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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Overwhelmed

Fem!sensitive!reader v soft!dom!eddie

Overview: hyper sensitivity can be awful. But you begun to find out it's a blessing in disguise with Eddie Munson touching you.

AN: This was a drabble which turned into a long one, whoops! No use of Y/N, pure indulgence on my part due to my neuro divergent ass.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, smutty mc smutt smutt, NSFW (minors I will chase you with a broom) bit angsty, bit fluffy, female oral receiving, lap riding, also I'm english so bear with me and the American-isms!

7k words

Part 2 here Masterlist

Ever since you were a kid you were sensitive. Loud noises got to you. Not necessarily single noises. It was usually the painful overlay of sounds, mixing and mingling, overwhelming you until you couldn't think. Emotions could be problematic. It seemed that everything affected you more than others. Dizzying highs and earth shattering lows. If someone gave you negative feedback it wore down on you for far longer than it should. The pain was palpable, you could almost taste it.

Touch sensitivity affected you the most. It got to you on a daily basis. No one normal really picks up on how much other people touch you. It's constant; an arm brushing against yours in passing, fingers skimming against your own handing over coins or a pen, a hand at the small of your back when inching past you. Every touch from someone you didn't know or didn't like made your skin crawl. Even wearing a slightly itchy jumper could be hell.

It was even worse with someone you liked. An accidental swipe of a hand, a knee resting against yours, it could send lightning bolts up your spine. It was something you've always had to deal with, and managed to control quite well, until you became friends with Eddie Munson.

You befriended the little band of outcasts mostly out of convenience. Safety in numbers. One day a seat was free on their table in the cafeteria and you asked if you could sit there. The teenage boys gawked at you in silence, all except Eddie. He had stood up and flashed a debonair smile at you, bowing and offering you the seat. You took it gratefully, mumbled a thank you, and proceeded to eat your lunch with your head in your book.

Each day it seemed the same seat was free, next to Eddie. Each day you sat, and each day you opened up more and more to the lovable weirdos surrounding you. Little by little you had been indoctrinated into their gang and it pleased you more than you were prepared to admit. It escalated from just lunch, to being a key member of their D&D party, Hellfire, since they were in sore need of a cleric. You were slowly shedding your rough exterior, the walls you placed around yourself for protection. Not completely though, not yet. You never shared how you felt, how things got to you sometimes. How sensitive you were.

That only got more difficult when you realised just how much you liked Eddie. Suddenly that flash of a smile would make you weak at the knees. You'd see him running his hand through his hair, palm coming to rest on the back of his neck, and you could barely breathe. It's like your attraction to him sucked the air out of your lungs. That shoulder length messy hair, the slim but powerful build, that damn smile. It was all too much. The biggest problem of all though? Eddie was a toucher.

You were sure he didn't even realise, but it was continuous. It was like a compunction. It was innocent enough, but it affected you so much. Every time he grabbed you by the arm it made you shiver. If he slung his arm around your shoulder you were practically quivering. Worst of all was the hugs. He would pull you in for a crushing bear hug and it was like your legs turned to jelly.

Last night at the weekly Hellfire meeting it happened again. You were all celebrating your victory after a particularly drawn out battle. You usually held back a bit being the party's only healer but this time you'd had to step up and had managed to land the final blow. The boys had shouted and jumped up, celebrating the victory with vigor. Eddie had beamed at you and reached out, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Atta girl" he grinned at you. And what did you do? You fucking whimpered. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you froze, staring at his deep brown eyes. Eddie stared back, brow furrowed but smiling, like he was trying to figure something out. As soon as the moment happened, it was gone. He moved his hand and you had stared down into your lap, trying to will the blood from your face. It appeared no one else had noticed, too busy making noise to see what had occurred. Eddie had tried to touch your arm again at the end of the session but you had grabbed your bag and high tailed it out of there, much to the confusion of the rest of the party.

Today you were heading into the cafeteria, nearly dreading it. Why had he stroked your face? What the hell was that about? Was that just Eddie being Eddie? He was always so touchy feely. You tried to shrug it off, took a deep breath and headed to your usual seat.

Eddie beamed at your approach. You flashed a tight lipped smile back and perched on the bench, eyes darting around the rest of the group. Dustin was mid sentence, clearly berating Mike about some video game.

"Seriously, you take the enchanted sword and then move through the forest, defeat the goblins and you're practically at the tower. It's not hard, a five year old could do it!" He gestures emphatically. Mike shakes his head.

You pipe up "Dustin, seriously. Tone."

"What, what did I say?" He shrugs at you.

"Not what you said it's the way you said it." Mike adds.

"I know what tone means moron!"

You ignore the rest of the argument and look over to Eddie. He's not paying the slightest bit of attention to the pair. His eyes are trained solely on you. He doesnt shy away when you catch him staring, if anything it seems to spur him on. Theres a glint in his eye that you aren't used to seeing. You cough and look away.

At the end of the lunch period you move to get up and go to class, but Eddie's hand on your wrist stops you. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your pulse point sends waves throughout your body. You drag your eyes to meet his.

"Everything OK? You seem a bit, off." His words seem genuine, but theres that grin again. You feel like he knows, he must do, and every move is to torture you.

"Um... I'm okay Eddie, it's just all a bit, much." You struggle out, trying to ignore the way his fingers lingered on your wrist.

He finally gets go, frowning.

"I just wanted to check, thought you were mad at me yesterday or something."

"No no no, opposite of mad! I just get, er overwhelmed is all." You babble at him.

"Oh okay, still not sure I get it but glad you're not mad at me." He stops and looks down, avoiding your eyes for a moment. "You wanna join me and Jeff and Gareth on Friday? We're gonna pile round Jeffs, watch a movie?" He looks up at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, those big brown eyes impossible to say no to.

"...sure Eddie." At that he beams at you and strokes your arm. Your breath hitches, you don't know if he notices.

"Cool, we're meeting at 8. See you sweetheart." And he leaves. You stand there dazed for a second. Sweetheart. That was new. Maybe Eddie does like you. Smiling, you head to your next lesson.

***********************

When Friday rolls around you're a trembling ball of nerves. What if you had misread? What if he was just being nice?

You dress casually; a pair of black jeans, a black tank top and sneakers. Not anything special, but the top was lower cut than the usual plain coloured t shirts you wore at school. You threw on a red flannel shirt leaving it unbuttoned, just in case it was chilly at Jeff's house, and walked your way over there since it was only a couple of blocks away. You had come prepared with snacks. What teenage boy doesn't love food? You had an enormous bag of popcorn and a Tupperware full of homemade cookies. The cookies were probably a bit much but you had made them simply for something to do with all your nervous energy and it seemed a shame to waste them.

Walking up Jeff's driveway you check the time. 20:08. Not too late, you didn't want to be rude, but you didn't want to be the first there. Ringing the bell, you heard footsteps running to the door. Jeff answers, swinging the door wide, and waves at you to come in.

"Stairs just to the left, everyone's in the basement." He shouts over his shoulder, turning to the kitchen to get drinks. You make your way downstairs. It's slightly dark, but cozy. Theres a very old green loveseat with a coffee table in front of it, strewn with snacks, beer bottles and an ashtray. In front of that is a fairly new TV and VCR. Gareth is taking over half of the couch. To one side of the room there's a huge purple beanbag. Eddie is lounging in it.

"Hey sweetheart." He grins and waves a hand at you. Gareth greets you and you move to put your snacks on the table.

"Hey, cookies, you can come again!" You hear Jeff behind you. You giggle at that. He passes you a beer.

"No worries I had some time to kill you know." Before you can sit on the sofa Jeff collapses onto it ungracefully, handing beers to Gareth and Eddie.

Faltering for a second, you look around the room for another chair.

"Plenty of room on this if you dont mind sharing? I don't bite!" Eddie looks at you, grinning. Shit.

"Not worried about your mouth, I'm worried about your hands." You quip at him. Jeff and Gareth laugh, and Jeff starts putting the movie in the VCR, some slasher flick you hadn't seen.

"Hey, young lady, I'm a perfect gentlemen." Eddie puts his hands in the air as if surrendering, and winks at you.

No use arguing the point. As you are making your way over, he shuffles up. You sit down carefully, but it doesnt seem to matter how you sit, you roll right into Eddie. You were pushed right up against him, your side flush with his. He lowers his arms and drapes one over your shoulder. You sit, legs squeezed together, picking at the label on your beer bottle, trying hard not to think about Eddie's warmth seeping into you. Why was he so warm?

The cookies were a hit, as was the popcorn. About halfway through the movie Jeff gets up to get everyone another beer. You take that as an opportunity to take your shirt off. Eddie was like a furnace and you needed some sort of relief. Sitting back down you nearly sit on top of him, the back of your shoulder flush to his chest.

"Sorry Eddie I'll move-"

"No problem princess this is comfier." And he rests his chin on the bare skin on your shoulder. The arm that was around you now falls to your waist. The feeling was intense. You could feel his heart beating, or at least you thought you could. Maybe it was just your own. The heat emanating from him and the touch of his skin on yours was dizzying. You try and keep your breathing steady.

Jeff returns and hands out the beers and you take yours gratefully, it's something to distract you from the feeling building up between your thighs.

Eddie sips his beer and settles his chin back on your shoulder, watching the movie. You're paying no attention, it was difficult to think when you were surrounded by Eddie.

"Sorry sweetheart can I just-" Eddie says, startling you out of your revelry. He reaches up and strokes your neck, moving some stray hairs of yours that were sticking to your neck and were presumably in his face. The touch is so delicate but it thrums through you. It feels like he's played a chord on your neck and your body has amplified the feeling, sending a shiver all over your skin.

His hand drops back down to your waist and his fingers find a sliver of bare skin between your jeans and your top. Just the feel of his rough fingertips on your exposed skin, after he had given you goosebumps so easily pushed you over the edge. Before you could stop it, a breathy moan escaped your throat. It wasn't particularly loud, but it didnt need to be. It didn't look like Jeff or Gareth heard, but there was no way Eddie didn't. He turned his head towards you so you could feel his breath on your neck which was definitely not helping.

You didn't need to look at him to know he heard. You could practically hear the smirk on his face when he whispered "sorry sweetheart, am I overwhelming you?" Fuckfuckfuck. You could hear your own heart beating profusely. Squeezing your thighs together, you manage to respond.

"No-no, I'm okay," an octave higher than you meant to.

"If it's an issue sweetheart I can sit on the floor-"

"No!" Too loud. Far too loud. Where did that come from? Jeff and Gareth glance over at the sudden noise.

Eddie's grin widens. "Just making sure you're comfy." Jeff and Gareth turn their attention back to the movie, having a discussion about where they recognise the leading actress from.

You sit still, trying not to breathe too loud, alternating between sipping your beer and picking off the label. Eddie moves his head from your shoulder much to your relief, but his hand stays at your waist, gently caressing the exposed skin.

After the movie you hang around for a bit chatting, then make your excuses to get up and leave.

"Hey, wait sweetheart, need a ride?" Eddie stands up.

"I live like two blocks away, it's fine." You turn to the door and start walking upstairs with Eddie at your heels.

"Then I can walk you back. No big deal."

"I'm fine, seriously. I'm a big girl. Tie my own shoes and everything." You smile at him.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" He blurts out suddenly.

You blink at him, surprised. "Er, maybe?"

"Look, I'll pick you up, 7 o clock, we can come to mine, chill out, maybe watch a movie?"

"Sure Eddie that sounds nice."

He moves towards you, arms outstretched for a hug. Complying, you soften at his touch. It's gentle, much gentler than the bone crunching hugs you are used to from him. One hand strokes your back softly. Before you pull away, Eddie's breath is in your ear.

"Maybe if you're up for it, I can try and get you to make that noise again." He whispers smugly.

You pull away, mouth gaping whilst he stares at you, smirk on his lip, head tilted at you.

"I... erm, maybe" you stutter out and head out of the house before you make more of a fool of yourself.

***********************

Saturday evening finally crawled around. You were excited but were trying to push down the feeling. You didn't want to come across too eager, it was a problem that happened all too often with you.

A bundle of clothes in various states were spread out before you; you were trying to pick something to wear. You decided on a pleated skirt, not too short, and a crop top. Checking yourself out in the mirror you thought you looked hot, but then again, maybe it was too needy? You shrugged your flannel shirt on to try and calm it down a bit, doing up a couple of buttons. Slinging on your sneakers you looked at the time. 18:46.

Downstairs you lay on the couch, feet dangling off the edge, waiting for a knock at the door. The house was quiet, your parents had gone out a while ago for a weekend away. Trying to calm yourself, you make a mental list of all the objects in the living room. Its helps to centre you, until theres a loud knock at the door.

Opening it you see Eddie's huge grin. He's wearing his usual attire; Hellfire t shirt, jeans and leather jacket.

"Jesus Christ you look hot" Eddie says before he can stop himself.

"Thank you" you blush.

"Parents around?"

"No they're away all weekend." You say, grabbing a jacket and locking the door behind you.

"Thank fuck let's go." You giggle as he grabs your hand and you let him lead you to his van.

Eddie starts to drive as Dio blares through the speaker, and you surprise Eddie by nodding along.

"Oh, you like this stuff sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I mean nothing too heavy, but this is great." You grin.

Eddie returns the smile out the side of his mouth. Soon enough he's turning into the entrance to the trailer park he calls home.

Getting out of the van he runs around to the passenger side and opens the door for you with a low bow. You blush and take his hand as he leads you to the door.

"Now, don't get your hopes up, I know it's pretty impressive from the outside but..." he opens the door and let's you go in first.

You take in the surroundings. It's a bit cramped, but homely. There's a sofa and tv, and a small kitchen area. Hats adorn the wall, you assume his uncles. It seems relatively clean, just cluttered. There's something about it that feels welcoming. You sigh, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Eddie seems pleased that you haven't run a mile after seeing the place.

"Wheres your room?" You look up at him.

"Steady on sweetheart you just got here" he winks at you.

You hit him playfully on the chest "shut up Eddie."

He gestures to you to take a seat on the couch and you take it gratefully.

"So, what do you want to watch? I rented a few, wasn't sure what you were into."

He gestured to the small pile of videos on the side table. Glancing over the selection you pick out a movie and hand it to Eddie.

"Nightmare on Elm Street? Didn't peg you for a slasher flick girl." He put the film in the VCR.

"Yeah well I've not actually seen it yet." You admit.

"Really? Well buckle up buttercup! You wanna beer? Or a smoke?"

"Is your uncle-"

"-at work. Dont worry." He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Your breath hitched in your throat. 'Lemme grab my tin."

He returns, battered lunch box in hand, and sits on the floor to roll whilst you start watching the film. It's amazing how comfortable you feel around him. Usually you were on edge being at someone else's house, but Eddie made you feel like you belonged there. You kicked off your shoes and curled your feet up on the sofa.

Eddie joins you. Lighting the joint he takes a couple of tokes then hands it to you. You pass it back and forth for a bit until you start to feel an effect. Giving the last of the joint back to him you say "finish it, that's more than enough for me." You smile at him lazily, head feeling slightly foggy.

"Oh, have I got you stoned sweetheart?" He looks at you, eyes full of mischief.

"Maybe, like this much" you say, holding your thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

"Hmm" he says frowning "not buying it. You want a soda, or some water?" You shake your head. He gets up anyway and gets you a glass of water. Taking it you appease him by drinking a few sips. He flops down again and puts his arm around you.

Settling into watching the movie you start to enjoy it, your high mellowing you a little. It's ridiculous but fun, and some of the special effects impress you. The boy on the screen is attacked unexpectedly and it makes you flinch bodily. Eddie sees this and pulls you closer to him, his hand stroking the top of your arm. Eddie starts explaining how they did the blood on the ceiling effect, waving his hand for emphasis. When he stops his hand comes to rest on your knee. You can't help it, you twitch at the feeling, it's like lightning up your leg.

"You okay sweetheart?" Eddie's face is frowning down at you.

"Yeah sure it's nothing."

Eddie's not buying it. He pauses the movie and looks at you.

"Something's going on princess. And it's either good or bad. Or both, I can't tell. Can you let me know? Did I do something wrong?" Eddie looks at you with those puppy dog eyes of his and its almost heartbreaking.

"No Eddie, you're perfect. I like you. It's just... I'm really, um, sensitive. Loud noises and stuff get to me, emotion wise I kinda run hot. Things affect me like, a lot. And I'm really, really touch sensitive." You see some understanding dawn on his face.

"Ah, right, okay, so is that good sensitive, or bad sensitive?"

"It depends. I mean if it's someone gross it feels horrible brushing past them. If it's someone I like, and I'm in a good mood, it's, well it's, hmm... overwhelming." You know he knows what you're trying to say, you dont want to have to say it out loud.

Eddie smirks at you, eyes like the devil himself.

"So, if I do this..." he says, fingertips tracing circles on your knee. Your breath catches in your throat. "It's nice." You manage.

"Hmm" his hand moves higher, onto the inside of your thigh, just under the hem on your skirt, with feather light touches. "And this?" Dark eyes stare down at you. A small moan escapes your lips. "Jesus Eddie..."

Eddie let's out a dark chuckle. He moves his hand off of your leg and you find yourself almost trying to follow the contact. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, guiding your head to turn and face him.

"What about this?" He says, eyes darting to your lips and back again, looking for confirmation. You close the gap and press your lips against his.

You've kissed before, messy, sloppy things, but never like this. His kiss is fire, igniting through you. The press of his lips against yours firm and warm. His tongue tentatively reaches out and you submit to him, allowing him to explore your mouth. You reply in kind, using your tongue to swipe against his, moving your hand to weave into his hair. He snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He draws a deep moan from your mouth, the pure pleasure of the moment taking over you. You can feel his mouth turn at the corners, smiling into you.

He breaks the kiss first, panting slightly. "Was that okay?" He says, hand remaining on your jaw, thumb gently swiping your chin.

You want to say something sarcastic, or flirty, or, well anything. All that comes from your mouth is a half broken whine. Face flushed pink and breath well and truly taken.

"That bad huh?" He chuckles and drops his hand.

"Wow- I mean, Jesus- it's not usually that, er-, intense. Fuck." You continue to try and catch your breath.

"Gonna take that as a sign that maybe you like me, as much as I like you?" Its not a question, but the head tilt and the look from him make it one.

"Maybe. I mean, I've liked you for a while Eddie."

"I've liked you since you sat with us at lunch." He says to you, eyes sparkling, looking a little sheepish. "Why do you think I saved you a seat every day?"

"Seriously? Why didn't you say anything?" You take his hand in yours, fiddling with his rings.

"You seemed like, really shy. Didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

You smile at him softly. "Not shy, just... sensitive. I've had a lot of shit in the past from people, saying that I come across too keen, so I kinda dial it back. Plus I don't exactly want to invite people touching me, you know."

"Except me?" He says smugly.

"Except you." You nod.

He entwines his fingers with yours, looking down for a moment. "You shouldn't care what people think you know." He looks back at you "don't make yourself less for anyone."

Your eyes well up instantly at that. Wiping a stray tear from your eye you respond, "sorry, no ones ever said that before." You smile weakly.

He presses a soft peck to your lips. "Wanna finish the movie?"

"Okay"

Eddie presses play and this time you lean into his arms, pulling his arm around your shoulders and holding his hand. You hear a soft chuckle from him. His other hand comes to rest on your knee, tracing absent minded circles. You bask in the feeling of his warm body pressed against you for a moment.

After a few minutes it's just too much.

"Jesus Eddie why are you so warm?"

"I don't know, you must bring it out in me princess."

You giggle and lean forward, taking off your shirt, and snuggle back next to him. Eddie's eyes are no longer on the movie. He's looking at you and your exposed midriff. His hand tentatively moves from your knee to your stomach. Before he touches you he whispers "this okay?"

You turn your head to him to say yes, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and keep watching the movie.

Eddie's fingers find your flesh, stroking so softly it sends shivers over you. You feel your skin break out in goosebumps. His fingertips dance over you with such care. He flattens his hand and strokes it across your abdomen, the tip of his thumb just brushing the underside of your breast and you inhale suddenly whilst squeezing your thighs together. He lightly scratches across your stomach with his fingernails and you let out a quiet, low moan.

"Eddie-" you turn and realise he's been watching you the whole time.

"What? This is so much more interesting than watching Krueger, trust me."

"Eddie I didn't tell you so you can take advantage!" You say, but theres no malice in it. You smile at him.

Eddie, ever the dramatic, wobbles his head at you and mimics your voice, "Oh Eddie, I'm like, really sensitive, and the smallest touch turns me on but don't do anything about it!"

"I don't sound like that!" You laugh loudly at him, your frame shaking. "And that's not what I said!"

"That's what I heard sweetheart. What do you want me to do? Sit on my hands??" He wiggles his fingers at you and with exaggerated movements forcefully sits on his own hands, frowning and flicking his head the opposite way.

"Eddie?" You touch his shoulder. If anything he turns his head even further away. You can't help but giggle.

"Eddie..." you say in a sing song voice. Nothing.

"Eddie!" Still nothing. You get up as if to leave, but turn to him and straddle his lap. His head is still turned so you take the opportunity to kiss at his neck, trailing kisses and small nibbles.

"Now that's just unfair sweetheart."

"No" you say, still peppering him with kisses "this is unfair" and you mouth the spot where his neck meets his shoulder and suck, hard.

"Holy shit." Eddie wriggles but realises hes trapped himself, his hands stuck under both his weight and yours.

You release his neck with a wet pop and sit back on his lap with a smug smile. Something hard is digging into you, you wiggle slightly and...

Oh.

"Had enough revenge?" Eddie tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows. You shift your weight so he can free his hands, momentarily lost for words. He reaches out to move some stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ear.

"C'mere." He puts his hand to the back of your head and guides you towards him, mouth finding yours.

God, you could become addicted to this feeling. His mouth on yours, hands caressing your waist and hips, his warmth between your legs. You feel a pulse deep inside you, spreading in your core. You roll your hips, grinding your heat down on his jean covered member, drawing a deep groan from both of you.

You plant one hand firmly on the back of the couch, the other in his hair, and deepen the kiss. Every touch feels electric. His palms pressing into your hips leave tingles in their wake. You grind against him again, feeling yourself getting wetter, moaning into his mouth, the feeling building until you know you need to stop. That was embarrassingly fast. You break the kiss and look at him, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Sorry, I have to stop or I'll..." you blush crimson and look away.

"Or you'll what?" He says until his eyes widen. "Oh, were you gonna come?" The last word a whisper. You nod your head.

"Fuck that's so hot. Please don't stop." His hands move to stroke your thighs, bucking his hips into you. You let out a broken moan. Eddie's hands reach under your skirt and grab you by the ass. You lean forward and kiss him again, with urgency this time, tongues clashing. You grind against him, trembling with pleasure. Breaking the kiss you throw your head back, eyes closed, mouth parted.

"Eddie, fuck, oh God yes Eddie!"

You release; the hot, incredible feeling spreads throughout your limbs. Grinding against Eddie you try to keep the high going as long as possible.

Finally coming to a stop, you look down at his face. You want to feel embarrassed but he nearly looks as fucked as you feel, red in the face, hair clinging to his sweaty brow, eyebrows knitted together, mouth slightly open. Chuckling and smiling shyly at him, you move some hair from his face, mirroring what he did to you earlier.

"You okay sweetheart?" He looks at you, stroking your thighs.

"Yeah you could say that" you laugh "how about you?"

"Me? I nearly came in my pants, Jesus Christ!"

You giggle and hide your face in your hands. "Sorry." You say again as if on instinct.

"Hey" he grabs your wrists, "pretty girl, look at me." You reluctantly turn your head back to face him.

"This might be the best day of my life, so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop apologising." You giggle but Eddie looks at you with a serious face.

"Okay Eddie, I'll stop apologising." You climb off his lap and flop next to him on the couch. When you look over you cannot help but see an unmistakable wet patch on his jeans.

You look at it and your eyes flick back to his face. Staring at him he raises his eyebrows at you.

"No. More. Apologising. That's fucking hot." He states, gesturing to his crotch.

"We missed the movie" you say lately, pouting at him.

"Well, I think I've just found my favourite thing to do, and it's a hell of a lot better than watching a movie" Eddie says waggling his eyebrows at you. Sniggering, you bat your eyelashes.

"So, you ready to show me your room?"

"Well, how can I resist when you pull that face?"

He gets up off the couch and walks to the back of the trailer, opening the far door.

"Well, you coming sweetheart?" He gestures at you to follow.

Stepping into his room, you don't know what to expect. It's a mess, not exactly dirty but theres stuff everywhere. Posters adorn every available wall space. Tapes flow over the small desk to one side. Theres note paper and clothes on the floor, and an overflowing ashtray on the bedside table.

"Yeah, wasn't expecting you to come in here, maid's day off and all." He grabs the ashtray and a couple of empty bottles and jogs out the room to dispose of them. Returning with a clean ashtray, he places it on the bedside table and comes behind you, holding you at the waist. His lips press on your neck, sweeping open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your shoulder and back again, hands pressing firmly into your hips as if he thought you might slip away.

Leaning back you bask in the feeling, tipping your head back and smiling.

"Stay" he whispers, almost too quietly; so quiet you're not sure you heard.

"What?"

"Stay." A little louder this time, still peppering you with kisses.

"You mean stay the night?" You question, turning your head to face him, butterflies exploding in your belly. Fingertips ghost your sides, tracing your figure.

"The night." Still kissing your neck, he continues, "the weekend," trailing kisses down your back, meeting the exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake, getting down on his knees to kiss the small of your back, "forever."

Turning to face him he looks up at you, huge brown eyes boring into your soul. Giggling and mussing his hair with your hand you stare back, the question burning in your mind.

Eddie knows. Eddie always knows.

"What's on your mind sweetheart?" He smiles into your skin, nipping and kissing where your skirt meets your stomach.

"Not much when you keep doing that, Jesus."

"Sorry," he grins, smug smile spreading across his face, "it's hard to stop myself."

"It's just... is this real? I mean, you said you like me, but do you... I mean, is this..." you wring your hands, trying to make the words surface in your head.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Eddie grasps your hands; you have no choice but to turn your head down to face him.

"When I said this might be the best day of my life, I fuckin' meant it. You're literally the girl of my dreams. I've been dreaming of you, actually." He presses his mouth to you again, running his fingers along the waistband of your skirt. You sigh in response, legs shaking slightly.

"Jesus Eddie-"

"Not Jesus, just me." He chuckles, hands drifting to your legs, stroking your thighs.

"Fuck Eddie wait..."

"Sorry, you just, you do things to me." He smiles up at you.

"Are we, are we a thing now?"

"What like a couple? Sure, I'm not letting you go anywhere."

Your tummy does a backflip, hoping, longing.

"Well maybe I can stay. I just, I want you to be sure, you know. And I've never, done much with boys. In case you think I'm not... any good."

Eddie gasps at that, his eyes soften. "Oh sweetheart, theres no universe out there where you could possibly not be any good, in any way. You're amazing."

"So, you gonna get up off the floor, or..." you giggle.

"I'm pretty happy here, unless you don't want me to." He flips your skirt up and sees just how wet your panties are. A low groan escapes his throat. You shut your eyes for a second, trying to gather yourself.

"Eddie, I'm trying to say..."

"Yes, I know baby I know. Seriously, if you want me to stop, tell me. I'll stop. You can still stay. We can just go to sleep. Or cuddle." His eyes meet yours, brow furrowed.

You back up a little and you see the disappointment Eddie tries to hide written over his face. Smiling, you sit on the edge of his bed, wriggling your hands down from your hips to your ankles. Eddie looks at you in confusion until you open your hand, your underwear in your palm.

"Now that's the best magic trick I've ever seen!" His eyes wide, grin threatening to split his face in half. You can only blush in response. Waddling over to you on his knees, Eddie grabs your hand and takes your panties. Before you can say anything they've been shoved into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Eddie!"

"What?"

"I hope I'm getting them back..."

"Getting what back?" Eddie grins wolfishly, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

The will to argue dissipates when his kisses trail higher and higher. With deft movements his rough fingers are rubbing the insides of your thighs, travelling towards your throbbing pussy. Leaning back onto your elbows you gaze at Eddie through half lidded eyes, wondering how you could have possibly gotten this lucky. As if he could sense your attention he glances up, running his tongue dangerously near your sex. You moan at the sensation, fingers grabbing the comforter underneath you.

"Fuck, you're just so responsive," he plants a kiss to your mound and you squirm, moaning.

"Oh, we are going to have a lot of fun sweetheart." Eddie smirked at you, eyes shining.

"Eddie please..." you wriggle, skirt riding up to your hips, cunt on full display for him.

He lifts your legs up and over his shoulders. The swipe of his tongue over your tender heat is sudden, sending rivers of pleasure through you. Gently he laps at you, his thumbs pressing bruises into your thighs. The feeling is immense, flowing, molten fire running through your veins. It's both too much and not enough, you need more, more feeling, more Eddie.

"Oh God Eddie..."

He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks softly. Licking and kissing at you; you buck into him, chasing the feeling, unimaginable heat coiling in your stomach, chest, wrists. Nothing matters except this moment. Incoherent babble escapes your lips, telling him not to stop and how good it feels, then just his name, over and over and over.

Eddie's groaning into you, the vibration nearly sending you over the edge. With a final suck to your swollen bud you come, clenching around nothing. You buck and writhe against his face, using it to chase never ending pleasure. Lewd, erotic noises fall from your mouth but you can't find it in you to care. All that matters is you, and Eddie, and the feeling.

Shaking and whimpering you start to come down, well and truly spent. Knuckles white from how hard you were clinging to the bed clothes. Realising this you finally loosen your grip. Eddie moves your still twitching legs off of his shoulders and looks up at you. Your slick is coating his lower face, shining in the light. Eddie literally looks like the cat that got the cream. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

"I've changed my mind, that is my new favourite thing to do" he says with a roguish grin.

Your smile at him, arms reaching out, making grabby hands at him. Chuckling he climbs over you, straddling you. You kiss him full on the mouth, lingering tang of you on his lips. Fingers stroke down to his waist, fiddling with his belt.

"Woah princess no need. Literally." He looks you in the eye, and you stare back, hand reaching to his manhood, and glance down.

Oh.

"Did you-"

"Cum in my pants? Yup." Literally no shame in his voice; he almost looks proud.

You giggle, hand to your mouth. It's almost a relief, having no real idea of what to do with it anyway. Plus, it's nice to know you have a similar effect on him.

"So, I'm gonna clean up and get changed. You need something to sleep in?"

"I'm ok, I usually sleep naked, if that's not a problem?" Your eyes meeting his.

Groaning, Eddie throws his head back, hands to his face, and falls backwards to the floor. You gasp, then realise this is Eddie being his usual self.

"Holy shit sweetheart you cannot say shit like that to me. I've died. I've literally died, and I'm in heaven, and you're some sort of angel." He splays his arms wide, tongue out, eyes closed. Shaking your head you throw a pillow at him, jerking him out of it.

"No need for the vicious attack, I'm having a moment."

He jumps up to go to the bathroom. Stripping off and climbing under the covers, you take a minute whilst he's away to think, really think. It's so hard when he's so near, clouding your judgement. You know you can be impulsive. Is this too much too soon? Am I gonna make a fool of myself? Does he really like me as much as I like him? Your emotions usually get the best of you and the constant struggle is exhausting. Maybe you don't need to think about this tonight. Enjoy tonight, let tomorrow be what it is.

When Eddie returns, all doubt is erased from your mind. He's standing there in a pair of plaid boxers, and his eyes light up at the sight of you in his bed. The look he gives you makes you feel like you're the only girl in the world.

Smiling shyly at him, he stands at the foot of the bed, continuing to stare.

"Something on your mind Eddie?"

"No I'm good, just a bit... overwhelmed." Knowing smirk plastered on his face.

"I can probably help you with that, you know."

"Well, it seems like we've got all night." The look on his face is pure sin.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fan fic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 month

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Angst, unrequited crush, sweet friendship with Robin and Steve. This is angst with a little bit of fluff, my blog is 18+ so mdni.

There's definitely room for a part two so if you'd like that then let me know 🫶❤️

🎀💌✨

Okay, so imagine that you have the biggest crush on Eddie, it's gotten to the point where your heart skips a beat every time he looks at you, you can go from being talkative and a little hyper around your friends, to usually shy and quiet around Eddie.

It's majorly embarrassing, but you comfort yourself with the fact that Eddie probably doesn't even know who you are. You're not in any groups like the cheer group or band, and there's no way that you would even attempt to get into sports.

Yeah, he's caught you staring at him once or twice which was mortifying but you can deal with that, plus his friends are nice and funny and don't make you feel like an idiot for not knowing much about D&D.

As you head to your locker, Eddie and Gareth are deep in conversation with each other. You feel warmness pool in your cheeks as Gareth mentions your name. You've made some posters for Hellfire that Gareth asked you about.

In all honesty you're hoping it might lead to a conversation with Eddie that lasts longer than a few minutes.

Or one that you can approach with confidence, enrapture him with your witty repertoire. Hey, a girl can dream right?

Quickly you fix your hair and fuss around with your clothes as you approach the two of them, trying to figure a way to begin a conversation.

Just say hey you doofus, you chastise yourself. Gareth mentions you again, intrigued you move closer to see what he's saying.

"Eddie, come on man, she has a total crush on you, how could you not notice that?" Eddie frowns, you wait with baited breath for his answer.

"Dude, she's not really my type. I'm kinda hoping Megan will notice me if I'm being honest" Gareth catches your eye, notices you near the locker as yours is only a few doors down from Eddie.

Oh right, of course. Megan. She was into the same bands as Eddie and actually knew how to play d&d. A total badass, cool girl. Of course Eddie would like her.

Gareth's sympathetic gaze meets yours and you want to run away from it and hide. Get far far away from that look. Crushed by Eddie's quick rejection you hurry away from your locker and slam it shut.

You dash the posters away in your bag, brush away the tears that are threatening to build and vow never to get your hopes up about your crush on Eddie ever again.

Eddie looks up, briefly catches a glimpse of you rushing down the corridor. A strange, anxious knot settles in his belly and he doesn't know why, it's like a weird sense of foreboding.

Whatever it is he doesn't like the feeling one bit.

...

Your friends try to cheer you up, unrequited crushes suck so you know it will take a while to get over your feelings for Eddie.

The one thing that does help is your buddimg closeness with Robin and Steve that comes from picking up a few shifts at Family Video.

You love the easy banter between them, feel immediately safe and included when you're around them. You can just be yourself and it's a wonderful feeling.

There's no tying yourself up in knots trying to think of the right thing to say (like you do with Eddie) try to make yourself cooler than you actually are.

It's not like it mattered anyway, Eddie barely noticed you existed, or at least that's what you assumed.

You find hanging out with Steve to be really cool, he's sweet and nothing like the King Steve from back in the day. He picks you and Robin up from school, very quickly the three of you become close friends.

It's nice to have them to focus on and not your crush on Eddie being unreciprocated.

Except you don't realise that Eddie has noticed that you're not around much, you don't really go out of your way to run into him or anything like that.

You still speak to Gareth or Dustin and Jeff but you don't get all shy when Eddie joins in. It's like you don't notice Eddie at all.

He stopped noticing Megan and started noticing you for the first time, your absence leaves an empty space in him that he can't explain.

He sees you with Steve and Robin after school and there's a deep unsettled feeling inside of him, one that whispers to him that maybe you had a crush on Steve. What chick wouldn't?

He doesn't like how that makes him feel, he's moody and can't explain why it's bothering him so badly. He misses your sweet observations, your wit and your kindness to his sheeples.

In all honesty he just misses you. And that's something he never expected to happen.

🫶

If you have any requests then send them in, my request rules are in my pinned post, I'm really into enemies to lovers, older Eddie fics right now, so if you have any fic requests then let me know 🫶💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst

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savetheghostswemakeforourselves · 2 years

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My friend FaceTimed me drunk as a skunk at 2am wearing a Hellfire Club t-shirt that he apparently wore at the bar all day.

I have the best friends

#stranger things #hellfire club #at least we’re all in this hyper fixation together

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munson-blurbs · 1 month

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: What started as a quest to prove Eddie's 'manhood' ended with a gesture that had you hurtling towards your future--ready or not. (5.4k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, parental conflict, poverty, lots of bees, mention of parental illness, brief mention of sex work, finally some actual physical contact between them, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter five: float like a butterfly

For the first time since you’d started working nights, you didn’t dread the sound of your alarm ringing. You’d always appreciated its stillness, with only city noises and the occasional guest puncturing the perfect silence. There were some nights where you didn’t speak a word for the full eight hours of your shift; you just read or wrote or daydreamed until the clock struck six.

Except for last night, of course, when you’d passed the time by talking with Eddie and minimally contributed to wallpaper removal. Your mind flickered back to the way he’d placed his hand on yours. The sensation of his palm, calloused but warm, lingering a beat longer than necessary.

The whole moment could have been deemed unnecessary, in theory. Surely he could have modeled the action on his own and then handed you the tool so you could imitate him. Was it truly to show you how to scrape off glue, or did he have a more gratuitous intention?

Shaking your head, you eschewed the idea almost as quickly as you’d considered it. He was just being polite, a rarity among most of your male guests. Maybe that's why you were so hyper-focused on it; years of clipped conversations and crude comments had you mistaking kindness for something more flirtatious.

Speak of the Devil…

Eddie stood in the lobby, his guitar case slung across his back. He kept one elbow perched on the desk as he spoke to your mom. Whatever he said was making her laugh, a genuine one that brought a light to her eyes. She noticed you first, and when she waved you over, Eddie turned around to see what caught her attention. His smile shifted from open-mouth to close-lipped, more thoughtful and discreet without losing any of its charm.

Slinging your bag off of your shoulder next to the desk, you feigned a casual demeanor and asked, “What did I miss? Serenading my mom?” You nodded towards the guitar case, biting back a smile.

Eddie shook his head, his curls falling in his face. “Tried to make a couple bucks down at the subway station.” He shrugged, shoving his hand in his pocket. “Not enough for a ticket home, but it’s a start.”

Home. Obviously he was going home. New York had nothing for him, had chewed him up and spit him out like he left a bitter taste in its mouth. He had no reason to stay.

Oblivious to your disappointment, Mom laughed again. “Mr. Munson–”

“Eddie. Mr. Munson is my uncle.”

“Eddie,” Mom quickly amended, “was just telling me about the time he ripped his pants while he was on stage.”

Rosy red seeped into Eddie’s cheeks, evidently not expecting your mom to share that information with you. “And that was the last time I wore leather pants,” he said. “Lesson learned.”

Deeming this conclusion insufficient, you inquired further. “How exactly does one rip leather pants?” You stifled a giggle, just imagining him feeling a sudden breeze mid-concert.

“Well, ya see,” he started, crossing his arms over his faded Metallica t-shirt and smirking, “I’m what’s known as an enthusiastic performer. And as such, one might find that leather can be quite restricting.”

“So…you got really sweaty and they ripped.”

Eddie hid his face behind a curtain of curls, all but confirming your suspicions. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Heiress,” he warned with a smile, cocking his pointer finger in your direction.

Mom took that as her cue to leave, quickly clasping your hand and excusing herself. Thick tension set in without her there as a buffer. Her presence prevented any conversation from dipping too deep into flirtation; now, there was nothing stopping it.

Except, of course, the looming fact that he was a guest. And like all guests, he was a temporary fixture in your life.

“The new wallpaper didn’t come in yet,” you blurted out. Dad had insisted on ordering it from a family friend, saving money but forgoing the promises of timely delivery afforded by bigger suppliers.

Eddie shrugged, unbothered by the information. “I know.” He placed a cigarette between his lips and held out the pack in offering, but you shook your head. Without missing a beat, he put his own cigarette back and returned the box to his pocket. “Your mom was saying how excited she is for you to finish your classes and take over the motel.”

Panic flooded your lungs and constricted your breathing at the potential crisis he might have inadvertently caused. Did Mom seem upset? Her usual signs were noticeably absent: narrowed eyes, set jaw, lips painfully taut in a silent roar: we’ll discuss this later.

There was none of that. She was laughing. Happy. Not a hint of disappointment. Yet anxiety still hooked its claws into your skin, a stinging reminder of the anvil dangling over your head.

“You didn’t say—”

“Not a word.” Eddie waved away the thought. “Just smiled and nodded.”

Your chest went concave with relief, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out and pulling him into a hug. His arms held a surprising strength, as evidenced by his wallpaper removal abilities, and you wondered how they would feel wrapped around your waist. Did he hug tightly, not letting go until all of the air had been squeezed from your lungs? Or did he prefer a softer, lazier embrace, one with a hand free to stroke up and down your back?

Why did it matter?

“Is there a reason you haven’t told them?” he asked. The sound of his voice invaded your senses, pulling you back to reality in an instant. “I mean, they seem nice enough.”

Stooping down to grab your notebook, you nodded in agreement. “That’s part of the problem, I guess.” Your teeth scraped along your tongue as you considered your words. “If they were shitty, I wouldn’t feel so bad about letting them down.”

“Letting them down?”

You nodded, feeling that familiar pit that formed in your stomach whenever this subject arose. “Yeah. I can’t be a social worker and run the motel. And if I don’t stick around, they’ll have to close this place for good.”

Eddie breathes out with a low whistle. “Pretty high stakes.”

“You can say that again.” Resting your elbows on the desk, you buried your head in your hands. “How did your parents react when you told them you wanted to be a rockstar?” you asked, your voice slightly muffled.

He took so long to respond that you looked up, wondering if he’d up and left while you weren’t watching.

“My dad’s, um, not in the picture, and my mom died when I was a kid,” he finally said, using his left thumbnail to pick at the right.

“I’m sorry.” And you were: for his loss and for prying into his history. Mortification bloomed and prickled sweat under your arms, and you clenched them to your sides in a feeble attempt to hide any forming stains.

“S’okay. I mean, you didn’t know, so…” his shoulders moved up and down, his mouth drawn into a forgiving half-smile, “now you know.”

Now you know. A little slice of him, presented to you like one of the cakes the local bakery kept locked behind a pane of refrigerated glass. The ones you admired as a kid, reveling in their perfectly smooth icing and intricately piped pastel flowers. They’d always seemed too delicate to touch, so you’d skipped over them in favor of sprinkle-laden cookies.

Logically, you know that the cakes were made for consumption. All you needed to do was ask for a taste. But you could never bring yourself to ruin their beauty. Not then, and not now.

And so, as always, you stepped away and chose the easier path instead.

“Did you really rip your pants on stage?”

Eddie’s nose wrinkled at the sudden subject change, but he recovered quickly. “Sure did. Split right down the seam.” He puffed out a short laugh through his nose. “Poor Gareth got an eyeful that night.”

“Are you sure that isn’t the real reason you left the band?” Picking up the nearest pen, you poked the capped end into his forearm.

He play-winced, rubbing the spot the cap touched, and shook his head. “Nah, this was my high school band. Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“Oh, yeah. We were terrifying.” Eddie widened his eyes in mock-horror. “The backbone of Indiana’s satanic panic, actually.”

You raised your brows. “Impressive.”

“Mhm. We only broke up because our bassist went to college out of state. Princeton.” He lowered his voice at the name as though relaying confidential information.

“Not the Ivy Leagues!” You pressed your hand to your heart, clutching metaphorical pearls.

Eddie grimaced. “I’m afraid so.”

“I’ve heard Princeton is known for their demonic studies program, so that tracks.”

This is nice. This is easy. No mention of schoolwork, or the motel, or parents—or lack thereof. You could do this all night.

A throat clearing followed by a hacking cough took you both by surprise. Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you found Phyllis standing in the lobby doorway.

“There’s a wasp nest outside my window,” she said, tugging up one drooping shirt sleeve. The odor of stale cigarettes grew stronger as she walked closer to you and Eddie; even if she quit smoking today, the pungency would always cling to her.

Uncapping your pen, you reached into the desk drawer and grabbed the stack of Post-Its. “I’ll make a note to get some insecticide spray tomorrow,” you promised, poorly curbing your exasperation.

If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.

The older woman didn’t put up any argument, but Eddie was obviously displeased. “Like hell you will.” He glanced around, pent-up energy overflowing as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “You got a baseball bat around here?”

Your “Uh, no,” overlapped with Phyllis’s nonchalant, “Yeah, of course,” and she left to fetch it.

A sigh escaped you, hinting at your mounting irritation. “Eddie, absolutely not,” you insisted. “Just wait till I get the spray and you can do it then.”

He clicked his tongue with a note of condescension that you didn’t particularly appreciate. “Don’t worry about it, Heiress. I’m from the Midwest; our wasps are like your rats. This’ll be nothing.” When you remained unconvinced, he adopted a teasing grin. “I don’t tell you how to do your nerd stuff, do I? So leave me to my man stuff in peace.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva. “Your man stuff?”

“Yes. Very strong and burly.” He flexed a bicep for emphasis and you threw your hands up in defeat, trying to ignore the soft fluttering in your stomach at the vein bulging through his skin.

Phyllis returned with the bat, the wooden neck clenched between arthritic fingers. “It’s right around the side,” she told Eddie. “Just look for the giant nest. And don’t forget to give this back when you’re done; I’m working tonight.” She thrust the bat into Eddie’s hand and padded back to her room, slippers thwacking against the linoleum.

Eddie twirled the bat, threading it through his fingers and catching it smoothly. He smiled, unable to camouflage his pride. “See? I got this.” His grasp was determined without a hint of tenderness, a stark contrast to the way he’d held your hand the night prior. Tucking it underneath a denim-clad arm, he took a deep breath and pushed through the front door like he was preparing for battle.

You watched him leave, shaking your head. Evidently, he had a point to prove, but you doubted the chances of his success. Part of you wished you could leave the desk to watch him in action. Another part was relieved that you had the excuse to avoid witnessing this disaster as it unfolded.

As you predicted, not even half a minute had passed before you heard Eddie yelping, his footsteps thudding towards the motel’s entrance. He flung the door open with enough force that it smacked against the wall, scrambling to slam it shut behind him. His chest heaved under his jacket as he tried to catch his breath.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He swatted around his head at some lingering wasps. “Son of a bitch!”

Sucking your tongue to your front teeth, you bit back an I-told-you-so. “How’s your ‘manhood’ or whatever?”

Maybe that wasn’t much better than outright gloating, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Eddie made a closed fist with only his middle finger sticking up, and he winced almost immediately. “I think one of those little fuckers got me.” He cradled one hand in the other as you walked towards him for a closer inspection.

Sure enough, a stinger was poking out from the side of his forefinger.

Phyllis came shuffling back from her room, pink lipsticked mouth pursed in concern. “Jesus, kid. Were you trying to piss them off?” The loose skin under her neck wobbled when she chortled. “You swung at that nest like you were Babe Ruth!”

Through a tense smile, you asked her to get a soapy washcloth so you could clean out the wound before it could spark an allergic reaction. “Unless, of course, that interferes with your man stuff,” you said to Eddie, all-too happy to throw his words back in his face.

“Fuck off.” A traitorous chuckle broke through his stoic exterior despite his very real pain. His eyes followed your movements as you grabbed the first aid kit.

You took his warm palm in yours, gently turning it to assess the afflicted finger. The stinger was lodged under his skin, already turning the surrounding area an angry red.

“Oof, he really stung you good, huh?” Your tone was all sympathy; you figured he’d gotten enough jabs from the wasps.

Eddie gritted his teeth as you gingerly scraped at the stinger with the edge of your notebook, taking care not to squeeze out any of the venom. You tightened your grip to keep his hand in place, feeling the soft but steady thrum of his heartbeat between his wrist and his thumb’s tendon. It had a melody of its own.

Slowly, meticulously, you eased the stinger out from where it was wedged.

“Sorry,” you said softly, noting the way his eyes clamped shut as you drew out the stinger and brushed it onto the desk.

“S’okay.” He managed a small smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The night was still for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft but eager.

“Tell me more about Izzy.”

Apparently, you weren’t the only one with a penchant for rapid subject changes.

At once, your head was filled with memories of her: the pigtails held in place with thick rubber bands, the popsicle juice-stained pink t-shirt, the giggles that melted away your stress from a succession of ungrateful customers. He said something else, but you were too engrossed in your own thoughts for the words to register.

“Hmm?”

“The little girl you helped.” Eddie cocked a quizzical brow, suddenly worried that he’d remembered incorrectly. “That was her name, right?”

You nodded. “She was only there that one day. I didn’t see her again.”

Her mother was probably too embarrassed to stay any longer and found another motel. If you could go back in time, you would have reassured her, maybe even offered to watch after Izzy while she worked. You might have informed her of programs where she could find a job that didn’t put her or Izzy in harm’s way.

Eddie continued talking, for some reason persistent in his quest for answers. “But you said she talked to you while she was drawing. About her favorite stuff?”

Phyllis returned with cloth before you could answer him, and she rested it on the desk with a sigh. “I’m gonna head out,” she said, pointing at Eddie, “but my bat better be in my room before I get back, Yogi Berra.”

He nodded, absently massaging the nape of his neck. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” One burgundy-painted fingertip pointed at Eddie, then at you. “I like this kid.”

How do you even respond to that? An honest, ‘me, too’? An overly sarcastic, ‘he’s alright’?

You opted for a small, unassuming smile and the reminder to be safe, which was absurd when you really thought about it. Phyllis had been doing this, as she put it, “since my tits were above my belly button,” yet you were telling her about safety.

Bringing your attention back to the sting, you clutched the sopping wet washcloth. Phyllis apparently hadn’t wrung it out; water dripped down the side of your fingers and splashed onto the floor in an uneven plop-plop-plop.

With an abundance of care, you swiped the cloth over the sting site. It was already starting to swell, the skin raised and angry.

Eddie reflexively pulled away, the tension evident from the way his front teeth formed grooves in his lower lip.

“Fuck, that hurts.” His free fist pounded into the desktop with so much force that, for a split second, you worried that he might leave a dent.

“I know, but we have to clean it out,” you said.

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath; you weren't sure you even wanted to know what he said. “Yeah, yeah.” He winced as the frayed fibers grazed him again. “So…Izzy?”

“There isn’t much to say,” you answer honestly. “I mean, she just told me she loved McDonalds french fries and Muppet Babies. Especially baby Fozzie Bear.”

“Anything else?”

You thought back for a moment. “Her favorite animal was dogs, but only the little ones. She said the big ones scared her because they barked too loud. Oh, and her favorite color was light purple.”

The memory is bittersweet, bathing you in both comfort and a dull ache. It was almost six years ago but the little girl had made herself at home in your mind. You thought about her on a daily basis, wondering if she and her mom were still bouncing from motel to motel, or if they’d found a permanent place to settle. Every ounce of optimism you possessed worked to help you believe that they were safe and that she didn’t remember when safety wasn’t guaranteed.

“I knew it.”

You looked up from applying calamine lotion, dabbing the pink-stained cotton ball over any excess dripping off of his finger. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d remember everything she told you.” His thumb relaxed and fluttered down until it rested on yours, the pad of his finger on your knuckle.

You reached for a Band-Aid before realizing that opening it required two hands. With more hesitation that you anticipated, you let go of him. “And what makes you say that?” You wrapped the bandage around his finger, careful not to press too tightly around the sting. “There. Good as new.”

Eddie smiled his appreciation. “I, um, had a similar experience when I was a kid.” He swallowed, picking at the Band-Aid until the adhesive side began to bunch up. When he allowed himself to glance at you, he saw you looking back at him, silently encouraging him to tell his story.

“My mom got sick when I was in kindergarten. The treatment made her tired and nauseous, like, all the time; when she wasn’t sleeping, she was throwing up.” His eyes clouded over and his voice cracked slightly; he cleared his throat and continued. “I was at school one day, and the social worker asked me if I had anyone at home who washed my clothes for me. And when I told her no, she asked me to bring any clothes I needed cleaned with me the next day. So I did, and after school let out, she took me to the Laundromat.”

If you told him that he didn’t have to keep talking, he'd stop. He’d wipe away any residual tears and excuse himself, and you’d once again spend your shift alone. And so you didn’t say anything, just stood there as his gears turned in recollection.

“She had this game: she’d hold up a piece of clothing and ask if it goes in the ‘lights’ or ‘darks’ pile, and she would get faster and faster until I was laughing too hard to answer.” Eddie exhaled a short laugh and swiped his tongue over his top teeth. “The whole time, I’m thinking that it’s all fun, that this is a normal thing that every kid did. I didn’t realize until years later that it was because my clothes smelled, y’know?”

Sheepishness colored Eddie’s face in pink splotches as he shifted from man to boy and then back again.

“Anyway, your story about Izzy kinda reminded me of that. And she might not remember your name or even what you talked about, but she’ll remember someone being there for her. Someone who didn’t act like she was a bother or a charity case. Just a kid who wanted to play.”

His words left you without any of your own. There was so much to digest; chiefly, your newfound glimpse into Eddie’s past. And though you’d only ever known him as an adult, you were still picturing him as a child. He sat atop a counter where others folded their clothes, his brown eyes–looking even bigger than they did presently, given his small stature–gazing up at the woman in wonderment as he giddily sorted his laundry.

And then, of course, there was the delicately embedded compliment. The reassurance that you had been a positive force in Izzy’s life, even through one brief encounter.

It was the only part that you could elaborate on without intruding on his privacy. He’d shared something so personal, and while you were desperate to learn more about him, you didn’t want to barge past the boundaries he had so carefully constructed.

“Yeah, I…just wanted her to feel safe, I guess.” You’d devised a plan while you drew flowers and Care Bears in case no one showed up to find her. Everything had to be done so that she remained in the dark about the situation’s severity; you’d have Mom or Dad check the room, only calling the authorities if Izzy’s mom was unresponsive—or worse.

In the end, there was no need for you to worry. Her mother was alert and Izzy herself was none the wiser that anything was wrong. You hadn’t even told your parents about the situation despite their potential involvement. Eddie, of all people, was the only other person who knew.

He nodded and reached over, giving your hand a subtle, tender squeeze.

“You did.”

Reassurance drifted through the air and clung to you like the sharp scent of tobacco on his jacket. Receiving compliments wasn’t your strongest suit, so you pivoted topics to avoid stretching the ensuing awkward silence any further.

“The calamine lotion should help with the itching, but you can take some Benadryl if it’s still bad.” Rummaging through the first aid kit, you searched for the medication but only managed to scrounge up a bottle of expired ibuprofen. “There’s a pharmacy a few blocks down. They’ll have some there.” A little mom and pop shop that sold candy and cheap wine in addition to different over-the-counter medicines, it had been a community staple since before you were born.

The corners of Eddie’s eyes crinkled, lips turning upwards in amusement. “An heiress, a social worker, and a nurse? What can’t you do?”

That was a loaded question, and you were relieved that it was rhetorical so you wouldn’t have to list all of your shortcomings. You settled for flipping him off with an accompanying smile of your own.

“I should probably get that bat before she gets back,” he said, glancing towards the older woman’s room. He lowered his voice and continued. “She kinda scares me.”

“Oh, I definitely would not get on her bad side,” you agreed. “Phyllis’s wrath will make that wasp sting feel like a walk in the park.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” His laugh was music that stirred up a desire to dance, to be carried by the melody like a strong gust of wind, and then he was out the door.

Immediately, you were inclined to find something new to talk about when he walked back in. You’d had two days of companionship and had been spoiled by it; the thought of another night in solitude suddenly seemed lonely.

You couldn’t ask about his parents or the social worker who’d taken him to the Laundromat; that was too personal, too soon. Same with his old band. But music–his favorite songs, musicians, albums–that might be safe enough to explore.

The door opened and brought with it a cool evening breeze. Eddie returned much more confidently than he had the last time, Phyllis’s bat slung over his shoulder.

“Apparently, I actually managed to knock the nest down,” he reported, sounding as surprised as you felt.

He stifled a yawn, denim creasing at the elbow when he lifted his hand to cover his mouth. It was then that you noticed the way sleep tugged at his eyelids, dashing any remaining hope of having a conversational partner this evening. Asking him to stay awake for you was just selfish.

“I’ll see you around, Heiress. Let me know if there’s any more man stuff you need from me.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice in quick succession and started towards his room.

“Night, Eddie.”

Opportunity slipped through your fingers as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps eventually too muted to hear. You shoved your disappointment beneath the surface. Eddie wasn’t your friend; he was a guest who happened to be friendly. Asking him to stick around and chat would be unprofessional.

If he happened to stop by the desk while you worked, you could make small talk. Otherwise, it would be business as usual.

Minutes were hours and hours were days. Another trucker needed a room for the night, and you checked him in around four o’clock.

You thought about the certainty in Eddie’s assurance that Izzy had felt safe with you. He didn’t know her; he barely knew you, and he wasn’t even there when it all happened. Yet his approval illuminated from the inside out and you replay it over and over.

You did. You did. You did.

Izzy was safe with you and she knew it. If you swallowed your fears and forged your own path, you could help other kids just like her. But it would come at a steep cost unless your parents could somehow miraculously afford to hire a new employee.

Your stomach turns just imagining the motel’s windows shuttered, a For Sale sign propped up in the door, ready to be snapped up by a major hotel chain for a mediocre sum that would barely pay off the overdue bills. It haunted you.

How long could you do this? How long could you push off your own dreams in favor of your parents’? At what point did you cross that fine line between selflessness and martyrdom?

Exhaustion crushed your body, strong enough to overpower the churning anxiety. Still, your sleep was fitful, and you woke up before your alarm feeling wholly unrested. Achiness radiated through your bones as you dragged yourself out of bed.

You knew what you had to do.

Dad noticed your earlier departure, so used to you leaving at 1:45 every day like clockwork. His brows pinched with perplexity as he determined whether he’d forgotten about a change in your schedule.

“Just running an errand before class.”

His confusion faded, replaced with a grin. “Thought I was losing my mind.” The way he stood under the lighting accentuated the gray flecks in his hair and mustache and solidified that he was, in fact, aging. His eventual retirement loomed closer, more of a when than an if with each passing day.

“Can’t lose what you never had,” you teased weakly. Dad met your joke with a wink; if he had picked up on the falter in your voice, he was gracious enough to ignore it.

You took a slight deviation from your usual route, walking past the bus stop and turning the corner until you reached the mailbox. It beckoned you, taunted you, sneered at your cowardice. The stamped envelope mocked you tenfold; innocuous on the surface but held the weight of betrayal.

It contained your admissions letter to NYU with the “accept” box marked and a deposit check that nearly drained your savings, ready to go.

The mailbox hinge creaked open so loudly that it seemed to echo. All you had to do was drop the envelope down the chute and pray that you made the right choice.

Regret surged through your veins the moment the envelope left your fingertips. You acted on instinct, shoving your hand back down the box to reclaim your letter, but you knew it was a fruitless effort before you’d even failed. It was already lost in a sea of bills and birthday cards.

“Shit!” Yanking your arm out before someone accused you of mail theft, you tilted your head back in an attempt to stop the impending tears.

With one stupid decision, you’d heaved a shovel into the dirt and begun digging a grave for the family business.

What the hell were you thinking?

As though it had a mind of its own, your foot swung out and smacked against the tin drum with all of your might. It took a beat for the pain to hit, the throbbing in your toes matching the reverberating metal.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You didn’t care who saw, who heard. Anger and self-loathing bubbled over like boiling water and scalded you in shame. Everything was so far out of your control, and you couldn’t rein it in. The world kept spinning fast, faster, too fast—

“Kicking it won’t make the mailman show up, y’know. ‘S not like rubbing a genie’s lamp.”

Eddie stood on the other side of the mailbox. A plastic bag dangled from his hand, the box of drugstore brand antihistamine peeking through its translucence. His playfulness morphed into concern when he noted your dewy lashes. “Heiress? You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” You swiped at your cheeks and sniffed back the mucus that collected in your nostrils. You probably should have been embarrassed that he’d caught you in such a state of distress; maybe you would be once the dust settled.

He wrinkled his nose dubiously. You couldn’t blame him; why would he be convinced when you were assaulting mailboxes and swearing at the air?

“Seriously. Just having a bad day.” And it was going to get even worse if you missed your bus—again. “Thanks for asking, though.” You managed a grateful smile to prove your sincerity.

Grabbing your backpack from its spot on the ground, you zipped it back up and hoisted it over your shoulder before starting back towards the stop.

“Hey, wait a sec.” Eddie called out to you, shuffling over until he was by your side. “You, uh, your makeup…” He trailed off bashfully, raising his thumb but stopping before it touched your skin. “May I?”

You nodded, breath hitching as the pad of his finger grazed just below your eye. He gently rubbed, tongue poking between his lips while he focused on removing the smudge without hurting you.

He was close, almost too close for comfort. There was a small cut on his chin where he must have nicked himself shaving, and you forced yourself to stare at that instead of his wide eyes.

“There…we…go.” He held up a mascara-stained thumb as evidence. Without thinking, you pressed your own thumb to it. The knuckles of your remaining four fingers slotted between his until you pulled away.

Eddie laughed, apparently amused by the odd gesture. “I’ll take that as a thank you.” He wiped the residue on his shirt, not caring if it left a mark. “Don’t miss the bus; wouldn’t want you to be late for your nerd stuff again.”

“Mhm.”

You harnessed all of your strength to unglue your feet from the sidewalk. Your body operated on autopilot to its destination while your mind only thought of the heat that leapt from his thumb to yours, or maybe yours to his.

It was cyclical, you surmised as the bus approached, with no clear beginning or end.

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 10 months

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⌗︙・⚠︎ miguel o'hara unable to keep his desperation and urges at bay ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝

Whenever a difficult and unsavory situation was to be presented before you, you would play dumb. With a confused expression on your face, and eyes filled with naivety like a lost puppy, you'd play dumb.

Not all the time of course, since this sort of act sometimes just wasn't enough to keep some situations from blowing up right in your face. Your feigned ignorance would be an acting catalyst for a much bigger problem, and it was only then that you'd drop the act and find a safe way to diffuse the issue before it coagulated into something worse. The number of times when you were just so aware—so hyper-aware of what could be yet another hot mess or a blessing in disguise—yet gave nothing but a sweet clueless smile, was countless.

The less you knew, the less you'd be hurt. Yeah, it's a terrible way of dealing with your problems, but you're self-aware enough to know that. It feels awful to act like a fool when you so badly want to say what's on your mind, to have to pent up your feelings and thoughts just because you don't want to ruin what you've worked so hard to build up. But you're a coward—a sniveling, pathetic little coward that can't even properly face their own problems like an adult—first and foremost, even if your cowardice provided but a temporary safety.

But by god, this strange little coping mechanism was probably the only thing that keeps you away from his touch, his twisted affections, and just everything about him. Miguel O'Hara is someone who is testing your ability, making it so hard to keep a calm face when all you want to do is fight your way out of his obsessive hold and run far away. His temper is far from pleasant, flaring red like hellfire and fangs bared as if he were ready to tear you to pieces, and it's clear he has the strength to do it if he so easily wanted to.

But he doesn't—he wouldn't—ever direct his animalistic anger at you, not physically. No matter how much you beg or try to bargain with him to please just let you go or try your hand at escaping his futuristically clean apartment, he never lets his physical prowess loose upon you, never raising a clawed hand to wrap around your fragile neck. No, the most he's ever done was grab onto your shoulders with a painful squeeze, voice raising more and more until you swear you felt a faint ringing in your ears. Upon seeing your pained expression, he loosened his grip but still didn’t release you. He coaxed you—forced you—into promising that you wouldn't try that again, his voice and face bordering on desperation as he sucks in deep breaths, cooling down his explosive temper.

It's not like you have much of a choice either. Especially when Miguel's affectionate touches and embraces become more intimate, dipping closer and closer into unwanted territory that leaves your heart racing. And not in a good way.

It's so hard to pretend, hard to play dumb when Miguel tries so hard to make his inconspicuous touches seem so innocent, so loving, as his hands draw close to areas he shouldn't even have permission to touch. When he forces you upon his lap, face buried in the side of your neck—you're even sure he inhales your scent—the feeling of something hot and stiff prodding at you from below is far from lost on you. It's a bit hard to be able to hold a conversation with what is essentially your kidnapper, whom you know retreats to the privacy of the bathroom to relieve himself when your supposed obliviousness becomes too much for him.

You know it's only a matter of time before Miguel's patience runs thin, and the touches that you always squirm away from will devolve and become even more obvious and more desperate. You know that Miguel is fighting every urge to just take you against whatever surface happens to be nearest, fighting the urge to leave your lower half numb until you could hardly walk anymore. You know that he wants nothing more than to fill you with him, your bodies clinging onto one another as you fill up and overwhelm each other's senses.

You're proven right when Miguel corners you against the wall, eyes red with carnal need and body so warm that it is more akin to flames about to burn uncontrollably. You're proven right when Miguel seizes you by the shoulders and hunches over to force his lips onto yours, swallowing up the sounds you make and using his strength to still you amidst all of your squirming. You're proven right when he begins to carry you to that disgustingly pristine bedroom of his, ignoring your attempts at escape while his touches and kisses begin to become more feverish and desperate.

Playing dumb did not make Miguel's pent-up desires magically go away. It only simply stalled the inevitable.

"Se siente muy bien—muy apretado.." Miguel pants above you as his hips buck against your skin, rendering you unable to bite back the warbled moans you'd been trying so hard to swallow down. He becomes excited upon hearing your cries, barely able to suppress himself from smothering his body against yours. But he seems to remember that he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore, doesn't have to keep his desire for you at bay.

The last words he whispers before pushing his lips to yours are, "Te amo tanto mi cariño." Miguel moans into your mouth, already drunk on your lips like the lovesick fool he is. Not even a few seconds pass before he's deepening the kiss, furiously invading and exploring every single last inch he could humanly reach. There is no room for oxygen—Miguel is barely even breathing in the kiss, too focused on feeling your lips upon his—and you struggle to take even the simplest of breaths. Even if you try to yank yourself away from the overwhelming kiss, Miguel would just find a way to meld his mouth to yours again.

Your arms are stuck together above your head—laser-red webbing holds them tight together and sturdily to the headboard—and no amount of struggling would do good in loosening your limbs. Miguel keeps your legs spread with his waist, leaving no room for you to kick him away or curl your legs up defensively. It also provides him with the perfect angle in with to animalistically pound into you, burying himself as deep as he can possibly can. When he pulls his hips back, he's quick to push his cock back inside, unwilling to leave your insides for even a second.

Miguel is too big, forcing your insides to accommodate his throbbing shaft as it stretched you far wider than you'd thought to be possible. Even if he had so lovingly spread you out, thick fingers rubbing against your velvet-soft walls, it still wasn't enough to prepare you when he pushed just the swollen tip past sensitive muscles. He tried his best to be gentle and patient, he really did, but the sight of your sniveling expression effortlessly tore his restraint into shreds. He couldn't bring himself to stop the rapid movements of his hips, unable to bite back his desperation to feel your fluttering walls around his thick shaft.

And now he's like a parasite, trying to worm his way into your body, desperate to feel your warmth around him. Relentlessly, he unravels your body bit by bit, not caring for the damage that he leaves behind. He only cares to carve himself into your very soul, merge himself with you until you and him are all but one.

You feel like you're going to die; you can hear your own heartbeat pounding violently inside your head, and your face feels like someone lit it on fire. You're sure that you look like an absolute mess. The worst part is, you can feel ebbs of pleasure eating away at your nerves, leaving you feeling utterly humiliated at how Miguel is forcing your body to so easily surrender to his touch and twisted love. This is the absolute worst.

A shriek escapes from your lips and into the kiss as Miguel drops nearly the entirety of his weight on your body, pushing his fat cock right up into a sensitive spot. On reflex you jerk your head away, breaking the kiss as you let out a broken moan. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you came. You orgasmed. Miguel made you come undone just like that. And you know that he knows. He moans and wheezes, hips moving like a jackhammer as the sudden tightening of your walls forces his own orgasm to come forth quicker.

"Te amo--teamoteamoteamoteamo—" Miguel chants it over and over, endlessly pouring out his love for you in the only way he can before he finally cums. He can feel the way your walls flutter and pulse as they milk him for his worth, and he can see how you snivel and whine from overstimulation. You truly have no idea as to how much you truly affect, how even the simplest action on your part sends his mind and heart into overdrive. You drive him crazy.

Exhausted—no, you know that he's using it as a cover just to shower you in postcoital affections—, he nuzzles himself into the base of your neck, pressing lazy kisses near where your pulse beats rapidly. You shudder against him, the sensations feeling like death clawing against your body, but you're too out of it to even try and push him away, so you're forced to lay there beneath him. He whispers sweet nothings, surely about his endless love for you, but you don't want to hear that. Anything but hearing him spout nonsense about his obsessive love for you.

"Otra vez," he murmurs against your skin, fangs just barely coming close to pressing down on your neck. His cock twitches back to life inside your overstimulated walls, ignoring the pleasurable pain of his own body trying to come down from its high just so he could fuck you senseless again. Miguel pulls away, to drink up the sight of his cariño once more beneath him, your form shivering so adorably—he can feel himself shiver from pure arousal alone. Miguel thinks that you're the most gorgeous person he's ever seen in his damn life.

"Let's go again mi amor."

#lati thirsts #tw yandere #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #yandere spiderman #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #my spanish is very rusty pls forgive any mistakes i made ;-;

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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

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Mrvlbimbo's Eddie Munson Masterlist

hiiiiii everyone, I figured it was time I made a master list for all my Eddie fics.

For anything in the series and longer fics catagory y'all can send me requests to further those stories and/or HCs you have for them.

Everything other than the drabbles is explicitly xfem reader because I write in third person using she/her pronouns.

The summaries are bad but hopefully this is helpful for everyone.

Smut meter

🍓complete fluff

🍒suggestive

🌶smuttish

🔥full on smut

Other tags

☁️angst

🍬sub! Eddie

🧁sub! Reader

🏠established relationship

🎲virgin! Eddie

💎virgin! Reader

Series and longer fics

Secret admirer series, pt1, 2, 3, 4

reader leaves romantic notes in Eddie's locker because she's too shy to talk to him in person.

Rating: 🌶💎🎲 (will change when chapter 4 is posted)

Eddie x bimbo!reader series masterlist

based on this request: eddie and bimbo reader!! a unique pair, but reader likes metal and rock music, and they find other ways to bond later

Rating: there’s too many parts but it’s a mix of all

Incentive, pt 1

Eddie has a crush on the assistant coach of the Hawkins High women's tennis team. She's only a year older than him, only problem is she refuses to date a highschooler. Looks like Eddie has some incentive to graduate

Something isn't right here, pt 1/2

A few weeks after returning from the upside down, Eddie wakes up changed. His new bloodlust only rivaled by his regular lust for his best friend.

Bimbo!reader x Vampire!Eddie

Perv!Eddie thoughts,

some hcs

Just a little quid pro quo, Virgin!reader buys drugs from Eddie and just so happens for 'forget' her money

Eddie's neighbor gets drenched in the cold and he just neeeeds to help her warm up

Sub!Eddie thoughts,

using a vibrator on Eddie

making Eddie cry his eyeliner off

What’s the plot of Romeo and Juliet again?

based on this request: eddie X (cheerleader?) reader where reader is dating jason. they get into an argument and eddie steps in to protect her. maybe they end up breaking up and eddie is really happy about it.

Rating: 🔥💎🧁

And they were roomates (pt 2 eventually)

Eddie and the reader are roommates, she catches him jerking off. She offers to help.

Rating: 🌶🍬

You mean nothing (everything) to me

friends to enemies to lovers. They fuck in the hellfire chair. It's almost 5k words.

Rating: 🔥🍬☁️

Practice makes perfect, first times the charm (coming soon)

based on this request: Eddie fic? where poor baby is a virgin but his not-girl-friend is more than happy to let him give her head for ‘practice’?

Rating: 🌶🍬🎲

It’s about time someone wrote an Eddie Munson sex pollen fic

its an Eddie Munson sex pollen fic.

Rating: 🔥

Jason doesn’t know

Eddie and reader are fwb and she's cheating on her boyfriend (Jason) Loosely based on the song Scotty Doesn't Know.

Rating: 🔥

One shots

Don’t move

cockwarming with subby Eddie

Rating:🔥🍬🏠

Polar Opposites

based on this request: eddie with a hyper feminine, super spoiled girl? Like, everyone just being exhausted by the stereotypical girly thing she is, and her just sitting all pretty in his lap in the throne in the hellfire club room

Rating:🍒🏠

Oblivious

based on this request: Eddie coming home after a club meeting that went rlly well and he’s super pent up and energized and he gets into his room and he’s greeted with the sight of his sweet y/n on his bed in the cutest pink lingerie set waiting to have him basically rearrange her organs, and ofc he does cause how could he say no to his needy girl

Rating: 🔥🏠

I like-like you too

based on this request: eddie x fem!reader where they both like eachother and it’s sooo obvious to everyone but them? and they get teased all the time by everyone

Rating: 🍒

One more?

based on this request: Eddie fucking readers brain out and then taking care of her while she's in subspace

Rating: 🔥🧁🏠

Gummies

based on this request: u eat some of eddies gummy bears only to find out they were edibles, n now eddie has to deal with a very high y/n who wont stop gushing about him and being all giddy

Rating: 🍓

Road trip

based on this request: reader and Eddie aren’t really close but they both unknowingly think each other are attractive but reader thinks Eddie is way out of her league. So they’re in the car with dustin, max, mike and Steve, but there’s no room for the reader so Eddie offers for reader to sit on his lap. So they’re both really nervous and reader keeps shifting in his lap so he grips her hips to get her to stop because he’s getting hard and he’s really embarrassed about it

Rating: 🌶🍬

I’ll never leave

based on this request: eddie having a nightmare where his gf leaves him only for him to wake up with her drooling all over his arm in her sleep

Rating: 🍓☁️🏠

It goes both ways

based on this request: reader getting into a fight with a jock because he hit and/or upset Eddie? Like, maybe she could kick his ass but she would also have gotten her fair share of hits?

Rating: 🍓

Not so innocent

based on this request: y/ns like this good girl teachers pet-- pleated skirts and mary janes and all-- with straight a's and she's sent to tutor eddie bc man is failing with a capital F so they're studying in her pink room with a bunch of awesome stuffies (in my head a lot of them are dragons and gargoyles and eddie's nerdy lil heart fricken explodes but this is just me being stupid in love) and he has full intention to do absolutely zERO work

(corruption kink and dom!eddie if you couldn't tell by now jdjjd)

and the whole time he's just teasing her (cough degrading her cough) and flirting with her (cO U G H praising her ahem) and- oops now they're fucking *acts shocked*

Rating: 🔥💎🧁

Thoroughly

based on this request: idk idk i’m just imagining eddie being like bold bold

“you wish you could handle me”

“yes, i do. roughly…thoroughly…for hours…”

Rating: 🍒

Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.

based on this request: eddie accidentally calling you mommy while you’re edging him? so u like slightly laugh cause ur like omg???????? and he’s just so embarrassed BYE

Rating: 🔥🍬🏠

Rings can’t go in there

based on this request: eddie having to fish his ring out of your coochie

Rating: 🌶🏠

Teenage rebellion

Based on the request: What if Jason’s sister flirts with Eddie just to annoy his brother but she ends up having sex with him (I like how you write, specifically submissive Eddie)

Rating: 🔥🍬🎲

Drabbles

Aftercare

Wearing his rings

Giving him hickies

Boobs, boobs pt2

Belly bulge

Thighs

Fingering

Your first time with Eddie

Praise kink

Sub Eddie with begging

Naked Polaroids

Eddie x plus sized reader

Eddie with a mommy kink

Eddie x y2k aesthetic reader

Role play

Possessive Eddie

Giving Eddie head scratches

Flirting with Eddie

Jewlery and tits

Eddie is needy and wants attention

Eddie doesn't want to share his cookies with Hellfire

Getting Eddie's name tattooed

(Plz lmk if any of the links don’t work)

#stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff

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silkscream · 2 years

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𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

ੈ✩ pairing: eddie munson x reader

ੈ✩ summary: a late night at lover’s lake has eddie falling head over heels for you.

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), unprotected sex, drug use, choking

ੈ✩ wc: 2.6k

ੈ✩ a/n this was supposed to be a blurb um rip

eddie munson is afraid to break you. he treats you like glass, though crystal would be more accurate than anything tempered. he’s afraid to touch you, really touch you, even though you had beckoned him like a river goddess down at the lake with your soft smile and doe-eyes, and god, you’d been invading his dreams since the moment you’d arrived in hawkins.

eddie doesn’t do anything half-assed — not as hellfire club’s DM, not as corroded coffin’s guitarist, certainly not as a lover. it’s what you like about him, that underneath all that sterling silver is calloused bravery.

but now, in the dead of night at lover’s lake, he stands there shivering just a bit and refusing to break the gossamer abstraction of whatever web acts as a barrier between the two of you. he fiddles with his rings as he watches you lick the joint into place. the tension is threadbare and aching to be cut with a knife.

he’s mesmerized by the glow of the flame nearly licking your face when you light the joint. you blink back, blowing smoke at his face with a grin.

“all yours, munchkin,” you murmur.

“that’s new. y’come up with that on your own?” eddie scoffs, taking the joint from you. he thinks that maybe he needs something stronger than weed right now to calm down. he doesn’t know why it feels like every electron in his body seems to shake the closer you get to him. maybe it was yesterday’s acid trip.

he thinks briefly about what that high would be like with you, imagining the two of you peaking at the same time and seeing stars in each other’s irises. maybe one day.

“yes, actually.”

he mumbles some smartass comeback, but you don’t respond. the earth seems to stand still — even the slow current of the lake is eerily stagnant while the two of you wordlessly pass the joint back and forth. "come on eileen” comes on the radio and eddie makes a snide remark awaiting your approval or denouncement, but you’re too busy watching the reflection of the moon on the lake. within minutes, you’re pulling off your denim shorts.

“what’re you--”

“you coming or what?” you tease him as your hair billows around you, framing your face. your back is turned as you strip off your— eddie’s — hellfire club t-shirt. you’d insisted on borrowing his earlier because you wanted your own, and secretly, he wants it back just so he can keep your scent in his room. as it lands on the ground, eddie’s wide eyes trail up your bare body, which gets smaller and enveloped in darkness as you walk away from him.

“fuck it,” he curses under his breath, quick and clumsy in his movements to follow your lead. he contemplates whether or not to take off his boxers but the splash of the water makes him panic, so he runs in after you instead with them still on.

he gulps down the lump in his throat once he sees you floating on your back, eyes closed and brain shut off from the world. you look so peaceful that he doesn’t want to disturb you, but you open your eyes just to smile at him in a way that looks like more. eddie doesn’t know how to describe it, but there’s something different — maybe it’s the moonlight, perhaps it’s the weed, but he swears something shifts.

you swim over to him, splashing him on the way. in fits of giggles, the two of you play like little kids until the endorphins in eddie’s brain make him fearless. suddenly, he disposes of his inhibitions -- he can touch you again. fingertips dancing across your naked waist in retaliation, in innocent tickles, until the gesture feels almost obscene. after you calm down from your hushed, breathless laughter, eddie is hyper-aware of your naked form in front of him, obscured by the lake, but naked nonetheless.

after the upside-down, eddie’s been cautious. it’s against his very nature, but the nightmares hold him to a different standard. but the way you look at him right now makes him want to break free — he’s been good for too long now. two blinks and an exhale and he realizes that he feels lightheaded. maybe you are a river goddess after all.

you lean into him and it takes his breath away. with wide eyes, you look at him with something unfathomable. he’s about to kiss you, but you raise a finger to your lips. shhh.

rustling leaves and footsteps steal your attention from eddie for a few moments as he watches the gears in your brain turn, your ears fine-tuning from the sudden presence of another. when you look towards land, there’s nothing there.

“hawkins is definitely fucking haunted, huh?”

“it’s that damn hellfire cult,” eddie jokes. he’s relieved to hear your laugh, but part of his spirit is broken from the sudden burst in his bubble. he thinks that maybe he’s still high enough to kiss you. maybe.

but you swim to shore before he even has time to think. the humid july air licks your wet skin as you shiver, draping a blanket from eddie’s truck bed around you as you watch him come back to you. he follows your lead, covering himself up with a blanket as he plops down in the grass next to you.

“what’ve you been waiting for, eds?” you ask him slowly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean.”

it’s this time that you look at him, actually look at him, with your libertine gaze muted under coquettish lashes, mouth pulled into a deceptive, innocent pout. you know exactly what you’re doing. eddie has a hint of it, too, but he doesn’t have the usual confidence that carries his eccentric personality. no, with you, all of his walls are torn down without as much as you trying. the mere proximity of you makes his stomach drop.

he gulps. tries out that cocky attitude of his that he normally parades. he’s high enough, anyway.

“gotta be more specific, sweetheart.”

at this point, you can’t wait any longer. the moment between blinking your lashes at him and closing in the gap between you feels like an hour for him, but a split second for you. but when it happens, when he feels your soft lips on his tasting of sweetness with a hint of weed and mint, he takes the lead that you’ve been secretly prompting him of — strong, silver-adorned hands gripping your jaw as he moves into your space.

you’ve wanted him long enough to not care at how you’re perceived at this moment, which is a miracle that you’re willing to unpack at a later date. when you kiss him, you think that maybe you could consume, be the succubus for once. how beautiful he is when he’s all over your mouth.

you stumble in your balance, too lost in his lips to even be aware of your own body. when you’re conscious of yourself again, you unravel the blanket draped around your shoulders to set beneath you, leaning backward onto its soft cloth. eddie follows your lead and descends his kisses down your throat to suckle on your collarbone. he wishes he could bottle up every sound out of your mouth for later.

“was that specific enough?” you whisper, pulling away. you grin at him and it’s like the moonlight illuminates your face and nothing else. his giant brown eyes trail your bare face and your chest, and he remembers that you’re fully naked under him. and jesus christ, he’s fully naked above you besides the stupid striped blanket bunched around his hips.

“think so,” he grins.

he resumes kissing your mouth, using his teeth to nip you in a way that leaves the slightest red mark, but not enough to linger. you’re still too elusive for him to know whether or not a lovebite would be acceptable, but god knows he’d love to mark you as his.

your tiny mewls encourage him further, so he presses his lips onto your collarbone, then your chest again, until he suckles onto your nipple with eagerness. you moan in response, gripping his dark locks from his scalp as hard as you can. your eagerness makes him harder. he has to tell himself to calm down, convince himself not to completely rut against your thigh, but god, it’s so hard.

“stop playing with me,” you whine in desperation.

“isn’t that what you wanted, huh?” eddie taunts you. his anxiety has dissipated and he’s himself again, that little shit. grinning his little fangs at you before he gets your permission to devour you completely. and you thought you were the succubus.

“was just trying to get a rise outta you, eds. i need you. now,” you demand, bucking your hips upwards as you tug at his still-damp curls. “’m not gonna fuckin’ beg.”

“mm, but what if that’s what’ll get me to do anything to you?”

you let out an irritated huff. two can play at that game.

without a warning, you rise from the ground to flip eddie onto his back, switching your positions. now, you straddle him, the moonlight from the lake slightly backlighting your silhouette in a way that makes you look like a vision from heaven. it’s funny how much eddie wants you — wants you so bad that his mouth is dry from all that thirst but he realizes he’s salivating from the sight of you alone.

you’re on top of him, his naked body, and his dick is hard and raised to hit the small trail of the lining of his stomach. he doesn’t have the time to blush or be embarrassed, so he merely sets his ringed fingers on your hips while he gazes up at you.

“not so used to being controlled, munson?” you tease.

“not used to… much,” he croaks with honesty. his high makes him vulnerable around you. he doesn’t care. “’s been a while.”

“really?”

“mhm.”

“y’know, as the hotshot dungeon master and all, i thought you’d be getting the most pussy.”

“please. i barely have the time. and the time i do have has been for you. ever since you stepped foot in hawkins, i’ve wanted to make time for you.”

“shut up. not the eddie munson getting all soft for me.”

he’s about to retaliate with one of his smart-ass responses but you grind your pussy onto his hard length and it makes him shiver completely. the grip his hands have on your hips get even tighter, clutching you as if you’re about to flee.

“excited, are we?”

“hurry up before i change my mind.”

it’s a first for both of you — this spontaneous intimacy, this lust that each of you is acting upon despite the bottled-up desires lasting for months on both ends. neither of you had ever made the assumption that the two of you would hook up despite the thought lingering in the back of your minds. and tonight, it was only to become a reality.

he pushes his cock into you gently, easily losing himself once he feels how warm and tight you are while you hold back tears from the feeling of his thickness. maybe it’s because you’re high, but you think this is what it feels like — divinity in its purest form.

“you’re so beautiful,” eddie slurs into your neck when he rises his upper body while he pushes into you, stamina at a sudden all-time high.

“you are,” you breathlessly reply.

he’s mesmerized by the way you ride him, the languid shift of your hips as your cunt pulsates around his cock, gripping him like a vice. he brings his hands to cradle your lips and you shiver from the cool silver of those damn rings of his. the feeling of his fingertips dancing around your sides, rising to palm your bouncing breasts.

with a grin, you grind your body forward and moan lewdly. he can’t take it — he nearly bursts right then and there if it isn’t for the fact that he switches your positions.

even in his domination, he’s still gentle, still handling you like you’re a fallen seraphim. you huff at him and buck your hips up aggressively to report otherwise — that you want to be treated roughly, that you want to achieve a certain level of catharsis with his passion.

eddie seems to understand at least a part of it considering the depth and speed of his thrusts, ramming into you mercilessly as you cry out in pleasure.

“holy— shit—”

“eddieeee, think ‘m gonna cum soon,” you gasp as you writhe underneath him. your body feels like it’s vibrating, so you use eddie as a reminder that you’re alive. tugs to the hair, slaps to the skin.

“yeah? cum for me, sweetheart. i wanna see it all over your face.”

his comment alone makes your heart pound even faster. it’s fitting, really, considering that the moment you want to say anything, you realize how much you want to impress him. how much you adore him, how much of those hours of examining him in his quieter state during senior year physics had paid off. he really is a sweetheart, that eddie munson. how could anyone say otherwise?

“oh, god, that feels so good—”

you gasp softly, keening into the warmth of his palm on your face as you kiss his fingers, taking them knuckle-deep into your mouth before he even has the idea to ask. his jaw is slack, watching you.

with a pop, he lets go of your mouth so that he can drag his canines against the swell of your throat, arching along with the rest of your body under him. gripping the towel underneath you, your other hand tangled in his hair, you whine softly.

“yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, and you swear that the raspy sound of his voice, breathless, contributes to the blatant intoxication you have from his touch.

it’s like you’ve gone dumb, your breath rugged and head spinning. he’s lifted himself up now so that he’s supporting his body with his knees. eddie spreads your legs wider, hands gripping your thighs and pulling them upward for easier access. at this angle, you think you’re about to lose it.

there’s no sweeter sound in the world than the sound of you begging for him.

“eddie,” you whine. “oh my god—”

“you gonna let go for me?”

“y-yes. fuck, i’m gonna—”

“fuck— fuck! shit, i’m close, too,” he grunts.

he widens his eyes at the sounds coming from your mouth and suddenly his hands are over your mouth as he chuckles breathlessly.

“y’gonna wake the ghosts up, baby.”

“shut up,” you muffle underneath him. he’s barely holding you down, so you take his hand in yours and move it to your throat.

he squeezes slightly, just enough for that sweet head rush to flow through your fucked-out head. you swear you lose your vision for a second when the threshold comes. it’s tectonic, earth-shattering, the way his cock plunged into you so deeply. you nearly wail as you orgasm. how fragile you are, his poor little thing. underneath the moonlight the slickness of your skin makes you look like you’d been washed ashore.

within seconds, eddie is able to release himself with a guttural groan, his head buried into your shoulder, soft curls tickling the underside of your chin. his hair is still a bit damp, so it’s a cooling sensation. he kisses you right then, swallows up your exhales while your naked chest heaves up and down to calm down from the adrenaline.

eddie attempts to get up but his legs are slightly disoriented. he’s too drunk on your body to leave it, anyways.

he decides to bury his head into your chest, breathing heavily as he watches the swell of your belly move up and down as you breathe with him.

“do you wanna see a movie with me on saturday?”

“you’re asking me out?” you chuckle.

“obviously.”

“thought you’d never ask, munson.”

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬!

#reposting bc it isnt in the tags sry #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson oneshot

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cicada-candy · 1 month

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Renovating Can Be More Dangerous Than It Seems:

this is Quick And Bad but moose @moosemonstrous has infected me with their Eli Was A Darkholder Hc and this just sorta spawned in my files idk what to tell you

#its 3am agaiiiiin why am i like thisssssss #johnny blaze #hyper-hellfire #my art #robbie reyes #ghost rider #cw scopophobia #cw eye contact #i also have Real Art for this cooking. will finish tmmrw tho it is To Bed With Me

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heartbreakgrill · 6 months

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Black Paint; Vessel (Sleep Token)

a/n: i am so fucking proud of this and i hope you absolutely love it. pls don't anyone tell brittany or else i'll fucking kms. thx.

description: brittany broski and friends go see sleep token. the group's energy catches the attention of the band.

warnings: alcohol, smut, cringe wattpad y/n moment.

“Hey, guys, welcome back to the Broski report. I’m your host, Brittany Broski.”

She rambled the words out breathlessly, smile void on her face. I stifled a laugh from the seat beside her, especially as I knew the camera frame would then focus on me.

She slammed her palms down onto the table, peering over at me with a blank expression, “Bitch.”

“I know,” I shrugged. My lips were pursed together, shoulders shaking as small giggles forced their way out of my nose.

“Bitch!” She tilted her head from the microphone so as not to disturb the sound mix.

I pressed a hand to my lips, dying of laughter now. “I know!”

“Listen,” she pointed at the screen behind us, “there is no fucking time for introductions because this bitch…just ruined my life by introducing me to yet another GROUP masked men I will not and can not have!”

“I know,” I nodded solemnly, still giggling. “I’m so sorry for what I have done to you.”

“Sleep Token,” Brittany yelled. I flinched from the volume, eliciting a soft, “Oh!”

“Sleep Token, guys,” she repeated. “Listen…before we even begin, we have a disclaimer for you horny sluts.”

I licked my lip as I silenced my laughter, looking seriously to the camera. “We do not condone the search for the identity of this band. Let them exist peacefully. If you know who they are, and you comment it on either of our platforms, anywhere, you will be blocked. Be respectful, shut the fuck up, and keep the mystery alive, kay?”

“Kay. Moving on! Sleep Token!”

It was my first time being on Brittany’s podcast. I was honored to have been asked, considering she didn’t often have anyone join her. But, considering I’d introduced her to the band I was currently hyper-fixating on, she needed me to provide my personal testimony. We spent most of the video appreciating their music, pointing out our favorite drum parts, lyrics, and Vessel vocals. Of course, we thirsted over the band, too. Why wouldn’t we have? They were hot as fuck and we were just girls.

And, of course, the video blew up. Her podcast segments normally did, but this one reached new numbers even she could not have predicted. At one point, trending on TikTok was a video of me saying, “I would literally let this man do dirty, nasty, terrible things to me that my mom would disown me for. Things only bitches did in that fucking town of Sodom and Gamora. God would literally come down and rain hellfire over my apartment after I got done with that man.”

I wasn’t necessarily embarrassed by the videos that came out after my clip went viral, but it was a little silly. I just hoped the band didn’t have secret accounts that they stalked fans on. I would never want to know that- but Ijust hoped and prayed it wasn’t sure.

Soon after we posted the video, the band announced a new leg of a North American tour.

And, of course, we spent a shit load of money to get tickets.

The months drug on before it was finally time for the concert.

“Shot?”

Brittany held out the glass vial towards me, a knowing smile- brows raised, round eyes suggestive- egging me on. Not that I needed it- tonight was the perfect night to get trashed. Of course, with Brittany, that was most night’s. When we had filmed for the podcast? Oh, we were smashed.

“Duh, bitch.”

I took it from her hold, wrapped my forearm around hers, and shared a low cheer before taking the shot. Our other friend Sarah Baska, was ordering herself something at the bar. Meanwhile, the liquid burned the back of my throat, sliding down my chest in it’s fiery path. A natural lightweight, I felt warm immediately. It was also just really hot in here.

I then ordered some mixed drink. Sarah got more, harder liquor, as per usual. And, Brittany did another handful of shots for the road. After, we headed for the stairs, giggly and anticipatory. We spent extra money on a private box, both to shake our asses in a spacious area, and to be able to enjoy the concert without being bothered by fans the entire time. It was nice getting photos with them and meeting people who looked up to all of us. But, tonight, it would be nice to just exist as normal people at a normal concert. Besides, we were all here for Sleep Token. I wanted them to get all the worship that they deserved.

Not that this was a normal concert. This was, in any devoted fan’s words, a night of worship to the god of Sleep. This was a ritual. Tonight, I would be shaking my ass extra hard for the little dancing vessel’s on that stage who were so fucking attractive, I could drool.

We found our seats quickly. I was grateful for the space away from the thick, sweaty crowds- it was hot in here, even though I was wearing next to nothing. I really didn’t want my makeup- done heavier than normal thanks to Britt- to run. I did, however, hope that Vessel’s paint would smear a little extra from this heat. That was hot.

We sat down in our seats for a few minutes, gushing about finally being at this ritual. I sipped at my drink, finishing it faster than I thought possible. I tended to drink heavier when my pulse rate was this high. My chest was really warm now, and I enjoyed it. It loosened me up quite a bit. I wasn’t really introverted, but I had anxiety when it came to these situations. Liquid courage was always nice to have.

I shed my jacket on the back of my chair, exposing my midriff and bare arms. It cooled me down a bit. Brittany was rambling on about Vessel and some video she’d saw on TikTok the night before. I went to reply to her, to ask to see the video, when a staff member interrupted us, “Excuse me, ladies-”

We looked up him expectantly. His voice was quiet against the loud chatter of the crowd and the pre-show playlist thumping through the speakers. I leaned in close to him and strained to hear his next words.

“These seats have food and drink service. Would you like anything?” He graciously held out a menu.

We nodded enthusiastically and ordered another round of shots and cocktails. Just as he returned with the tray of drinks, after we occupied ourselves by watching a handful of videos on Brittany’s phone, the lights dimmed for the opener. I tipped the server as I joined the crowd, on my feet, hooting and hollering. We quickly down our shots.

The opener was pretty good. Brittany, Sarah, and I danced along to the songs, clapped when gestured to, and took a few embarrassing pictures for us to regret in the morning. I liked to spin in circles as I danced, rotating my hips to the beat. I made a stank face while doing so, drink raised to the sky like an offering. Brittany and Sarah would hype me up, pretending to swipe stacks of cash over me like rain, leaning into my momentum with hollers. The more I moved, the more the alcohol took over. I was completely lost in the music.

When the opener took a bow, Brittany, Sarah, and I screamed, loudly. Loud enough that the opener noticed us. They waved up to our seats. I jumped up and down, splashing my drink over the railing, on the floor below. I waved wildly. The opener then blew a kiss and I nearly melted. I felt like a little girl at a One Direction concert. It was awesome.

As the crew began tearing down the openers set, and putting together Sleep Token’s, more music streamed through the speakers. The server scurried off to get us more drinks.

Because the opener had noticed us- twice- a few people in the crowd turned to look up at our seats. Now that the overhead lights were back on in the venue, a bunch of fans started calling out our names, waving excitedly. As they did, I Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing and the energy in the venue lifted completely.

I set my drink down in my cup holder, needing both hands to go absolutely feral over the song choice. As the first verse began, I grabbed Brittany’s fingers in my clutch, serenading her through viscous screams. I swayed from foot to foot, hitting each beat with my hips. As Miss Houston sang, “My lonely heart calls…” I grabbed the railing from behind me, leaned myself over it, back arched and head upside down, towards the crowd. Everyone freaked out at the stupid move I did. I was sure to see clips of it in the morning.

Then, the chorus started, and we jumped around like raging lunatics. We clapped our way through the song, entertaining the crowd like we were the real show. Eventually, the crew seemed to be finishing up their work onstage. The music started to fade, the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up with bright blue. I picked my drink back up, screeching my head off as the music started.

I swear to god that the band could hear us screaming from our side of the venue, jumping around like children, holding onto each other like we just might fall over. We were louder than, probably, the rest of the crowd. They started with Chokehold, which made me nearly lose my sanity. Vessel strutted out onto the stage like a literal god, rings shining in the light, blackened skin already slick with sweat. I bounced up and down to every beat, waving my hands with the crowd, spinning in circles, downing my drink like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t focus too much on how good he looked, caught up in the music. But, god, did I know he looked insane.

At one point, Brittany and Sarah turned their phone flash on. They switched between that and taking videos on their phones, giving me all the spotlight. They made it like I was the fucking main character of the concert. And, I loved every second of it.

At one point, the bassist noticed our flashing lights and mini dance circle. He pointed up at us, nodding his head in appreciation. I screamed my head off in response, gripping the railing and whipping my hair. He raised his hands like he had to defend himself from my energy and slunk off to the other side of the stage. Brittany pointed the camera in my face, “How do you feel?!”

“I’m shitting my pants right now!”

The concert went by quickly, too quickly. IV interacted with us a bunch, too, especially after he’d scream his lyrics and we’d go wild. Vessel, unfortunately, avoided our side of the stage. He was so lost in the music which was, honestly, amazing to witness. His silly dances combined with his insane vocals made for a great show.

By the time The Offering started up, Brittany, Sarah, and I were absolutely trashed. I wasn’t too far gone because I was started to sweat out what was in my system. Yet, I was nowhere near sober. Anyways, maybe it was because we were being obnoxious and loud due to our drunken states- Vessel finally noticed us. It was at the beginning of the song, when he sang, “Take a bite…’ It came out like an animalistic growl, chilling the audience.

He pointed his hands towards our balcony, though I’d like to think he was really just pointing at me, and whispered the sultry lyric. I melted to the ground, head thrown back as I yelled. Brittany grabbed my bicep to ensure I wouldn’t fall any further. She and Sarah hoisted me back up. We cackled into each other’s shoulders annoyingly. Then, as the drums picked up, we began moving with the rhythm again.

Before we knew it, the concert was over. Vessel raised his hands in a bow. Then, he looked around the crowd, found our seats again, and shot us a small smile. I took the opportunity to blow him a kiss, enthusiastically throwing it through the air towards him. He grinned in response, looking to his feet as he shook his head, before slinking backstage.

I plopped back down into my seat, already cracking open a water bottle. My chest heaved for air. I didn’t even know how to process anything that had happened. All I knew was, “I need to eat so many fries right now,” I breathed out, sweat slicking my skin. I sipped the water slowly. I could feel myself sobering up more and more. I was a little more conscious, but so damn hungry.

Sarah was talking to some people next to us who she knew. Brittany sat beside me. “Vessel literally wants you,” she said, nonchalantly, like she had read it in that morning’s paper. “Like…holy fuck.”

I cracked a smile and wiped a bead of sweat off of my brow. I checked my reflection in my phone. Luckily, my makeup had stayed intact. I replied with a silly tone, “Don’t even get me excited like that. It’s rude.”

“No, cause, he kept looking up here after The Offering,” Brittany said in a matter of fact manner, again.

“Really?” I sat up in my seat, “No way! I must have been dancing too hard to notice.”

“Oh, you were shaking your ass,” she snickered with a grin.

“Ugh, he’s fucking sexy,” I continued on. We stared at the stage for a moment in one of those silences where neither drunk girl could really formulate any relevant response. Then, I kind of tossed my weary arms around, “Well, doesn’t matter. I bet he, like, doesn’t even date.”

“No, but he def fucks,” Brittany emphasized. We leaned into each other, laughing loudly.

Sarah turned to us at the sound. She plopped down beside me and went to add to our conversation, but the familiar staff member who’d been supplying our drinks was interrupting again. Though, this time, he didn’t have a tray of alcohol.

“Excuse me, ladies,” his favorite phrase. We all looked up at him, curious. He didn’t have to speak so loud, considering the venue was clearing out, so it was easier to hear. Whitney Houston was playing again.

“The band is wondering if you’d like to come backstage for some refreshments?” He asked so casually that it took my brain a moment to process the information.

I managed to play it really cool, but internally, I was basically shitting my pants. Brittany, however, gaped at the worker. She slowly turned her head towards Sarah and I with a wild look in her eyes, seeming like she might scream at any given moment.

Sarah snorted, “What fucking fanfiction did we just get thrown into?!”

“I don’t know, but I fucking love it,” I gushed back, staring at the worker. “What the fuck.” He shrugged back at me.

Sarah shook her head with an amused grin, waving off the worker, “Listen, yall go, have fun. My friends offered to let us go out with them, so I’m gonna split off. I don’t think I could mentally handle meeting them right now. I think I’d, like, puke all over them.”

“But, then you could say that you’ve puked on Sleep Token!” Brittany smacked Sarah’s shoulder, reaching across my body.

“Go!” Sarah shoved back, squishing me further between the two of them. “Go, so you can say that you puked on Sleep Token.”

“Yeah, I fucking will,” I pushed up out of my seat, an eager energy in my bones.

Brittany and I followed the worker down the stairs, clutching each other’s arms. He ushered us through the remaining crowd gently, though we had to stop to take numerous photos- and make the occasional TikTok- with fans. They gushed about our dance moves, our podcast episode. It made everything feel even giddier. We eventually made it up to the stage, where we were guided behind these large black curtains disguising the dimly lit area of the sides.

The crew worked hard on getting everything packed up, put away. We skirted between all of them, trying not to get in the way of it all. I kept checking my reflection in my phone’s front camera to ensure I looked okay. Most of the sweat had soaked itself up and my perfume was long lasting. Hopefully that was enough to rizz up Vessel. Not that I was counting on that. It would be awesome, but I was actually excited to have a conversation with all of them. I would soon learn that was not what he wanted from me tonight.

We went down another set of stairs and stopped before a closed door. Behind it, we could hear music playing over a speaker, a few sets of voices cheering and chattering. The worker knocked, kindly, and the voices cut themselves off.

“Come in!” A thick British accent called out.

I took a deep, drunken breath as the worker turned the door knob. And, my stomach dropped when he pulled open the door.

Sleep Token sat, lounged out across their dressing room, on various couches. They wore those familiar masks, their stage costumes- save for a few layers- and clutched some drinks in their blackened hands. My eyes found Vessel last, who was leaning against the counter of the vanity, a drink sat beside his left hand. He had shed his cloak, so visible to us was his paint-smeared chest and back. I tried not to let my eyes wander too much- but they did.

III stood from the couch, excitedly dancing his way over to the door where we stood. The worker abandoned us. “‘Ello, darlings!” III called out.

He hugged Brittany first, bent down because of his insane height. As he did, I couldn’t rip my eyes from the slits of Vessel’s mask. I somehow knew that he was staring at me- probably because his distant gaze burned my skin. Then, III was pulling me into his chest, “It’s so lovely to meet you…”

“Brittany,” she gestured to herself, then to me, “Y/n. Dude, thanks so fucking much for having us! We had an absolute blast. Your performance is just- wow!”

IV and II approached us next, as III pulled us a bit further into the room. III busied himself with pouring us each a drink as we introduced ourselves to IV and II.

“We’re so glad you had a good time worshiping,” IV cracked, hugging Brittany, “makes it all the more worth it.”

I grinned at his words as he embraced me, too, still occasionally glancing at Vessel. II added on, “Sure you’re exhausted from all that dancing. Have a seat.”

III wrapped an arm around Brittany’s shoulder, passing a drink to her hand, as he brought her onto the couch beside him. IV and II moved to stt back where they had been, probably assuming I was following. I clutched nervously to the drink III had given me. I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to not act stupid in front of men I wanted to fuck. The nerves were crashing down me instead, making me stoic, overthinking my own breathin.

I looked back at Vessel, again, who had been quiet thus far. He held out a hand, an offer for me to come sit beside him. I hesitated, for just a moment, before taking it. His fingers were warm, even his rings, and I noticed that black paint smudged itself across my skin as I took my hand from his. I leaned up against the counter beside him as I admired the paint.

III, IV, and II struck up a lively conversation with Brittany, full of teases and easy topics. I watched until I felt that burning stare on the side of my face again. I looked up at Vessel, a small smile forming across my lips. He returned the expression.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/n,” his voice was just as deep as his singing tone. It sent a shiver down my spine.

I shifted on my feet, glanced around, before returning his gaze again. “You, too, Vessel,” I took a sip of the drink in my hand.

He chuckled down at me. My knees rocked. “So…you like Whitney Houston, yeah?.”

My face turned beat red at the realization that he had seen a lot more than I hoped. I pressed a hand over my face, groaning, “Oh, god. You saw that?”

Vessel brushed his shoulder against mine. More paint took it’s place there in my skin. “I saw everything.”

I crinkled my nose, “Ugh, that was just…I don’t claim to be a good dancer, just so you know.”

Vessel shrugged, “I beg to differ.”

Shaking my head at his words, I waved him off, “Don’t even…I just, like, throw myself around like a fucking rag doll.”

“No,” he drug out the word, deep voice reverberating in my chest, “no, you have some rhythm in those hips.” His head tilted down as he eyed my body.

There was a beat of silence that passed between us. I examined his mask. I think I knew then that I wouldn’t be leaving until this man fucked me senseless, but my foggy, drunken brain thought still that maybe I was just being delusional.

It wasn’t until he opened his mouth, again, that I was certain. He drug his tongue over his bottom lip, as though he was searching for the right words to say. My eyes followed the wet, pink organ with a blank stare.

Vessel thought for another moment before leaning his mouth down towards my ear. He pressed his hand against my hip, fingers curling around my bare skin exposed there. His breath was hot against the side of my neck, though I shivered again. “I want to see how those hips would move on me.”

I flushed, bright red again, the alcohol making the heat on my blotchy skin worse. Vessel pulled away, a smirk ever-present on those pink lips, black staining the outer edges. It took all of my self control not to lick it clean, right then and there. I wanted him- needed him. And, he knew it.

Vessel searched my eyes with that curl in his lips. I was unable to come up with a proper response. But, I think he found what he was looking for in my dilated pupils and rising chest. “Be a good girl for me? Yeah?”

Vessel offered up his hand again. I entwined my fingers in his, my own smile finally finding its place on my mouth. Vessel took my cup and chugged it, tossed it into the trash, and led us from the room.

I followed like a puppy-dog, hot on his heels. He guided me so carefully, looking back occasionally to ensure I was okay. Then, he threw open a door at the end of the hallway we traveled down. It was dark in the room, with only a small lamp in the corner to illuminate our hushed desperations. Vessel locked the door behind us after he ushered me inside. He spun me around and forced himself against my chest, pressing my back against the door. It knocked the wind right out of me. My chest rose and fell as I took rapid, deep breaths. Vessel held me by my hip, again, thumb brushing against my bare skin gently.

“Is this okay?” He whispered as he brought a hand to my face, cupping my cheek.

I barely nodded, entranced by the stare coming from behind his mask. I had enough focus to touch my hands to his chest, though, running my fingers up and down his toned stomach. The paint smeared beneath my knuckles, revealing more of his pale skin. I watched it mix with our sweat with hopeless admiration in my gaze.

Vessel looked down at my hands, too, a smirk still present on his face. But, then he forced my chin up, so my eyes were on his mask, and said, “Use your words, darling.”

“Y-yes,” I shuddered, voice breathless.

Vessel pressed me harder against the door as our lips met, tongues clashing against teeth, hungrily. We moved together so easily, entranced by the other’s taste. I gripped at his sides, pulling me into him, arching my back to press my chest against his. Vessel’s hold tightened, too, and he ground my hips against his.

I felt him get hard, quickly, the loose material of his pants allowing his erection to fully grind against my thigh. He was whiney, all gasping breaths, low moans, as I drug my fingers down his chest, dipped them through his waistband. I nearly got to feel him, but Vessel grabbed my hand harshly in his, slamming it up against the door, above my head. My eyes shot back open in surprise. I don’t remember closing them.

“S’all about you right now, darling,” he demanded, words against my lips.

Vessel shoved his head into the crevice of my neck, nipping and tonguing at my flesh. My eyes dropped shut again, head hitting the door in a way that would probably hurt tomorrow. I had a feeling all of me would hurt tomorrow. But, I didn’t care.

Vessel drug his fingers up my arms, leaving goosebumps in his path, trails of black paint like a roadmap amongst my freckles. He slid the straps of my dress down past my shoulders. Then, he kissed his way down to the arch of my breasts. He rolled the material between his teeth and sunk to the floor as he drugged it down my body. Vessel was on his knees below me.

Vessel looped an arm around either of my thighs, nearly pulling my entire weight onto his shoulders. I clutched onto the top of his head, feeling some of his hair slip out from the cap he wore beneath his mask. It was soft, though just a bit sweaty. He glanced up at my bare breasts, smirking devilishly now

He admired my face as he said, “I watched you worship me all night. It’s my turn to pray at your altar.” STOPPED HERE.

My head hit the door again as Vessel sunk his tongue into me. He had managed to tear my underwear down with his teeth and they were now laying across the room. I ground my hips into his face, back arching each time his nose would then rub against my sweet spot. I tried to be quiet at first, though small gasps and moans slipped from my bitten lips.

But, then, Vessel stopped, eliciting a whine from me. He chuckled, lips slick from me. He darted his tongue out, smirking as he cleaned his mouth. He tilted his head in disappointment, “You were so loud for me earlier, darling. What happened to that good girl? I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”

I nodded, dazed, brows furrowed, fingers digging at his hair. The cap had fallen off his head at this point, but the mask managed to stay on. I was grateful it did. The mystery alive energized both of our primal desires..

Vessel watched my face as he pressed his tongue back up into me, running the tip of it down my entire core. I moaned, loudly, back arched into the cold air, nipples hard from the temperature and arousal.

He chuckled into me, making my thighs shake around his head. Vessel pried me back open with his fingers bruising my skin. He continued on until I was close. I vocalized my point of no return, and he hurriedly spoke, “Don’t. Be a good girl and wait. For me, okay?”

I nodded wildly, clenching my stomach to deny myself of the orgasm. Vessel gently set my feet back on the ground. He guided me by the hips towards a counter. Easily, he picked me up and set me on it. It was freezing cold against my bare skin, but his warm hands, tongue, were on me soon enough. I took the opportunity to unlatch his belt, fingers moving hurriedly. Vessel moved to help me, tugging the pants down his thighs.

Vessel then pushed me back from him, taking control again. He pushed my legs open further with his bare knee. Then, he grabbed me by the hips and tugged me down till my back was flat against the counter. His hand splayed across my thigh as he pushed himself inside of me.

He was sloppy, quick in desperation as he fucked me. But, every thrust he pushed into me was strong, deep. Vessel wrapped my legs around his waist, securing me by the hip. His other hand drug itself up my chest until his fingers were wrapped around my throat. Black paint smeared most of my skin. There was even a ring around his mouth where the paint had transferred from his skin to my own. I don’t know how we would manage to keep this rendezvous a secret from everyone else with the state we were both in. But, right now, I couldn’t care.

Vessel leaned himself overtop of me, his forehead against my chest. Though, he was dominating me, he was so caught up in the pleasure that he was starting to quickly come undone. I touched his back, nails digging into his skin. He tossed his head back at the sensation, neck exposed to me. I eyed the veins protruding from his skin.

He smirked at me when he noticed I was staring at his neck. He growled, “Take a bite.”

I held one hand, tightly, to his shoulder, keeping him steady as he fucked me. But, I gripped the back of his head with the other. I was slow at first, nipping at his neck gently. Vessel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy with each bite I took. I was close, too. So, I opened my jaw further, taking a pinch of his skin between my upper and lower canines. I bit down, hard.

“Fuck!”

He quickly pulled out and came on my stomach. As he did, I felt myself come undone. Vessel pressed his forehead against mine as we rode out our high. We came down from the top and he gave me a sloppy kiss.

There was a bitter cold left on my skin as he stepped back. I hugged myself, finally taking in the black paint covering my skin. “Oh, god,” I laughed.

Vessel pulled his pants up. He looked at my body, grinning, “Fuck. That’s so hot. Darling, if we had more time…”

“I know,” I smiled up at him.

“Here, there’s a bathroom over here,” Vessel spoke as he finished buckling his belt. He offered me his hand.

I followed him into the side room. He found a washcloth on the side of the sink, clean and unused, and wet it with warm water. Vessel gently pried my hands from covering my body and busied himself with wiping down my skin. He focused on what would be visible: My arms, neck, hands, face. I watched him while he worked. It was fucking hot when he was dominating, disgustingly dirty. But, this, this caring demeanor? I’d fuck him again in a heartbeat.

When he was finished, he rounded up my dress, shoes, and underwear. He turned away, without a question, while I dressed. I was no longer nervous, so I wouldn’t have minded if he watched. But, he was respectful.

“Okay,” I breathed out, pulling my final dress strap back up and over my shoulder.

Vessel faced me. I was finally able to take in his face and had to cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. He frowned, slightly, confused by my laughter. “What? What is it?”

I touched his shoulders, forcing him to face the mirror. His head pulled back in shock at his appearance.

I kept laughing and Vessel peered down at me with a tilted head. “Keep laughing, darling.”

“I’m sorry,” I shrugged, “it’s fo fucking funny.”

“What’s funny?”

I yelped, trying to duck out of the way as he jolted towards me. He caught me by the waist, rattling me around in his hold. I giggled, loudly against his chest, trying to twist out of his hold. His mouth was near my ear as he teased me, “Not so funny now, huh?”

I rested my forehead to his shoulder in my fit of laughter. Vessel calmed his movements, just holding me against him now. “It just goes to show the mess you make out of me,” he murmured against my ear, lips pressed to the shell.

I looked up at him and pointed a warning finger, “Don’t do that.”

“I know,” he huffed as he tossed his head back in frustration. “We should be getting back.”

“Sadly,” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

He admired my face for a few moments, silent, until he smiled softly, “Can I get your number?”

“Maybe,” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, I kind of like to just fuck and dump, ya know?”

“I won’t let you do that, darling,” his voice dropped low again.

“Okay, you’ve gotta stop doing that or I’m never going home.”

Vessel cupped my cheek in his hand, nearly void of paint, “I’d be okay with that.”

“I’m gonna walk away now.”

Vessel didn’t let go, however, as I made a move to step towards the bathroom door. In fact, he held me tighter. He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Can’t go anywhere looking that, darling,” he twisted me around to face the mirror, long arms cradling my waist.

I reached for the washcloth and wiped off my face. I faced him again and cleaned up his mouth, just enough so that it wasn’t completely obvious he’d eaten me out. We spent another moment teasing each other, eliciting more giggles from my throat. But, we figured we should get back.

So, he took my hand again and led us back down the hallway. I flushed red as soon as the door was pulled open, considering the entire band and Brittany snapped their heads towards us.

“Way to leave your sister!” Brittany exclaimed, holding up a cup of what could only be whiskey. “Dude, you’re missing out on some insane stories right now. Come, sit.” She patted the couch next to her.

I glanced up at Vessel as I took my hand from his. II, IV, and III greeted me with kind eyes and small greetings. “Hey, sorry,” I said as I plopped onto the couch. “He was just showing me the, uh…”

We hadn’t come up with an excuse. So, my words fell off my tongue with no resolution. Vessel shoved his hands in his pockets, quickly stuttering out, “Backstage. Just the backstage area. She wanted to see how everything works.”

Brittany nodded, oblivious to the elephant in the room. “Dope. You’ll have to show me next.”

“We can do a group tour,” IV offered.

Everyone agreed, enthusiastically, and we all stood to pile out the door. III and I were the last ones seated. I met his dark eyes, smiling kindly at him. His gaze dropped to my thighs, brows raising beneath his mask suggestively.

I followed his eyes down. Where my dress had ridden up my thighs was a long line of smeared paint, not to mention reddened hickies that were starting to sprout up. I pressed my lips together and quickly tugged the material down over my legs.

III patted my knee as he stood, “You were the one going crazy during The Offering, love.”

I gaped after him as his words lingered in the air before me. Vessel stood just beside the door, awaiting my presence. As III passed by him, he took Vessel by the chin and tilted his head.

He tsked at the bruising bite mark on Vessel’s neck. I shoved my face into my hands, face beyond burned.

III whispered, “Take a bite.”

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Brittany and I were hanging out, looking through concert videos with nostalgia, that she found out. I was nervous to tell her. Besides, Vessel and I were starting to see each other, so I didn’t want to expose his private life too much. I trusted her, but I just overthought it all. Apparently, though, I hadn’t enough overthinking.

I had just made a post on Instagram, making the photo we took with the band the cover photo for a dump. It blew up immediately. Brittany and I were reading comments as they came in, dying of laughter at some of the shit people were saying.

“No, hand placement is so real!” Brittany exclaimed. She shoved her phone in my face, showing me the zoom-in of Vessel’s hand on my hip. I blushed and shoved it away. She kept scrolling.

“Wait,” her voice trailed off.

I glanced at her and watched as her brows furrowed. She tapped around, zoomed in a bunch, scrolled through comments. I looked back to my phone just as a new comment began blowing up with responses and likes.

User- so is no one gonna talk about vessel’s paint on y/n’s thigh and her very obvious sex hair?

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

#sleep token!vessel x reader #sleep token x you #sleep token x reader #sleep token #sleep token smut #brittany broski

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