#(or shitty puns in general) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freak-accident419 · 4 months

Text

Good Tidings

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Josh barely have any time to yourselves due time traveling nonstop, trying to save the fate of humanity. However, being at the Futturman’s Christmas dinner party granted you two a fair amount of time.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader (no genitals specified, it’s just vague penetration), cockwarming, lots of fluff, takes place during Future Man S1E6 “A Blowjob Before Dying”, too much shitty sex jokes n puns (im sorry) (not), giddy+silly+sweet love making, you think you are sooo fucking funny, more goofy than serious/lustful, you two are very much in love, more plot (high ass dialogue) than porn tbh

(A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! Hope you enjoy this muahahaha and thank you all for your recent support! First smut written on this account, so be gentle with me please !)

You, Tiger, Wolf, and Josh were at the Futturman household, schedule disrupted due to the reluctance of Josh’s parents. They insisted that you all join them for their small Christmas dinner party. You were all sat down at the dining table, as well as the neighbors, Josh’s Uncle Barry, and Diane’s friend, Wanda (who was especially invited to perhaps keep Barry at bay).

While Tiger was mostly impatient and displeased with every mindless convo and laughter, talk revolved around several topics like DNA kits or Wolf’s strangely fascinating culinary.

You sat beside your boyfriend, Josh, slightly nervous about the time you were wasting. Ever since you’ve been dragged into the whole ‘Biotic Wars is real’ and ‘kill or be killed’ shit, you and Josh have been dealing with the worst, unimaginable shit ever. With the two of your adrenaline wearing off, you gradually processed everything that’s happened the past few days since you were never given a break. Hence the hand holding under the table as you two would seek comfort from one another.

But you attempted to distract yourself from the deaths you’ve witnessed and the near-death experiences you’ve had to your best ability by indulging in every conversation.

“Gabe, honey, tell them about—about the recent fishing trip we went on,” Josh’s mother, Diane encouraged to her husband with her sweet, achingly kind voice. You had so much respect for Josh’s parents, so it was pretty easy for you all to hit it off well. They loved you. In fact, they were heavily relieved that Josh had finally found someone, let alone someone as amazing as you.

Gabe let out a hearty chuckle as he prepared himself to tell the table his story.

“So, a couple of days ago, Diane and I went on a small fishing trip. And I remembered an old trick back in the day that attracted a lot of trout,” he explained as you picked up your glass of wine, sipping some generously. Diane smiled at him with a nod as he continued. “One of the very efficient ways to go about fish bait is blowing worms.”

You choke on your wine, holding in a laugh, coughing a bit instead as Josh looks at you with a knowing smile. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying not to grin too widely. Did you hear that right?

“Blowing worms,” Gabe repeated, getting a confined chuckle out of you and Josh. “You inflate the worms with air, which makes them float instead of having your bait be at the very bottom. It’s perfect, especially near the winter time. Worked like a charm.”

“Ohh,” you gasp in wonder. You chuckle to yourself before you spontaneously say, “Yeah, actually, I think I did do that a few times. Blew a-a worm.”

You looked at Josh, thinking you were being hilarious, but he looked at you with surprised eyes and parted lips of shock that slowly transitioned into a smile.

“Really?” Josh’s father expressed with intrigue. “I didn’t even know you fish. You have someone teach you that method, or—”

“Oh, no, Mr. Futturman, I,” you speak as you occasionally switch from looking at him to Josh. “I think it’s a very popular method. It’s a pretty natural instinct, you know? Blowing worms, that is.”

“Wow, really? Always thought it was an old-fashioned sort of thing.”

“Nah, far from old-fashioned, it’s almost contemptuous!”

You did pretty well at suppressing your laughter, because you sounded really earnest. Josh covered his mouth, amused by your subtle humor.

“Joshy, we didn’t know that Y/n likes fishing. We could’ve taken them on our trip. In fact, we could’ve all went,” Diane suggests as she looked at Josh and then you.

It was like everyone at the table was blind to your immature, yet humorous implication. Except, of course, your boyfriend.

“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Futturman,” you insisted kindly. “I don’t usually fish. Plus, blowing worms can be very exhausting.”

“Y/n—” Josh reacted, but interrupted himself with a suppressed laugh.

“You think so?” Mr. Futturman raised an eyebrow. “I just stick a syringe in them, inflate it, and bam, it’s all thick and ready to g—”

You and Josh burst out laughing, holding onto the table and each other. You swore there were slight tears coming out of your eyes as both of your faces were red. You felt overjoyed to feel happiness and delight for the first time ever since your involvement in the mission. And you felt even more glad that it was your boyfriend that you fooled around with.

“Sorry, sorry,” Josh says after his laughter died down as the entire table was confused. “I just—We just thought about a, um, moment when—Um… Actually, Y/n and I did go fishing once. Isn’t that—isn’t that right?”

You nod and go along with it, detaining your giggles.

“Well, anyways, we actually did that method, and yeah, you’re right, it works like a charm!” He exclaimed with joy as his parents smile at him with approval and pride.

“Bet the worm was pretty small, huh?” Tiger jumped in wittily, however, in a coldly nonchalant manner.

“And pathetic!” Wolf blurted.

“Hey, even if that might’ve been true—might’ve—it-it probably had a personality, you know?” He reckoned with a shrug, making you laugh again.

***

“You are—are fucking terrible, you know that?” Josh quickly muttered under his breath as you two continued to kiss each other deeply on his bed. “Those were my parents.”

“C’mon, baby, admit it, it was comedy gold,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his once more by tugging his black, skinny necktie towards you as you remained sitting on his lap.

The dinner party was still going on downstairs. After a long time of looking at each other longingly at the table, you two decided to excuse yourselves in order to “prepare gifts for Josh’s coworkers that he forgotten to wrap” in his room.

When you guys rushed in his room, you couldn’t take your hands off each other, immediately making out once the door was locked. However, you then had to close all his blinds before you met him back on the bed. This wasn’t new to you, none of it was. The soft, warm orange that his room’s light emitted strangely comforted you, as well as being back on his soft, spacey mattress.

Was it a good idea to leave Tiger and Wolf alone with Josh’s family and company? Probably not. But you’ve taught them enough shit. They tolerate Josh’s parents, so why not a few other guests as well? And you’ll only be gone for no longer than five minutes, you’d hoped.

You bring your hands to his pants, attempting to unbuckle his belt. “Shit—What the—What the fuck is this?” You grumble, Josh laughing at you as you struggle.

“I think it’s—” He giggled, bringing his own hands to his belt, trying to remove it, pulling. “I think it’s stuck.”

“What the shit?” You wheeze. “Fuckin’—Fuckin’ cock block!” You continue to mess with the belt, trying your best to unbuckle it.

“Wait, you—you’re almost there, you—”

“Oh my god! Holy shit! I got it!” You let out a surprised gasp, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right after.

“Oh shit! Flawless victory!” He exclaimed, making you stop in your tracks, looking back up at him.

“You did not just quote Mortal Kombat because I successfully unbuckled your belt,” you raise an eyebrow, nevertheless amused by his dorkiness.

“Maybe,” he answered smugly.

“You’re lucky I am in love with you, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let that slide,” you chuckle.

“Oh, come on. You’d love my video game references either way,” he insisted.

“I’m serious, Josh, the amount of things I’ve let slide because I love you is kind of crazy. Let me just say, I am so glad I met you after the ‘apple juice’ incident that Ray told me about.”

“Ray told you about that?”

“He told me a lot of things. Mostly the embarrassing things. I think he wanted to freak me out, you know? Always thought I was too good for you.”

You pulled his pants off, throwing it carelessly down on the floor. Your lips attached once more as he snickered as you then cupped his face with your warm hands. You look at your lover, his big, brown, desperate eyes looking at you with utmost adoration. “Well, jokes on him, he was entirely wrong. You are so good to me, you know that?”

He smiles at you softly, and you could sense how flustered he felt to hear that (the blushing patently gave it away). “You’re the one who’s been on my side since forever. Even when you got involved in all this shit that you didn’t even have to be in. You-You could’ve called me crazy, and-and broken up with me, but you believed me and stayed by my side, even knowing that things were gonna get dirty. And they did, get really dirty.” Rest in peace Janis and Carl? Or, rather, die, you evil perf-cocks? Eh, doesn’t fucking matter. “You’re so good for me, sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”

You giggle sweetly as you give him another kiss, a quiet smack caused by your lips deftly leaving his own to speak. “Well, I’m here and I’m real, and I’ll always be there for you, baby,” you reassure. You were perfect for him. Indefinitely.

He smiled blissfully. “I love you so much.”

You two made out passionately until you were laying under him, the lower halves of your bodies bare as you discarded the necessary clothes.

“Do you think your parents and everyone else knew about the worm thing or are they just that… I don’t know… clueless?” You asked endearingly under your breath as your fingers entangle in his soft, brown hair.

“Hmm. Possibly,” he reckons, raising his eyebrows as he thought about it. “That was still kind of evil of you, though.”

“Me, personally, I thought it was hilarious.”

“Blowing worms?”

“C’mon, your father set himself up for that.”

“Tiger called it small,” he muttered lamentably. “And Wolf said it was pathetic.”

“Jeez, whatever happened to personality?” You chuckle softly.

He sighed. “They still sort of called me out.”

“Shut up. It’s average, to say the least. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re enough.”

“But—”

“Josh, if it bothers you this much, then just prove them wrong right now,” you reply with a laugh.

“As in—?”

“Josh, c’mon, we don’t have time anyways. They’re expecting us any minute because of that shitty made-up story excuse. I love foreplay, dude, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t acknowledge the time at all. Quickies are definitely not our cup of tea. Y—” Your breath hitched as you felt his tip prod at your sensitive entrance. He gave you a soft, comforting kiss on the nose. You looked into each other’s eyes deeply, then your lips crashed into each other’s as the two of you stifled your moans once Josh finally thrusted in.

“Y-You know you’re p-perfect just the—mm—way you are, right?” You ask gently, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled at this, kissing your lips once more, beginning to move. Your heart fluttered each second you felt him thrust in and out, slightly and satisfyingly stretching you. His hips moved quite skillfully, but also slightly clumsily, which was nonetheless admirable.

Your usual soft moans and gasps would be replaced by stifled grunts and sighs, due to the company downstairs. As much as you wanted the whole world to know that Josh Futturman was yours and only yours, you also had dignity—plus, it was his goddamn parents downstairs.

You giggled as you felt his nose against yours each rough kiss. “Y-You know, however, I think the only complaint I have about you is the fact that you hate Super Mario Bros.” You point out with a chuckle.

“Y/n, in my—agh—defense, it literally makes no sense. Like, why would there be pipes that are—”

“Okay, why rely solely on logic and rationality, hm, Futturman? I thought video games were all about escape. It’s all just harmless fun.”

“Yeah, well, I’m much more into games with thought-out plots and challenges,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Anyways, it pretty much just got ruined for me even more when Tracy at the video game store talked about Luigi having a very hairy, Italian cock.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Baby, I love you. However, your goddamn dick is currently inside of me. Please do not talk about Luigi’s theoretic hairy penis.”

“Noted,” he assents, going back to kissing you passionately, while moving slowly inside of you, yet deeper with each thrust. You let out a quiet, pleasured gasp as you felt him fill you perfectly, his hands lovingly gripping your waist to keep you still.

Your eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling of his gentle thrusts, him peppering kisses on your neck, softly chuckling under his breath. He guessed he was still in disbelief that he had someone as amazing as you.

“I… I still can’t believe someone as perfect as you would ever go out with a loser like me,” he scoffed, pressing more kisses against your neck and jaw.

“Hey, seriously?” You frown, holding his face in your hands once more, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are… a lot of things, Josh. But a loser isn’t one of them. Okay? You are so kind and funny and caring and thoughtful a-and—m-mm—amazing i-in general.”

“I—Fuck. I—I don’t deserve you,” he panted.

“J-Jesus Christ, sh-shut your fuckin’ rathole. Yes you do, baby. You deserve me as much as I deserve you.”

It was becoming harder to focus on your words as you continued to feel an increased sensation and pleasure as his thrusts quicken and falter. You let out a small gasp as you tense things up by wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. You two had been speaking and giggling to each other constantly that you didn’t even notice the lewd, wet, slapping against the skin that came from each heavy thrust. Josh grabbed one of your hands, interlocking your fingers tightly on the mattress beside your head.

“J-Josh, I—” You begin breathlessly.

“I know, me too,” he grunts as soft, inaudible whimpers and whines leave his lips while the movement of his hips stuttered. His rhythm was becoming unsteady, but it was also increasing in speed. “I—Y/n, f-fuck, I’m c—”

“Sh-shit, baby, I—” You pant as you felt closer and closer over the edge, every mere feeling increasing your stimulation. You bring your hand to cover your mouth and suppress any loud moans as you finally released, the knot in your stomach undoing itself as you sigh afterwards once your hand left your mouth. Josh came exactly right after you as his hips jolted for the final time, spilling his warm, white seed inside of you, burying his face in your neck to muffle a high-pitched grunt and acute whines.

You two were breathing heavily, kissing each other’s lips softly and lovingly after you both came down from your high. You two never moved from your position, still fragile and sore. Josh caressed the side of your waist under your shirt, his head resting in your neck as you moved your hand to play with his hair, holding him in your arms.

“This is probably the only time we’ll have together alone before we have to continue with the damn mission,” you figured, tangling his strands of hair in between your fingers.

“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, his thumb continuing to rub your waist.

“Enjoy the moment while we can?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed dejectedly.

A beat.

“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just… I like it whenever you’re inside of me,” you comment softly. This was probably the most affectionately vulnerable and honest you have been with him. Your tone lacked any intention for humor or lust; you were genuine.

He lifted his head up from your neck. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know. It just feels right. You know, as if you were, like, made for me exactly,” you whispered lovesickly, looking down at his sweet, plump lips to his profound, gorgeous brown eyes. “I wanna stay like this a little longer. You’re so perfect for me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, kissing your lips soothingly.

Then suddenly,

“Futturman! L/n! Get out of there, we gotta go now! Operation Cameronium!” Tiger called from the other side of the door. “Goddamnit. The fucking—tiny man—baby thing—is, just, really starting to piss me off. Let’s go!”

You and Josh looked at each other for a while in silence before bursting out into laughter.

“We-we better go before she considers murdering little baby Wallace,” you suggest with a soft smile.

“Yeah… Wait. Do you really think—”

“No…” You answer before he could finish his sentence. “I know she seems all stoic on the outside, but I feel like the past few days, she changed a bit. Empathy-wise. Slightly, at the very least.” Josh nods.

“I’m really gonna miss this,” he sighs.

“Me too. But don’t worry, once we fix everything, we have all the time in the world together,” you assert.

“Okay,” he smiles sweetly, kissing your lips before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you to feel empty and slightly bummed.

The two of you, with your clothes back on and hair quickly fixed, you waltzed downstairs with no problem. Your hands had been interlocked, faces a bit flushed as you smile to yourselves.

“You two sure look happy,” Diane expresses joyfully. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, wrapping all those gifts upstairs, huh?”

You giggled under your breath. “Oh, yeah, definitely, Mrs. Futturman. Uh, very much so. I really love Christmas, you know? The gift wrapping Joshy and I did upstairs and, you know, all the Christmas traditions. ‘Specially, ‘specially the yule log.” You look at Josh with a knowing grin as he just listened in, suspecting nothing at all. “Really makes you feel warm inside, am I right?”

619 notes · View notes

pedgito · 2 years

Text

rentals & records ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader.

summary: eddie can't hide the fact that he's sort of obsessed with you, but you can't deny that you might be secretly obsessed with him too.

cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, oral sex (f&m receiving), soft sex, virgin!eddie

word count: 11.4k. someone shut me up pls.

request are always open!

“I really need to know who rents this thing out so much that the entire cover is starting to fall apart.” Steve’s holding up a horrible worn out version of a Cheech & Chong movie you can’t decipher the title of. You squint, hard. It was pretty faded, pun absolutely intended. Reefer Rick was still in prison, so that counted him out immediately—there could be only one other culprit.

The familiar clang of the entrance bell startled you half to death, sending you whipping around to look behind you.

“Harrington! How’s it been?” Eddie Munson, of course.

“Eddie.” Steve nods in greeting, sounding exhausted already. You kick him in the shin, eyes sending him a look of warning when he yelps in pain. “What brings you in?”

You three already knew the answer to that question. It was you. Eddie had used every reason under the sun to find a way to come visit you while you were working. It was kind of endearing, you couldn’t lie. But, Eddie was a friend. He had always been just a friend.

“Just returning a rental.” Eddie replies, waving the VHS above his head.

“I’ve got it.” You assure Steve, who couldn’t be bothered to leave the mess of already disorganized rentals he had to sort through. You couldn’t tell if it was the girl trouble—or lack thereof, that Steve was having that was causing him to be in such a slump, or the general lack of disinterest in his job.

“Eddie.” Your voice is dripping with sweetness, fingertips dragging along the counter as you scoot in behind the front desk. “Just returning?”

“Might take a quick look around, if you don’t mind.” He tells you, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Unless you’ve got some suggestions, princess?”

You let out a soft ‘hmph’, shaking your head at the nickname he had come up with. It started sophomore year of high school, a shitty jab at how prissy you acted—a lot of that was part of hanging around with the wrong crowd. But, now you had Steve—you balanced each other out pretty well. The word felt different coming from his mouth now, a lot less bite behind it. You had always been friends, but never close enough that you spent time with him outside of school or sat with him at lunch, to busy with the swarm of girls that flocked around each other, you being suck right into the center of it all. That didn't stop the dizzying feeling you felt every time he set his eyes on you.

“I’m fresh out.” You assure him with a playful smirk, you hesitantly point in Steve’s direction. “But, we just got one of your favorites back in, if you wanna rent it out.”

“My favorite?” He teases, curling a stray strand of hand around his finger. It was almost criminal how beautiful his hair was, never a piece out of place, a true work of art. “You keepin’ tabs on me?”

“It’s in the system, Eddie.” It was his most frequented rental and always came back reeking of weed—something you didn’t even know to be possible. “You’ve rented it out sixteen times.”

“Oh.” He deflated slightly—he seemed a little ashamed, maybe? You didn’t find it weird, not really—there’s no way you could admit how many times you’ve watched The Breakfast Club, something you would carry with you to the grave.

“Steve!” You shout, grabbing his attention. Your head nods in the direction of Eddie—and like Steve was a mind reader, tosses the rental in your direction. You catch it with ease, tossing it on the counter. A stoner’s favorite, that was for sure.

“You rent these out to high school students?” Eddie asks from an obscure corner of the store—“Robocock. Huh, that’s fucking hilarious.”

Steve’s at a loss for words, glancing at you from his hiding spot, surfing through his ever growing pile. You stifle that laugh that comes out at the sight of his horrified face. You didn’t understand why Steve looked so scandalized when you knew he snuck out the adult film rentals on a regular basis. He just wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.

“You’re twenty, Eddie.” You remind him, “Not seventeen.”

He shrugs, tossing it back on the shelf. “Got any new releases?”

You think for a moment, “No, not for the past few weeks. I guess you’ll just have to suffer through a few more rewatches of those ridiculous little stoner movies you like.”

“Hey, not ridiculous.” His ringed finger is pointing in your direction, he’s slowly making his way back toward the cash register, glancing aimlessly down the aisle, eyes not really landing on anything in particular—except for you. “They’re a cinematic masterpiece.”

Entirely too unconvinced, you hold your hand out, waiting for him to slide over his ID. “You just gotta give ‘em a try, I swear.” He adds, setting the card in your hand gently.

He’s got the biggest grin on his face, which wasn’t out of the norm for him, but his eyes lingered on your for a little too long and that last thing you wanted to think was that it was meant entirely for you. Because no, absolutely not. You could not handle another boy wrecking your life, right now.

“No, Robocock?” You tease, the word sounds even more lewd than you had intended.

While you had never partaken in the content yourself, you were aware. You just couldn’t handle the cheesy lines and horrible faked situations that ended with someone getting pounded over an object that looked way too uncomfortable to be spread out over—they were a hard, hard no.

You clear your throat awkwardly, realizing how caught off guard Eddie looked—like you had insulted his all time favorite metal band and shit on his choice of music all in one go—you could never shit on Eddie’s music choice, not when you indulged in the same songs on a daily basis. But really, he was at a loss of words.

“Maybe next time.” He says slowly, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened.

“Sweet.” You drag out, attempting to input the rental information into the decrepit contraption in front of you, waiting for what felt like hours for it to finally rise from the dead. “And you’re good, here—“

“Are you busy this weekend?” Eddie asks suddenly, jarring you out of reality for a moment. His voice quieter, like he was hoping Steve wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Yeah, actually.” You tell him. It wasn’t an excuse, you were working a double shift to cover Steve’s ass because you were an amazing friend who cared about their well-being and ability to potentially help your friend get laid. “I have to work all weekend.”

“Oh—sounds like torture.” He jokes, tapping the VHS idly against the counter. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and you hate how disappointed that makes you feel. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again this weekend then, princess.”

“Can’t wait.” You reply teasingly, causing Eddie to chuckle quietly in response. “God knows I’ll be boring myself to death all weekend.”

“I’ll be your knight in shining armor, no worries.” He adds, adjusting the front of his jacket, displaying the infamous Hellfire Club tee he dawned underneath.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You wiggle a finger at him, watching intently as he made a show of swinging a fake sword, walking backwards toward the door, not realizing that he was about to run smack into another customer.

“Hey, fuckin’ watch it, kid.” A much older man shouts, shoving past Eddie. You can’t help but laugh.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Your shift at Family Video on Saturday is entirely too uneventful, aside from the two underage kids who tried to sneak in and steal some of the content from the adult section, which then promptly ended in them being embarrassed by half of the store during one of the busier hours of the day. You shooed them away quickly and suffered through the rest of that god forsaken shift—boy, was that a story for Steve.

Thankfully, Sunday comes quickly and you’re shuffling out of your house at the speed of light, trying to make it before opening time to set up the store in peace.

“Don’t forget, sweetheart—I need you to cover the store for a few hours while I’m gone tonight.” Your dad spoke, stopping you at the front door. You nod your head fervently, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about.

“Gotcha, I’ll make sure to lock up everything, don’t worry.”

He was definitely going to remind you about ten more times.

He owned a small record store on the corner of downtown, right across from the frequently visited supermarket that almost the entire town went to. It was great for business, amazing in fact, always bringing back the old customers, but happily welcoming in the new ones. It was his prized possession and probably the only reason you leaned so heavily into loving music.

You spend an hour setting up shop at Family Video—wiping down counters, checking on any new stock, and finally settling down into a spot to sort through rentals that either needed to be thrown out or re-shelved. It was monotonous, but enough to keep you busy—busy enough that the store had already been open for at least a half hour, you not even bothering to flip on the neon sign that hung from the front window of the store.

“This might help.” The familiar voice says,, nearly scaring the life out of you. You grasp your chest in horror, falling ass first onto the floor. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“Jesus, Eddie—the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, standing at full height, the top of your head barely reaching his nose. “You cannot sneak up on people like that.”

“I figured you heard me come in—plus, the doors were unlocked.” Fair point. Still, you were annoyed. “Really, you okay?”

“Yeah.” You huff, smoothing the dust off of your pants and adjusting the horrible, itchy work vest you wore. “Just, please—never do that again.”

“Cross my heart.” Eddie replies endearingly, hand pressed against his chest. He leans forward, noticing the small button on your vest that read ‘Ask me about Science Fiction!’, he flicks it amusingly.

“So, any good suggestions for me today?” He asks, “maybe something science fiction-y?” Eddie’s fishing for something, you’re just not sure what. You steal the previous rental from his hands, placing it on the counter.

“I would suggest Star Wars, but I think that’s an obvious one—you’ve probably already seen it.” You travel down the row, Eddie not very far behind.

“I haven’t.”

Your mouth practically drops to the floor in shock—of course Eddie hadn’t seen it, this man knew of three things—weed, heavy rock music, and more weed.

“What? Is that bad?” His eyebrow is quirked up inquisitively, bracing both hands against the top of surrounding rows.

“It’s a fucking crime, Eddie.” You slap the rental into his chest, grabbing his hand to force it into his hold and out of yours.

He’s laughing, turning on his heels to follow you obediently. Truly, he just hadn’t found the time to actually sit down and enjoy it, it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“So, Star Wars—check.” He lists off, “Anything else?”

“You should probably start off slow.” You suggest coyly, patting his arm. “No need to over indulge, then you won’t be able to put them down.”

That was his problem exactly. He’d overindulged into you and now—he just couldn’t quit, he had to know everything. Likes, dislikes, why you always came to school with such a sour puss look on your face, or why you always ate lunch in your car instead of inside the cafeteria—why you always made sure to bump into him in the hallway just to find a reason to speak to him in front of his friends (okay, maybe you definitely went out of your way to talk to him as often as you could.) —not that he cared, but he wasn’t losing his mind when he noticed that his interest wasn’t completely one-sided.

And yeah, maybe Eddie was just what you needed, but boys—boys were off limits. School, work, home. That’s how your life worked and it worked well. Routine was the only thing that kept you on such a straight line. Aside from that freshman hook up with Jason, then Jay from Band class, and that one—very quick—time with Aaron from Physics, there was also the other Erin—in contrast, she’d been an absolute dream to experience, both as a friend and someone who you felt safe enough sharing some of your firsts with. So maybe you weren’t as focused as you should’ve been—but you were trying, that counted, right?

“Princess,” Eddie’s voice brings you back to the surface, his fingers snapping in your face to break you from the trance you had fallen in, “time to come back to the land of the living.”

“Sorry,” You smile sheepishly, “What were you saying?”

He has the nerve to look smug, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. “I didn’t say anything. You just went blank and—“ He waves his hands wildly in your direction, as if that made any sense.

You try to calm your thoughts, your mind, focusing yourself with the task at hand—get Eddie Munson out of here as soon as possible.

“Got that spare copy of Robo—“ You pull the copy of the horrible named porno from under the desk where you had left. That section was a nightmare to sort through. “Oh, well there was supposed to be a joke there—but now I forgot.” He seemed caught off guard by the idea that you already knew exactly what he was gearing to say. “You hidin’ it for yourself or something?”

“God no.” You scoff, typing idly. “I never step foot in that area of the store—that’s all Harrington’s domain.”

Eddie extends his hand out, making a soft grabbing motion toward the object in your hand. You offer it up cautiously, watching as he saunters over to the section and plopped it right back into the spot it belonged.

Well, that was one way to make the job easier. Actually—

“Hey, are you busy right now?” It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s still worth it.

“Depends on why you’re asking.” Eddie says slowly, palms resting against the counter upon his return. He’s eyeing you carefully, you try not to look away.

“I could use the help sorting,” You start, pointing at the pile you hadn’t even made a dent in yet, “and I’ve gotta cover a shift at the record store in a few hours, so I’d really like to get this shit done, preferably today.”

“Record store? The one over by Bradley’s Big Buy?” Eddie perked up out of nowhere. “I go there all the time.”

“Yeah.” You reply is slow, methodical. “My dad owns it.”

“No fuckin’ way.” If Eddie was trying to hide the fact that you may have just become his favorite person ever, he was doing a terrible job. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You know what—you help me get through all of this before my shift ends and I’ll let you sift through the storage in the back of the record shop where we keep the real gems, let you take a few as a reward for your hard work. Deal?” You hold out your hand, waiting for the deal to be set in stone.

“Oh, hell yeah.” Eddie says, shaking your hand firmly.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The keys jingle as you fiddle with the lock on the door. Eddie’s feet doing a soft pitter-patter behind you. He was antsy as hell, more so than you had ever seen him. It was driving you insane—you turn abruptly to look at him.

“Eddie, seriously—I’m going to have to strap you to a chair if you don’t stop.” He didn’t think you were serious, but you were absolutely willing to do whatever was needed.

“Sorry.” He says softly, the shuffling coming to a stop a few moments after. You offer him a warm smile, finally managing to force the lock to turn, opening the back entrance to the shop.

The smell was something you could never forget. It was similar to the smell of old books, mixed with the sweet smell of cinnamon. The small area that encased the back of the store was for employees—a lounge area fit for a few people with a small kitchenette attached. You glance back at Eddie, who hadn’t moved from the spot he was in. You grab for his wrist, gently yanking him inside and shutting the door behind you.

“When I said stop I didn’t mean freeze.” You joke playfully, continuing to hold onto the sleeve of his jacket as you tug him through the rest of the way, turning another corner to reach the storage room. “A few rules—none of the boxes off the top shelf, mostly because I don’t want you hurting yourself and I have no idea how sturdy those things are and two, you don’t speak a word of this to anyone—not a single soul, Eddie Munson.”

“Heard, boss.” He nods eagerly.

“Voila.” Throwing your hand out to the side fancifully, allowing him a grand entrance into the only sacred part of this building.

If anyone found out about this, you were surely dead.

“There’s a few first editions in here, some misprints, a lot of represses and remasters—it’s a lot so just…have at it.” Eddie’s holding his hands close to his body, afraid that if he touches anything it was going to disintegrate into a pile of dust, which was very well possible.

“Personally, I’d go with a copy of Ozzy or Iron Maiden, these are almost impossible to get your hands on.” You pull out the two covers simultaneously, parading them out for show. His smile is genuine, but it doesn’t seem to be what he’s looking for.

He scans around for a minute before finally stopping on a box a few feet away. “Aha!” Eddie exclaims, holding the piece up in front of him. “Found you.”

Metallica. You should’ve known. It was a damn good album, even you could attest to that. “Good choice.” You nudge him gently, sifting through the box in front of him. If he wants to say something, he doesn’t. Eddie bites his tongue, for once. It was way too much to unpack in one evening—the idea of some popular priss of the school like you even recognizing how absolutely metal this album was.

“Actually, I think I’ll stick with this.” Eddie tells you, following your lead as you exited the storage room. He didn’t want to be greedy or take advantage of the situation and you were fine with that, it was nice, actually. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever managed to have a conversation with a boy that didn’t end with him asking to shove a hand up your shirt, or worse.

Though, Eddie’s own bubble of bliss popped at the sound of a voice carrying through to the back of the store, eyes widening in fear. You panic, shoving him into a dark corner, down one of the rows, yanking him down to squat out of sight.

“I thought you said we didn’t have to worry about your dad showing up?!” Eddie says in a hushed whisper, eyes showing how desperate he was to escape this situation.

You silence him with the palm of your hand, pulling him lower, almost on top of you, to avoid being seen. You turn to peek from under the legs that held up the bins of records, watching as your father wandered around until he found what he was looking for—his wallet, of all fucking things. Eddie says something into your hand, but it’s muffled. You swat him gently, but it’s enough to warrant a warning—and the look you give him... he obeys almost immediately.

The moment you two are finally alone again, you both collapse with a loud sigh on the floor—hearts pounding out of your chest.

“Am I dead?” Eddie asks, staring up at the ceiling. You lean over him, popping into his line of sight.

“If you’re dead, I guess I’ll have to take back that copy of—“ You slowly reach for the record he still had a death grip on.

“No, no. Anything but that.” He begs, holding it closer to his chest. You chuckle softly, pushing yourself up. Eddie follows suit slowly, still reeling from the aftermath of what had just happened.

“Wanna listen for a bit?” You suggest, trying to ease some of his nerves. “I’ve got a few minutes until I have to open shop and that record player up front is top of the fuckin’ line. It sounds amazing.”

“You wanna listen? To Metallica?” He asks, confirming what he had suspected earlier, but it still didn’t help hide the bewilderment he was experiencing.

“The fact that I know you’re judging me so hard is kind of an asshole move, Munson.” You tease, grabbing the vinyl from his hand and setting it onto the record player.

It crackles to life, almost like magic, the song begins to play dimly in the background. You didn’t want to risk blowing the speakers out this early, so a manageable volume seemed appropriate.

“I’m not judging, I swear. I just��I had no idea, you know.” He’s leaning against the wall, hands crossed loosely over his chest. “Metal heads are a rare breed, they think we’re all fuckin’ nuts.”

“Aren’t we?” You joke, perched against the top of one of the leather chairs arranged near the entrance.

“There’s no way you’re real.” Eddie shakes his head with disbelief, running a twitchy hand through the back of his hair. It makes your heart twinge, the way he sounds so exasperated over the whole thing.

“I’m very real.” You remind him, poking gently at his arm. Eddie makes a small sound, a huff of laughter, though pained in the way it never actually leaves his mouth. “You okay, Eddie?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine.”

Eddie was either impossible to read, or showing his emotions on his sleeve, there was no in-between. But right now, you were struggling to decipher why he seemed so off—switching from foot to foot nervously, fingers pulling at the loose thread on his jacket absently, chewing softly at his bottom lip like he’s trying desperately to stop himself from talking.

Screw always staying on the straight and narrow, you were taking the damn leap. You reach out for the hand that was tugging at a flimsy piece thread, fingers wrapping loosely around his own. His gaze is soft, looking up at you ever so slightly. “Eddie, you can talk to me.”

“Huh.” It’s a quiet sound, but you watch that way his chest bounces at the action. He’s eerily silent, like he can’t find the words to talk—but you could do enough of that for the both of you.

“Okay, don’t talk to me.” It comes out wrong, condescending. You scramble for a moment, “Not—I mean, I want you to feel like you can talk to me, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.” It’s a gentle reminder that no matter what, you respected his boundaries.

I’m kind of obsessed with you—is what he wants to say. But he can’t. He can’t even form the words. Any words. He takes a long, deep breath to calm himself.

“Please don’t hate me for this.”

“Why would I—“ Oh.

It felt…too good, too right, too entirely fuckin’ real. You can’t even find it in you to pull back, inhaling shakily against Eddie’s mouth, parting just enough to give you the space you needed to let your brain catch up with the rest of your body.

“Still don’t hate you.” You whisper into the air between you both, lips still close enough that they graze against his with every movement.

“Good.” He sighs, reaching forward to press one last sweet, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a lot less scandalous than you anticipated—not that you ever imagined kissing Eddie Munson...but still, definitely better than any expectation you might’ve had.

“Eddie, I really have to work.” You say with nothing but regret, feeling like cutting this short was a lousy attempt at escaping the situation, which was so far from what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t even process what was happening, not fully, at least. “We can talk later, if you want.”

“Uh, sure.” Eddie still sounds defeated, backing away slowly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, really. There was no way you would immediately fall head over heels, prepared with some sort of epic love confession. Still, he was disappointed with himself for not being able to express things differently.

You sigh, trying to find some way to reassure the poor boy standing before you. “We can shelf this,” You thought it was kinda cheesy, he did too. His smile is enough to make you feel a little bit better about cutting him off so quickly, “and you can call this number when you feel like talking to me.”

Reaching for the pen sitting on the clipboard on the table beside you, you scribble down a fury of numbers on a line of paper and shove it into his palm. You couldn’t do mixed signals, friends or not—if Eddie had something he wanted to say, you needed to hear it, he needed to hear himself say it. You needed it to be real.

“I’ll wait.”

As long as it would take.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A day passes, then two, three—nearly a week and Eddie still hasn’t bothered to call you, no matter how much time you spent sitting by the landline all evening, going so far as to study and eat dinner within arms reach of the phone, wondering why he still hadn’t called.

Maybe he had changed his mind, and that was fine, but it was still a kick in the ass—a reminder that you couldn’t let silly little crushes distract you like this. Eddie even avoided you in the hallway more often, taking a left toward his mandatory PE class, rather than taking the long way around to have a conversation with you. You felt ashamed, embarrassed that you had even allowed him to kiss you, it made you feel vulnerable.

After a week of silence and too many eerily quiet shifts at Family Video, enough is enough. And as luck would have it, you find him on a Friday night, digging through a discount bin at your dad’s record store—which, you should have known. But what was more astonishing, was how long he had managed to avoid you, here, of all places.

“We’re closing in ten, folks!” Your dad’s voice bellows through the place, warning the very few stragglers left that if they weren’t out within that time, it would be an issue. “Hiya, sweetheart.”

Eddie whips around at the speed of light, eyes landing on you immediately. You can’t help but look smug, arms crossed tightly over your chest. He tries to compose himself, turning back to the bin and continuing to browse through.

What an asshole, you think.

“Hey.” It’s simple, short, an easy way to start a conversation.

“Hi.” His voice doesn’t waver, but he sure as hell doesn’t look at you.

“If you’re not going to say anything, I will.” He’d done enough tiptoeing the past week, you just wanted an explanation.

He sighs, looking up at you slowly. “I know. I’m a dick for ignoring you.” He wasn’t wrong, you definitely felt it was a dick move that way he handled things. But, you hated holding grudges, especially against someone like Eddie, who you never hated to begin with.

“I get it, if you didn’t want to talk about what happened—it’s fine, but I still like talking to you, Eddie. You wouldn’t even look at me during lunch or any time I passed you in the halls—and don’t forget how late you are on returning that copy of ‘A New Hope’.” You point a feebly accusing finger in his direction, poking gently at his chest.

“I did.” He admits, “I gave it to Harrington and he handled it for me.”

Brows furrowed, your gaze ices over. “You went through me—to Steve?!” Now that, that stung. “You couldn’t even return a rental because I scared you off that much?”

“You didn’t scare me!”

You both freeze, not entirely sure where the outburst stunned from, luckily enough the store had emptied already. Still, that left a very clueless father of yours to watch the whole conversation unravel.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” He says, but it’s mostly directed at you. He slips the store keys into your hand. “Lock up and don’t stay out too late.”

You’ve never been more thankful for having such relaxed parents.

“You didn’t scare me.” Eddie repeats himself, more relaxed but still tense around the edges.

“Then why are you avoiding me?” You push. “Was kidding me really that horrible?”

“No—god, no. I have—I don’t really,” He takes a breath, hand steady out in front of himself between the space you two held, “I’ve never talk to people that I like—everyone thinks I’m this freak that worships that devil when all I really do is—“

“Play D&D with underclassmen and listen to metal rock at ungodly volumes from the inside of your van?” You ask, seemingly shutting him up. “Eddie, I know—the only people that believe that shit are the ones that can’t even look at themselves in the mirror and face who they are.”

You pull him toward the seating nook near the front of the store, forcing him down on the old leather couch shoved against the wall, allowing him the time he needs before he speaks again. You didn’t glance over his admission at liking you, but it was so painfully obvious that bringing it up again might do more harm than good, teasing him was the last thing you wanted to do. It was better to let him find the words he needed to express how he felt, that’s what you’d been waiting for—nearly a week now.

“I kissed you and it screwed everything up. I was so caught up in this idea of what I thought you were that when I realized who you actually were—I didn’t know how to respond, so I kissed you.”

“I do have interests, Eddie. I’m not some robot. They may not be what you expected, but the person I am at school, that’s not me. It’s what I want people to see—outside of school, I don’t have to force that image that I throw on. It’s just me.” You kept the two things on different sides of the universe, not that you weren’t ashamed of the fake act you put on around everyone, but it was the least complicated thing that somehow made sense in your mind.

You continue talking, Eddie forced to do nothing but listen. “I like Kate Bush and Journey—fuckin’ Metallica. My dad taught me how to play D&D when I was twelve for fucks sake. I love nerdy shit and maybe I’m ashamed to tell people that, but I’m sure as hell not afraid to like it.”

Eddie could’ve sworn his brain short-circuited at your admission, not that it was something groundbreaking, but it was something he had failed to notice on his own, how easily he overlooked you and believed in the show you put on for everyone else.

“I always thought you looked at me as some weird freak that annoyed you all the time.” He laughs quietly, fingers rubbing against the side of his rings absently.

“Annoyed me, yes.” You giggle softly, “Looked at you like you were some weird freak? Never. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Well, now I just feel like an asshole.” Eddie admits, smirking ever so slightly. “I should’ve noticed.”

“That was the whole point, Eddie.” You tell him, thumping his forehead gently. He gasps, rubbing the spot dramatically, as if you actually did any damage. “You think I didn’t know what you were doing these past few months? Visiting me at work, purposely saving the seat behind me in class just so you could bother me for answers—you could’ve just talked to me, Eddie. The idea that you think that I think I’m too good for you—it hurts.”

“Everything is fucked up now.” He says, it being the only conclusion he could come to. There was no rectifying what he had ruined, not in his mind.

“It’s not,” you remind him, slowly standing from your seat to pull from the stack of records by the record player, the beginnings of some random pop-ish song you’ve never heard of filling the room, “and since you want to be so self-deprecating, I’m going to make you sit through this god awful song until you realize that not only do I not hate you—I would let you kiss me again, and again, and ag—“

Eddie grips your head firmly, hand cradling the back of your head, fingers all wound up in your hair. He’s got his mouth on you, this time completely unashamed, all him and no impulse. It’s a little sloppy, the way his mouth meets yours. You weren’t ready for it, but to say that your mouth wasn’t a perfect fit against his own, that was a blatant lie. You two fit together well, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He smells like weed and pine and nature, it’s your favorite smell in the world now.

“And again, and again.” Eddie mocks against your lips when you two finally come up for air. He couldn’t tell you where the sudden act of boldness came from, his body working purely on feeling and adrenaline.

“We gotta stop doing this.” You say, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“Kissing? Because I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to—“

“No, turning this record shop into our sacred make out spot.”

Eddie snorts at that, pulling back even more, head thrown back in a small fit of laughter. “I wouldn’t call that making out, would you?”

“You know what I mean.” You shove him lightly, nearly pushing him off you. But, he doesn’t let go.

Silence falls over you both, neither of you finding the words to break it. It didn’t feel wrong, crossing this line. Eddie wasn’t some forbidden fruit you couldn’t have a taste of—though he couldn’t say the same for you, but there were definitely some things that needed to be worked through.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” You tell him sternly and outright, “not yet. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to let you kiss me if you want to.”

“You’re not afraid of what people will say?” It’s the first genuine question that you can immediately answer, not an inkling of doubt behind it.

“I don’t give a shit what people think about who I associate myself with.” You reply honestly, eyes conveying an openness you only reserved for the people closest to you.

“Won’t it tank your reputation?” He laughs, fingers coming up to play with a stray piece of hair framing your face. “Can’t stay popular when you have a freak like me following you around.”

“Doubtful.” The students of Hawkins were so desperate for leadership, they would follow you without question. It was a gross thing to think about, but some people couldn’t be bothered to think for themselves and would rather have other people do it for them. “I think I scare a lot of people.”

Eddie nods, almost like he can relate. “You can be a little terrifying.”

“Good.” You say proudly, finally managing to separate yourself from Eddie, even if you really didn’t want to.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He kisses you that following Monday, square on the mouth, in front of not only his entire group of friends from Hellfire, but the entire senior class, including a few other underclassmen that lingered in the hallway for far too long. It’s puzzling at first, you’re confused, but you manage to fix your face quickly, smiling up at the boy standing in front of you.

“You really like drawing a crowd, Munson.” You tease, voice hushed so only he could hear.

“It’s a talent.” He remarks, gesturing wildly with his face, fingers pointed up to mimic devil horns, tongue stuck out for extra flair.

He was unapologetically himself and it was refreshing. You didn’t realize how hard everyone was staring until he’s left your side, and maybe you should feel ashamed, but the moment you attempt to lock eyes with any of them, they’re averting their eyes at the speed of light. Good—mind your damn business, you think.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He still pesters you at Family Video every other day, but not nearly as much as before. Fortunately for Steve, he was receiving most of the attention now—and even if he would never admit it, he was warming up to Eddie.

“He asked if I could sell him some weed.” Eddie tells you one day, unprovoked and out of the blue. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head in surprise.

“You know what, I don’t even wanna know.” You tell him, hands up in defense. “Just know, Steve has the tolerance of a mouse—beer, weed, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh what, and little miss perfect’s never smoked a joint before?”

“Never.” You assure him. You weren’t one to judge, to each their own, but you never found any interest in actually trying it.

“And somehow you’ve got a crush on the one dude who smokes weed on a daily basis.” Eddie teases, finger jabbing your cheek softly. You can’t help but smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first time Eddie invites you to his trailer is rather uneventful. You meet his uncle, briefly. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but he’s still pleasantly surprised to see his nephew talking to someone, no matter who they were.

You two end up eating silently, talking about random and obscure things that only made sense between the four walls you both existed in.

“Favorite D&D class—go.” Eddie shoots a finger gun your way, grape shoved halfway into your mouth.

“Easy, rogue.” Stealth & trickery, that one was built for you. “Your turn.”

“Bard.” He says after a careful moment of thinking. “I don’t think that really needs much explaining.” Eddie says, flashing the beautiful guitar that hung on his wall, his most prized possession. “Plus, I’m super fuckin’ charming.”

“That you are.” You whisper softly, leaning forward to pull him in for a kiss. It’s cut entirely too short by Eddie pulling away, shoving another bit of food into his own mouth.

“Eat first, kiss later.” He orders.

And it’s not against your own human nature when you only receive so much as a few kisses before you’re leaving that night, wondering if maybe you were pushing too hard.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

So, you dial things back. It was fine if Eddie was making an attempt at slowing things down on purpose—the problem was, you weren’t used to it. You blame that partially on the fact that you’ve never gotten involved in anything more than a quick hookup. It was a foreign concept.

But Eddie does seem to take notice that you’re trying to create more distance at his expense and that just won’t do. So he’ll slide his hand up the back of your shirt, over the curve of your ass, a gentle tug on your hair when he’s kissing the life out of you from the driver’s side of his van, parked in the makeshift driveway outside his trailer home.

But, it constantly leaves you wanting more. You want him to touch you everywhere, constantly thinking about how his hands would feel around your thighs, running up the plane of your breasts, around your neck—and maybe you can blame it on the late surge of teenage hormones running through your body at eighteen.

And when the words finally left your mouth a few weeks later, laid out underneath Eddie on his unmade bed, you weren’t really sure what to expect.

“Are you scared to have sex with me?” You ask, voice sounding entirely too small in this big room. “Did I do something wrong?”

He lifts his head from where it’s resting on your chest, “What?”

“Are you waiting until marriage? Because if you are—that’s fine, but I really didn’t see that coming from you—not that I’m judging, it’s a valid choice.” You spit out in one breath, trying to compensate for how shitty you felt after asking him that.

“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out at once.

“O-oh. Okay.” You say slowly, caught off-guard by the admission. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that—“

“I’ve made out with people before and done a few other things but,” He tells you, “I’ve just never..”

“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, sitting up in his bed to look at him clearly, “I feel like a total asshole now.”

“Believe me, I want to have sex with you.” He looks so damn earnest, his palm resting against your knee, thumb rubbing against the skin gently. “I just don’t want to disappoint—gotta live up to the reputation, you know?”

“You’ve never even come close?” You ask curiously. It seemed like a harmless enough question to ask.

“Yeah—a few times. I always cut things short, though. I’ve had people offer me sex and blowies in exchange for weed, but that just feels wrong on so many levels.”

You nod slowly, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not gonna push you or anything. It doesn’t have to be some big, monumental thing we have to tiptoe around. We can just…figure it out as we go.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The next couple months are easy, creeping up toward Christmas, impatiently awaiting a much needed break from school, work—even life. You wanted to lock yourself in your room and sleep for a week straight. Between your constant work shifts, covering Steve for dates because you’re way too nice of a friend, and still making sure to spend time with Eddie, you were worn out. Not that Eddie was a chore, but it felt like you couldn’t give him your full, undivided attention when your mind was constantly thinking of your schedule for the next day.

When you finally do manage to reward yourself with a few glorious days off, you spend them locked up in your room, just as you intended.

Tap. Tap. It was nearly eleven at night, who in the hell could possible be—

Eddie’s head pops into view, clearly struggling to keep himself upright. You scramble to the window, opening it up to pull him inside.

“Are you insane?” You ask, helping him step over the threshold without face planting on to the carpet. “My parents are asleep downstairs—if they find you up here this late, I’m dead. Dead, Eddie.”

“I’ll be quiet.” He smiles, fingers crossed over his heart in a way that told you he meant it.

“What did you want?” You ask, not really trying to sound like an asshole, but your exhaustion is making it seem that way.

“Wanted to see you.” He shrugs, plopping himself down on your bed. He’s holding his hands out too, hoping you would follow suit.

He nearly manhandles you over his lap, letting you rest against his thighs. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask, hands resting against his lower abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. “Is this a late night booty call?”

“A what—“ He looks genuinely confused, “nevermind.”

“Oh, so you just missed me?” You tease, hands crawling up the expanse of his chest, you reach forward to kiss teasingly against the bit of his chest that was exposed from his top, right above his tattoo. “That’s cute.”

“I had an idea.” Oh no, you think. It was either going to be something completely outlandish or—who the fuck were you kidding? This was Eddie. “Since you’ve been so stressed lately.”

“Yeah?” You reply eagerly, ready for any type of distraction to help take your mind off of everything.

“Let me go down on you.” And if there was a list of things that you never expected to hear Eddie Munson say, that was nearing the top.

“Eddie Munson.” You respond, sounding scandalized.

“Don’t tell me you’re turning down an orgasm.” He responds cockily, almost full of himself.

“I thought you said you-“

“I’m not that clueless, princess.” Well then. “Now, lay down.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Definitely not clueless. Not in the slightest of ways.

Eddie’s mouth his way down the inside of your thigh, biting and licking at your skin in a way that has you squirming desperately.

“No fingers.” He tells you.

You nod. At a loss of words for the first time in your life.

“Just my mouth.” He says around a particularly sensitive spot, sucking lightly. “That’s all I need.”

He sounds entirely too sure of himself.

“We can make a deal, if you’re that confident.” You challenge, head craning down to look at him from in between your legs. He gives you a look that signals for you to keep talking, not bothering to stop the desperate attack on your skin that was surely going to leave marks the next morning.

“You make me come—I’ll blow you.” You say breathlessly, squirming again as the heat from his breath hits your bare cunt. “Deal?”

“Fuck yeah.”

He starts gentle, easy, separating your folds with his tongue and teasing at your clit. You sigh, admiring the sight of Eddie’s head tucked between your legs, face buried into the apex of your thighs. It seemed like a bold statement at first, the idea of Eddie making you come with nothing but his mouth—but you realize your own feeble mistake. Eddie turned you on enough that he didn’t need to use fingers, you could come with just his mouth—hell, just the sight of him between your legs had your thighs clenching around his head, caging him in place.

The hand that isn’t resting against your stomach pulls against the inside of your thigh, forcing your legs open wider, and wider. He’s practically drinking you in now, switching between licking and sucking at your sensitive clit in intervals that had your body arching in pleasure and agony—agony at the fact that this couldn’t continue on forever.

“You’re such a liar.” You force out through clenched teeth, his chuckle is apparent as it vibrates against your cunt, sending you reeling.

“Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I can’t compensate in other areas.” And then he’s back to work.

“Oh, oh fuck.” You’re desperately trying to keep your voice down, the only solution being for you to cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the moans that Eddie was pulling out of you. “This is cruel.”

“You’re really wet.” He observes, pulling back to allow you both a breather, “It’s all over your sheets.”

“Shit happens—I’ll wash them later—just keep going, please.” You rush out, using your hands to physically direct him back to your cunt, his nose brushing up against your clit as his tongue dipped inside of you.

You were passed caring at this point, desperate for the orgasm that was building in your lower abdomen. You’ve got the sheets in a knuckle white grip, gasping at every lick and nudge he made against your sensitive and swollen clit, face burning with the heat of how close you were, flushed a deep red.

“Gonna come, Eddie.” You warn, which only encourages him further. And god, the mouth on him. He’s licking desperately at your cunt, your juices and his spit mixing together to create a glorious slippery mess that created the perfect amount of friction.

And he feels it coming, the way your fingers grip the hair at the base of his head, he reaches up to cover your mouth, you clasp your own hand over his—and finally, you let go.

“Christ.” You say on an exhale, dizzy from what had to be the single most hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. “Get the fuck up here, Eddie.”

“And just like that,” He snaps, “stress free.” His face is wet still, covered in you, and you can’t help but laugh. “What, something on my face?” You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt to wipe away the mess from his mouth.

“All good.” You assure him, patting his chest gently. It takes a while for you to finally gain your bearings, but eventually you do. “And like I said—a deal is a deal.” You turn to look at him, enjoying the way he’s spread out on your bed, smug and jovial. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

He nods, “With a gorgeous someone like you asking to suck my dick? Absolutely.”

Eddie sure had a way with words.

“Here, turn this way.” You tell him, tapping his thigh softly so he’d move.

“Why can’t I—“ You drop to your knees on the soft carpet of your floor, fitting perfectly between his legs. “Oh.”

You unbuckle his belt, fumbling a little with the loops, so you forgo trying to take the whole thing off and just focus on being able to unbutton his pants. He pushes them down, letting them pool around his ankles.

Eddie doesn't really know where to put his hands, first his thighs, then the sheets and back again. “Do I just—“

You place his hands on either side of him, wrapped around the edge of the mattress and—Jesus, was that more a turn on than having his head between your thighs, his rings shining prominently against the pale skin of his fingers.

“Just keep them there and flow with whatever works, Eddie. You tell me what feels good.” He nods softly.

He’s hard already, reeling off the high of going down on you, so instead of trying to tease him any longer—which you weren’t sure he could handle, you peel his underwear down, enough to where it drops on its own and you can finally admire his dick in full view, completely bare.

You didn’t realize you had your bottom lip pulled underneath your top row of teeth until Eddie was rubbing gently at your chin, staring down at you with gentle, loving eyes. It’s so sickeningly sweet that you want to burst into tears.

“No fingers?” You tease. “Just my mouth?”

“I think we can make an exception in this case.”

You waste no time in wrapping your hand around his shaft, Eddie swallowing audibly from above you. Still in one piece, that was good. You move slowly, a few long, languid strokes of his dick until you’re peering up at him asking, “Is this good?”

Contrary to whatever Eddie might be thinking, you’ve never actually had anyone’s anything in your mouth. Handjobs were easy, quick—but you’d never gone so far as to give a blowjob to any guy you’ve ever hooked up with. This was all new territory for you.

“Here.” Eddie has a firm grip around your hand, pushing you to squeeze a little tight, tug faster, enough to build a steady pace of both pressure and friction. “Shit—like that. That’s good.”

He sighs shakily, leaning more into the weight of his arm, praying to whatever god out there that it was enough to keep him upright.

You lean forward to lick at the tip carefully, he’s quiet and methodical, like he’s trying to focus on something. His eyes are shut right, hands now balled into fists.

Another lick this time, from the base of his dick to the tip before you’re swallowing him down, using your hands to follow what your mouth couldn’t. Unfortunately for you, gag reflexes were definitely still a thing and you weren’t going to force what wouldn’t fit—and there was a lot of Eddie that wasn’t going to fit. He was, without a doubt, bigger than any other person you’d been with—not so comical that it didn’t seem real, but it was more than enough.

“Fuck, this is gonna over way to quick.” He groans, “Slow-slow down.”

“Hands in my hair.” You tell him, guiding a hand toward the back of your head, he obeys easily, fingers twisted into the hair at the base of your neck. “Control the pace, I’ll follow.”

“You’re not real.” He breathes out in disbelief, rewarding him by swirling your tongue around the tip of his dick before your lips wrap around it, sucking lightly.

He moans louder than you initially expected, both of you pulling back in shock, your hand immediately darting toward his mouth.

“Don’t think I won’t shove something in your mouth if you want to keep that up.” You warned halfheartedly, but you were definitely more serious than playful.

“I can’t make any promises, sweetheart.” Well, you appreciated the honesty.

You suck him down again, as fully as possible, keeping a steady rhythm around his dick. He’s holding himself together better, but he’s still pretty noisy regardless. You reach aimlessly for something, anything, to shove in his mouth.

“Back pocket of my jeans,” He says, practically whining, “the—fuck, just grab it, you know what I’m talking about.”

You quickly yank at the black handkerchief in the pocket of his jeans, shoving it quickly into his mouth on the uptick of another groan, muffled perfectly by the fabric.

He bucks his hips on a particular downward motion of your mouth, the back of his dick hitting your throat and nearly causing you to gag, but you recover, bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm. Eddie can’t even focus on his own thoughts at this point, he sounds insufferable. He’s gone from upright to sprawled across your sheets, gasping underneath the confines of the cloth.

“Gonna come,” Eddie forces out, quickly unstuffing his mouth, patting your shoulder gently as a warning, “you gotta pull off.”

You do and just in time for Eddie to spill over his stomach, his shirt having thankfully ridden up enough in his constant squirming that it narrowly managed to miss it. He’s clearly forcing himself to keep quiet, feeling himself coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever received by another person. You try not to sit too long on the fact that no one has ever seen him the way you have, so blown out from an orgasm that you caused.

Eddie slowly pulls his underwear and jeans back over his hips, leaving them unbuttoned as he falls back on your bed, dragging you down with him.

“You really are the gift that keeps on giving.” He jokes, rubbing your back gently, hands finding their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, barely finger tipping past the point of your ass, playing absently with the hem of your underwear.

“And this gift needs some sleep.” You tell him.

And so what if you both ended up cuddled underneath the covers in your bedroom that night, neither of you bothering to ruin this tiny bit of bliss you had created. Eddie still managed to sneak out that morning without any evidence that he had ever been there.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Eddie can’t stop touching you since the night you two shared over the weekend, always finding any reason to have a hand on you—against your back, resting against the soft dip in your waist, or just dealing his arm around your shoulder in an effort to pull you closer.

“You sure you wanna try?” He asks, holding the joint in front of your face, waiting for you to grab it. “You really don’t have to.”

You wanted to, even if it was only this once. You had to live through the hype that everyone was talking about, even if you decided to never touch it after this moment, ever again.

“For the tenth time—yes.” You laugh, snatching the joint from his fingers and pulling it toward your lips. You remember what Eddie told you. Breathe in, not too deep, hold, then out through your nose.

But, you fuck up on the second step, taking in a little too much, lungs burning from the smoke you inhaled. You lean over, feeling like you’re going to cough yourself into a miserable death on the floor of Eddie’s trailer.

“We’ll work on it.” Eddie assures you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

It was the first and last time you ever touched a joint.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Christmas comes and goes, a flurry of family visits and gift giving to all of your friends, leading up to dinner at Eddie’s trailer the evening of the day after, enjoying a small dinner with himself and his uncle. There’s some small talk, but most of the dinner is spent with you watching the two of them debate over some band you aren’t even sure you’ve ever heard of.

“Thank you.” Eddie tells you when he’s finally parked in front of your house, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb, fingers curling around your palm. You squeeze his hand in return.

“It was nice.” You admit. “My family is really loud, so it was a lot more enjoyable than you’d think.”

He chuckles softly, not wanting to let go of your hand, and not really wanting to say goodbye, either. You check the driveway, reminding yourself that your parents had left for another party a few towns over, a family friend.

“Hey, why don’t you stay for a bit?” You suggest, nodding in the direction of your house. “My parents won’t be home until midnight, I’m guessing–so maybe I can finally give you a grand tour without my parents asking you a million questions.” And ask they would, which is exactly why he hadn’t officially met them yet. Plus, he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend in any sense of the word–so it didn’t feel right either way.

Eddie doesn’t even so much as hesitate, hopping out of his car to follow you to the front door. The house is a decent size–a few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, kitchen, all the normal things you would expect from a house in the suburbs.

You both collapse on your bed the moment you enter your room, both exhausted and full from the ridiculous amount of food you consumed over dinner.

Eddie finds out that you talk in your sleep that night–which should be considered singing, but your voice is so off-key that not even he can sugarcoat it. He doesn’t say anything, though. He listens to you jam out into the quiet ambiance of your room, ceiling fan buzzing from above.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Let’s have sex.” Eddie interjects bluntly, causing you to choke on the giant swig of water you had just attempted to swallow. It was New Years Eve and you both had planned to spend it together, even if you didn’t really have anything fun to do—spending time with Eddie was always eventful—case in point.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, “Okay.” You never bothered to push Eddie on the topic, letting him come to that decision when he felt like it. Plus, his courage has probably been boosted from all the orgasms he’s given you, not that you were complaining—Eddie gave amazing head.

It doesn’t take much more coaxing to get you into his bed, naked from the waist up, Eddie’s mouth focused on nothing but the soft, plush valley of your breasts. He squeezed the one that wasn’t occupied by his mouth gently, tongue swirling around the bud of your nipple.It felt good, amazing, but you were way too horny to focus on the feeling of Eddie's mouth against your tits for this long.

“This is probably a terrible time to bring this up—“ He begins, but you silence him, tearing his mouth away from your tender breast and up to your mouth.

“Whatever it is, it can wait.” You laugh softly. Eddie’s looking up at you, his hair a wild mess. He looks innocent and naive, with no idea what he was getting himself into. “Do you have condoms?”

Bareback was a hard no—no matter who it was. Although, the idea of tiny little Eddie’s running around was adorable, just not enough to sacrifice everything you learned in Sex Ed. He nods eagerly, reaching over you to grab a thin box from the top of his bedside table. He shakes it, box still unopened.

“How long have you had those?” You ask, almost certain you’d never seen any in his place before.

“A few weeks.” He shrugs, pulling one of the small tin foil squares out of the box and tossing it on the floor. “Wasn’t sure when I should bring it up, you know?”

Like you wouldn’t jump his bones the second he asked, regardless if it had been two days ago or two weeks. You had waited patiently for Eddie to come to the decision on his own, and that’s all you could do. It wasn’t something you two always tiptoed around, you didn’t treat it like he had some ailment that kept him from pleasing you otherwise, it was just one step you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“Have you been planning this, Munson?” You tease, fingers dragging down his chest slowly, stopping just at the edge of his belt, your fingers curling around it.

“You can’t prove anything.” He replies, shoving his face into the crook of your neck to bite teasingly at the skin there. You yelp, squirming in the way it sends shivers down your spine.

“Beautiful, charming, and chivalrous—what did I do to deserve you?” You ask, a smile gracing your face. “Not to mention how downright dirty that mouth is.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.” His voice low and teasing, coming up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and eager enthusiasm.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Part of you was glad that the shyness between you both was long gone, having seen each other in enough intimate ways that now—it was normal. It took a lot of the edge off for Eddie, who seemed more and more relaxed as the night drew on. You’d both forgone clothing very early on, relishing in the sight of being able to see Eddie completely bare—tattoo and toned muscle on full display.

He’s pretty insistent about going down on you despite how you insisted he didn’t have to, but it was Eddie—always wanting to give more than he took.

“Just like that.” You sigh softly, hips hovering over his mouth, your cunt making a mess all over his face. “Fuck—don’t stop.”

His tongue works quickly, rubbing over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit, his hands coming behind you to pull you further against his face. He’s practically groaning underneath you, hips bucking up into nothing—you’re ready to put him out of his misery, but the crashing feeling of your orgasm creeps up on you out of nowhere, cunt riding it out against his face, which he ravished greedily.

He’s very adamant about not having you return the favor. “There’s no way I’ll last through you doing that and being inside you without blowing my load, at least once. And truthfully, I’d like this to last a little longer than thirty seconds.”

He’s painfully honest and it’s adorable.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He sighs, brows furrowed slightly.

“You want me on top?” You ask softly, hovering over his bare thighs.

“Are you actually asking me that?” He laughs, a little dumbfounded. He’s right, stupid question.

You grab his hand, guiding it toward your sensitive pussy, allowing him to dip a single digit inside of you. He breathes in sharply, his fingers barely moving. He wasn’t even inside you and he already looked like he could fall apart.

Eddie notices the way your eyes fall shut, basking in the feeling of being filled up, even if it wasn’t by him—not really. He’s slow, precise, curling his finger ever so often until you’re rocking against his own hand, then he’s adding another. “More.” You say, he listens one obediently, squeezing another finger into you, working steadily inside of you now. The stretch felt amazing, but it was still lacking what you needed. You reach between you both, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, pulling gently.

He’s quiet, eyes closed. You pull again, rubbing your thumb over the tip, spreading the small amount of precome that had leaked out. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you.” Eddie moans, mouth hung open slightly.

You decide to finally put him out of his misery.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Eddie’s silent as he slips on the condom, his tongue sticking out past his lips from focusing too hard. “Okay, I think we’re good.” He says finally, looking up at you. He squeezes at the side of your waist, pulling you over him.

You guide him inside of you, sinking down into him slowly. It had been far too long since you had been with anyone, the stretch making you wince slightly—it didn’t help that Eddie was a lot larger than what you were typically used to.

Eddie lets out a plethora of soft, random noises—watching intently as your cunt swallows him before finally it can’t take anymore, now pressed fully against one another.

“Move. Just move.” He urges you, hands gripping your waist tightly, you being the only thing anchoring him to reality.

You do, slowly, rocking against him until he’s finally able to focus—“You okay?” You say softly, and the look he gives is something you will never be able to get out of your mind—bottom lip sucked between his teeth, eyes locked on the place where you were both joined together, before glancing up to look at you. He nods jerkily, “Wanna switch?” You ask, giving him the chance to control the pace.

“Please—I already feel like I’m gonna come quickly, but having you on top is just—“ He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

He flips you over easily, manhandling you against his sheets. Your hips rested high up onto his hips, his forearms barricading your head. He’s moving slowly, too slowly, a short thrust of his hips every couple seconds. Eddie wasn’t going to last long and you knew it.

“Hey, it’s fine.” You reassure him, “Stop thinking.”

“Okay,” He nods, moving his hips faster, “I’m not going to last long, I’m sorry.”

“Eddie,” You grab his chin, pulling attention toward your face, “stop apologizing and fuck me.”

And it’s all he needs to hear.

His mouth latches into the dip of your collarbone, sucking lightly, snapping his hips at a pace that had you moaning out in pleasure. “Feels so good, Eddie.” He bites at the skin of your shoulder and it really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should. “Again,” you encourage him, “do that again.”

His teeth trail against the skin of your neck, up under your chin, before suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth digging in gently. “Say my name.” He breathes against your open mouth.

“Eddie.” You sigh, voice squeaking on a particularly hard snap of his hips. He moans outwardly, loud and strangled. Eddie could feel himself falling apart.

“Fuck—I can’t. I’m gonna come.” He groans out, grunting at the feeling of you squeezing down against his dick.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, letting him bury his into your neck, his sounds muffled into the sheets.

Eddie’s loud when he comes, hands gripping your thighs so hard that you were definitely going to leave bruises, but you didn’t mind. “Fuck!” He shouts, riding himself through his orgasm before he’s collapsing on top of you. “Holy shit.”

“Well, that’s one way to ring in the New Year.” You comment, hand reaching to wipe that hair out of his face where it had been stuck with sweat. He huffs into your cheek, nose squished against your face. Eddie kisses your cheek, your nose, before capturing your mouth. He pulls out slowly, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash bin beside his bed before returning back to his original position on top of you,

“Inside of my girlfriend?” He asks, pulling back to look at you. The word slips out accidentally.

“Girlfriend?” You ask, eyebrow raised in question.

“Well, that’s what I was trying to ask you early—but someone was just too horny they couldn’t wait for me to ask. I guess I probably shouldn’t assume you would say yes but—“

“Ask me again.” You tell him, finger coming up to trace his bottom lip. He smiles widely, biting the finger in retaliation.

“Fine.” He kisses the side of your hand. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Hmm.” You start, “Well-“

“Oh, no way—“ You immediately clasp your hand over his mouth.

“Yes.” You tell him, eyes boring into his own. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #my writing #idk how to make short fics i'm sorry #1kfic #5kfic

7K notes · View notes

angel-of-the-moons · 6 months

Text

Mr and Mrs Knight

Steven Grant (Marc Spector + Jake Lockley) x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, body dysmorphia, smut, suit kink, glove kink, fingering, PiV sex, creampie, squirting, misuse of The Suit™ (and truncheons), cosplay, established relationship, fluff

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I am unashamed to admit that suits are fucking hot and the shit they do to me is what I imagine straight men feel when they see a VS model in lingerie. And Steven is hot. So is Marc. And Jake and Oscar in general you get the rest. Imagine the Mrs Knight suit looks something like this. (Also featuring the headcanons by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction for Jake's craftiness!)

Taglist: @mundivagantsoul @belle-oftheball34 @steven-grants-world @denile-xo @whatevenisagrapefruit @hagridnmegamind @sapphire-and-ruby

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

It had been a banger of a night. A fun Halloween bash at the museum, amazing costumes, great food. Donna even seemed to be in a decent mood. But of course that woman could have been faking it.

You and Steven decided to go with matching costumes. In a gross abuse of Steven, Marc, and Jake's status as Moon Knight, you'd convinced him to use his "Mr Knight" suit as his costume.

Jake helped you make yours to match. Finding the majority was easy enough at thrift stores (despite Marc's insistence that you should buy a new one), the mask was what was the pain.

That's where Jake's expertise came in. Sure his main skill was in knitting, but that didn't mean the man wasn't nuanced in other ways to make clothes. You couldn't count how many times Jake would stitch up the seams of your favorite jacket that you just refused to throw away, or how many times he'd hit you with that smug smile when you blubbered about how awesome he was for giving extra life into your jacket so you could wear it juuuust a bit longer.

Your mask turned out to be almost a perfect replica of his, complete with glowing lenses to match Steven.

You were nervous when you got dressed, looking in your floor-length mirror at your reflection.

Your hair was pinned back neatly to allow you to pull the mask on or off (because unlike Steven's, which was magically suited--pun intended--to be comfortable) without much problem, and you would still appear "flawless" as Steven put it.

But right now, you were having second thoughts. You weren't sure you liked how the skirt fit you. Or the blazer.

The waistband of the skirt squeezed your waist and the rolls of your tummy, the creases in the fabric seemingly emphasizing every imperfection you saw in yourself.

Your transparent white stockings were not helpful either, the bands squished the fat of your thighs in a way that made them look like muffins, even moreso than your tummy. They kept rolling down so much you had to buy garters to wear beneath your skirt just so they'd stay up...

You frowned at your reflection as the skirt rode up your legs, showing off the cute lace trim of the stockings and your squishy thighs; honestly if you weren't careful, or you bent over the skirt would bare your ass to the whole party.

You were tempted to go and grab that last minute shitty vampire costume you had stashed away, when Steven walked in, already dressed immaculately in that gorgeous white suit of his.

He adjusted the tie, not looking at you as he does so.

"Hey, luv, I'm fairly ready. I can help you with your makeup now, if..." His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth feels suddenly very dry at the sight of you all dressed up.

His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip, moistening it as he clears his throat.

"You look good."

"Oh.... Thanks." You mumble shyly, trying to pull the edges of the blazer down to cover the rolls poking out of your skirt a bit more.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, beautiful?" He said softly, moving up to you.

"I... I look like a marshmallow." You sigh hesitantly, your tone full of self-deprecation.

"Hey, now." Steven smiled sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist as you tucked your face into his lapel.

"You're the most gorgeous marshmallow on the planet if that's the case." He told you, kissing the top of your head.

He felt something press down on him, and he looked up at the mirror, getting a full view of your back, but he saw Marc's face staring back at him with a cringed expression.

(Dude, that was the shittiest compliment ever. What woman wants to hear her being compared to a marshmallow??) He hissed.

Steven was about to retort, before you started bubbling out on laughter at how silly his compliment was.

"That was so corny." You snicker.

Steven gave a smug smirk at Marc before looking down at you with a soft, lovesick smile.

"Yeah, well, you love my sense of humor, eh?" He winked.

"Yeah... I guess I do." You smile back.

"Now, then! Your makeup. Let's sit you down so I can work on it for you!"

Whenever you had your doubts about your appearance, Steven, Marc, or Jake would pipe in and alleviate your worries. Sometimes all three at once, though rapid switching would often cause problems for them (like migraines).

You kept your eyes closed as Steven carefully applied your highlighter to your cheekbones, the brush tickling your skin, his shaky breaths ghosting over your face.

He would mumble some curses when he messed up, but would correct his mistake.

When you had asked him where on earth he learned to contour and highlight he shyly admitted he watched half a dozen tutorials on YouTube to get it perfect for you.

You felt the coldness of the liquid eyeliner as he painted on the wings with the white liner, the silver and gold glitter further adding to your look.

"'Kay luv, open your eyes so I can apply your mascara." He murmured, looking down in your makeup kit for the said cosmetic.

Once he did, he pulled out the black tube and made sure there was no excess before he carefully combed the white creamy substance on your eyelashes, lightening them up to enhance the face he'd helped apply for you.

Once he was finished with both eyes, he leaned back and allowed you to blink, smiling that puppy dog smile of his in satisfaction at his handiwork before placing the mascara tube back in the kit.

He lifted his hand and shook the bottle of setting spray so you wouldn't accidentally sweat it off or wipe it off with something during the night (or god forbid it rub off on the inside of your mask).

"Close em again for me."

You couldn't help but smile at his level of gentleness and politeness.

You restrained from physically recoiling as the cold setting spray hit your skin and quickly dried.

"Now, do you want to put on lipstick now or when we get to the party?" He asked as he watched your sickeningly gorgeous lashes flutter open. All the white, silver, and hints of gold on your face enhanced your eyes and their color, the very depths of them stealing his breath away.

"We can do it now. I have liquid matte and regular lipstick." You reply, smiling once again.

"Which would you prefer?" Steven asked you.

"Whichever you think would look best."

He sucked in a breath that his lungs were suddenly starving for, and grabbed the liquid tube.

His hand gently cupped your chin as he brushed the satiny lipstick onto your lips, carefully lining them so it wasn't too much. He'd even dipped his finger in your cosmetic glitter and applied a very gentle amount.

"Gorgeous." He breathed.

"Aww..." You giggle, thankful for the glitter and makeup that hid your blush at his praise.

"Now then... Let's go, shall we?" He said, taking your hand to help you stand and slip in your white heels.

As the two of you left, Steven could hear Jake in the back of their headspace.

(Que hermosa... Be careful, hermanito. If she bends over, I just might take over for the rest of the night and have that ass for myself.)

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Mr and Mrs Knight. That's what you two went as for the party. You two even won the prize for best couples costume!

Sure it was just a gift card to some restaurant, but it was exhilarating to hear how people adored your matching outfits.

And you couldn't help but notice all night that Steven simply couldn't keep his hands off of you.

He would get like that sometimes; working himself up like that, but trying to be subtle. You knew it was only a matter of time before an awkward boner would be the cause for the two of you to leave early, so you excused yourself to the restroom under an excuse to check and see if your makeup needed retouching or if you could go the rest of the night without your mask.

But you got a little nervous when two women went into the lavatory after you, and you felt trapped within your stall. You simply couldn't stand the glances from other women you were getting all night. You were afraid these two women who were clucking at each other like hens were amongst the ones judging you.

And your fears were confirmed.

"I can't believe that such a handsome guy would pick a blimp to be his girlfriend." One of them scoffed as she applied a fresh layer of brick red lipstick. As if she didn't have enough on already.

You felt your heart sink further inside of you as the other joined in.

"I know, right? It's gotta be her tits, only thing I can imagine. Maybe her ass, too." The other laughed as she touched up the false blood on the corners of her mouth.

"Either that or she gives good enough head that he can overlook the fact that if she ever got on top she could crush him." The first one snickered.

Your hands knotted in the mask you held in your hands, threatening to tear the stitches Jake so lovingly sewed in for you to wear tonight. You bit the inside of your cheek harshly as the two gossiped further.

"Ugh, and the sad thing is, he's cute, for a bookworm who won't shut up." The second sighed.

"Ugh, I know... I can look past the blabbering if I can see what he's packing."

"Right? I wonder if he's as good with his mouth as he is with his stupid history facts." The first giggled.

You gritted your teeth. You couldn't take much more, you knew that. Insulting you, you could take and bottle up to deal with later, probably in the heat and privacy of your shower.

But talking about Steven like he's some kind of... sex toy? No. Hell no. If you were anything, you were insanely protective over your boys. Even bordering on possessive at times (of course the same was true for the boys about you).

You were done.

You slammed the stall door open and sort of enjoyed how startled they seemed when they saw you, their jaws dropping when it hit them that you heard everything.

You hurriedly wash your hands and slip your gloves back on, gripping your mask in your hand tight as you spare them a backwards glance before leaving the lavatory to find Steven.

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted to go home...

When you found him, his brows knitted upwards in concern at how tight-lipped and tense you were when you gripped his sleeve tight.

"Ey luv, what's wrong?" He murmured to you, leading you away from the crowd.

"I... I just want to go home." You say, the words those women said about your body weighing down on you, and the things they said about Steven burning hot in your gut. You weren't sure what to feel with this cocktail of emotions.

"Hey hey, okay we can leave." He says, kissing you on the forehead.

"Let's go."

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

The walk back to your flat was... Difficult. You could barely hold yourself together, suddenly hyper-aware of every roll and stretch mark on your body, even the slight double chin you had when you moved your head a certain way.

It wasn't until you were in the lift of your building that you finally broke down, your reflection staring back at you in the walls of the tiny space, crushing down on you with every imperfection you saw.

You couldn't keep in the bubbling sobs, or the fat tears that rolled down your cheeks and ruined the makeup Steven worked so hard to put on you.

He cradled you against him and cooed to you, saying sweet nothings and whispering nothing but praise for your looks, rubbing your back and kissing your hair.

In the various angles of the reflections, and the oppressive feeling weighing down on Steven... He could see and feel Marc and Jake.

Both looked pissed. Marc almost looked violent.

(If anybody talks like that about our muñeca again...) Jake trailed off.

(Oh trust me, I'll do the honors.) Marc growled.

The walk back into your flat felt horrid. You didn't just cry, you ugly-cried. You ruined your makeup, your hair fell out of the pins, and your skirt rode up more with every rushed step you took to hurry up and get in to get into some baggy clothes that didn't showcase your body.

You didn't feel cute or sexy anymore, you felt... ugly.

And Steven didn't like that one bit. Marc and Jake retreated, knowing that their anger at your injured self-opinion wouldn't help. This kind of situation was a Steven situation. He knew best how to be the sweetest person on the planet with you.

But right now he wasn't feeling particularly sweet. Sure, you were upset. But he couldn't help but get a good look at you as you walked ahead of him, the skirt riding up so much that he could just barely see the black and blue panties you wore beneath, your cheeks peeking out from the edges of the fabric, the garter straps clinging desperately to your stockings in effort to keep them up your gloriously plush thighs to keep them up.

He felt hot beneath the collar, his trousers getting uncomfortably tight as blood flowed straight to his cock.

The moment the door closed behind you, your hands, trembling and rushed, went to unbutton the blazer to get it off of you quicker, sniffles and tiny sobs sneaking out of you in the process.

However, your actions were halted when Steven placed his hands gently on your shoulders from behind, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your blazer, trying to soothe you.

"Love. You're gorgeous. Beautiful." He breathed, resting his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling the lingering scent of your shampoo.

"Steven, I'm... I'm not." You sniffle. "I'm fat, I can barely squeeze into a pair of jeans, I can't even shop at normal clothing stores for women. I get looks when I wear anything tight, and--and the things I hear people say about me--"

Your voice is broken off when you hiccup, feeling another sobbing fit try to get out of you.

"You don't understand what I'm sayin', luv." Steven smiled into your hair, ever patient.

"You're the prettiest girl in the world to us. You don't need a flat belly, or toned thighs to be pretty. You're funny, you're warm, and you're soft."

You made a shocked squeak when his hands snake around you, his gloved hands gripping at your belly and squeezing the plushness there through your clothes.

Your denial died in your throat when Steven rolled his hips into you, his hard cock throbbing as he rutted into the curve of your ass.

"You wouldn't be able to get to me like this if I didn't find you the most gorgeous woman on the planet. You wouldn't get Jake to say the filthy things he tells you in bed. You wouldn't have Marc snuggling you and resting his head in your lap or on your belly..."

His breathing got heavier as he rocked his hips into you further, a bitten-back whimper dying as he swallowed hard.

"S-Steven--"

"You've been driving me insane all night. This skirt looks so good on you." He says hotly in your ear, his fingers rolling up the hem of your skirt to reveal your panties and garters, making you gasp again.

"Those stockings huggin' you so tight. Been thinking about how badly I want to have my head between your legs, tonight." He growled.

Before you could say anything else, his gloved hand went up to your mouth and he tapped your lips, begging for entrance. Powerless to resist him, you let him press his fingers into your mouth, your tongue wetting them effectively before he pulled them away, and slipped down into your panties

He dragged one of his fingers up your puffy lips, parting your folds before he turned his attention onto your clit.

"S-S-Steven--" You whimper when he starts to circle the little nub.

"Hush, now. Let me show you, eh?" Steven said, biting at your earlobe softly.

You couldn't fight it, you couldn't fight the warm nectar that gushed out from you at his words and affirmations. All your mind could focus on was how wonderfully his fingers toyed with your cunt, deftly rolling, pushing, and pinching your clit in every way he knew that brought you the best pleasure, the fastest.

Your mind practically went blank when he curled two fingers into your weeping hole, the leather around his digits making them thicker than they normally would be, and providing a luxurious texture to your clit as he massaged you with his palm. His mouth trailed down your neck, breath hot on your skin as he bit down and sucked.

It wasn't like when Jake did this to you, no. Every one of them had different methods, different touches...

And Steven was particularly good at balancing out the sweet and the hard, paying more attention to your own pleasure than his. Sometimes, he would get so lost in pleasuring you he'd cum in his pants without even being touched.

This time was no different... in no time at all, he had you cumming so hard you almost fell to the floor, your slick gushing out and soaking the glove.

He smiled sweetly into the skin of your neck as he eased you forward, so you could press your palms on one of his desks, thighs quivering as you recollected yourself.

You barely saw through your haze clearly enough to catch Steven licking his glove clean through the reflection in the mirror on the desktop, his eyes closing in satisfaction at your savory taste.

You half expected him to drop to his knees and eat you out, next, but he doesn't. He just stands there for a moment, staring at you with a lidded and loving gaze, curls falling forward over his forehead as they always do.

That's when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head, and you pinch your legs together, and try to wiggle away from his gaze, to retreat to the safety of the bathroom and escape from his heated staring.

But in a flash, Steven is on you again, his hands gripping at your hips and that's when you feel the hot, heavy weight of his leaking cock slap against the barely clothed flesh of your ass as he rolls your skirt up completely over your hips.

"Steven!" You squeak.

"Hey, now... 'M not done showing you yet." His voice croaks out, heavy and barely coherent as the silk fabric of your panties brushes the head of his dick.

He groans, giving one more roll of his hips against your ass, smearing more precum on the fabric and skin, there; before he gripped the base, lining his cock up to your weeping hole.

"Fuck, luv. So soft. So wet f'me." He said, voice strained from barely contained arousal.

You squirmed, still feeling inadequate despite Steven's words and assurances.

God, you wanted him. You wanted him so badly. But right now you just felt so... so...

Your thoughts cut themselves off when he reached behind him, and from beneath his coat pulled out one of his engraved truncheons.

Placing it in front of you and gripping it with his other hand, pulling you tight against him as he thrust sharply into you, sheathing himself in one whole go, the tip of his cock slamming upwards so suddenly you felt his tip smush your cervix before he eased back.

"B-baby--" You whine, despite yourself.

"Not runnin' away, luv." Steven grunted into your hair as he thrust into you, his hands gripping tightly on the truncheon, using the bar to squeeze against your belly and hold you against him while he fucked you raw.

You couldn't fight the snapping of his hips or his raw need for you, right now. You couldn't hold back the moans and whimpers he wrenched out of you with each punctuation of his hips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck--" You hear him wheeze as his thrusts get more and more desperate.

There is a metallic clang as he tosses the truncheon to the floor in favor of gripping your thigh and lifting your leg so your knee was on the desktop.

You let Steven guide you so you're practically laying face down on the desk, his cock still spearing you open, pussy fluttering around him at the change in position.

You were taken by surprise when he grips your wrists next, ripping off his tie before slipping it over your hands, before tying them together at the curve of your back. Not tight enough to cut off circulation, but tight enough you couldn't squirm free.

He hesitated a moment. As nice as it would be to watch the soft flesh of your ass bounce and ripple while he fucked you... He didn't want to do it like this.

So, without further hesitation on his part, he gripped you, lifting you off your feet and rolling you so you were laying with your upper half on the desktop, pulling your legs up so your calves rested on his shoulders, all without dislodging from the warm tightness of your cunt.

You whimpered as he does this, and try to wriggle from his tie so you could cover your face, your running makeup and smeared lipstick.

Your pitiful, chubby face--

"Hey, hey..." His voice is soft and shaky as he leans in, cupping your cheek with one hand as your thighs squish against the both of you.

He caresses your soft cheek with a thumb and he smiles.

"Don't hide from me, sweetheart. You're gorgeous and I want to see you."

"Steven, I..." You whimper as your pussy clenches around his shaft, making it twitch inside of your tight, gummy walls.

His eyes rolled back with a groan.

"I'm not gonna stop until you see what I see." He grunts, dragging his cock out slowly until only the tip remains inside of you, the rest of your cunt squeezing desperately around nothing.

You're barely given a moment of respite before he snaps his hips into yours again, fucking you relentlessly and hitting your sweet spot over and over withe every arch of his hips.

Some of Marc's precision was bleeding into him as he aimed the tip of his cock like a weapon against your g-spot, pounding into you hard and fast, stoking the fire in your belly so hotly that you felt the embers scatter throughout your veins, every nerve in your body aflame in pleasure.

His left hand kneads the soft skin of your thigh, squishing and rolling the plush flesh beneath his gloved fingers before he slips his other hand between you, circling your clit mercilessly, making you shriek with every sharp thrust of his hips.

He loved how your body jiggled and bounced with every thrust; how your tits were bouncing so hard that they were spilling out of the top of your bra cups, your blazer falling completely open around you, now.

Despite still being fully clothed, you felt utterly naked beneath his gaze. Fresh tears burned in your eyes as he crammed his cock into you over and over again, his fingers working your second orgasm out of you faster and faster with every swipe of his fingers.

"It's okay, luv." Steven moaned, turning his head to plant a kiss on the inside of your knee, the leg he was squishing in his fingers.

"Cum for me, yeah? Show me how pretty you are." He pants, his thumb pressing hard into your clit.

That was all it took, the friction of his fingers, the thrusts of his hips, and each jab of his cock, plus his words? You were on cloud nine, brain fried and all sense gone as drool dribbled down your chin and you cum with a choked cry, babbling out his name over and over as your body clamps down, gushing around his cock, spraying out and soaking his hand and the front of his suit.

Steven, poor, loveable, goofy Steven could never hold out too long after you came, the squeezing and milking of your pussy was simply too much for him to bear.

Your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself spasm in an aftershock as you felt the hot ropes of his cum painting your walls a milky white, flooding your hungry cunt with everything he had to give you.

He drops your leg, wrapping them around his waist as he leans in and kisses you roughly, his tongue pushing past your lips to twine with yours and steal your recovered breaths.

"See... You're fucking beautiful. Wouldn't do this to us otherwise." He mumbles against your lips.

"Oh... God." You whimper.

Your mind ticks back into sanity and you realize the two of you are still clothed. Your outfit was of course mussed, but Steven was almost completely immaculate. The only thing he was missing of his suit was his tie, and the only sign of mess was the wet stain on his front, and his cock still sheathed inside of you.

"Hmm." He hummed softly, looking down at you with the softest gaze he could fix on you.

Steven gave you a sweet kiss to your forehead before he moved his mouth to the shell of your ear.

"And if you still don't believe me... Jake and Marc want to have a word with you."

#moon knight #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant

495 notes · View notes

libraford · 3 months

Text

Absolutely trivial, but I'm kind of sad that generative AI is how people are making memes now. Memes should be shitty doodles made by someone who might be talented otherwise but in a sleep deprived, slap-happy state needed to jot down a garbage sketch of a pun.

111 notes · View notes

inlovewithrain · 1 year

Text

steddie thoughts (part one!)

steddie thoughts part two: here

smut/nsfw version: here

Eddie rocks the Ferris Wheel stall and Steve freaks out and begs him to stop, eyes shut as he clings onto the seat.

Eddie is ALWAYS horny, and he's willing to have sex at any time, and easily flusters Steve by making crude comments and slaps Steve's ass on a daily basis.

Steve loves taking baths or showers with Eddie. It really calms him, brushing his hands through Eddie's wet hair, but Eddie, being the horndog he is, presses himself against Steve, huskily whispering in his ear.

Eddie is incredibly aware how much Steve loves his body, and is completely unashamed with being nude. He walks around the house naked and Steve blushes, jaw-dropped as he slips over his words to tell Eddie to put on clothes.

Steve wears short-shorts when Eddie's in the house, deciding that when Eddie's watching TV is the perfect time to bend over and pick something up from under the TV console.

Eddie sleeps on the couch when Steve and him get into fights because he can't stand being in the bed alone when Steve storms out to Robin's house.

While Steve is nuzzled against him or sleeping beside him, Eddie will take photos of it and then smile at them everyday at work.

Steve said I love you first, and they often get into 'fights' where they argue about who loves who more.

Eddie, when defending himself, can be really mean without realizing. This leads to Steve snapping and yelling back while crying. It ends with the two of them crying, Steve sobbing in his chest.

Steve wears Eddie's sweatshirts, that are too big on him, in all moments. He wears them to sleep, he wears them to go out, he wears them under his apron at work, and Eddie even fucks Steve in it a couple of times because he loves the thought of Steve wearing his clothes.

Eddie often shakes Steve awake to tell him a cool dream he had.

When Steve has nightmares, Eddie soothes him by pulling the blankets to their chins, hides Steve's sobbing face by smushing it against his bare chest and softly singing him asleep.

When Steve makes him try desserts for his bakery, Eddie exaggerates and moans loudly while trying them, declaring them the best thing ever.

Eddie often teases Steve for having a crush on him, and Steve just rolls his eyes before reminding him they're dating.

Eddie once threw a handful of flour at Steve, and he is no longer allowed to help bake.

Steve will be muttering along to the music when he's baking, and Eddie practically runs into the kitchen, grabs a wooden spoon as a fake mic, and begins singing along, pointing the wooden spoon at Steve for him to sing. Steve is a better singer, though its a close tie, but he's incredibly shy and refuses to sing most of the time.

Eddie holds Steve's hand or slide his arm around his waist in public.

Eddie loves to grab and slap Steve's ass, or just hold it in general, and Steve makes fun of him for it, but they both get flustered when Robin brings it up.

Steve often pulls Eddie towards him by putting his fingers through the belt loops, which Eddie almost always makes a crude comment about.

Eddie is incredibly protective over Steve, not letting him drive in the rain and makes Steve wait in the road as he shovels the driveway so Steve doesn't slip the car on snow. He'll bring him hot cocoa and visit him in the bakery and tend to all of Steve's burns.

Eddie, when he shows up late from work, will find Steve snuggled on his side of the bed, head shoved in his pillow that smells like him.

Steve falls asleep often and Eddie carries him to bed.

Steve sits in shotgun while Eddie drives.

Steve cuts Eddie's hair, and styles it almost every week.

Eddie often sends Steve encouraging messages throughout the day, and Steve shows up to the car shop with treats to give out to the mechanics, but saves the biggest slices for Eddie.

Eddie says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see Steve giggle and blush.

Steve has abandonment issues and thinks he's not good enough for Eddie and is afraid of losing him. Eddie often has to remind him that he loves him and he's not going anywhere.

Eddie also think he keeps messing up, but Steve tells him not to worry.

Steve randomly starts slow dancing with Eddie in the kitchen as the desserts bake.

Eddie holds Steve just above the ground and kisses him when the song is over.

Eddie kissed Steve on their first date, when Steve was 21, and he was 24. They were in a park on a picnic.

Eddie, much to Steve's chagrin, loves ordering fast food and takeout. He even orders it at two in the morning, but still ravages on the food Steve makes, making Steve happy.

In fact, Steve often wakes up Eddie in the middle of the night to go downstairs and get a glass of water because he's too afraid to go alone.

Eddie sings and writes songs for Steve, who blushes throughout the serenade.

Steve has to end up drive Eddie to the emergency room multiple times when a crazy stunt that Eddie pulled to impress Steve backfires.

Steve has to wear glasses and finds them super dorky and weird, but Eddie always smiles when he sees Steve in them and thinks he looks super cute.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #mechanic!eddie #baker!steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #domestic steddie #steve x eddie #steve loves eddie #eddie loves steve #this is adorable #headcannons #....and the cradle will rock!!

407 notes · View notes

00127am · 3 months

Text

NEW YEARS SPECIAL : happy 2024!

@ noisecomplaint ln yn isn't too fond of apartment living, between the occasional roaches and the person who keeps stealing her grocery deliveries. but especially because of her exceptionally loud next door neighbors whom she has decided: she cannot stand. it's not all bad though, certainly not when xiao dejun (the prettiest boy she's ever seen) lives in the building. well, it was a perk. until it's revealed that him and her next door neighbor are one in the same.