and please her. For his birthday you let him watch and film you fucking 3 other women. He loved it and came so hard just by jacking off to it.

Being with Eddie and other women on the bus you would either fuck on the couches or in the back room and you could pretty much get them to do whatever you wanted. Being with a rockstar came with its privileges after all.

Sometimes you would just have groupies on the tour bus to suck Eddie off and film them as they did so. They were always willing and eager to please and the whole time Eddie would look right into the camera and smile.

Leather, whips, and bondage were some of Eddie's favorite things as well as pegging and you were willing to oblige and sometimes you were even his dominatrix.

Some of the concerts you attended as VIP because of his rockstar status were Ozzy, Judas Priest, Metallica, ACDC, and Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

In the recording studio, it was quite the experience especially when he laid down the vocals. He even had you do guest vocals on the album by recording your moans as he fingered and fucked you.

Most of the time you get a chill and relaxed day off just to go do something fun like paintball, play some Dungeons & dragons, go hiking in abandoned places, go to the roller skating rink or the arcade.

Most days after the shows he takes you to the local bar or strip club/burlesque club and tip the dancers very well, have a few drinks, and bring a girl or two back to the bus.

Dustin and the rest of his gang including Will and Eleven go to the local shows and ones that are all ages of course to see Corroded Coffin and Eddie even gives them a special shoutout and side stage access/VIP treatment.

For a while, he had been thinking about getting another guitarist and he decided to hire you. The gift that he presented when you were going to get asked to be in his band was a Fender electric guitar that was purple. He had been teaching you for a while and giving you lessons and would teach you more.

What you saw as most fitting for his next birthday would be a new electric guitar and you got one for him custom-made with his initials and it was blue. He of course loved it and told you it was the best present anyone had ever gotten him.

For his first big band photoshoot, he made sure you went with him and he posed with you scantily clad but very tasteful. You both had your guitars and posed together.

Once Corroded Coffin had made it big you and Eddie got a place of your own. For so long he wanted to be able to move out of the trailer park so he did and you got a nice place that was decorated with so many rock n roll posters, a King sized bed, silk and satin sheets, and curtains/drapery, a music room, a sex room, and even a small custom recording studio.

The new place was missing something and you decided you wanted to get a pet to adopt so you sat Eddie down and talked it over and it wasn't difficult to convince him to get one. Later that week you went to a cat and dog rescue shelter and found the cutest cat that was a tabby.

When you were on tour either Steve and Robin or Dustin would take care of the cat and you and Eddie made sure to bring home lots of toys when you got back.

Once Eddie's band got their big break and finally played a bigger venue and as headliner, he decided to propose to you onstage.

After being newly engaged to Eddie he had a chance to be in a music documentary and brought you along with him for being his biggest muse.

Being with Eddie and in a touring band was what was the best thing for you now and whatever came next you would be ready for it.

tagging @corneliuswatkins @keeryatmosphere @chrrymunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @bimbobaggins69 @reidsbtch @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @lokis-army-77 @imyourdaninow @ali-r3n @harringtonfan4 @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @bunnsandroses @take-everything-you-can @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @steveslittlesunflower @emsgoodthinkin @jadeylovesmarvelxo @lofaewrites @zestychili @s6raphic @probablyin-bed @corrodedcorpses @dollalicia @hopsgirl

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Pure

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Summary: After your dad takes new more traditional parenting approach, Neteyam finds out and is astonished at the idea of you being a bad girl.

Warnings: P in V, oral F receiving, slapping, rough Neteyam, harsh father figure, use of y/n, and hickeys.

Taglist: @laaalox @dakotali @abbersreads @fanboyluvr

Master list || Next

"I have heard the horrid things, the young navi your age are doing, and to ensure you are saving yourself for your future mate, you are going to wear this," Your father spoke presenting a small round band.

"what is that?" You asked as you took it in your hand.

"A purity ring, Ole'ykatan suggested them," Your father said proudly,"Where it on your finger, it is a sign to all the men of the clan that you will not be participating in these horrid actions and will be waiting for your future mate."

"But-" you tried to interject.

"No buts y/n, I see you without that and there will be extreme consequences," He spoke loudly.

"Now, go get your training done, we will be having dinner with the Ole'ykatan, and his family tonight."

You groaned leaving the hut and heading to the forest into a patch where you would be training with Neteyam.

You sat in the open patch waiting for him to arrive.

He approached sitting down beside you, "Your dad got you with the purity ring?" He asked with a laugh.

"Yes, don't speak," You hissed.

"Your gonna get made fun of, I saw ayeä with one earlier and she was getting ripped into by some of the guys," he spoke laughing slightly.

You groaned laying back on the patch, "This whole thing is stupid."

"Yeah, half the women that have them, have already broken tradition," He laughed," Actually I think your the only one who hasn't." He spoke once again laughing.

"What makes you think that?" You questioned, because you had broken tradition just a few weeks ago, after a party at one of the swimming holes.

"Your a goody-two-shoes, y/n."

"Oh really?" You spoke now looking him in the eye as you sat up.

"Yeah, there's no way you broke tradition, and I wouldn't let you."

You laughed," Well I have." You said proudly however, the smirk that took over your lips quickly faded at his expression.

"You what?" He questioned," With who?"

"Falik." You said dryly. Neteyam now became angered. Falik was always on his Neteyam's ass about being a better warrior or training better than Neteyam had.

"Fucking Falik." He said now angered even more than before.

"What's the big deal?"

"Oh I don't know my best-friend fucking the one guy I can't fucking stand!?"

"Relax," You spoke dryly once again.

"Relax?" He laughed," I swear y/n!"

"You swear what!"

"You know I am better than him!"

"Actually I don't," You spoke as an idea came to your mind. You had always found Neteyam attractive.

He smirked, "Maybe I'll have to prove it then?" He questioned.

"Guess you will," You spoke moving closer to him crashing your lips together.

The kiss soon became sloppy as Neteyam worked his way down your neck, you moaned as he sucked on the sweet spot on your neck, you pulled away slightly,"No mark" you barely made out," Dinner tonight."

"Your not in control here, baby," He smirked moving to mark your neck again, and you just couldn't resist.

As he made his way down your body, untying your top.

He began to massage your breast attaching his lips to the one his hand wasn't focusing on, leaving you moaning his name.

"Thats it baby, Let them hear how good I'm making you feel," He said before attaching his lips to your other breast sucking harshly on it as his hand moved to grope your thighs. He quickly pushed you onto your back moving down between your legs.

He ripped your loin cloth off, kissing along your thighs.

"Nete please," You begged and who was he to resist the sweet girl before him. The sight of your arousal alone was enough to make him cum.

He attached his lips to the bundle of nerves between your legs sucking harshly, his tongue continued flicking through your folds, groping your thighs harder as you squirmed under his touch.

"Nete, I'm gonna cum, fuck," You moaned out, he pulled away just before you climaxed.

"I don't know if you deserve it baby," He said pulling away again," He ran his hands along your body teasing, "Bad girls don't get to cum."

"Nete, please," You said grinding your hips on nothing, your cunt begging for friction.

"Such a needy girl," He said pulling himself onto his knees. "Turn over, now," He demanded.

You quickly turned yourself onto your stomach, Neteyam pulling your ass up pushing your face against the ground.

"You gonna be a good girl?" He asked groping your ass once again.

"Yes, just fuck me," You begged.

You released a mewl as his hand came down on your ass, "Maybe if your asked nicely?"

"Please Neteyam fuck me," You begged.

He slid into you, bottoming out, before quicken his pass pulling your hips back to meet his thrust into you. He did not hold back pushing in and out of you harshly, tears brimming your eyes as you moaned his name.

You were both getting close you could both feel it. "Cum in me please, Nete," you begged, you wanted to feel him inside you.

You were on the verge of cumming feeling a knot in your stomach that was on the edge of bursting.

As soon as you felt him twitch inside you, you cam, juicing flowing down your legs. A mix of both of you dripping from your cunt as he pulled out of you, laying beside you. He pulled you onto his chest.

"Think this is mine now," He spoke softly, pulling the ring off your finger.

"Nete," You spoke, "My father."

"Uh-uh, I earned this," He winked at you. He took the necklace around his neck off threading the ring onto it. He was going to wear it around ensure every knew you were his.

"Your mine now," He spoke pulling your chin towards him. He placed a kiss to your lips, "Understand?"

You nodded. "Words y/n," He spoke again the grip on your chin tightening slightly.

"Yes, Nete, all yours."

@lamentingwclf continued from x

That stupid yellow piece of paper plagued her thoughts from the moment James pulled it out of his pocket. It plagued everyone they knew. His sisters were terrified, but tried their best to keep a brave face for their brother and mother- who was sick with fear and grief already was distraught and filled with tears only a mother could weep. Steve- well she wasn't quite sure how Steve was feeling other than a failure- that he should be with him.... which Gwen could nearly deck him for, but it was his feelings, nonetheless.

And as for her...all she could do now was pray for this war to end- and think of escape routes for the new soldier.

The week flew by and before everyone knew it, James would be sent off for basic training in the morning. 7am sharp. His sisters wanted to make this night special and begged him to go dancing- which of course he agreed to, even if it wasn't what he wanted.

Even more than that he'd been hesitant around her, and not just after the card came. No, this had been going on for a few months now. Nothing rude or blatant to the naked eye, but she knew him, she knew their relationship, and something was just off. He'd been avoiding her presence solely the whole night. Any time his sisters would be off dancing and Steve finding some quiet in the back, Bucky would suddenly need a drink and excuse himself. Finally, she stood, her hand outstretched to him, asking him to accompany her to the dance floor- a large grin coming to her red painted lips as he guides her out.

As the band slows their song, Gwen can't help but feel her chest tighten with disappointment, figuring he'd dismiss the dance, but instead, he pulls her to him. Not close like Harry would, or like he had before, but enough, and once more it causes her to smile. Her hand holds onto his as they begin to sway, her other softly resting on the back of his neck and she's about to speak before he asks his question- one that surprisingly brings the smallest bit of discouragement.

"Try my mother," Gwen replies with a small laugh. "Daddy's excited, but my mother, she's been dreaming of this moment ever since I was a little girl. But despite her pleading, I haven't even tried on any dresses yet. We have a few things planned out. What we'd like as the venue, the church, who will stand with us- just little things like that but um...it is a little difficult planning the wedding through letters."

Brown eyes look up to find his, resisting the urge to squeeze his hand. "I'm happy Steve came with us. I know he wasn't feeling well earlier this week, but I am glad he is trying." She laughs, a true and genuine laugh. "I will have to give him some lessons however. He stepped on my toes a few times and I'm pretty sure even though he only weighs ninety some pounds, June's toes will be black and blue in the morning."

This time she gives in and gives his hand a light squeeze. ".... Bucky, are you doing alright?" She feels the worry creeping onto her features, and she doesn't want that. He has enough to worry about without feeling the need to take care of her. So, she lightens it- as quickly as she can. "Because even though I'm a girl, I can still do some damage. We could break your ankle- oh! or your knee. You'd get out of service, and you'd get to walk like a pirate. Or maybe we should try for a rib. If we do any damage to your legs, it could affect your dancing abilities, and the women of New York City would weep. So, what shall it be?"

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I Write Songs About You All The Time

Summary: Wren is the lead singer of a band who happens to serenade Alessia leading to a fun night between the two.

Warning: Smut 18+

Chapter 1

Wren was her family’s biggest disappointment, she was meant to go to Oxford University but refused to go. Instead she and her band, Highland Nightfall, worked hard on their music, they were selling out smaller venues after a year of hard work and their album rocketed to number 1 on the alternative charts. Wren was the lead singer and she also played guitar, it was a given that she was the most popular member of the band. Wren had long brown hair with blonde highlights, she had bright green eyes that had speckles of blue scattered and a large sleeve tattoo on her right arm that had intricate designs of geometric animals, plants and some text  scattered through. Girls at shows would throw bras on stage especially when Wren would wear their favourite outfit combination, backwards cap, tank top with an open short sleeve button up shirt, skinny jeans and converse. 

She had come back to the UK after a tour in the US, her first show was in Manchester to a sold out crowd of 10,000. “Good evening everyone. We are Highland Nightfall, it’s so lovely to be back in England we have missed home so much. We thought we’d play a few songs for you if that would be alright?” The crowd screamed loud as the first song started. In the crowd were some of the Manchester United women’s players who  had taken the night to go enjoy one of the best British acts going around. Alessia was particularly interested more in the lead singer rather than the music itself. She had studied Wren’s setlist making sure she knew the words, during the show the players videoed each other singing along. 

Wren could hear the crowd singing back to her, she glanced up and saw a gorgeous group of girls all singing along to her song. She smirked as she continued singing, in a small break Wren spoke to her stage manager about getting the blonde from the upper seating to come down so she could sing to her. Her stage manager Claire immediately headed towards the United group who were clearly having an amazing time. Alessia followed Claire down to the stage nervously, when Claire requested her to come down to the stage she was shocked but couldn’t resist. A chair was placed in the middle of the stage and Wren walked over to the side where Alessia was standing. “Hi, nice to meet you my name is Wren.” She held out the game and the blonde shook it. “Hi I am Alessia.” Wren smirked. “I know. You play for United I’m not the smartest person in the world but I know football.” Alessia blushed at the girl’s words. “So I brought you down because it seemed you knew the words to my songs, which is exactly what I need for my next little bit. I am going to have you sit in the chair and I will sing to you. Two taps on the side of my thigh if it is too much or you want to stop, you are in control okay?” Alessia just nodded. “Alrighty beautiful lets get this going.” Wren grabbed Alessia’s hand and led her out to the stage. 

“A lot of you know this next part of my show. Those edits on TikTok are phenomenal. I have with me the gorgeous Alessia Russo, if you have been living under a rock she is a striker for Manchester United.” The crowd roared at the mention of the player and the football team. “Yeah, yeah bloody Manchester United, got nothing on the mighty Arsenal.” The crowd booed and she gave them the finger with a smirk. Wren sat Alessia down and winked at her. “Now Alessia, you and I are going to have a little fun, clothes on princess don’t worry.” 

The music started and Wren stood behind Alessia, sliding her hand down the blonde’s arm as she sang in her ear. “Well, come and get it now. Come and get it now” She walked to the front of Alessia and bent over, her hand on her leg holding her up keeping eye contact with the girl. Alessia could feel her heart racing, knowing exactly where this song was leading. 

“Baby, show me what you're doing. Come and turn around.” Wren spread Alessia’s jean clad legs and dropped to her knees right in front of her. 

'Cause it's not just a figure of speech. You got me down on my knees. It's getting harder to breathe out.” Alessia’s breath caught in her throat looking at the green eyes now between her legs. She couldn’t glance up at the United girls but she knew that there would be many videos of this moment and them laughing about the situation she had found herself in. 

'Cause it's not just a figure of speech. You got me down on my knees. It's getting harder to breathe out.” Wren slid her hand up Alessia’s thigh, feeding off the girl’s reaction to her touch. Alessia held back a moan as Wren stood up and straddled the striker’s lap, her hands immediately placing themselves on the singer’s thighs. 

“We only met each other just the other day. But you already got me feeling some type of way. Now, if I could figure it out. I'd take you back to my house. So we could meddle about.” Wren smirked at Alessia who bit her lip holding Wren onto her lap. 

“We could meddle about. Whoa-oh-oh-oh. We could meddle about. No, whoa-oh-oh-oh-ooh. We could meddle about. Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh. We could meddle about.” Wren knew that there were other people around but at that moment it felt as though it was just them alone on the stage. Slowly Wren tested the waters with a slow and gentle grind on Alessia’s lap, the striker’s mouth fell open as she moved her hands to Wren’s ass. 

“Girl, just scream it out. Tell me what you're thinking. No, I wanna see you undress now. I wanna hear you confess now, oh-oh, oh, whoa.” Wren leant in so only the microphone was keeping their lips from connecting. Wren swallowed as she stared at Alessia in front of her, staring at her lips wanting so badly to know how they taste. Wren missed her next line, hearing the crowd singing the words. “You are distracting me gorgeous.” Wren said into Alessia’s ear as she turned around so her back was on Alessia’s chest. 

“We only met each other just the other day. But you already got me feeling some type of way. Now, if I could figure it out. I'd take you back to my house. So we could meddle about.” Wren grabbed Alessia’s hand and moved it from her chest, down her breast, further down her stomach to her inner thigh. Alessia gripped onto Wren’s thigh and moaned into her ear as the singer leant back further against Alessia so her chin could rest on the brunette’s shoulder. 

It was easily Wren’s favourite performance for more than one reason. Wren made sure to stay pressed against Alessia for the whole song, once she finished and the band was playing the outro she turned to the girl and smirked. “That was hot. Guess that is why they call you guys the red devils.” Wren grabbed Alessia’s hand and led her to the front of the stage. “A massive thank you to Alessia Russo for putting up with me for that song. Tag me in those TikTok edits too, wouldn’t mind reliving that one.” Wren kissed Alessia’s hand as the crowd screamed, she led the blonde off the stage.

“Thank you for that.” Alessia said with a blush painting her cheeks. “No, thank you. That was better than sex.” Wren kept a hold of Alessia’s hand and ran her thumb over her knuckle. “Come to The Ivy after, I will be there with the band and I want to have a little dance with you.” Alessia could only nod watching Wren’s green eyes. Wren took her chance to kiss Alessia’s cheek as Claire came over. “Wren can you please get back on stage, Alessia I will take you back up to the girls.” Wren groaned and nodded. “Fine. See you later gorgeous, this isn’t over yet.” 

Wren rushed off the stage at the end of the show to shower and get ready for The Ivy, and maybe to see a particular blonde who she had unfinished business with. She put on blue skinny jeans, white high top converse, and a black short sleeve button up. Once she entered the club she asked the hostess where the Manchester players were and was shown to a booth where she immediately saw a blonde in black skinny jeans and a white crop top. Wren went up behind the blond and slid her arm around her waist. “Long time no see.” Alessia turned when she heard the voice and smirked. “About time you showed up.” Alessia had already downed two drinks to give herself some liquid courage for when she saw Wren. 

Wren wasted no time in catching up to the level of buzz that Alessia had and pulled her onto the dancefloor. There were people all around them pressing them closer to each other, Wren gripped Alessia’s hips making them move in sync. Alessia wrapped her arms around Wren’s neck. “My god you are so hot.” Alessia said in her ear, making the singer smirk. “Have you ever looked at yourself?” Wren slid her hands lower onto Alessia’s ass making the girl moan. 

They were both beginning to sweat as they danced, grinding against each other unable to stop themselves needing more contact from the other. Wren gave in and pressed her lips against the blonde’s. There was nothing gentle about the kiss, it was desperate and wanting. Their tongues ran along the other, Alessia’s hands gripping onto Wren’s shirt. “Come back to my place?” Wren moaned into Alessia’s mouth and the girl just nodded. Wren grabbed her hand and led her out the back of the club not bothering to tell each of their groups that they were leaving. 

Their make out session continued in the side alley of the club where Alessia was pushed up against the wall, one leg wrapped around Wren and the singer pressing her body against the blonde. Their Uber was a few minutes away which was perfect for Wren to get more of Alessia. The blonde kissed down Wren’s neck and sucked a dark hickey onto her neck. “Fuck Alessia.” Wren gripped onto Alessia tighter, now hungrier for the girl in front of her, she felt her phone buzz as their Uber pulled up. The whole drive to the hotel Wren kissed Alesia a little calmer than what it had been, trying not to piss off the Uber driver with their fun. 

They were clumsy all the way up to Wren’s room, using every hard surface as an opportunity to press one another up against. Wren took off her shirt and shoes easily not letting her lips part from Alessia’s once they got into her room. Alessia’s shirt was removed with ease even if Wren hated having to pull from the blonde. She pushed Alessia onto the bed with a smirk and took her spot on top of her, undoing the striker’s jeans and pulling them down to reveal a pink g-string. “You expecting me or something princess?” Wren smirked and Alessia shoved her gently. “They are just comfy.” Wren took off her jeans to expose her Scooby Doo briefs and Alessia put her hand on the girl above her’s chest. “Um were you expecting me?” Wren looked down and groaned. “Fuck.” Alessia laughed and pulled her back on top of her. “Cute as.” Wren rolled her eyes and kissed the girl again. 

Their bras were the next casualties of their encounter, they were thrown somewhere in the hotel room as Wren began exploring the Italian English girl under her. Her lips kissed down her collarbones, down the valley of her breasts then across to her right nipple where she wrapped her lips around the bud. Alessia let out a loud moan and tangled her fingers into Wren’s hair, the singer slid her hand up Alessia’s inner thighs to gently rub her covered clit. Wren bit down gently and Alessia gasped and clenched her legs together. “Naughty girl.” Wren looked up at Alessia. She pulled Alessia’s g-string off and threw it across the rom, teasing the girl with her tongue along her wet pussy. “Wren please.” Alesssia begged. “Only because you asked so nicely.” Wren finally gave Alessia what she wanted, she ran her tongue along Alessia’s clit. The blonde girl threw back her head and pushed Wren further into her. Wren gently slid a finger inside Alessia, “Oh oh my god Wren!” Alessia stuttered. Wren moved her finger slowly, curling it to rub along the spot Alessia wanted it the most. Wren kept a steady pace, licking her clit and fingering her in time. Alessia could feel herself getting closer, she pushed against Wren’s mouth and fingers trying to reach her orgasm quicker, desperate for the release. Wren could feel Alessia getting wetter and grinding against her face and finger. She picked up the pace of her fingers and her tongue, Alessia couldn’t hold it in anymore, she screamed out as she came against the singer’s tongue and fingers. Wren slowed down her movements as Alessia came down from her high. 

Before she could work out what was happening Wren was on her back and Alessia was straddling her hips. “Now I get to have my turn.” Alessia kissed Wren, tasting herself on the singer’s lips. Alessia pulled at Wren’s briefs and threw them off the bed to land somewhere near her discarded g-string. Alessia began grinding against Wren as she reached back to rub the brunette’s clit slowly. Wren gripped onto Alessia’s ass watching her movements on top of her, she had never seen such an incredibly gorgeous girl before. Alessia’s finger slipped inside Wren making the girl moan loud, she spread her legs wider giving Alessia more access. Her fingers sped up as Wren gripped onto Alessia’s breasts, she moved against Alessia’s fingers quickly. Wren moaned out Alessia’s name, it was the greatest thing Alessia had ever heard in her life. Wren didn’t last long once Alessia curled her fingers and arched her back giving her the perfect view of the striker. “Alessia fuck!” Wren moaned out loud as her orgasm came in waves over her body. She wrapped her arms around Alessia and pulled her down into a bruising kiss, the blonde giggled against her mouth as they kissed. The two laid in each other’s arms, Wren rubbed along Alessia’s back tracing shapes with her fingers. 

“You are something else. I would not have expected that from someone as sweet as you.” Wren said and kissed Alessia’s head. “Guess that is what happens when a really gorgeous girl serenades me.” Alessia kissed Wren gently and cuddled more into her. “Goodnight Wren, thank you for tonight.” She said softly. “Goodnight Alessia, sweet dreams.” The two fell asleep cuddled up in each other’s arms. 

Chapter 2

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Praise houses

Praise houses were small, wooden structures used for worship by enslaved people in the American Southeast. They were also known as prayer houses. Praise houses were typically built within plantation complexes. They were often an elder enslaved individual's cabin. 

Praise houses were a part of the early history of the Black church. There is evidence of Christian practice and praise houses from before the first organized Black denominations.

In praise houses, enslaved African Americans held religious services, shared news, and settled disputes. Services were typified by singing, prayer, and the "shout," which was a song accompanied by vigorous hand-clapping and dancing. As an act of resistance, congregants would gather in circle to stomp or shout upon the wooden floors, performing what was known as the Ring Shout. 

These gatherings were not only religious but also a form of resistance and a means of preserving cultural and spiritual traditions in the face of oppression.

"The true shouť takes place on Sundays or on 'praise'-nights through the week, and either in the praise-house or some cabin in which a regular religious meeting has been held. Very likely more than half the population of the plantation is gathered together. Let it be the evening, and a light-wood fire burns red before the door to the house and on the hearth.… The benches are pushed back to the wall when the formal meeting is over, and old and young, men and women, sprucely-dressed young men, grotesquely half-clad field hands—the women generally with gay handkerchiefs twisted about their heads and with short skirts, boys with tattered shirts and men's trousers, young girls barefooted—all stand up in the middle of the floor, and when the 'sperichil' is struck up, begin first walking and by-and-by shuffling round, one after the other, in a ring. The foot is hardly taken from the floor, and the progression is mainly due to a jerking, hitching motion, which agitates the entire shouter, and soon brings out streams of perspiration. Sometimes they dance silently, sometimes as they shuffle they sing the chorus of the spiritual, and sometimes the song itself is also sung by the dancers. But more frequently a band, composed of some of the best singers and of tired shouters, stand at the side of the room to 'base' the others, singing the body of the song and clapping their hands together or on the knees. Song and dance are alike extremely energetic, and often, when the shout lasts into the middle of the night, the monotonous thud, thud of the feet prevents sleep within half a mile of the praise-house."

— New York Nation, May 30 , 1867

My, oh my—Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 7 of the Unholy series

summary: Steve lets it slip to Javier why you’re in Colombia. But when you’re on your way home from a girls’ night, you and Javier let your feelings get the best in you.

word count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: doggy, hair pulling, pussy slapping, handjob, cunnilingus from behind, creampie.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @trashcora​ 

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Though Connie followed through with her invitation to dinner, you were still a little surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still. You gladly accepted, especially when you realized it would be you, her and Sofia. You haven’t had a girls’ night in a very long time and it could be exactly what you needed.

As it turned out, getting a confession out of La Quica was a challenge. Javier tried, then Steve tried, and then you tried. When you entered the interrogation room and Quica told you he’ll talk if you go sweet on him, you had to resist the urge to vomit right then and there. Luckily for you, Carrillo stepped up, proving himself to be a rightful leader.

Now, you’re not sure what happened after Carrillo took over the interrogation process. La Quica was removed from the embassy’s premises and all you knew was that Javier and Steve were the only ones allowed to chime in. You and Sofia were asked specifically to focus on other members of Escobar’s entourage, so you didn’t overthink it. You figured it must’ve been something unorthodox that not even Noonan or Wysession would’ve agreed with.

So after all, it seemed you had some free time to spare, and girls’ night was the ideal opportunity to spend some quality time with women your age.

You had to confess, you were excited.

Thursday afternoon rolled around, and you showed up at Steve and Connie’s place with a bottle of red wine in hand and your revolver in your purse. You never left home without it, just in case. Bogota wasn’t particularly welcoming, particularly to women, and with Escobar’s people at every corner, things took a turn for the worse. Better to have a measure of safety and to not use it than the other way around.

“Hi, come in!”

Connie greets you with a tight hug, thanking you for the wine.

“We got four bottles of wine now,” she laughs, taking out the glasses from the cupboard.

“So one bottle each and one to share,” you joke.

Sofia laughs as you take a seat next to her. “Where’s Steve?”

“He wouldn’t say. All he said was that he and Javi had to meet with Horacio and… that’s about it.”

You suck in a sharp breath, controlling each one that comes in afterwards. There’s no nervousness to be felt, only residual guilt.

“Do you guys know anything about it?” Connie asks, offering you and Sofia your wine and setting down a plate with food.

“We have ideas,” Sofia says cautiously, “but nothing for sure. We were asked to stay away from this particular interrogation.”

“Oh. So it’s not… legal?”

You furrow your brows, taking the first sip of the wine and feeling it warm your extremities.

“Well… maybe not entirely,” you answer.

“Okay, then if the guys don’t want us to know, we shouldn’t wonder.”

“Agreed.”

The three of you clink the glasses together, and for the first time in weeks, you feel truly relaxed. There’s nothing to disturb you, nothing to make you fidgety or angry.

“Steve says you and Javi went to college together,” Connie initiates the inevitable conversation. “You were in the same group?”

“Yep, same class. Quite unfortunate, really.”

Sofia giggles. “You never talk about it.”

“Because not many people would understand the relationship we have.”

Connie and Sofia exchange a look, then turn back to you.

“Try us,” Connie smiles.

You breathe in and out, quickly as ripping off a band-aid. Another sip of wine slips past your lips, and you decide to open up at last.

“It’s just the way it’s always been between us,” you begin. “It’s been that way right from the beginning. I don’t know, I guess we just bring out the competitive side in each other. We pushed each other to have the higher grades, the better-looking projects, the more extracurricular classes and activities… his cocky attitude always got to me, truth be told. And I suppose mine had the same effect on him.”

“You guys are competitive with each other, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sofia says.

“Sounds like it’s a bit more than that, though,” Connie adds.

You frown. “No, it’s not.”

She shrugs, staring into your eyes with a sympathetic smile that somehow makes you feel worse.

“What do you mean?” you demand.

“Well, it seems having him around makes you want to be better, and vice versa. You bring out the best in each other.”

“But we bring out the worst in each other. I mean, at work we argue and bicker and we’re tense—“

“Usually cause where there’s tension, there’s something more.”

Sofia makes a cheeky expression towards you, one that you dismiss.

“There’s nothing more,” you almost laugh. “I—we dislike each other, we just want to outdo and annoy each other.”

“But… come on,” Sofia jumps in, “Javier’s a very good looking guy. Surely you noticed that.”

Your frown deepens and you purse your lips together.

“He’s a rat,” you say.

Both women giggle, which makes you more confused and upset.

“Javi’s very good looking,” Connie fortifies.

“You do remember Steve, right? Your husband?”

Connie moves a little closer to you, putting her arm around you. She sighs with the same radiant smile on her face, making you fear that she was about to spew something meaningful and deep, and you already know it won’t be your cup of tea.

“Look, you know your own feelings and this relationship between the two of you better than us, better than anyone else,” she says. “We’re just teasing here. But would it be so bad to… you know… like the man?”

“Didn’t you hear me before? The man’s a rat! He’s slept with I don’t know how many women before, he’s annoying and stubborn, hot-headed, cocky, grumpy and miserable… what?”

Both of them stare at you, willing themselves not to break into wide smiles.

“You do like him, don’t you?” Sofia smirks, practically radiating from how jittery she is.

“Am I speaking some sort of long-lost language to you? The man is obnoxious! He’s—he makes me so mad, so—“

Words flee from your mind, right under the girls’ eyes. This time, though, they don’t tantalize you. Even they can notice how you’re struggling with some inner emotions.

You don’t say the word that comes to your mind next. It feels immoral, forbidden.

Connie calls you out gently, gaining your attention again.

“You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to,” she reassures you.

You bear nothing but gratitude towards her in this moment for sparing you the trouble of having to explain the true nature of your dynamic with Javier, especially as of late. You doubt you’d be judged, but why transfer your headache to them?

This is your mess, nobody else’s.

“Thank you,” you coo, visibly distraught.

“But can we ask… how was Javier in college though?”

To that you chuckle, thankful for the second glass of wine that Connie pours you. You take a deep breath, letting all the memories from 15 years ago resurface.

“He was… not that much different than how he is now,” you say, oddly fond of that time in your life. “A little less grumpy, maybe, but pretty much the same.”

“I just can’t picture younger Javi, life of the party, studying…”

“He wasn’t really life of the party. He showed up, had some drinks, hung out in a corner with his two friends and call it a night. I did the same, though.”

“Were you really that competitive with each other?”

“Oh yes. Whatever grade I had, he had to have the better one. Whatever grade he had, I had to have the better one. I can’t tell you how it started, it just… did.”

“You mean you were instantly enemies, right from the start? There was no… friendship, no cordiality?”

It’s surprising that you hesitate; you thought of your college memories as intact, purely objective. Yet now, looking back on the first weeks into the college start, you realize that you and Javier were quite friendly with each other. The competition hadn’t began back then.

So where did it change so radically?

“Huh,” you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “You know, you might have a point. We weren’t like this from the beginning.”

“You weren’t?” Sofia asks.

On your side, Connie sips silently from the wine, listening to your story with utmost interest.

“No,” you confirm, utterly astounded. “No, we—we were colleagues, polite and… even friendly with each other.”

“What happened then?”

“We got out first assignment, and we ended up in different teams. I’m naturally competitive and want to do a great job with everything that I do, and I jokingly told him, ‘watch out, I’ll have the better assignment’. He replied in the same joking manner and… after that, it became a regular thing.”

“But going from friends to enemies still seems far-fetched,” Connie intervenes. “It doesn’t seem like it’s just some good old rivalry. Seems like something more personal happened in between you two that set you off.”

You think hard and long about that particular time period, but there’s nothing that stands out. You just embrace it as the way you are. After all, why should you think any different? Neither you nor Javier have ever given an indication that there was something more to be felt.

Except for now.

“Nothing comes to mind,” you say after a while. “I guess underneath those pleasantries we just didn’t like each other after all.”

Then how the hell do I crave him on top of me again?

Wouldn’t mind him under me either…

Shut up. This is insane. It’s over.

“It seems this competition is helping you in the workplace though,” Sofia says. “You’re both very hardworking.”

“That’s because we want to prove each other wrong,” you laugh. “But it does help in our search for Escobar.”

“How is that going, by the way? Aside the guys doing sketchy things.”

Following a half-hour of updating Connie on the case, you and Sofia alter the subject to learn how Connie met Steve. You could have used some encouragement given how things were going in your lives.

“Sooo… you don’t hate her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You sure pull on one hell of a show.”

Javier rolls his eyes, putting out his cigarette and finishing his beer. He agreed to meet with Steve at the bar to blow off some steam after the scene they had partaken in, and this topic of conversation isn’t entirely his taste.

“Why are we even talking about her?” he asks with as much displeasure as possible.

“Cause I’m your only friend and I’m curious.”

Javier stares unimpressed at him. “I’d much rather talk about this evening with Carrillo than her.”

“I don’t think you want to revisit what we just saw.”

Javier concurs with him, but he doesn't say it out loud. He wishes that drinking would erase his recent thoughts of that evening, but he agreed to have only one beer because he had to drive them both home.

“All I’m saying is, you can dial back on the harsh attitude,” Steve tells his friend. “We get it, you’re competitive, but it’s getting old after so many weeks.”

“It’s not something you can just turn on and off, Murphy. It’s the way we are with each other. That’s—not gonna change.”

But Steve notices his partner’s troubled figure, his momentary hesitation, and he knows he shouldn’t push the matter. However, what kind of friend would he be if he’d just drop things?

“Why are you so mad then? We’re just talkin’ about her.”

Javier grits his teeth, unable to look at Steve.

“Because the same way I don’t wanna talk about Escobar in my so-called free time, the same way I don’t wanna talk about her.”

“You did not just put those two in the same sentence.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s bullshit! Give me a fucking break. You can’t say she’s as bad as Escobar.”

“You know what I fucking mean!”

Steve is the one to roll his eyes this time, furious with his partner’s stubbornness. It’s not uncommon or new, but sometimes he cannot believe Javier’s audacity.

“If you had someone at work you couldn’t stand, I bet you wouldn’t wanna talk about them all day either,” Javier persists.

“You just said you don’t hate her.”

“For fuck’s sake—I just said I don’t!”

“Then why—“

“Because she’s infuriating! She’s so annoying and stubborn, hot-headed, cocky, know-it-all… not a day goes by that she doesn’t make my blood boil, even fifteen years later.”

Javier can barely breathe; he sees red in front of him, and in the center, he sees you, as distracting and vicious as always.

“Whoa,” Steve coos. “That’s… a lot.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if she came all the way here to spite me.”

“She didn’t. But the assumption is as stupid as you.”

Javier frowns. “Why do you sound so sure?”

It’s only then that Steve gulps, painfully aware of the beans he’s about to spill. You didn’t specify whether you wanted your confession to remain a secret, but Steve still doesn’t think he should spread the word around.

“Just a hunch,” he says.

“Did she—tell you something?”

“Huh, look who gives a shit!”

Javier makes a move as if to stand up, and Steve figures this is his one chance to give his friend a little perspective over the situation.

“She’s not here for you,” he says, grabbing Javier’s arm. “I know you’re the ladies’ favorite, but don’t flatter yourself so much.”

“Why is she here then? What does she want from me now?”

If there’s something that tips Steve about that behavior, is the desperation in Javier’s voice. He’s never heard him like that in the year and a half they’ve worked together, and he’s starting to believe that whatever Javier claims, the reality is far from it.

“She’s looking for her dad’s killer,” he blurts out. “Apparently her dad was killed on a trip to Bogota over a year ago and the autopsy revealed that he had been shot several times. She thinks it might be one of Escobar’s men.”

Javier is stunned. He says nothing as he rummages the words. Of course you wouldn’t be there for him. All he is… is a rival. A good sport. Nothing more.

Maybe a good fuck, but definitely nothing more.

It’s appalling that he feels disappointed in a sense. More so because it messes with his head and makes it spin in tormenting ways.

“I see,” he replies after a while, throat dry.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. You look a little disappointed.”

When did I get so fucking obvious? I got some shit to re-evaluate.

“I’m sorry to hear about her father. But does she really think one of Escobar’s men killed him?”

“That’s her hunch. The only proof is the autopsy report, and that’s not much to go by. A lot of people use different kinds of bullets.”

“It’s practically impossible to figure out who used which bullets.”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls in between them; the only ice breaker is Steve ordering his fifth beer, and Javier’s loud sigh. He feels a little bad for giving you a hard time when you were probably still mourning the death of your father.

“Do you know her dad’s name?” he asks, a thought crossing his mind.

“Uh… I think she said Michael. Why?”

“If he did die by the hands of one of the narcos, he should be in embassy’s archive. We keep records of all the identified bodies, the dad’s should be there if he was just shot. And if he was a civilian, the case was investigated, which means—“

“The killer might be there, in black and white.”

Steve’s face lights up, suddenly impressed by Javier’s demeanor.

“You do care about her, man,” he taps his shoulder. “It’s very nice of you to do that.”

“I didn’t do anything, I just had an idea. Relax.”

“Why are you against being a decent human being?”

Javier sighs, lighting another cigarette. He remains silent as Steve drinks from his beer, unwilling to look at him anymore.

At least he doesn’t have to explain his mixed feelings about you anymore. And at the very least, he doesn’t have to face you tonight.

Girls’ night came to its inevitable end once Steve entered in the apartment, tipsy and lovingly fondling Connie. You hid your chuckle, relieved to see that, in Sofia’s drunken state, she would at least crash over there instead of traveling across town in a questionable cab. So you bid them all goodnight, insisting that you were fine to go home. After all, you lived two blocks away.

“Take care, sweetie,” Connie tells you as you walk out, waving at the party left behind.

You search in your purse, making sure all your belongings remain in the same place. Not a moment later, your heart skips a beat when you notice the only other silhouette in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice low and defenseless.

“I live here.”

You take a proper look, realizing that the apartment he’s about to enter is the one right in front of Steve and Connie’s, and you exhale.

“Of course you do. What are the odds?”

“The better question is, what are you doing here?”

“If you must know, Connie invited me and Sofia over for some wine and conversation.”

“Great, so that means I’ll get to see your face in my spare time too.”

“Not everything is about you, Peña.”

He doesn’t fight you back this round; in fact, he seems distressed, somewhat sickly, and if you wouldn’t be such a good person at your core, you would’ve even ask the following question.

“What’s going on with you?”

Taken aback, it takes Javier a while to reply. “Why?”

“You look kinda sick.”

“I guess I am. Sick and tired of having to talk about you, cause that’s what I spent most of this evening doing.”

You chuckle, suddenly angering him. He remains still though, even as you approach him all benevolent.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, irritated.

“I spent my evening talking about you, too.”

“No wonder I got a headache.”

Now, in the rosy light of the hallway, you see him conceal a smile, but you don’t point fingers. You do the same. Something feels slightly different between you two. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re seeing each other outside of the office for the second time, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re feeling relaxed as opposed to constantly infuriated.

“It’s so… wild,” Javier says out of the blue, gaining your attention. “You were in my head, the whole time I had to explain shit to Murphy, but now you’re… here.”

You frown, unsure if you get where he’s headed with all that.

“Are you okay, Peña?”

He lets out a mocking laughter, the kind that makes you blind with rage, except...

Except now, in this bizarre moment, it doesn’t.

“Fuck you calling me Peña like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it,” he continues to laugh, hands on his hips as he stares at you in a mixture of disbelief and desire.

“Please.”

It’s him who moves closer to you, licking his lips and staring at you, pupils blown out of proportion.

“Please what?” he asks in the sultriest voice you’ve heard coming out of him.

“You think calling you that turns me on?” you try to laugh about it.

“What does, then?”

“You’re a filthy man.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

You swallow harshly, like there’s gravel in your throat. It’s all the more debilitating to realize that you cannot hide from him. The man reads you like the back of his hand.

“You don’t get to ask these things, Peña,” you make sure to accentuate his name. “Not when you got hard in the middle of the conference staring at me.”

“Oh yeah?”

You’re skipping rope with the line between cordiality and hatred, and your pulse races like it did that night at the bar. There’s something about his impertinence that, as much as you’d hate to admit it, gets you hot like nothing else could.

“Then you don’t get to take the high road and act like you’re better when you had to bite down on your lip to not scream my name.”

Oh, he’s filthy, alright. Filthy and vengeful, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“It didn’t—“

“Mean anything? Yeah, I keep telling myself that bullshit.”

You can’t deny that you’re taken aback by his boldness; the soft, yet determined look in his eyes you can only categorize as an absolute weakness. It’s bizarre and confusing how he manages to stir this vile concoction of emotions from you, while being the one vice you cannot seem to shake off.

“Is it? Is it bullshit?” you ask, fear shaking you a little.

He shrugs, eyeing you up and down in the most carnal, selfish way you’ve ever seen in anyone.

“Doesn’t feel that way anymore,” he replies.

You are used to seeing him uptight and cocky and mean, the way he was a few minutes ago. This alter ego of his is making you dizzy, and you don’t want it. Not now, not when there’s the sting of wine in your veins, and the anger of your same old rivalry consuming you.

“Do me a favor, enemy to enemy,” you coo, your face in a much too close proximity to his face.

“What do you need?”

The way he asks that makes you think he’s got the same thought on his mind, and you don’t wanna waste time thinking whether you’re right or wrong.

You want the same forbidden taste on your lips, the same decadent and dirty sensation that made your body tremble, and that same rush of adrenaline only this relationship has to offer.

“Be the same asshole you always are,” you say, tugging at his collar. “You get a free pass for that tonight.”

He raises his eyebrows, his chocolate eyes now wide and resembling a lost puppy.

God, you’d loathe everything about this if you wouldn’t be so enticed by his whole being right now.

“You want me to be the same old Javier Peña you dislike,” he concludes.

“Yes. Don’t talk. Don’t say anything. Just—“

You voice dies in the silence, and Javier obeys for what feels like a premiere since you’ve known each other, and succumbs to your wish. He pushes everything else out of his mind, including the fact he’s learned about you tonight, and chooses another wrong doing.

One that’s so saccharine he could die on the spot. But he’d die a happy man.

Happy. The notion didn’t even cross his mind till just now. He hadn’t felt happiness in a very long time, if ever. And what you and he are doing is wrong and inexcusable, but it’s undeniably the most fulfilled he’s felt in years.

He forgoes any other concern, anything else that doesn’t revolve around you, at least for the time being. When you press your mouth on his, he knows the dance; it’s fast-paced and eager, and Javier wants nothing else but that.

You both stumble as you enter his apartment, a foreign territory for you that you don’t pay much attention to. You figure you’d end up on the couch again, but instead, you’re surprised when you’re being pushed into a secluded room, presumably his bedroom.

It’s the most intimate setting you can think of, particularly when you fall on top of the comfy mattress and start undressing him in a haste. This is where he sleeps, where he’s probably fucked dozens of other girls, but you quickly recall you are just another number on the list in order to not turn this into anything other than its raw meaning.

The clothes are being disposed of fairly fast; neither talks while you gaze at the naked body before you, as you had requested, so you simply enjoy the view. The dim light in the room allows you to see his bronze skin above you, the happy trail that leads to what you need from him the most, and the erection that forms right under your very eyes.

He kisses you again and again, and then he leaves a wet trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck, nestling his head in between your breasts as you part your legs, allowing him sufficient space to grind. You let out a small gasp when you feel his hand reaching in between your legs to find your clit, rubbing as gently as he can while his mouth remains on yours.

You feel the urge to return the favor and reach to give his cock a few strokes. Javier grunts in the kiss, pulling away from you to stare in disbelief.

“Don’t,” is all he tells you.

“Why?”

He loses the string of thought the more he stares at you. He’s unable to tell you that he could come on the spot if you touch him one more time, or that any touch of yours brings him to his knees in an instant.

“Can’t handle it?” you tease, and keep jerking him off slowly.

He grunts, eyes fluttered shut. It’s not the first time he feels someone’s warm hand curled around his shaft, but it’s the first time he feels like he’s going to explode from a singular touch. You stroke him gently, way too slow for his personal taste, and when your thumb grazes the tip, wiping the bit of precum leaking already from it, Javier loses it completely: he moans so loud you might think something’s the matter.

But you do notice the expression on his face and stop, fearing for a moment. Hell, you even broke your no-talking rule already because of this, so it better be worth it.

“Turn around,” he grunts at you.

When you fail to comply with his request, he kisses you harshly again. “I said, turn the fuck around,” he repeats, a slap falling over your pussy.

You quiver, shocked at the sensation, more so because the slick sound that emerges from in between your legs is lewd and embarrassing for your pride, but oh so ecstatic.

Javier repeats the motion three more times, more rapidly, and you finally change your position, ass full on display for him. In the heat of the moment, you realize that it might actually be better this way. This way, you don’t see him and he doesn’t see you. You don’t have to acknowledge who the person that’s bringing you immense pleasure is.

Your gasp is broken in tiny several ones when you feel his warm mouth lapping at your folds. His large hands are on your ass, holding you in place, and his tongue does its devilish dance on your core. You almost lose balance from the intense pleasure. Jesus Christ, how the hell does it feel you’ve been deprived of any touch for months instead of a few days?

One of your hands reaches to hold onto the headboard, the other barely managing to support your weight as waves of pleasure hit you from behind. Your whole body is afire, your belly set to detonate at any given moment. Javier’s mouth, as frustrating as it may be on a daily basis, is working magic against your soaked folds right now. You don’t contain your moans, even though you hate giving him the satisfaction of knowing that it’s him who awakens those feelings and sounds out of you.

Before you know it, another sound escapes from your mouth; fleeting, whispered with disdain, and you can only pray he didn’t hear it.

Javier.

It’s his name that stains your lips now as you approach your climax. His first name that you haven’t addressed him by in years that is the center of your pleasure.

Suddenly, the burning ache in your belly vanishes as quickly as it came. You turn your head and see him above you, face darkened with lust and chest heaving with irregular breaths. You see his hand drop to his cock, and you moisten your lips in anticipation. You stare back at the wall, waiting, feeling painfully empty and lonely.

But not for long.

Javier finally slips inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He leans into you more, burying himself to the hilt as he presses a kiss on your back.

“You don’t want me to be good?” he asks.

It’s hard to process his words, let alone come up with your own. It’s not easier when Javier grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you backwards.

“Talk,” he orders.

“No,” you manage to get out. “No, I don’t—want you to be good. If you can even be that.”

You can barely breathe, anxiously waiting for him to move. Your words trigger him as he gives his first thrust, deep and hard, causing you to choke on air.

“This is all you need, isn’t it?” he grunts, starting to rut his hips against yours, hand pulling your hair tighter. “Someone to—fuck you rough and fast, hm?”

“Yes—“

“A cock filling you up—and nothing sweet.”

You can only moan your approval when he starts railing you, rough and fast, just as he had said; the grip he has over your hair tightens even more, and your ass bounces with each thrust he gives you. The feeling of his cock pushing through your warm, slick walls is simply maddening, and he doubts he’ll last for too long. Ideally, he’d fuck you through the night, till you can’t walk or talk, but this will have to do in the meantime.

Another means to an end.

The most intoxicating means to an end he’d ever known.

His grunts fill the room when he feels his climax fast approaching. His whole body burns with your presence, his cock twitches and he instinctively buries himself inside you as far as he can. The rush he gets then is simply incapacitating: he feels his cum pulse in strong jets, moving from his balls to his cock, running along the length and then release his load into you. He freezes as he lets himself go completely, letting go of your hair and grabbing your torso instead, bringing you to his chest and squeezing your breasts with his palms. His thrusts get sloppier, further apart, and he bites your earlobe, waiting to settle down.

It takes you a while to climb down from your own high, and it’s baffling to grasp the fact that you don’t want this moment to end. Javier’s hold over your body is powerful, yet strangely tender, and you feel safe and happy.

You actually feel happy having had Javier fuck you senseless.

“So this is how to shut you up,” he coos right in your ear.

You smirk. “I could’ve used my mouth in another way that might’ve agreed with you more.”

He’s the one that chuckles now, moving his hand to curl carefully around your neck. He craves to see your face right now, to see how beautifully fucked out you look because of him, but he resists the urge. He sits there, cock softening inside of you and his warm seed spilled shamelessly, and simmers with his own miserable thoughts.

“You’re such a filthy woman,” he tells you.

The last memory of that evening, even later when you walk out of his apartment, struggling to keep your compose and ignore the feeling of his seed still on your core, is you smiling fondly at him.

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hello! So, Joe mentioned in an interview that he bought a guitar and practiced a lot for his scene. Could you write about him going to buy a guitar and asking the reader who works at the store about 80's rock for his investigation? Something fluffy and flirty. thank you ✨💕

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

Warnings: None

a/n: ngl I had to do some research for this one but I absolutely LOVED writing it and loved the idea (I probably got a bit too carried away in the first part). Also, If anyone who knows their shit about guitars reads this, I'm sorry, I tried, I swear.

Btw funny story I was writing this on the bus and I completely forgot I had to get off and I arrived late at the cinema.

Part 2

A GOOD DEED

Today had been slow, it was 4 o clock and only two customers had come into the shop since you opened this morning, and only one of them actually bought something. It was a miracle this place was still standing and hadn't gone bankrupt yet. The shop wasn't yours but it felt like it. You were basically the only employee. There was another one, this very unusual,overly-enthusiastic, and jittery 19-year-old who had just finished high school and perpetually arrived late or not arrived at all, but he would only do a few shifts because he claimed to be a "free soul" and that working here "killed his vibe", so, practically, it was just you. Your boss, Luke, was a 56-year-old man who had inherited the shop from his father and he was probably the coolest person you knew. he knew everything about music and he could play every single instrument in the shop. He once told you that there was no point in telling people to buy an instrument if you didn't know what it felt like to play it. At first, you thought he was just being dramatic, but as time went by you started realizing how right he was, and noticed how it was much easier for you to sell guitars than anything else.  You had been working here for 1 year and a half and in that year and a half, he had become your hero. I mean, the man had a rock band, him, a 56-year-old, had a band with other 50-something-year-olds, and the best part was that they sounded amazing. You loved when he came into the shop because after you would beg him desperately, bugging him all day, he would always play something for you and you just adored watching his expert fingers dance on the guitar's strings effortlessly while you lost yourself in melody. Unfortunately, he wasn't coming today and you were really starting to lose your mind because of how bored you were. You looked outside the windows to see if anyone was coming, but the street was deserted except for two women walking by on the opposite sidewalk who seemed to be having a really fun conversation. Lucky them, you thought. You grumbled and looked around you. all the electric guitars were perfectly placed on your right, some on the wall and some on their designated supports on the ground. As you scanned through them, mesmerized by how cool they all looked, one caught your eye. Fuck, You had forgotten about her. How was that possible? Luke had bought her a month ago and the moment you saw her you fell in love. She was a Gibson Les Paul, but not the usual kind, he had customized her, so she was covered in silver glitters with blue flames coming down from the top. You had never seen something so sexy in your life. You sprang to your feet and dashed across the counter. "you are a real beauty" you whispered to the guitar as you cautiously took her from the wall. You weren't allowed to do this, if your boss were to enter now you would probably get fired. The guitar costed more than all of your belongings put together, but you couldn't resist, you just couldn't. She was too beautiful and you needed to know how she sounded in your hands. You peeped at the windows one more time to make sure Luke hadn't magically appeared to beat your ass and was relieved when you didn't see a single soul.  the shop had a little aisle where people could try playing an electric guitar put there on purpose and you made your way there. you attentively placed the Les Paul on the ground, unplugged the guitar from the amplifier, and plugged in instead the one you had just taken. You sat on the stool and took a deep breath. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest "calm down Y/N, it's just a guitar" you murmured to yourself. You exhaled deeply "Ok babe, what shall we play?" you asked the inanimate object "Oh, who am I kidding" you laughed at yourself as you positioned your fingers on the strings. There was only one song you wanted to play. You took one last deep breath before you started playing Sweet child O' Mine, your go-to song since forever. You learned to play it at 15, your dad always used to make you listen to it in his car and after he passed away you promised yourself you would learn it for him, as a tribute, and to this day, even if it's one very difficult piece to play is the one you know how to do better. You closed your eyes and started swinging your head to the melody, you had played this song millions of times before, but this guitar somehow made it sound even better. You started humming to the beat as you felt the deep and resonant sound's vibrations in your whole body. this was heaven, you thought as your fingers continued dancing on the strings. Your favorite part of the song was coming and you almost wanted to rush to it just to know how it sounded on that beauty, but you didn't, you continued and as the part started you bit your lower lip, shut your eyes, and smiled widely. It was like hearing angels sing, that is, of course, if angels sounded like 80's rock music. You began rocking your head to the music while rhythmically tapping your foot on the floor. "You're really good" you heard a voice in front of you. You jumped in your seat and widened your eyes. "Woh woh woh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you" The man in front of you apologized holding his hands in front of himself. You exhaled deeply relieved and, peered up at the person who was talking to you. he was a tall young man, wearing jeans and a very colorful t-shirt. his wavy and brown hairs were somewhat messy, as if he had just woken up. You thought that was cute. his lips were turned into a nice and genuine smile and his big, brown, and gentle eyes were looking straight at you.  Oh shit, You realized you were basically checking him out and you widened your eyes and cleared your throat to try and salvage the situation "Oh, I'm sorry I thought you were my boss" you spat out. he gave you a reassuring smile "Oh, is he an asshole?"  You laughed softly to yourself "No, not at all actually. but I'm kinda not supposed to be playing that guitar" you said, standing up, propping the guitar on the wall, and turning to look at him. "Well don't worry, your secret is safe with me" he joked and you smiled at him gratefully. You were about to say something when he licked his lips. Any sound you wanted to produce got stuck in your throat as your brain blanked for a moment. He noticed your reaction and his lips twitched into a smirk as his eyes traveled down your body ad up again quickly. His eyes found yours again and you swallowed thickly, hoping for your brain to start working again soon.  "Uh- Wha-What do you want?" you spat out and immediately regretted it. he frowned at you and chuckled softly "is that how you treat all your customers? because then it's no wonder you don't have many" he joked waving his hands generally at the store. You smiled at him "No, you are right, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"  "with pleasure" he grinned. "Ok. Hi, my name is Y/N. what do you need help with?" you asked with your nicest tone, offering him a wide smile. "Hello Y/N, nice to meet you, you have a really beautiful name. I'm Joseph" he introduced himself "And to answer your question, I need to buy a guitar" he explained. "Well, then you are in the right place, Joseph. What kind of guitar did you have in mind?" He laughed softly "Well, see that's the thing. I haven't played guitar in a long time and... well, all I know is that I need an electric guitar" he confessed a bit shily. "Oh, that's totally fine. You know, I actually think it's really cool that you want to get back into it"  "Thanks, I'm actually doing it for a role" he explained " a role?" you asked, intrigued "Yes, well, I got cast in this show and they just told me yesterday that I'm gonna have to play the guitar in a scene, so...here I am" he finished with a contagious smile. "Cool, I am allowed to ask what show or is it like a secret?"  "I actually have no idea" he laughed "but" he bit his lip "you know what, It's only right for you to also have to keep a secret of mine" You tilted your head to the side and frowned, confused. He nodded to the guitar next to you and your lips formed an o in realization "You're right. come on, spill the beans, Joseph"  "ok, it's stranger things" "Oh" you said, a bit disappointed He chuckled "Well, that's not the reaction I was expecting" You widened your eyes, mortified "Oh, no sorry. I'm very happy for you and I have heard it's great, but I've just never watched it"  He laughed "no worries, if I have to be honest I had only watched season 1 before getting the role, so it's not like I'm a huge fan myself. But don't tell people that" He joked and you mimicked zipping your lips. "My mouth is sealed" you smiled " Now, let's talk guitars" you said intertwining your hands. He nodded "So would you say you are like a beginner or do you remember some stuff?"  He paused a moment to think "No, I think I can still play, I just need a refresher" "Ok, well in that case I recommend you to buy a Yamaha Pacifica 112V which has very high levels of playability and build quality even though she doesn't cost too much. But... if you happen to have a bigger budget then I definitely suggest this Squier Classic Vibe ‘50s Stratocaster." you said, walking towards the guitar "she's very well-made, well set-up and overall she just sounds great" You looked up at him and noticed a sly smile on his face. "She?" he asked obviously amused You felt your cheeks redden. Usually, you didn't care when people found out you liked to treat guitars like people but for some reason he intimidated you. You cleared your throat "Yes, guitars are females, Joseph. Honestly, I expected you to know that" you answered sarcastically. He chuckled"You're right, I'm sorry. I should know better" he pretended to apologize. He looked at the guitar you were pointing out to him and then at you again. "you really know a lot about guitars" he commented "Yeah, well, as surprising as it sounds I wasn't hired just for my pretty face"  "Oh, so that's just a plus," he said with a smirk. You swallowed. As much as you pretended to be confident and not at all affected by him your heart hadn't stopped racing since you saw him. "E-Exactly"  There was a moment of silence as he admired the guitars around him. "the song you were playing before, Sweet- sweet something" "Sweet child o' mine" you helped him "Yeah, that one. When was it released?" he asked, finding your eyes again. " '88" you answered " Wow, that was quick" he chortled  " Well, you asked" "Yeah, you're right. so you know a lot about 80's music, don't you?" "I'm more of a 90's gal myself, but I think I know the basics. Why?" you asked "Well, the show is set in the '80s and chances are I'm gonna have to play a song from that time, so Y'know, I should probably learn more about that decade and you seem like someone that could help me with that" "So you want like a list of famous songs" "Rock songs, yeah" "rock?" "My character is kind of a metalhead" You smiled "Sure, I would love to help " He widened his eyes and beamed "Oh, thank you so much" "Ok well, first the classics so obviously: crazy train by Ozzy Osborne, Wrathchild by the Iron Maiden, Welcome to the Jungle by Guns 'n Roses, Photograph by Def Leppard "You stopped as you noticed his face, he was staring at you, frozen "You may want to write them down"You laughed softly, bringing him back to earth. He cleared his throat "Yes, you're right, I'm sorry" he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket."Ok, I'm ready" he informed you after a few moments. "Ok, then of course Jump by Van Halen, Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue, Ace of spades by Motorhead.. and then basically everything by AC/DC and Metallica" you finished your list "Wow" he whispered, stunned  "That's all?" "Well, these are the basics but there's a whole world out there" you smiled "What's your favorite one?" he asked intrigued You bit your lip and caught his eyes dropping to your mouth  “Is that part of your research?” his eyes came back up to yours. “I was just wondering” he smirked You smiled “ well, other than Sweet Child o’ mine, I know it's basic, but I absolutely love back in black” you answered truthfully, suddenly feeling shy. “Oh well of course, who doesn’t?” “Right? It’s THE classic. It didn't even take me too long to learn” He looked at you shocked, his eyes basically out of his skull “you know how to play it?” “Well yes, I mean, I’m not exactly Angus Young, but I’m decent” He grinned widely “ oh, now I need to hear it”. You bit the inside of your right cheek nervously. This guy... “Come on, it's for research purposes” he gave you his best puppy eyes and you swore you got butterflies in your stomach. Get a grip Y/N, what are you, 13? You scolded yourself. “Ok, I’ll play you the beginning if you promise to buy a guitar after. This place could really use the money” you gave in. “Deal” he said immediately, making you smile. You walked to the stool and sat down again, carefully taking the guitar propped against the wall. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me, ok?” you threatened and he smiled genuinely “I’m sure It’s not even gonna be a passing thought” You fished your pick from your pocket and took a deep breath, shutting your eyes. You positioned your fingers on the guitar and with a decisive strum, started playing. God, you loved the beginning, so iconic and yet never boring. Your fingers were moving swiftly on the strings as you were biting your lip to concentrate better while closing your eyes. That's how you liked to play.No distractions. Just you and the music. You kept going, putting all your passion into the movements as you started rocking your head and tapping your foot on the floor following the rhythm. You had forgotten all about where you were and what you were doing until you heard a faint "wow" coming from Joseph. You opened your eyes and looked at him. He was staring at you,him mouth slacked open while his eyes kept darting between your face and your fingers. You finished playing the first part as you promised and stopped to look at him. He was immobilized, you laughed softly "Are you still here Joe?" you asked waving your hands in his direction. He shook his head as if waking from a dream, "Y-Yes, I'm sorry" he chuckled to himself "it's just that, that's gotta be the hottest thing I've ever seen" he confessed with an incredulous smile. You blushed as you felt your heart skip a beat at the compliment. "Uhh, well" you swallowed "thank you" you smiled timidly at him as he reciprocated. You peeked at each other smiling for a few moments before a car passing by brought you back to reality. You exhaled deeply "now it's your turn to keep your part of the promise" you stated getting up and placing the guitar against the wall. he licked his lips "You're right,I think I'm gonna go for the most expensive one" he decided You laughed "Are you trying to impress me?" He tilted his head to the side and smirked "Is it working?" you narrowed your eyes and smiled subtly "kinda"

"she's all yours" you spoke, handing him the guitar he had chosen. Your hands touched as he took her from you and you felt a sparkle ignite from the touch, starting from your fingers and spreading through your whole body. Holy hell. You were pretty certain he felt it too as he stopped his movement and glanced at you briefly. You swallowed thickly and took a step back "If you have any problems with her or just need some help, don't hesitate to come back" "Will I find you?" "Probably yes, as I said, this place isn't exactly not-bankrupt " you joked "Well then I'm gonna come back for sure" "I'll count on it" you said as he walked towards the door and turned to look at you one last time before walking out.

You went back behind the counter and placed your hands on it. That was intense you, thought as you huffed closing your eyes. "So I was thinking"  You jumped out of your shink and widened your eyes It was him again. What was he a ninja? "You gotta stop doing that" He laughed "You're right, I'm sorry" "That was fast” you joked “How did you manage to already break the guitar?” He smiled and bit his lip” No, that’s actually not why I’m here. She’s fine, don’t worry” he said patting the guitar. “No, see. I was thinking…since I have to learn everything about playing guitar back again I might need some help” he explained “And you look like the perfect teacher” he said looking at you hopefully. You smiled at him “And what do I get back?” “You get to hang out with me” You rolled your eyes playfully ”fine, I felt in need to do a good deed today anyway.”

i wanna cut to the feeling

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Robin drags her best friend to a Corroded Coffin show. How were they to know sparks would fly between Steve and a member of the band? (aka, the fic where Steve fixes Eddie's hair before a show and falls in love immediately)

Word Count: 3.2K.

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ continued on Ao3 (linked here)

Warnings: Language, drinking, Hairstylist!Steve, Rockstar!Eddie, nothing crazy yet but I reserve the right to get crazy later

A/N: This is inspired by a tiktok I saw of Joe Keery talking about how he put curlers in a costars hair every night for three months and got really good at it. Also I wrote all of this today so if there are mistakes please go easy on me <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve, you’re coming out with me, and nothing you say will change my mind.” 

Steve watched from the desk as Robin got ready in front of her bedroom mirror. She had called him in for hair advice, which he gladly provided, but if he’d known it was all a ploy to get him to leave the apartment, he would have been more resistant. 

“I’m just so exhausted from work this week,” he complained.

“That’s what you say every week,” Robin countered. She turned to him, her look now finished. “Please, for me?”

“That’s what you say every week,” Steve responded. It was true, Steve’s social life had gotten a  bit boring recently. Ever since he’d been promoted to manager at the salon, he was working over forty hours a week, and it was hard to imagine going out after that. But maybe, just maybe, he had enough energy tonight to actually do something. 

“Yeah, but this week is special!” she said. “Corroded Coffin is doing a free show at the bar down the street from us, and you know that’s never going to happen again, so you might as well get dressed because we’re going.” 

She was right. Corroded Coffin was this up and coming band that Robin was obsessed with. Steve had listened to their music before, and they were pretty good. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” he sighed. “But I’m not staying out all night.” Robin squealed, then ran to him to pull him into a hug. 

“Yes! Okay, be fast, I wanna get there early so we get a good spot.” Steve thought about reminding her that it probably wouldn’t be that crowded, considering they weren’t that popular of a band, but he didn’t want to dampen her spirits. 

Since he was crunched on time, he mainly focused on making sure his hair was acceptable, then swapped out his work shirt with a nicer one. Before he knew it, he was off with Robin, walking down their street. 

They didn’t live in the nicest part of town, but their apartment was affordable and had a dishwasher, so they figured as long as they stuck together they’d be alright. Steve wasn’t ever too concerned, in fact he would be quick to fight anyone who tried to break in, but Robin insisted they install extra locks on the doors anyway. It was a good system. 

“I’m surprised you like this band so much, considering they’re all men,” Steve teased. Robin rolled her eyes in fake annoyance. 

“People don’t only like bands because they’re attracted to the members, Steve.” She flipped her hair, then smiled once the bar was in sight. “Besides, if a band is entirely composed of dudes, who do you think the fans are?” Steve noticed a group of beautiful women walking into the bar, and then laughed at the realization.

“Damn. You’re diabolical, Buckley.” 

Once they got into the bar, they each bought a drink. Robin ordered a vodka cranberry, and Steve ordered a rum and coke. It was their standard when they went to bars together, even though they ordered different things when out with other people. 

It was still an hour before the show, and the bar was mainly empty - as they typically were at 6pm. Robin, eager as ever, made her way to the spot closest to the stage, dragging Steve by the hand with her. It was a small venue, but he imagined by showtime it would probably be somewhat full. They sipped their drinks and chatted, as Robin told Steve about her most annoying customers and he told her about his most entertaining clients. Once he’d finished his drink, he excused himself, saying he had to go to the bathroom - but really he went outside to smoke a cigarette.

He knew this bar pretty well, considering it was down the street from his apartment, which meant he knew that there was an alley leading to the back of the building that nobody ever went to. Steve tended to prefer privacy at this point in his life - especially when it came to hiding the fact he smoked. Robin would probably kill him if she found out. 

He lit up, enjoying the moment to himself, but it was short lived. A door a few yards down burst open.

“Fuck, man. I fucked up. I really fucked up.” Steve watched as a frazzled man paced back and forth, talking to someone on the phone. “I don’t know why, okay! I just, I thought I could just - Yes, I realize I have a personal stylist for that.”

The man looked vaguely familiar, but Steve couldn’t place from where. Then through context clues, he put it together - He was in the band. 

It’s not like he’d ever seen pictures of the guys in Corroded Coffin - Their album cover didn’t have their faces on it. The man continued to argue with the person on the phone, until he said one final biting remark, I’ll fix it, and then hung up with a groan.

“You alright there, man?” Steve asked. 

“Shit! Didn’t see you there,” he replied. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He took out his own cigarette and lit it, stressed. 

“Sounds like you’re having a hair emergency.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Steve said, defensively. “I never kid about hair emergencies.” The man continued to look at him, perplexed. Steve finished his cigarette and stomped it out on the concrete. “I’m a hairstylist. Been doing it for years now. Maybe I could help you?”

“Shit, really? Yeah, that would be great.” He looked at the cigarette in his hand and considered putting it out, despite him only having just lit it.

“Don’t waste it,” Steve insisted. “Tell me what happened first.”

“Uh, okay. Well, it’s been a minute since I’ve gotten a haircut and my bangs kinda grew out, so I tried to…”

“Ah,” Steve said, immediately understanding. “Happens all the time.” 

“How bad is it?” he asked, nervously. 

“Hard to tell since it’s so dark out. Here -” Steve took out his phone to use the flashlight, then noticed a text from Robin.

Dude, did you go full Elvis and die on the toilet or something?

He shook his head, then responded,

All good here, one of the band members needs hair help.

Steve turned the flashlight on and pointed it towards the man’s hair, and that’s when he got a decent look at him for the first time. 

He was the kind of guy that probably would be completely intimidating, had he not been an anxious mess over attempting to cut his own bangs. It was a weirdly vulnerable way to be introduced to someone, but it was a way Steve had become used to at the salon. He didn’t like seeing people upset, but he liked knowing he could fix whatever was upsetting them. 

Steve was barely taking in the bombardment of texts Robin was sending, because he was so focused on the hair - and the guy wearing the hair. 

WHAT

WHAT??

Which one??

Steve

Steve

Steven.

Please respond to me.

STEVE

“Who’s blowing up your phone, dude?” the man asked, amused. Scrolling through his texts, Steve chuckled, and figured he’d answer at least one of her questions.

“It’s just Robin,” Steve answered, vaguely. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie,” he answered. Steve replied to Robin’s text accordingly, then put his phone away. He’d seen what he needed to. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Completely fixable,” Steve responded. “Do you have scissors or should I go grab mine?”

“You mean to tell me that you don’t keep extra scissors in your pocket for situations like this?” Eddie teased.

“They’re in my other jacket,” Steve responded. Eddie laughed, but it wasn’t a joke. “I live just down the road, I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?” 

“Nah, no need,” Eddie dismissed. “I have some in the dressing room. The murder weapon, if you will.” He gestured for Steve to follow him into the building through the back door. 

Steve had never seen this part of the bar before. It wasn’t anything terribly fancy, just a small room with some mirrors where the rest of the band was hanging out. They all seemed to ignore Eddie and Steve’s arrival, focused on their own insecurities. 

Eddie fetched the scissors from a pile of his things on the table, then turned to hand them to Steve. When he saw Steve in the full light of the dressing room, something in his face shifted. 

“What?” Steve asked, confused. Eddie didn’t respond. Instead, he just shrugged, then sat down so Steve could work his magic.

“I’m really trusting you here, ya know,” Eddie said, sternly. “I don’t let anyone other than Crissy near me with scissors, usually.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m really good at my job,” Steve assured him. The fluorescent lights gave him a better idea of what he was working with, and it still wasn’t so bad. Eddie had enough hair that the pieces he’d trimmed unevenly could be easily hidden in a pinch. “I barely will have to do anything, I promise.” 

“I’m kinda weird about my hair,” Eddie admitted.

“Believe me, I understand.” Steve smirked, then used his fingers to untangle some of Eddie’s curls. 

“I know you do. The only reason I’m not freaking out right now is because your hair is cool as hell.”

“I’m sorry, this is you not freaking out?” Steve teased, measuring out the strands of Eddie’s bangs on either side of his forehead. Eddie rolled his eyes, but kept his head still. “Thanks, by the way. Good hair has always kinda been my thing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie responded, casually. The comment caused Steve to freeze.

“You know?”

“Uh, yeah. Steve Harrington, right? We went to Hawkins High together.” Steve continued to look at Eddie, puzzled. “And you obviously don’t remember me, which is unsurprising.” 

“Uh, sorry, I don’t.” Steve resumed what he was doing, expertly making his first cut. “I have to get kinda close to you for this next part.” 

“I don’t bite, Harrington,” Eddie said, absentmindedly playing with the rings on his hand. Steve chuckled, then pulled up a chair and sat in it.

Steve had worked with hundreds of clients, and boundaries were always super important when it came to this sort of thing. Hairstylists are destined to be up close and personal, so it’s part of the job to make sure the other person feels comfortable. Eddie seemed entirely unfazed by Steve’s proximity, which is why it was especially strange that Steve didn’t share that sentiment. 

Just a couple more snips, that’s all, Steve thought to himself. But in order to get the precision he wanted, he’d have to get closer. He scooched the chair forward until his knees were pressed to Eddies, then felt his stomach drop when Eddie parted his legs so Steve could move even closer.

With their legs slotted between one another, Steve had no trouble evening out the last few strands.

“Almost done,” he said, trying desperately to make his voice not sound shaky. The fact that he was so thrown off by this was incredibly unprofessional. Steve was up close to people all day every day, and yet they never made him feel quite like Eddie did. For example, he never found himself wanting to stare at a client's lips quite so much before. He made his final cut, then fluffed out the final product. “Voila.”

His gaze met Eddie’s, a moment that lingered perhaps a second too long. Steve scooted the chair backwards, exhaling. Sometimes, with clients, he found himself focusing so much, he forgot to breathe - but it was quite obvious this time around that he had been doing that for a different reason. 

Eddie swiveled in his chair to look at himself in the mirror, then broke out into a huge smile.

“Damn, you can barely tell anything happened,” he said, incredulously.

“See? Crisis averted.” Steve stood up and put his hands in his pockets, trying to seem as casual as possible despite the fact that he was losing his shit a little bit. He had to get out of there, immediately. His fingers grazed the smooth surface of his cell phone, which gave him the perfect out. He took his phone out, seeing another bunch of messages from Robin, each one more aggressive than the last. “Shit, I should get back out to my friend.”

“Yeah, and I gotta start setting up out there,” Eddie replied. “Thanks again man.” He rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder in gratitude, and it took everything in him not to jump at the physical contact. 

“Yeah, no problem. Glad I could help.” He nodded, giving a close-mouthed smile. 

“Uh, so we’re probably gonna go out after this,” Eddie said. Steve stopped himself from saying, What? We are?? Instead, allowing Eddie to continue. “So if you and your friend - uh, Robin - if you guys wanna come with, find us after the show. Least I can do is buy you a drink, right?” 

“Sounds good,” Steve responded without thinking. It did sound good, spending more time with Eddie. But he wasn’t even planning on being at this show in the first place, and now he was going to hang out with the band after? It was all completely batshit insane. Robin was going to freak. “Okay, break a leg out there, Eddie.” 

“Oh, I plan to, Steve.” 

Steve made his way back into the bar where he’d left Robin. The room had filled in quite a bit since he’d last seen it, but he could still spot his best friend from a mile away. When she saw him, she looked pissed.

“I am going to murder you, Harrington.” She punched him playfully. “Tell me everything.” 

“Uh, okay, well.” Steve wasn’t sure how much detail he wanted to give Robin about his interaction with Eddie, particularly the sexual tension he felt that absolutely could not have been reciprocated. Steve was openly out as bisexual, and even before that the closet he lived in was basically glass considering he was a hairstylist with a lesbian best friend. Still, it felt weird to tell Robin he was attracted to Eddie. Maybe it was because he knew she’d get all smug about it. 

“Come on, before the show starts!” she prodded. Steve thought she might punch him again, so he continued. 

“Eddie was freaking out because he tried to cut his own bangs, and I told him I could fix them, so I did. Not much else to tell.”

“You know I know when you’re hiding something from me, right?” It was true, Robin always saw right through Steve. 

“Oh, he um. He invited us both to go out with him and the band after the show.” Her eyes widened, bigger than Steve had ever seen them.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, are you serious? Both of us as in you and me? Robin and Steve? With Corroded Coffin?” Steve nodded. “OH MY GOD!” 

He couldn’t help but smirk at her excitement. It would have been a bit embarrassing had the house lights not gone down at that exact moment, her cheering mingling with the crowd’s. 

Then, Eddie walked out on stage, and it was at that moment Steve realized just how close to the band he and Robin would be, thanks to their early arrival and her determination to get a good spot. Steve couldn’t help but admire his work as Eddie’s hair moved with each step. It was impossible to tell there had ever been an issue in the first place. 

Steve had never seen Corroded Coffin  live before, obviously. He’d heard their music in the apartment quite a bit - enough to know the words to their most popular song, at least. He tried his best to act completely natural during the show, and not as if he was thirsting over the guitarist, but at least he wasn’t the only one. It seemed like most people in the audience shared a love for Eddie Munson. Steve heard several girls around him muttering to one another about how badly they wanted him, and Steve smirked at the knowledge that they wouldn’t be having drinks with Eddie later, while Steve would be. Eddie knew how hot he was up there, and he really leaned into it. It was maddening. Meanwhile, Robin was enjoying herself to the fullest, completely oblivious to Steve’s internal conflict. 

He knew what would fix this. Alcohol! 

He tapped Robin on the shoulder and mimed a drinking motion. She gave him a thumbs up in response, so he headed towards the bar, where he ordered a whiskey - double. He pounded it down, then asked for a beer to go, just so he had something to hold in his hand. Being at a concert or a party and having a drink in his hand always felt to Steve like having an umbrella in the rain - without one, he was miserable. 

He returned to Robin swiftly, already feeling the effects of the liquor. In his tipsy state, it was a lot easier to keep himself from overthinking. After that, he was able to enjoy the show along with everyone else around him. Eddie had been looking out past Steve and Robin the whole night, so he felt invisible in a way - like maybe, the lights were arranged so that they were hidden and Eddie couldn’t see them. From then on, he cheered like a maniac with everyone else, egging on the guitarist who was way too full of himself already, and hollering when he took his jacket off on stage. 

Steve wasn’t sure why he was so freaked out by his attraction to Eddie in the first place. It’s not like he’d never had a crush on a guy before. He chalked it up to just being weirded out by it happening while he was cutting his hair, and shrugged all the other weird vibes away. Thank God for alcohol, right?

The band's final song was Steve’s favorite - the one he knew all the words to. Robin used to use it as a rickroll of sorts, until Steve finally admitted he liked it. After that, they sang along to it in the car almost every time they rode anywhere. 

Robin started singing, and grabbed Steve’s hand to encourage him to do the same. He was tipsy and giddy with the energy from the audience, so he obliged, delirious. 

He’d grown so accustomed to his feeling of invisibility, he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t actually invisible. This became abundantly clear when Eddie’s eyes locked in on Steve, whose voice immediately cut out at the attention. Eddie continued to sing, staring down Steve like he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Then, the motherfucker smirked. 

Steve looking up at Eddie on stage like that, close enough to see the beads of sweat on his forehead, was the sweetest kind of torture. Eddie’s fingers moved along the fretboard of his guitar with ease, and when he’d flip his hair? Yes, it was dramatic, but it also was probably the hottest thing Steve had ever seen. Oh, sweet Jesus, he thought to himself. Robin is never going to let me hear the end of this.

(next chapter)

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