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#anyways that’s why rockstar is my baby baby
sluttywonwoo · 6 months
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oct 3rd
bang chan x f!reader
smut mdni; unprotected sex, lil bit of degradation/dumbification
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“ready for bed, rockstar?”
chris laughs, shaking his wet curls out with the same towel he’d used to dry his body after showering.
“not quite,” he calls from the bathroom as he hangs the the towel up.
you wrack your brain, going through the steps of his nighttime routine in your head. “what’s left to do?”
he smirks. “you.”
you roll your eyes but giggle as he leaps onto the bed and smothers you with his body weight, not even putting up a fight when he starts yanking at the covers to get the blankets off you.
“i don’t even know why i bother with pajamas,” you complain, again not stopping your boyfriend from unbuttoning the top of your matching set. “i always end up naked anyway.”
“i know,” chris hums. “you should be more like me.”
“yeah? showing myself off shirtless to the whole world all the time?”
he pouts. “that’s not what i meant.”
“i know, i know. but you’re lucky i’m good at sharing, by the way. the amount of pictures of your tits that pop up on my social media feeds would make a lot of girlfriends upset.”
“you know the algorithm curates said feeds based on what you’re interested in, so you’re really just telling on yourself,” chris mumbles, slipping your shorts off along with your underwear.
“who wouldn’t be into your tits? i’m not ashamed!”
“well, they’re all yours, baby.”
“tell that to stays,” you mutter.
he chuckles and strokes your face fondly before pushing his thumb into your mouth to get you to suck on it. “they can look but only you can touch.”
you release his thumb from between your lips with a smug grin.
“lucky me.”
the aforementioned smug grin falters when your boyfriend brings his hand down and starts using that same thumb to rub your clit.
“fuck, chris,” you moan, fingers curling around his wrist.
“god, you’re soaked already… what’s this about?”
“seeing you on stage tonight,” you choke out, “you know what you did.”
“ah, did you like my solo stage, baby?” he taunts.
“fuck you.”
“yeah, i thought you would. didn’t know you’d like it this much though.”
he speeds up and you arch your back, pushing your hips into his touch. he kisses you as he works you to the edge, trying to swallow your moans so you don’t get another noise complaint. chris tries to think about who you’re sharing a wall with tonight. he knows it’s one of the boys because he was the one given all of the room keys to hand out to the members when they checked in but he couldn’t remember which one was supposed to be right next door. was it seungmin? lino? whoever it is, he hopes they're already asleep.
“what is it, baby? are you close?”
you start to nod but then shake your head. “want you,” you whine.
“you have me,” he whispers.
"want you to fuck me," you clarify.
"oh really?"
you tug at his arm, motioning for him to get on top of you. he obliges and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. it works but he doesn't slide inside of you just yet. instead, he teases you with it, moving his hips like he would if he were fucking you.
“need me to stretch you out first?” he asks.
“nah, you have to get up early in the morning we should make this quick.”
“how romantic,” he scoffs.
“you felt how wet i was! i don’t need anything else. just your cock.”
he sighs, hanging his head. "fine."
"don't be so dramatic," you murmur. "if you're that torn up about it you can wake me up with your fingers. or use them to push your cum back inside of me after you fuck me."
chris buries his head in your shoulder, whimpering out a quiet "fuck" against your neck as his cock twitches between your legs.
"i love you," he moans.
"i know," you reply. "i love you too."
chan finally pushes into you, just the head at first, but it's enough to get you to moan.
"shh, baby. don't want the neighbors to hear."
you nod in understanding, biting your bottom lip. "sorry."
"s'okay. i know it feels good."
"feels so good, channie," you agree.
he lifts an eyebrow. "channie already? wow, baby, you're even further gone than i thought."
"c-can't help it."
"i know. only takes an inch of cock to turn you into my soft girl, huh?"
"mhm."
"what'll happen if i give you more? are you sure you'll be able to take it?"
you tighten your thighs around chan's hips, trying to force him deeper inside of you. he's much stronger than you, though, and easily resists your efforts.
"i can take it!"
"you sure?"
"yes, i'll be good! i'll be so good!"
"i know you'll be good," chris chuckles. "you're always- almost always good for me. i'm just worried any more of my cock will make you completely brainless."
"so? when has that ever stopped you before?"
"good point."
"please, chris," you beg, tears gathering on your lash line.
"it's back to chris? what happened to channie?"
"i'll call you whatever you want if you fuck me," you promise, moving on from begging to bargaining.
"i don't care what you call me-"
"oh, hyun-"
"except my friends' names," he mutters, scoffing in disbelief. "that desperate you're resorting to brattiness now? i should just pull out and-"
"no, please! i'm sorry!"
"i'm sure you are."
you want to point out that you know he loves it when you're a little bratty, that he gets off on it, but you also know that it won't help your case.
"i'll make it up to you," you say instead.
"yeah? how?"
"you'll find out."
"is it by making me cum?"
you purse your lips. "maybe?"
he rolls his eyes. "fine, but i bet i'll make you cum first."
you offer him your hand and shake on it despite not discussing any terms or stakes.
"you're on."
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aphrogeneias · 5 months
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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 — titjob
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader
warnings: porn with feelings. size of reader's breasts are not described.
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Giving your boyfriend's hair a trim was not in your job description. In hindsight, dating him was also not in the job description, but same as your improvised hairstylist duties, it happened anyway.
The trailer that served as his dressing room was packed with different options of outfits, laying scattered around the few pieces of furniture, his own personal belongings mixed with them. It was a mess, and you were sitting in the middle of it, straddling Eddie on the couch.
You'd been outside, supervising the venue, when Eddie came — sauntering around with no shirt under his leather jacket — and asked, specifically, for you to trim his bangs. "They're falling all over my eyes, sweetheart," he complained, flashing you those chocolate eyes, doubling in size with his dramatics, "how am I supposed to play like that?"
At first, you thought he just wanted an excuse to get you alone. "Trim his bangs" could be all but a code for "let me bend you over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck you until we're both satisfied". It wouldn't be the first time that happened, and it wouldn't be the last.
When you got there, he was actually telling the truth. You found it strange, given that Eddie himself was the only one to ever style his own hair, not trusting anyone else to do it. You figured he just needed some comfort, to steer away the anxiety that still came with performing for large crowds, and who were you to deny him that?
That was how you found yourself delicately cutting the ends of his hair, and making sure his bangs stayed just above his eyebrows, while Eddie couldn't keep his hands still. It distracted you, the way his rough hands ran over your thighs, exposed by how your skirt rode up, over your hips, drumming his fingers on them, squeezing your waist and running them down again.
He was finally relaxed when you finished. "There," you smoothed his hair with your fingers, giving them a light brush, before giving his forehead a quick kiss, "all done, baby."
As you disposed of the hand towel that sat between your bodies, careful to not let the hair in it fall, and set it on the side table, Eddie hugged your body tight, crushing you to him. You giggled and hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he scattered kisses all over your exposed cleavage.
"Thank you, angel." He mumbled into your skin. You told him it was no problem, but it felt like he wasn't even listening, too busy with the feeling of your soft skin on his face, nuzzling you like a cat. You let him have it, knowing how much he needs it. It's an unspoken language between you — more often than not, Eddie needed his hands to speak for him, and you were more than happy to listen.
With his head buried in your chest, Eddie was speaking, but it turned incoherent with how muffled it was. "What is it?"
He sighed, lifting his head a little, but still not looking up. "Wanna fuck'em."
For a moment, you fluster, heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. It was silly, that wasn't the most scandalous thing Eddie had proposed to you, but it felt intimate.
"You wanna fuck my tits?"
"Please?" He looked almost pathetic, pouting his pink lips at you, his big eyes begging. You didn't know why that was necessary — you couldn't say no to Eddie, you weren't about to start then.
"Yeah, sure." You lift his bangs from his forehead, pulling his hair a little. He followed your movement with his head, closing his eyes at the feeling. "Go ahead, sweet boy."
You share a few, deep kisses, with Eddie's arms still around you. He was already half hard in his jeans under you, the bulge touching the cotton of your panties. As he kissed you, Eddie quickly removed your top and your bra, discarding them somewhere on the floor.
Suddenly, you were flipped over, your back hitting the cushion. Your boyfriend took his time, kissing up and down your chest, lavishing your nipples with his tongue until they hardened under his touch, using his fingers to pull and pinch them, delighting on the sweet noises that left your mouth.
When he was happy with how worked up he got you, he stood up briefly to remove his pants and underwear, having already shed his jacket earlier. You took a moment to admire him — the silver piercing on his left nipple, his pale torso, his dark tattoos, the smattering of hair that ran down his chest and led into his happy trail, his thick cock heavy against his navel. It made your mouth water, but you needed to stick with what you'd promised.
You watched as he stroked himself, and learned down again, pecking your lips. His hand hadn't left his cock, the other supporting his body above you, as he looked into your eyes and asked "Are you ready?"
"Yeah. I'm ready."
A smirk was his only answer. Without much preamble, he licked a fat strip right in the valley of your breasts, and spit, letting his saliva run down the crest. Your breathing was heavy, chest heaving with anticipation, pussy fluttering between your legs, forming a sticky puddle on the fabric of your panties.
He straddled your hips, and your hands went straight to your tits, holding them for him as he slid his cock between them, setting a slow pace at first. Above you, Eddie bit his lips, eyes blown with desire, "That's it, good girl. Play with them for me."
You did as he said, caressing and pulling on your nipples as you kept them in place, and he fucked them with abandon now, hips pistoning in place, moaning his praises to you. "Look at you, so fucking pretty. The prettiest fucking girl and she's all mine. Mine to play with, aren't you? Yeah, you are. My little plaything."
You moved your hips too, desperate for some friction, but to no relief. Instead, you surged forward, pulling yourself up on your elbows, wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock, sucking on the wetness that leaked from it. Eddie almost howled, the muscles on his stomach tensing and clenching as he got closer to his climax.
"M'gonna cum, angel. Gonna cum all over your perfect tits, give you a pretty necklace. You want that, don't you? Want my cum all over you."
Releasing him from your mouth, you looked up at him, searching for his wild eyes. "I want it, baby. Give it all to me. Give me your cum."
It didn't take long until he did, spilling his seed all over your chest and neck. He stopped himself from bending on the waist with the force of it, knuckles white from holding himself with a hand on the back of the couch. You stared in awe, his brown curls a golden halo around his head, his skin flushed red, glowing with sweat.
"Fuck. That was…" He heaved. "Goddamnit, baby."
"Happy now?" You teased.
"Pleased as fucking punch."
Eddie unmounted you for a second, only to lean down again, and give you a proper kiss on the lips, putting all of his appreciation into the way he sucked your tongue into his mouth. He stood up briefly to find some tissues, cleaning you with them, and promptly settling himself on top of you again, his wandering hands finding your body again.
You were writhing under him, finally getting some relief as he let you grind on his thigh, when three harsh knocks were delivered to the trailer's door.
"Eddie, where the fuck are you?" Your boss's voice, Corroded Coffin's tour manager and glorified babysitter, cut through the haze you were in, and you let out a frustrated sigh, throwing your head back as Eddie groaned.
"I can hear you in there, man."
"I'll be right there, boss." Eddie yelled back. You could almost cry, feeling your neglected pussy wet and throbbing, needy for your boyfriend's touch.
"Go, Eddie. It's okay." You whispered, trying not be noticed.
It was his turn to sigh, kissing your forehead once again, before standing up, looking for his clothes. "I'd stay if I didn't run the risk of getting dragged out of here."
"Just promise me you'll make up for it?" You couldn't help the pitiful whine in your voice.
He smirked, eyes darkening as he slid his shirt over his head. "You're gonna regret asking for that when I'm done with you."
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hyuckmov · 28 days
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hi queen I hope you're doing fine, we miss you on here 😭
can we please get something from rockstar hyuck part 3??? just crumbs please
here's something spicy that i actually wrote when i FIRST started rockstar hyuck wayyy way way back :) as a thank u to u guys for sticking w me i hope u missed just filth LOL
-
the call connects just after two rings, a sharp crackle of static before you're met with the sound of his soft breathing, loud against the quiet of his surroundings. 
"hey," you whisper, breathlessly. you didn't expect him to even pick up, considering how busy he was after shows. there was every chance he was still at the venue, high off the adrenaline that performing always gave him, or that he was at another one of his after-show parties, feeding off the adoration and desire that always surrounded him in a haze. 
"hey." you can't tell if he's mocking you, his voice equally breathy. "miss me?"
"yeah." you nibble on your lip, unsure what to say now that he was actually listening. shuffling back onto the pillows laid out on your bed, you sigh. "i'm sorry i couldn't make it to your show." it was the band's first trip to play a few gigs in another city close by, and although you wanted to follow, you just couldn't make the time for it. 
the boys, of course, had been endlessly excited – a new city, a new crowd…and of course a whole new slew of girls to show up to their parties. 
"it's fine," he murmurs, lightly. "i'll be back soon, anyway." 
you hear him shift around, and once again you're reminded of how surprising it is that he's picked up. "are you on the way to the party now?" 
"i'm not going to the party tonight, baby." the term of endearment snags your breath, a warmth spreading sweet and slow inside your body. "'m just staying in the hotel." 
"really?" you blurt out, hating the way your voice betrays the spark of hope that flickers in your chest. 
he laughs, and you can hear the smile in it. "it's good that you called," he says, quietly. there's a pause, as you try to figure out how to interpret his words. 
"not going to ask why, baby?" 
"why?" you ask, weakly. 
"because i've been thinking of you all day." you hear the clink of a wine glass being set down on a table, and then the rustle of sheets. "listened to that voice memo you sent me a week ago after the show…got me so fucking hard i couldn't even show up to the party, baby."
you inhale sharply, thighs pressing instinctively together. "haechan…" you murmur, fear prickling at your skin even though you know no one's listening. 
"it got so much worse after i drank," he breathes. "'m so sensitive right now…we've never fucked while drunk right?" 
"haechan," you plead, unsure if you want him to stop or continue. 
"what's wrong?"
"we're…we're on the phone." 
"so?" and now there's a thud, and you're sure he's dropped his phone next to him . you can hear the clink of his belt being unbuckled, the heavy slide of it as he tosses it somewhere off the bed. a rustle of fabric, and then a low groan sounding out, the sound shooting straight to your core. 
"haechan!" 
"fuck…baby," he pants. "keep saying my name like that." 
"hae–" you cut yourself off, biting your lip. fuck.
there's a short pause, your ears filled with the sound of his breathing, as if his body were caging yours in. the memory of it so vivid that you can't help but trail your hands down to the waistband of your shorts, something about the sultry way his voice played in your ears without him actually being there, the ghost of his touch still lingering in the corners of your body –
"- i can hang up, if i'm making you uncomfortable." there's a nervous stutter to his voice, which has lost all cadences of lust. "i'm sorry. i'll see you when i get back, –" 
"don't." you don't bother to hide the neediness in your voice, too stung by the idea of him hanging up, of him leaving you to fester in this unbearable heat. "please stay." 
you hear him inhale. "would it help if we switched to video call?" 
you feel lightheaded, mouth moving without sound. 
"baby," he presses. "you have to tell me if i'm making you feel uncomfortable, okay?" 
"let's not…let's not switch to video call," you swallow. "yet." 
"whatever you want," he agrees, softly. "are you on your bed, sweetheart?" 
"yes," you whisper. "j-jaemin's in his room too." 
"then we'll have to be quiet, hm?" 
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Hard on Myself
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Pairing: EddiexFemReader
Summary: This was a request
Can you make another rockstar!eddie where they just had a baby and the reader goes to one of his shows with the baby to see her daddy and she gets dressed up but reader still has a bit of post partum body and the fan girls see it and shame on her and reader declines eddies touches and works out and later eddie finds out and she breaks down and they make love? :)
18+ only
“Hey, I just got Cadence down to sleep,” Eddie murmured in your ear as he slid up behind you in the hotel room, his hands holding onto your arms. “We should take advantage of the alone time.” Those hands slid down your arms and the minute they touched your waist you shot away from him, like a firework jetting off into the sky. 
“Actually, I was going to go workout,” you offered with a strained smile. 
You had brought the baby to Eddie’s show three nights ago, wanting to surprise him. Stella, Gareth’s girlfriend, had stayed with the baby on the tour bus while you watched the concert. You didn’t want to subject your ten week old’s ears to the deafening music. You had been so excited, putting on a red dress that Eddie had always loved on you. It had been a little tighter than usual and yeah, you had a little pooch in your middle and you had to wear a good bra because breastfeeding was not doing anything great for your boobs, but you’d just had a baby. You decided to wear it anyway, wanting to look perfect for your husband. 
But then the comments began, fangirls all around noticing you, knowing exactly who you were. Considering Rolling Stone had done a feature on the band and their families, with you and Eddie right on the cover, it didn’t surprise you that they recognized you as his wife. What did surprise you was what you heard them saying. You could still hear the razor sharp digs at you now. 
“How long does she think she’s going to keep him around if she doesn’t lose that baby weight?”
“Ugh…how has he not left her yet? She’s delusional if she thinks he’s sticking around.”
“She looks like a whale in that dress. Why would she even think she should wear that?”
“Oh my god, why does she still look pregnant? Didn’t she have that baby weeks ago?”
“Ladies, we need to get backstage. If that’s what he’s coming home to, Eddie will jump at the chance to be with a girl who actually takes care of herself. He deserves so much hotter than lard-ass over there.”
“Damn, has she ever met a donut she didn’t eat?”
Tears stung your eyes but you swallowed hard, forcing them back, refusing to cry in front of Eddie. You couldn’t let him see how much those remarks had hurt. You didn’t want him to feel bad. You had signed on for this life. You had agreed to stick by him as she sought out his rockstar dreams and now that it was happening, you couldn’t do anything to ruin it for him. 
But you couldn’t help wondering if they were right. You knew you should work out, but it was so hard when you barely felt human anymore. Cadence was perfect, but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a solid night’s sleep. Your brain felt foggy, everything coated in a mist that made it difficult to know where you were or what you were supposed to be doing at the moment. You were exhausted all the time. You barely had the energy to shower, let alone work out. 
“Sweetheart, didn’t you already work out this morning?” asked Eddie. 
“Yeah, but I feel like getting another one in and the hotel gym is so nice. I don’t have time to do this back home when it’s just me and it feels good. I mean, Cadence is twelve weeks old. I should be getting this baby weight off. The doctor gave me the all clear.”
Eddie stepped into you, resting his hands on his hips, his eyes moving up and down your body, “I don’t see anything that needs fixing. You look perfect.” Those soft, brown eyes searched yours, as if he could see into your mind, what you were thinking. “And princess, if this matters to you, then I will support you but I’m also worried. You worked out three times yesterday and now you’re talking about a second time today. You just had a baby. Don’t overdo it.”
Sighing, you backed away from him, holding your hands in front of you, “Eddie, I’m fine. The doctor said working out was fine. It’s been twelve weeks since I had her. You’re acting like I just gave birth yesterday.”
“I’m not saying you just gave birth yesterday but you’re a brand new mom. Cut yourself some slack. It just seems like you’re suddenly a bit obsessive about working out. I don’t want to find you passed out in the hotel gym.”
“Jesus, Eddie, just let it go. I’m not going to pass out in the gym. Just watch our daughter, something you never have to do since you’re out being a rockstar. I just want a little goddamn time to myself, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”
Eddie’s head reared back in shock, those eyes flashing instantly from soft and warm to hard and disbelieving, “You signed up for this life. You told me you were okay with this when we decided to go for it. I can’t help it that we’re on tour right now. I offered to hire you a nanny to help. I planned more days off in between so I could be home. I suggested the two of you just come on the road with us because you know I hate being away from you.”
“Yeah, because that’s realistic. Let’s take a baby across the country in a bus. Come off it!” you yelled. You knew you weren’t being fair. You knew you were being a bitch but you couldn’t help it. All the hormones, the lack of sleep, the sheer exhaustion in your body, the words of those spiteful girls…it was all catching up to you and he happened to be in your line of sight. “I did sign up for this but it’s fucking hard. You’re not around and you’d think when you are, you could let me have just a little bit of me time! Is that really too much to ask?”
“Baby, I’m not saying that, but why don’t you actually take some time to relax? You could run yourself a bath or go sit by the pool and read a book? I will take care of Cadence all day if you need me to. I miss her. I would love to spend the day with her.”
“I am sure you would love it if I left you alone all day. Then you wouldn’t have to look at me and how disgusting I am now that I’ve bore your fucking child,” you snapped, hearing him yell your name as you charged out of the hotel room and down to the gym. 
____________________________________________________________
The next morning, you were making your way back to your hotel room from the gym again. You had gone twice more yesterday, ignoring Eddie in the process, not wanting to face the reality of what was happening to your marriage, the things you said. It had taken every ounce of your energy to get through your workout and you had grown irrationally angry when your legs shook so bad you couldn’t even do a squat. How out of shape were you? Your body couldn’t even handle the workouts. 
You had showered at the gym, trying to delay the inevitable, knowing Eddie would be awake when you returned. You stood in front of the mirror after your shower, scrutinizing every inch of your body, disgusted with yourself. How had you allowed yourself to get like this? Those girls were right. If Eddie saw you naked now, he’d be repulsed with you. You grabbed the rolls of skin around your middle, pinching them until it hurt, as if you could just pull them off and make them vanish. Tears of revulsion, self-loathing, and despair trailed down your cheeks as you took in the faint stretch marks around your stomach and thighs, the dark circles under your hairs, the wan appearance of the skin on your face. You hated yourself. You hated this body. You were going to lose your husband to someone thinner and prettier than you, someone who did yoga every day and spent hours primping until everything was perfect. You didn’t have time to be perfect. You were too busy trying to figure out how to keep a tiny human alive and happy.
Finally, knowing you couldn’t put it off any longer, you had decided to face the inevitable. Eddie was going to leave you. He would find a replacement for you. And could you blame him? You saw the girls who threw themselves at him night after night. Of course it was only a matter of time…how long could he resist temptation when you were what he had to come home to?
Using your keycard, you opened the hotel door, the soft sound of your husband singing greeting your ears. You dropped your workout bag and peered around the corner to find him swaying in the sitting area, singing sweetly to your daughter. You recognized it. It was ‘All My Love’ by Led Zeppelin, the first song Eddie had danced with you to, out by Lover’s Lake. Just the two of you underneath the moon, those strong arms feeling like the safest place in the world. It was in that moment that you knew he was the only thing you ever wanted in life, that you would do anything to hold onto him forever.
Your heart broke watching him. You knew he adored your daughter. Cadence was his whole world. He would call before shows and ask you to put the phone to her ear so he could talk to her, terrified she would forget the sound of her dad’s voice. Even if he left you, he would never leave her, but that didn’t make the agony any less. 
“Hey, there you are,” he whispered as he caught sight of you standing there. 
Walking over to the bassinet, he gently laid Cadence down. Moving to you, he took your hands in his, gesturing with his head to follow him into the bedroom. You swallowed the hard knot of emotion that was strangling you and followed him. Eddie sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. Your body tensed, everything in your wanting to run, to flee what was coming, but you fought against it, joining him, your eyes focused on the floor. 
“Princess, what is going on?” he asked, his hand covering yours, that calloused thumb gently running along your skin. In spite of yourself, your body immediately responded to his touch, your tense muscles relaxing. “You are obsessively working out and I can’t figure out if it’s because you want to or it’s a way to avoid me.”
“I’m not…” you began, but you knew it was a lie. You were avoiding him because you were terrified of what was going to happen. If you weren’t with him, he couldn’t tell you he was leaving you. “I don’t know. Maybe I am avoiding you.”
“But why?” he urged. “Sweetheart, I’ve missed you so much. I hate being away from you and Cadence. I understand your reasoning for not bringing her on tour, but if we’re only going to be able to have a few days every few weeks, then we should be making the most of our time together. All I want is to curl up with you and her and soak in every single second so it can hopefully be enough to get me to the next time. I don’t know why you don’t want that. Are you…baby, are you unhappy with me?”
“No! I love you!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. You couldn’t do it anymore. Your head dropped forward as your body shook with sobs, all of the ugly things you’d feared, you’d been told, you’d been telling yourself just crashing down on you. 
“Oh princess,” Eddie breathed, gathering you in his arms. 
He laid back, gently guiding you with him and just held onto you as your entire body released everything that you had been caging, as the dam you’d built broke and the exhaustion, grief, and fear just came flowing out in torrents of pain. You gripped his shirt in your hands, soaking the fabric with your tears, relishing the comfort only he could ever provide you. 
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on, please?” he implored, his fingers tenderly kneading the flesh of your back. “I hate seeing you like this. Let me help you.”
“I…I…” you gasped. Pausing, you took slow, small breaths to try to calm yourself so you could speak. “Girls at your show, they were saying stuff. How long did I think I could keep you? What was I doing wearing that dress when I looked like a whale? Why did I still look pregnant? Why wasn’t I taking care of myself? I just…”
“What?” Eddie’s head jerked back, his eyes gazing into yours with genuine shock. “Fuck those girls. Who the hell do they think they are talking about my wife, talking about anyone, that way?”
“But it’s true!” you argued, pulling out of his embrace and sitting up. “Look at me! I can’t compare to all those groupies that hang around with their toned stomachs, tight asses, and tits that actually sit where they should without a bra. I’m a goddamn mess! I wanted to work out because…I don’t know. I wanted to be good enough for you, sexy enough for you…so you wouldn’t leave me for one of them.”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie crooned, sitting up next to you. His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, turning your face to his. “I am not going anywhere, ever. I love you. You. And yes, I think you’re beautiful and gorgeous and so damn sexy, but it’s so much bigger than that. What we have is so much deeper than that. You don’t have to do a fucking thing to be good enough for me. You’re more than enough. In fact, you’re too damn good for me. I sit back every day and wonder how I got to be the lucky bastard you chose.”
Tears pooled in your eyes again at his words as you took in this beautiful man who had your whole heart and had since junior year of high school. All these years later, and he still had the ability to take your breath away, to cause you to lose your train of thought, to completely knock you off your feet. He had no idea how goddamn perfect he was. 
“I love you, princess, just you,” he whispered, his hand cradling your cheek, his lips so close you could feel the warmth of his breath passing over your skin. “I am never going anywhere.”
Then his lips were on yours, soft and warm, sending shocks of pleasure straight through you. His tongue slid along your lips, parting them so he could explore your mouth. You released a quiet whimper, fingers tangling in his hair, your entire body recognizing him, remembering how much it enjoyed the feel of his mouth and hands. 
You gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Your hands roamed along the familiar territory of his skin; his chest, his stomach; that little line of hair that led temptingly to what you desired most. You ran your fingers up his back, across his shoulder blades, relishing every single inch of him that you’d missed so much these last months. His fingers grabbed your shirt and shocked you back to reality. Your hands shot out, covering his and pulling them back.
“What?” he asked, pausing the kiss to look at you, concern apparent in that lovely face. “What’s wrong?”
“N…nothing,” you managed, shaking your head. 
Eddie’s head tilted slightly and you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe you. He stood from the bed, taking your hand and pulling you up. Those eyes bore into yours, ensuring you everything would be okay as he reached for your shirt again. You fought the urge to stop him as he slowly pulled it over your head. Turning you around, he pressed his chest to your back so you were both facing the floor to ceiling mirror in the bedroom. You cringed, closing your eyes at the sight, attempting to cover your midriff with your arms. 
“No, don’t do that,” he whispered in your ear, his hands covering yours and gently pulling them away. “Open your eyes, princess. Trust me.” Uncertainly, you obeyed, opening your eyes, but keeping them on him. “Look at yourself. You are a goddamn goddess and this stomach…” His hands splayed over your skin and you glanced at the mirror, meeting his eyes in it. “This stomach is beautiful. It grew our daughter. It nourished and protected her for nine months. It gave me Cadence. There is not a single part of you that isn’t absolutely perfect to me.”
“Eddie, but I'm not…” 
“Shh,” Eddie soothed, cutting you off. His tongue darted out, slipping along the side of your neck and you gasped, heading falling back against him. “Let me worship you like the goddess you are.”
His lips pressed against the skin of your neck, your shoulder. When his teeth joined in, nibbling the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, you thought your legs would give out from under you. His fingers expertly released the clasp of your bra and it guided it down your arms until it fell to the floor. As his mouth continued torturing you with nips, licks, and kisses, his hands cupped your breasts, not squeezing, just holding them, being tender in knowing how sore they could be from breastfeeding. 
“You are gorgeous,” he whispered, his hand sliding down your stomach, slipping under your sweats and panties. A low groan fell from his lips when his fingers found your heat. “Fuck. You’re already so wet. I’ve missed you…I’ve missed this, so fucking much.”
He moved around to the front of you, guiding you back on the bed so your legs were dangling off the side. His hands pulled your sweats and panties off in one smooth movement and he threw them across the room. Kneeling down in front of you, he hitched your legs over his shoulders, putting you on full display for him. 
“I love you,” he growled, lips pressing along your inner thighs. “I love every goddamn inch of this body. I am going to show you just how much.”
Then his tongue ran through your folds, from your entrance to your clit and back again. You keened, back arching at the contact, the touch your body had been craving for weeks. Eddie’s hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he expertly worked his tongue over you. Fuck, the things this man could do. It was like your body had forgotten, had fallen into a deep coma, and suddenly with one touch it was brought to life again. 
“Eddie…shit…” you panted, all concerns about your body and how it looked vanished from your mind as he sent you skyrocketing to the edge of oblivion. “Oh baby, yes…right there. Oh fuck, don’t stop.”
“Didn’t plan on it, princess,” he growled as you gripped his hair tightly in your fingers, grinding yourself against his face. He moaned against you and the feeling of it sent shockwaves of pleasure through you. 
Just when you thought this moment couldn’t be any better, Eddie plunged two fingers into you, adeptly twisting them so they instantly hit that pleasure button within you. Fingers grasping the sheets, you screeched, arching up off the bed. 
“Shh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, lapping circles around your clit, “don’t want to ruin our fun by waking up Cadence.”
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. Fuck, it was so hard to control your volume when he was so expertly sending you towards orgasm. You felt it coming as your stomach knotted, your legs quivered, muscles tensing. You tightened your thighs around his head, biting down on your knuckles as your hips rocked against him desperately. 
“That’s it sweetheart. Let it all go. You deserve this,” he urged, before sucking your clit between his lips like it was a hard candy. 
Your eyes rolled into your head as you bit down so hard on your knuckles that you broke the skin, pathetic whimpers and moans releasing from your body, sounds you couldn’t even describe if you tried. A half squeak, half shriek exploded from you as your orgasm came crashing like a tidal wave. You gripped Eddie’s hair with one hand, holding his face against you as you rode it out. 
Slowly coming down, he pressed a kiss to your center that had you whimpering before those lips began tracing along every inch of your body, not a single bit of skin left untouched. He kissed the tops of your feet, your skins, your knees, your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, your neck, before finally making his way back to your lips. You were a gasping, writhing mess beneath him, his mouth already setting a new fire ablaze in you before the first had completely extinguished.
“Goddamn, you are exquisite,” he said, running the back of his hand along your cheek. “You are so fucking perfect.” His arms wrapped around you, flipping you both so you were on top of him. “I want you to ride me, princess. I want to watch you, every single inch of you.”
“Eddie…” you began to protest but he pressed his finger against your lips, raising his eyebrows. 
“Uh-uh,” he insisted, shaking his head. “No more negative talk about yourself. No more mean thoughts about yourself. You are a knockout. You are strong. You are bad-ass. You are a mother. You are perfect and you are mine. I love every single inch of you and I want to see every single inch of you. Get out of your head and just be here with me, princess.”
You swallowed hard, nodding. You could do this. You wanted to do this. You wanted to let it all go, all the toxic shit that had been poisoning your mind and heart, and just be with him. Undoing his pants, Eddie lifted his hips, and you helped him pull them off. You placed one knee on either side of his hips as he held his cock in his hand and guided it within you. You lowered your hips until they were flush against his and you both groaned at the feel of him buried within you, something you’d both been craving for too damn long. 
“Jesus,” he hissed, his hands resting on your hips. “I’ve missed being inside you. You were fucking made for me, do you know that?”
You nodded, slowly rocking your hips forward and backward, causing him to hit that delicious spot all over again. You bit your lip, reminding yourself that you had to control your volume, something the two of you had never had to worry about before. Eddie’s hands slid up, gripping the sides of your waist and you paused, but only for a moment, before continuing to move against him. He loved you. He wanted you. You had to stop obsessing and just be in the moment with this beautiful man, this man you adored more than anything on this planet, Cadence excluded of course.
Your head fell back, hair draping down your back as you lost yourself in the sensation of the two of you becoming one, the two of you connected in a way you hadn’t been in too long. This right here, this had always been perfection with Eddie. You’d heard other girls talk about how the sex fizzled out, wasn’t as exciting, but seven years later, nothing about her desire for him had languished, it had only intensified. Seeing him as a father had just made him even more sexy. Seeing how much he loved your daughter was the greatest aphrodisiac. It had only been medical necessity and then your own insecurities that had hindered it, but right now, you were remembering all of the reasons you needed to let it go. You begin moving your hips in a circular motion and Eddie gasped at the new sensation.
“Fuck baby, that’s so good,” he murmured, eyes devouring you. One of his hands glided along your stomach, in between your breasts, resting on your throat. “You look like goddamn Sune right now, goddess of love and light…just fucking gorgeous.”
If you weren’t lost in the throes of pleasure, you would have laughed. Of course he would compare you to a DnD character. Damn, you loved that the nerd you fell in love with was still in there. He hadn’t lost himself to the fame and celebrity that came with his rockstar lifestyle. At his core, he was still just your Eddie. 
“Come here,” he urged, hands wrapping around you and pulling you down to his chest, crushing you against him as close as he could. He began to thrust his hips upward and you bit down on the flesh of his shoulder to keep from screaming in pleasure. He growled against your ear, one hand cradling your head, the other around your back. “Fuck baby, I am so close.”
“Me too…I…Eddie!” you screamed, gripping his shoulders for dear life as he plunged into you again and again, your orgasm shuddering through you. As your walls pulled tightly around him, he wasn’t long to follow, gripping you to him as he held himself within you, filling you with his release. 
You felt when his muscles relaxed, his body going slack beneath you. Eddie continued to hold you to him, moaning softly with gratification as he kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips. You looked up to see him looking at you, a sleep, satisfied smile on his lips. Your hand came up to rest on his cheek as you tucked yourself against him, burrowing into your own personal safe space.
“Jesus…” he muttered with a low chuckle. “That was goddamn amazing. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you,” you stated, kissing his chest. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so distant during this trip. I’ve missed you so damn much and I feel like I’ve wasted our time together.”
“So, don’t go,” Eddie insisted. “What’s the rush? You can stay as long as you want.” You opened your mouth but he stopped you. “Look, I know the road is not a normal life for a baby. I’m aware of that. I get all your reasons but we’re not normal, sweetheart. We’re far from it. We have plenty of people on this tour to help. I miss you and Cadence so much. When you’re not with me, there’s just this hole…I’m not complete when you’re not here. I’m not happy. I’m not myself. Everyone notices it. Just, promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”
“There’s nothing to think about,” you said and his face fell, all hope vanishing instantly. Reaching out, you took his face in his hands, bringing his eyes back to yours. “There’s nothing to think about because I was already going to say that I think we should try it. I miss you too. I am miserable without you and Cadence needs her daddy. I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to this and I am willing to give it a try.”
Eddie’s entire face lit up, those sweet simple appearing in his cheeks, his eyes like melted chocolate, so soft and warm as he pressed his lips to yours for a deep, gentle kiss.
“Yeah? You’re going to come on the road with me?”
“Baby, I would go anywhere with you. You’re my home, not some walls and a roof, just you,” you replied. 
“You have no idea how happy you…”
You were cut off as the sound of Cadence’s cries shattered the quiet of the hotel room. Sighing, you went to get up but Eddie stopped you, gently pushing you back to the bed.
“I’ve got her. There’s still bottles you pumped in the fridge. You get some sleep.” Leaning over, he kissed your forehead. “Let me do my job. And hey, I have to thank my daughter. At least she let her dad finish before interrupting.”
You laughed, burrowing down in the bed as you watched him pull on some sweats and head out of the room. This was going to be good. Everything was going to be okay. You knew if anyone could make this work, it was the two of you.
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eiightysixbaby · 1 year
Text
i've got you under my skin now
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word count: 2.9k
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!fem!reader
warnings: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT. kind of asshole!eddie but he's really just a moody baby, oral (m receiving), masturbation, reader and eddie argue but everything is consensual, really just absolute filth with a plot.
summary: you're an up-and-coming musician in the rock scene and have been asked to join corroded coffin on a song. only thing is, their singer - eddie munson - proves to be challenging to collaborate with.
author's note: my first lengthier work so sorry in advance if there are errors! this is a daisy jones and the six inspired one-shot, and for the sake of this fic i directly reference the title and lyrics of the song 'honeycomb' from the tv show - but you really don't need to know the book/show to understand. ok anyways hope u all like it and here u go @taintedcigs i know u've been waiting for this one em i hope u love it!!
“Honestly Eddie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not listening to your little rockstar tantrum. She’s coming in, and she’s joining you on the song. That’s final.”
Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.
Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.
“Tom, you don’t fucking get it man. Clearly. My song is perfect. What do we need her for? She doesn’t even have an album out, she’s made no name for herself. She’s going to ruin Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continues pestering, despite Tom’s insistence against it.
“No, Eddie, see that’s where you’re wrong. You wrote a good song man, okay? A good song. But just a good song. She could make it great. You haven’t heard her sing like I have. She has real talent.”
Eddie scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Oh a good song, huh? But you said the label liked it. Why change it?”
Tom sighs, taking a step towards Eddie. “The label didn’t dig the song… okay? They said it needs more, otherwise they’re gonna pass on it.”
“So you fuckin’ lied man, fuck-“ Eddie grits his teeth. “Fine, whatever, she’s gonna sing on the song with me. But that’s it.” Eddie grumbles, storming out of the small room.
•••
“He doesn’t get it, guys, he doesn’t fucking get it!” Eddie yells. “This is my song. My fucking baby. And this... bitch is gonna come in here and destroy it. I don’t need her singing on the song - I don’t need anyone to make my music ‘better’” he spits.
The thing is, things have always gone Eddie’s way since Corroded Coffin gained traction in the music world. Eddie writes the songs, Eddie dictates which songs go on the album, so on and so forth. This makes sense to Eddie, and if you ask him, he’s being completely fair to the rest of the guys in the band. ‘Of course I let them have a say in things. I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard - it’s a fair process around here.’ It’s only natural that he can’t handle the idea of someone else singing on his song. Eddie is always the one singing, save for Gareth and Jeff doing backing vocals.
Eddie thrives off of being liked. The way the fans hang onto every word he sings- it’s electric to him. He’s addicted to the way people adore him. And he’d never admit it to anybody… but he’s nervous you might just show him up, and then *poof* no one cares about him anymore.
“Come on, Eddie. Ease up a little! This could be fun, you never know.” Gareth says, following Eddie back and forth as he paces the recording studio.
“I give you like, 20 minutes before you’re in love with her… or bending her over a table.” Jeff interjects, screeching when Gareth throws a drumstick at him to shut him up.
Eddie can’t get a rebuttal in before the door swings open. Tom walks in trailed by a young woman. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie’s ever see- nope. Nope. Not going there. What was that?
“Guys. This is Y/N, as I’m sure you could guess. She’s here to record ‘Honeycomb’ with us today.” Tom smiles politely at the group, jolting Eddie from his thoughts.
“Y/N, hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Gareth, this is Jeff, Greg, and I’m sure you know Eddie - the star of the show.” Gareth goes around the room, pointing at all of the guys.
You meet Eddie’s gaze as Gareth talks, and your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you know who Eddie is- you’ve seen him on magazine covers and in interviews. You’ve always thought he was alluring, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Long, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Tattoos trailing up his arms and chains around his neck. His signature ripped black skinny jeans that hug him so well in all the right places… fuck. Focus. You are not here to sleep with Eddie Munson. You redirect your attention to Gareth as he finishes speaking.
The rest of the guys all greet you warmly - except Eddie, you notice - who gives you a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.
You walk straight up to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Eddie. Thank you so much for letting me be on the song - seriously, it means the world.” You say, exaggerating sincerity a little.
Eddie reluctantly shakes your hand. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”
He walks away to set up a microphone before he can think too hard about the way his heart pounded as your hands touched.
•••
The recording session starts, and take one of the song has begun. You insisted on using the same mic as Eddie, who begrudgingly allowed you to stand beside him, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. The contact sends chills down his spine. Eddie sings the first lines confidently into the mic, not making eye contact with you. Tom, along with the rest of the band watch the two of you intently from the sound booth. Honestly, Eddie has to admit everything is going smoothly. That is, until the chorus starts. Eddie sings one lyric into the microphone… and you sing a different one.
“Woah, woah, okay, stop!” Eddie yells to Tom to cut the track, pulling the clunky headphones off of his head. “Those aren’t the lyrics, what are you doing?” He’s turned to face you, incredulous.
“Um I- I’m sorry, did he not get my version? Does he not know?” You say, avoiding eye contact with Eddie to level with Tom.
“Your version!? This is my song- you are here to sing on my song. Not to rewrite the damn song!” Eddie hisses, throwing his hands in the air.
“No, darling, I’m here to make your song better. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” You narrow your eyes at him, a syrupy sweet smile on your face.
Eddie’s face is burning, his whole body is burning. You weren’t supposed to write new lyrics. This is not happening. And for the love of god stop staring at her lips, Eddie.
“Eddie, uh, let’s give her version a shot, yeah?” Tom says, framing it like a question, but Eddie knows he doesn’t really have a choice.
The track starts from the top again, and Eddie finds that his hands are trembling as he holds your songbook. He sings the lyrics as you have written them, and his stomach sinks as he does it. He hates that you’ve changed his perfect song. He hates that he was made to look like an idiot because Tom didn’t tell him you had rewritten anything. And most of all, he hates that he can hear how good your voices sound together. He hates that he thinks he’d like to hear the sound of your voice for the rest of his life, on the rest of his songs.
“Oooh, we could make a good thing bad,” the two of you sing out in unison, and the song ends.
Eddie stares at you and you stare at him, chest heaving and absolutely beaming. The rest of the band are looking at the two of you in awe from the sound booth. Eddie can’t bring himself to smile, can’t bring himself to let you know that he thinks you really might have made his song better. Can’t face you while his mind races with thoughts of grabbing your face and kissing you. Instead, he hands you your lyric book and hurries out of the studio.
You excuse yourself to the group amid their praises and follow him out the large wooden doors. You’re surprised to find the lobby empty, but then you hear noise coming from down the hall. Walking over to a small closet, you peer in and see Eddie in the dim light, leaning against the wall, hands covering his face and his head tipped back.
“Eddie, what was up with that?” You ask him gently, closing the closet door behind you for privacy. “I thought we sounded great.”
“You rewrote my fucking song!” He booms over you. “That wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to sing on it with me and that would be that.” He’s stepped towards you, leaving little room between the two of you in the already-cramped closet.
“It’s not my fault Tom didn’t tell you I changed some of the lyrics, okay? I didn’t expect you to be blindsided like that. But you could’ve been more mature about it!” You defend.
“Who the hell do you think you are? No- seriously, tell me. Corroded Coffin has worked so hard to make a name for ourselves. I have worked so hard. And you just waltz in here like you own the place? What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s words come out sharp, bitter, but there’s an emotion behind his eyes you can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe.
“Oh get your head out of your ass already, Eddie! I made your song better! We sounded fucking amazing together- the label might actually want it now!” You’re screaming back at him at this point, heat rising in your face as he steps impossibly closer to you. “And don’t even get me fucking started on the Corroded Coffin bullshit. Do you even give the other guys a say in what happens in this band? Cause you seem like a big cocky crybaby who always gets his way. I may not be rich and famous like you are but at least I’m not a fucking prick!” You’re seething, and you press your hands to his chest in an attempt to shove him backwards.
Eddie stops you, though, grabs you by the wrists. Firmly, but not hurting. His huge brown eyes haven’t stopped boring into yours. He thinks his heart might sprout wings and fly out of his chest. He thinks he might hate himself forever if he doesn’t get to have more of you.
“What- now you’re speechless? Don’t have anything to s-“ Eddie cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours like his life suddenly depends on it. Maybe it does.
You’re caught off guard, frozen in place for only a second until you kiss him back, pushing him up against the shelves behind him. His hands leave your wrists and hastily scour your body. You’d think he was a man starved the way he grips at your hips, lips basically devouring yours all the while. Eddie gasps as you lean down to his neck, sucking red and purple marks onto the skin that Jeff is definitely going to mock him for later. He can’t bring himself to care. He grabs your face in his hands to meet your lips once again, needing more.
“You wanna know something, Y/N?” Eddie says between kisses, moving down to nip at your neck. “I can’t fucking stand the way you came in here so confidently today-“ another kiss to your neck. “The way you came right up and sang into the same mic as me instead of using your own, like you just own the whole room-“ another kiss, and another “I can’t stand the fact that your lyrics are better than mine- that maybe you made 'Honeycomb' something I couldn’t make it,” he’s talking through gritted teeth, agitated and yet completely enamored with you. “I hate that the entire time I was watching you sing, I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock..”
Before you can respond, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, pushing you against the opposite wall of the closet, taking control.
“I think you’re absolutely insufferable and immature” you breathe out, pulling his hair out of its ponytail so you can run your fingers through it.
He lets out a breathy chuckle, but it’s arrogant, smug. “You can spit whatever insults you like, sweetheart, but you’re absolutely soaked right now.” He gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he does. His fingers had slipped inside the waistband of your pants, and are now circling the lace fabric of your panties.
You feel yourself clench around nothing as his fingers tease your core. You let out an involuntary moan, rutting your hips down against his touch. He gets the hint and shimmies your jeans down your legs, and you slip out of them after quickly taking your shoes off. You meet his gaze again as he tugs his jeans down slightly, pulling his cock free from the thin fabric of his boxers.
And - oh my god - he’s fucking huge. Thick and long with a dripping pink tip. You swallow, hard, and you swear you feel your mouth start to water. Suddenly you can’t figure out how you’ve survived this long without him, and you certainly won’t be able to after this.
“Get on your fucking knees, babydoll” he purrs, lips inches away from your ear.
You oblige, of course, settling yourself so that your pussy rests on the toe of his combat boot, aching for whatever friction you can get. You take his cock into your mouth without further instruction from the rockstar, and he inhales sharply above you.
“Fuck, baby, shit-“ Eddie groans, collecting your hair in one of his hands and tugging, his cock twitching slightly in your mouth.
“What, big shot, can’t handle it? Should I tell the press that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin comes three seconds into a blowjob?” you tease him, but you can’t ignore the way your head spins at his praise.
“Shut up and fucking suck it, sweetheart- I can handle it.” He hisses.
You don't need further instruction. Your tongue works on his cock, licking a stripe up his length and then kitten-licking the tip. Eddie’s seeing stars as you engulf him entirely in your mouth once again. You go at it for a while before he feels you rutting yourself against his boot.
His laugh is devious, wicked. “So desperate for me huh, sweet thing? Gonna get yourself off while you suck my cock, baby?”
You want to retaliate, taunt him back, do anything to make yourself seem like more than a pathetic fucking whore for him, but you’re dripping through your panties and the friction is so, so delicious you can’t stop your movements. Warmth is beginning to pool in your stomach and you need this release. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, his tip practically nudging the back of your throat, gagging around him. Eddie thinks he might die, seriously, this is it for him. ‘Rockstar Dies In Supply Closet With His Dick Out’ he can see the tabloid headlines now. He tugs your hair and holds your head still as he starts to fuck into your mouth, reveling in the moans and mewls you let out beneath him.
“Shit, sweetheart, you feel s’fucking good around my dick-" he grunts, throwing his head back as he picks up his pace. "Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweet girl. I know you need more." He says roughly.
You happily let him throat-fuck you as you tug your panties down slightly, bringing a hand down to allow your fingers to rub harsh circles into your clit. You feel yourself getting closer, a coil tightening more more more as he fucks into the heat of your mouth. You can sense his movements getting erratic, and you glance up to look at his face. He's delirious, so fucked out, and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle right here at his feet as you watch him.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, sweetheart, shit- you want it in your mouth?” He asks you, brown eyes blown out wide as he awaits your response.
You nod, mouth too full of him to speak, and you squeeze his heavy balls in your free hand as he thrusts faster faster faster into your mouth. He lets out a strangled moan as his cock twitches, ropes of hot cum coating your tongue. You quicken your pace on your aching clit and it doesn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap. You cum all over your fingers and Eddie's boot that still rests beneath you, as he finishes riding out his high above you. He watches you as you swallow his load and he silently swears to himself he’ll do whatever he can to have you like this more often.
“Fuck, baby, you soaked my shoes huh? You okay?” He asks you tenderly, grabbing your arms to pick you up off the floor and steady your shaking frame. You nod, collapsing against him, head pressed to his chest. The two of you stay like that for a while, listening to each others heavy breaths before Eddie finally breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry for being a dick about having you on the song, okay?” He says, his voice softer and far more unsure than you've ever heard it. “You made it better- I really fucking mean that.”
“I know I did.” you reply, shifting to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “A few more rounds of this," you gesture around the two of you, "and I think you’ll have made it up to me” you smirk at him.
“Alright, sweetheart, same place same time tomorrow?” Eddie teases, and you laugh. That’s a sound he thinks he could get used to.
•••
When the two of you walk back into the recording room, Eddie's neck littered with hickeys and mascara smudged around your eyes, no one says a damn word.
"'Honeycomb' take three anyone?" Eddie asks.
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months
Note
How would Steddie act when one is loopy after surgery and being put to sleep?
Personally I picture Steve being all "Wait, this Rockstar Sex God is my partner? How the fuck did I manage that? If my head game that good?"
❤️🖤❤️🖤
There are endless possibilities here
Okay picture this with me: Steve is getting his appendix out (“wish the bats had just taken that instead of a chunk of my good side”) and it’s such a minor surgery but he’s like convinced this is the end for him. The man’s practically been almost dead multiple times and this very controlled environment with professionals is what’s gonna take him out. Anyways the following conversation happens when he wakes up from surgery:
“Hey, sweetheart. Welcome back.”
“Where’d I go? Who’re you? Where am I? Who am I?”
“It’s gonna take a minute for you to wake up all the way so just wait for me, baby love.”
“Okay but who are you?”
“Eddie. Your fiancé.”
“I’m engaged? To you?”
“Yeah. I asked you a couple years ago and you said yes.”
“But we aren’t married yet? What am I waiting on?”
“It’s not legal, sweetheart.”
“I’ll make it legal. I can be the president and do it.”
“Sure you can.”
“And then I’ll make it illegal for you to divorce me because you’re too hot to leave me.”
“Okay, Henry VIII.”
“Who is he? Is he a friend?”
“Never mind. Why don’t you just rest and we can talk in a bit?”
“You’ll stay?”
“Of course.”
“And you won’t go talk to Henry?”
“No, Stevie, I’ll stay right here with you. Always.”
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oneforthemunny · 11 months
Text
shot through the heart |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|
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prompt: eddie and you make a bet playing darts one night at the hideout. loser gives the other head.
contains: sexual themes 18+ MINORS DNI. oral male rec, a little fem rec at the end. overall filth.
Eddie sat at the bar, still in black but not in his usual work attire. Joey had agreed to let Corroded Coffin play tonight, a Thursday night slot, but the crowd was bigger than the usual Tuesday. Drunk teenagers with their fakes screaming and dancing over pitchers of beer, to drunk middle aged couples dancing on the sticky dance floor- Eddie wasn't quite sure why they were two stepping to his metal music, but he was fine with it. At least they were engaged and having fun, no pity claps or eye rolls like the Tuesday crowd gave him.
And the best part? There behind the wooden half circle bar, slinging beers, peanuts, collecting tips and taking orders, stood you. In your hair pulled back to he could see your pretty face. He could see you blush when he pointed at you, singing a vulgar, suggestive lyric into the mic. He'd be lying if he said his song writing skills hadn't gotten better since being with you, you were the main inspiration for the crowd favorite original song 'Super Soaker'.
Joey had given them the stage until midnight, when all the shows ended and the bar started to settle until last call. Eddie finished twenty minutes after, an encore from the middle aged woman who kept shoveling tips in jar and screaming out more requests. How could Eddie deny her?
He packed his things in the van, joining his band mates at the bar, where you had pulled up high chairs to the end, just for them. "VIP section, right this way, rockstar." You purred, a dazzling smile that had Eddie weak at his knees, when you pointed to the end.
You brought them rounds of beers and celebratory shots, talent was always on the house. "You guys did so good!" You cheered, setting down the shots of Jameson in front of them.
"Thanks, baby," Eddie grinned. "Couldn't have done it without my main muse." He winked, the guys snickering around him.
You rolled your eyes despite the blush that heated your cheeks. "Well, let me know if I can get you anything, ok? I'll make sure my service is up to your superstar standards." You quipped, brow raising teasingly,
Eddie's eyes trailed on the sway of your hips, dick jumping at the thought. He felt electrified, buzzing and jittery with post show adrenaline. The last time he'd played, he'd told you to go on your break, fucking you outside on the back wall, leaving you to go back to work on shaky legs, panties filled with his release for the rest of your shift.
The boys recounted their night, desperate girls crowding them, eyes wide and sugary sweet compliments that had Jeff nervous laughing, flustered and melting at the attention.
Not Eddie, he was too busy watching you, thinking about all the ways he'd have you when you got off. "For song inspiration, of course, baby." He'd always say, like he had to convince you anyways. You'd do anything he wanted.
The bar died down before last call around two, everyone drunk and tired, fumbling out to hook up or pass out. Eddie looked over, Gareth and Jeff had moved into the corner booth with two girls, desperately trying to woo them. Eddie scoffed, shaking his head, pressing the bottle to his lips.
You wiped down the bar, smiling and thanking a leaving customer with your perfect, polite tone. No wonder the Hideout thought you were their golden girl, you were. You were Eddie's too, the closest he'd get to a garden of Eden he was sure.
"Can I get you anything else, rockstar?" You grinned, elbows pressing against the bar, leaning across the sticky wood towards him. His eyes trailed down to your low cut Hideout shirt, a t-shirt you'd cut to make sexier- better for tips.
Eddie snorted, shaking his head. "Hey, Ellen," He called to the manager behind the bar, picking up receipts. "Can I borrow this one for a sec?"
Ellen shrugged, looking at Valerie, the other bartender. Valerie smiled at you, waving her hand. "I got it," She reassured, motioning to the two stragglers at the bar, hunched over their booze and dazing off.
You thanked her, pushing through the low side door of the bar. "Just call for me if you need anything, Val." You said, looking at Eddie expectantly. "How can I be of service?" You asked playfully, low, batting your eyes up at him.
Eddie's cock lurched, tight and uncomfortable against his ripped jeans. He smirked, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek.
Eddie nodded over to the dart board. "You played before?" He asked, but he knew the answer.
Of course you'd played before, you and him rotated from the pool tables to the dart boards on slow nights when it was just the two of you.
You rolled your eyes, scoffing. "No, never," You said sarcastically, bumping your hip to his. "Will you show me?" You flirted.
Eddie grit his teeth, salacious grin looking down at you. "C'mon," He slipped his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, smirking at your squeal. "Let's play a few rounds."
The two of you took turns throwing the arrows towards the worn and battered bullseye. You extended your arm, lining it up down the top fin, just like Eddie taught you. His chest swelled with pride when he watched you, nose scrunched in concentration, one eye shut before sending it sailing, flying towards the center.
Eddie clapped, smiling at you. "Good throw," He said, picking up his own darts. He was red, you were green; always.
"Wanna make this more interesting?" Eddie asked, looking around carefully, his voice dropping as he lined up his own shot.
You smirked, leaning against the table with already stacked chairs. "Yeah?"
"Let's make a little wager, how's that sound?" Eddie asked smugly, sending his own dart sailing and sticking against the black outer ring of the bullseye. "You up for a little challenge?"
You scoffed, air blowing out your nose with a shake of your head. "What're you thinking? Gonna bet all my tips or something?" You teased.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "Like I would ever." He muttered, sending another dart sailing, then eyes locking with you. "Just a little bet to make things interesting, hm?"
You lifted a brow, waiting for his proposition. Eddie took a step closer to you, crowding you. "Three rounds. Loser gives the other head." His eyes were dark, shining in a way that had a cold tingle spilling up your spine, thighs clenching.
Your lips twisted, biting back a grin, but you knew he saw it anyways. "Hm, I guess I could afford to bet that much." You matched his playful banter. You picked up your green darts, the tips brown and rusted. "You first?"
Eddie shook his head, bowing dramatically in front of the worn and faded black duct tape 'x' on the ground. "Never. Ladies first."
You stepped on the mark, right foot forward, shifting your weight from your back leg to your front as you lined up your shot, sending it flying, landing on the cushiony material of the target on the second ring, the black slice under the 'twelve'.
You grinned smugly, spinning and stepping out of the way to record your score on the napkin while Eddie lined up his own. Round after round went by, you won the first one with ease- Eddie blamed the shots you'd given him. Eddie won the second by just a few points, grinning smugly.
Ellen and Valerie had gathered by you two, leaning over the rail and watching you intently play. The bar had cleared out before last call, just the sound of the buzzing equipment and the soft playing of the jukebox.
"Oh!" Valerie and Ellen cheered when you landed on the outer ring of the bullseye, dangerously close to the center.
"Wow, not looking good Munson." Ellen joked with a grin. "Hope you didn't wager anything too big."
Eddie's eyes flashed to your knowingly, your skin blistering under his gaze. "Nah, nothing too bad." He smirked, lining up his own shot, heavy boots on the mark.
You drooled as his shirt rode up, showing his inked tummy, hips, the outline of his boxers. He'd discarded his leather jacket, torn and covered in badges, earlier into the game. He knew you liked watching his muscles flex, veins protruding in his forearms under the sketched skin
His tongue poked out in concentration, looking down the slope of his nose before the dart went sailing, landing on the board with a solid 'thud!' and sinking into the worn foam. Eddie turned, smug smile on his face that he was trying to hide, twisting his lips to the side, but you saw how his eyes lit up. Your eyes flickering from his back to the board, red marked dart right in the middle; bullseye.
"Motherfucker..." You muttered, hands on your hips as Valerie and Ellen howled in laughter, clapping and cheering.
"Oh! That was too good!" Valerie cackled. "Time to pay up, girl. Hope it wasn't all your tips from tonight." She winked at Eddie.
You pouted playfully, exaggeratedly to Eddie. "I don't know how but you cheated." You pointed a finger at him.
Eddie laughed. "How?" He shook his head, curly tendrils bouncing with the movement. "Don't be a sore-loser, baby. You lost." He grabbed your waist, making you whine and squirm against his fingers, desperate to hide your smile and keep up your pouty facade.
"Don't you know you're supposed to let the pretty girls beat you, Munson?" Ellen shook her head playfully.
Eddie scoffed. "Where's the fun in that?" He grinned, smacking a kiss to the side of your head. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't count my winnings here. We can settle up back at home." He winked at you, leaving you throbbing and dizzy with what's to come.
Eddie stayed to walk the three of you out, opening the door to his van, smacking your ass playfully when you passed him to climb in. Eddie ducked in, kissing you hard, sloppy and needy. You could taste the whiskey on his breath still.
Eddie started the van, hand on your headrest when he pulled out, snaking his hand down to squeeze your cheeks together. "You ready to pay up when we get home?" Eddie smirked.
You blushed, turning your head to hide how flustered he made you, but he didn't miss the way your thighs squeezed shut at his words. "I still think you cheated." You jested, eyes rolling over to him.
Eddie scoffed, hand on your thigh, running his hand up the soft denim of your jeans, pinky trailing dangerously close to your core, leaving you shivering. "Psh, I won fair and square, sweetheart." He looked at you knowingly.
Twenty minutes later you were on your knees at Eddie's trailer, scratchy, green carpet rubbing uncomfortably against your knees. Eddie stripped you the second you walked in, clothes scattered and thrown in all directions, until you were naked, bare in front of him.
He sat on the couch, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, thick thighs spread with his cock angry and flushed against his belly, tip leaking and smearing onto his happy trail.
"Pay up, baby." Eddie grinned, taking a rather long exhale, embers crackling and falling from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours, stroking himself lazily.
He reached out for your hand, spitting a fat glob onto your palm, before leaning back, nodding towards his throbbing cock. You pumped him slow at first, squeezing his shaft with just the right amount of pressure, spreading his spit all over his cock. Thumb spreading and rubbing small circles over his head, gathering the leaking release to spread down his cock with every flick of your wrist.
Eddie watched you through heavy, half lidded eyes, flicking his ash into the tray, free hand reaching to wrap around your ponytail, falling and messy from your shift. You looked at him when you shimmied forward, eyes locking with him while you licked a strip on the underside of his cock, swirling your little tongue around his head.
Eddie swallowed hard, trapped moan in his throat, clenching his thighs and hips to keep from bucking at the sensation, especially when you cupped his sac, squeezing it just right, his cock throbbing and lurching when you swallowed him.
Your eyes stayed on him, trained to his face- just like he taught you. How he liked it. Eddie wanted to kiss you, cover you in sweet kisses and praises, and he would've if you weren't making him feel so good. He would later, when he worked you open with his tongue until you cried, pathetic and whiny at his mercy.
"Fuck, baby, yes, just like that," Eddie rasped, bumming the cigarette into the tray. His free hand cupped your hollowed cheek, eyes lust blown and meeting yours. "Good girl. Such a good girl f'me, aren't you?"
You moaned at his praise, vibrations sending electricity through his cock straight to his tummy where the pleasure had been building. Eddie sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, jaw gritting to keep from thrusting into the back of your throat.
"Go a little further. Yeah, sit up just a little higher, and- oh!" Eddie groaned, loud and head falling back. The kind of moans that you only heard in the X-rated films he'd rent and the two of you would watch together. Exaggerated, deep, and encouraging, leaving you blushing and determined. You wanted to hear that again, and again, and again for the rest of your life; make him feel good for the rest of your life.
You could feel your slick spreading between your thighs, achy and desperate for relief, to be touched. You clenched, shifting the heel of your foot as best as you could towards your throbbing center, rubbing and rocking on it for some relief.
Normally, Eddie would reprimand you for such a thing, but he was too wrapped up in the way your mouth felt around him. Your free hand squeezing and flicking your wrist up his shaft, tongue swirling and giving kitten licks to his head, other hand squeezing his balls.
You rocked lightly, eye lids fluttering when your heel brushed against your clit, Eddie's hand wrapping around your ponytail while you bobbed up and down, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth and leaving strings attached to his cock.
You could feel his abs clench, finger tightening around your hair, scalp tingling and burning with the pull. You felt his balls tighten, pulling up, cock twitching in your mouth. You looked back up at him, eyes round, awaiting his instructions.
Eddie's eyes were fluttered close, head tilted back, hips raising while his broken, breathy moans filled the room. Your jaw ached but you continued to suck him, squeezing his shaft harder and suckling against the head until hot spurts fell onto your tongue, gathering and filling with every shuddering breath he took.
Eddie's chest heaved, looking down at you through glazed eyes, shadowed by his thick, dark lashes. "Fuck, baby, s'good. Was s'good." He rasped, hands tightening out of your hair, feather light touch traveling down to your jaw, tilting your chin up to him.
"You didn't swallow did you?" You shook your head obediently, and Eddie beamed. "Good girl. Open up, show me."
You opened slowly, filling his thick, creamy release slide back your throat, lifting your tongue to stop it. Eddie grinned, mouth full of him, slobbering and dribbling down your chin. He nodded. "Swallow. Good girl. Very good." He purred, watching your gulp him down before his lips were on yours.
You shifted up into his kiss, hands on his hair thigh, pressed do closely to him as you could, dizzy with his praises and the way his mouth was exploring yours. He could tase himself, salty and bitter on your tongue. It made his limp cock lurch, hot pleasure still pulsating in his lower belly.
Eddie pulled you up gently by the back of your neck, his lips still on yours, hands on your waist, walking you in a clumsy sort of waltz back to his room. You fell on the bed with a small sigh, Eddie's hands strong and gripping your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.
He kept his eyes on yours, pushing his hair behind his ear before kneeling down onto the mattress, your knees by his ears over his shoulders, body raised off the bed steadied by his hands that gripped your hips and held you in place.
Eddie was salivating, licking his lips as he looked at your puffy lips, glistening and already coating the inside of your thighs with your arousal. Eddie placed a kiss to your mound, right above your clit. You shimmied your hips closer, whining and mewling for more, uncomfortable with the angle he had you in, but you wouldn't dare complain. Not when he was about to use his tongue on you.
"I think it's only fair that I show good sportsmanship, don't you?" Eddie teased wickedly, his breath tickling your sopping folds, sending shivers down your spine.
"Your turn, baby." He grinned salaciously, eyes narrowed and dark on you before his tongue was working you open, sucking and licking you until you were screaming, crying, and begging for more.
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draculaxias · 20 days
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more rockstar! zoya hcs pleaseeee 🥺🥺
.. ❝ 𝚁𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛! 𝚉𝚘𝚢𝚊❞ .. more hcs for my rockstar Zoya au! Here is part one.
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Apart from being the leader of the most famous band, she is such a gym bro… Not to an overly obsessed level but she enjoys working out, and while doing so she will replay music made by The Legion; she is so proud of hers and everybody’s work.
Isn’t afraid to call out problematic artists, like I previously mentioned; she has BEEF on Twitter with others. However she is just being honest and what’s the wrong in that?
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She brags about you to the crowed. She calls you her “smoking hot wife” in front of them, you may correct her saying you’re not her wife but she’ll reply with a “yet” or “let’s change that” :p
Hot wife x Hot wife
She takes care of her guitar like it’s her baby, and it is! She cleans it regularly, like once a week. If someone touches it she will rip their hand apart— unless it’s you, if it’s you she will be staring at you to make sure you don’t somehow destroy it.
If you’re interested she will buy you an electric guitar! She is more than happy to teach you how to play it, and that also means getting to see the way she works with her fingers up close (AHEM)
If you wanna join The Legion you are welcomed with open arms.
I’m sorry but I also hc her music sometimes sounding like something a divorced dad would hear—
Went performing with hickeys on her neck, from who? …. Let’s just say you and her had some fun.
Not even an exaggeration, if you are in the crowd she will be looking for you, and the moment she does her staring won’t go away; literally eye-fucking you during the concert PLEASE.
Sends you pictures of her huskies wearing dark tinted glassed randomly. She will just reply with “They’re trying to be cool like their mama Zoya”.
Oh yeah… One of them pissed on her fur coat, her favorite, fur coat.
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She was grumpy for a whole month, saying how the fur coat was from an original collection that is discontinued. She’s so dramatic about it it’s not like it got stained or got ripped
How yeah small story time about how you two started dating, she didn’t even ask if you wanted to be her girlfriend. You were just a fan of hers then somehow managed to become her friend.
Once night you two decided to walk for a bit, breath in some fresh air and enjoy the peacefulness. Until she just.. Randomly kissed you out of the blue. She just shrugged it off saying it was “only a kiss” and you believed her. You knew you weren’t the only one she has kissed, she has kissed many of her fans without any romantic intentions.
Truthfully, she just didn’t know how to confess, she wasn’t so into romance; she was the type to find it “gross” and “weird”. Or really, she was just not sure— so she made it seem like her actions had no meaning behind them.
But of course, at some point she couldn’t help but get everything out of her chest and talk to you about the kiss she gave you weeks ago. Telling you how maybe; she has fallen for you.
Anyway, Zoya is NOT the only one getting edited, but also you! She has a folder full of downloaded edit videos her fans made. Sometimes even commenting on them~
@____: GODDAMN IDK IF I WANNA BE Y/N OR BE WITH Y/N
@____: Brb i’ma steal Zoya’s girl
@Zoya: whoever wins in a fist fight gets my bbg Y/n, meet me at the park in 7:10PM today 😈🙏
@____ replied to @Zoya: GANG WHY WE DOING IT AT THE PARK? THERE’S KIDS IN THERE.
Please visit her while at work, she’s going to be so happy to see you. Although her manager gets annoyed because of how distracted she can get when you’re around, it’s okay she tells them to stfu <33
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zmb1eslut · 20 days
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Masterlist
Luke Castellan singing a birthday song for Dionysus!reader.
gn!reader but the song talks in fem.
warnings: swearing.
Agreed, birthday parties were the second worst kind of parties, just after baby showers, and just as long as they're yours. But even the worst party was still a party and dam you loved those.
Maybe a bit of the attention too.
So it kinda sucked that after putting on your special person suit you got to face a normal routine where no one cared more than the occasional "happy birthday". It was just going to be normal thursday.
Except for Luke, apparently. He entered the dining pavilion at exactly 8:12 AM while you were just sitting down with your breakfast. He had a microphone, connected to a sort of boombox that he just left somewhere in the floor when Charlie came with a guitar and handed it to him.
Saturday mornin' jumped outta bed.
You instantly cringed. Luke didn't even knew how to play guitar (He learnt those chords just for you).
And put my best suit
He even looked so smug about it, looking down at his literally every day clothes.
Got in my car and raced like a jet.
Fuck, he made eye contact with you. You instantly turned around to the side, finding your father on the process, who seemed rather annoyed with the live show. But slowly you couldn't help but look again at his dorky act.
All the way to you.
No. Stop. Stay the fuck there. He was literally walking straight to you. Charlie following him now with the boombox and everyone looking, not quite making fun of him, not quite impressed about it all.
He put his hand on the Dionysus table, and then it dawned on you.
Knocked on your door with heart on my hand.
He wasn't walking towards you.
To ask you a question.
Your godly parent wished, for a moment, he had perished more than centuries ago, afar from the torturous instances that immortality day to day proved to offer.
He groaned and drowned his face on both his palms.
'Cause I know you are an old fashioned man.
There was something about a shameless idiot being able to have such a characteristically attractive smirk on him while performing the most humiliating act of his life, and taking you on his ride with no agreement of sny sort.
Oh, shit. Please don't.
He got on the fucking table.
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?
You could no longer fight it, you started to smile. You could no longer pretend you weren't listening to this song when you were 12, envy of the fact someone loved that way, maybe even hoping to be understood some day. You couldn't pretend you never felt as special as being completely socially annihilated by the cutest swordsman on camp.
Say yes. Say yes, 'cause I need to know.
He was actually really playing into the teenage pop-rockstar choreography and expression, as if it wasn't a terribly sung acoustic cover.
You say I'll never get your blessing 'til the day I die.
Maybe you also loved knowing his reputation was way to good for your father to actually be able to took it out on him and give him a lesson for ruining his morning.
Tough luck my friend but the answer is no!
Some people started to laugh, some people started to cheer him.
Until he stopped, and crouched to give the guitar to Charlie, who handed him the microphone.
"I couldn't learn the chorus for the life of me"
And he played the karaoke version.
Why you gotta be so rude?
Don't you know I'm human too?
Why you gotta be so rude?
I'm gonna marry her anyway.
It was funny in a way because Luke was... not even your boyfriend, or friend for that matter, just a sort of a pleasant stranger. He just greeted you sometimes, helped you a bit on your archery class. He'll sometimes tie your shoes when you didn't wanna bend down, or gave you notes when you were rehearsing for a play. Probably the closer you ever got were those times he would just purposefully mess up your hair when you were chatting with your friends and maybe that one time he... Oh.
I hate to do this, you leave no choice, can’t live without you.
And that's when he finally stopped bothering Mister D, right before looking at you and freezing you on a childish emotion.
Love me or hate me, we will be both standin’ at that altar.
It didn't felt much like a threat. Not even when he pulled you a little closer.
Or we will run away to another galaxy, you know.
Can we? fucking brown eyes taking the best of you.
You know that I am so in love with you, I'll go anywhere you go.
And you realized that's not even how the song goes, before he twirled you around.
Can I just be honest? Have a speck of your time?
Say yes. Say yes. Promise I'll be good.
'Cause really I feel you takin every bit of my mind.
And I must say, I think that it's love.
And he stopped singing, the music kept running for a couple counts more before Charlie turned it off. You were just looking at each other, him being considerably more nervous than you, though he did tried to hide it and you not quite so.
Your silence went for too long and he had to break it first.
"Happy birthday?"
And that made you laugh before you caught him on a giddy hug of excitement. He looked at Charlie from over your shoulder, he couldn't believe that shit actually worked.
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bettysupremacy · 9 months
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Midnight rain | Steve Harrington
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Summary: Steve wants a family and a home with you, but you’re still chasing the fame of being a rockstar.
a/n this is dedicated to all my swifties. i love u. also, i’m incapable of finishing a fic on a sad note. sorry! happy ending.
Lemme know if y’all would want more of this
Request
“One more tour.” You cradle Steve’s fragile face in your warm hands.
Tears run over your fingers, dripping guiltily onto the blanket. He shouldn’t feel like this, and it shouldn’t have been you to make him feel like this. He was sunshine. The sight has your heart in pieces on the comforter between you.
“One more tour,” you whisper. “And then It’s you and me.”
He shakes his head. “I want that now.”
You know he isn’t blaming you for his hurt, but it gnaws at you anyways. “You know I do too.”
It’s weak, but it’s convincing. And true.
“I know you do.”
Your eyes search for his glassy ones. “But this’ll pay for it. Another tour is a house, more than that.” Fame. You don’t say it.
His chest aches. He knows you’re right, and the thought of ripping you from the very thing you want the most tears him apart. He slides into your arms, needy for affection. Your hand glides from where it cradles his jaw to behind his head, holding under his other ear. It’s an intimate touch that has him hiccuping into your chest.
The gratefulness that he’s this comfortable being vulnerable around you is burdened by your guilt.
You’d had this conversation before. It had started with your confession that he deserves more, and ended with him in tears again because he only wants you. He can’t imagine children with someone who isn’t you.
You’d left it at that. He’d wait, however long it took, and be there when you were ready. He just wish it’d be quicker.
There had been three tours so far. Three sold out worldwide tours that Corroded Coffin had traveled, each one a little more taxing on Steve. He missed you. He didn’t like being apart from you for so long, didn’t like calling you and knowing you were on a pay phone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It was never that. He just missed the intimacy of home life he’d get in between travels.
“Eddie said this album would make the history books.” You whisper. You hate buzzing thrill in your voice. “This tour could mean big things.”
His head doesn’t move from your shoulder, but his arms tighten. “Big things that make the wait longer?”
“Big things that insure our future, Stevie.” You breathe out. “Another tour is the type of money where we’d never have to work again.”
“But you’d miss it.” He shakes his head the most he can. He’s right, you would. He couldn’t do that to you.
This was all you’d ever wanted, and you’d finally gotten it.
“We can still make music, corroded coffin can still make music, and once we’re settled, I don’t see why another tour isn’t possible.”
He sits up out of your hold, imagining this future. Your nimble fingers reach up to wipe over his cheeks, uncaring of the snot the runs.
His breathing is in staggers. “You, me, baby Harrington.”
“Yeah, baby,” Your shoulders shake with soft laughs, a light in the dark atmosphere. “I can still be rockstar with a kid.”
He smiles, pictures of you on stage with a bump flash his mind. “Totally metal to be pregnant.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” You brush his hair from his eyelashes.
He blinks funny because of it. “And I could go with you.”
Your eyes lock. He’s only ever been with you for one. It was too much for him, too much movement. And it’d only been the states.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I’d like that.”
He nods back. He doesn’t want to miss you again. Missing you was the worst ache he’d ever endured. Many sleepless nights, many red eyes.
His tired eyes claw at you.
This argument started at ten and now your bedside clock reads midnight. You hate to even call it that. An argument. He hasn’t tried to stop you, to argue that you shouldn’t go. He’s just upset, rightfully so.
You stretch to your nightstand, pulling the string on your lamp. The room goes dark, silent besides his breathing. Laying down, you give him enough room to lay down beside you, his ear to your heart. Your fingers tangle in his hair. You let the silence envelope you before whispering.
“In two years.. we’ll buy your parents house,”
He nods quietly. “I’ll knock you up.”
Your chest rises in quiet giggles. His mouth turns up at the feeling of it. “You’ll knock me up. She’ll grow up with her uncle Dustin and aunt Robin.”
“She?” His eyes close.
“We’re having a girl.”
“Okay.” He wouldn’t mind being a girl dad.
You scratch his scalp. “She’ll go to Hawkins elementary, tour in the summer.”
He hums.
“It’ll work out.”
“Me and you.” He agrees.
You were midnight rain.
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radisyn · 3 months
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Here is day 3 of @hot-glenn-holidays-2023 - Concert/Carolling. Went with traditional rockstar vibes because... why not? Based on a photo of Hozier I found on Google. I had to compress the file size so I'm not sure how good it will look on tumblr but ah well! I did it anyway.
(in my head he's singing a really ribald Christmas song... just recently saw a good friend sing a Very Suggestively Queer rendition of Santa Baby and idk that could work? weigh in if you feel like it)
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brazilian-whalien52 · 3 months
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10 BL Boys I Want Carnally
I was tagged by @kennyomegasweave ❤️
Honestly thou, what is attraction? What is wanting carnally? Almost no idea but a slight one
1. Porsche from Kinnporsche. Come on, it's impossible to not drool enough to fill a river to Apo
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2. Zhao Yulan from guardian. Him and this smile made to fuck me over, plus the stupid lollipop. Shen, I know why you waited for centuries
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3. Babe from pit babe. Okay, but this choice is not exactly babe but pavel? I had the biggest crush on 2moons and honestly that is my fav but I am too old for that pavel now! Although I loved those fucking tattoos
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4. Kim from Kinnporsche. You know maybe here is my love for Jeff showing because damn he hits hard but also when I look for Kim pictures he is mostly adorable? I am just attract to his cynic baby girls rockstar vibe
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5. Rain from love in the air. He is just so mesmerizing?
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6. Xia Yao from advance bravely. But honestly both leads here are such a big cast... The rain scene was spectacular but I was so obsessed over baby girl Xia Yao that is not even funny. I had a picture I was obsessed that i cant find anymore
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7. Gavreel from Gameboys. Just the way he says baby is my weak spot. My weakest spot is always a pretty smile (see apo above too and others). Nothing can destroy me as much as one and his smile is just...
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8. Pat from Bad Buddy. Funny enough normally not me type but honestly pat is just so charming that he is impossible not to love. If he looks at me like that I feel weak on my knees (anyway why am i lying about type when he also has the prettiest smile)
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9. My personal weatherman. Which one? Well you see i do not know how to explain this. Yoh is just so fluffy and just out of this world and I just want to trace Mizuki moles. Together they are just... Ah
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10. Tharn from tharntype. I know controversial, he fucked up a lot but you don't have all the facts! Facts 👇
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you guys cant believe how face blind i am and the revelation I had doing this. Fucking lord.
Anyway, I had to control myself to not add to many gifs? I want to add more by them become too much. It is all pavel fault!
Is there anybody that hasn't done this challenge yet? It seems like most people had done, if you weren't tag before please feel free to do it. I am tagging @theelast-straw @hyperfocusmadness @jackpoompkin @troubled-mind @telomeke @lookingforshangrila @chocomilkshakeblog @twig-tea because I do not seem to remember they doing it?
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all i can think of is rockstar!bf!eddie munson x gf!bimbo!reader who dresses up as a little bunny for halloween (because one of his nicknames for her is bunny) and he’s just hyping her up.
he’s lying on his bed, smoking a cigarette while some metal music plays in the background, his rings adorning each finger; you also put some eyeliner on because he has a concert tonight at a venue, so he wanted to be extra fancy.. anyway, you show him your outfit and he gasps dramatically (although not really) when you step out from the bathroom, all dressed up. youre giggling and he just says, “show me that little tail, baby!” and you just turn around, wiggling your butt a little (showing the fluffy white ball perched on the top area of your behind). he just whistles and laughs as you wiggle more, “shake it for me, bunny!” and giggles bubble up in your throat as you hop onto his bed, straddling his hips as he takes his free hand and squeezes your little fluffy bunny tail, breathing out some cigarette smoke up in the air as to not get it in your face. it does a little so he just whispers a small, “’m sorry, baby,” as you crinkle your nose a little, before he pulls you down and kisses you, his tongue gliding over yours. you can taste a little bit of the cigarette and mint on his breath, and just.. him. a delicious combo. 
“you gonna be apart of my groupie tonight, bunny?” he says once you both break apart, your head lying on his shoulder as he peers down at you, your bunny ears headband a little ajar on your head. 
you pout, and he absent-mindedly kisses it softly as you say, “’m not apart of them!” (you would get annoyed with the constant wave of girls swarming eddie) i get ta go home with you...” you say shyly, kissing his lips again before kissing his neck softly. 
“your right, baby. an’ you know why?” eddie asks, pulling you up to make you look at him in the eyes. 
“because ‘m yours and you’re mine.” you giggle softly, and he just hums,
“that’s right, baby. you’re my favorite fan. you’re mine and i’m yours.” he kisses your knuckles, his eyes hooded slightly as he looks up at you with love. you blush. 
“love you,” you say softly, and he whispers back, “love you more, baby. i love you so much more... and fuck you look good in this costume. think my band’ll get mad at me for bein’ late, hm?” he pulls you back into a kiss and you giggle, too sick with love to respond. 
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omeganronpa · 9 months
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Up-and-Coming Rockstar- Omega!Shibi Aburame
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A/N: I have never written for Shibi before but I had to for Rockstar!Au. Why are there no Shibi gifs though???? Man is an underrrated DILF. This is very much a lore piece. 
Warnings: character death, murder, baby Shino being the cutest little asshole, mentions of dark histories in the band members’ lives, stick and poke tattooing/unsafe tattooing, talk of grief/unhealthy coping mechanisms.
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Shibi’s heart was full.
Shino sits in your lap, chewing on his tiny fist as he looks around the packed studio. He snatched your sunglasses from your jacket and put them on less than 10 minutes ago, uncaring that they were too big for his tiny head. They sat lopsided on his face as he babbles quietly to himself and watches the production staff run around trying to get everything ready.
You run a hand over his silky brown hair, playing with the thick strands as you speak to the lead singer about something Shibi couldn’t hear. Natsume laughs quietly in response to something you whisper. Shibi’s face reddens at the sound as it thrums under his skin pleasantly. Shino perks up as well, turning his head to look at you.
You shake your head at Natsume, nudging her gently as one of the hair and make-up crew approach, intent on touching up your eyeliner and re-powder your face.
And this, apparently, was something that Shino found to be unacceptable.
Tiny hands try to push the lady away, a tiny stuttering growl coming from the pup when she ignores him and dusts the powder over your nose anyway. Shino whimpers, eyes growing big and wet when you take hold of the eyeliner pen to reapply it yourself.
The moment you press it to your lash line, Shino releases the saddest little ‘no’ that Shibi has ever heard. You pull the pen away from your face, mouth pulling down into a distressed frown.
“No Ap-p-p-p,” Shino repeats, sniffing, “No.”
“Why not Pup?” you coo gently, free hand holding him steady as he rocks his tiny body in protest.
“No-o-o.” 
“You’ve seen me dressed in various horrific costumes, covered in fake gore and blood and missing body parts,” your voice pitches dramatically in an attempt to cheer him up, “but eyeliner is where you draw the line?”
Shino just whimpers, two big fat tears rolling down his chunky cheeks.
“You are breaking my heart baby but okay. No eyeliner for Appa,” you laugh, handing the eyeliner pen back to the makeup artist without touching up, “But tell me this munchkin, how am I supposed to look hot without eyeliner? Huh? How else am I supposed to convince your Oma that he didn’t downgrade if I can’t trick him?”
Shibi roll his eyes behind his own glasses. You were the most attractive Alpha Shibi had ever seen, with and without eyeliner. Even after all these years, he still hasn’t recovered emotionally from how quickly his legs fell open for you when you started courting. 
Shino watches the lady walk away with the eyeliner in hand and when he deems her to be a safe enough distance away, he shoves his fist back into his mouth and goes back to watching the room without a trace of his previous upset.
Natsume laughs as you stare down at your pup in amused bewilderment.  
“I can’t believe I’ve been hoodwinked by my infant,” you huff playfully, leaning into to blow raspberry kisses on your sneaky little baby. Shino smiles happily around his fist even as he squirms away from the sensation.
Shibi is enthralled by the sight. 
Satisfied with his people watching, Shino throws himself back against your belly, looking up at your chin with an intense expression. A production assistant checks over the lighting and motions for your bandmates to turn a little to the side. He continues to gnaw on his fist like it was the best thing he had ever tasted even as you reposition him. 
The interviewer takes a seat to your right. She’s a tall Beta woman with striking eyes and a kind smile that goes by Vivienne. She isn’t dressed in a normal suit, choosing instead to rock her own battle vest and leather pants. A fitting outfit for the audience she is trying to reach today. 
Her assistant brings over a basket, laying it at the base of the couch beside your feet. You give her a thumbs up. Inside, Shibi can see various baby toys that he knew Shino would adore.
A smart idea given that Shino decided to lose his mind for the second time that day.
For a baby who wanted nothing to do with people, he refused to be left out of the action when Appa was working. So much so that he was willing to break his stoicism and quiet reputation to scream with every ounce of his strong baby lungs when you tried to leave him in his pen in the dressing room. In the 11 months since he was born, not once has he ever made a noise quite as awful.
But there is a first time for everything.
“Are you sure its okay for him to be here?” you ask without looking at her, smiling as your son switches from munching on his own fingers to yours. He has a few teeth but they were all on the side he wasn’t using to munch so it didn’t hurt.
It was just...slimy.
“Oh absolutely,” the interviewer reassures, her smile big and bright as she watches your baby, “People have been chomping at the bit to get a glimpse of the newest member of the family. Is your mate okay with him being on camera?”
You smile sheepishly as Shino exclaims around your fingers, “Thank you. I appreciate it. He normally just sits and plays quietly when we bring him places. I don’t know why he’s decided that today is the day he wants everyone to know he exists.” 
You pause, reaching into the basket to give your pup a teething ring. He refuses, perfectly content with your hand. “As for my mate, he gave me the greenlight for this interview. We had hoped to keep him out of the tabloids, give him privacy to grow but...” 
You shrug, “We both know first photos are incredibly sought after and pay a lot of money. My mate and I decided that we were going to release our own in the coming weeks, keep everyone at the tabloids from getting the payout and get them to leave us alone. Since he still looks like a potato, he won’t be recognized so its not awful. Its just not ideal.”
Aniko, the bass guitarist, chimes in, “Yeah, it was awful when I had my first. They followed us to the hospital and were parked all around the perimeter when it was time to be discharged. Some paramedics let us sneak out in the back of their ambulance. Its fucking unreal the extent they will go to just to say they were the first to get a picture of an infant.” 
“Its so gross,” Vivienne exclaims in agreement, shaking her head. She doesn’t get a chance to continue her thought because someone from behind the camera motions to her. She nods, giving them a thumbs up.
Shino mimics the action, his slimy hand holding up his own attempt at a thumbs up. He releases your hand to shove his the thumbs up into his mouth, letting you not so discretely wipe the baby spit onto your pants.
Vivienne coos at Shino, who levels her with his best unimpressed face and Shibi chuckles. 
Things start moving then, the producer beginning the countdown to start recording. Shino flinches so you lift him into your arms, giving him a big smacking kiss on his chunky baby cheek. He coos happily at you, smacking his own lips to make the kissing noise. Shibi almost can’t handle it, his hands shaking at how cute his child is.
The camera starts rolling and the interview is starts. Shibi leans back into the couch.
“Welcome to Steady Rock. I’m your host Vivienne Villareal,” The Beta starts, a wide grin on her colored lips as she stared down at the camera, “And I’m joined by special guests, Riots in Rouge. Thank you all for being here.”
“Happy to be here,” Natsume responds for the group.
Brief introductions are had, with every member of the band stating their name and their position in the band.
“We’ve been joined by another up-and-coming rockstar,” the interviewer jokes, turning her attention to Shino. 
The camera pans to Shino and zooms in a little bit. His Alpha takes his hand and helps him wave before the camera zooms back out so the entire band was back in frame. 
“Up-and-coming is right,” you laugh, shifting Shino the tiniest bit, “He’s already headbanging. It’s driving my mate insane.”
Shino cooes lowly in agreement, tiny slobbery fist pushing the glasses further up his face. The expression was all Shibi’s and you croon back at him. A large gummy smile spreads on the Pups face, all sweetness and sugar.
“He’s so much like his Oma,” you gushed without prompting, “They’re damn near twins. If Pup didn’t like the same music I do, I’d have thought he just spawned him in the closet.”
Shibi snorted. Foolish Alpha. Shino was more like you than you knew.
There is some idle chatter and chuckling before Vivienne switches gears. 
“First, I would like to congratulate you all on the new album,” Vivienne begins, “I’ve had it on repeat since it came out.”
“Thank you so much. Its been a passion project for sure,” Natsume responds, a big smile on her dark lips, “It was a journey.”
“Were you expecting it to sell out so quickly?”
“Oh god no,” Natsume laughs, “I mean, we had hoped but we didn’t think it would. At least, not until a month or so after release.”
“Why not? You have had three successful albums thus far. You sell out most, if not all, of your shows.”
“Its like....we don’t want to assume anything,” Bali, the lead guitarist chimes in, “And this album is definitely a change from the other three. It means more to us, its more personal.”
“What makes it so different?”
“Well, its more....mature? I guess is the word you’d use. We aren’t in the same space we were for the other three. We aren’t single students getting drunk every weekend and doing stupid shit that could get us arrested. And we aren’t newly signed up-and-comers who have shit to prove. We have a career. We are in long-term relationships. There are kids involved. Mortgages. We get hangovers now.” The last part earns a laugh before you continue, “We are responsible for so much more. We’ve settled into adulthood and what that means for each of us as individuals and as a group.” 
“I think we are just...happier too,” Bali adds, “We went through some real dark stuff before and after we met and we are now in better places physically and mentally.”
Vivienne smiles broadly, “I’m glad to hear it.”
Shibi purrs, light and airy. He remembers the person his Alpha had been when they met. His Alpha grew up in an environment where love was earned. Love was transactional. Love was not unconditional and freely given. Shibi had never experienced that particular brand of fucked up before but he already decided that you were the Appa to his future kids so he’d put in the effort to rewire their brain. It worked for the most part.
The conversation shifts to the more mechanical, technical parts of recording and coming up with songs. Shibi never really understood it. The extent of his musical talent is pressing the play button on whatever device is playing music. 
He floats in and out of his memories, unable to follow their conversation, but is dragged back when Shino yanks his mate’s guitar pick necklace with his super baby strength. 
“No no Little Love,” you murmur to him as you peel his fingers from the chain, “Your Oma gave me this. You can have it when I die.” He huffs in annoyance but decides that the bee plush Natsume hands him is a better toy. 
Vivienne takes the opening. 
“Speaking of your mate, what do your mates think of your new album?”
“He is very supportive but its not his preferred music,” you smile with a shrug, “But he’s got a good ear so if we are struggling with a song or an arrangement, we have him tell us what's wrong with it. He did say that this one was our best yet though.”
Bali chimes in with, “He said that we’ve found our sound since its more cohesive than our last two albums but honestly I think your mate just likes that we put a song about Pup in it.”
Shino throws his hands up and exclaims something in pup-speak and it makes you and the rest of the band laugh. The glasses slip off his face entirely and his faces scrunches, appalled at their desertion. Gently, you settle them back on.
Aniko reaches over to pull Shino’s shirt down from where it rose up, “I think he likes it too.”
A smile curled on Shibi’s mouth. They weren’t wrong, about any of it. You sat beside his pregnant belly for months composing that song, asking your unborn pup for his input occasionally. Shino was the most active during your little jam sessions with him, starting his own moshpit with Shibi’s organs. When he heard the final product - Well Aren’t You Something? - on the album, Shibi knew that, regardless of his own personal music tastes, that song would his forever-favorite.
“My mate cried when Y/N sent me the rough track,” Aniko laughed, “Said it was exactly how they felt when they held our pups.”
“Its why I write most of the songs,” you joke, “No but I was very happy when they told me they liked it and that we could put it on the list.”
“Now we just gotta make sure you don’t break down crying every time you sing it,” Natsume joked back, “Y/N turns into a big crybaby mess every time we try to practice it. I can see it now. Every headline for our next tour is just going to be “Lead Singer Cries During Set, Leaves Concert to Call Infant.””
“Okay and?” you scoff, “I fuc-fricken love my kid.” 
“Speaking of tour, will you be bringing your families on this year?” Vivienne asks.
“Pfft hell no,” Natsume scoffs, “My mate cannot deal with the tour life.”
“Oh why’s that?”
“She’s not good with travel. Gets car sick, air sick, and sea sick if she spends too long in a moving vehicle of any kind. She’d be miserable.”
“My courting partner is going to be with me on one leg of the tour,” Bali adds, “The second half. They’re a teacher so when school gets out, they’ll be joining me until school starts up again.”
“Nah,” you shake your head, “They will be staying home. My mate isn’t one for large crowds and traveling with a baby is a lot. My Love brought Pup to a show just so I could have that moment of like...walking off stage to my waiting family to bask in the post-show glow with them but we both agreed that it’s best to let me travel and call every night as opposed to traveling together and being unable to keep Pup’s schedule.”
“Same here,” Aniko responds, “My mate and kids are staying home. It was a disaster last time. We’re gonna try again when they are older. Like double digits older. I’m super grateful that everyone was so accomodating for us but it wasn’t fair for anyone involved.”
Shino yanks on your sleeve, interrupting the conversation once again with a steady stream of “Ap a pap apa pa app.”
“Yes,” you lean over and whisper down at him, “What is it Little Love?”
“Bug,” he chirps, pointing at the wall behind you off camera. “Big.”
All four members of your band look over to where he is pointing. The camera pans over just a bit and zooms in, revealing a very large nondescript bug perched innocently on the wall. As if it knew it was spotted, it flew off the wall rapidly, heading straight for the band.
The rest of the interview ends off with the sounds of chairs being abandoned, various levels of shouting from several grown adults, and the hysterical laughter of a pup.
Turning the TV off as the documentary cuts to commerical, Shibi sinks further into his couch. 
That interview had been your last, just a month before you had been killed outside of the recording studio by a crazed fan who couldn’t believe you were mated with a baby. Vivienne held a memorial in your honor on her show, playing the full recording of that last interview without any cuts so people around the world could see you as you were.
He was thankful she did.
He didn’t want those moments of you and Shino lost to time and a dusty backroom of forgotten media.
But he couldn’t watch further, knowing what comes next. The tone would shift after the clip, like it always did. They would talk about the trial and how you had gone in to work early with a sudden burst of inspiration because Shino had started a beat with his toys that you liked. How you were ambused outside the front door. How you died before you hit the ground but people had stayed to gawk at your body before someone called an ambulance.  
They would talk about your killer. How their mental state got her more time in a mental institution than a prison. How she was released early due to a technicality. How it was a mistake to let her back into society because within the year she tattooed your face onto hers and posted poorly done covers of your songs on the internet. 
They would bring in experts to talk about how her mental state deteriorated further and started stalking a family who she believed to be yours. How she was killed trying to kidnap that family’s eldest child - a little boy who was born the same year Shino had been - because their Appa didn’t play games. How she left behind pages and pages of documents detailing how she believed that the little boy was Shino, how she believed that Shibi remated and was raising Shino as someone else’s pup, and how she was going to take him and raise him as your stand in.
The thought of it still made Shibi’s hair stand on end. Life 360 is the best invention in existence in his humble opinion.
Shibi knew the documentary would end with a plea for Shibi and Shino to reach out because every piece done on you and your band ended that way. The media tried to find Shibi for interviews after the funeral but no one knew his name. They didn’t know Shino’s either.
You always called him ‘My Love’ and when Shino came along, you called him ‘Pup’ and ‘My Little Love.’ You never used their names. Shibi had wanted to be as anonymous as possible when you started courting and you made sure to keep that promise even as your band rose in the charts.
“They don’t need to know who you are or who he will be,” you whispered to him, hand cradling his very swollen belly, knot locked inside of him, “All they need to know is that I’m mated, I’m happy, and I’m an Appa. The rest are just details that no one needs to know.”
He promised you he would marry you one day, when he was ready for the world to know who he was. He still wore the promise rings you exchanged, forever tied to you even though he and your son no longer share your last name. 
The swarm of vultures looking to feast on his grief were relentless, poking and harassing everyone that had been connected to you in some way to get information about him and Shino. The pain of his choice didn’t outweigh his need to keep his son safe. 
You would understand. He knew you would.
And when the guilt threatened to eat him alive, he tattooed your name onto his body. It was crooked and wonky since he had done it himself with your stick and poke kit but it was worth it when it healed and he could hear you teasing him for doing something so reckless and wild. 
Shibi sucks in a shaky breath, the ache in his chest solid and unmoving, a common side effect of watching any of the pieces done about you. He still mourns for you and the life you planned. The second and third pups he never had.The trips to weird places you both wanted to visit. The house you planned to renovate into your forever home. The dog Shibi had planned to surprise you with. The eventual wedding and honeymoon. The anniversaries and birthdays and promotions and transfers and tours. The vow renewals. The retirement. The golden years. Grandpups that called you grandappa.
All lost forever the moment the bullet entered your body.
The couch shifts next to him and he turns his gaze from the black screen to his son. Shino was a teenager now, two years shy of being out of the nest and off to college and Shibi ached at all the years you had missed. You had been robbed of watching your son grow into the fantastic person he was becoming.
Shibi hates it.
He hates it more than he could ever put into words. 
“Oma,” his son murmurs, curling up beside him on the couch. Dark brown eyes rimmed with eyeliner look up at him but he says nothing else. Your guitar pick necklace dangles around his throat, his fingers calloused from practice.
“Which story did you want to hear?”
“The one where Appa asked you out on a date.”
Shibi’s lips curled up a little, “The time at the bar or the time they were running from the cops?”
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kkpwnall · 6 months
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if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all
part one | rated t | 1270 words | cw: parental death
all my thanks and love to my beloved @fragilecapric0rnn for beta-reading 💜 you're a rockstar and your feedback was so so helpful
Eddie was born under a bad sign. That’s what his momma always used to say. Friday the 13th, and in October? He never really stood a chance and neither did anyone else he got close to. He was like a black cat walking across their path. 
[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]
His momma was first, of course. Cursed by the fate of Eddie’s birth from the very beginning. And if he hadn’t dawdled on the way home from school that day, if he had gone straight home just like he’d promised, if he hadn’t stopped to pick a bouquet of ditch weed wildflowers for her and got distracted by caterpillars and rollie-pollies— Well, maybe he would’ve been able to tell the 911 operator she was still breathing when he found her.
His daddy was next, not much long after. Eddie worshiped him like a hero in one of his fantasy stories, the charming, devil-may-care, down on his luck protagonist who stole from the rich and gave to the needy. But the first time Floyd brought him out on a real job, just the two of them, when all Eddie had to do was hot wire the getaway car after he heard the signal (three hoots like a barn owl), Eddie panicked. Did he say barn owl or barred owl? Was that two hoots or three? Why did the wires all look the same in the dark?
When the police cars painted him in their flashing red and blue lights, he dropped the wire cutters and ran. Floyd went down in a hail of bullets behind the car Eddie had been trying to steal, and Wayne got his own life sentence when the State dropped Eddie on his doorstep.
Uncle Wayne got the worst of it, obviously. Working himself to the bone, nights and weekends, to put Eddie through school. Not to mention senior year for a second and third goddamn time.
It was too late by the time young Eddie figured it out. By the time he decided to keep everyone at arm’s length.
It’s safer that way, for everyone.
Chrissy was just the latest in a long line. And he’d only lowered his guard an inch, a millimeter, when he saw someone just as lonely and desperate for a friend. He’d only barely started to let himself have an inkling of what an actual friendship with her might be like when—
This is exactly why Eddie doesn’t have friends. He has minions. He has little lost sheepies, he has twerps and shrimps. And that’s it. That’s enough. It has to be enough.
But all that changes the day he dies.
Or maybe it’s the day he finally wakes up. His new birthday, welcomed to the world once again in a cold, bright, sterile hospital room.
And really, the way he sees it, it’s all Henderson’s fault.
The little shit wanders in every day at visiting hours and makes himself right at home. He props his cast up on Eddie’s bed, and steals the remote to change the channel on the ancient, minuscule tv over to cartoons, and then he just… camps out! All day!
The kid will not leave him alone, no matter how cold a shoulder Eddie tries to give him. He even broke down and explained everything to him. How he’s bad luck, he’s bad news. And people who get too close to him end up dead.
But maybe the painkillers they’ve got him on scrambled his brain as bad as the bats scrambled his guts, because Dustin steamrolls right over him.
“If curses were real, which they aren’t,” he posits in his professor voice, “Your dumb curse can’t try to kill me again. It already took a shot and it missed, and the worst I got was a busted ankle.”
Eddie opens his mouth to tell Dustin that’s not how curses work but—
“And what was its goal anyway? To get you alone and friendless, dead in a ditch? Well then, mission accomplished!”
Which is… weirdly comforting when he puts it like that.
Dustin brings with him a rotating cast of the rest of the fellowship. Eddie finally gets to meet Baby Byers and finds out he’s already been recruited to Hellfire before Eddie can even say hello.
More often than not, Steve tags along too since he’s already ferrying them all between the hospital and home. Usually after he’s spent some time with Red and the other kids in her room, he’ll drop by. To check on Dustin of course.
It’s not because he likes Eddie. Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even know him.
All that… before… it was just some harmless flirting to keep himself from completely losing it while he was on the run from homicidal bible-thumpers. And Steve was just humoring him.
So he hides behind stupid flirtatious remarks, easy to brush off when it’s always undercut with sly winks and salacious expressions. Enough to keep everything surface level. Keep him at arms length.
It doesn’t matter that his eyes still seem to linger on Eddie, even when he hasn’t said anything for a while. Or that he brings Eddie extra pudding cups from the cafeteria. It doesn’t mean anything when he stands in the doorway trying to finish one last story or joke, until the kids almost literally have to drag him out when visiting hours are over.
Because it turns out Steve is an incorrigible gossip. And Eddie’s not about to be the one to corrige him. Not when he brings an extra dr. pepper for Eddie every time he stops by the vending machine for a coke and gleefully tells Eddie which of the doctors, nurses, and shady government agents are sleeping together.
A can of coke he taps on the lid with a peculiar rhythm before he cracks it, every time.
“What’s up with that?” Eddie finally has to ask one day, when it’s just the two of them and the Price is Right.
Steve hums this confused little sound at him, tilting his head with furrowed brows as he takes the first sip.
Eddie repeats the pattern, tapping it out on his own can.
Steve blinks a few times, first at Eddie, then at the can in his hand.
“I didn’t even realize I did that,” he huffs out a laugh. “It’s uh… something my grandpa taught me when I was a kid. Y’know just for luck.”
The blood in Eddie’s veins freezes and he’s stuck like that for a painfully long moment. Propped up against the lumpy hospital pillows with his mouth half open, staring at Steve.
“For luck.” he says flatly.
“Yeah, so the fizz doesn’t explode when you open it.”
“And has that ever happened to you?” Aiming for flirty, aiming for scathing, aiming for anything that’s not desperation.
“Well no,” Steve says with an easy shrug and a conspiratorial smile, “that’s why it’s lucky. It’s like picking up a coin that’s face-down on the sidewalk.”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s face-up, darlin,” Eddie says coyly, like every alarm bell in his head isn’t ringing a deafening cacophony.
“Nah see, you gotta leave those ones for someone who really needs the luck.”
“But then you get the bad luck.”
“Nah, doesn’t work that way,” Steve says, and fucking winks at him.
Eddie wants to shake him. What is wrong with him? He’s got it all backwards and it’s dangerous. How is he walking around like this?
Whatever, it’s not his problem. Steve can do whatever Steve wants. Eddie doesn’t need to protect him from himself. It’s not like they’re friends. And really, that’s the best way to protect him.
[ part two ]
[ also on ao3 ]
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himbosandhardwear · 2 months
Text
Sneak peek at my next story: Rockstar Eddie, fresh out of rehab, looking to keep his nose clean, returns to Hawkins for some down home realness. Instead he receives temptations beyond anything found in a syringe: single dad Steve Harrington in a cable knit sweater.
Enjoy!
His poor nerves, fried from trauma and years of uppers, jangled under his skin at a sudden frantic knock at the front door.
A muffled, “Wayne? You home?” came next.
Eddie crouched down and skipped over to the door. Someone was trying to peek through the side window, so he flattened himself against the wall opposite and hoped they gave up and went away. If not, he'd use his coffee mug as a weapon.
He quickly chugged the dregs to empty the cup, which was probably the dumbest thing he could've done, seeing as he then did a spit take all over Steve Harrington, and the baby strapped to his chest, when he opened the door without warning.
They both squinted at him in the aftermath. The baby did some sort of delighted, bubbling giggle.
“I shouldn't have smoked with Chris before I left. He’s always sneaking shit into his weed…” That was the only explanation for the current hallucination.
“Eddie?” Steve whispered. Even though obviously, he was looking right at him.
“Uhh,” he answered, articulate and precise.
Steve absentmindedly wiped his kid off with his sleeve, Eddie noted it was a nice, thick cable knit sweater, but didn't even bother to clean his spotted glasses. “I was looking for Wayne,” he said, not breaking eye contact for a second.
Eddie couldn't look away either. “He's still at work for another hour or so.”
“Shit,” he finally looked away to do that little punch maneuver that tugged his sleeve back, to glance down at his watch, “you're right. God dammit! Sorry, love, you didn't hear that,” he muttered to his kid.
His kid! Eddie screamed internally.
“Did you need…” Eddie had no idea how to finish that sentence.
Steve took pity on him. “Holly usually watches her on the weekends but she's out with Karen doing a college tour.” He had a look about him like that sentence just took him out at the knees. Yeah. Holly should not be going to college, she should be in the fifth grade. “Anyway, I've tried everyone there is to try. Joyce is sick, Claudia is in Atlanta visiting her sister. Wayne was my last hope. I- Shit. What the fuck. Sorry, baby.” He placed his huge hands over her tiny ears.
Eddie gulped. “Sorry, dude. Just me.”
Steve blinked at him. ���Could you-”
“Absolutely not.” His stomach clenched in horror. “Are you insane? I just got out of rehab.”
Steve had the decency to flinch. “I know. I, uh, I don't have any other options. My appointment is in twenty minutes and it's going to take a few hours. Could you just watch her until Wayne gets home? It won't be long and she can't walk yet so you just have to make sure everything is picked up off the floor while she scoots around. She's changed, fed, you'd just have to keep her entertained.”
Eddie was still stuck on the ‘I know’ so he hardly followed anything that came after. “No. Take her with you.”
“I can't! It's a fucking MRI, Eddie!”
He couldn't help but to flinch. Why did Steve need an MRI? What was wrong?
His upset was the only reason he felt okay blurting out, “Where's her mom?”
A dry chuckle preceded, “There is no mom. Unless you wanna count Robin for giving birth but she's about as maternal as you are.”
“Uhhhh,” Eddie droned.
“Yes, I know she's a lesbian, thanks. It was a surrogacy thing. Obviously. Anyway she's been in Chicago for the last six months. And not having to babysit was part of the agreement. We're wasting time. I know you can do this. You handled Erica Sinclair, you can handle Abby.”
He glanced down. Abby. She got Steve's brown eyes. God dammit. “Erica could walk and talk and feed herself. Probably not lick a light socket.”
He cracked a smile, despite himself. “C'mon man. She likes stories. Are you not a storyteller?”
Eddie's heart broke all over again. “I used to be.”
Something broke for Steve as well. “Please, Eddie,” he said but it sounded like ‘You owe me.’
Which…no? Eddie wasn't the one who-
“Look, just come with me to the appointment. You'll only need to hold her while I'm in the machine.”
That reminder was what did it. “Okay.”
He lit up. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he moaned. “Just let me get dressed.”
“Oh.” Steve only seemed to register then that Eddie was standing there in nothing but a pair of black silk boxers and a tank top. “Right. Uh. I'll just get Abb back in her car seat.”
“Okay.”
They shuffled away from each other, and as soon as the door snicked shut Eddie was on the floor. He didn't have long to wallow, the hospital was like eight minutes away, but he couldn't help it. Not even in Hawkins for a full day and already he was under Steve's spell.
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