#Jeff plays that shit like it’s a fucking DJ turn table

[creepy-bi-day]

AMAB Creeps/Slenderverse that can find (and correctly stimulate) the clit and g-spot:

Cody

Toby

Jackson (my OC)

EJ

Helen

Slender

BRIAN

Tim

HABIT

Creeps/slenderverse characters that can find but do not know how to stimulate it:

Jeff

[gerrystamour]

just one more drink, please come inside [one shot]

Explicit★Steddie★1400 Words★Complete

[ PREVIOUS FIC ]

Summary: ‘Man, this DJ really does suck,’ Eddie thought with no small amount of amusement as another poorly timed mix was allowed to play. In the poor guy’s defense, he was a little distracted Part of my series of unrelated pwp fics after I got sad that a bunch of thot job options for Steve lost to bartender in a Tumblr poll. CW: Public sex, Oral sex, Undernegotiated kink, Deepthroating, Throat pie, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington’s good boy

[ READ ON AO3 ]

‘Man, this DJ really does suck,’ Eddie thought with no small amount of amusement as another poorly timed mix was allowed to play. In the poor guy’s defense, he was a little distracted. 

With that thought, Eddie pulled back to catch his breath around the thick cock in his mouth, sucking and lapping at the head hungrily. Working the head was his favourite part of any blowjob, especially with particularly handsy partners like Steve apparently was. The hand twisting roughly in his hair was almost enough to make up for Eddie not being able to hear him. 

The club was understandably loud, and Steve’s set-up was up a set of stairs so they were well out of sight. Honestly, if there wasn’t someone always up there, Eddie would consider it a great place for hook-ups. It was private and plenty intimate given the cramped space. It was a revelation because he never gave it much thought before. This domain was that of his best friends, Jeff and Gareth, so Eddie never dreamed of invading it. 

But when Eddie looked up at the DJ booth to see who exactly was doing such a piss-poor job (since it obviously wasn’t either of his friends), he nearly choked on his own spit. The man upstairs spinning discs was absolutely gorgeous, and Eddie needed to know him immediately in the Biblical sense. 

“Pretty sure none of the stuff that just came out of your mouth is in the Bible, Eddie,” Chrissy said blandly, but Eddie was already walking away and toward the stairs. 

Eddie wasn’t even sure how he made it to the top because it felt like he just blinked and then he was standing in the booth next to the man. The gorgeous God in human flesh glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, his expression so beautifully bitchy that Eddie was ready to bend right over the turntable and offer up his hole. 

“Hi,” Eddie said with a big grin, carefully placing his hand on the table and leaning heavily, tipping closer to the DJ until he leaned away a bit. “I’m Eddie.” 

For a long moment, the DJ looked like he was going to ignore Eddie completely before he replied, “Steve.”

“Oh, that’s an easy name to remember. Steve,” Eddie said, as if testing the name on his tongue. Humming, Eddie tested it a few more times, his voice pitching up, going breathier on each repeat until he was outright moaning it. 

“Can I help you?” Steve asked, and God, that bitchy expression was back and going straight to Eddie’s dick. 

“Got a request for ya, big boy,” Eddie replied, his voice practically a purr as he leaned in even closer. 

Somehow, Steve’s expression turned even bitchier, as if that would make Eddie any less ready to jump his fucking bones. Then he wordlessly pointed at the sign just over Eddie’s shoulder:

‘NO REQUESTS’

“Oh, no, it wasn’t going to be one of those requests. How silly of me not to specify,” Eddie said, jokingly popping himself on the forehead with the heel of his palm.

“Listen, man, I’m just a bouncer, but the DJ for tonight called in sick and I’m the only one on who knows anything about this shit. So, can you finish whatever game you’re playing?” Steve said with a huge exasperated sigh, and Eddie sort of felt bad for messing with him.

Only sort of.

Grinning, Eddie leaned in really close and murmured against Steve’s ear, “BJ for the DJ?”

Steve was caught so off-guard by the request that he snorted and blinked down at the turntable before looking back at Eddie’s shit-eating grin. “That your best line?”

“Is it working?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly at Steve. 

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Steve smiled almost grudgingly as he looked at the buttons again. “I’m off in an hour,” he finally replied, and Eddie giggled.

“No need to wait, big boy,” he crooned and before Steve could say anything, Eddie sidled between him and the turntable and slid to his knees underneath it.

‘Fuck, ‘big boy’ indeed,’ Eddie thought, moaning as he bobbed his head on Steve’s thick cock, his hole twitching at the thought of having that girth inside him. Sucking sloppily, Eddie reached up to fondle Steve’s heavy balls, rolling them gently in his hand and squeezing them just to see how he liked that. From the burst of salty precum on his tongue and the hand twisting viciously in his hair, Eddie figured he really liked that.

With a low sound, Eddie reached further back, just to press a fingertip against Steve’s taint, and the reaction was glorious. Yes, Steve’s hips jerked forward and gagged Eddie. Yes, the ensuing noise Eddie made around Steve’s cock and the amount of spit that dribbled from his mouth in thick strands were gross.

But, Jesus H Christ, did Eddie live for that rough treatment.

With a gurgling, desperate moan, Eddie curled his fingers into the belt loops on Steve’s pants and pulled him forward, hoping he got the hint. The beautiful, gorgeous, perfect man above him was quick to react, shifting the hand in his hair to the back of his head before driving his dick deep into Eddie’s mouth.

It got even messier from there, with Eddie gagging when he mistimed a swallow and spit and tears wetting his face, and Christ Steve was a vision above him. Eddie gazed up at him adoringly, watching the muscle in his jaw tense with every thrust, his eyes still resolutely on the turntable in front of him. The music was barely even audible to Eddie at this point, the only noises his ears were able to pick up being the sucking, wet slide of a cock inside his mouth and his own wanton sounds.

Then Steve tapped on Eddie’s head, a warning, and when Eddie just pressed closer the man dragged him forward until his nose was buried in the coarse cloud of hair around the base. Taking a slow breath in through his nose, Eddie closed his eyes and hummed, shivering happily as Steve spilled straight down his throat. 

Eddie was painfully hard in his pants, and he wanted Steve’s hands on him so fucking badly, but when Eddie tried to pull him to the floor, the brute slapped his hands away. Whining around the softening cock in his mouth, Eddie looked pleadingly up at Steve through his tear-soaked lashes.

Steve swallowed thickly as he finally looked down at him. “I’m still on the clock,” he said, loud enough for Eddie to hear as he shifted his hips back, slipping out of Eddie’s mouth.

“I’m so fucking hard,” Eddie complained, and Steve pouted condescendingly down at him.

“Should’ve thought about that before you sucked my dick while I was at work,” Steve teased, and Eddie whined.

“How was I supposed to know you took your job so seriously?” he asked pitifully, and Steve just stuck his lip out further, mocking him. That wasn’t helping Eddie’s boner one bit.

With a put-upon sigh, Steve shifted his weight and slid a booted foot between Eddie’s legs. “If you can’t wait ‘till the end of my shift and you absolutely need me to get you off, there,” he said pointedly as he reached down and put his cock away before getting back to work on the turntable.

Eddie stared up at Steve, shocked, then down at the boot between his legs. The choice was agonizing—rub one out now on the floor under a turntable, or wait until Steve’s shift was over and then let the man take care of him properly. His dick begged for the former, and Eddie couldn’t help the way he rocked down against Steve’s foot.

But then he stopped himself, dropping his head against Steve’s hip with a whine as he lifted himself up onto his knees. “You’re so fucking mean,” he groused, and he shivered at the laugh that pulled from Steve. One of his big hands was petting his hair, as if trying to soothe him.

“Yeah, but I can tell you like ‘em mean, don’t you?” Steve asked, and this time when Eddie looked up, that bitchy expression was back and—oh, fuck, this guy had Eddie’s number the second he walked in there.

Shivering, Eddie dropped his forehead back against Steve’s hip and grinned down at the floor, settling in to wait until Steve’s shift ended.

[ READ ON AO3 ]

Taglist! (from memory because my laptop is dead and with it my note with my taglist) @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle @inairbinad @stobinesque @xenon-demon @hellion-child @spectrum-spectre @sidekick-hero @yournowheregirl @thefreakandthehair @estrellami-1 @mylilplanet @theheadlessphilosopher @spicysix @steddieas-shegoes @spookednsaucy @matchingbatbites @hangsters

[thorne93]

Unexpected Guest (Part 1)

Prompt: Imagine working a party and seeing a mysteriously handsome man who captures your entire attention. There’s one catch: you’re engaged to a different man.

Warnings: angst, fighting, negative relationships, flirting, language, smoking (cigs? Is that even a warning? idk)...

Word Count: 3078

Notes: Inspired by Gorgeous - Taylor Swift...Beta’d by my amazing @like-a-bag-of-potatoes. I’m so blessed to call you a friend, love. OFC/OC Jeremy

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please@superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr​ @kaeling​

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

Putting the finishing touches on your hair and looking over your daring bright red dress in the mirror, you smiled in approval at the outfit. You were donning a red, form fitting cocktail dress that had a see through sash sweep train, the sash train nearly reaching the floor, landing just above your bright red heels to match. Unfortunately, you didn’t have a good necklace to match but you did have earrings so you popped those in, did another once over, and went out to the living room of your shared home with your fiance.

“So what do you think?” you asked, stepping in front of the tv and twirling, playing with the sash a bit.

Jeremy, your fiance, grunted and tried to peer around you, waving you to move from his sight. “What the hell, Y/N? I’m trying to watch this.”

“So pause it,” you tried. “How do I look?” you asked, your ego already deflated and at this point not really giving a shit what he thought.

He frowned angrily and looked at you as if you just interrupted the biggest business deal of the year. He whipped his face to your body for half a second. “You look fine.” His eyes shot back to the screen before asking, “Where you going?”

“I told you this every day this week, I’m going to a party for Nicholas Hamilton. We’re catering...for the It party?” you said as a reminder, your voice going up to try and trigger some remembrance.

He barely shrugged.

You sighed. “Good night. I’m not sure how long the party will run, but we’re supposed to be catering and serving alcohol all night so don’t wait up,” you informed as you grabbed your clutch. “If you could, do the dishes, please.”

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun at your shower,” he called as you went out the door, his remark making you roll your eyes. His behavior wasn’t atypical. This was normal for him to not know what you were doing, or where, or when. You would tell him and he’d forget or just flat not listen. For the past three years since you’ve been engaged, you’ve chalked it up to him not wanting to be involved with the girly part of your life or the infamous myth that “men never listen”.

You hopped in your car and drove through LA to the home of Nicholas, to meet your team. You had a team of around eleven people for this party. It was a simple, typical Los Angeles house party. He expected one hundred guests, so you would accommodate that with two bartenders, five servants--three circulating the party, two on standby at the buffet to serve--and you had five cooks back at the restaurant to prepare it all. You didn’t need to be at this party, per se, but being a control freak, it certainly helped your nerves to know that your staff was doing their best and that the food looked and tasted perfectly.

On this particular party, you didn’t prepare any of the food, but they were all your recipes and creations, but you trusted your chefs fully to prepare this food. Typically, you would help, but in this case you just wanted to oversee the event.

You finally arrived at the home, just in time to see the team unloading the trays of food, utensils, flatware, and glassware.

“Oh good, you’re on time,” you breathed as you rushed up to your staff.

“Of course we’re on time,” Jeff responded with a scoff, one of the young servers you’d hired. He was a definite asset to your team.

“Well I was just--” you started before a chorus of workers cut you off.

“Worried.”

“Yeah, we know,” your best friend and top employee, Ida, stated as she grabbed a tray, her raven hair pulled up in a sleek bun. “You don’t have to fret. We know how to do this,” she assured.

“I know but I just can’t help it,” you reminded, slightly wringing your hands. “Have you all been inside yet?”

“Nope, just got here,” Jeff informed.

“Ah, great.” At that, you ran up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the bell. Nicholas answered, greeting you with a smile and a hug.

“You’re here! Awesome!” he said opening the door.

“Absolutely! Where would you like us to set up?” you questioned.

“I’ll show you. Come on,” he said, gesturing inside the moderately sized home. You led the way for your staff of seven through the house to a fairly large kitchen with an island and plenty of counter space. “So use whatever space you need. If you need anything, let me know. The party will start in about an hour so…”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. “And thank you again for picking us to cater the event.”

He shrugged. “Hey, your food is freakin’ awesome. That stuff was like crack on set. I knew I had to have you again.”

“Well thank you again. We’ll get everything set up and warming,” you informed as the staff filed past you with trays, dishes, and a myriad of other goods. “Okay, Ryan, put that tray over there. Jennifer, could you start the warming trays--”

“Y/N, stop,” Ida commanded softly. “We know what we’re doing. How about we set up and you can correct us if you don’t like it?”

It took you a second to concede, a little unwilling to relinquish power but you nodded. Everyone seemed to relax by a fraction and they set to work. You watched them, quietly, observing how they set it up, how fast it took, if they did it properly and in a sanitary manner. So far they were doing everything exactly as you would want done. The hors d'oeuvres were arranged neatly and in an appealing manner. The main dishes were on their warming trays. The plates, glasses, and utensils were arranged perfectly. The bartenders got set up with their glasses, tumblers, and a small bar that you’d purchased. It was a collapsable sort of bar, but it was sturdy and well made. This way, it gave the real feeling of being at a bar, and the bartender could keep an eye on his glasses, the alcohol, and tips. All the while, the crew was back and forth from the van, bringing in more of everything.

About thirty minutes later, a DJ showed up. He was actually one of the hotter DJs in LA right now. You only knew this because you’d seen him at a few of the events your company catered, and being one of the top  three caterers in the city was a good indicator you were at all the right events.

Though being at all of these glamorous parties, it didn’t have the effect on you it might have other people. You hardly ever watched TV or movies. You never went to the theater, you didn’t binge Netflix, you didn’t rent redbox, you didn’t have Hulu. Every once in a blue moon, you’d watch a movie, if you’d seen the trailer for a movie that was spectacular, but typically you didn’t watch anything. Instead, you read or you were working on recipes. You didn't have a lot of time for much of anything else, and if you did, you didn’t use that time for it.

In a way, it was a blessing. Because if you knew who these people were, what they played in, it might make you act differently. Like being star struck, and you didn’t want to be that way. You knew a lot of actors, actresses, directors, or producers names. You knew most of the “big” ones, the ones people could only ignore if they lived under a rock, such as George Clooney, Charlize Theron, Angelina Jolie...But even then, you held your composure. If you worked directly with a big name in Hollywood, they quickly turned into any other customer: what food do they want, where and when do they want it. The whole mystique of the title of being an actor or director fell away when you were working on how many shrimp cocktails they wanted.

So when Nicholas reached out for this party, you were pleasantly surprised. You’d catered for the set of It for about three weeks towards the end of filming, but that was nearly a year ago now. You’d brought them lunch every day, and got to see a glimpse of the magic happening for that movie. Now, Nicholas was throwing a party one week before the premiere.

Part of you wanted to see it because you’d read the book long ago, part of you didn’t care if you never saw it. In fact, you weren’t sure who played the clown. You knew most of the kids because they would storm the food table as soon as the director let them loose for lunch and you often joked around with them, but the clown would stand up, stare at you for a moment, which usually creeped you the fuck out, then he would disappear. You always assumed he just went to get out of makeup or went to take a rest because he never approached the table to get food, at least while you were there.

The party had just started, with people filling in quickly, heading straight for the food. You made sure to get the hell out of the way as people grabbed plates and glasses and filled up on food and drink then set out to mingle in the house or out in the medium back yard with pool and patio. It made you fill with pride and happiness to see people take bites of your food and light up.

After about an hour and a half into the party, and you mingling with some of the younger actors you’d met on set, along with other people you’d never met, a man showed up at the party. He was tall and lanky, but he took your breath away. He was absolutely gorgeous with dark hair and eyes that made it impossible for you to move. He entered the house, his eyes scanning the party before they landed on yours, and when they did, a small smile touched his face. He nodded to you before setting off through the throng of people.

Your jaw was hanging open. You weren’t sure what had just happened. That man had completely captivated you, but you were sure you’d never seen him before. No, eyes and a face like that you would’ve remembered. Your eyes were glued to his back as he made his way out to the back yard.

Finally, you regained composure and went back into the kitchen where Ida was refilling one of the platters. You stood against the counter, speechless, as Ida saw you out of the corner of her eye.

“You look like you saw a ghost. What’s up?” she questioned before turning her attention back to her task.

“This guy...He...I don’t know. He just walked in and he looked right at me and…Ida, he was gorgeous,” you said in a breathy voice.

She chuckled lightly. “That good, huh? You need to pick your drooling chin off the floor though. You have a fiance,” she reminded.

Just then, you remembered, you did. How awful of a person were you that a pretty face made you entirely forget about the man waiting at home for you? Even if Jeremy was sometimes a passive dick, he didn’t deserve what you’d just done. You shook your head, the self loathing starting to wash over you.

As soon as Ida stepped away, you went back to mingling, subtly asking people if they enjoyed the food and nearly illuminating from head to toe when they raved about it. Yet all night, as the music sounded through the air, the lights dimmed outside and in, the mysterious man would appear then disappear, each time, the two of you would steal glances, no matter if he was talking to someone or you were, your eyes always found each other. When your gazes did meet, you were frozen for those few seconds, completely transfixed, as if he had a spell on you. You’d stare at each other a moment, then go back to mingling. Sometimes he broke the gaze, sometimes you did, but it happened an insurmountable amount of times.

The jitters of the party and praying everything went well, along with the captivating guy, you needed a break. You stepped outside on the patio and fished around your clutch for the small pack of cigs you kept. Typically you were a social smoker but your anxiety had peaked due to the party, the tiff with Jeremy, and this guy so you needed some nicotine related relaxation. The quiet of the outside and the zero guests made it appealing.

Why was this guy so damned gorgeous? And why did it bother you? You worked in LA, hot men paraded in and out of your store and at parties and events you attended all the time. What the hell did this fucker have that you’d never encountered before? You lit the cigarette and took a drag.

“Having a good night?” a smooth voice suddenly sounded beside you. You didn’t recognize it so it wasn’t Nicholas or anyone on your staff or anyone you’d talked to tonight. You turned slightly to your left to see the man in question. Instantly your mouth dried and your heart raced.

“Uh, yeah. I am,” you responded, stammering a bit, then frowning at yourself for acting like a total spaz. He got closer to you, pulling a pack out for himself and lighting up, but you couldn’t look at him, he was too intimidating. “And you?” you questioned. “You having a nice evening?” you inquired before flicking your ash.

“Not really, but then I saw you,” he stated.

You half smiled, the other half wanted to roll your eyes at his statement. So you turned to look at him to tell him off for using such a lame ass line, but when your eyes landed on him, you couldn’t breathe. He had the cigarette poised in his mouth, his fingers cradling it, taking a drag. This was the first time you’d been this close to him all night, face to face. The sight of him and that cigarette, made your insides do things it hadn’t done in a long time for anyone, including Jeremy. Not to mention the dark sweater and jean combo he was wearing that complimented his fair skin nicely.

“Uh...Um..wow, what a poor excuse for a pickup line,” you chastised when you gathered your senses.

“Who said it was a line?” he asked before blowing the smoke out.

Just then, a blush hit you hard. It was a big assumption on your part that he was hitting on you.

“Oh...I…” you stuttered, feeling like a dumbass.

He grinned at you. “It was, a bit,” he confessed, saving you from your meltdown. “But seriously. You look amazing tonight.”

“You say that as if we’ve met,” you noted curiously.

“I saw you on set,” he informed.

“Oh,” you said, realizing why he said what he said.

“Yeah,” he continued.

The blush heated your cheeks again. “Well...thank you.” A moment of quiet passed between you two. “So you worked on the set for It? Were you on the crew?” You only asked because, if he was an actor, you would’ve met him, and you hadn’t.

He gave you a strange look, almost puzzled, before he gave a slight nod and said, “Yeah, something like that.” A sideways smile crept on his face and you found yourself smiling like an idiot back at him. “So you’re with the caterers?”

“It’s my business,” you informed nonchalantly, gesturing inside back at the party. “I’m just here to oversee,” you informed.

He nodded toward you. “Ah. Well the food is exceptional. Your recipes?”

“Every last one,” you answered. “Can’t say that I’ve seen you eat them though,” you noted.

“I’m good like that. I get the job done and no one’s the wiser,” he said with a wink before taking another drag.

“Ah, I see.”

Just as you were about to ask about his name, and introduce yourself, Sophia, one of the young actresses ran out onto the patio and grabbed his sleeve and began tugging.

“Come on! We’re about to watch the trailer together! Come on!” she encouraged excitedly.

He laughed lightly at her enthusiasm. “Alright, alright, let me put this out,” he said before taking another hit then throwing it on the patio and snuffing out any flame with his shoe. He gave you a polite apology smile, due to the over excited cast member and you nodded and shrugged, waving it off. “Nice to see you,” he said as he was drug inside the house.

You gave a small wave before finishing your cigarette and joining the others back in the living room. You found your way to the back, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, your eyes on the huge tv, watching the trailer for the first time.

The footage rolled and you couldn’t help but still be creeped out by the clown. On set he was much more menacing looking than on screen. But the trailer itself seemed to scare you, enough that you felt jumpy the rest of the evening. As soon as the footage ended, the guests cheered and roared, grabbing each other for hugs or high fives. You smiled at the lot of them and the work they’d done.

It was around midnight and the food was low, but no one was really eating any more, mainly drinking. The team started to pack up the food and trays, while your two bartenders stayed hard at work.

“I’m gonna go home,” you informed Ida, to which she nodded.

The mystery man continued to fade in and out of your view all evening but you didn’t speak to him any further. You left when you didn’t see him, escaping into your car and driving home, to meet a sleeping Jeremy who hadn’t made dinner and left the dishes in the sink, unwashed. You got angry for a moment, but then took a deep breath, trying to remember that maybe he was tired and needed a break. Then you headed for bed, knowing you’d have to get up early to deal with the dishes.