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waskurttrans · 2 years

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Kurt Cobain Will Have His Revenge on the Straights

Had a video call with my brother Chuck the other day. Things got heavy:

KATE: Was Kurt Cobain a trans woman?

CHUCK: What?

Kurt Cobain. Rock musician. He was in a band called Nirvana.

I’m familiar with him, yes.

Was he a trans woman?

Um. No?

OK. Why not?

I mean, he wasn’t. It’s like asking why he wasn’t an astronaut.

He wasn’t an astronaut because he never went to space. Why wasn’t he a trans woman?

Because he didn’t transition. I mean, he didn’t ever say he was a woman, didn’t ever say he was trans. So no. Kurt Cobain wasn’t a trans woman.

So someone is trans if they say they’re trans. Self-determination.

That’s what you’ve told me. Is that wrong?

No, that’s right. We know ourselves better than anybody else can know us. If we say we’re trans, nobody can say we aren’t.

And Kurt Cobain never said he was trans.

So was I trans in 1994?

I don’t know, were you?

Yes, but if you’d asked me in 1994, I would have told you “no”.

So if I tell you I’m trans, I’m trans…

Right.

But if I tell you I’m cis, I might still be trans?

If you tell me you’re cis, I believe you.

That’s not the same thing as “I’m cis”.

That’s a really good point. This is sort of what some queer people are getting at when they say “gender is a construct”.

Come again?

Well, you’re cisgender, right?

As far as I know, yes.

Aha.

Hmmm?

You hedged. “As far as I know” isn’t the same thing as “yes”. “As far as I know” opens up the possibility that you could be trans and not know it.

It doesn’t seem terribly likely.

That’s an interesting statement. Early on in transition one of the biggest problems I had was dealing with the sheer unlikelihood of my being trans. I mean, I knew trans people existed. I knew somebody had to be trans. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that it would be me.

Do you think this is why you’re on this whole “Kurt Cobain was a trans woman” kick?

Hey now, I’m just asking questions. You know. Like J.K. Rowling is “just asking questions”.

Kate, you are literally wearing a T-shirt that says “KURT COBAIN WAS A TRANS WOMAN” on it right now.

Am I? Oh, shit. I thought I was wearing my “Skip school, take hormones, kill God” T-shirt. To your question, though - yeah, I do think that’s part of it. Honestly, the hardest thing about growing up trans was believing that nobody in the world had ever experienced what I was experiencing. I didn’t have any role models. I didn’t wonder if I was the only one. I was convinced of it.

So being able to say that this incredibly gifted songwriter, the voice of a generation, was a trans woman like you…

I need someone like that. I need to not be the first of my kind.

Of course you’re not the first trans woman.

No, but before a couple of years ago almost every trans woman would tell you they always knew, unquestionably and innately, that they were women.

So it’s not just about him being trans, but specifically his being a trans woman who didn’t know he was a trans woman.

An egg. Right.

Why Kurt Cobain, anyway? What’s so special about him that you’re trying to induct him into the Egg Hall of Fame?

He knew things. Things cis guys don’t know. Things I didn’t know until after I started transition. He understood women, what we’re like, what we experience. “Pennyroyal Tea”. “Rape Me”. I just have a hard time thinking of a cis man who could write songs like that.

It wouldn’t be the only way in which he was exceptional.

True. Ahhh. I don’t know. I mean, I know, I can give you all the reasons, but there’s something in his eyes.

Something in his eyes.

All the pictures of him. No matter what he’s doing. If he’s grinning, or sad, whatever he’s doing, you can see something trapped there. Trapped and in pain, wanting to get out but not quite knowing how.

Huh. You, uh, know that what you’re doing is pretty much the textbook definition of projection, right?

Maybe. Chuck, do you think I’m happier?

Since you transitioned?

Yeah.

Of course. Absolutely. Night and day.

Everyone says that, and honestly, I see it. Even in pictures, you know? I see it. You’ve seen some of my transition timelines, right?

You do look really different.

It’s not just me. Every single person who transitions looks like that. We look so much happier, so much more alive, so much more us. I don’t understand how anybody can hate us.

I don’t get it either, Kate.

And when I look at any timelines, I look at the before photos… and I see something in their eyes. Transmasc, transfem, doesn’t matter. There’s something trapped wanting to get out. Every picture I’ve ever seen of Kurt Cobain looks like the “before” picture on a transition timeline. It’s just that with him, there aren’t any after pictures.

And it’s not just the eyes, either. The way he dressed, the whole “grunge look”. It’s just literally egg fashion. We dress with total disregard for our appearance or how we look because no matter what we do it’s wrong.

“Egg fashion”, egg this, egg that… isn’t it a little bit anachronistic, judging him by 2022 standards, 2022 values?

Is it? Chuck, I was alive in 1994. I was an 18 year old egg. I know what that feels like. I know what that looks like. I lived that. Why didn’t I come out as trans in 1994? Because I didn’t have the opportunity. Because self-determination needs to be informed, and none of us were. None of us. Look. You know what he said to Melody Maker in 1991? “I knew I was different. I thought that I might be gay or something because I couldn't identify with any of the guys at all.” That’s what he said.

Holy shit. Really?

Really. September 14, 1991.

Hold on, let me look that up. Oh, yeah, I see it. Look, if you look at the full quote he’s just saying he’s not a jock. Like he didn’t fit in with the jocks.

Well, what about the dresses?

What dresses?

Kurt Cobain wore a lot of dresses. Like, a lot, both onstage and off. On MTV in 1991, he said “It’s ‘Headbanger’s Ball’ so I thought I’d wear a gown.” He said in a 1993 interview, “I personally like to wear dresses. I wear them around the house sometimes.” This is not some shameful secret he kept hidden from the world. He was open about this. He was proud about this.

Yeah, but… it’s just clothes.

Except it’s not just clothes. Listen to his songs. Listen to his lyrics. “Should have been a son”. “I’m a lady, can you save me?” “Everyone is gay.” The original lyrics to “All Apologies” from his journals – “Boys write songs for girls. Let me grow some breasts.”

I mean they’re song lyrics. There are all kinds of ways to interpret song lyrics.

Sure. All kinds of ways. You ever read Michael Azerrad’s biography of Cobain, Come As You Are?

Nope.

Azerrad spent weeks talking to Cobain. He was Cobain’s biographer, but also his friend. And he has his own interpretation of the lyrics. For instance, Azerrad talks about all the lyrics about guns, and to me, now, I look at that, and I think of how he died, but Azerrad, when Kurt was alive, he looked at it another way. He thought it’s about dicks. “To paraphrase Dr. Freud,” he says, “sometimes a gun is just a gun. But not this time.” He talks about “Come As You Are”, where Kurt keeps singing “I swear I don’t have a gun.” That’s not my interpretation. That’s never been my interpretation. That’s what this cis man says. More than one cis man. Kurt says Dave Grohl’s dad, he said the same thing. Yeah. There are all kinds of ways to interpret lyrics.

“By this time,” Azerrad wrote, “one begins to wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man at all. His first response is revealing. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘Castration.’” I don’t wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man. I rationalized “being a man” in all kinds of ways. What strikes me is that he needed to rationalize being a man. Had to come up with some kind of excuse. It just strikes me kind of funny.

Kurt’s songs have meanings. The lyrics to “In Bloom”, Kurt was pretty explicit about that. The lyrics he wrote have meanings. “Heart-Shaped Box”. You know what that refers to? When Courtney Love was flirting with Kurt, Michael Azerrad says in Come As You Are, “She gave Dave (Grohl) a package to give to Kurt – little sea shells and miniature teacups and a tiny doll, all packed into a small heart-shaped box.” A tiny doll locked away inside a box shaped like a heart. That was what I felt like before I came out. A tiny phantom doll. Kurt and Courtney first kissed after a show at the Cabaret Metro in Chicago. Rumor was that they fucked against the bar, but they denied it. What actually happened, Azerrad says, is that “Courtney had a bag of lingerie with her for some reason and Kurt ended up modeling the contents.” And then they went to Kurt’s hotel room and they fucked.

You’re making it sound…

Maybe it was. Because you look at that and you think that if it was like that, it was perverted and wrong, because that’s what you were told, that it’s a sick fetish thing, and I look at it and it isn’t. To me, that’s normal. That Kurt Cobain was sexually aroused while wearing Courtney Love’s lingerie, that’s normal.

Kate, he was a punk! He hated jocks, and wearing a dress pissed off jocks, so he wore dresses. He talked about wanting to wear a dress and piss on a redneck A&R man’s desk! You think that was some kind of sex thing?

Sexuality is part of being a woman. Part. Rage – and Kurt Cobain had a lot of rage inside him – that’s another part. Am I interpreting, am I looking at things from my perspective as a trans woman? Yes, certainly, just like you’re interpreting, looking at it from your perspective as a cis man. When cis people interpret things, their conclusion is never “they were trans”. Never.

Ed Wood wasn’t a trans woman. He was just a transvestite. He was a man.

Pete Burns from Dead or Alive wasn’t a trans woman. Sure, he got all sorts of feminizing surgeries, but he never said he was a woman. Man.

Prince Nelson adopted a female persona, feminized his voice, and recorded a song about wanting to be a woman's girlfriend, but he was also a Christian and believed that being queer was wicked and sinful, and that's the identity of his we need to respect. Man.

Richard Wright, who wrote the Phish song “Halley’s Comet”, spent most of the 1980s telling everyone he knew he was a transsexual lesbian named Nancy, but after being consistently treated like shit changed his mind about that, so none of that counts for anything. Man.

Dave Carter was on HRT when he died, but he was just questioning. He didn’t tell anybody for sure that he was a woman. Man.

Quentin Crisp said just before he died that if he was younger, he absolutely would have transitioned, but wanting to transition isn’t the same as actually transitioning. Man.

All men. Always, always men, whatever they do, whatever they say. I know how that works. I was told all these same things about myself for decades, all these same reasons, and now, I don’t know, I guess people will make a personal exception for me, but for everybody else, the same old assumptions, the same old arguments, they still apply. They’re still legitimate.

I thought we were talking about Kurt Cobain.

And the only way to do that is to talk about him in isolation. There’s no larger context to consider, no bigger picture. I can’t really know. I can’t really judge.

I mean, everybody else does. I guess I can’t tell you not to. But all of this circumstantial evidence, all of the dresses and the lyrics that you I guess know the real meaning of – none of that makes him a girl.

Sure. And nothing can make him a girl. Because he’s dead. Because he killed himself.

Oh, here we go. After thirty years and countless speculation, you have at last uncovered the real reason Kurt Cobain killed himself – gender dysphoria. Do you have a book deal yet?

Working on it. And yes, people say a lot of stupid things about Cobain’s death, like it’s this big shock that this guy who hated himself and wanted to die killed himself.

Right. He was pretty well-known for being a heroin addict, which isn’t exactly something that improves one’s quality of life.

Sure, but why did he start heroin?

I don’t know. Why does anybody start heroin?

To help him cope with his eating disorder.

Wait, what? Eating disorder?

You don’t know about that? He had stomach problems, for a long, long time. He could only eat certain kinds of food, certain kinds of food that wouldn’t make his stomach hurt. Doctors looked but they could never find any organic cause for it. Nobody took it seriously. So he self-medicated with heroin. “It was my choice,” he told Azerrad. “I don’t regret it at all because it was such a relief from not having stomach pain every day.” I know, though. Lots of cis guys have eating disorders. Doesn’t mean anything.

Kate there’s a lot of interpreting going on here.

Yeah, I guess there is. Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? Is that necessarily wrong? Like. You’ve seen The Matrix, right?

Only the first one.

Yeah, that’s fine. So you know how important The Matrix is to a lot of trans women, right?

Yes, but I’m not really sure why. Just seems like a retelling of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” with extra fight scenes.

It’s pretty trans, though, right?

Clearly. It was directed by two trans women.

And trans women who watch it – eggs or otherwise – find their own lives and experiences reflected in it in ways that cis people, like you, don’t.

I guess, but the fact that it was actually made by two trans women carries a little more weight with me.

OK, but what if the Wachowskis had died in 2000? In, like… a car crash or something? Does that mean The Matrix isn’t a trans film?

Well, no, because it’s still a film made by two trans women.

A film made by two trans women that speaks to the trans experience, and that is recognized by living trans women as speaking specifically to the trans experience. The only difference is that, in this scenario, nobody knows the Wachowski Sisters are trans women. And we can’t prove it. We can’t possibly prove it, and nobody is going to just believe us when we say it’s a trans movie, that the Wachowskis were trans women, because they didn’t say it, they didn’t say the special magic words. Self-determination. You know what self-determination meant to Kurt Cobain? I remember seeing Courtney Love on television reading his note, I remember her interrupting to say that he was an asshole, that what he was saying was bullshit. She didn’t respect his self-determination.

Um…

“Pennyroyal Tea”. Cobain told Azerrad “It's a cleansing theme where I’m trying to get all my bad evil spirits out of me and drinking Pennyroyal tea would cleanse that away.” Pennyroyal is an abortifacient – but, Azerrad notes, only in lethal doses.

Hell, not just that song. The whole album. In Utero. The collage on the back cover, the one Cobain described to Azerrad as “Sex and woman and In Utero and vaginas and birth and death". The occult symbols surrounding it, taken from Barbara G. Walker’s The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects1. There was something inside Kurt Cobain, something inside him waiting to be born, but he was told, over and over, that it was a monster, so he killed it, the only way he could. By killing himself.

That could have been me. That could so easily have been me. I was told all the same things he was. We all were. When I was 27? When I was 27, I was addicted to benzos, benzos they prescribed me because I was trying to bury, trying to kill this thing, this thing I had inside of me. I was a zombie. Walking dead. When I quit, I quit cold turkey. Nobody told me about the withdrawal syndrome. Nobody told me it could have killed me. And if it had, everybody would remember me, everybody would think of me, as a cis man. Forever. They would perpetuate the Lie. That’s why I transitioned, why I chose to go through all the shit I went through. The writer and musician Margaret Killjoy, in 2017 she talked about what she went through the day before she came out:

“All I could think was: ‘Oh god, I don’t want to die a boy.’”2

I felt the same way, came out for the same reason. I figured no matter what I did, I was dead. I didn’t do it live, but to at least have an honest death. I genuinely believed transition would kill me.

It didn’t, though! You’re alive and you’re beautiful and I’m so, so glad for that. It didn’t kill you.

It could have. Still could. Transition has helped, has made it easier for me, but it’s not that way with everyone. People have been kind to me, in ways that they aren’t kind to other trans women. Others of us… aren’t so lucky.

Who are we respecting, exactly, by remaining silent about our shared experiences, our shared perspectives, things we see that you fucking don’t, that you can’t see? Of course I can’t prove it. I can’t prove that I’m trans. You can’t prove that you’re cis. Cis people, though, cis people never have to prove anything. Their prejudices are the null hypothesis3. If I was to go out there and say that Kurt Cobain was a cisgender man, would anybody say I was wrong? Would anybody object or complain? Even though my saying that is an anachronism, is meaningless. The word, the concept, it literally didn’t exist when Cobain died. Have you ever heard the word “agnotology”?

No?

It means making a false claim to ignorance. Claiming that we don’t know something that we do. That we can’t know something that we can. We know things now, Chuck. We know what the symptoms of gender dysphoria are. We know what it does to people. How eggs think. How eggs act. How eggs die. But we pretend we don’t. We still pretend. We pretend suicide is an individual act, even when we know it’s not, that the reasons for it are wholly personal. We pretend that when someone dies by suicide, their reasons for doing so die with them. And they don’t, Chuck. We’re still dying, still dying for the same reasons Kurt Cobain did. It’s not just that we aren’t allowed to recognize ourselves. We aren’t allowed to recognize each other. Individual choice or social contagion. Those are the options we’re given. And neither of them are right. Neither of them are who we are.

Kurt Cobain wrote, thought, talked, died like eggs do. I don’t care if he never said the magic fucking words. We know our own. We recognize each other. And if someone is alive? If someone is alive I will go my whole life without ever breathing a word. Because as long as we’re alive, we do choose, and that means we can choose ignorance. What I think, what I want, for someone else, for us, it doesn’t matter. I do that, I follow that code, for the benefit of one person – the egg themselves. Once they die, all bets are off. Omerta no longer applies. Kayfabe no longer applies.

To be queer is to be erased, to experience erasure. I still hear straight men arguing, as if they have any right to argue, as if they know, that Emily Dickinson was not a lesbian. Emily Dickinson! I’m supposed to listen to people who say this shit? I’m supposed to take them seriously when they say well, actually, calling Dickinson a “lesbian” is historically anachronistic, we can’t apply the standards of the present to the past, and Jesus fuck have you read her letters? She liked girls. She really liked girls. Kurt Cobain was a trans woman. Kurt Cobain was every bit as much a trans woman as Emily Dickinson was a lesbian. Refusing to say it isn’t “respect”. It’s perpetuating the crime perpetrated against Cobain, against every other trans woman who ever killed herself because of the lies we were told about ourselves. No more. Kurt Cobain was a trans woman. I can’t, as an individual, say that. I don’t have the right. No trans woman can say that, individually. But collectively? All of us together? The things we see in each other, we see those things in him too. Not all of them, and not all of us. Absolutely not all of us. But enough of us. Enough that we have the right. We have the right, and I will fucking say it, and if you don’t like that, you can go fuck yourself.

Kate, are you ok?

I’m fine.

Do you want a hug?

Fuck you, Chuck.

OK, well. I’m, uh. Gonna go to the other room. You should, uh. Drink some water. Stay hydrated. Love you, Kate.

Love you too, Chuck. Sorry.

Shhh. It’s OK, Kate. It’s OK.

1 Diane Purkiss criticizes the occult nature of Walker’s encyclopedia in "Women's Rewriting of Myth", in Carolyne Larrington (ed), The Feminist Companion to Mythology, London, 1992, p. 444: “In Donna Haraway's influential terms, these women may wish to be goddesses, but they are cyborgs all the same”. The work she’s referencing is Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto”. Haraway was, it happens, an academic advisor to the trans woman Sandy Stone, and her “Cyborg Manifesto” was a pivotal influence on Stone’s “The Empire Strikes Back: A Post-Transsexual Manifesto”, one of the foundational works of transgender theory.

2 Margaret Killjoy, https://birdsbeforethestorm.net/2017/06/im-not-even-going-to-try-to-pass/

3 Natalie Reed, https://freethoughtblogs.com/nataliereed/2012/04/17/the-null-hypothecis/

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thelittleliars · 1 year

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Hoodie

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1.3K

Summary: Someone stole your favorite hoodie.

AN: I had this cute little idea for an au. So here it is! Natasha in a hoodie is still one of my favorite looks of her.

You had been looking everywhere for your favorite hoodie for over an hour but it seemed like it disappeared from the face of the earth. The last time you saw it was a couple days ago when it laid on your desk. You were sure of it. Nothing but an old nirvana t-shirt and purple hoodie that Kate forgot was on your desk. Continue looking for your hoodie would only waste more time so you decided to visit your best friend who lived a couple blocks away.

You quickly threw on a pair of vans and a jacket, grabbed your keys and left your tiny apartment with frustration. The 10 minute walk to the Avengers Tower helped you calm down but still were super bummed that your favorite hoodie was now gone. At the Tower you had to go through security before getting on the elevator up to the lounge where your best friend Yelena was most likely chilling. Steve and Bucky were the only ones there though.

"Hey guys!" You greeted them with a friendly smile. "Has any of you two seen Yelena?"

Bucky shook his head, which you expected since he and Yelena barely saw each other anyways. "I'm sorry, Yelena just had gone out with Kate and Peter I believe." Steve told you. You nodded sadly, thinking about if you should call her to meet up with them or not. "Natasha is in her room though." You blushed at the mention of the red head. Cap and Bucky were the only people who knew of your crush on Natasha. They constantly gave you the chance to be closer to her which was super sweet of them. You mumbled a small thanks before making your way towards her room which was a floor below.

You were so busy with your thoughts that you forgot to knock, you busted right into her room where she was talking to someone or rather something. She talked to her phone, it looked like she was either filming herself or being in a video chat. "Ohh.." You felt the heat of guilt and embarrassment in your face. "I'm so sorry. I should have knocked first."

She turned her head around when she heard your voice, also starting to smile at the sight of you being in her room. You returned a shy smile back to her, trying hard not to show any signs of the crush you have on her. Natasha waved you in before you could make up your mind to just leave her alone. You quickly closed the door behind you before you rushed to her side. Then you finally saw what she was doing, filming something on some app you don't recognize. "Is that TikTok?"

Natasha snorted, "It's actually Instagram." The information of her using Instagram was new to you and also kind of surprising. "You should actually know that since you know... you have an account there."

"Oh honey, just because I have an account doesn't mean I have the app on my phone and use it." The words just came out of you before you could even realize what you were about to say. Nat fully turned her body to you, your eyes immediately took her full form in and that's when you realized that she was wearing your clothes. She was wearing your favorite hoodie, the one you were looking for all this time. How it landed here with her was beyond you. "Like what you see?" She teased you as she caught you starring at her.

"T-that's my hoodie." She looked down her own body, then looking back up into your eyes with slight confusion. "You're wearing my favorite hoodie right now. I was looking for it all day Tasha!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was yours." She apologized. "I stole it from Yelena's room thinking it was her's or Kate's."

"Cука!" You muttered to yourself. It made perfect sense that Yelena stole it, she was the last one visiting you in your apartment a day or two days ago.

Natasha grinned at you, she liked that you cursed her sister in their mother language. "Here let me give it back to you." She took off your hoodie in one swift motion and now stood in front of you in a bra. You were shocked that she was confident and comfortable enough to stand there so exposed. After the shock was over you tried your best not to look at her boobs, so your eyes wandered around her room. When you looked to her desk you saw her and yourself on the phone screen. That was when you realized that it was still recording, you shyly step in front of her phone to cover the camera with your back. "You're still recording." You told her with a hint of uneasiness in your voice. Her eyes suddenly became big. "Oh shit.. Y/N I'm not recording anything, I'm live on Instagram!" The panic was written all over her face.

"Good thing you don't have many followers to tune in.. right?" You ask her cluelessly. She huffed, she would have loved your innocence about social media if it were for a different situation that didn't include exposing herself half naked to the world.

"Detka, I'm an Avenger." She stated. You nodded, "Wow! Who would have thought!" The sarcasm and teasing was dripping from you. "So what?" Natasha sighed, she was getting tired of this situation. "Turn around and look at the upper right corner." You did as you were told to do, there in the corner was a tiny viewer count saying 50K and it kept growing by each second. Only then you realized why Natasha reacted the way she did. "How do you end this live thing??"

Natasha noticed your now new panicked state and found it quite amusing. "You gotta.. uhm.. on the right.. wait let me just.." She stepped behind you and pressed her body into yours, hiding her half exposed body from the world. You felt her arms brushing against each side of your body, trying to navigate her way to end the livestream. With every movement she made you felt her boobs, that were pressed against your back, even more. Warmth spread through your whole body and you start to panic since you couldn't control yourself anymore. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid. You constantly told yourself.

Both of you sighed in relief when you saw that the livestream had ended. She leaned her forehead against your shoulder for a second before taking a step back and turning you around by your waist. "You could have returned my hoodie later." Natasha continued to stare at your face, only meeting your gaze from time to time. "How come you forgot that you were live?"

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, her gaze returned to yours, her green eyes looked into your y/e/c ones softly. "I got distracted." Nat admitted. You raised your left eyebrow, not getting what would distracted her that much. "By what?" "You." Your breath got caught in your throat. "M-me?"

She gave you a small shy smile and nodded. "Yes, you." Your heart beat so fast that you could heart it in your ears. It was also a reason why you could not stop stuttering. "W-w-why?"

"Is that not obvious?" She teased you before her whole aura got serious. "You always looks so cute and you talking russian just made things worse." Holy motherfucker... NATASHA ROMANOFF FINDS ME CUTE. The two of you stood there with blushing cheeks looking all awkward and like two idiots who didn't know how to make a first step.

"I honestly don't know what to say."

She took your hands into hers, holding them softly in between your bodies, squeezing them a bit because of her nervousness. "Would you go on a date with me?" You felt your voice slip away so you just nodded and smiled at her widely.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #black widow x you #natasha x y/n #Hoodie

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glitterinmyveinss · 2 months

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Hey er ive never done requests before and I don’t really know how to work tumblr at all so I hope I’m doing this right but anyways I saw your post about wanting someone to request Reese Wilkerson stuff and I just wanted to ask if you could make a post just for headcannons about him? I haven’t seen too many on here and I need them so bad 😭

ofc i can! tysm for requesting and ik a lot of other people sent requests for reese too n i'll get to them soon it's just i have an irl crush rn so the delusions aren't really delusioning apologies <3

Reese Wilkerson Hc's

ok i noticed that in the halloween episode in season 7 i believe he's wearing a misfits shirt !! so i think he would like punk, grunge, pop punk, and nu metal. like misfits, descendants, nirvana, limp bizkit, blink 182, sum 41, sublime, beastie boys, really anything punk related

definitely watches wwe and if you're over you're watching it too

he loves watching his favorite scary movies w you and he loves how you like them too!

if you don't like scary movies he dosent mind either bc that just means you'll be hiding in his arms the whole time so he wins either way

i feel like when he first met you he definitely played a prank on you to get your attention or just annoyed you but once you sorted that all out, you join him on his pranks and he swears he's never liked a girl more

if you're smarter than him and you offer to tutor him he'll only do it under one condition: he gets a kiss everytime he gets something right

might be self projecting but he's def a boob guy.

everyone has this image of him as some psycho tough guy but play with his hair and he'll just melt. especially if you have acrylic nails! his head will be in your lap while you guys are watching tv n you'll be playing with his hair and he'll be as quiet as a mouse and malcolm will just be like "how did you do that."

loves it when you borrow his clothes. especially his hoodies. it just does something to him

tbh i feel like he could go for someone with either a more edgier look ( think avril lavigne or bill kaulitz) or someone with the girly 2000s look ( think britney spears or any of the playboy bunny girls )

once you guys have an established relationship he'll spend all his time with you! at first he wasn't sure if it was ok but now that he knows you really like him he's so happy!

i don't think he's big on pda i think hand holding is as far as hell go but i don't think he minds if you kiss him on the cheek

but once you guys are alone omg

cant keep his hands off you!

he's either super horny or super cuddly no in between

you and him always get stuck babysitting jamie and he'll be doing the most normal thing like putting jamie's shoe on or feeding him and youre just stuck staring at him bc he looks so cute!

dates usually consist of movie marathons, him cooking something for you guys, concerts, theater trips, or something really spontaneous like taking a trip to another city just bc you guys were bored.

walks you to all of your classes <3

malcom n dewey really like you and think you keep reese sane

ties your shoes

if you guys have a class together he's always doodling in your notebook whether it's something cute or raunchy

i think he struggles with self image so he needs a lot of reassurance

if you have pets he somehow has an immediate bond with them. they just love him!

he try's really hard to remember things you like for future gifts/dates

i feel like he gives oddly specific compliments, but he has good intentions

"you smell like a slutty fairy"

"is that supposed to be a good thing?"

"duh."

the same way he secretly loves watching soap operas with his mom, is the same way he loves watching all of your shows. like the oc, dawsons creek, whatever you're into!

he would give the best and most thoughtful homemade gifts. tb to when he gave lois little jars of jam! he'd probally do something similar but according to your taste <3

gets jealous easily

it's hot/ cute tho

memorized all your favorite pastries/baked goods n makes them for you when he's feeling nice/ as an apology if he messes up

#reese wilkerson x reader #reese wilkerson #malcolm wilkerson x reader #malcolm wilkerson #mitm x reader #mitm #francis wilkerson x reader #francis wilkerson #2000s aesthetic #2000s blog #fanfic #2000s #headcanon #lois wilkerson #hal wilkerson #dewey wilkerson #mitm headcanon #malcolm in the middle

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domjaehyun · 2 years

Text

I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH)

pairing. haechan x fem!reader (she’s kinda girly, so be on the lookout for that) genre. smut contents. weed consumption, smut (masturbation (fem), fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex), haechan’s a little flirt because we know i love him like that word count. 6.3k notes. i will stop writing stoner!haechan when it stops being fun. so never. inspired by this ask. enjoy :)

“Cannot believe you’re bailing on me,” You mutter angrily into the phone as you trudge across campus to Haechan’s dorm room.

“I’m sorry,” Areum whines, and you scoff. “I mean, it’s not like you really wanted me there, anyway—”

“Excuse me?”

“—and now you get Haechan all to yourself!” She finishes, and you splutter indignantly, huffing and puffing as you fail to come up with a worthy response.

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Areum snickers.

“Great defense. Everyone and their mother knows you and Haechan want each other—”

“Objection!” You cry emphatically, stumbling over a rock in the path. You stop short and glare at it before using the insole of your foot to kick it off your path and into the grassy area beside the sidewalk before continuing on your journey. “Hearsay!”

“Overruled.” Areum continues without missing a beat. “I just think this is a great opportunity to get what you’ve been itching after for, like, three semesters now. I mean, come on—weekly smoke sessions and you two never once got down and dirty?”

“You’re so vulgar,” You shudder, frowning and pulling the phone away from you when Areum cackles delightedly in your ear.

“You know I’m right.”

“I know nothing of the sort.”

“Sure, you don’t.” Areum doesn’t sound convinced. “That’s why you didn’t change your outfit into something cuter just to go to Haechan’s dorm—oh, wait.”

“Listen, I—” You start, but Areum cuts you off.

“Not listening to your lies.”

“You’re a bully.” You sniffle, and she snorts loudly in amusement. “Look at you! Laughing at my pain!”

“I’m laughing at how ridiculous you are,” She corrects you. “Also, I’m sorry, babe, but I gotta go now.”

“It’s all good! I’m here anyway,” You reply, smoothing your skirt down and freeing it of any wrinkles that may have manifested during your walk.

“Have fun,” Areum coos excitedly. ”Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“So, anal? Got it.”

“Wh—hey!”

“I had to get my little jab in where I could,” You apologize, grinning. and she sucks her teeth loudly. “Okay, I’ll see you later!” You bid your goodbyes and hang up, pocketing your phone and waiting patiently for someone who lives in Haechan’s dorm to let you into the building. Your savior comes soon after you start waiting, swiping his card and holding the door open for you. You thank him and make your way to Haechan’s room, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you’re face-to-wood with Haechan’s door. Shaking the nerves out of your hands, you knock three times and step back as you hear rustling on the other end.

The door opens and Haechan stands before you, wearing black sweats and a dark grey Nirvana t-shirt which is devastatingly flattering, and his brown hair is tousled nicely off his forehead, displaying his striking eyebrows, one of which is raised as he regards you while you study him.

“Well, well, well,” Haechan says slowly, licking his lips and grinning. “Someone was excited to see me.”

Looking behind him at the digital alarm clock sitting on his desk, you see that your walk from your dorm to his only took 15 minutes as opposed to your usual 20 minute walk when you and Areum head over. As a result, you’re early, and, judging by the grin on Haechan’s handsome face, he’s not about to let it go as quickly as you’d like.

“I didn’t even notice,” You reply, shifting your weight onto one foot as you rest your hand on your hip. “I was on the phone with Areum, so I didn’t even keep track of the time.”

“Sure, sure, sure. You could just say you were excited to see me.” Haechan smiles sweetly, and you blink at him. “I won’t judge.” He places his right hand over his heart and raises his left up as if swearing an oath, and you fail to stifle the giggle that escapes you at his serious expression. “Where is Areum, by the way?”

“Unfortunately, she can’t make it.” You answer with a sigh, and Haechan’s wicked little smirk that appears has your skin crawling with nerves.

“Unfortunately…” Haechan repeats slowly, the word leaving his mouth slowly like he’s mulling each syllable over. “Are you scared to be alone with me?” He asks with a suggestive raise of his brows, and you roll your eyes. “You can relax—I don’t bite.” He jokes, and you huff petulantly, leaning back in surprise when he leans forward abruptly, looking around conspiratorially before whispering, “I mean…unless you’re into that sort of thing,” Haechan topping the flirtatious remark off with a wink and a wiggle of his brows.

“Haechan, can I come in now?” You raise your own brow at him expectantly, and he chuckles, angling his body out of the way so you can breeze past him.

“Welcome, yet again, to room 304. Or, as I like to call it, my Man Cave.” Haechan shuts the door behind you, and you hear the faint click of the lock sliding into place. After swallowing the lump in your throat that feels an awful lot like a golf ball, you turn to face him to see that he’s already looking at you with a wry smile curling his lips.

“You call this your Man Cave?” You ask skeptically, looking around at the unassuming single bedroom dorm and back at Haechan.

“Sure do.”

“You should stop.” You reply sincerely, and he exclaims with a start, whipping his head around to look at you indignantly, making you laugh at his bewildered expression.

“You hush, and sit right here while I get everything set up.” Haechan quips with an attractive narrowing of his eyes, and you oblige, taking a seat perched on the edge of his bed while he busies about the room, turning on his Bluetooth speakers and opening his window. After he taps at his phone a few times, music filters in through the speakers, the introductory melody of a Michael Jackson song filling the room.

As Haechan collects his…materials, you softly sing along to the music, swaying and bobbing your head rhythmically. He turns to look at you over his shoulder with an impressed expression, brows raised in surprise.

“You know this song?” He asks incredulously, and you shoot him a confused look.

“Of course I do. ‘Chicago’ is such a good song.” You answer slowly, and the corner of his lips turns up in a crooked grin.

“Good girl,” He mutters, pleased, as he turns back to his desk, and the air practically whooshes out of your lungs as if you’ve been punched in the gut at his unexpected praise. Your sudden breathlessness must have been audible, because Haechan looks back at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “I see we enjoyed that.”

“Are you making fun of me?” You squeak, offended, and he grins widely.

“I don’t know, am I?” He teases, and you huff, crossing your arms in lieu of a response and tearing your gaze away to look at his posters on the walls. He lets out a soft chuckle before gathering the last of his things and heading over to sit in his windowsill, patting the empty space across from him with an inviting smile. You stand up from his bed and make your way to his windowsill, sitting across from him with your legs carefully crossed so you don’t give him an unintentional eyeful of your underwear from under your short, pleated skirt (even though you’re guessing it wouldn’t be unwelcome, based on the way his eyes hungrily rove over the bare flesh of your legs and thighs).

You watch in fascination as Haechan starts to pack and roll the joint, watching the veins in his hands flex and move under his tan skin and his nimble fingers deftly placing the nugs of weed in the grinder and twisting it around. You’re secretly grateful he’s so focused on doing everything right, because it gives you more than enough time to admire his hands and facial features.

You’re in the middle of a particularly explicit daydream involving Haechan’s fingers and your mouth when the pointed sound of his throat clearing snaps you out of your daze, and you look up to his face, heat flaring in your cheeks, to see that he’s watching you with a smugly amused grin.

“Hm?” You mumble, your mind still foggy, and he chuckles, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he speaks again.

“I asked if you wanted to learn how to roll.” He repeats himself, and you make a small noise of understanding.

“Oh…I can’t today,” You frown, holding up your hands and wiggling your freshly done, mere hours old acrylics at him. “I just got my nails done, so I’m scared to mess them up and I’m not as nimble with my fingers until I get used to them.”

“I understand,” He smiles sweetly, and you return the expression. “We can’t let the pretty girl’s nails get messed up, right?” He says with a crooked smile, and you blink twice at him before frowning.

“Are you making fun of me?” You ask for the second time this evening, and Haechan shakes his head.

“I would never.” He replies sincerely, and you relax, feeling more at ease. “Well…not about that, anyway.” Before you can protest at all, he hands you the rolled joint, and holds up his lighter in a silent offer. You lean in towards him, the warmth of the fire grazing your chin as he lights the joint for you, and you sit back against the windowsill, taking a long pull and letting the smoke slowly filter out through your nose, a dopey little smile overtaking your features as you pass him the joint. He brings it to his lips and pauses. “Tell me about your day.” He urges gently before taking a drag of the joint, his eyes unwaveringly on you, and you run your thumbs over the smooth surfaces of your nails nervously, not expecting to have to speak.

A stray breeze comes through the window, ruffling the end of your skirt and sending a brief shudder up your spine, and Haechan watches you, amused.

“You have goosebumps,” He remarks softly, leaning forward and tracing a small circle just above your bent knee as if to draw your attention to it, and if he notices that you suck in a breath in surprise, he politely chooses not to comment. “Are you cold?” He asks, continuing before you can answer, “Or do I just make you that nervous?” He’s grinning mischievously, and you roll your eyes, crinkling your nose up in faux distaste. “No, but for real,” He changes the subject, leaning back after passing you the joint. “What’d you do today? You know, besides look pretty.”

“Cheesy.” You mumble through a smile you can’t manage to hide. “Quit saying cheesy shit.”

“Quit being so fucking cute, and maybe I would actually consider stopping.” He retorts, and you pause mid-drag, just barely making it through the inhale without coughing and spluttering. “Your day,” He presses. “I won’t ask again.” Something about the finality in his voice has your mind spiraling into desiring thoughts, and you decide to speak before your mind can get too carried away.

“I didn’t do much today,” You murmur, thinking back. “I had class in the morning, which was boring. Then I went and got my nails done,” You say with a smile, and Haechan reaches over, pausing and looking at you to gauge your reaction before proceeding to pick up your hand not holding the joint, inspecting your nails.

“They look good,” He compliments, and your smile widens.

“Thanks,” You say, flattered. “I usually get coffin-shaped, but I ended up going with this shape, which they call ‘rounded stiletto,’” You say, sounding out the syllables slowly for emphasis, and he chuckles under his breath. “I went with a pink and orange gradient so it would look kinda like a sunset, and I got little clouds!” You chirp, and he stops inspecting your nails for a second to look up at you and smile fondly.

“Why clouds?” He asks curiously, and you shrug.

“Clouds are pretty,” You reply simply.

Haechan leans in closer to you, tightening his grip on your hand so you don’t pull away, and looks you directly in the eyes. “You’re pretty.” Your mouth opens and closes as you try and fail to come up with a response and he snickers quietly, his gaze slowly dropping to your lips. After what feels like ages in which time is frozen around the two of you as he stares longingly at your lips, he sits back, wiggling his brows flirtatiously before bringing your laced fingers to his mouth and kissing the back of your hand. You yank your hand out of his grip with a startled yelp, and he bursts out laughing, his head tipping back in mirth. “Ah, you’re so cute, seriously. What am I gonna do with you?” He sighs dreamily, watching you with hooded eyes and a small grin that tells you you’re not alone in your high.

“Stop making fun of me,” You huff, and he laughs.

“I’m not!” He promises sincerely. “Either way,” He continues, leaning forward again to make his point, “You know you liked it.” His voice lowering several pitches, you swallow thickly as he studies you carefully.

You sniff, looking away in an attempt to free yourself from his scrutiny. “That sounds like a cheesy line from a porno.”

Haechan’s brows shoot up in surprise. “You watch porn?”

“…Girls watch porn, too, Haechan.” You scoff, and he shakes his head dismissively.

“I know girls watch porn.” He counters, his gaze dragging down your body so intently that you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you. “I didn’t know you watch porn.” He takes a moment to process the new information before his eyes darken and his lips curl into a beguiling smile. “What kind of porn do you watch?”

“I’m not telling you that!” You exclaim indignantly, almost dropping the joint in surprise before you can pass it to him.

“Do you touch yourself when you watch it?“ He asks in a dangerously soft voice.

“No, Haechan. I watch it for the incredible cinematography and engaging plot lines.” You quip sarcastically, and he snickers. “Obviously, I watch it for that reason.”

“…Show me how.” You look up in surprise as the words finish leaving his mouth and he’s staring at you with hooded, dark eyes, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

“Absolutely not!” You squawk indignantly. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Aww, come on,” He coos, smiling wider. “What’s a little secret show between friends?”

“We’re friends now?” You blurt out without thinking, and could slap your hand over your face in anguish at the way his eyes twinkle like you’ve walked directly into a trap.

“I don’t know,” He lilts playfully, pausing to take a drag and blow a series of smoke rings out the window. “If we’re not friends, then what are we?”

“…I’m cold,” You lie, avoiding the topic entirely and standing up from the windowsill. He jerks his chin towards his bed and you sit on it, getting comfortable. For some reason, you didn’t expect Haechan to follow you to his bed, but that’s exactly what he does, the male sitting right next to you and shooting you a teasing little smirk.

“I’m cold, too.” He defends himself, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m keeping my eyes on you.” You mutter skeptically, and he leans over, nudging your shoulder with his.

“I like having your eyes on me.” He replies, entirely shameless in his delivery, and you blink in surprise, stammering uselessly before giving up and looking down at your lap.

“I, uh…I think the joint’s basically done,” You point out quietly, and he looks down at the now minuscule remnant, nodding in agreement and stubbing it out on the ashtray.

“I’m gonna roll another one,” He murmurs thoughtfully, casting you a side glance. “You want some?”

“I might; I don’t know yet.” You mumble, feeling plenty high with the amount you’ve already taken in, and he nods understandingly.

“No pressure, okay?” He says softly, and you smile at him, a nervous giggle bubbling past your lips that builds into full blown laughter at absolutely nothing. “I love when you get the giggles.” He remarks earnestly, a fond smile on his lips as he watches you try and fail to stifle your laughter; it may have started from nerves, but now you’re laughing at the fact that nothing’s funny, yet you can’t stop laughing. Your giggles persist as Haechan starts rolling the second joint, but come to an abrupt stop when Haechan brings it to his mouth and drags his tongue along the paper to seal it. Your mouth’s never felt drier than right now, your eyes trained on his wet, pink tongue longingly, and you look up at his eyes a moment before he looks at you.

“You like watching me lick the joint?” He asks with an amused smirk, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed pushing you to be honest or if you’re truly just sick of all the tension building up, but you nod in a daze. “Mm, yeah?” He murmurs suggestively. “Bet my tongue feels even better than it looks.”

“Sh-Shut up.” You mumble.

“Make me.” His challenging statement comes in the silence between songs and it feels as if it takes ages for the next song to play, the moment suspended in the thick silence between you two. “Come on…” He purrs, leaning closer to you with a devious smile. “You know you want it, too.”

“T-Too?” Your voice comes out as a squeak as you try to reposition yourself as subtly as possible, bringing your back off of the wall behind you and instead turning so you’re fully facing Haechan. He’s all too eager to mirror your actions, the two of you now facing each other on his bed, both of your legs crossed.

“‘Too?’” He copies your voice, smirking in amusement, before leaning in towards you. You lean back nervously, and his smile just widens as he crawls towards you, pursuing you until you’re on your back and he’s hovering over you. “Yeah, too.” When you nervously avert your gaze, he makes a cute little noise of disappointment, pouting at you when you look back at him. “I thought you were keeping those pretty eyes on me, angel?”

“…Are you making fun of me?” You ask for what feels like the millionth time this evening, and Haechan just laughs quietly.

“Yes.” He murmurs, and his lips are on yours without another moment to waste. You suppose you knew it was coming, but you squeal in surprise anyway, the sound melting into a moan when Haechan cups your face, his hand slowly gliding to caress the back of your neck. “Wait,” He mumbles against your lips, sitting up and leaning his back against the wall. “C’mere.”

“Huh?” In your aroused, drug-induced haze, you completely miss the cue he throws at you, and he grins, leaning forward to grab your hand and pull you up, guiding you towards him.

“Get,” He mutters insistently, “your cute little ass over here.” He practically yanks you into his lap and you land clumsily against his chest, your hands barely holding yourself up. His hands roam over your bare thighs greedily as you move to straddle him, and when you stop at a slight hover over his lap, he grunts, “I want to feel you,” and tugs on your hips until you’re sitting directly on his lap, both of you letting out a sound of pleasure at the feeling of your bodies pressed together.

“Fuck, want you so bad.” He groans, pulling you in for another kiss by the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your cheek gently and rhythmically as he sucks on your bottom lip, nibbling the flesh lightly, his free hand roaming up your thigh and hiking up your skirt.

“Need you, Haechan,” You gasp, and he grins widely, his hand slipping between your legs. When you moan and rock your hips down on his hand, he grunts appreciatively and sponges wet kisses from your lips to just behind your ear, his lips brushing the lobe gently.

“Always thought you were out of my league, you know,” Haechan murmurs against your skin, and you shake your head vehemently. “I did,” He insists, and you shake your head again.

“I’m not out of your league.” You pant as his fingers slip into your underwear, finding the small bud nestled in your folds and swirling his arousal-coated fingers around it slowly.

“You are,” He insists, tweaking your clit like a button and grinning when you inhale sharply. “I’m taking advantage of you,” He coos, kissing down your neck and sucking at a spot just above your collarbone, “and your momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Haechan, stop saying that—”

“Be quiet,” Haechan shushes you, “and kiss me before you come to your senses.” The irony isn’t lost on you as his fingers gradually wind you up more and more and bring you further and further from your sensibility, leaving you desperate and wanting. You kiss him eagerly, whining against his lips when he licks into your mouth and wraps his lips around your tongue to suck. The hand gripping your neck slides down your front and up your shirt, snaking first to your back and unclipping your bra with ease before returning to your front to cup your breast.

“That was easy,” You manage to mumble, and he smiles into your kiss.

“I’m good with my hands,” He hums. “Wanna see?” His voice lowers slightly, a suggestive lilt to his delivery, and you nod before you even know you’re doing it, subtly spreading your legs wider to invite him to touch you further. He lets out a breathless laugh before his hand up your shirt snakes around to your front and cups your breast, kneading the flesh and digging his fingers into the mound. “Take this off.” He urges, yanking at the hem of your shirt, and you oblige, pulling back slightly to pull it over your head. The second a new inch of skin is revealed, Haechan’s lips are all over it, sucking and licking at the swell of your breasts, your collarbones, your shoulders, and he pushes your bra straps off your shoulders impatiently, snatching your bra off and tossing it where you dropped your shirt.

“Haechan,” You whine, bucking upwards into his hand as his fingers leisurely swirl around your clit. He chuckles, fingers dipping lower to tease at your entrance but not push in just yet. “Please,” You say desperately, and he coos fondly at you, tugging at your nipple and relishing the squeal you let out.

“Please, what?” He teases, and you sit back, glaring at him.

“I’m sitting on your lap half-naked with one of your hands up my skirt.” You say slowly. “Don’t be dense.”

“Maybe I want to hear you use your words.” He replies, both hands moving to glide up and down your sides, groping at your hips and thighs.

“Don’t make me say it,” You complain, and he grins, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours.

“That’s exactly what I’m making you do.” He taunts, flicking his tongue against your bottom lip. When you whine softly, his gaze darkens and excitement travels down your spine and warm desire blooms in your lower abdomen and between your legs. As if he can feel it, he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing small circles into it and grinning when you rock your hips into his touch.

“Touch me,” You exhale, unable to wait for much longer, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I am touching you.”

“Oh, my God—”

“You’re doing so well, baby,” He assures you, smiling fondly up at you. “Just tell me a little more.”

“…Can you touch me more?” You ask softly, and he licks his bottom lip, staring up at you with dark eyes. “Under my clothes.” You add, and he chuckles, his hand on your breast sliding down to grip your hip and guide your slow, undulating movements against his lap. He lifts his hips up to meet yours and you let out a loud gasp, your hands falling to his shoulders.

“I can do that for you,” He agrees, and you nibble your bottom lip when he slips his hand into your underwear, fingers dipping below your clit to gather your wetness onto his fingers. “Who are you this wet for, hm?”

“You,” You hum dreamily, a dopey smile on your lips as you watch the male under you slowly lose his mind at the feeling of your slick folds. “Only you.”

“Yeah, you’ve definitely lost your mind,” Haechan breathes, staring up at you in awe. “And you’re gonna make me lose mine if you keep it up.”

“Haechan,” You huff, and he coos sweetly, tilting his head up to slot his lips with yours. Your kiss slowly turns into a slack-jawed pant against his lips as his fingers tease at your entrance and around your clit, tweaking the bud between his fingers.

“Kinda wanna make you cum on my lap right now,” Haechan mumbles thoughtfully, and you nod, nails digging into his shoulders slightly. “You want that?” He teases, and you frown, sighing in aggravation.

“Yes, Haechan.” You insist, rocking against him for good measure. His free hand is quick to guide you, rocking you against him harder and deeper, slowing your motions down until you can feel every delicious movement of his clothed length pressing against your core. “Please?”

“God, so fucking cute when you beg.” He grunts, bucking his hips upwards into you. A broken moan escapes you and he presses his lips to your neck, sucking, licking, and kissing. His fingers around your clit rub faster and he smiles against your skin when his name slips from your lips plaintively. “Y’know what?” He mumbles, and you blink down at him blearily. “Lie down for me.” He gently guides you to lie down on his bed, his pillow’s comforting scent of his shampoo and conditioner and, admittedly, weed surrounding you and soothing your pounding heart. “I want you to show me how you touch yourself.” He urges, and your eyes widen when he gingerly spreads your thighs enough to tug your underwear down and off of your legs.

“Oh, my God–” You mumble, covering your face in shame as your cheeks heat up, and he’s quick to shush you, gently looping his fingers around your wrists and bringing them down to rest by your hips.

“It’s okay, baby.” He murmurs comfortingly. He sits back on his bed, studying you with fascination before reaching over you slightly to grab the joint he was rolling. “Give me something pretty to look at while I roll?” He coaxes, and you whimper in defeat, spreading your legs a bit wider before bringing your hand between your legs. His gaze darkens and his movements falter slightly as he watches you, making heat rush to your face, but you swallow your nerves and trail two tentative fingers around your clit, tensing when you brush its sensitive underside. “Yeah, just like that,” He mumbles distractedly, voice low and thick with arousal.

“Haechan,” You whine, starting to rub tighter, more confident circles around the fleshy bud and Haechan’s body jolts slightly when your breath hitches in desire.

“Keep going, baby,” He urges, and your head tips back, your free hand moving to grab at your chest, squeezing your breast and pinching the nipple, gently rolling it between your fingers. His muscle memory comes in handy as he rolls the joint all without looking away from you, eyes trained to the sight that is your glistening fingers stroking your clit. “Talk to me; tell me what you do when you’re all alone touching your pretty little pussy.”

“Um,” You exhale shakily, your core clenching around nothing from his praise. “I just rub it in circles like this,” Your voice pitching upwards when you bump your clit again, and Haechan sucks in a sharp breath, nodding encouragingly. “Sometimes I touch myself here,” You’re practically slurring your words as you squeeze your breast again, the arousal clouding your mind, and Haechan looks every bit as affected as you feel, leaning towards you with every shaky breath you let out.

“Keep going,” Haechan coaxes, setting the finished joint aside on the rolling tray and leaning forward more, his hand grazing up your leg from your ankle to your skirt, flipping it up and out of the way. “That’s better,” He purrs, grinning up at you.

“Then I speed up—like this—” You whine, and he licks his lips when your hips buck up towards your hand. “And it feels so good—Haechan, I’m not gonna last for long—”

“Nah, fuck it,” Haechan mutters, lurching forward and settling between your thighs. He snatches your hand away and, before you can protest the lack of stimulation, replaces your fingers with his tongue, rapidly circling your clit with greedy, hot strokes.

“Oh, shit–” You gasp, voice embarrassingly whiny and breathy as he laps at your arousal. You draw back from him in surprise, and he tsks in disapproval, hands gripping your thighs.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” He teases, forcing your legs back apart and pinning them in place. “Not after I’ve already gotten a taste.”

Your head falls back against the headboard as he laps at your pussy. His hand slides over to your hip, lacing his fingers with yours as he flicks his tongue over your clit quickly.

“Feels so good,” You whine, and he nods, groaning into your wetness before bringing his free hand up your leg and to your entrance, tracing around it to gather your slick before pushing two fingers into you and curling them to press against the bundle of nerves along your inner walls that has you crying out loudly.

“Right there?” He asks with a muffled chuckle, and you nod vigorously as he sucks your clit into his mouth, massaging the underside with his tongue as he fucks his fingers into you.

“God, fuck,” You pant. His eyes are practically boring into yours at this point, the male greedily drinking up your taste and your reactions as he delivers wet lash after lash to your core, his fingers making an embarrassingly loud wet noise with every thrust into you.

“Want you to cum,” He mutters dazedly against your clit, and the vibrations draw a sharp whine from your throat, a breathy assent tumbling from your lips. “Mm, yeah?” He looks up at you with a grin before flicking his tongue in the air in your direction and returning his mouth to your core.

“Gonna cum,” You exhale loudly, and he growls against your skin, fingers speeding up to evoke poorly restrained moans as you hit your peak, whimpering his name repeatedly as pleasure floods your system. It’s not until you open your eyes—which you didn’t know you had closed—and look down at Haechan that you notice just how hungry his stare is.

“Stay right there,” He urges, pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth, much to your embarrassment. “Looking so fucking pretty,” He mumbles in awe, seemingly unaware of the way you squirm shyly under his intense gaze. He reaches for the previously abandoned joint and puts it between his lips, taking a moment to light the end of it and take a long drag. When he pulls the joint from his lips, he exhales slowly, blowing smoke rings towards the window.

“Show off,” You mutter with a smile, and he grins.

“Only for you, pretty. Want some?” He offers, and you sit up slightly to take a hit, but he shakes his head and gingerly presses on your shoulder to push you back into a lying position. “Take it like this.” His voice is barely above a murmur before he takes another long drag and leans over you, stubbing the joint out and sealing his lips over yours. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before your eyelids start feeling heavy from desire and the weed traveling through your system. Haechan exhales the smoke into your mouth, tilting your chin up towards him, and licks at your bottom lip, his tongue slipping in to taste you.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, the realization making you feel dirty in the best of ways, and he cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as you feel the residual warmth of the joint between his fingers dangerously close to your skin. As if he can sense your concern, Haechan pulls back slightly, shifting his gaze to his nightstand where he moves to place the joint.

“Haechan?” You murmur when his lips meet yours again, the male gently sucking on your bottom lip.

“Mm?”

“I need you.”

“I’m all yours.” He teases, and you groan in frustration, canting your hips up into his.

“Inside of me.” You emphasize, and you can practically taste his smile of satisfaction. “Please?” You try weakly, and an appreciative hum sounds from deep in his chest.

“Anything for you, baby.” He rocks back onto his knees and slowly, almost tauntingly, undoes his pants as he quietly sings along to the Post Malone song playing through his speakers. “Oh, girl, I like you, I do,” He sings to you with a dopey smile that only widens when you giggle up at him.

“Hurry up,” You whine through your laughter, and he waves you off, finally freeing his length from the confines of his sweats. He raises one eyebrow, grinning smugly when your eyes go wide at the sight of his hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Oh,” You mumble, breathless.

“Oh.” He mimics you with a chuckle, nudging your knees apart and moving to situate himself at your entrance. He stops for a moment as if he’s forgotten something and leans over to his nightstand, reaching for his top drawer. When he pulls back with a condom in hand, you gently take it from him and place it back down on the nightstand.

“I want to feel you,” You lilt, hooking your legs around the backs of his thighs. “All of you.”

“You’re gonna drive me fucking crazy,” Haechan exhales in awe, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance and rubbing it up and down your folds, collecting your arousal. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, and he pushes into you slowly, hissing as he bottoms out and your walls tighten around him. “So big,” You mewl, nails digging into his back, and he groans loudly, his head falling back.

“So fuckin’ tight,” He mutters through clenched teeth, and he pulls out of you slowly, pushing back in until you stop him with a hand pressed to his stomach.

“Too much,” You breathe out, and his brows furrow sympathetically.

“C’mere,” He suggests, pulling out of you and pulling you towards him until he’s sitting against the wall and you’re straddling his lap. “Let’s try like this?” He offers, and you nod, swallowing thickly as you ease yourself back down onto his length. The stretch is slightly more bearable than before, the control he’s given you helping you cope with his sheer size, and you lift your hips back up and tentatively start to bounce in his lap, his hands gripping your hips to guide you. “Pussy feels so good around my cock, baby.”

“Feels so good,” You echo, too overwhelmed to come up with your own words. Haechan’s fingers snake up to grope at your chest, the male leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple and suck, pretty brown eyes studying your blissed-out expression as he laps at your nipple.

After some time, Haechan switches to your other breast and repeats his actions, sucking happily. You rest one hand on his shoulder and the other on top of his hand on your hip, Haechan not hesitating to turn his palm upwards and hold your hand.

“Doing so well, baby,” He coos, sponging damp kisses up from your breast to your neck, lips attaching to your neck and sucking greedily.

When you start rocking your hips forward with every downward movement, your clit starts receiving some of the friction you’ve been craving, and a small shudder of relief travels down your spine as that tugging sensation in your lower abdomen starts to build.

“Listen to how wet you are,” He purrs in your ear before nibbling at the lobe, and you cry out weakly, your walls clenching around him as the wet sounds of his length moving inside of you become more prominent in the room. “Sounds so fucking hot.” Your nails bite into his shoulder and he hisses in a mix of pain and pleasure, turning his head inward to kiss your wrist.

“Haechan, I’m close,” You whine, and he nods, using his hand on your hip to guide you when your movements start to falter.

“I’m right behind you,” He grunts, and with a well-timed suck at the spot behind your ear, he brings you to your peak again with a loud moan of his name, Haechan swearing in a hiss as he finishes inside of you, his eyes screwing shut tightly. Slowly, your hips come to a stop, settling down so his cock is fully sheathed in your warmth, and his eyes reopen slowly to focus on you with bliss etched in his every feature. “You’re amazing.” He mumbles, and you smile widely, leaning forward to kiss him briefly on the lips.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” You reply as casually as possible, and he laughs incredulously, narrowing his eyes at you playfully.

“‘Not too bad,’ huh?” He echoes, and you nod, smiling widely. “I’m gonna need to do better than that, then, huh?” When you shrug, he raises his eyebrows as if to say “Is that so?”

“Maybe,” You answer with a teasing grin, and he matches your expression, pulling you in for another heated kiss by the back of your neck.

“Good thing I have all night to do even better.”

thank you for reading!! tips and/or feedback are greatly appreciated. :) ko-fi | cashapp | venmo | wishlist (if you’d like to support via paypal, please message off anon!)

#haechan smut #nct smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #donghyuck smut

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joshlmbrt · 4 months

Text

FRIDAY THE 13TH. ST CAST x r

characters; steve harrington, eddie munson, jonathan byers, nancy wheeler, robin buckley, jim hopper.

!!!!!W; PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING! based in the 80s, inspired by FRIDAY THE 13TH, steve & eddie will wear a crop top and cut off levi’s - trust!, this one is sort of long, breaking into a old campsite, violence, blood, someone sacrifices themselves for you because of looooove - ooooo, murder.

soundtrack; house of the rising sun - the animals, smells like teen spirit - nirvana, creeping death - metallica, for whom the bell tolls - metallica

an; really fun to write their dynamic and a long one!! let me know if you like longer fics or shorter - and if you enjoyed this one!!

SHOWINGS. | MOODBOARD.

FOREST HILLS TRAILER PARK.

You climb out of Nancy’s car, groaning at the heat. The knitted top and shorts you had put on were no help.

“Why didn’t you put on different shoes?” Robin lifts her brows, eyes looking at your brown boots.

You pout. “These matched. Hopefully Eddie’s air conditioner is working.” Making your way towards the homemade wooden porch - one Eddie broke one night and had to fix - you yank open the door and step inside.

Luckily it was working. You let out a sigh and plop down on the worn flannel couch.

You hear a whistle. “Well, hello.” Eddie stares down at you, grinning.

You open an eye and peek up at him, lifting a brow. “What do you want?”

“I’m offended you think I want something.”

“You only compliment me when you do want something.”

“This time I don’t want anything. Promise.”

You narrow your eyes at him, humming slightly before closing your eyes, counting down in your head.

Andddd…. 1.

“Can you cut a couple of these tops for me?” He holds up the selection of tops.

“Knew it,” You grin, sitting up. “Give me some scissors.”

He nods, dropping them onto the coffee table, walking towards the kitchen, opening a drawer. Nancy and Robin steps inside the trailer.

“Oh, it is working.” Robin sighs, sitting in front of the cool air, letting out a sigh as it blows onto her skin. Nancy sits next to you.

Eddie hands you the scissors. You grab them from his hands. “Where do you want me to cut it?”

“Across here,” He makes a line straight across the stomach of the shirt. “And here,” He points to the sleeves. “But only two shirts with cut off sleeves.”

“You got it.” You nod, cutting into the fabric.

The door opens, Steve groaning as he drops the bags down to the ground. “I really hope the air in your van is working. It’s like a million degrees out there.” Steve walks towards the refrigerator.

“Checked it the other day,” Eddie says, eyes glancing over a magazine, reebok foot resting on the coffee table. “It works just fine.”

“You said that the last time.” Jonathan says, sitting next to Robin, sighing as the air hits his face. Steve makes his way back, sitting on the arm of the couch next to you.

You glance over at him, smiling softly before quickly looking down. Eddie’s eyes watches the both of you, smirking behind the magazine.

“I swear on my life, it’s working!” Eddie shuts the magazine, rolling it up as he stands. He hits the top of Steve’s head.

“Nance, Robin, you’re up front with me.”

“I get motion sickness in the back.” Jonathan frowns.

“Then go to sleep?” Eddie lifts his brows. Jonathan sighs, shaking his head. You fold the shirts, standing and handing them over to Eddie. “Everyone ready to go?”

“You have the cooler packed?” Steve asks.

“And the bag with food and snacks?” You tilt your head.

“You both think so little of me.” He presses a hand to his chest.

Steve rolls his eyes, standing. “Because last time you said it was packed-”

You cut Steve off to finish. “You carried the bag and it was empty. The last time you said you had it in the van, ready to go and definitely packed-”

Robin cuts you off this time. “You had left all the food and drinks here.”

“And camping was your idea.” Nancy points out, standing. Robin and Jonathan stand as well.

Eddie rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys to the house and van. “Well, excuse me for being a bit scatterbrained and wanting to have fun with my friends.”

“Steve and Jonathan should double check.” Robin says. Eddie frowns and stares at her.

“Just to be sure. It doesn’t hurt,” You shrug. “Besides. I have to use the bathroom.” You walk past Steve.

“Hurry up. It’d be a shame if you were left behind!”

“Would be such a shame.” You look back at him, before stepping into the bathroom.

⛏

The road was bumpy, your hand landing on top of Steve’s for a mere minute. You glance at your hands, blushing and pulling it away quickly.

Steve smirks a bit, pretty eyes peering at you through his lashes.

The van stops abruptly, the side of Steve’s head smacking into the hunk of metal. The back door opens, Eddie standing with frazzled hair from the rolled down window - because the air did not work like he said it would - grinning.

“Hopefully it wasn’t too bumpy and Byers didn’t puke.”

“He slept the whole time,” Steve grumbles, hopping down onto the ground. He holds his hand out to you. “When we leave, I drive.”

“Sounds like a plan. I want to sleep on the way back.” He takes his bags, walking away. Steve rolls his eyes, grabbing his bags and one of your own.

“I can carry it, Stevie.”

“No. It’s okay,” He smiles. “I got it.”

“You have got to be kidding me, Munson!” Robin exclaims from the front. You and Steve both share a look, walking around to the front.

“What?!”

“Are you- You’re not seriously thinking about breaking into a summer camp are you? A shut down one at that!”

“Oh, stop being so silly, Robin,” He rolls his eyes, walking towards the chained gate. “You should know I’m not thinking about it,” He drops his bag down to the ground, unzipping it. “I already thought ahead to it.” He pulls out pilers and showing them to her with a grin.

“I’m not sleeping in there. There could be… I don’t know, people- serial killers hiding in there!”

He cuts the chain open with a grunt, watching as it unravels to the dirt ground, pushing the gate open with a creak. “Well, I have blankets in the van if you’d like to sleep in there, alone.”

“What do you guys think about this?” She turns to you, Steve, and Nancy. Jonathan soon joins, scratching at his head as he yawns.

“Oh, wait,” He looks at the chosen campsite. “This is cool.”

“What?!” Robin throws her arms up.

“Oh, come on, Rob,” Nancy grabs her hand. “It could be cool! We’ll all be together, the vans right here if anything happens-”

“Yes. Because that makes me change my mind.”

“All I’m saying is, we can make a quick run for it. It could be cool. You’ll be sad if you missed out.” She shrugs, walking towards Eddie.

Robin sighs and turns to you and Steve. “What do you two think about this?”

“Well… It’s crazy, but…”

“But….?” She lifts a brow.

“It’s just a one time thing.” Steve shrugs.

She sighs and shakes her head. Leaning down, she grabs the bag from the ground. “Okay. But I’m telling you, if there is some crazy, serial killer here, I’m leaving you all to die.”

Eddie chortles. “So great you think highly of us.”

⛏️

A bit of cherry juice drops down your arm, your other hand wiping it up with a napkin. Your eyes stay trained on Steve - who looked particularly good in the cut off green faded Hawkins high shirt and Levi cut off jeans - tossing the baseball towards Jonathan.

He holds his hand up, Jonathan pausing and tossing the ball into the air. Steve lets out a heaving breath, hunching over as his hands rest on his knees, hair sticking to his forehead that was slick with sweat.

Eddie was lounging out on the blanket, Robin snickering everytime she placed a rock in his hair without him noticing.

“You’re drooling.” Nancy leans up, wiping at the corner of your mouth.

You roll your eyes, swatting her hand away. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are,” Eddie says. “And my eyes are closed.” You roll your eyes, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“Who’s ready to eat?” Steve asks, making his way towards the four of you, Jonathan behind him.

“Me! I’ll start the fire.” Eddie sits up, a bunch of rocks falling from his head. He narrows his eyes at Robin.

She laughs.

⛏️

“Have you ever heard the reason why this place closed down?” Eddie asks, wiping some marshmallow from the corner of his lip.

You groan mentally while Robin voices it, tossing her head back. “If i’m sleeping out here, Munson, I do not want to be hearing no spooky stories,” She stares at him now, pointing a finger at him. “We are in the middle of nowhere. In the woods. And no one knows where we are.”

“What’s camping without a scary story around the fire?”

“Start without me,” Jonathan says, standing from his spot. He grabs the flashlight. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He turns it on, Robin squinting as it hits her face. He turns and walks towards the wooded area.

“This better not be a planned scare, dingus!” She calls after him, before looking at Eddie. “It better not be.” Eddie smirks, humming. “Well… hold on to your socks, Buckley.” She grumbles as she takes another bite of a graham cracker. You and Steve share a look, a small smile on each of your faces. There’s a snap somewhere in the distance.

“Eddie, I swear-”

“I didn’t plan nothing,” Eddie sighs, dropping the smirk. “Probably Byers playing some sick joke or something. Anyway, I’m going to start the story,” He clears his throat. “Picture it, Camp Redwood 1975-”

“What is this? Golden Girls?” Steve lifts a brow. He caught the show with you at times.

Eddie narrows his eyes at him, effectively shutting him up. Steve leans back on his hands, shoulder brushing with yours.

“As I was saying, it was 1975, camp counselors would always come two days earlier - to figure out what they were doing and where everything was - and the last day they had without any sticky fingered gremlins with snotty noses, they would always have a little camp out themselves, throw a little party without any of the adults knowing,”

“Of course.” Robin mutters. Nancy nudges her shoulder with her own.

Eddie smirks, the fire reflecting off of his eyes, highlight his face in a glow. His eyes trail over everyone one by one. “It was going to be fun… Until, they were-”

There’s another snap in the distance, causing him to stop, eyes shooting up and looking towards the sound.

“Eddie,” Robin grits. “I swear… I’m too young to die.”

He rolls his eyes, standing and dusting off his pants. “Again, it’s probably just Jonathan playing some sick joke. I’ll go see.” He walks towards the trees. He stops, letting out a chuckle.

“See,” He looks back at the group. “I was right. It was-” He stumbles back when he feels a weight drop into his front. He grunts, hands shooting out and gripping the boys shoulders. “Anddd it’s time for you to slow down on the beer.” He chuckles.

You slowly stand to your feet, tilting your head when Jonathan chokes on a cough, something spilling from his mouth and onto Eddie’s arm.

Eddie makes a noise, stumbling back from him. His eyes widen when he looks down at his arms before looking up at Jonathan again.

The boy falls to his knees, more stuff slipping out of his mouth. You step closer, eyes widening when you see what it actually is.

Blood.

Jonathan looks up at you. “Help m-” He’s choking on the words, more blood spilling at his mouth. Your eyes drop down towards the sharp end of metal poking out of his chest.

You let out a scream, watching as it slips from him when he falls to the ground. A man - 6’1 in a dirty mask - stands behind him, arm lowering to his side. Eddie’s hand grabs your wrist, pulling you away.

“Go!” He yells. You run a different way, eyes burning with tears as your legs burn. You slide in behind a cabin, breath coming out roughly. Your hair sticks to your forehead from sweat.

You flinch when you feel something drop onto your skin. You peek up at the sky, feeling more droplets fall onto your skin before the rain slowly becomes a downpour.

A hand wraps around your mouth. “Shhh… It’s me, it’s okay.” Steve whispers in your ear. You pull your face away from him, glancing up at him.

“W…Where’s everyone else?”

Steve’s brows pinch together, eyes closing. “Nancy… she, uh-”

You let out a shuddering breath, shaking your head. “No… No, she’s not dead.”

“I’m sorry… I tried to help her, I couldn’t. He grabbed her before I-” He stops, hearing a snap next to the cabin. His hand slips into yours, gripping tightly.

“It’s me! Don’t scream.” Robin holds her hands out in front of her.

You let out a breath, walking towards her and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Where’s Eddie?” Steve whispers.

“I have no idea… But we need to run to the van. Maybe he’s already there.” Robin pulls away from you. You both nod.

Steve peeks his head out, eyes checking to be sure everything was clear. “Okay… It looks clear, but he could be hiding… I’ll go first.”

Robin’s hand grabs yours. You squeeze once, walking in behind Steve, hand gripping onto the wet material of his top.

You feel her hand slip from yours. Before you could turn, there’s a choked sound coming from her mouth and a squelching noise as she falls to the wet ground.

You turn, eyes widening at the sight of her clutching her throat, chest heaving.

Steve lets out a breath, pulling you along. “No! Steve! We can’t just-”

“We can’t save her! We’re too far out from a hospital! We need to make it back to the-" He stops, eyes glancing over your shoulder, face dropping. He pulls you out of the way in a quick movement, gasping when the metal slices deep into his chest.

Blood soaks the back of his shirt, his knees buckling from underneath him. You let out another scream, your ears ringing.

Steve turns his head. “Run.” He chokes out. A dirty boot comes up, pushing his chest away from the sharp metal. Your eyes stare at the blood dripping down into the dirt, slowly trailing to Steve. There’s a dirty footprint from the boot and blood trailing down his stomach.

Your eyes finally snap up, staring at the masked man. You turn and start to run, your boots rubbing at the tender skin of your ankle.

You glance back checking over your shoulder, hair sticking to your chin. You scream when you bump into something, hands gripping your shoulders.

“Hey! It’s okay! You’re okay!”

You stare up at the man, letting out a shuddering breath, tears mixing in with the rain. “He- Their all dead! He killed them!” You sob, eyes finally landing on Eddie laying on the ground by the van.

He was going to leave you all.

“Who? Who was it?”

Your hand comes up and rests on your forehead as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I-I don’t know! He had a mask on!”

Hopper nods, patting your shoulder as he turns to Callahan. “Let’s go check. Call for backup,” He turns to you. “Stay here.” He pulls his gun from his holster. You nod, turning and watching as he steps into the camp ground, guns and flashlights pointed straight in front of him.

“Chief! Watch-” It was too late. Three gunshots ring out, echoing through the woods, another round being released.

You shake your head, turning and running as far as you could, checking behind your shoulder to be sure you were alone.

⛏️

Thighs and quads burning, hours pass, the sun was slowly raising, rain still down pouring and soaking through your clothes - the material sticking to your skin.

You wanted to scream.

You were alone.

Your friends were dead.

You walk along the side of the main road, eyes squinted, arms crossed, as you stare at the raising sun in the horizon.

‘NO PLACE TO HIDE.’

⛏️ ST tags; @officerrrfriendly, @ali-r3n, @lavendermunson, @queercodedcharacter, @halflifejess, @whisperingwillowxox, @keerygal, @alltoomay, @hazydespair

⛏️ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, requests, likes, & feedback is encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!

#cherry writes ✿#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #robin buckley x reader

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wannab-urs · 7 months

Note

For the sleepover

Do me a favor

My baby boy, Dieter

Congratulations again babe! I love you!

Thank you bb I love you and I'm really excited about this fic

For the Record

Pairing: Record Shop Owner!Dieter x f!Reader

Summary: You go to a record store looking for something specific and end up on a date with the owner.

Warnings/Content: Dieter Bravo being Dieter Bravo, excessive name dropping of bands I like, grungy Dieter wearing Doc Martens and covered in tattoos, reader going to a strangers house like an idiot, kissing, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv (this is not real life. Don’t be dumb), one tiny little ass slap, praise, creampie, no use of Y/N, WC: ~2900

Notes: Bravo Records is based on Grimey’s in Nashville, TN which you should absolutely visit if you get the chance. Unfortunately it isn’t owned by Dieter Bravo. Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read and the encouragement <;3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You’re on the hunt for a Replacements' album, Tim, specifically. Ironically, you’re replacing it in your collection, having lost it to your ex boyfriend. Note to self: never combine your record collection with anyone ever again.

This morning you’d googled “record shops near me” and scrolled past Walmart and Target, no thank you, and settled on Bravo Records. The blurb advertised it as a “Laid-back music shop specializing in vintage, pressed recordings, CDs & cassette tapes,” and mentioned a bookstore in the basement and a consignment shop out back.

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, you take in the building. There are murals depicting perfect recreations of album covers on the brick walls of the store. If you couldn’t see the brushstrokes when you got up close, you’d think they were somehow printed on. The bright yellow of Metallica’s 72 Seasons, the hands reaching for the sky on Boygenius’ The Record, both newer releases. But there’s also The Clash’s London Calling and The Stooges’ Fun House.

Whoever owns this place has taste. You step into the shop, eyes immediately drawn to the oddly curved ceiling and the exposed brick walls, covered in posters and random paintings. There are 6 sets of shelves running almost the entire length of the store up to a small clearing in the back. There’s a surprisingly large stage beyond that, someone playing the guitar and reciting poetry, a smattering of people leaned against the shelves, listening.

“Welcome to Bravo’s,” a deep but cheery voice rings in your ear. You let out a small yelp and turn sharply to face the source. “Oh! Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just downstairs and heard the door… I’m Dieter, by the way.”

You take in the man now standing in front of you. He’s wearing a very faded Nirvana shirt stretched within an inch of its life across his broad chest and shoulders. It probably used to be black, but now it’s a bit gray, and there are holes in the seams of the collar. His wide legged pants are black and flowy, you almost mistake them for a skirt until he leans against the counter and crosses his legs. His Docs are scuffed, clearly worn in, maybe vintage. You trail your eyes back up his body, noting the various tattoos on his hands and arms, all black ink and thick linework. You settle back on his face and find his eyebrows arched over deep brown eyes, plush lips in a pout. His beard is scruffy, patchy, and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed.

“Find anything you like?” He smirks at you and you suddenly realize you just silently checked him out for a good 10 seconds. Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat.

“Um… I’m looking for Tim? The album I mean, not the guy, I don’t even know a Tim. By the Replacements? Do you know it?” You sound like an idiot oh god.

He barely restrains a chuckle, mirth dancing in his eyes, “Yeah, I know it. I only have a first pressing in the original sleeve… is that okay?” He crosses his arms over his chest and holy shit. His biceps are huge. You bite your lip and nod.

“Yes! Er… um. How much is it?” You wince. There’s no way it’s gonna fit in your pitifully small budget.

Dieter tilts his head to the side and scrunches his eyebrows up, two lines forming between them. He brings a hand to his unruly hair and tugs. So that’s why he looks like he just got thoroughly fucked. He perks his head up suddenly, almost like he heard your thoughts.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

“What?”

“Oh! I mean go out for coffee with me and you can have the record.”

“I can’t just take it for free, Dieter!”

“Of course you can. I’m the owner. It’s my record. Do you not want to go out with me?” His face scrunches up again and fuck. He’s really cute.

“Of course I want to go out with you,” you splutter, shocking yourself.

“It’s settled then. Let’s go!” He turns and walks out the door and you scramble to keep up with him.

“Now? Don’t you have to run the shop?”

“Nah, Chrissy can handle it,” he waves his hand like it’s no big deal and heads for the street. “It’s just right down the road.”

–-

Coffee with Dieter is amazing. He orders a sweet monstrosity, frozen, topped with whipped cream and 3 kinds of syrup. You try to order your favorite drink, but he insists you get the same thing as him.

“Just trust me!” You’ve literally just met the man, but you think you do trust him. There’s just something about him. He learns your name when you give it to the barista and you apologize profusely for being too flustered to properly introduce yourself.

He just laughs and guides you to a pair of armchairs in the corner, kicking off his boots to reveal mismatched socks – one a dark purple tall sock with embroidered grapes on it, the other an ankle sock with a print of Starry Night on it – and settles cross legged into the chair. You tell him you like his socks.

He asks you about what you do for work, where you’re from, what your favorite movies are, an endlessly easy and flowing conversation, peppering in his own answers and arguing with you when you tell him that Judd Apatow movie about making a movie during covid was awful. He asks you what your holy grail album is, the one you’d kill to have in your collection. You don’t even have to think about it.

“The Velvet Underground and Nico, original pressing, with the sticker still on it. I’ll never be able to afford it though. I’ve never even seen one in real life.”

“Do you want to?” He looks at you with a shit eating grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What? Want to see one in real life? I mean… yeah?”

“Let’s go then!” He jumps up, pulling his boots back on and heading for the door. You’re again hustling to keep up with him. You follow him out onto the sidewalk.

“Dieter! Go where?”

“To my house!” You grab his arm and pull him to a stop.

“Why are we going to your house?” You’re exasperated.

“To show you the record. You wanted to see it right?”

“You do not have it. Dieter, there’s no way… One of them just sold for 25k.”

“I do have it. My dad bought it when it came out and now it’s mine.” He takes off walking again, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him.

“Is this some sort of ploy to get me to go home with you? You could have just asked.”

“I know! I mean… fuck. I’m being serious. I have the record upstairs.” He suddenly comes to a stop in front of an apartment building. “If you want, you can wait here and I’ll bring it down. Just promise not to rob me, yeah?” You huff out a frustrated breath.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come in with you.”

His face lights up and he threads his fingers through yours again. It feels nice, holding his hand. He pulls you up the stairs with him and unlocks his door, and you step into his living room. His apartment was clearly supposed to be one of those industrial chic, modern type spaces, but he clearly didn’t care for that style. There are paintings and posters covering every square inch of wall space. “I take it you decorated the shop then?”

“Yep! I do all the murals too.” Fuck, he can paint too? The concrete floor is covered with rugs of all different shapes, sizes, and textures. There’s a blue couch and some clearly thrifted armchairs off to the left. The right side of the room is absolutely dominated by his record collection. There’s a shelf running the length of the room, standing taller than you and absolutely stuffed with records. On the floor around it are milk crates filled with even more records.

“Jesus Christ, Dieter, how many records do you have?” You wander over to a crate and start flipping through, finding that he’s organized them by genre. This one is folk punk you notice as you flip through albums by AJJ, Violent Femmes, The Mountain Goats, and more.

“I genuinely have no idea. I stopped counting back when I was a teenager.” He goes to the shelf, and you decide it must be more organized than it looks because he quickly pulls two albums out and presents them to you. One is the album you asked about in the shop. The other one…

“Holy shit.” You stare up at him from your crouched position. “Holy fucking shit Dieter you actually have it.”

“I fuckin’ told you! Do you wanna listen to it?”

“Do I want to listen to it? Are you actually kidding me? Of course I do!!” He grins at you and walks over to his record player beside the couch. He slides the record out of the sleeve gently and places it on the turntable before dropping the needle. You join him on the couch as the first notes of “Sunday Morning” drift into the room.

“Dieter?” He hums and smiles at you again. “I could kiss you right now. Fuck. Can I kiss you right now?” He looks shocked for a second before taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hard, licking into his mouth. He drags you into his lap, your knees settling on the outsides of his thighs.

You bury your hands in his wild curls and gently tug on them. He groans into your mouth and trails his hands down your body, pulls you even tighter against him. You can feel him getting hard under you, his soft pants doing little to conceal his arousal. You’re not much better off as his lips leave yours and trail down your jaw, your throat, his teeth catching skin as he goes. When “I’m Waiting for the Man,” starts to play, Dieter brings his hands back to your face and pulls you away from him, staring deep into your eyes.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You stare at him, shocked for a moment, and then you laugh so hard you fall sideways off his lap. “You know what, Dieter? Yes. I’d like to have sex with you.”

“Cool,” he breathes out, turning and settling his body over yours. He presses another kiss to your lips and you tug on his shirt. He pulls back long enough to strip it off and you take yours off too. He lays sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your throat and chest, mumbling praises into your skin as he works your jeans and panties down your thighs. You kick them off as he makes his way down to your core. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life. He’s so fucking gorgeous. All golden skin beautifully covered in black ink.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Dieter whispers into the space between your thighs. Your hands fly to his hair as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, immediately closing his lips around it and sucking lightly. Your head falls back and a moan rips from your throat.

He presses a thick finger into you and it’s fucking bliss. He feels so good already. He curls his finger upwards, swirling his tongue in circles around your clit at the same time. Your hands drop to his shoulders as he adds another finger and starts thrusting them into you, curling on every upstroke into your g-spot.

“Fuck! Dieter… feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Shhh baby, I can’t hear the song.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, laughing and on the verge of coming at the same time. He slips his tongue down to join his fingers at your entrance and buries his nose against your clit and you’re gone. The shaking of your body from laughing at him quickly gives over to shuddering as your core tightens around his fingers. You cry out, pure euphoria washing over your whole body.

“That’s it baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight. Look so pretty coming for me.” Dieter talks you through it until the haze of your orgasm fades. “Here or the bed?”

“Here. Get in me. Now.” You grab at his hair, pulling his face back up to yours. You kiss your own slick off his lips hungrily as he clumsily shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring out. He slides it through your folds a few times before notching it at your entrance.

You grab his hips and pull him into you, throwing your head back and arching your hips up into him. “Impatient.” He grumbles it into your neck, but thrusts himself into the hilt, clearly as desperate as you. He barely gives you a chance to adjust before he’s drawing back and thrusting into you again. His breath leaves him in a low growl that has a new gush of slick coating his cock.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him back into you every time he pulls out. His thrusts are shallow from this angle, but he’s slamming into you so hard it doesn’t matter. You slot your lips together, not really kissing, just breathing each other in.

“Dieter, I’m gonna come again,” you can feel your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper into you. He shifts his angle slightly so that his pelvis grinds against your clit every time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, dragging down to his lower back as your whole body tightens and spasms around him.

For a moment, as you catch your breath, you think your hearing must have gone out. Dieter is buried to the hilt inside you, torso pressed flush to yours, but you don’t hear the music anymore. “Want me to flip it to the B side?” Oh. He just fucked you for the entire A side of the track and he’s still not done.

“Yeah sure,” you huff a laugh into his hair. He lifts up, presses a kiss to your lips and pulls out of you with a groan. Your cunt flutters around nothing, missing the feeling of him inside you already. You get a good look at his cock now – thick, uncut, drooling precum and covered in your release. He’s so pretty.

He flips the record to the B side and then pushes his pants down the rest of the way, leaving them in a black puddle on the floor. He grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. “Thought I’d get a look at your B side too,” Dieter says and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I think I hate you,” you mumble into the cushions. He just laughs and settles one knee on the couch, his other foot planted on the floor. He taps your ass cheek lightly.

“Up on your knees, pretty girl.” You shift to comply and he settles his hands on your hips, helping you up and burying his cock in you again in one smooth motion.

“Fuck!” Your arms buckle and you drop to your elbows as he rails you. The new angle is so good it almost hurts. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you into every thrust, punching the breath out of you and turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t tell him what song is playing right now if your life depended on it. All you hear is your own strangled moans and the praises he’s crying out into the air.

“So fucking beautiful. You’re so tight and wet, fuck. I’m gonna come baby. Can I come in your pretty pussy? Please?” You nearly come again at that. The thought of being full of him.

“Yes! Yes! Dieter. Come in me. Need it. Please!” He buries himself inside you and stays there and you can actually feel his cock jump inside you, hot spurts of cum filling you up. He curls himself over your back and you both collapse into the couch.

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him and tucking your back to his chest. He doesn’t pull out of you, just tangles your legs together and wraps his arms around you. You both just lay there in a daze, listening to the rest of the album. When “European Son” fades out and the record starts clicking, Dieter finally slips his softened cock from you. He stands up and puts the record back in its sleeve, filing it back on the shelf.

“If I go to the bathroom, will you still be here when I get back, or are you gonna steal my record and break my heart?”

“Of course I’m gonna steal it,” you smile at him, still stretched out on the couch and not really planning on moving any time soon. He rolls his eyes, laughing at you and disappearing into the hallway.

Maybe combining record collections isn’t completely off the table. If it’s with the right person.

#gins1500sleepover #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dieter bravo x f!reader

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devskindawritingblog · 5 months

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Dating Natalie Scatorccio Christmas HCs (1996)

Disclaimer: I'm still learning how to do this writing thing. Also this might not be truly in character but they are headcanons so 🤷‍♀️.Another thing is I live in Canada, specifically northern Ontario. So I would assume winters here are way colder and different from those in New Jersey.But I will try my best :) And I use canadian spellings ( colour, favourite, etc )

Natalie had a very shitty childhood and teenage life in general

Her family was never a warm, loving environment

So she probably never had a good Christmas experience

For that reason, I don't think she liked Christmas at all

She was always jealous of her classmates showing off their new toys or new clothes

After a while, she stopped trying to enjoy Christmas

She would try to get into the Christmas spirit if you truly wanted to celebrate it with her

Forcing her to wear those cheesy Christmas sweaters with her

You would probably have to bribe her, but eventually she rolls her eyes and agrees

( I was searching up ugly Christmas sweaters, looking for a funny one, but instead I found matching ones. One of them says I don't do matching sweaters, and the other says but I do!)

Just imagine showing up to a holiday party with Nat, wearing those sweaters

She's dragging her feet the whole time, scowling at anyone who brings it up

Van finds it fucking hilarious

That girl is going to be freezing as well

The only thing is that she is very stubborn about it

Wears her leather jacket all year, any season, any weather

Winter is not her favourite season by a long shot

Likes to go on walks throughout the neighborhood

Nice, peaceful walks when the only lights are from the street lights

It's all very calm until she hurls a snowball at you

Hitting you directly in the face

She thinks it’s funny and chuckles to herself until you toss one right back at her

And soon it’ll be a full snowball fight at 9 o'clock at night

It ends when you shove a handful of snow down her shirt and she calls for a truce

You both walk back to your house, soaked and covered in snow

So you both get a change of clothes

Making a snowman with Nat on a Saturday morning

Gathering some rocks and sticks for the eyes, mouth, and arms

And a carrot from your kitchen

Then Nat puts the carrot in a place it shouldn't go

“ what! Its cold outside; maybe he got a snow boner”

She spends a lot of time over at your house for the holidays

Which is actually all of time

You end up buying her more gifts than she “needs”

You just wanted to give her a nice Christmas

And sure, she tries to get you to take them back

When you don't break, she is excited to actually get gifts

Buying her a Nirvana vinyl and seeing her excited face when she opens it up on Christmas morning

She feels bad for not getting you something expensive

But I feel she gets you’re a very sentimental gift

She thinks your going to hate it, but you end up loving it

I have no explanation for this, but I feel she would watch gremlins; don't even ask I have no idea where this came from

#natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #christmas headcannons

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clementine-writes-things · 7 months

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My headcanons for Severus Snape aka my Pookie Bear Schnookums. (A lot of them)

Keep in mind these are just MY personal headcanons. You do not have to agree.

Read below the cut!

SFW:

- prefers fruit candies over chocolate, though he does like dark chocolate every now and then

- maintains a very organized hygiene routine and is the epitome of self-care (He brushes his teeth after every meal, flosses, showers every day, and even uses the occasional moisturizer. Taking care of himself does not make him less of a man.)

- one of his favorite past times is sitting with a book (specifically muggle books) by the fireplace in his personal quarters, especially on rainy days

- sleeps with lots of blankets and wears pajama pants to bed with a t shirt, but then complains how he is always hot at night (He never changes the sleeping pattern however. The warmth is comforting.)

- Has a soft spot for muggle music, sometimes he will go to a muggle record shop and buy some. (he fancies The Smiths, Fleetwood Mac, Nirvana, Radiohead, basically loves all music genres except country, he finds it annoying)

- visits his mother's grave as often as he can and tells her about his day, the good and the bad

- he became a teacher because he genuinely wanted to inform the youth, hoping to educate them for the future. He may be a cold man, but he isn't heartless.

- He doesn't have favorite students, he doesn't agree with that ideology. He may have 'least favorite students' but he would never choose a 'most favorite'. He does not like how Professor Slughorn has the 'Slug Club'.

- He actually deeply cared about Harry Potter, but was afraid to step into his life as he was scared something would happen to him like his parents, leaving Harry alone again.

- When he finds out a student has a learning disability or a personal issue, he will look into said issue and figure out how to help to the best of his ability.

- He cuts his own hair sometimes, but usually McGonagall will tidy it up.

- He hates bananas. There is no explanation, he just doesn't like them.

- If he sees a student being bullied, he intervenes instantly. He doesn't want to see another kid go through what he did.

- He is very close with McGonagall, but also, Hagrid. Sometimes he will go down to his hut and ask for some help gathering ingredients for potions (like venom, blood, essence, etc.),then he will make small talk and ask if there are any animals Hagrid is currently nurturing. Sometimes it will peak his interest.

- His favorite colors are purple and green, he likes how they look together.

- He ISN'T transphobic/homophobic. He is actually very accepting. He doesn't care about sexuality or identity, he just cares about who you are morally as a person.

- He smells like pine, eucalyptus, and spearmint constantly but, in the fall he smells of warm apple cider with a hint of clove.

- He brushes his hair a lot

- He has muggle clothing, but he never wears them on/near school grounds, god forbid a student sees him in casual wear.

- Sometimes he has a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. He will sit on his bed and practice breathing, calming his mind. He will make a mental list of things to do to 'get ready for the day'. Once the list is done, he feels a lot better.

- As previously hinted, he loves apple cider. He's practically obsessed with it. He only drinks it in the fall though. He thinks it makes it taste better. And he uses mulling spices with fresh apple juice, not fake stuff.

- During the holidays, he will always get a gift for every one of his staff members. If he overhears of a student going through a particularly bad time with their family or something of the like, he will get them one too. Not a huge gift, but something nice, like a box of sweets.

- He usually doesn't get many gifts during the holidays, only the occasional pair of mittens or new potion set. People think he isn't a materialistic person, which he isn't, but he wishes people would at least give a card. He never got presents growing up.

- He always has room for dessert after a meal

- His monotone voice is not from lack of interest, it's just his natural tone of voice. He hates it too, as it's one of the reasons he was bullied growing up.

- He doesn't smile much because he isn't sure when you should smile. He doesn't know when it's appropriate. So, instead, he'll give a little smirk or a chuckle. He's insecure of his smile as well.

- If he has a song stuck in his head, he'll tap his feet underneath his desk and hum along. He's very discreet about it though.

- One of his secret talents is playing guitars, he doesn't do it often, but he's actually good at it.

- He doesn't raise his voice much even when he's angry, because it reminds him of his father. He doesn't like yelling.

- His favorite flower is NOT A LILY! He actually really likes daisies and dandelions. People consider them to be "weeds" as they can take over people's lawns, but growing up he had a garden that his mother used to tend to. However, she let the grass and flowers around it turn into overgrowth. She took Severus out there one day to harvest some carrots, and he asked "Mom, why do you let all of the grass and weeds grow every where?" And she replied "Dear boy, there is no such thing as weeds. They are simply wild flowers that grow in unwanted places. All they want is to grow and to live. Just like us."

- He keeps/maintains a garden at his house in honor of his mother, and he let's the wildflowers take over.

- He has a guest bedroom, but no one ever visits him.

NSFW:

- He is definitely a top/dom, but he CAN be a sub. However, he doesn't find it as fun.

- He does not have that high of a sex drive. He doesn't NEED to have sex. If he fell in love with someone who didn't want to have sex that often, or even at all, he would be perfectly fine with that. Because sex doesn't define a real relationship. Love does.

- He has never and will never partake in looking at pornographic material. He finds it extremely uncomfortable and disgusting, especially how much of it is violence towards women. Also, he believes sexual relations like that should be private and intimate.

- He is very vocal in bed, as he wants his partner to know he is enjoying it as well.

- Always makes a safe word before anything sexual.

- He always gives aftercare no matter what.

- He is extremely kinky, let's just say that.

- Loves roleplay

- He is very big on foreplay because he doesn't want his partner to not be pleasured correctly or feel 'unready'. He always wants his partner to be comfortable and happy.

- He loves being called sir/professor and SOMETIMES daddy. Though, he prefers the first two most of all.

#severus snape #harry potter #severus snape x reader #headcanon #professor snape #pro snape #snape #snape fandom #fanfic #writers of tumblr #fanfic writing #Spotify

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brightside-of-the-upsidedown · 9 months

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I'm not sure how I'll continue it yet, but this is the infamous pastel grunge punk!Steve I ended up writing instead of tentacles, so enjoy XD

Sparked by this beautiful post

By @discodeviant because while I was reading, Beggar's Song by Matt Maeson started playing in my head.

Steve looked into the backroom bathroom's cracked mirror and fixed his hair for the seventh time in the last thirty minutes. It was practically a ritual at this point when he was nervous. Well, maybe it'd become his lucky thing after tonight.

He brushed the hair away from his face and clicked his tongue ring pensively. From one side, his new haircut still had his usual thick brown voluminous waves with highlights that nearly brushed his shoulder. From the other side, he'd had it trimmed down into a disconnected undercut and dyed baby pink. He'd originally been planning on dying all of his hair pink and getting both sides shaved, but had chickened out. He'd still been thrilled by the outcome though.

Or at least he had loved it just this morning. But would everyone else? Had he made a mistake and fucked up one of the only good things about him-

A fist banged on the door and Robin's voice came through the door. "Come on, dingus, you're already pretty. Stop spiraling and let's go!"

Steve smiled and let her in. "Aw, Buckley, I'm pretty? Even pretty enough for you?"

Robin snorted and wrinkled her nose. "Don't push it. Now get your ass up on stage before it escapes those pants and makes a run for it. You're never going to throw those out, are you?"

Steve looked down at his worn thin jeans and yeah, maybe they were a bit tighter than usual in the ass, but their new apartment had a lot of stairs, okay! Despite it being almost more holes than pants, they were comfortable and definitely something his parents would never have let him wear when he'd still been under his dad's thumb. So of course that made them his favorite.

He turned and washed his hands once more. Robin let out a choking noise and pointed at his ass. "That's a new hole."

For a split second, Steve thought she was talking about something else until she poked at a spot on his ass not covered by the pants. There was a new hole in his jeans that showed off a not small peek of his ass and thigh. But it was low enough that Steve wasn't too worried about it.

"Buy a guy dinner first, jeez." Steve teased her.

She just slapped his ass. "Yeah, sure, I know a great little place on Easy Street called Cafe Puttana."

"Did you just call me a whore in my own mother tongue, Buckley?!" Steve gasped dramatically. "And maybe if you dressed like this more often, you'd stop having to resort to handing out free drinks to get a girl's attention." Steve hip checked her as she giggled at him and opened the door. "Now let's get this show on the road before everyone notices their favorite bartenders are both missing. My public awaits." He adjusted his pink jean vest over his Nirvana t-shirt as he stepped out, still picking, still-

"Your 'public' is a bunch of drunks, punks, burnouts, and half dead partiers." Robin hugged him from behind just before they got to the stage in the bar. "So don't let the nerves get you. Just have fun and sing me a song, piano man."

That got a genuine laugh out of him. "I'm no Billy Joel, but I'll see what I can do, uptown girl."

Robin went up on stage to announce him. She hyped him up as best she could given her audience and got a not too bad round of applause. Steve wasn't expecting much, this was a gig he'd just gotten only because he worked at the bar and the band that had been scheduled to play had canceled. He usually worked as their bartender and he was good at it. He probably wouldn't have gotten either job if Robin hadn't stepped up to bat for him.

Steve practiced his breathing exercises as the players they could find on such short notice got ready. He stepped up on stage, gave a friendly wave to the regulars who recognized and cheered for him.

He took a seat at the piano he'd had to tune himself before the show because it got so little use.

"Hey, you bunch of vagrants and drains on society." His words were met with proud hoots and hollers. "It's me, Steve, your favorite bartender." This was met with a loud boo from the bar, Robin playfully heckling him.

"That bunch of assholes the boss hired canceled, yeah, I know. So you get me instead, aren't you lucky? Usually you have to buy a drink to get to listen to my dulcet tones." Steve grinned as the crowd booed, whistled, and catcalled. "So enjoy the music, I wrote it myself. Yeah, that's right, fuck you, I have layers. Or if you don't like it, just shut the fuck up and enjoy the view you bunch of pervs." More catcalls.

Steve signaled the players and waited a moment, waiting for his cue, as they played the intro. They weren't bad for only two days of practice.

Jesus, come talk to me

I am but a blind mess, I am wild and free

I know that I need us more than I need me

One more whiskey, I am wild and free

Steve started playing as he continued singing.

Oh, but I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

Oh yeah, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

Steve didn't hear any hecklers, not that he thought anyone was that willing to get on Robin's Shit List, but he still didn't dare look up.

Oh, my mother Mary, come walk with me

I am on four drugs, I am wild and free

I know that I failed less, the less I knew me

Wander through the darkness, and come walk with me

Steve felt good about the beat and the band seemed to be really getting into it.

Oh 'cause I'm a beat down washed up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'll be damned if I let it keep me down

Ay, yeah

Yeah I'm a beat down washed up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'll be damned if I let it keep me down

Yeah, yeah

He timed his breathing as the band trailed into the chorus.

Oh yeah, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah, yeah

Steve nodded and belted the post chorus.

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

We sing a beat-down, washed-up beggar's song

And we sing it even louder when the money is gone

Because we'll be damned if we let it keep us down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah, yeah

Steve blinked his eyes open when he felt a bit of an echo- no, there were people singing along. He recognized Robin's off key voice and smiled. Steve sang out the lyrics with his whole chest.

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

He could hear a lot more voices raise with his as he sang the last chorus as the band tapered off. "Come on, beggers!"

We sing a beat-down, washed-up beggar's song

And we sing it even louder when the money is gone

Because we'll be damned if we let it keep us down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

For an embarrassing moment, Steve thought he might fucking cry at the roars from the bar. Yeah, it was a few dozen regulars, drunkards, and partiers blitzed out of their minds, but it was leagues above his self doubt's worst case scenario. He had to swallow hard more than once before he felt confident enough to talk into the mic again.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it, you assholes?" Steve knew he was probably smiling like an idiot, but it was hard to care. "Give a hand to the band, they had like two days to fucking practice my crap, holy shit."

The bar clapped and yelled for them. The band looked pleased with the positive attention and a few waved back. One flipped off the audience much to their delight.

"Now, the rest of the songs are covers, the good shit, I promise." Steve announced. "So spend your fucking money, don't forget to tip, and enjoy."

They ended up playing some Nirvana, a little The Clash of course, Dead Kennedys, Siouxsie and the Banshees, through in a Motley Crüe song, and topped it off with his beloved Queen.

To Steve's honest surprise and giddiness, there was a demand for an encore of Beggar's Song. He led them through it one more time before ending for the night. Closing time was in less than an hour and he wanted to help Robin out with last call.

They got a decent amount of tips that he let the band take the lion's share of, but still got a sweet fifteen bucks on top of the thirty his boss had already paid him. He'd be able to buy some pretty good food for him and Robin this month.

That's all I got for now!

The backstory is Robin and Steve moved together somewhere after Robin got kicked out for coming out to her parents.

Maybe she stayed with Steve until her parents told his parents and they called to tell him to send her home, whatever. Robin and Steve decided to strip whatever they could from the house, sell it, sneak into her room while her parents were gone to pack, and they rode off into the sunset.

Now they have a shitty apartment, jobs at a shitty bar, and they've never been happier. ❤

I have plans to bring Billy and Eddie into it later.

Two Nights Ago

Robin: I volunteered you for a gig

Steve: I've only sang in front of you!

Robin: it's time to fly, I'm kicking you out of the nest, dingus

Steve: does this make you my mama bird?

-Robin throws a pillow at him-

Steve: how could you do this to your child!

#harle hums #they're little shits and i love them #robin buckley #steve harrington #punk steve harrington #punk steve au #future harringroveson #future metalsandwich

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douceurrrr · 1 year

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𖤐༺✦༻ goth!young!pedro, gosh you two were a odd looking couple! I mean it was weird seeing him and his goth demeanor next to your warm and bubbly one but opposites do attract I guess. you’ve never thought you and him would even end up together in the slightest but some how it happened, in fact you two have a lot in common. you both like some of the same music which was a A plus for you because you enjoy listening to all his favorite bands like Metallica or Korn.

goth!pedro gets insecure sometimes because he knows you’re way out of his league and everyone seems to be reminding him but you always reassure him that he’s the only one for you and that he shouldn’t worry and then give him a little peck on he’s face which makes him feel all warm inside but he’ll never admit that.

goth!pedro secretly loves cuddling but as always he’ll never admit to it. one day, he snuck through your window because he wanted to see you but your knew he wanted something far more deeper than that so when you saw him just standing in the middle of your room like a weirdo you asked, “you want cuddles, don’t you?” he had no choice but to nod followed by a huff before you opened your welcoming arms, “come here you big baby.” he gladly crawled on your bed and leaned in your arms that night.

goth!pedro plays guitar from time to time, you like to watch he’s fingers move on the strings or watch he’s facial expressions change when he makes a wrong note, speaking of his face. you think his the most handsome guy in town which is saying a lot. sometimes you compare his facial structures to a greek god and whenever you give him compliments he says something along the lines of, “thanks princess.” or “you’re not too bad yourself.” with a hint of blush on his pale cheeks.

goth!pedro’s love language is gifting, he tries to give things that symbolizes his love because he doesn’t really know how to say it so he finds a substitute. one day, he gives you a necklace with the letter P on it and you smiled so widely that your cheeks started to hurt, he noticed you weren’t speaking so he got worried, “it’s stupid I know.” he says lowly which made you instantly respond, “no! pedro it’s not stupid, I actually really like- no love it.” you beamed up at him and kissed him on the cheek which made him say something like, “you missed.” you rolled you eyes and kissed him on the lips. he was the happiest he’s ever been that day.

goth!pedro knows your parents don’t approve of him but he likes the danger of it all, from sneaking him in your room to hiding underneath your bed sometimes, he thinks the adrenaline is daring and fun.

what can you say? you love your gothic boyfriend.

༺✦༻

“babe you shouldn’t wear your rings while we’re kissing.” you say, disconnecting the kiss from his swollen lips from kissing all day, you two we’re on your bed with you straddling his lap with the band Metallica blasting in the background . he pouts a little, “why? I thought you loved my rings, princess.” pedro replied putting his hands on your thighs which made you hiss from the cold metal on you skin. “because they get really cold and you touch my thighs a lot while kissing.” you explained. “oh I see but why does your breath change when I do though? seems like someone isn’t telling the full truth.” he smirked and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

“whatever.” you scoffed, knowing deep down inside that he was right. for the next couple of moments you take I’m his appearance.

he’s jet black hair was kind of ruffled on his head which was your doing because you love to run your fingers through his hair whilst kissing. his lip were slightly red from kissing too hard and he was wearing a black Nirvana shirt along with his earrings he always wore, god he’s so hot!

“just admit it y/l/n.” he says while leaning back on your bed on his forearms. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “admit what?” you questioned. “admit that you secretly love my rings all over you.” pedro replied as he placed his hands on your thighs again, leaving a shiver up your spine. “okay you caught me, moron.” you said, playfully.

“that’s what I thought.” pedro says, pulling down into another kiss.

#pedro pascal #goth!pedro #black!reader #x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x black!reader #goth!pedro x reader #goth!pedro x black!reader #gothic boyfriend #woc #fanfic

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sunflowergirl522 · 2 years

Text

Fangirl 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin has an album release party.

Word Count: 3061

A/N: Listen I know Dave Grohl wasn’t the og drummer for Nirvana but I love him so he is in this fic okay? Okay.

Part One

Eddie Masterlist

It’s been three months since you and Eddie met and since then the two of you have gotten extremely close. He takes you to every show they have and you sit in for most practices.The rest of the guys were completely psyched to meet you, especially when you knew all of their names from being a fan, normally the fans they meet only remember Eddie's. You spend a lot of your free time together too even if that’s you reading and Eddie playing his guitar to learn a new song or create a new one. When he graduated last month you were the loudest person in the auditorium causing a scene for him because everyone needs to know how proud of him you are, Wayne really appreciated that.

Dustin has become such a nuisance since finding out how much time you spend together. He refuses to leave either one of you alone about when you’re going to get together, making teasing remarks when you’re all together hanging out and straight up asking you about it when it’s just you and him. You know he’s doing the same thing to Eddie, you laugh about it together in private, the two of you secretly wishing his teasing would come true. Because even though that first day the two of you met he said taking you to the concert the next day was a date, neither of you had actually acted like it was.

And since you gave Eddie the suggestion to put posters up around colleges for Corroded Coffin shows and have them places that minors could go, the band has gained a decent amount of traction. They have a bunch of fans now and after being asked by multiple people they started selling merch again. Eddie always makes sure that you get first dibs on each new piece they come out with since you’re his biggest fan. They’ve even gotten signed by a small record label and have an album coming out tomorrow.

You stand from your crouched position in front of your movies as a knock sounds on your door. You’re shocked when you see Nancy and Robin on the other side. The only person you were expecting today was Eddie.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re picking your clothes for the release party tomorrow because your fashion sense is shit.” Robin brushes past you leading the way to your room while Nancy speaks. They had decided that they had enough of the two of you dancing around your feelings for the other and that they’d finally get a plan together. Step one was to make sure you looked hot at the release party of Corroded Coffins album.

“What? My fashion sense isn’t that bad.” Nancy and Robin look at you clad in sweatpants and a shirt that you obviously stole from Eddie before sharing a look with each other.

“Okay fine so it’s not shit, that may have been too harsh Nance.” Robin quickly says to appease you and sends Nancy a look to tell her to play along. She then moves to your closet while you sit on the edge of your bed. “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow Y/n/n?”

“Just a pair of jeans and my Kiss shirt. And probably a jacket.” You nod your head towards the clothes you left sitting out on the desk.

“Is it your cropped Kiss shirt at least?” Nancy starts rummaging through your dresser drawers, you just nod. “That’s something at least. Where are all of your skirts?”

“They’re all in here it seems.” Robin leans back from your closet to look at Nancy who moves to stand next to her.

“Are you guys gonna be here long? Eddie should be on his way soon. I guess you guys could stay for movie night too though if you wanted.”

“Eddie’s coming over?”

“Well yeah, it’s movie night.” It comes out like everyone should know that by now when really how would they if it’s always just you and Eddie.

“Right, how could we forget?” Robin nudges Nancy and you catch the look she sends her making you suspect that they might be up to something.

“What are you two scheming?”

“Nothing, we’ll be back before the party tomorrow to get you ready.” You follow them out of your room just as the front door opens.

“Pizza has arrived Sweetheart! Oh, hey guys what are you doing here? You staying for movie night because I’m not sure there’s enough pizza for four of us.”

“We were just leaving Eds. See you tomorrow Y/n!” They both rush out talking to each other leaving you and Eddie alone in your home while they head next door to talk to Dustin about step two.

“What was that about?” His face scrunches up in confusion for why his friends left in such a hurry.

“Something about dressing me for the party tomorrow. I think they’re plotting something.” You shrug, taking the box from him and heading into the living room. “Do you wanna pick the movies while I make some popcorn?”

“No!” Eddie’s quick to answer knowing the catastrophe that will ensue if you make popcorn. “Last time you made popcorn you burnt it so bad the kitchen smelled like it for a week. I’ll make it, you grab some movies. I’ll watch whatever you want.”

“Even if I pick Grease again?”

“Especially if you pick Grease again!” He yells from your kitchen causing you to laugh. The first time you picked it he had complained without having seen it before. But now on a rare occasion he’d pick it.

The two of you start the night with The Thing and The Goonies quoting the films as you eat and try to toss popcorn into each other's mouths. Once the pizza is gone and Eddie makes another bag of popcorn you finally put Grease in. And there in the middle of the night in your living room the two of you jump around singing along to it and acting out parts of the movie together.

Halfway through Clue, which you put on next, you fall asleep head resting on Eddie’s shoulder and he’s quick to follow you.

Robin and Nancy find the two of you curled up on the couch together the next morning the tv screen blue from the movie ending.

“Are you sure they’re not already together and just messing with us?”

“I’m sure. They would definitely be all over each other on a normal basis if they were together.”

“Gross Nance.”

“What? It’s true. Now which one of us is gonna wake them up?” Robin sighs already knowing it’s gonna be her.

“Alright love birds! Rise and shine!” She stomps over to the couch and rips the blanket off of the two of you as loud as she can. The last thing she wants is to end up shoving you off the couch again.

“Robin? What are you doing here?” Your voice is full of sleep and you rub at your eyes to help wake yourself up. Eddie’s arms around you tighten before loosening so he can sit up.

“What time is it?”

“It’s like close to nine, maybe eight forty. Don’t you have things you have to do with the band?”

“Shit, yeah I do.” He climbs off the couch careful not to disturb you too much and crouches in front of you smiling to himself at how you’re already trying to go back to sleep. “I’ll be back later to pick you up Sweetheart.”

“Mm, see you then Eds.” He runs a hand through your hair, kisses the top of your head, and stands to go nodding to Robin and Nancy as he heads out.

“Thanks for the wake up call girls.”

“Y/n, come on you gotta get up. We have to find your outfit for tonight.”

“Okay you guys do that, I’ll sleep.” Robin and Nancy look at each other before grabbing your arms and pulling you up. “Come on guys it’s early can’t you just give me one more hour. If you don’t let me sleep I’ll be exhausted tonight.”

“Nope, we brought coffee. You can drink it once we’re in your room.” You groan at Nancy’s words but accept the fact that you won’t be sleeping anymore.

“Why are you guys here so early anyway? The party isn’t until seven.”

“Yeah well you need to drink this,” Robin hands you a cup of hot coffee as you sit on your bed, “and we need to meticulously pick out your clothes.”

“Right and then you need to shower and get dressed.”

“Then I’ll go get us some food or something. And after we eat Nance will do your hair and makeup.”

“I don’t see how that will take ten hours or why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. But fine go at it, find my clothes for tonight I’ll sit here with my coffee.”

By the time you’re done drinking it it’s been an hour and a half and they’re still arguing over what you should wear. There’s clothes on your floor in two piles, a maybe and a definitely not pile. Your two friends can’t seem to agree on anything for the life of them and you decide that you could probably sneak in a twenty minute nap. Just as your eyes close and you start to doze off Robin hits your foot to get your attention.

“What do you think Y/n, which outfit do you wanna wear?” Nancy and Robin are both holding up different clothing. Nancy a short black dress you had forgotten existed and Robin one of your tighter skirts and a blank tank top. “You’d wear a jean jacket with either fit.”

You sigh and get up walking over to them. You grab your Kiss shirt you originally planned on wearing on the way over. Their faces drop as you walk past them to the closet where they still haven’t pulled out your favorite jean skirt.

“Here, does this work for you guys? The Kiss shirt is non negotiable, Eddie and I are supposed to be matching.”

“Maybe we were too quick to judge your fashion sense. Now go shower while we pick your shoes out.” Nancy shoves you out of the room before you can argue otherwise.

Admittedly you start to doze off after the warm water starts to steam up your bathroom. It’s possible you took a five minute standing power nap. You had only gotten maybe five hours of sleep before they came over. You’d feel bad for Eddie for having to actually do stuff today but he’s used to not sleeping much. The only times he really does sleep is when he stays over your place or vice versa.

By the time you’re dressed and you’ve all eaten the takeout Robin went out to get it’s almost one. You’re definitely more awake than before thanks to the coffee Nancy keeps pumping into your system. You’re still arguing about how you don’t need them to do your hair or makeup though.

“Definitely sexy disheveled, I’ve been rocking out all day, hair.” Nancy hums in response to Robin as they discuss while you’re stuck in your desk chair.

“You want messy hair? You could’ve had me nap for like thirty minutes and then just run your fingers through it to fix it up a bit.”

“Nope, now stay still so I can do this.” Nancy teases and pulls at your hair for the next twenty minutes while Robin keeps you entertained by telling you about how Steve got gum stuck in his hair and when she offered to cut it out he threw a fit.

“Can we skip the make up? I’ve had enough of feeling like a doll for the two of you to play with today.” You hated when your mom did this to you growing up and you hate that your friends have been doing it all day. “Besides, don't you guys have to go get ready or help Steve with his hair or something?”

“She has a point Nance, I did tell Steve I’d help him once I was ready.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll see you later Y/n.”

“Yeah, bye guys thanks for your help.” You wave to them before shutting your front door. You lean your back against it and slide down sighing. Today has been such a long day already.

Dustin comes over a little after six since Eddie’s picking him up too. He finds you laying on the couch with a book when he walks through the door.

“Hey Dusty, how’s your day been?”

“Good, what about yours?” He sits next to you after you straighten up.

“It was alright.” You shrug. “Nancy and Robin were over playing dress up like all day.” Dustin cringes a little bit at your words, he told them not to do that part of the plan and that you’d hate it.

“Oh? Where are they now?”

“Probably getting ready, I kicked them out a few hours ago. How’d you sleep last night?”

“Good, I stayed up playing video games but then I slept in this morning. Why?”

“You’re in charge of keeping me awake tonight. Eddie and I were up really late last night and then they showed up so goddamn early, I barely got any sleep.” You’ve never been so jealous of your friend before.

“Why didn’t you nap after sending them home?”

“Nancy pumped me full of coffee but I’m sure I’ll crash halfway through the party.”

“Alright, you can count on me.” Dustin knows almost better than anyone how you need sleep to be able to function. He only had to be the one to wake you up for school till you graduated.

“You wanna play a game or something?”

When Eddie enters your house he’s met with yours and Dustin's laughter and his smile gets bigger.

“Dustin come on, you want a snack you gotta come get it.”

“I can’t get over there! Just toss me something.” Eddie pauses in the doorway of your dining room where Dustin’s standing on a chair in the corner and he can see your head peeking around the doorway to the kitchen. You gasp when you see him.

“Looks like a lava monster has appeared Dusty.” He knows you’re playing the floor is lava immediately. It’s something you and Dustin have played since you were kids and even though you’re older now Eddie still walks in on the two of you playing it a lot.

He starts to make gurgled groaning noises to play along and slowly starts to make his way to where you are. You let out a small scream when you see him coming closer to you and start moving on the kitchen counters to get to the other doorway.

“Too slow.” Eddie's deep grumbled voice greets your ears right before he grabs you and pulls you off of the counter.

“You moved too fast!” You laugh leaving your arms around his neck while resting your forehead against his chest.

“Are you guys ready to head out?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

During the beginning of the party you stay hanging around the boys and your friends but after having a couple drinks you’re quick to become friendly with one of the other bands that the record label invited. You had gone off to get another drink when you started getting close to their drummer. You stay by the bar and chat with him while Eddie stands against the wall with his arms crossed in his group pouting.

“You good man?” Steve asks as he notices the annoyed look on his friend's face as he stares at the two of you.

“They don’t even have that good of music.” He’s met the members of Nirvana a few times as Corroded Coffin went into the studio to make the album. They were still writing their first album.

“Initiate phase two.” Robin nudges Dustin as she overhears Eddie being jealous. He rolls his eyes but makes his way over to his friend regardless.

“They seem to be getting pretty close, I wonder if he’ll be her new boyfriend.” Eddie chokes on his drink at Dustin’s words.

“Boyfriend? No way, uh uh. She told me drummers aren’t her thing. No offense Gareth.”

“None taken man, she’s your girl.” His own drummer shrugs and goes back to talking to a fan.

“Hate to break it to you Eddie but I think anyone who can play an instrument is her type.”

“It doesn’t matter she’s my girl.” His friend's words had filled him with confidence because yeah you are his girl. He’s not about to let some nobody take that away from him.

“Does she know that?” Eddie gulps and watches as you laugh at something he said.

“I’ll be back Dustin.”

“Oh hey Eddie.” You greet your best friend as he stops beside you swinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Hey Sweetheart.”

“This is Dave, he’s in a band.”

“We’ve met darlin’.” He squeezes you against him doing what he can to show the man in front of him that you’re his.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Good, you care if I steal her away for a bit?”

“Go for it.” Eddie nods at him in thanks and pulls you towards a secluded part of the venue.

“What is it Eds?”

“Thought you didn’t like drummers Sweetheart?” He would’ve just asked you out if it weren’t for his nerves acting up. You understood what this was though from how possessive he just seemed to be.

“I do but I’m more into guitarists and lead singers with curly hairy and pretty brown eyes.” You smile up at him while stepping closer to him, holding onto his jacket.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm, in fact there’s a specific one I have my eye on. I think he’s gonna make it big.”

“You think so?” He leans his head down closer to you while his hands go to your waist to pull you closer.

“I know so.”

“Well I think if he makes it big he’ll be taking his number one fan with him.”

“He better.” And with that you reach up for his face to connect your lips.

“Mission successful.” Nancy and Robin high five as they watch the two of you come together.

Eddie Taglist:@sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @munsonswhore86 @katsukis1wife @violet-19999 @navs-bhat @emotionaldreamer @thatsamegirl @fromasgardandback @rockchickrebel @yourdailymemedelivery @magicalchocolatecheesecake @watercolorskyy @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @brattypeony @fangirling-4-ever @angelina0191 @gaysludge @audhd-dragonaut @eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @tvserie-s-world @reddisteddie @redgetawaycar @eddies-lover @alexis6699

Everything Taglist: @munsonsmuse @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie x reader

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