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stripperblvd · 2 years

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She’s All That (Eddie Munson x metalhead!reader)

Summary: Eddie’s pride of having you to himself makes him show you off at any event, but sometimes even that isn’t enough to keep away pesky groupies.

Warnings: Just a regular ol night at the bar, a little steamy cuz of the body shots but nothing huge. Oh and a groupie gets punched.

Word Count: 2.8k

You finished putting your shoes on before walking over to Eddie, who was looking frantically around his drawer. You laughed, “Looking for these, baby?” you asked, holding up a little jar that you had bought for him to store his picks in. You jiggle the object in your hand, making the little pieces of plastic clink against the glass. “My god, whatever would I do without my queen.” Eddie sighs dramatically, going over to you and wrapping his arms around you to pepper little kisses all over your face and ending it with a big one to your lips. He takes the jar from your hands, making you giggle as he kisses your nose while opening it. “Would you do me the honor of choosing one my love?” he bows, imitating a knight and dropping his head low to raise the jar at you. You reach into the jar, picking out one pick that replicates the one Eddie’s necklace carries. “This one.” you say, putting it on your palm for him to grab. He grins, placing it in his pocket before grabbing a few more haphazardly, knowing one single pick for the gig was not a good idea.

Tonight 2 bands were going to play a set before Eddie needed to go, so he and the guys stayed in the crowd enjoying the show. The crowd was rowdy this evening, drinks flying out as fast as they were drunk, the establishment soon filled with the odor of drunk people and smoke. You and Eddie laughed as you ordered shots, the bartender soon bringing them over along with some salt and limes. You eyed Eddie, stopping his hands as he reached for the shot, grabbing his wrist. “Lean over.” you smirk, his eyes lighting up with the same amount of mischief that yours held as he sat down on the stool, the group around you eying the couple as they started circling around you and another woman and her date who also had the same idea as you. You reached for the salt, on your tray, giggling as you and the woman next to you tapped the little glass shakers before turning to your respective men.

Eddie placed the small slice of lime between his teeth, leaning over so you had a clear view of his long neck. You swore you could moan, always loving the way Eddie looked with his head thrown back, his jaw and throat on full display for your eyes. You tilt the salt shaker over his throat watching a small sprinkle fall onto his slightly protruding Adam's apple. Eddie smirked, feeling your hand and body’s weight rest lightly on his knee before you disappeared under his chin, his skin feeling the seductive way you licked a thick stripe up his throat. You bring the shot to your lips before downing it and closing the gap between you and Eddie, your tongue sneaking into his mouth to suck the lime off him. The group around you erupts in cheers and clanks as they wait expectantly, knowing it’s your turn.

Eddie doesn’t let you move, instead grabbing your waist and allowing you to hop right on his lap, your legs dangling off his thigh. He grabs the salt from your hands, looking down at your shirt and letting you pull it down to expose your cleavage. The salt granules almost tickle as they hit your skin, but the feeling is quickly replaced by the feeling of Eddie’s tongue right between your tits, his hair tickling your jaw before he drinks off his own shot, groaning slightly as the liquid slithers down his throat. His lips meet yours, taking back the slice of lemon that you had taken from him just a minute ago, his fingers coming up to retrieve the tangy fruit from his mouth before he crashes his lips with yours. “Gotta go baby.” he mumbles, letting you off his lap before giving you another quick kiss, watching him as he saunters away and into the door that leads to the backstage area.

You make quick friends with the woman who had also participated in the body shots next to you, smiling as she introduced herself. “I’m Carly.” she shakes your hand, wiping the small amount of spit that had been placed on her breast with a napkin. “Y/N” you smile, reaching for some peanuts to munch on while you wait for your boyfriend to get on stage. “That's your boy or a date. Mine was just a date.” she smiles, rolling her eyes slightly as she watches him congregate with a few guys. “2 years strong, he’s about to come on with his band.” you smile, watching as Carly lightly slaps your shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows with an impressed “Oooooh”.

Speak of the devil, the crowd cheers as Corroded Coffin enters the stage, and your eyes follow your man as Jeff introduces the band, quickly beginning an original song. You can’t help but get lost in the sounds coming from the speakers, the deep bass, booming drums, melodious guitars. Metal just always had an infinitely amazing way to really get a reaction from you. As you immerse yourself in the show you let yourself drift away from the atmosphere around you. So when your newfound friend rolls her eyes, you don’t notice. Not until she groans.

“What’s wrong?” you speak into her ear. She points you at a group of women standing around the center of the room, their bodies wearing enough clothes to cover probably enough so that they don’t end up arrested tonight. You didn’t really know what was wrong at first, surely they couldn’t do much trouble, it was just a little bunch of bimbos at the bar. “God I hate her.” she says, your eyes following hers to meet a blonde-ish woman, her hair frizzy with what you can only tell is an incredibly botched perm, her eyelids are heavy with sparkling makeup, lips holding an almost obnoxious sort of ruby red. “Who is she?” you ask, knowing there has to be at least some reason why your friend despises this woman. “Her name’s Hannah, total buzz kill. I mean don’t get me wrong I got nothing against groupies, but she just tries SO hard. I went to high school with her a few years back, she’s only like this cuz she used to get bullied. One too many surgeries later and now she starts something with at least a few band guys every time she sticks her nose where it doesn't belong.”

By the end of Carly’s speech you can now see why she would detest such a woman. You had noticed her only once before, when she very obviously threw herself at a passing band a few weeks back. Only a few people separate her and you. But you can’t keep your eyes on her long enough, because suddenly the song that had been playing ends, cheers crowd the room and you can hear the absolute beast of a drum solo that Gareth is currently playing, the lone sound of wood clashing against his drums, setting the entire bar into a rupture of absolute madness. You smile, watching your friend come to a slow end to his spotlight moment, finishing his part with a loud clang, and the snap of one of his sticks, half of which flies out into some place deep backstage. You can hear the guys laughing, and while Gareth fishes for another stick at his feet Eddie takes the mic, looking over the crowd and then smoothly finding his way back to you, enlightened that by this point in the gig you’re right at the foot of the stage, with your friend beaming up at him. But you notice Eddie is looking rather uncomfortable after he looks away from you, his laugh almost fake as he looks away from the crowd, his foot tapping lightly before he locks eyes with you again, the grin returning to his feautures. He steps towards his mic stand taking a deep breath

“This last song is a cover of Metallica, it’s called Phantom Lord and I dedicate it to a very special girl tonight, who helped me learn the song.” You think your ears are gonna bleed with how loud Carly alone is, smirking and hiding your lips behind your ring clad hand as a majority of the pit looks at you, cheering, whistling and calling out a few “yeahs” as Eddie and his band prep for this cover. Your mind travels to the night where you taught Eddie how to play Phantom Lord, the initial chords of the song hitting your ears as you hear him start to shred into the beat of Gareth's drums as the tune picks up. You remember both of you standing around his room, your purple warlock plugged into the amp as you played the first few seconds of the song.

Tonight Eddie is singing, his rough voice filling your ears as your mind eases into the memory of you laughing and jumping around as you slowly incorporate your own little touches to the song. Eddie hasn’t even gotten to the first line of the song before Carly nudges you, urging you to look to your right. Your blood boils, arms suddenly stiff as a board. Now you know why, even now Eddie looks uncomfortable. Your eyes meet the so-called Hannah’s figure, her eyes trying to lock with Eddie’s as he begins singing, his eyes closing to help him get lost in the lyrics, his hands doing the work over his strings almost mindlessly. Carly can tell you’re fuming, and rightfully so. The over exaggerated “moshing” gets to you because possessiveness is what drives you to protect your relationship. Eddie is yours.

Your eyes meet Eddie’s again, his own puppy-like eyes telling you to come forward. His singing stops, the beginning of the solo starting, your eyes recognizing what he has in mind. You can feel eyes burning into you, only smirking as you notice a cloud of burnt blonde hair killing you with her eyes. But it doesn't matter, you place your hands at the foot of the stage, the solo suddenly strums into its slow paced progression, and Eddie kneels towards you. The entire crowd’s eyes are now set on the lanky guitarist.

His lips meet yours, tongues swiftly interlocking as he starts strumming the repetitive slowness of this part of the solo. His lips make you drunk, the same chord progression fill in your ears as the crowd absolutely loses their fucking minds. It’s quite the show, the guitarist making out with his girlfriend while playing an almost romantic part of such a badass song. But you quickly pull away, knowing that after the 30 second interlude of soft tunes, the solo picks up wildly. Your throat is almost sore as you yell, jumping in with the crowd and starting to lose your cool with the song. Carly jumps in with you, Eddie’s voice picks up as you and your friend hold hands, feet stomping to Corroded Coffin's version of Phantom Lord. Slowing down as Eddie’s raspy yell fills the space, signifying the end of the song as he and Gareth simultaneously end the song, you and your friend start to calm down.

It happens fast, a small bump of the shoulder mid hop makes Carly lose her balance on her spiky heels, and in your haste to straighten her out, you catch a shrill yell and cold liquid splashing at your feet.

“What the FUCK.” you squint, shoulders meeting your ears. You turn, the same woman from before is looking at you like a rabid bitch, hands raised and her right heel glistening with what smells like a shot of tequila. The band doesn’t leave, the growing circle in the mosh pit catching their eyes. Eddie spots you, front and center. “Are you fucking stupid. You just spilled my drink.” the tone of annoyingly angry yells start your blood up. Everyone’s looking, you have to chase your coolness unless you want to make a scene. “Jeez Hannah, it’s a fucking shot, just get whatever guy youre letting hit tonight to buy you a new one.” You try to stifle your laughter, Carly’s voice speaks from behind you as small laughs fill the room. “Who the fuck do you think you are laughing at me bitch.” You feel a shove at your shoulder, “ooh’s filling the bar as you suck on your teeth. You don’t know it, but Eddie had hopped off the stage, trying to get closer to you, his own heart speeding up as he watched the foreign hand land on your shoulder.

“Dont. Fucking. Touch me.” you spit, stepping right into the groupie’s face, feeling your temper hit its limit. This chick was already on your bad list for trying to catch Eddie’s attention, and if she kept going you were truly going to go ape shit. “Babe, calm down.” Eddie speaks into your ear. Eddie can only do so much, knowing how physical you get once you’re thrown off the edge. In its own way, he’s protecting the woman in front of you. But he can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, especially not when that someone starts laughing in your face. “Yeah bitch, calm down or you’re leaving with a busted face and no boyfriend.”

She can’t even wink at Eddie before fists are flying her way. Eddie knew he should’ve held on to you instead of just placing a flimsy hold on you. Your body slips easily from his grasp as you lunge at the girl, toppling her over and wasting no time in stradling her. Ruckus breaks out, as her friends try to free their minion from your grasp, Eddie’s arm wrapping around your waist. In the back of your mind you groan, knowing that once you calmed down you’d regret everything. Anger was your own special weakness, something that you never learned how to fully control. Unfortunately for you this is how you ended up in situations like the one your boyfriend was currently trying to rid you from. Eyes wide, first mercilessly pounding on Hannah’s face, blood seeping from her mouth and nose.

“Calm down! You got her babe you got her!” The crowd widens as Eddie and Jeff manage to pull you off the now weeping woman, her friends hurriedly tugging her along and out of the bar to the best of their ability. It takes a second for your eyes to fully clear up, raging cloudiness seeping out of your eyes as Eddie holds you close to him, his heart pounding out of his chest and right against your back. Jeff stands before you, arms held out, his eyes are wide as he stares at you, trying to find his friend behind all the frustration and violence that you just exhibited. “You're good man. You got the btich, you’re good” he sighs, slowly bringing his arm down, and patting your shoulder with the other one. The bar is eerily silent, an awkwardness that’s broken by a smirking Gareth right at the center of the stage. “THAT'S how you end Corroded Coffin with a bang.” he laughs into the mic, people around you cheering and he bar filling up with little shot glasses.

Carly follows Eddie as he pushes past the crowd of shoulder and back pats, leading you to the backstage where a waitress has a damp cloth, one that she hands Eddie and smiles at you softly. You’re silent, not knowing if you want to cry, or shout, or laugh or maybe just disappear. It’s been a while since you let go like that, bat shit crazy swinging, having to be pulled off by two grown dudes. Regret started to seep its way into your heart the way you knew it would. She was defenseless against you, like a growling lion bouncing on a baby deer.

“Look at me baby.” Eddie’s pretty little doe eyes meet yours, a relaxed smile playing at his face. “It’s okay. I know you feel bad but she was testing you.” he said. Carly chimed in, “Yeah, trust me she would’ve done much worse. She thinks she’s on top of the world, it’s about time someone knocked her down a few hundred steps.” she laughs, placing the damp cloth on your hand, wiping away the small traces of crimson maroon that dot your knuckles, a few sections on the skin split.

“Ow.” you say, no emotion in your voice which almost sounds like sarcasm. “I just…Eds you know how much I hate losing my cool.” you sigh, turning to bury your face between his shoulder as you wince a bit more, the adrenaline slowly retracting and leaving you tired and exhausted. “Look at it from the bright side baby, you’re like my knight in shining armor. Plus you can’t say that solo bit wasn’t like…completely hot.” his laugh along with Carly’s draw a small smirk from your lips. “Yeah…it was, wasn’t it.”

I could NOT help myself. I was playing Phantom Lord the other day and accidentally kept playing the slow part of Kirk’s solo and it just got me thinking man. If i ever had the opportunity to do that, I WOULD.

7-12-22

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie stranger things #metalhead!reader

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geekfanficwriter · 1 year

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I’m planning on writing some Steve x Metalhead!Reader fics so if you have a request please send some in!

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #joe keery x reader #joe keery #metalhead!reader

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sweetiecutie · 2 months

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Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the possibility, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

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konigsblog · 3 months

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metalhead konig who has big ol speakers and tortures his very sensitive missus by placin her to sit on the vibrating speakers as he makes out w her:3

metalhead-könig most definitely has tinnitus, but he makes no effort to make life easier for himself, by lowering the volume of his music. if his ears aren't in pain, then it's not loud enough. you, on the other hand, are very sensitive, especially to loud noises and music. könig ushers you to sit on the speakers, so loud that they're vibrating beneath your body. you're wearing panties, a t-shirt of his as you'd just woken up. the vibration against your cunt has you whimpering, all your sounds muffled by könig's lips. he grinds into you, his clothed cock getting harder at the feeling of being pressed against your covered cunny, his large hands cupped over your ears as he grinds his hips against yours. :3

metalhead-könig is definitely into dry humping, especially when he's listening to his own playlist, covering your ears while you look up at him, overwhelmed, and desperate for the sensation of his pulsating cock stuffed inside of you. :(

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 3 months

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(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, sloppy oral, biting/marking, rough sex. bad german pickup lines)

continuing the part before: visiting his humble abode

Hanging off König’s shoulder.

There honestly isn’t a better place to be, except for maybe right under him. My fingers dig into his back, holding onto him, even though I am secure on his shoulder. He carries me up the stairs easily, I don’t even hear him panting a little harder. And the view on his ass is delicious. I want to pinch it. Or smack it.

My intrusive thoughts win, I stretch down and the palm of my hand collides with his behind, even making a little sound, while I giggle.

“Stop it.” Another spank onto my butt, his hand staying there this time. “It was my plan to show you the whole house first, and then take you to my bedroom…”, he grumbles, but amusement comes through in his voice. “But I should’ve known that you and your bratty ass are not gonna adhere to such an arrangement.” He squeezes my asscheek, his fingers lingering a bit longer, and even that sends a shiver down my spine.

“I just wanted to know if the king had a king-sized bed, I swear.”, I joke, stifling back a laugh.

“Aha.”, he drawls skeptically. “And that’s all?”

“Yep.”, I answer, knowing full well that I know and he knows, that that is in fact not all.

It’s just a few steps from the top of the stairs to the bedroom, when I hear the click of a door and then the light switch. He enters the room and I crane my neck, all nosily, trying to look around. The bedframe, sturdy dark wood, and some bedsheets is all I see before he lifts me from his shoulder again.

“Well, your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he says, the last word sounding a lot like ‘princess’. “I do indeed have a king-sized bed.”

He sets me down on the mattress, lying me down more carefully than I would have liked, to be honest. I look up – and I’m staring back at myself, strewn on the soft sheets. My mouth falls open.

“You have a mirror on your ceiling?”, I ask incredulously. It’s an unnecessary question because – well, I can see that he does have a fucking mirror on the ceiling.

“I do.” He smiles, looking up as well. “You can cover it up, if you don’t wanna watch yourself sleep, but I thought it would be fun for other horizontal activities that don’t involve any actual sleep.”

My breath halts in my throat as I think about his insinuation and unholy images flood my mind. Me riding him, only held up by his arms, while he makes me look up, his hand around my throat. His body strewn over mine, the long strands of his hair cascading down his tattooed back, his huge stature moving with his thrusts. Him sitting back on his knees, spreading my legs wide, so I can see how he’s pounding into me in the mirror above.

“What, nothing to say now, Kleine?” His deep soft voice pulls me out of my little daydream, smirking down at me. And I just shake my head. “Didn’t think I would ever see you speechless.”, he continues teasing me.

I sit back up, looking up at him, which has me craning my head back with the way he is towering over me. “I’m not, look, full sentences are coming out my mouth.”

He smirks at me. “I can see that.” He comes a bit closer still, his hand gripping my chin softly, his thumb strokes over my lower lip, pulling it down a little bit. “So, it’s not just good for mouthing off at me, huh?”

Instead of an answer, my tongue darts out, licking the pad of his thumb. My mouth closing around it, softly sucking once, releasing the digit with a pop. “No.” All the messages I sent him this morning about wanting to suck his dick flood the forefront of my mind.

His gaze darkens, while the smirk widens. For a moment, it seems like we’re suspended in time, then we move even faster. He pulls off his shirt and I do the same, also getting rid of my bra. He helps me with my pants, and when they’re finally on the floor, his hand moves to his belt, opening it, but I softly coax them away, taking over, while I scramble to sit on my legs until I am kneeling in front of him.

Opening the button, lowering the zipper. And instead of the boxershorts I expected, like the ones I saw on the photos he sent this morning – I’m greeted by his hard dick.

Damn. He isn’t wearing any underwear.

I look up at him, being met with a cocky grin.

“Allzeit bereit.”, he comments.

“What?” I can’t hide my confusion.

“’Be prepared’, the scout motto, you know.”, he explains, like that is some common knowledge.

“Uh-huh? So, you’re always prepared for a blowjob?”, I ask him, tauntingly, pulling up one eyebrow. My hands still rest at his zipper, my fingers twitching to finally touch him.

“Well, no, but after all the talking about how you would take me in your mouth this morning...”, he answers, the cockiness not faltering.

“Then why are we still talking about the scout motto, big guy?”, I ask him, a little challenge in my voice.

His reaction is a little sway forward, until the tip rests against my mouth. “Are we?”, he asks, the insinuation sending a shiver down my spine.

His piercing drags across my lower lip and my tongue darts out to lick it. The groan dropping from his throat, the low gravelly sound, makes me do it again. Teasing his tip, until his hips are rutting forward on their own and I drop my jaw, slowly trying to fit more of him into my mouth. I close my lips around his thickness, softly sucking on him.

Pulling back again. Gripping the base of his cock with my hand as I press kisses on it, softer than he probably would have liked. He’s squirming a little bit under my touches, his fingers coasting through my hair, moving it out of my face.

I look up at him meeting his eyes, continuing the teasing touches, until he pushes himself inside my hot wet mouth again.

“Look up.”, he says, pointing at the ceiling. And my eyes turn up further, my neck straining back.

The picture mirrored back to me is pornographic, to say the least.

We’re both looking up at the ceiling, my face turned up, my back and ass fully on display, my legs tucked under it, with the way I’m sitting in front of him. His hand at the back of my neck.

König’s broad chest is taking up so much space, even as he’s leaning back to get a good look at me. The happy trail leading down. My hand lying there, feeling the soft tufts of hair underneath my fingertips.

Our bodies connected with my mouth around his dick.

I suck on him, licking the underside of his shaft, while still looking up, and I can see how his eyes roll back, his pupils disappear, only the whites of his eyes shining.

I move my hand down to his base, cupping his balls, softly tugging. The choked moan from his lips only spurs me on. He grabs me by the back of my head, softly moving me to the rhythm of his hips.

“You teased me all day about using your mouth on me, so I’m really enjoying this right now.”, he whispers, pushing his dick deeper, and I drop my jaw and stick out my tongue to fit more of him.

He hits the back of my throat which has me gag around him while he’s still not nearly fitting into my mouth, not even close. The next push of his dick is even deeper, and my eyes turn up, and I feel like I’m going cross-eyed. I move up and down, as far as I can, blowing him like this. It gets sloppy, messy, spit dripping from my lips. Dropping down onto my tits and tummy.

Tears form in the corners of my eyes, a drop running over my cheek. His hand moves from the back of my head to my face, his thumb stroking over it. “So fucking pretty.”, he coos. He pulls back and I take a deep breath, the sound filling the room instead of my gagging.

But I don’t stop. I use my saliva that’s now coating part of his length to jerk him off, moving my hand down, while I let my tongue play with the piercing on his tip again. Tasting hints of salty precum, as I look up at him. Holding eyecontact while I drag my tongue over it, slowly.

“Oh fuck.”, he almost growls, and the sound sends a zap of pleasure right to my core, making me squirm against the sheets. I feel the urge to touch myself, my hand snaking down between my thighs.

He sees that and tuts, the clicks of his tongue filling the room. “So needy.”, he mutters softly, his hips rutting forward, pushing past my lips again. Fucking into my mouth, as my fingertips reach my clothed pussy, pressing onto my sensitive clit.

I moan around his dick, letting him take the lead, his fingers tangled in my hair, while I touch myself, my hips moving with my desperate strokes. Getting sloppier again.

All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me. “Fuck, not yet.”, he says, seeming a bit worked up. Crouching down and capturing my lips into a searing kiss, as he positions me against his sheets, continuing the kisses down my body.

I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, hard and heavy, glistening wet with my spit, before he kneels in front of me. His fingers hook under the fabric of my panties, pulling them off. They cling onto me, with how damp they are.

“So wet, hm? Did it turn you on to suck me off?”, he whispers, seeing the wetness glistening between my thighs, as he leans down, coasting with his lips over my pussy.

“Yes, fuck.”, I breathe, trying to squirm against his face, but he is just out of reach. He chuckles when I whine, desperate for him to finally put his mouth onto me. And he does, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, his stubble scratching over the sensitive skin.

Close, so close, but not quite where I want him.

He sucks on the soft skin, leaving little red marks, his left hand toying with my pussy. My hips move of their own volition and I can’t believe how the almost-touches make me even more turned on. “Please, I need-“, I start.

I can’t finish the sentence because his teeth sink into my soft flesh, while his fingers slip into me, the sensations almost making me lose my mind. He pushes deeper inside me, and I feel his canines press into the sensitive skin. Fuck, this is driving me crazy.

I lift my head to look at what he’s doing, and our eyes meet. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to the spot he just bit into, licking over it. His fingers still fucking me softly.

“Don’t stop.”, I plead.

The corners of his mouth turn up into a knowing smirk while he places more kisses, slowly inching in on my pussy, leaving another little hickey on my inner thigh. He pulls the digits out and puts his mouth right over it.

The slow, deliberate touches are gone. In a frenzy, he’s losing himself in my pussy, licking, sucking, nudging his nose against my clit. I move with him, dragging myself over his lips, searching for more friction, and the sounds that drop from my mouth are almost obscene.

My head drops back and I have the whole scene mirrored back to me from above. The strands of his long dark hair cascading down. His back tattoo, the black ink on his taut muscles, moving with him, as he eats me out.

How he grips my thighs, his hands digging into the supple swells. Spreading me wide for him.

He looks up at me, seeing the awe on my face, hearing the sounds I’m making, which makes him hum against me. Diving in again. His tongue licks into me, fucking me, and my back arches off the sheets, my hands clutching them. Close, so close to-

Ding-dong!

We’re interrupted by the bell.

He lifts his head, seeming a little drunk on pussy, judging by the drowsy look on his face. “Fuck, that’s the delivery.”, he stammers and the back of his hand wipes over his mouth.

“What delivery?”, I ask, confused and hazy with pleasure, propping my head up from the sheets.

“Food.”, he explains, and like on cue, my stomach grumbles.

He pulls away from me, looking around, picking up random pieces of clothing. He scrambles to put a shirt and shorts on while I can’t help but laugh because of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thats on you, Mädl, for messing with my meticulously planned evening, with your siren call.”, he grumbles, which only makes me laugh harder.

He fits his dick into his pants, the erection tenting up the front, and he grumpily pulls his shirt down further, even though that doesn’t really help either with hiding it. “Fuck it.”, he cusses and heads out the room, cursing some more in German.

I shake my head, grinning like a crazy person.

I also look for some clothes, but I’m not quite bold enough to reach for any of his shirts, putting on my own and then my panties, following him down the stairs.

“Ooh, you remembered my favourite spot!”, I say when I see the huge bag with the familiar logo on it in his hands.

He grins at me, and my god, a man has never looked that good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt and some old Adidas shorts that are almost too tight for his burly thighs. He pushes his hair to the side, pulling it out of the t-shirt, because some of it got caught in there when he hurriedly put it on. “Of course. Should I put it in the kitchen oooor…?”, he asks.

“Can we eat now? I’m actually a little hungry, I didn’t have a big lunch.”, I tell him hesitatingly. Swaying from one bare foot to the other, looking down at them. Unsure, because I mean, we were in the middle of-

But he pushes my doubts away in just a moment, putting his arm around me and pressing a tiny kiss onto the top of my head. “Sure, can’t have you go hungry, hm?” and the relief lets my shoulders drop down, even if my worries were a bit stupid to begin with.

“You want to eat at the bar?”, he suggests then, his eyebrows raised as he grins at me.

“Wha- You have a bar in this house?”, I clarify.

He nods. “Yeah, like a whole room with- Come on. I’ll just show you.” He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, as he pulls me with him, the bag full of take-away food in the other one. Way too much for two people.

When I follow him downstairs, it first dawns on me that we never really held hands before. It seems so simple, so normal – so natural, that I don’t even register it at first. I smile to myself, gripping his hand tighter, trying to keep up with his steps.

I have to say, the house is meticulously upkept, there’s yet a spot I have to see untidy or dusty. Which is… kind of amazing, especially considering that he only stays here on his leave. The same goes for his cellar that is more like another floor, where we halt in front of two doors. He gestures in the direction of the right one, while actually stepping towards the one on the left. “That’s my home gym and that’s the bar.”, he says.

“You… also… have a gym?”, I ask, a bit incredulous. Man, this house is bigger than I thought, when I first saw it from the outside.

“Yeah, I mean I train almost every day. Uh, holding up my shape doesn’t get easier with age.”, he explains, with a lopsided smile. Of course he works out. I’ve seen his body and my god. Sure, he has his little tummy – that I adore –, but his strength clearly comes from a lot of hard training. It makes sense that he also keeps this up when on leave.

“Can I take a look?”, I ask, being my nosy self.

He shrugs, but smiles. “Sure.”

For a moment, I regret asking that, because I have to let his hand go. I sigh and pop my head in the door. Nice standard equipment, not a lot of machines. A treadmill, and a lot of weights, barbells and dumbbells. It looks any other gym would, right down to the mirrors spanning the whole wall (he seems to like those); you would have never guessed it was a private one in a cellar.

The star of the show is definitely the little bar next door. I enter the room right after him, chuckling a bit to myself when I see him ducking his head to fit through doorframe – even in his own home.

A worn-out leather couch to the left. The dark grey painted wall behind it is littered with plaques like you would find in a pub.

A pool table at the right side of the room, and then the mahogany bar on the back wall right in the middle. Bottles of liquor in rows, glasses in all shapes and sizes. When he flicks the light switch behind the bar, all of it lights up, in a warm orange hue.

Another fridge, with a glass door, though it’s half empty.

Three bar stools lined up neatly in front of the bar and I take a seat on one of them, feeling the leather top against my bare ass and thighs, with how my t-shirt rides up.

He sets the take-away bag down on the counter, getting two plates from one of the lower cabinets and two forks. Then he starts unpacking, producing container after container until I think there might be more people joining us, with how much he ordered.

“Take whatever you want, I’ll eat the rest.”, he tells me, waiting for me to actually do that.

“Is uh-“, I start, but he interrupts me with a smile. “Everything’s vegetarian, Liebes.”, he nods. “I checked. Twice.”

My face lights up and I look at the containers, inspect the different dishes and put a little bit of everything on my plate. With a double portion of the little spring rolls I like so much. He waits until I’m done getting my plate together and then just dumps one of the meals onto his.

I watch him eat, as he’s leaning against the counter, shoveling huge amounts of food in his mouth, while being very meticulous and methodical about it. Eating efficiently. This man eats to sustain, not to enjoy. There are parts of him, that I think are shaped by his profession, and this seems to be one of them.

I hide the half-smile that stalks onto my face as I see him standing there behind the bar, casually wolfing down the first plate of food, then a second one. I rope him into a conversation of how he put the room together while we have dinner like this. My feet dangle above the ground as I eat spoonsful of delicious Asian take-away, very content with sitting here like this. With him.

He looks back at the wall behind him, like an idea just came to his mind, and then back at me. I pull up one of my eyebrows, still munching on a spring roll.

“You want a cocktail?”, he asks me, grinning.

“Uh, sure, you know how to make one?”, I return the question.

“Äh, ja-ah! If I wasn’t a soldier, I would’ve become a bartender, for sure.”, he jokingly states, winking at me, and I almost melt into the floor. “I can make a decent enough drink.”, he then clarifies, the spark in his eyes still a little mischievous. “So, what do you want then? A moscow mule? Or a dirty martini?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Or an orgasm?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can't help but laugh, even though I roll my eyes at him.

"Brute.”, I take a jab at him. “My favourite is actually a gin fizz.", I say, then.

"Really? I did not see that coming.", he comments.

"Why?"

"I don't know, maybe I expected something sweet tasting. Like you." His gaze darkens, while he is still grinning at me. A sudden hunger glints in his eyes while he looks at me, like he's thinking about it. How he ate me out when we got so rudely interrupted, by the delivery – even though it was delicious.

A tingle runs up my spine, just from the way he's looking at me. I suppress a shiver, because the feeling doesn't dissipate when his eyes drop away, looking around the bar.

"Hmm, I think I have a fresh lemon here somewhere.", he mutters to himself.

I prop my cheek on my arm, that’s leaning on the bar, and watch him fix me the drink.

He takes a crystal tumbler from the shelves and inspects some of the bottles, until he decides on one. I don't know the brand, but it certainly looks fancy. Ice cubes into the shaker, simple sirup and gin following shortly.

He’s almost dancing behind the bar counter, with the way he’s getting the ingredients, preparing this rather simple drink.

He cuts the lemon in half and just squeezes it, the juice dripping down into the shaker. Another person might have used a citrus-press. Not him though.

His hair whipping back and forth as he turns around, putting the top on the shaker and hitting the top once. A little spank that I feel…somewhere else… for reasons.

He starts to shake the cocktail, and it’s ridiculous how small the shaker is in his huge hands, he doesn’t even need both to hold it shut. Watching my reaction as he flips and spins it between his fingers, the ridiculous movements pulling laughs from me. Repeating the ones that do. The huge burly man, being the scary looking dude he is, while at the same time not being scary at all. At least not to me. When he’s here with me, like this.

He pours the drink over the ice cubes and fills the rest of the glass with soda, just like the recipe calls for. Taking the little zest of lemon he saved, squeezing it once and then putting it in.

König takes a sip, trying it. ‘Not bad’ is what the grimace on his face tells me before he hands me the tumbler and I take a drink. The bitter notes of gin and the sour sting of lemon juice hit my tongue.

“Nice drink, barkeep.”, I say, taking another sip and put the drink down in front of him. He drinks as well, downing at least half with one single gulp.

“Sind Sie eigentlich öfter hier?”, he asks me, with a sultry smile, not seeming serious at all.

“What does that mean? Funny man, I don’t speak your language.”, I tell him.

He laughs. “It’s flirtingly asking somebody if they come here often. It became a running gag in German as a bad pickup line.”

"Really? And that works?", I ask, skeptically pulling an eyebrow up.

He shrugs, leans forward, against the bar, coming closer and closer, until his face is just inches from mine. "No, it doesn't, but if I see a beautiful woman, I have to try it nonetheless.", he almost purrs. His fucking voice deeper than I ever heard it before. With the way he's looking at me, pure unadulterated lust in his eyes, he pulls me in.

His fingers softly stroke over the inside of my arm, until the thumb reaches my pulsepoint, the pad pressing into it lightly – just once – before he pulls it closer and presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin. His eyes don’t break away from mine for even a moment.

My mouth falls open. My breath is getting caught in my throat and I can feel a pang of need between my thighs, the tingling feeling trickling up my spine.

He straightens back up again, just a little bit, beaming at me with a cocky grin. "See, and that works every time.", he taunts me.

"Well, I'll say.", I answer, still a little out of breath, which makes him laugh, but also come closer again.

"Yeah?", he asks softly. "You think, I can get a kiss from the beautiful woman at the bar like this?"

I nod, lifting myself off the barstool, to meet his lips in a kiss. “Maybe also a second kiss.”, I say, deepening it. My tongue strokes against his, teasing, and tasting the gin on his breath.

"Will the barkeeper also take the beautiful woman to his king size bed?", I ask him, which might be considered bold, if it was indeed a beautiful woman propositioning the barkeeper at the bar who had been flirting with her all evening. But it's just König and me, sitting here together in comfy clothes after we shared a meal. And I'm eager to finish what we started before.

"Hmmm, they are the only two left in the bar, so the barkeeper might just close it up to bend the beautiful woman over the bar and take her right here and now.", he spins my little story further.

"Well, that would be entirely possible, if they had some protection.", I retort, but the imagination alone is making me hot.

A little square foil packet suddenly appears in his hand, almost like out of thin air – more likely from his pocket. "Didn't tell you, I'm not only a barkeeper, but also a magician?", he says, a grin breaking through his expression, even if he tries to stay serious.

I have to laugh so hard I almost fall off the barstool, with the way my body is shaking from laughter ripping through me.

This man. It's quite unfair, to pair his dry wit with those good looks. I mean, it might not be to everybody's taste, but in my book tall, dark and brooding always works – though in his case, the notion of that much rather stems from the way he looks, not the way he is – and him being hilarious like this, especially when I don’t see it coming, definitely has me on my tiptoes.

“A man of many talents, I see.”, I tease him.

“Don’t you know it.”, he says, capturing my smile in a kiss again, barely breaking it to join me on my side of the bar.

I'm practically bent over the bar already, with the way my ass barely touches the seat and I was leaning over to kiss him, trying to get as close to him as possible. He just has to lift my hips a little bit, until I'm truly strewn over the smooth wooden surface.

He doesn't hesitate to pull my panties down, the wet fabric clinging onto me. It doesn’t take much, I’m so wound tight already, because we got interrupted. His fingers coast over the sensitive skin, and I squirm against his touch, holding onto the bar.

"Please, just- do me.", I beg, not minding how desperate that makes me sound.

"Your wish is my command.", he repeats his little quip from earlier this evening. He pulls the shorts down just low enough to take his dick out, the length resting against my ass, and I can't resist moving my hips a little bit, grinding back into him.

"Stop it.", he grumbles, spanking my buttcheek once, with the other hand. "Impatient brat.", he calls me which pulls a little chuckle from my lips.

The ripping of the foil, the snap of rubber, and then his dick nudges against me, dipping into me – just the tip. Fuck, I just want him inside me. He pulls back and repeats the motion a few times, until he finally sinks into me. Giving me a few moments to adjust myself to his length, his hands squeezing my tight ass, before he starts to pound into me.

Harder than last time he fucked me from behind because he isn’t limited by the tight space of his car’s backseat.

“Yes, yes, fuck.”, I whine, the little pleas intermingling with the resounding claps of skin against skin. The whole bar is shaking, the sturdy wood holding out against his hard thrusts.

His hands let go of my ass, his arms framing my body, holding onto the bartop. Using it as leverage to fuck me a tiny bit rougher. And I take everything he’s giving me, relishing the feeling of losing myself in the hard fucking.

Over 300 pounds pushing me up against the furniture, his dick pushing deep inside me. The tip slamming against my cervix, which is making me lose my mind fast.

Groans and mewls drop from my lips with every push into me, the sounds getting louder when he hits that sensitive spot inside me. I almost wanna bite my lip, but I know better than that by now. I know he wants to hear me.

Suddenly, he pulls himself out of me, and for a split second, I'm confused. But instead, his fingers slip into me, the sensations getting rid of my thoughts.

"Fucking hell, you're soaked.", he groans, his digits working in and out of me, the wet sounds almost obscene. The whines dropping from my lips as they stroke over the sensitive spot inside, the same one that his dick was flitting over just moments ago.

"Oh, fuck.", I moan, the intense stimulation making me shake, desperately holding onto the hard surface beneath me, as I cum on his fingers. He pulls them out again, and I whimper because of the sudden loss of fullness. He bends forward, his hands spreading my cheeks, while he laps up the wetness. The hurried licks of his tongue against the sensitive skin prolonging my orgasm, making me shiver.

He straightens back up and lifts me from the bar and just flips me around, setting me down on the wood again, so that I face him. The expression on his face, the hooded lids, the drowsiness in his eyes, the satisfied smirk, his lips glistening of my juices, … Yeah, no man ever has looked this good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt.

My arms reach back, propping myself up on the bar, and my legs spread in an instant, inviting him in. His eyes drop down to my pussy, dripping and still needy. He positions himself, gripping his rubbered-up dick at the base, dragging it over my clit, teasing my entrance with his tip. Driving us both crazy, I can see it on his face.

"Fuck, please...", I whine, my hips bucking up against him.

With a chuckle, he's slipping into my wetness again, easily. Stretching me around his dick and I groan when he bottoms me out, being a little overstimulated already.

He's fucking me in this position, hard just like before, my hips almost at the perfect height, because a normal table would have never been tall enough. I scramble to even hold on, my hands gripping his shoulders now instead of the surface beneath me, trying to not get shaken off it, but he holds me firm in his grasp, holding me steadfast, so his hard fucking doesn’t push me off.

"I'm not gonna make it for much longer.", he grunts quietly, almost like an apology. “’m close, fuck. Gonna come." A deep breath shakes his chest.

My hand extends to cup his face, and even though he seems almost lost in his search for release, he nearly stills.

"Do it. Come for me.", I whisper, my lips coasting against his.

The sound that escapes his throat is a desperate one, and he pulls me tighter against him. One arm around my waist, his hand on my hip, the fingertips digging into the supple swell. My fingers stroke through his hair, the soft strands, and I press my lips to his.

And he kisses me with a frenzy, until I feel his spine stiffen up and a short deep moan against my lips.

He shudders, his whole body shaking, as he spills inside me, his hips still rutting forward, and for a moment I wish, the condom between us wasn't there. Some creampie for dessert.

"Fuck...", he breathes, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, his orgasm finally subsiding. “You okay?”

I nod, a faint ‘yes’ in my lips, and I slump against him, holding onto his waist, breathing heavily. Relishing the embrace, as he pulls me even closer with his strong arms. I breathe in his warm comforting scent, the fabric of the shirt rough against my cheek, as I nuzzle into him.

“I believe there is integral part of my home which you haven’t seen yet.”, he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of my face.

“Really?”, I ask, resting against his huge sweaty chest, my hands still tangled in his t-shirt.

Instead of answering, he lifts me off the surface, my legs closing around his waist. My panties are somewhere, but not covering my pussy that is sitting against his hips. But he doesn’t seem to care that I'm staining his shirt with my wetness. I mean, getting pussy juice on a Cannibal Corpse shirt has to be an achievement on its own, right? I giggle to myself, as he carries me up to his bathroom.

The shower indeed seems spacious enough for him to kneel down – contrary to the one in my apartment.

His hands lather up some soap and start to move over my body, the warmth of his fingers coasting over me. Softly cleaning me and washing away the suds. Refusing to let me do the same for him.

He gets down on his knees, lowering himself even further to the floor, to be right where he wants to be. At eye-level with my pussy. He lifts my left leg, placing it over his shoulder, and presses his face between my thighs. Licking and sucking eagerly.

The spray of water from above hits his hair as well, wetting and darkening the long strands, while my fingers tangle in them, my other hand looking for somewhere to hold onto. The cool tiles press into my back, while the water raining down on us and his huge warm body heat me up. My screams echo off the walls as he makes me come on his tongue, my legs almost giving out while his arms hold me up, not stopping until I’m spent.

We get out of the shower after having been in there for way too long, wasting water standing under the spray. He hands me a bathtowel and I wrap myself in it, just standing there. Watching him dry himself off. He’s quick and methodical about it, the soft fabric stroking over his wet skin, soaking up everything.

He hangs up his towel, and I try not to stare at his naked tattooed body. I mean, I’ve seen him like this before. Also, his dick has just been inside me, but I still can’t help it. I can’t tear my eyes off of him.

“What?”, he asks, as he sees me staring.

“Nothing, just looking at you.”, I say, pulling the towel tighter around me, cocooning myself up.

He comes closer. “Looking comfy.”, he comments, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“I am.”, I answer, and his arms close around me, pressing me against his broad naked chest.

“Stay the night?”, he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Me all huddled up in the huge bathtowel can only nod and grin up at him.

next part: waking up in his bed or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

a/n: a special long chapter for the start of the weekend... i hope you guys had as much fun reading it, as i had writing it, gonna go take a cold shower now 🫠

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months

Text

a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours.

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you.

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him.

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?”

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.”

“What if I say please?”

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour.

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?”

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties.

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile.

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you.

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for.

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it.

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.”

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.”

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care.

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.”

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips.

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in.

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.”

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you.

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you.

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?”

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.”

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you.

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you.

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

#my writing #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #this is so boring lmao my bad #i do believe he'd be such a lil nuisance if i was trying to clean with him in the room #this was written in under an hour and definitely not edited my bad #just wanted to stretch my legs with our favorite metalhead idk #look at me #finally writing and posting again #ooooooooo #i want a simple life with him please

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callisto00 · 2 years

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Squish

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #joe quinn #st4 #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #what a cutie #eddie munson my beloved metalhead

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kathy-ifnt · 3 months

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I have 0 explanations….

Also bonus @emmaseesghosts ‘s Konig aka Jonas chilling with Killian 🤙🏻

Austrian gang 🇦🇹

PATREON | TWITTER

#call of duty #cod #cod fanart #konig #konig smut #konig fanfiction #konig x oc #konig x y/n #konig headcanons #headcanon #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #cod konig #yandere konig #metalhead!könig

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tearsofastraeax · 3 months

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.•° ✿ dating könig moodboard ✿ °•.

#this did things to me #this is sooo metalhead!könig coded #konig #könig cod #konig cod #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #Konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig x you #Konig mw2 #könig mw2 #könig #✧･ﾟ⊹ astra edits 📸

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wordstome · 4 months

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metalhead König and his bubblegum kpop s/o…i see the vision

#there’s a nonzero amount of metalheads who get into kpop tbh #könig #konig #König x reader #konig x reader #korangi #könig cod #konig cod #könig x horangi #konig x you #König x you #cod #call of duty

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ryan-waddell11 · 4 months

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he just wanted an excuse to make his hair blow in the wind

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leasstories · 5 days

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Dream girl

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

No trigger warning, reader is smaller than Eddie but no physical descrpition

WC: 1.1K

02.17.1988, Square Arena, Indianapolis

Today is the highlight of your month, your year even. This is finally the day of Dio, your favorite band ever, and Megadeth’s concert. You arrived early to check the merch stand. You found a beautiful Dio shirt, a Holy Diver one. Exactly the same design as the cover of the album. You are super hyped up and excited by this concert. You are also super grateful Duo had a show so close to your hometown.

Your tour of the merch stands over, you go into the venue. You stand right behind a guy with a mop of curly hair. He is wearing a jean vest with a beautiful Dio’s Last in Line patch on the back. You are a bit jealous of his jacket to be honest. You can see that the patch was homemade from a tee-shirt, and you are jealous not to be a hand-craft person. The light turns off and the concert starts. The guy with the Dio vest is a little taller than you, meaning you don’t really see the stage.

You ponder on what to do for a few minutes when you come up with the idea of asking him if ypi could pretend to know each other so you can be closer to the stage, and maybe see more of the show. It is currently Megadeth playing so you don’t mind not seeing and just listening but when it will be Dio’s turn, you want to be able to listen and see. That’s how, from its own accord your body starts moving towards the mop of curls. You tap on his shoulder. The guy turns around and he looks breath taking. The first thing you notice about him are his big brown eyes. The guy is a perfect mix between Eddie Van Halen and Kirk Hammet. Translation? He is totally your type. You notice several pin’s from metal bands and he is wearing a Megadeth tee.

“Yeah?” he asks curious as to why you tapped on his shoulder.

“C-” you clear your throat. “Can I… um… can we pretend we are together? So I can have a better views of the stage?” you ask, unusually shy.

“Of course,” the man answers, taking your hand and pulling you right next to him.

“I’m Eddie.” He says, handing out his hand for you to shake. You shake his hand, giving him your own name in return. You have been a bit taken aback by his name as you just compared him to Eddie Van Halen in your mind, but you keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Metal fan?” you ask, wincing at your stupid question. Of course he is, you are at a metal concert and the guy wears his music taste on him.

“Yeah, you?” he asks kindly but a bit amused by the question.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, none of you is paying attention to Megadeth playing, too entranced in your new found companionship.

“It’s my first metal concert.” You confess to him.

“Then, I’ll be your guide in the metal concert world.” Eddie says in his Dungeon Master’s voice.

“You are quite the storyteller, I see.” You say flirtatiously.

“Eddie Munson, humble Dungeon Master of the Hellfire Club in Hawkins.” Eddie says, slightly bowing.

“A D&D club I presume?” you ask.

“You know D&D?” Eddie asks, baffled.

“I know it’s uncommon for girls, but I used to play before my party moved out for college.” You answer truthfully.

“You should come for one of my holiday one shot.” Eddie says excitedly.

“With pleasure.” You say, matching Eddie’s excitement.

Eddie and you both turn back to the stage, to watch the concert. Eddie admire your body swaying to the music. He can’t stop thinking about how you are his dream girl. He doesn’t believe one second that he will see you after tonight, so he is planning to enjoy your company tonight.

Then, when Dio comes to the stage, Eddie can see your face light up and finds it adorable. During the entirety of the concert, his eyes are fixated on you, screaming the words for each song.

At the end, Dio starts throwing their guitar picks at the crowd and Eddie instinctually picks you up to help you get one, which you do.

You are super excited about it and when Eddie puts you down, you turn to him and hand him the guitar pick.

“Keep it.” Eddie says, shaking his head.

“But you did all the work!” you say.

“I want you to keep it,” Eddie says with a smile. “So you’ll remember me.”

“How could I forget you.” You say sincerely.

While Eddie and you keep talking, the band leaves the stage and the crowd starts leaving. Everyone, except you and Eddie goes towards the exit. None of you want this night to be over. You want time to stop and you want to stay together for a little longer.

“Wanna go grab some food?” Eddie asks. “I saw a McDonald right next to the venue.”

“With pleasure. I’m starving.” You say, smiling.

Eddie and you leave the venue, the McDonald is full so Eddie suggest to take away and eat in the back of his van which you gladly accept. While you wait for your order, Eddie learns more about you and you learn that he is the lead guitarist and singer in a band. He tells you he plays in a dive bar in his town every Tuesday and you suggest that you should watch him play once.

“What?” Eddie asks. “You would drive all the way to Hawkins to watch little ol’ me play?” he asks, surprised.

“Of course Eddie. In case you haven’t noticed I really like you.” You say while taking the bags of food and walking towards Eddie’s van.

“I really like you too.” Eddie says while opening the back doors of his van. “Here give me the bags.” He says which you do.

You both sit in the back of the van and eat your food in comfortable silence. Once you’ve finished eating, you take a napkin and write your phone number on it.

“Call me.” You tell him with a smile.

“I will.” Eddie says nodding. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I want to do it again.”

“Me too.” You say smiling.

Here’s how Eddie and you met, two nerdy metalheads meeting at a Dio concert. Your dream is to meet Dio in order to thank them for giving you the opportunity to meet the love of your life. Here’s the story you will tell your children when they ask how mommy met daddy.

Taglist: @abellmunsonmovie

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson lives #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x metalhead reader

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satanprotectsme · 1 year

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Baby's First Heat

Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Reader - Smut

A/N This is the first smut I'm posting onto here so I really hope it's okay!! There isn't much plot... but who cares!

Summary: With Eddie being a couple years older than you, he presented as an alpha a while ago. Along with your presentation as an omega, came your first heat. Eddie's there to coach you through it.

Warnings: A/B/O, pain kink, biting kink, piv sex, oral f!receiving, breeding kink, established relationship,

wc: 1.5k

⛧⛧⛧

I wasn’t been able to lull myself to sleep at all last night, my body incalescent. I tore my nightgown off, assuming it was just another torrid, Indiana night, until it got worse. There was hot, sultry, slick pouring out of my pussy. I reach my hand between my legs. I had no clue what was going on with me, but it was 2 in the morning, and that was the solution.

But now it's about 10 am, and I've been rubbing my dripping folds for hours. Mewls wrestling their way past my lips, racking my whole body along with them. I shove my face into Eddie's worn out Metallica t-shirt, tightly clamping my thighs together.

He only goes to school like, once a week, and it had to be today? My phone ringing startles me, making me hurtle myself out of bed. Pulling it to my ear, the voice on the other side makes even more slick pour between my legs.

"Sweetheart? You told me you'd be at school today, where are you? I only came to see-"

"Eds," I breathe. "Please come over, need you s' bad."

"Being horny is not an excuse to not come to-"

"I think I-I presented Eddie, please, it- it hurts so fucking bad," I sob, my biceps quivering at my feeble attempt to hold myself up.

"Oh shit, I knew something was up last night. Give me ten minutes, tops," the phone buzzed as he hung up. I couldn't hold myself upright long enough to place it on the reciever, the coil keeping it from slamming against the floor.

God, how could ten minutes feel like years? My humility dead and buried six feet under, I start to rut my weeping cunt on the duvet. My clit's red and raw, the knit fabric creating a throbbing feeling on my heat . Clamping the ear of my big teddy between my teeth, I try to hold back the pathetic noises from leaving my lips.

When I hear a tap on my window, I squeak. I reach over and unlock it, my body not having enough power to push it open for him. He crawls through, hurridly kicking his boots off.

"Fuck, your slick smells so sweet, nectarous, sweetheart " Eddie sighs, pulling me close. With one hand tangled in my hair, and one on my mound, he pushes me to the bed. “Shoulda’ called me earlier Omega, what if another Alpha smelt you from outside?”

“S-sorry Eddie,” I whine softly into his ear, he laughs softly.

“I bet you’d let any Alpha in here to satiate you, to imprint you with his scent, yeah?” He caresses my thighs, awaiting my response.

“No Alpha! Only wan’ you Eds, you‘re the only Alpha I want please!” I wail, grabbing his head and pulling him into me.

Our lips slam together, our teeth clashing in the process, but care and inhibition were thrown out the window. My heads fuzzy. Eddie’s musky, forest scent coalesces beautifully with my sweet, vanilla aroma, emobodying our dynamic. Unravelling our lips, they drift down to my neck, not hesitating to sink his canines into the flesh. His tongue traces the marks buried in my flesh. Deep, chocolate eyes, hazy with lascivousness, gaze up at me. "Can I taste you, baby?"

"Please Alpha! 'S all I want, please!" I whine, wrapping my fingers into his hair. Eddie pulls his jacket off and brings himself face level to my folds. As slick pours out of me, Eddie presses his face against my thigh, inhaling my aroma. He sucks a small, violet mark into my inner thighs, running his tongue higher and higher until he reaches my heat. When he flattens his tongue against my pussy, I can't help but to squeal, pushing Eddie's head closer to my cunt. A single tear rolling down my face, I wrap my legs around his head.

"You taste so fucking good, my Omega, taste even sweeter than you smell," He sighs before sucking my clit between his lips. His saccharine words make more slick release from my cunt, my body behaving without input. Pushing two fingers between my folds, his tongue flicks my clit back and forth in a hypnotic pattern. A moan gets caught in my throat when I feel his fingers bruise my g-spot.

I couldn’t tell if it was because of my desperate frenzy, but this was the best head he’s ever given me. With my hands tangled in his curls, I tug on his hair. He growls and bites down on my clit. I whimper and wrap my legs around his head.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum my alpha! Can I? Please?"

"Of course my Omega, cum all over my face," The second I process his permission, slick pours from my folds as I howl, grinding my cunt on his lips. My cum squirts from between my folds, spattering all over Eddie's face. He moans, eyes rolled back into his skull. "Good girl, my sweet and perfect omega."

"Thank you Alpha!" I pull him by his hair so I can press a hot kiss on his lips, something that had been overlooked until now. When my tongue tangles with his, I can taste my own cum. I whine into his mouth. He pulls away from me, unbuckling his belt. The second his clothes are off, I'm pulling him back into my embrace, yearning for the feeling of my alpha's skin against mine. He grinds his cock against my soaked thighs. I hold his shoulders, pushing my hips into his.

"You want this cock, Omega?" He growls into my ear. I whimper, hastily nodding my head. “Use your words, gorgeous.”

"Please Alpha! It hurts so bad! I need ur big cock stuffed inside of me! Need you to knot me and fill me with your babies! Please!” I beg and plead. Eddie just chuckles and starts pushing the tip in, finally mounting me. The insert definitely burns, his dick stretching my cunt to its limits, but the slick helped him slip in. When his sack pressed against me, he stills, licking away the tears that are streaming along my hot, roseate complexion. The hormones blurring his judgement, Eddie immediately starts thrusting his cock in and out of my cunt. The pornographic squelching sounds are almost as loud as my moans.

Enfolding me in his embrace, I scratch my nails down Eddie’s spine, he growls in my ear. My face buried in his neck, his musk deluging my senses, a thick fog clouding my senses. Barely holding my eyes open, I pull myself back, wanting to stare into Eddie’s eyes. His salacious gaze keeping me still, a smirk drawn perfectly on his lips. A primal growl leaves his lips as he reaches down to rub my clit.

"You're doing so good my little Omega, being such a good girl for her first heat," Eddie praises me. I nod, wanting to thank him, but all I can do is babble with each thrust of his hips. "Want me to mark you up? Imprint you so no other alpha will ever come near you? Want everyone to know you belong to me?"

"Please Alpha! C-claim me! Mark me with your scent!" I wail. A carnal, animalistic howl rips through Eddie's chest as he grips my waist, pulling me down onto his cock. I replace his finger, that was once on my clit with my own. "Fuck, Alpha! Can I cum? W-wanna cum all over your dick. Want you to fill me with your knot, please!"

"Cum for me, omega, gonna fill you up. My scent is going to be leaking off of you for days," With his permission, the speed on my clit is hurried, trying to rush myself to the edge.

"Thank you Alpha!" I moan, holding him close as I convulse. Wrapping my legs around him, I enclose him between my thighs, clasping him as his knot expands inside of me. Gasping for air, but it's all thick with aphrodesia, syrupy and saccharine with our mixing scents. A goofy smile takes over Eddie's lips, a stark contrast to the pointed smirk he's been wearing since he got here.

"We- uh- might be stuck here for a while," He chuckles, petting my hair. I look down, his knot bulging in my stomach. Eddie presses down on it, making me whimper and turn my head away from him. He leans down, whispering in my ear. "You're all mine now, my sweet, little omega."

"Just wan- be yours," I babble, my brain still incoherent, just happy to be claimed. "Thank you Eds," I whimper, a little smile matching my cloudy eyes.

"Of course sweetheart, but you'll have plenty of time to thank me, I don't think I'm leaving for the next few days."

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