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#stranger things au
mimixmunson · 1 day
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Pierced. Eddie x Female reader. Smut. Blurb.
🍒 When you get your nipples pierced, you don’t tell Eddie that you’ve had them done. You’ve talked about it before and Eds has always seen neutral on the idea, he’s very much a ‘your body your choice’ guy when it comes to body modification. Especially after having several tattoos. So when he unhooks your bra to be met with two sparkling bars through the twins, his face is a picture. He can barely keep the drool in his mouth, looking down at them and back up at you in shock with the biggest smirk on his face. “Oh hello there..” He tries to hide it, but he bites down on his lip. “You can look but you can’t touch them baby, they’re still really fucking sore and the piercer said we can’t touch them and risk infection for like 10 weeks.” You tease, knowing he’s going to hate that rule. “Got to keep them clean and sparkly huh? Anything for my girl. But just so you know, when those 10 weeks are up.. my tongue is going to explore every part of them.. Especially since pierced nipples are even more sensitive. Which for you.. Is going to be a problem. Sensitive little thing.” He smirks once more as he whispers in your ear, running his hand through your hair and nipping at your earlobe, kissing down your neck. 🍒
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morganski-19 · 1 day
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The One with the Child
Robin and Nancy walk into the café after a long day of work. Stopping when they see Jonathan sitting on the couch reading a book with a toddler sitting next to him, playing with a toy. They share a confused look before walking around the couch.
“Hey Jon,” Nancy leads.
Jonathan looks up from his book. “Oh, hey guys. How was work?”
“Uh, fine,” Nancy says, still confused. “Just one, tiny, quick question.”
“Whose child is that?” Robin points at the toddler looking up at them with big eyes.
“Oh, right, this is Argyle’s niece, Stella. He’s in the bathroom, so I’m watching her for a minute.”
Robin flops on the armchair. “Oh, thank God. I thought that was just a random kid.”
Jonathan gives her a weird look. “Did you think I just stole a child? What gave you the impression that I would do that?”
Robin shrugs. “Someone could have just left the child here. You don’t know. That happens. You would be surprised how many times Steve has had to stay afterschool to sit with a kid whose parent forgot to come pick them up.”
“To be fair, my mom did that a few times when I was a kid.” Nancy pulls one of the other chairs closer. “Only a few times though.”
“My mom did that too. Happens when you’re a single mom.”
Argyle comes back from the bathroom, hair braided down his back. “Hey dudes. You meet Stella?” He sits down on the couch, Stella grabbing his arm and hiding behind it. “She’s a bit shy.”
“Robin thought I stole her.”
Robin makes a high-pitched noise. “I did not. I thought you were picked by a lazy parent to be entrusted with their child. That is far different than stealing.”
“Still doesn’t make it any better.”
Robin rolls her eyes, getting up to go order a coffee at the bar.
“Which sister is Stella’s mom?” Nancy asks, trying to change the conversation.
Argyle tries to get Stella to loosen her grip on his arm but fails. “Julia. She has a job interview in the city today so I’m watching her.”
“And you brought her here?” Robin sits back down with her coffee.
“Hey, this is a family friendly establishment until seven and by then she will be back with her mom. She should be done soon to come pick her up.”
Eddie walks into the café, waving as he orders a coffee at the bar. Doing a double take when he sits down, eyes wide.
“I know I’ve only known you guys for like a year but none of you had a secret kid, right?”
“No, this is my sister’s kid. I’m watching her for a few hours.”
Eddie relaxes in his seat. “Oh, thank God. I could not have dealt with that twice in one week.”
Nancy perks up. “Twice?”
“Yeah, remember my buddy Jeff from high school. Apparently, him and his girl are expecting. Sent me into a whole crisis.”
“Oh, that’s why you were cleaning your room a few days ago.”
“I’m offended that’s why you think I was cleaning, but you’re correct.”
“Why were you having a crisis?” Robin asks over her coffee. “It’s not like we’re not at an age where people we know start having kids.”
Eddie makes a large gesture. “That’s why I was having a crisis. It was the first one of my friends that is taking that next step in life. While I’m still stuck between two jobs, not in a relationship, and a giant fucking mess. Sorry,” he apologizes to Argyle.
“She’s two, she doesn’t know what that word means,” Argyle assures.
Steve comes into the café and sits on the chair next to Eddie. Covering his face in his hands. “If I see another first grader, it’ll be too soon.”
“Bad day.” Robin gives him a sympathetic look.
Steve nods. “Three kids had to be sent to the nurse because they were sick. Three, like visibly sick. They shouldn’t have even been sent in at all. And then the rest were just on edge and didn’t want to settle down after recess. And.” He finally spots Stella on the couch. “One of your sister’s kids?”
Argyle nods. “Yeah. Her mom should be here soon, so don’t worry.”
“I said first graders for a reason. They are monsters. What’s her name?”
“Stella. Do you want to say hi?” he asks her. Stella gives Steve a small wave.
Steve melts a little bit. “You have just made my whole day, Stella.”
A woman who looks a little like Argyle walks into the café. Argyle notices her and stands, picking up Stella from the couch. “Hey, Jules. How was the interview?”
“Pretty good. Thanks for watching her again, I appreciate it.” She takes Stella out of Argyle’s arms. “Did you have a good time with Uncle Argyle?” Stella nods into her mother’s shoulder. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”
Argyle shakes his head. “Not at all. Right Jon?”
“Yeah, not at all.”
Julia nods, finally realizing the rest of the group.
“Oh right, Julie, these are my friends. You’ve met some of them. Dudes, this is my sister Julia.”
The group gives a mix of greetings before going back to separate conversations. Julia says hello back before Argyle walks her out of the café.
“It was seriously no trouble watching her, it was nice to see her. And you.”
“I know. Wish I could stay more, but we got to get back.”
“If you need a place to stay, you can chill at our place. I’ll take the couch so you can have a bed.”
Julia shakes her head. “That sweet but I didn’t pack an overnight bag. If we leave now, we might make it before the next rush hour. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you and Jon.”
“Nonsense. You know you’re always welcome at our place.”
“When are you two finally going to cut the crap and get together already. The whole family’s been waiting for it.”
Argyle groans. “Tell me there’s not a betting pool.”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Jesus. I’m not sure we even ever will. He’s like the first best friend I’ve ever had, I don’t want to lose him over some stupid feelings.”
Stella coos, grabbing at her mom’s hair. “We should go before she starts getting fussy. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will. You might not believe me, but there’s more hope than you think there is. From an outsider’s perspective.”
“So, I can blame you when everything goes up in flames. Nice.” Julie gently slaps his arm. “Call me when you get back, alright.”
“I will. Wave goodbye to Uncle Argyle, Stella.”
“Bye, bye,” Steve whispers with a small wave.
Argyle smiles. “Bye, Stella. Nice seeing you both.”
They walk down the street to where Julia parked as Argyle returns to the café.
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1
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kookygranger · 2 days
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He Came From Hawkins
The day Steve Harrington's afterlife changed forever.
Ghost!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader
Series Masterlist
750 words
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The patter of rain against your bedroom window lulls you as you sit in front of an unorganised stack of books, the rug underneath you tickling at your thighs. You’d come upstairs looking for a particular book. One of your oral histories of the music scene in New York, but you can’t remember which, or even particularly why and now you think you might just take a mid-morning snooze.
Not an actual nap, just a moment or an hour to close your eyes and listen to the rain. You’re just about to get up from the floor, the soft cotton of your sheets calling you when you hear a noise downstairs.
It sounded like a voice, deep and confused.
Your front door is unlocked; there are no threats in your witch’s coven up in the mountains, but it wasn’t common for any of your sisters to come in uninvited. Everyone knew you valued your privacy. An introvert who wasn't always up for company.
You make your way downstairs, the wood creaking under your light steps as you descend slowly.
“Uh, hello?”
“Jesus fucking christ.” You stumble clutching at your heart that’s rapidly increased in pace. A young man is standing in your living room. “Wh–who are you?”
“Steve Harrington.” The boy reaches his hand out as if offering to shake yours before faltering and placing it back in his pocket. “I think I’m in the wrong place.”
“No shit.” You take him in, this boy who allegedly broke into a witch’s house in the middle of a well-established, secret coven. Your eyes flick from the moles on his exposed neck, the perfect quaff of his thick hair and widened hazel eyes, finally noticing the slight translucency to his form as he stands before you. “Oh, you’re a–“
“Ghost? Yeah.” He holds up a hand, face squinting as if to say what are you gonna do about it? “I was supposed to be like moving on to whatever comes next I guess.” He scratches his jaw, “I was just in this trailer back in Hawkins, saying goodbye. This witch, a good witch, was helping me say goodbye–and now I’m here.” He looks around your house. “This isn’t it is it? Like, the afterlife?” His eyes fall back on you, giving you a once over before smirking, “Not that I’m complaining, it’s just not what I expected.”
“No, you’re still in the land of the living…kind of.”
He nods, taking you in again, “You don’t look that shocked.”
Your shoulder shifts in a slight shrug, face showing little emotion, “I’m a witch too.”
“Oh, cool.” He smiles wide, a sureness in his features that prickles at your skin. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“No,” you shake your head, and he bites his lip. “I don’t see what business you could have here I’ve been borrowing this land for eight hundred years.”
“Right, well I just died last week so…where are we?” He looks around again, trying to get a glimpse of any recognisable landmarks outside of your window.
“Uh, Catskills.”
“Never been.” He frowns.
“Right.”
The ghost of Steve Harrington didn’t leave that morning, or the next. He wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go so, he stayed.
It was weird, even for a witch familiar with the unexplainable nature of the world. You didn’t really know how to help him, your experience of communing with spirits lacking. Steve said he didn’t mind. Told you with that disarming smile of his that he’d just hang out until he figured out what to do.
So, he did. He hung out.
He hung out while you pottered about your house, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, reading by the window with the afternoon light. He hung out as you cooked dinner and settled in front of your staticky TV in the evenings. He hung out as you watered your garden, looking on from the window as you nervously smiled at fellow coven members passing by, his gaze burning the back of your neck.
The ghost of Steve Harrington wasn’t leaving. In fact, he seemed pretty settled, growing in confidence every day with the amount he stared at you, unabashedly and with a smirk that made your body tense.
“Is there a problem?” You didn’t have to look up from the book you were reading to know he was doing it again.
“No. Just admiring the view.”
You shake your head, hiding your fluster with a look of agitation, “Any closer to figuring out your next move?”
“Nope.”
You bite your lip at the evident smile in his voice. “Great.”
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applejaax · 2 days
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now this one is for the shifting community. imagine Eddie is famous and Steve loves him so terribly bad that he shifts realities for him but not as his rockstar persona just regular ole Eddie Munson. When he shifts back to his original reality he ends up meeting his idle Eddie as well and the chemistry they have is too hard to ignore for Eddie so he asks Steve out. There’s just one little problem you see, the Eddie is in Steve’s desired reality misses him (he knows Steve’s a shifter so he misses the personality he brings to the Steve that’s in his own reality). So that Eddie cooks up an idea to shift to where Steve’s original reality is and ends up living the life of a rockstar but having to find out that Steve abandoned him for another version of himself??? he keeps it a secret to try and see if Steve will mention anything about shifting but when he doesn’t Eddie gets angry and blows his cover sky high and breaks up with Steve. He’s forced back into shifting so he can time travel and try to fix his mistake and win the Eddie in his desired reality back.
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littleststarfighter · 6 months
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Blue masquerade, strangers look on
When will they learn this loneliness?
Temptation heat beats like a drum
Deep in your veins, I will not lie -Cry little Sister.
On insta I said I was going to do a special picture for Friday the 13th as it's also my birthday. And everyone seemed to agree it was to be Lost Boys or Steddie. So here's Lost Boys Steddie. Steve thinks it's just an innocent beach date and he’s embarrassed by his ketchup accident. And Eddie is trying so hard not to reveal his not so innocent vampire tendencies. Or you could say I just wanted to draw cute guys in leather 😁
prints + patreon
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ahhrenata · 9 days
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Steve’s singing quietly under his breath and eddie’s just 🤩 completely distracted.
as always, inspired by @sparklyslug 💕
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maroon-cardigan · 5 months
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the slut, the prince, the freak | steddie x fem!reader
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♡... got lovestruck went straight to my head
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got lovesick all over my bed...♡
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summary: eddie munson always thought he was invisible. with a cigarette in his mouth, he observed the world of hawkin’s high school from his usual parking spot outside. he was there when you and steve broke up and he started dating nancy wheeler while you played with the heart of almost every popular boy in the school. he was there when the rumours of your reputation turned cruel and steve lost his crown. and he was there when you started secretly fucking your ex-boyfriend in the boys’ toilets during lunch break.
word count: 10.5k
popular!fem!reader x king steve x loser!eddie | exes with benefits (reader x steve) | no use of y/n | no upside down | no mentions of specific race, hair type of body type
warnings: this blog and the content i write are +18, minors do NOT interact. NSFW. a bit of angst at the beginning. mentions of blood, bullying & slut shaming. voyeurism, fingering, finger licking, oral (m & f receiving) p in v, use of the word daddy, use of good girl, threesome, anal play, double penetration, unprotected sex, overstimulation.
author’s note: hello ♡ im not usually a steddie girl but i’ve been thinking about this idea for months !!! kinda inspired on miss americana & the heartbreak prince and slut! by taylor. loosely edited so pls be kind if you find any typos. it started being very smutty but it somehow turned out kinda fluffy too because you know i loooove a throuple and steddie is very sweet in this. enjoy x
masterlist
[dividers by @cafekitsune]
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You were too young when Steve Harrington became your boyfriend. It was destined, your parents said, when they first found out you were dating. You were both sixteen, clumsy and unexperienced, and while he wanted to make his parents proud, you enjoyed the fact that dating King Steve made you popular.
But after two years together, your realised that there was something missing between you two. Steve was sweet for sure; he was nice to you, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like him.
One day, as you were taking your books out of your locker, you saw him leaning on the wall talking to Nancy Wheeler. She looked at him from under her lashes, cheeks rosy and smile shy while Steve looked back at her with that flirty stare that once drove you crazy, and you just knew.
The next Friday you were in his car after dinner with his parents and you looked at him from the passenger seat, no pain in your heart, just knowing that whatever had bloomed between you two had run its course.
‘I think you should ask her out.’ You said then, eyes fixed on the windshield. Steve’s stare was overflowing with confusion at your words.
You had been his first everything. Neighbours since you moved to Hawkins when you were nine, best friends since the first day as the new girl at school, first kiss, first girl he slept with, first love.
‘What?’
You tried to read his eyes, knowing him so well, but that night his pupils seemed to be hiding something behind them. The sudden distance between you and the boy you knew like the palm of your hand made you feel insecure.
‘Nancy. She’s pretty. I think you should give it a shot.’
Steve’s eyes turned soft at your words. You weren’t angry, there was no sign of jealousy on your tone, and that was enough for him to know.
You gave him a sad smile and leaned in to kiss his warm cheek, your coconut perfume that stuck to his body like a second skin filling his lungs. The cold yet familiar texture of your lips lingered on his cheek after you stepped out of his car and walked back to your place.
Rumours flew around the school and though you and Steve smiled at each other in the hallways, it was obvious that you were no longer the It couple of Hawkins. A few weeks after that, guys from the sports team started to ask you out and Steve was seen making out with Nancy after classes.
It was weird the first months, but after a while you had to make peace with the image of them walking around the school holding hands, and you started going out on dates again.
But you got bored quickly. It was the same every couple of months, a cute guy from the football team would ask you out, you’d go on a date, make out or if you were in the mood, have sex and when they started showing feelings for you, you ended it.
You weren’t sad or disappointed, it was just boredom. Some of them took it nicely, others… not so much. But what if they called you a slut in the hallways? You were still pretty and inaccessible to most. You were having fun.
And Steve, well, he had heard of your reputation, but if he saw anyone talking shit about you, he was always quick on telling them to shut up. He knew he’d always be protective of you, waving from his bedroom’s window when you played with your dog in the backyard every evening, and closing his curtains when he saw you kissing some guy in your bedroom on weekends, sometimes staying in rather than going out as he meant to, just in case. In case something happened. In case you needed him. In case you called.
But that never happened.
There was another person in the school that was willing to defend you from the rumours, but you didn’t even know about his existence until one day outside school, when Jason Carver lost his temper with you.
‘I mean it was nice…’ He overheard you say as you stood in front of Jason. ‘I just don’t really feel we’ve got that much chemistry.’
Eddie Munson was leaning against his car from the other side of the parking lot, hiding his amused expression behind a cigarette. Whenever he saw your pretty face around the school, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Eddie had always admired the confidence with which you talked to boys, dressed in those little skirts and knee socks he loved even if the autumn chill was too cold for them. Internally, he kind of liked how careless about dating you were, using those guys for a few weeks before dumping them. He’d argue you had terrible taste in men, from Harrington to Carver to any other pretty boy in the school, but he knew he would never have a chance with you.
‘What the fuck?’ Jason said, but no muscle from your face moved.
‘Come on, Jason.’ You tried to be kind but God, was he annoying. ‘Don’t be silly, I’m sure there’s a bunch of girls in Hawkins that would kill to be with you.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t let him speak. You never let them. ‘Anyways, I’ll see you around.’
‘Wait a fucking minute, you slut.’ You didn’t even have time to blink when his hand grabbed your arm so tightly it hurt. Eddie observed how you frowned in pain at Jason’s grasp. ‘You don’t get to break up with me.’
‘We’re not even dating, asshole.’ You said trying to get out of his grip. ‘Let me go.’ But the pressure on your arm became even stronger and more painful. ‘Seriously, Jason. Let go!’
Eddie didn’t wait for it to escalate when his fist hit Jason’s jaw and the boy’s hand finally let your arm go. ‘She told you to leave her the fuck alone.’
But Jason was not going to let someone like Eddie Munson walk away just like that. His fist hit Eddie’s nose, and you took your hands to your face when he fell on the ground with a loud noise. Jason kept hitting him even when you screamed at him to leave the boy alone, trying to push him away from Eddie while a bunch of students surrounded you.
It wasn’t pretty. By the time they were separated, Eddie’s face was full of blood and Jason only seemed to have a small bruise on his cheek.
‘Hey!’ You called as the guy that defended you walked back inside the school. But Eddie felt too humiliated to talk to you, and all his bravery had been replaced by a deep sense of shame.
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Steve didn’t think he’d find such a scene in front of him when he was about to walk out of the toilet. Eddie The Freak Munson walked inside the toilet with a bloody swollen face. Standing on his place as Eddie opened the sink, he observed the way the boy features clenched in pain when he took his hands to his face.
‘Do you need anything, Harrington?’
‘That just… that looks pretty bad. Should I call the nurse?’
But Eddie only laughed bitterly, not really used to anyone caring too much about him. He had always been invisible in front of people like you or Steve.
‘I’ll be alright.’ He said indifferently, and Steve nodded hesitantly, eyes lingering on the ringed bloody knuckles for a couple of seconds before leaving.
Steve didn’t think too much about it until he heard why Munson had been hit. The rumours said Jason Carver almost hurt you and The Freak had intervened at the right moment, but you felt weird talking about it, so you didn’t answer anyone’s questions as the bruise on your arm started to go from red to purple.
You searched for Eddie the following day at school but didn’t see him. His car was missing in the parking lot and when you tried to drive to his place to thank him, his uncle told you he wasn’t in, even if you heard the clear sound of a guitar being played behind the man on the threshold. So, you got the message.
Next Friday, you found yourself drinking and looking at Steve and Nancy from the other side of the party. Steve made eye contact with you as he danced with his girlfriend, and you gave him a sweet smile that he returned. It would never be strange for you to see him with someone else, but at the same time, you told yourself you weren’t really jealous.
But maybe Nancy Wheeler was.
‘Why do you keep looking at her?’ She asked. They were in the toilet after Steve had accidentally thrown his drink on her.
‘What? Who?’ His hands were a bit shaky at the anger behind Nancy’s eyes as he offered her some tissues to clean her clothes.
‘Who?’ She mocked, ‘Your ex-girlfriend, it’s like you’re obsessed with her or something.’
‘I’m not–’
Just then, the toilet’s door opened. Their eyes lift up to find you face, blood rushing to your cheeks quickly at the sight of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ You said, to what Nancy rolled her eyes.
Steve saw the way you looked at her confused. He opened his mouth to apologize for his drunk girlfriend when his eyes caught the purple bruise on your arm, quickly looking back at you. You knew those eyes so well, he was worried. A question in his pupils as his mouth opened slightly. But you turned shy then, embarrassed by the bruise and by your drunkenness, feeling like you had somehow disappointed him.
‘Hey–’ He started, but you closed the toilet’s door quickly before walking towards the living room to tell your ride you wanted to go home. You shouldn’t have come to that stupid party anyways.
On Monday, everyone knew that Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were no longer together. You started wearing long sleeved sweaters on top of your usual cute tops with the excuse of the low temperatures, but you were just covering the bruise that had made you feel so humiliated when you last saw Steve.
Eddie thought he was probably the only one that noticed you were wilting after what happened with Jason. He started to be more careful after the fight too, face still purple and swollen by the bruises that cost him the stares of people who called him a weirdo in the hallways. So, he decided to start eating his lunch in the school’s toilets rather than in the cafeteria.
But he still observed you in between classes, when you were distracted taking your books from your locker, keeping your eyes low. When you started to turn down the dates the popular boys invited you to, punishing yourself for what you thought you had caused. Eddie saw the way you hid your pretty eyes from Steve, who often stared the back of your neck during class or in the hallway, and with narrowed eyes he silently noticed Harrington’s face full of confusion and sadness as you ignored him in the parking lot.
Steve would lift his eyes to find Munson’s gaze on him, not breaking the eye contact as his ringed, scarred hands reached for a cigarette in his pocket. His cheeks would turn hotter at the piercing look in Eddie’s pupils, as if he had been caught doing something stupid, or as if he knew something Steve didn’t. All he could do was open the door of his BMW to go home and try to get you off his head as his knuckles wrapped tightly around the wheel.
It all went downhill for Steve after that.
Months later, some rich kids called Eddie to bring some weed over for them at a party, and when he opened the big wooden door of the fancy house, he found Steve’s swollen face on the other side of the door.
The boy ran past him, not even noticing when Eddie stood next to the door and watched him get inside his car. He should’ve done something, he should’ve offered him some help like he had done months ago when he hit Jason, but Eddie was paralysed. He didn’t realise he had been standing outside like an idiot, watching Steve’s car get lost in the distance, until a familiar body walked past him again.
Your coconut perfume made him take a step back into the shadows of the night. You were standing on the street now, your bare back exposed by a nice little dress, trying to see through the darkness. But Steve was gone. The night’s cold air made you shiver, and Eddie decided to walk inside the house before he could do something stupid, like talk to you.
When Eddie walked in, he looked around, trying to find any of the people he had spoken to on the phone earlier. He was about to walk into the kitchen when the sight of Billy Hargrove’s bloody knuckles made him walk away in the opposite direction.
You saw Steve’s bruises heal from the distance.
The laughs of Carol Perkins and Tommy Hagan made you lift your eyes sometimes, but Steve no longer hung out with them, the empty space where he belonged once making you frown your eyebrows with curiosity.
Sometimes you stared at the phone next to your bedside table, laying on your bedroom’s floor with your hair wet after a shower and your feet bare against your green rug, thinking about calling him. But you never felt brave enough to deal his number, and you had grown fond of walking your dog around the block instead of playing with him in the back garden of your house. Or that’s what you told yourself.
You thought he and Nancy would eventually come back together, hopeful that it might all have been a misunderstanding and completely unaware of how you had caused the breakup on the first place, but she was now dating Jonathan Byers. He must be feeling lonely, you thought the morning you found the new couple kissing against Jonathan’s car.
Yet you would still look back to your locker when you saw Steve walking down the hallway, a little red scar marking his lower lip, purple bruises around his nose fading. You were dying to talk to him, repressing a sigh as the smell of his familiar woody cologne invaded your lungs when he walked past. But you abandoned the idea, closing your locker’s door a bit too harshly before heading to class.
Didn’t everyone feel utterly miserable in high school, anyways?
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It all changed two weeks after that, when you were on your way to the cafeteria and Billy Hargrove tried to ask you out. You stood next to your locker in shock, lips partly opened but nothing coming out of them. You had turned more introvert after what Jason Carver did to you, and you figured Hargrove would treat you worse than him. You’d seen what he did to Steve, and the way his little sister seemed so tense around him all the time sent shivers through your body. You almost felt your hands shaking next to your sides as you looked back at him, but the fear quickly turned into something else: anger. Why did you have to be so careful around all these assholes?
‘I don’t… I don’t think so, Billy.’ You said before trying to walk past him, but Billy placed his arm on your locker and blocked your way out, making you roll your eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but you pushed his chest with your hand. ‘I said I don’t want to. Leave me the fuck alone.’
‘What? You’re getting picky now after half the school has slept with you?’
And that’s what made you snap.
You kicked him on the shin by reflex, the first thing you brain could come up with. But when he reached for his leg trying to soothe the pain, your rage was too much for you to hold in.
Everyone in the hallway was looking at you when you bent a little to be at the same eye level as him. ‘Listen to me, asshole. I fuck whoever I want to, not the other way around. Maybe you’re not half as hot as you think you are, so if you really want the full thing, you’re gonna have to masturbate until your little dick falls off.’
Your angry words echoed through the walls as Billy’s eyes filled with fury. Under his breath, he was still able to bite back, ‘Who wants to fuck the school’s slut, anyways.’
‘That’s it–’ you said, but as you were about to jump on him, you felt someone’s arms on your waist.
‘Okay, okay. That’s enough.’ Steve said as he walked you backwards, his hand around your waist while you kicked your feet in the air and Billy composed himself. ‘Come on.’
‘Let me go, Steve!’ You screamed as he kept dragging you away from Billy and the rest of the students.
But he didn’t until you were inside the boy’s toilets, your cheeks red with anger and scalp a bit sweaty by the adrenaline.
‘You need to calm down.’
Eddie stood still inside the toilet’s stall when he jumped to the sound of Steve Harrington’s voice. He thought it was weird of him, or anyone, to be in these toilets that he found almost no one in the school used. Until he heard your voice.
‘I don’t fucking want to calm down.’
Eddie stayed silent, trying to look through a little crack on the stall’s door. Steve had both hands on your shoulders while you seemed to be breathing heavily with rage.
‘He could’ve–’ He started.
‘Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.’ You removed his hands from your shoulders, screaming at him. You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault, but you were burning with anger. ‘I’ll fucking fight him, Steve. Hargrove, Carver, all of them. I’m so sick of this shit.’
You let out a sigh, trying to relax, but it was impossible. Eddie smiled at your words; he loved how tough you were despite the fact you seemed like a really soft girl. He repressed a laugh at the sight of Steve standing in front of you with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out what the fuck do with you.
‘I know, I know.’ He said, eyes serious as he looked at you through brown strands of hair that fell on his forehead, ‘But that’s not the solution–’
‘You’re such a hypocrite!’ You clenched your fist on either side of you, ‘You hit Billy–’
‘Yeah, and I fucking lost.’ He interrupted you, his hands were aching to touch you again. Your cheeks red, coconut smell everywhere around him, he was softened by the way your hands got lost inside your oversized sweater. He missed that, he missed that so much, making him suddenly nervous like when he was sixteen. He swallowed before speaking again, trying to keep those thoughts out of his head.
‘I would’ve had to fight him again if he’d touch you and I would’ve lost again.’ His words almost made you smile, stress and anger dissipating and his eyes lighting up at your reaction. ‘Would’ve ended up like Munson when he hit Carver.’
Eddie noticed how you shut your eyes at the sound of his name, tilting your head back and biting your lip. ‘I still feel so fucking guilty about that. I was never able to thank him and now I feel too awkward to do it.’
Eddie held a sigh at your words. A part of him felt kind of flattered, but another was relieved you never spoke to him again. As creepy as it sounded, and as pathetic as he felt for it, he preferred to observe you from afar.
‘I think maybe I should too.’ Said Steve as his eyes got lost on the tiles of the toilet’s floor. You lifted your gaze at his words, but he didn’t feel brave enough to look back at you. ‘I mean, that wouldn’t have happened if I…’
He let the words hang in the air. You turned your gaze to your shoes, arms crossed over your chest as the air turned tense. He took the opportunity to look back at your face and study the subtle changes that had somehow turned you even prettier after your breakup. No wonder you had so many guys after you, the air of confidence you radiated now made you irresistible. But he knew you. They didn’t deserve you.
When you licked your lips, Eddie couldn’t ignore the way Steve’s eyes followed the movement of your mouth.
‘We can be friends.’ You said then, looking up at him.
Steve nodded sightly, but you knew the darkness in those eyes too well. He wasn’t looking at you the way friends looked at each other. Eddie noticed the way your body shifted next to him, looking at Steve from under your lashes and biting your lip unconsciously, unaware of the effect that simple gesture would have in the two boys that were looking at you.
Steve looked down to your shoes when you took a step towards him. God, he was so pretty. You took your time to study the scars that now adorned the skin around his nose and mouth, dying to kiss them.
You remembered that summer night you had sneaked into his bed for the first time two years ago, the way his weight over your body felt so right, the safety and tenderness of it all. You remembered how Steve Harrington fucked: slowly, devotedly, sweetly, sloppy.
Maybe it was the habit that made his hand lift to stroke the little space of skin between your skirt and sweater. His fingers hadn’t forgotten, you were still soft as silk, and your coconut smell that used to perfume his bedsheets brought the same memories of your body beneath his. Mind clouded by images of your open mouth and arched brows as he guided you with the movements of his hips.
There was a time when you trusted him.
‘S that what you want?’ Steve whispered. His eyes met yours then, not trace of shyness in them, but the same endless devotion he so dangerously gave away as if it was nothing.
‘Maybe.’ You pondered in silence as you got closer to him, and your eyes asked for what your mouth didn’t. ‘I mean, I can be a really good friend.’
Steve’s hand found the back of your knee, fingertips following an invisible line from there towards your ass. Eddie couldn’t look away at the sight of your skirt lifting just enough to see the curve of your butt cheek when Steve’s hand found the lace of your thong. You gasped at his touch; this wasn’t boring at all. Not like the sex you were having in the cars of all those guys you had been dating the last few months.
‘Hmm, ‘m sure you can.’ His hand was playing with the lace of your panties now, he held the thin fabric strip before lightly letting it go, hitting your skin just nicely. He knew you liked that. His fingers moved to the fabric in between your legs, finding it damp. A breathy laugh left his lips in disbelief. ‘So wet already?’
Eddie couldn’t help but shut his eyes at Steve’s words. He couldn’t help but imagine what a wet mess your underwear was, the way he’d kill to put his hand under your skirt like Steve was doing right now. You moaned in response, and Eddie opened his eyes to find you looking straight into your ex-boyfriend’s, dark brown taking in the pretty scene in front of him. Eddie had a thing for girls that knew how to keep the eye contact, and you seemed to be fucking fantastic at it.
Your eyebrows met in the middle when Steve opened your legs slightly, with so much confidence behind, like he had never forgotten the little things that made your body melt.
Steve’s eyes stayed on you when he lifted your leg towards him, your knee resting on his hip. ‘What d’you say, sweetheart?’ He whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke, ‘Just once for old times’ sake?’
‘Fuck, Steve.’ You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. ‘Just touch me.’
He let out another breathy laugh as his fingers dived inside your underwear. Eddie rolled his eyes when the sounds of Steve’s hands getting in and out of your wet cunt echoed through the toilet’s walls. You took three of your fingers to your mouth, trying to hide your moans by sucking on them. Steve placed his forehead on yours as you looked up at him, eyes overflowing with that purity he loved so much.
‘D’you like it, baby?’ He said putting another finger inside of you, ‘Did your pretty pussy miss me?’
It was the way you nodded innocently as your fingers came in and out your mouth what made Eddie unzip his jeans. How many times had you been in his fantasies? Way too many. And now you were here, being fingered in the school’s toilets, your frail body turning into nothing. He couldn’t resist to touch himself, the noise of your choked whimpers making his cock throb.
Eddie started stroking up and down his dick when your hand found Steve’s big erection under his jeans. ‘Wanna fuck me ‘gainst the sink?’ You said then, voice soft but hot, just how you knew Steve liked it. That voice had always made him dumb, and you knew by the way his eyelids had turned heavy and his pupils shiny, that his brain was struggling to process your dirty words as your hand rubbed against his bulge. ‘Can keep the skirt on and you can fuck me from behind, hmm?’
‘Fuck.’ Eddie whispered under his breath. He was trying not to cum so quickly, but you were making it hard for him.
Steve couldn’t resist your offer, unzipping his jeans clumsily while you bent over the sink. You looked behind your shoulder, innocent eyes inviting him as you stood all exposed for him.
Eddie’s clothes were wet with sweat at the look of your ass and your wet pussy ready for Steve, but when Harrington moved his boxers down and his cock fell out hard and big, something inside him betrayed him, trying hard to repress the loud moan that almost got him caught.
‘Shit.’ He whispered then, as Steve positioned himself behind you and the noise of skin against skin filled the toilet. Eddie had to angle himself properly before all his cum fell promptly on the stall’s door, staining the floor too. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’
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It didn’t happen just once.
You didn’t know what this meant, and you didn’t care. You and Steve found each other in the school’s toilets at least once a week. In person you were still polite, but it wasn’t like you were dating again.
But it seemed like that’s what made the whole thing so nice. This was different from any other thing you had experienced before. In the time you had spent apart, you and Steve had definitely learned some nice new stuff, but you had never forgotten what could drive each other insane. And through all your encounters, Eddie sat down inside the stalls making sure he kept quiet as he heard your precious moans echoing through the walls.
He had also learned that Steve was very vocal. Growls against your neck, some pretty nice noises when you got on your knees for him… That was Eddie’s favourite sight while he looked through the familiar crack of the same stall’s door: your little mouth taking Harrington’s big cock so well. At times, he closed his eyes while Steve moaned, fantasising about stroking your hair and calling you a good girl while you made out with your ex-boyfriend’s cock.
But things are always bound to change, and one particularly cold day you found yourself getting fucked in the toilets once again. Your back was against the wall, heel on Steve’s shoulder as his dick touched that spot he knew how to find so well.
‘Hmm, you’re desperate for it today, baby.’ He said before thrusting into you, ‘Like it like that?’
‘Uh-uh.’ Your nails were leaving nice half-moon marks on his back as your head hit the wall every time he thrusted himself inside you. ‘Fuck me like that.’
Eddie could notice your hard nipples under your soft top, since you had taken your sweater off earlier. Steve was right, there was something freaky about you today, something that made Eddie even harder for you as the boy in front of you fucked you faster, and faster.
‘Hmm.’ You moved your hips against Steve as he fucked deeper into you. His eyes almost absent because of how good and tight you felt. You loved when he looked at you like that. ‘Shit, daddy, fuck me harder.’
Steve would’ve cum for you right there if it wasn’t for the soft growl that startled you two. You covered yourself with your skirt and he instinctively stood up in front of you, his hand finding yours right after he zipped his jeans and interlacing your fingers together. There was no noise for a second until something caught your eye, a shadow under one of the stalls. There was someone here. You decided to walk past Steve, standing in front of one of the green metal doors.
You placed your ear on it and heard the clear sound of a heavy breath behind. Holding your own breath, you pushed the door lightly, finding no other than Eddie Munson on the other side.
He was holding his face on his hands, cheeks red in embarrassment when you laughed with relief.
‘Fuck, Eddie. You scared the shit out of me.’
He looked up confusedly at you when Steve walked the distance towards the stall. ‘Munson.’ Steve’s cheeks turned rosy at what the situation looked like. ‘Were you…?’ He swallowed hard trying to find the right words.
‘I’m sorry.’ His anxious voice echoed through the walls, and you noticed the subtle shaking of his hands. ‘Shit. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’
‘Hey.’ You walked inside and bent in front of him. His hands were freezing when you held them in yours. ‘I’m not mad. It’s fine. It’s hot stuff, don’t worry.’
Eddie looked up at Steve then, who stood with his hands on his hips. Steve considered the situation for a second and shrugged in resignation. ‘Whatever, man. If she doesn’t care, I don’t care.’
Eddie let out a sigh of relief then, and you gave him a sweet smile. Your shoulders relaxed when the terror dissipated from his eyes, and something inside you turned soft. The idea of him being so scared almost broke your heart.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ You said standing up, a cheeky smile on your beautiful, angelical face as you spoke, ‘I’m feeling quite generous today.’
Eddie thought he was dreaming it all for a second when you walked towards Steve, wrapping your arms around his waist. You were still wearing no underwear, your skirt just short enough for Eddie to look at the soft lines of skin underneath. ‘What do you say, Steve? Should we let Eddie watch?’
Steve looked from you to Eddie, trying to process what you were asking. His dick twitched inside his jeans, still needing the sticky wet walls of your pussy wrapped around it.
‘Babe.’ He said unsure. His hands found your hips by reflex, the soft and warm skin above the hem of your skirt calming his nerves.
‘Steve.’ You said then, face turned serious before you looked behind your shoulder at Eddie, then back at him. ‘Are you really gonna tell me this doesn’t turn you on?’
Steve seemed hesitant. Not because he wished to say no, but because he wanted to say yes so badly it scared him. Something in his eyes made yours turn softer for him as you realised he seemed a bit insecure, heart beating hard against his chest.
‘Hey.’ You cupped his face with your hands and looked into his sweet brown eyes, brows arching when your thumb stroked his cheekbone. You didn’t know what this was anymore, but if you were going to do this, it was going to be with Steve and only Steve. ‘It’s just me. You know I’d never judge you.’
He nodded once and swallowed hard before letting out a deep breath.
‘Still wanna do it?’ You asked once again, to what he nodded more eagerly now, eyelids getting heavy as the heat of his body increased.
You took a step aside then, getting rid of your top, showing off your hard nipples and enjoying the idea of being observed by the two boys. You felt your pussy getting wet once again as your back rested on the cold metal wall of the stall.
Feeling Eddie’s eyes on you, you grabbed Steve’s shirt and pulled him towards you.
‘Now fuck me so Eddie can cum.’
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And just like that, things changed. Now you and Steve met with Eddie at least once a week in the toilets. You enjoyed it too much. Steve would say he was just happy to indulge you, but you also saw the looks exchanged between the two boys when they were about to cum, the way Steve often looked at Eddie to check that he was enjoying it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your orgasms harder and sweeter.
You found out quickly that Eddie loved to see you sucking cock, and Steve noticed Eddie loved to look at you from the other side of the toilet while he fucked you from behind. And almost in an implicit agreement, you indulged his fantasies too.
Eddie never touched either of you, though. He was just a mere observer on those occasions, and he didn’t feel brave enough to ask for it, scared it might offend you and Steve. He wasn’t sure of how things worked between you two outside the toilet’s boundaries either.
When he smoked his usual cigarette while leaning on his car after school, he noticed that you and Harrington never left together. He saw how Steve still looked at you during class though, the way the pretty brown eyes that often focused on his dick seconds before cumming followed your silhouette in the hallways. How his face turned red whenever you waved at him right after you caught him staring from the other side of the classroom; the tense frown on his face as some guy tried to flirt with you in the parking lot, mediocre speeches leaving their mouths before you simply replied no to their date offers.
Eddie noticed everything. And Eddie knew that Steve had never gotten over you.
You were more difficult to decipher. You seemed to be extra caring of Steve most times, always leaving needy kisses after finishing before you turned back to look at him and ask, ‘You okay, Eddie?’ with your sweet smile, but that’s just who you were. Outside the toilets, you kept being the girl you had always been, comfortable in that careless solitude that made you seem so unreachable.
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Another Friday, another party; and you were considerably drunk, sitting on the kitchen’s counter with some girls from school, joking about the possibility of doing body shots while Steve looked at you from the other side of the room.
You had noticed him earlier, sitting on the couch next to Robin Buckley, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t give it too much thought. At the end of the day, he kept coming back to fuck you in the toilets every week. His pretty eyes lingered on you, that cocky smile that used to fill your stomach with butterflies at sixteen adorning his face, causing you to bite your lower lip as you tried to ignore him.
You looked down to the drink one of the girls offered you, when the familiar silhouette of Eddie walking into the house caught your attention. He seemed kind of lost, looking for someone or something. You knew what Eddie did in this parties, he wasn’t exactly invited, more like called when he was needed. But a part of you somehow wished he would stay tonight.
His dark eyes found yours and you gave him a sweet smile, too sweet, he would argue, bringing back memories of the little meeting you’d had with Harrington the day before.
He had to try hard to keep the image of your body against the sink counter off his head, Steve kneeling in front of you and his pink tongue softly stroking your clit while you moaned nonsense, your beautiful body turning into nothing just for them–
Weren’t you the sweetest secret he’d ever kept?
You noticed he tried to return the smile, but it was just a shy gesture that lifted the edges of his mouth subtly. You followed his body with your eyes as he got lost between the dancing bodies in the living room before realising Steve wasn’t on the couch anymore.
That was it. You stayed on your side of the party, Steve on his, and Eddie doing business like it was supposed to be.
Until your boredom saved your ass for once.
You stepped outside the house with a red cup on your hand, the loud music still bouncing through the walls of the house. It was too cold to be wearing the top and red skirt you had on tonight, but the alcohol made you feel warm, and you felt alone. God, you were always alone. The girls you had been hanging out with hours ago were either puking or getting laid in the rooms upstairs, gone as soon as they found someone else to talk to or a guy to flirt with.
Sometimes being popular felt too much like being pathetic.
You let out a deep sigh and downed the liquid in the cup, feeling the alcohol burning your throat. You cleaned your mouth with your wrist when you noticed the familiar BMW parked a bit further away from the house. Steve, your Steve, was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest, hair falling on his forehead.
You walked down the front steps and got closer to his car with a smile on your face.
‘Hey.’ You murmured.
‘Hey.’ He said back. Your eyes followed the way his leather jacket hugged his arms so nicely before you turned your head to the night’s darkness. You were trying to hide how cold you were as the wind blew your hair.
‘Had fun tonight?’
He laughed softly at your question. ‘Not really. Just drove Robin here but she left with… uh, someone else.’
You lifted an eyebrow with a flirty smile on your face. Steve couldn’t help but repress a laugh as his eyes got lost beyond your shoulder, anything to avoid the way you were making his body temperature increase.
‘King Steve’s date leaving with someone else? That’s new.’
Steve wanted to tell you it wasn’t at all new, and that he didn’t remember when was the last time he went on a date or the last time someone had called him King Steve.
‘You know that Robin is not my girlfriend, right?’
You lifted your eyes at him, studying his face before taking a step forward.
‘I know.’ You said, the candy gloss on your lips reflecting the lights of the road.
He could see the way your skin was full of goosebumps, but his eyes lingered shamelessly on the red mark he had left on your neck the day before. The sweet melody of your moans mixing with Eddie’s heavy breaths came to his mind.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the reflection of red and blue lights in the distance stopped him.
‘Shit.’ Said Steve. You’d recognise Jim Hopper’s car anywhere.
‘Eddie.’ He looked back at you at the sound of the boy’s name. ‘Shit, Steve. Eddie’s inside selling stuff.’
You were about to move when Steve put his hand on your shoulder. ‘Get in the car. I’ll get Eddie, then we’ll leave.’
You stayed in your place, confusion all over your face as Steve climbed the front steps.
‘Get in the car!’ He said before getting lost inside.
You didn’t waste time and quickly walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat. The red and blue lights were much closer now, music still loud mixing with the laughs of the people inside the house.
You observed how Hopper walked out of his car with other two police officers, your knees were shaking but the cold had nothing to do with it. Your parents were going to kill you if they found out. You sat deeper into the seat when they walked next to Steve’s car, before climbing the front stairs of the house.
You didn’t notice Eddie and Steve sneaking out through the garden gate until the driver’s door opened, making you jump.
‘Let’s go.’ He closed the door quickly as you heard the screams of people and Hopper’s loud voice over the music. ‘Eddie, let’s go.’
But Eddie stood outside the car as people started to run out of the house. He was paralysed at the absurdity of the situation, unable to move until you looked behind your shoulder at him. ‘Eddie, get in!’
He nervously opened the door and sat in the backseat as Steve turned the engine on. You let out a sigh of relief when he started to drive in reverse.
Eddie looked down at the strange looks of the few people realising the three of you were inside Steve’s car, his own sense of shame telling him maybe you wouldn’t want to be associated with the school’s freak.
But all you did was roll your eyes and show them your pretty manicured middle finger through the windshield. You could imagine what the whispers would say about you on Monday, but it was out of your control at this point.
‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’ Said Steve.
He had been driving in silence for a few minutes. You were warmer now that Steve had turned the heating on. Eddie stood at the back, trying to ignore how the seats of Steve’s car smelled so much like him. Like cinnamon and cedar. Like pretty boy and money.
‘I can’t go home like this.’ You said looking through the window. Eddie frowned at the note of sadness in your voice. ‘If my dad sees me like this, he’s gonna kill me, Steve.’
He noticed how Steve licked his lips and took a worried glance at you before looking back at the road. ‘My parent’s aren’t home. You can stay there tonight.’ Eddie almost jumped when Steve looked at him through the rearview mirror. ‘You okay with that, Munson?’
Eddie looked up at the worried brown eyes on the mirror, piercing and protective in a way he didn’t know Steve Harrington could be.
‘Sure.’
You stepped out of the car as soon as Steve parked in front of his house, making sure to walk in quickly in case your parents were around. But your body visibly relaxed once you were inside the Harrington’s living room, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes to let out a breath of relief. Steve couldn’t help but stare at you, body full of goosebumps as you tried to calm down.
Eddie looked around the spacious house, at the green couch that must’ve costed more money he would ever make in his life, at the elegant lamps that fell from the ceiling, at crystal walls on the other side of the living room. He looked back at Steve, who hadn’t taken his eyes off your profile and was so evidently and pathetically in love with you, and Eddie knew then that he didn’t belong there or anywhere else.
‘I should probably go home.’ He said.
Your eyes opened wide at his words. ‘No.’
Your hand found his quickly, not even giving him a chance for his brain to register the cold touch of your fingers. ‘Eddie, come on.’
He stayed silent for a second, thinking about what words to choose, when Steve spoke.
‘Why?’
‘I…’ But couldn’t bring himself to say it, instead he just shook his head slightly.
The confusion in your eyes made his chest hurt. He looked from you to Steve, but he couldn’t hold the deepness of his stare, he would rather drown in the tenderness of yours.
‘Listen, I–, you two–,’ He couldn’t help but get distracted at the way your fingers stroked his rough hands. ‘You two work really well, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m doing here.’
‘Hey. Eddie.’ Steve took a step towards him, his shoulder brushing with yours, tone filled with urgency as he searched for the boy’s eyes. ‘Come on.’
Eddie let out an unsure breath before brushing the curls of his head with his free hand. He didn’t know what Steve and you were asking, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. If he was ready to.
It was almost a whisper, the way Steve said it, but it was loud enough for you two to hear it. ‘We came back for you.’
You looked back at him then, vulnerability overflowing from those eyes you had loved since you were sixteen. And you knew. You knew that the something you and Steve were missing was right in front of you.
Your other hand found Steve’s then, making his gaze fall on you, pretty and beautiful under the soft lights of his empty house.
Your movements were slow when you placed Eddie’s hand on your stomach. He had never touched you, so he couldn’t repress the deep breath he let out as you guided his hand upwards, ringed thick fingers touching your ribs over your shirt.
You were still looking into Steve’s eyes when Eddie’s hand reached your chest under your guidance, feeling your nipples getting hard under your bra. He was so warm now, burning against the fabric that covered your boobs.
‘Tell me to stop.’ You told Steve, voice weak as he observed the way your cheeks were turning rosy and your eyes needy. ‘Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.’
He shook his head, a subtle gesture interrupted by his eyes following the trace you drew over your body with the other boy’s hand. You took Eddie’s fingers to the space in between your clavicles, then your neck, then your chin.
‘Jesus Christ.’  Eddie couldn’t help but swear under his breath when you took two of his fingers inside your mouth.
Your saliva was thick and sticky as you took them into your pretty mouth, tongue soft when it came in contact with his fingertips. You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath as you took his fingers in and out of you. Your eyes finally looked back at Eddie when they opened again, and he looked so entranced by you and your damn mouth taking his fingers so well that he knew he was gone.
You couldn’t help but pull him towards you, his body crashing softly and heavy against yours and Steve’s, the sweetest smile on your face as your hand found his cheek. You felt Steve’s arm wrap around your waist, chin sitting on your shoulder and erection hard against your ass while Eddie’s lips brushed yours, hesitating even when your noses rubbed against each other and one of Steve’s hands started to draw an invisible line from your knee to your thigh.
‘Just… just kiss me, Eddie.’ You whispered.
He finally got the courage to close the gap between you two. His lips were needy but tender. You were dying to bite him, to feel him. This wasn’t just sex, and you knew it by the way Eddie’s lips stroked yours slowly and his hands found your face while Steve left sweet pecks on your neck and temple.
‘Take me to the couch.’ You whispered breathily as Eddie’s lips brushed against the skin of your neck.
‘Uh-uh, sweetheart.’ His voice was velvety as he kissed along the curve of your boobs. ‘M not fucking you on some couch.’
You let out a soft laugh at his words. Your hand found the back of Steve’s neck as you looked back at him, he loved the way your eyelids turned heavy as Eddie started to kiss the skin next to your knee.
‘Want to share you.’ You whispered then. Steve’s eyebrows arched at your words, it overwhelmed him, how willing you were to give him everything so devotedly. His eyes almost rolled when Eddie’s hand found the bulge under his pants, and you smiled at him as the curly haired boy observed his reaction from below. ‘Re you gonna let me, Steve? Wanna share you with Eddie.’
Steve’s head was clouded by desire and fear, and his dick was getting harder the more the big hand of Eddie kept rubbing his bulge. His forehead fell on yours, the sigh that left his mouth stroked your lips, as he shut his eyes hard. His breaths heavy in between shaky words, surrendering to what his body wanted, ‘Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, okay.’
His heart was still beating hard against his chest when he sat on the bed. You got rid of your top as soon as you walked inside his room, pushing Steve’s chest lightly towards the bed just like you loved to do when you were younger. Eddie’s hands found your shoulders to push you into Steve’s lap while his lips started to bite your neck, his long curls tickling the skin of your arms.
Steve got rid of your bra when Eddie’s tongue found its way back to your mouth, swallowing the moans you let out as the other boy started sucking on your hard nipples. Your skin filled with goosebumps, Eddie’s cautious hand sneaking into your underwear to feel your pussy so deliciously wet for him. It caught you off guard, the way he seemed to know your body even if it was the first time he touched it, making you moan as two of his fingers massaged the spot he had seen Steve hit with his fingers so many times.
Your mouth opened to let a loud moan out while he still kissed you, making his dick throb as you felt Steve’s hand lifting your skirt to have a better look at the pretty image of Eddie’s fingers getting in and out of you. When the pace of his fingers turned faster you couldn’t help but throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder, breaking the kiss.
Eddie’s hungry eyes turned to Steve then, looking at the way the pretty boy’s cheeks were rosy under his gaze, the leather jacket he was wearing long forgotten on the bedroom’s floor, the tight white t-shirt he wore accentuating his arms nicely. Eddie’s arm still vibrated by the rhythmic movements of his fingers inside you when Steve swallowed hard at what he knew was coming.
You fell on top of his body when Eddie leaned in to kiss him, being nicely crushed by Eddie’s weight and caught in between their bodies, feeling his dick hard against your ass. Always used to being a giver, Steve got overwhelmed by all the attention he was receiving as Eddie’s demanding tongue stroked his and the smell of your hair surrounded him. He felt your lips climbing from his neck to his jaw, the way your tongue played with his earlobe before you bit it sweetly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you felt his hand squeezing your thigh in response. You could feel his heartbeat, hard and fast under your naked chest, and your own body’s response, the sound of your pulse on your ears. Eddie’s lips started climbing down to Steve’s neck, and you took the opportunity to climb off his lap.
It was a sweet dance of an implied agreement between you and Eddie to make Steve feel good and safe. You sat down behind him to help him get rid of his t-shirt as Eddie left a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. You kneeled on the bed so Steve’s head could rest on your thighs, pretty eyes looking at you with fear and excitement. You bent to kiss his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth while his lips let out shaky breaths that reminded you so much of the fear you both felt the first time you had sex. His shaky hands found yours as you smiled at him from above, and his eyes shut hard when Eddie finally teased the tip of his dick with his lips.
‘Fuck.’ He whispered in your mouth as the curled haired boy started to take his cock deep into his mouth, making sure of getting it sloppy the way you had done all those times he watched from the stalls. Steve ran his fingers through his hair as he looked down to the scene of Eddie taking his big dick into his mouth and feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of his throat. ‘F-fuck, yes.’
Eddie slightly smiled at you from the other side of the bed. You loved how moany Steve could get with blowjobs, whining in agony, turning needy as he let out the sweetest noises. He looked up at you then, brown eyes looking dark and desperate. He let out a breathy laugh before squeezing your thigh with one of his hands. ‘Come sit on my mouth, babe.’
‘Keep the skirt on.’ Eddie’s voice made you lift your eyes. His stare dark now, taking in the beautiful sight of you: nipples hard, mouth shiny and swollen by their kisses.
You nodded slightly, not breaking the eye contact with him as you moved to open your legs and sit comfortably. You made sure to lift the piece of fabric around your hips a little when you finally sat down on Steve’s perfect tongue. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you kept your eyes on Eddie when he took Steve back into his mouth, rolling your eyes at the sweet sensation of skin against skin.
He loved the way Steve’s tongue rubbed against your sensitive clit, his big lips hungry and pussy drunk for you. How you moved your hips slowly, the way you held one of your boobs and Steve’s hard grip around your thighs as he ate you out, making his arms look veiny and strong. There was not one inch of skin in front of Eddie Munson that he wasn’t dying to taste that night.
‘So sweet, fuck.’ Steve said in between licks, ‘Such a perfect pussy.’
His hips had started moving up and down unconsciously, fucking Eddie’s pretty pink mouth repeatedly. You never thought such a sight would turn you on so much, but there was something about Eddie that was so rough and messy as he took Steve in. A thread of saliva falling from one the sides of his mouth, head moving with violent devotion. God, did you want to be fucked. The thought made your eyebrows arch in desperation as your orgasm started to slowly build up from the bottom of your tummy.
‘I’m gonna c-cu–’
‘No, you’re fucking not.’ Said Steve against your cunt, but he resumed his movements right after.
‘I-I’m going to.’
‘Fuck no, princess.’ Said Eddie then. You lifted your eyes to find him cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. His ringed hands pulled Steve’s thighs, getting him out from under your legs.
You looked flushed and desperate as you waited for them to do something, anything so you could get what you wanted. Eddie got rid of his clothes as Steve shook his jeans off his ankles, before cupping your face and kissing you hard, your sweet taste on his tongue mixing with the remains of your candy gloss. You whined in disappointment as he kept kissing you, begging to be touched.
‘Steve, please.’
‘What?’ He laughed as if he was completely clueless. You didn’t like being teased, always expecting to get what you wanted without working for it. His hands found the cheeks of your ass when you felt Eddie’s body behind you, emanating a warmth that made you feel so small, but so safe and cozy.
His curls were tickling your back when the tip of his dick started stroking your ass hole. ‘Is this okay?’
His voice was raspy but sweet. You let out a shaky breath but your eyes rolled as your pussy got wetter at the possibility of having both boys inside you.
‘God. Yes.’ You head rested against his shoulder as Steve’s mouth left love bites on your neck. ‘Yes, it’s fucking perfect. Steve, t-tell me you’ve got lube.’
‘I do.’ He said, lips brushing against your skin, enjoying how desperate you grew every second you didn’t have a dick inside you. ‘Baby wanna be fucked in the ass, huh?’
‘Steve.’
His face came out of your neck to find your needy, demanding eyes. His pupils were dark, moving to your lips as he spoke. ‘Tell Eddie.’
You frowned at his words as he kneeled in front of you, hands still on your hips, looking down at you and taking in the beautiful image of your curves. ‘Tell Eddie you want him to fuck you in the ass.’
You rolled your eyes half annoyed, half turned on at his authority. The soft stroke of Eddie’s laugh against your cheek made it much worse. Steve sweetly smacked your butt cheek at your lack of words. ‘C’mon. Say it.’
But you took your time, head turning slowly to your side. Your eyes lingered on Eddie’s mouth and then on his eyes for a few seconds before you let out a soft moan. ‘Hmm.’ Your nose stroked his and he almost started searching for your mouth when you whispered against his lips. ‘Want your cock in my ass, baby. Please.’
Eddie let out a sweet laugh, the shyness he showed downstairs had disappeared completely, instead you had found a devotion as overwhelming as Steve’s.
‘You always ask so nicely, don’t you?’ He whispered against your lips.
It took a few minutes of playing with your body to get you to relax. Steve stroked your clit with his fingers while Eddie kept teasing your tiny hole with a finger wet with warm lube. There was no distance between your bodies as your back still rested against Eddie’s and your hand stroked the hairs of Steve’s chest lazily.
‘Thought so much ‘bout this you know,’ Eddie whispered on your ear as his dick teased you once again. You could feel your body ceding as he pushed lightly inside you. You looked up at him with those angelic eyes he’d grown to love the last few months, Steve’s pretty mouth ghosting above your cheekbone as your nails left half moons marks on his arm whenever Eddie pushed deeper.
‘Fuck.’ You moaned. ‘I need you. P-please. I need to feel both of you.’
Steve was done teasing you, too turned on to say no to you. You saw the ways his eyes shut and his mouth opened in pleasure when his dick came in contact with the inner walls of your cunt, feeling Eddie’s hard cock on the other side of your body. A loud growl came out his chest at the overwhelming sensation.
You were gone. All you could feel was how you full you were, how cared for you felt as one of Eddie’s hands grabbed at your hip firmly and he fucked you slowly and deeply, taking his own time.
Steve’s movements were a bit faster, desperate with need as his eyes got lost in your beautiful body, boobs moving rhythmically with the pace of his hips as he went in and out of you.
‘Shit.’ You heard him say as your eyes lingered absently on the tiny drops of sweat adorning his crown. ‘Come here, Munson. Fuck.’
Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand over your shoulder and took two of his fingers into his mouth as his speed inside you increased. Your blurry eyes got lost in his beautiful, flushed face: eyebrows arched in pleasure but eyes dark with desire as he kept fucking you. Eddie couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of Steve’s warm wet tongue before he took the big hand out of his mouth, a thread of saliva hanging in between you two, and guided it towards your centre.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and arch your back at the overstimulation. There was no inch of your skin that wasn’t burning, no curve that wasn’t worshipped, no stare that wasn’t met with overflowing adoration. No part of your body that wasn’t being loved by the two boys.
‘Come on, baby.’ You heard Eddie’s voice in the distance as his hand touched the sensitive nerves of your clit and his dick kept stretching out your ass hole. ‘You can cum now, you can let go. It’s okay.’
You could only reply with moans, high-pitched needy sounds that made them move closer to you, crushing you in between them. Your back against Eddie’s chest, boobs pressed against Steve. Something hot wet your face, you were fucking crying at how good it all felt.
Steve cupped your face with one of his hands then, lost in the way your lips opened slightly, eyes absent and body focused in just feeling. His head found a comfortable place on your neck as your grip on his arm got even tighter and you felt the walls of your cunt and ass contract before your body exploded in pleasure.
‘Fuck, baby.’ Said Steve on your neck. ‘Look at you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.’
Something hot and sticky fell from your thighs. Eddie’s lips left a wet kiss on your shoulder as your convulsions became less intense, you could feel his hard breaths while he kept hugging you from behind. ‘You did so well, princess. So well.’  
You stayed there, crushed in between their bodies for a few minutes, or maybe hours. Eddie was still stroking the skin next to your belly button when you felt the weight of Steve’s body lift. The sound of water running in the distance. Crickets outside or maybe the birds waking up.
‘Let’s go clean you up, babe.’ Said Eddie, leaving a sweet kiss on your temple.
You opened your eyes to find him smiling at you, eyes full of tenderness. A tickling touch made you lift your eyes to the end of the bed, where Steve’s stood up, sweet smile, tired eyes and hair messy while his fingers wrapped around your ankle.
‘Come on, pretty girl. You can take a nap later.’
You let out a silly giggle. This was absurd.
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I do no consent for people to plagiarise, translate, copy or repost any of my written works anywhere. I do not consent people to use any of my written work for AI purposes.
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mimimunson · 2 months
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nicknames / steddie / headcanon
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steve has some really stupid nicknames for eddie.
- the flash (bro is so hyperactive and theatrical all the time)
- echo (he repeats the questions you ask him every single time)
- trouble (“oh here comes trouble” ARE YOU KIDDING)
- eds (he usually uses this in passing or when he’s tired)
- daddy
- pretty boy (he’s right and he should say it with chest.)
- edward (only when he’s being annoying)
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keeksandgigz · 4 months
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the love witch
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modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader
summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.
cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe
word count: 4.8k
this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
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Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker. 
Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on. 
He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.
Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.
And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life. 
Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.
He stops doing that once he meets you. 
Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.
He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp. 
He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door. 
“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd. 
“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.
You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess. 
He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs. 
“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you. 
You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips. 
He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks. 
His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog. 
“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store. 
It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman. 
It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes. 
You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.
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Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.
He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.
Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.
A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.
Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.
Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.
And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.
Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.
Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.
The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.
"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.
"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.
"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.
"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.
The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.
A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.
"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.
"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.
"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.
He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.
"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.
Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.
"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.
He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.
A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.
"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.
There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.
"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.
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So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.
With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.
Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.
"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.
He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.
He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.
You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.
After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.
Eddie Munson has a birth chart.
Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.
Whatever that means.
You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.
He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.
Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.
"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.
He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.
"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.
"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.
"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.
You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.
"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.
"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.
"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.
You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.
"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.
Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.
And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.
Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.
He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.
"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.
He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.
"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.
"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.
"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.
Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate
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He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.
"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.
"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.
You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.
"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.
"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.
Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.
Herbs, oils and a new card deck.
"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.
"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.
Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.
He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.
"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.
"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.
"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.
"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.
You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.
"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.
"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.
He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.
"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.
"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.
He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.
He is a weak, weak man.
He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"
Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.
"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.
You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.
He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.
You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.
"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.
"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.
"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.
"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.
Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.
"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.
"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.
You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.
Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.
"What's that, baby?" he asks.
"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.
He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.
"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.
"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.
It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.
"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.
"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.
Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.
A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.
"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.
"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.
A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.
"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.
And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.
Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.
You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.
"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.
You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.
"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.
You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.
"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.
He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.
Like he is nothing without you.
Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.
He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.
"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.
"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.
He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.
Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.
Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.
Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.
His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.
Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.
But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.
Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.
"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.
And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.
He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.
"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.
"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.
"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"
"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.
"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.
"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.
You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.
You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.
You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.
"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.
"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.
He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.
He raises an eyebrow.
Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.
He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.
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mini taglist: @strangerstilinski, @stuckonthefiction, @elegantkoalapaper, @gravedigginbbydoll, @eddiesxangel, @reidsbtch, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticharrington, @hideoutside, @monstxrteeth, @the-local-pendeja, @thornsnvultures, @strangerfreaks, @unverifiedmeatsuit, @strangerfreaks, @starlitlakes, @thebejeweledwatercat, @aphrogeneias, @chrrymunson, @amira0303, @paradise-summertime, @onegirlmanytales, @piecsesrising, @feralamdtiredrat, @m0llygunn , @angel-upon, @lavendermunson, @cowboylikemunson
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eddiesghxst · 3 months
Text
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU
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credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader
summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you
contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3
word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)
-masterlist-
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Eddie might be way in over his head.
Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.
It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.
“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”
Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.
Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.
Jesus.
“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”
Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 
Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.
Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.
Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 
Good riddance.
Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.
Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 
And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.
Whatever.
Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”
Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.
One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”
Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.
So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.
She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 
“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.
Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”
Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.
How hard can it be?
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Apparently pretty fucking hard.
It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.
People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”
“Huh?”
“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”
Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”
“Good. You’re late.”
Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.
The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 
It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.
“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 
Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.
Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”
Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”
Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 
Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.
Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”
Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”
Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.
You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.
Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!
“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”
Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.
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“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”
Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 
The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”
The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.
You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”
Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”
And, well, she’s not wrong.
Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.
But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.
You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.
“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”
You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”
You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.
He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.
It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.
Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”
You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.
"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."
It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 
You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.
You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.
"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”
You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”
Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”
You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.
You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.
And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 
"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.
Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.
“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 
Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 
“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 
Jesus.
You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.
Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.
God, who is this man?
You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.
You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.
And it's fun doing this with Eddie.
Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 
But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”
And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.
You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.
You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”
You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.
You might buy this film just to relive it.
You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”
It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.
You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”
You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”
Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.
You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 
You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.
Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.
Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.
You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”
Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”
You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.
You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.
“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 
“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”
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A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.
Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.
Suck that, Robert.
However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.
You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”
Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”
You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 
“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 
Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”
You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”
Oh.
Ohhhh.
“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.
You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.
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Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 
You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.
He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.
He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”
God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.
Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”
You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”
God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.
You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 
Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”
“You’re still weird.”
Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”
Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.
Eddie nods, “Shoot.”
You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?
“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”
You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”
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Eddie could leap for joy right now.
Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.
Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.
“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”
God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?
Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 
“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 
Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.
You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.
“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.
Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.
“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!
“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”
Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.
Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”
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Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.
Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.
He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 
Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.
Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.
It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.
Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 
“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”
You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”
The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.
You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”
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Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.
He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.
“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.
You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.
Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.
Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 
Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.
Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”
You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”
“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”
You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”
And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
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Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.
After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.
You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.
You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 
It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.
The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.
Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.
“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.
Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”
Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”
Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 
Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.
“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”
Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”
“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”
Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.
But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.
Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 
He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.
He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 
The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.
Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.
It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.
“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”
Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.
What a buzz kill.
Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 
You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.
“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”
Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”
You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”
The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.
You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.
“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.
Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.
Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.
Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.
“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.
You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.
Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.
Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.
“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.
Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.
Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.
His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 
He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.
“So good, princess—”
“Cut!”
You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 
These fucking cameras.
You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”
Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.
“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.
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Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.
It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.
You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.
And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.
He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”
“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.
You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”
Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”
Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”
You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 
Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”
The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 
Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”
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Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.
He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.
You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”
And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.
Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 
Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.
He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”
Shit.
God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.
“No.”
It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 
“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.
Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.
You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”
And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.
You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”
And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”
He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.
You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”
Jesus Christ.
Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.
You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.
Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.
And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.
You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.
Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.
He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.
You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”
Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.
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Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.
You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.
Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.
Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.
He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”
You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 
“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.
Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”
You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”
You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”
Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.
You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.
You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.
Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.
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Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.
It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”
Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”
You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 
And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!
“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”
No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.
Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.
It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.
“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.
You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.
It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.
The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.
It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.
And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.
He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.
He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.
Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.
Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 
Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.
Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”
He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 
Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.
The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 
“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.
And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.
Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.
You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 
“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.
Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.
He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.
Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.
“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.
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Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.
The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.
Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.
He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.
You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.
And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”
So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.
And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.
He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 
Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.
Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.
The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.
“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 
Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.
Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”
Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 
And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.
Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?
Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”
Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.
But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—
“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.
You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.
You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.
The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.
Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.
Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”
Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 
He fails.
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The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.
The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.
Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”
Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”
And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 
And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.
“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”
Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”
And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.
“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”
You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.
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a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3
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cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside
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otteranha · 1 year
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Steve’s always been told that the string of pearls from his grandmother would one day belong to his girl of his dreams, perfect accessory to compliment a wedding dress. When he’s getting his birth certificate and passport out of his father’s safe on the day he leaves for good the pearls in their velvet case catch his eye and on a whim, he takes them along. Leaves a note explaining that it won’t be a white wedding but they’ll be going to the person he loves most in the world.
It may seem incongruous on paper, but when Corroded Coffin plays their first big gig, everyone remarks about the total badassery of frontman Eddie Munson’s look, pairing black mesh shirt, frayed black jeans and combat boots with a string of flawless white pearls.
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mimixmunson · 12 hours
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Steve- “Come on Eds wake up.”
Eddie- “hmmff no.”
Steve- “The sooner you get up, the sooner you can wake and bake baby.”
Eddie- *leaps out of bed like he’s grandpa Joe from Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory*
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wheatnoodle · 9 months
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steve but a year younger than he is so he’s a senior when the kids get into freshman year. they still join hellfire, there’s no changing that.
and sure, sometimes eddie gets confused when he watches mini wheeler give steve a smile and a wave in the hallway that the fallen king always returns. and he doesn’t quite get why dustin will choose to sit with steve alone at a lunch table most days rather than with hellfire. (fully understands sinclair and harrington meeting up on the courts after school)
but what really, truly baffles eddie is the way king steve seems to now always be around to step in whenever the popular kids start teasing eddie. and he hasn’t gotten a swirly since the previous school year. or when steve moves to the empty seat next to eddie in english.
what was he playing at? and why were his new sheep in on it?
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lovetrt · 7 months
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like a mötley crüe song
eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: a lesson in smoking leads to some more interesting lessons… (5.0k)
warnings: smut (oral - m receiving, fingering - f receiving, grinding), best friends to lovers, afab!reader, eddie calls r “girl” sometimes. mdni.
<3
“Fuck,” you sigh, messing up the chord again.
The rain patters violently against the roof of the trailer, mocking your shitty playing. You scowl and grip the chip between your fingers tighter.
It’s a nice night despite your frustration. The storm outside the trailer’s window is electric and fierce, but calming in the comfort of Eddie’s room. An old lamp sits near his closet, bathing the otherwise dark space in a broken golden hue.
You’ve been fiddling with the guitar in your lap for the last half hour, struggling to get the song right. It’s like your fingers aren’t working properly, the tempo is all wrong, and there’s one note that you can’t seem to get right.
You blame your struggle on the intoxicating smell of weed and the sight of your best friend sprawled out on his bed. He’s shirtless with a freshly rolled joint pinched between his fingers and a mug resting at his side to act as an ashtray. It’s mind-numbing how pretty he is when he’s doing something so mundane.
“‘S that Mötley Crüe?” Eddie’s voice is groggy, set deep in his throat. Smoke leaves his mouth as he speaks, blooming from his lips and curling around in the air like wildflowers growing in spring. It thins out and disappears just as quick as it came.
“Yeah, She Goes Down or at least it’s supposed to be. I can’t get this part right.” He hums, lips wrapped prettily around the joint. You ignore the shivers rushing up your spine and turn back to the instrument on your lap.
It’s Eddie’s guitar you're using. He’s protective of it, rightfully so considering Wayne saved up for a year to get it for his birthday. It was really no surprise when he wouldn’t let you use it at first. But after months of whining and desperate pouting, he reluctantly gave in.
He lets you use it whenever you want after seeing how gentle you are with it and how excited you get when you learn a song. Sometimes he’ll even teach you a song, hands wrapped around yours to show you the chords. It’s not ‘cause he wants you to get better, he doesn’t really care for that. He’s just selfish and wants to see your toothy grin when you get it right.
You pick at the strings again, playing the same chord until that sour note ruins it again. You scoff and remove the electric guitar from your lap, gently getting up from the floor and placing it back on its mount.
“I’m never gonna get it,” you sulk, kneeling to the right of Eddie’s bare chest and tossing the pick he got you somewhere in his sheets. It’s a pink one from the record store on Main Street with a few crooked hearts Eddie drew on. He thinks you’re exaggerating when you say it’s the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten, but it tops the gift card your parents get you every year with flying colors.
You watch his tummy rise and fall with his breaths. You’re jealous of how comfortable he looks right now, laid out and eyes closed. Your own eyes linger on his skin, admiring the dark tattoos you’ve memorized over the years and the way they contrast his pale complexion.
You’re not oblivious. You know your best friend is attractive, panty-wetting and jaw-droppingly attractive. You’ve seen the way people stare at him, hungry eyes and bitten lips, and though you would never admit it, you get a little upset when you catch them.
But, then again, you can’t blame them. He’s alluring in an awkward, boyish way, the kind that makes you want him so bad it hurts. He’s lean, but not scrawny. His hands are large and littered with veins that crawl up the sides of his arms. His pouty lips and puppy eyes give him an innocent charm that contradicts his otherwise rough aesthetic. He’s everything you could ever want and more.
So yeah, you’re not oblivious, but your best friend is. He doesn’t notice when someone’s checking him out, not even when it’s you who’s doing it. You’re not sure if this trait of his is a blessing or a curse.
You trace a patch of dark ink on his hip. It’s a stick and poke you did on him in sophomore year. With a clean needle and suspicious ink, you tattooed a tiny bat. It’s messy compared to his professionally done tattoos and is missing a few spots of ink, but Eddie always tells you it’s his favorite ‘cause you did it. You press your fingertips into it until he’s hissing and trapping your fingers in his right hand.
“Don’t get all pouty, sweetheart. I’ll teach you later,” he mutters, bringing the blunt back to his lips with his other hand.
You pull your fingers out of his tight grasp and hold him properly, fingers lacing together, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. You know touching and sitting so close probably isn’t normal in platonic relationships. Wearing nothing but a strappy shirt and tiny shorts while he’s shirtless probably isn’t too normal either.
But your friendship with Eddie isn’t normal. It’s crooked and jagged, distorting platonic boundaries. You’re always too close, too doting, too much. It’s not just friendship, it can’t be. It’s more than that.
His other hand comes down to rest on his chest after taking a big puff, fingers lifted to keep the burning stick from hitting his skin. You watch the way he exhales, letting the weed out through his nose.
“Can you teach me how to smoke too?” The question leaves you before you could even think about it.
“Really?” His eyebrows are arched in surprise, amusement lazily tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Yeah please,” you sweetly smile and pick the joint from between his fingers, careful not to burn him. It feels weird in your hand, almost unnatural yet exhilarating.
It’s not like you’ve never gotten high before. Eddie is your closest friend, so of course you’ve tried weed. But you’ve only had it when he makes you his ‘famous special brownies’ or invites you to try Rick’s new edibles, never though a joint.
He sighs, “Smoking’s bad for you.”
“So is getting high,” you shrug and bring it close to your lips, waiting for his instruction. Warmth travels down to your core when he mutters “brat” under his breath, feeling fuzzy without even having any drugs in your system.
“Suck in the smoke and then inhale through your mouth.” Your head goes dizzy when you wrap your lips around the blunt, right where Eddie’s mouth had been seconds ago.
Weed fills your mouth, tasting flowery and bitter on your tongue. You inhale, but start choking the second it slips down. It burns your throat red and raw, aching while you cough violently into your elbow. Tears itch in against your eyes while his heavy hand comes up to smooth circles down your back, encouraging you to breathe.
You catch your breath with his hand in yours and swallow tightly to try to ease the burn. Eddie takes the roach in your hand and flicks it into the mug. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I should’ve eased you into it.” You nod through a few leftover coughs and wet lashes.
He’s looking at you softly, toffee brown eyes gazing into your watery ones. “Still up for learning? I’ll teach you better this time, we’ll go slow.” You’re embarrassed but determined, nodding while picking up a new joint from the tin box on his nightstand.
“We’re gonna do a shotgun this time ‘cause it’ll be smoother, you know that is?”
“Blowing smoke into someone’s mouth,” you say, but the rise of your tone makes it sound more like a question.
You’ve seen Jonathan do it to Nancy. He’d exhaled cigarette smoke into her mouth before trapping her in a fiery kiss. You feel your face get hot at the thought of doing that with Eddie, breathing him in and then tasting the weed on his lips.
Your heart bursts when he grins at you, “Yeah, smart girl. You sure about doing this?”
You’re nodding ‘cause your words fail you, brain too weak and flustered to come up with a response.
“Good, c’mere,” he sits up with his back against the headboard. You’re really not sure how he wants you, so you just shuffle closer until your thigh is against his and your knees at his hip. He takes the joint and sticks it between his lips, nodding to his lighter sitting on the bedside table.
You lean across him and take it, gently playing around with the mechanism while his fingers trace little shapes on your thighs. “You’re gonna exhale for me while I take a hit, and then you’re gonna inhale through your mouth when I let it out, okay?” His voice is honey, flowing thickly and sweetly into the room.
You don’t answer, instead lean over to light the blunt, watching the fiery red tip burn. His eyes drop between you two, risking a glance at your tits. They’re pushed up at the edge of your strappy shirt, the hem sitting low on your chest. You don’t notice, too entranced with the way his mouth inhales the smoke so smoothly.
He pulls you towards his face with a firm hand at the back of your neck. His eyes flutter shut while you let out a dramatic exhale to let him know you’re ready.
He plucks the joint from his lips and leans into you. Even with your eyes closed, you can tell he’s close to you, so painfully close. It takes everything in you to stop yourself from pushing forward and kissing him breathless.
When he softly blows out, you inhale completely and let the weed fill up your senses. The smoke glides through your throat much smoother this time, and you’re exhaling without a single cough.
You’re feeling fuzzy by the end of it, fingertips tingling against Eddie’s hand.
“That was good, babe. Wanna try it yourself?” You shake your head, take the joint, and put it up to his lips.
“No, can we do another shotgun please? Just to be sure,” you say, though the last part comes out as a weak whisper. Part of you genuinely wants to make sure you won’t cough and embarrass yourself again. The other part of you wants to be close to him, close enough you could almost taste his lips. He nods and takes a hit, chest rising as his lungs fill up.
You lean close when he squeezes your hand and take a breath when he lets his out. Your head is floarting, buzzing with a pleasant dizziness that pulses shivers down your body. You’re not sure if it’s because of Eddie or the weed or both, but you love it regardless.
He’s grinning when you exhale successfully, blowing the smoke between your bodies.
“Alone now,” he sticks the joint between your parted lips when the weed dissipates. You do as you practiced, taking in the crisp smoke and breathing in as much as you can. He’s squeezing your hand again when you let it out nicely.
“That’s my girl. My turn,” he whispers with a toothy grin and takes a puff, sweet and smooth. Your muscles feel blissfully loose and heavy as you take a few more puffs and listen to the rhythm of the rain hitting the roof.
The drug in your system makes it hard to pry your eyes off his mouth, pink and pouted. It’s even harder to stop yourself from kissing him right then and there.
And maybe it’s the drugs or desperation, but when Eddie presses his lips around the blunt for one last drag, you break.
Without warning, you pull the cigarette from his mouth and kiss him.
You get the smallest taste of him, lips smooth with smoke, before you realize what you’re doing and pull yourself back.
You’re flush with embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, I-”
But before you can continue, he’s bringing you closer with a firm hand on the back of your neck and kissing you with burning passion. His lips are parted over yours, plush and soft against you. Warmth bursts in your chest as he deepens the kiss, the taste of weed on his tongue adding to your intoxication.
He’s pulling away much too soon for your liking and smushing the joint in the mug. You can’t resist the wait, so you’re pressing your lips to his again. His sweet mouth nibbles and bites your own. He’s groaning in pleasure, hands coming down to squeeze your waist to get you closer, fingers digging harsh enough for you to have bruises in the morning.
You’re pulling into him for more until it’s hard to breathe with him clouding your senses. You stop, watching him chase after your lips through heavy breaths, eyes shut, and messy hair.
He looks beautiful, and you need more.
“Can I suck you off?” Your voice is weak, breath heavy and tickling his skin.
“Wha-?” His shock is evident by the way his jaw tilts, mouth parted.
“Please, baby. I wanna try it,” you pout. Your hand comes down to his thigh, touching him lightly.
He whimpers shakily, “Yeah, yeah okay.”
And then you’re shuffling down on his bed, popping the button on his jeans. The sight of his happy trail has you clenching your thighs together.
You inch his jeans down, knuckles brushing against him, eliciting a trail of goosebumps. You toss them somewhere on the floor once they’re off and admire his position.
He’s still laid out, comfortable as ever, but there’s a certain look to him now. Anticipation and excitement sit pretty on his face.
“You sure?” You’re mumbling as your hands roam upwards towards the bulge in his underwear.
“God, yes.”
And that’s all you need to pull the waistband down his hips. His cock springs up, finally released from the tight confines of his jeans. You’re almost entranced as you stare at him.
He’s so pretty, tip aching for your touch against his stomach. His soft, pale skin smooths into a pretty pink at his slightly curved tip, veins marked all throughout him. His dark bush sits softly at his base, curling around the skin there. He’s long, so long, that you question how you’re going to get him down your throat. Your mouth waters.
“You just gonna stare at me?” His voice is thick through heavy breaths.
“You’re pretty, Eds,” you grin at him in response before shifting up to settle between his legs and lean down.
“Thank you, baby,” he blushes, and you giggle ‘cause the pink on his face matches his tip.
You press a wet kiss on his slit in response. His breath hitches as you grab at his base and tease a little more, giving him tiny kitten licks on his sensitive head until he’s practically whimpering.
His sweet noises spur you on as you lick up from his base to his head a few times until he’s wet enough to touch. You wrap your fingers around him and stroke, twisting your wrist when your hand moves down.
“Is this your first time doing this?” Your stomach flutters at the thickness of his voice, smooth honey dripping into his tone again.
You look up at him, cheeks red and lips parted. He looks beautiful like this, under your control.
“Yeah, am I doing okay?”
He grunts, “More than okay, feels so fucking good. Use your mouth, sweetheart.” You nod, skin burning red-hot at his praise.
You put him in your mouth, his tip heavy where it sits on your tongue. His taste is new to you, musky and salty yet indescribably good. His whimpers start up again when you begin to suck him gently.
“Now, use your tongue a little,” he tuts. You hum and slowly swirl your tongue around him, pausing to tease at his slit and pick up drops of precum.
“You’re taking me so well, taking my cock so perfectly.” He groans, hips bucking forward just enough for the back of your throat to start throbbing. He’s breathless as you continue going lower and lower, trying to take all of him in you.
You can’t stop the whine that escapes you when his fingers tangle in your hair to keep you against him. He’s not necessarily pushing, just holding you. A dense cloud of ache and smoke forms at your core, sending storms of pleasure to your entire body.
Your eyes itch with tears as you try not to gag. His head is so deep, and it burns your throat like the weed had when you took your first drag. He senses your discomfort and pets your hair gently while muttering a small “breathe through your nose, baby.”
One last push has your nose slightly nuzzled in his bush, lips wrapped tightly around his base. There's more of him, an inch or so you can’t take. He doesn’t seem to mind, mumbling, “That’s it, that’s my good girl,” through heavy panting.
You look up at him through your wet eyelashes. He’s flushed, more than ever, and leaning up on his elbows, watching you take him through hooded eyes. The sight goes straight to that warm cloud between your legs, the pleasure making you forget what you’re doing until you’re gagging slightly.
He tuts as you regain your composure, focusing on your breathing so you don’t pull back. Tears roll down your cheeks as you take him, head bobbing up and down his length while your hand spreads drool that’s collected on his base to his heavy balls.
He wipes your tears with a tender finger, watching you continue to take every bit of him. His eyes and taste on you are intense, burning with want and something else you can’t quite place. Maybe it’s because of the way he’s looking at you, the way he smells, the way he tastes, the way his weed makes you feel, or maybe it’s because you’re nearly choking on his dick. But you’re finding it hard to breathe, hard to keep yourself from gagging around him. So, you swallow, his tip snug against the back of your throat.
He’s pulling you off with a firm grip at the back of your head and a sex-dripping moan.
“Wha-“
“Was about to fucking cum, angel,” he says.
It’s hard to speak while your heart pounds, partly because of your lack of air and partly because he looks so pretty and flushed, but you manage. “Wanted to taste you,” you pout, leaning your head against his thigh so prettily he thinks his heart is going to burst.
“Next time, sweetheart. I wanna play with your pussy, okay?”
Next time. Next time Next time. Your head spins until he’s tapping your cheek to bring you back.
“C’mon, let me take care of you.”
You get up and lay down, head against his soft pillow. You watch his muscles tense and turn as he puts the forgotten ashtray-mug on his bedside table and turns to you. He’s between your legs now, and the switch in position gives you a slight whiplash that only drugs and arousal and Eddie could produce.
He bites his lip at the sight of your tits stuffed in your thin shirt.
“You’re wearing too much. Wanna take this off?” He’s gentle, not prodding, as his fingers dance along the hem of your small shirt, thumbing at a loose thread there. You nod desperately, already lifting yourself to help him get the fabric off.
“Use your words,” he tuts while pushing you to lay back down.
You whine out a pathetic “yes, please,” under your breath.
You swear you see his dick twitch when he pulls it off, discarding it somewhere on the floor.
His eyes are black, blown with lust as he admires your bare tits. Your breath shudders at the cold air, nipples hardening beneath him. He sighs like he can’t fucking believe the sight before him.
“You’re so fucking precious. You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he mutters, hands coming up to cup your tits.
You giggle sweetly, “I think I have an idea.” You push your hips up slightly to brush Eddie’s dick against your skin. He shuts you up with a bite to your tits, smirking with his skin between your teeth when you squirm.
He leaves a mark there, licking and sucking until there’s a patch of purple on you. You like the fact that your best friend is marking you up, taking you as if you were his and he were yours. It makes your blood run scorching hot under your skin.
He takes your whimpers and gasps as a sign to keep going, pressing bruises into your chest while ignoring your pebbled nipples. It’s only when you grasp his hair and push him down that he starts suckling where you want him, tongue teasing your neglected buds.
He moves his mouth to your other tit, teeth gently brushing against you. That feeling in your core gets stronger, growing until you’re begging for more.
“Need you to touch me, please.” A bite lands on the side of your tit, Eddie completely disregarding you. You squirm, inching further up the bed. “Eds, please, I need more.” It’s like your body is going to give out if you don’t get him where you need him.
He leans back with one final kiss pressed to your sternum and admires you: the way your legs are spread for him, eyes filled with tears, and lips red with lust.
“Can I take your shorts off?”
You sigh, “yes, please.”
So he does, pulling them off you as you lift your hips to help him. He’s met with the sight of white cotton panties, simple and soft with a tiny bow at the top. They’re an innocent pair, one you probably wouldn’t have worn if you knew the night would go like this. But he revels in it anyway, looking like he could devour you.
As your legs move back to their spread position, he marvels at the messy in your panties and the patch of wetness soaking the thin fabric. Softly, his hands trail over your thighs, inching closer and closer until the tips of his fingers reach the area where your cunt meets your thigh.
One of them comes up to thumb over the dainty bow before pulling your panties to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Watching his pretty lips fall apart at the sight of you feels almost as good as the feeling of his eyes on your core. His fingertips tracing your slit with a barely there pressure that has you whining for more.
“Look at you. You’re so fucking pretty,” he mutters under his breath, fingers spreading your folds. His face is twisted into a dazed expression, heavy and relaxed with the feeling of you.
“Please, touch me,” you say with a whine in your voice that only he can evoke. He tuts while his fingers brush over your sensitive clit. You jolt, hips twitching and aching for more. He’s slow to feel you, fingers languidly trailing down to circle your entrance and back up to toy with your clit.
“Y’so warm, sweet girl.” He whispers, now pressing down on your clit with enough pressure to have you moaning. The cloud of ache in your belly turns violent against his calloused fingers.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby.” His breath is heavy. You string together some pathetic words, something about “so good” and “faster,” but he seems to understand as his fingers rub your clit at a pace that has you tipping over the edge embarrassingly quick, the cloud in your tummy bursting into waves of vibrating pleasure.
His fingers keep rubbing at you through your orgasm, only slowing down when your swallow breath turns deeper. Your blood runs hot in your veins, sizzling with leftover pleasure.
“You okay? Wanna keep going?” His palms slide up your thighs.
“Yeah- yes please, I’m okay.”
He leans down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “Good, sweetheart. Can I try something?”
You nod, but bring him down to you with a hand on his shoulder to kiss him again. It’s nothing but teeth and giggles when your lips meet, too excited to properly kiss. He pulls away with a wet smack and brings his sight back down to your soaked cunt. With hungry eyes and bitten lips, he fixes your panties, putting them on properly.
You start, “Eddie, what are you-”
But then he sticks his cock in the small space between your hot cunt and pearl-colored panties before you could finish. He’s placed his body toward that space where your pussy and your thigh meet and pushed his cock to sit in the gap under your panties. Your core is covered by soaked fabric and his thick cock, goosebumps blooming where his skin touches yours.
“Oh,” you mutter breathlessly, the tip of his cock sitting heavy over your clit.
A gutteral noise escapes his lips as he rutts himself painfully slow against your warmth and the smooth fabric, supporting himself with two strong hands on either side of your head. Sparks dances as he itchs forward, pressing against your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your arousal and cum coat his cock and your panties, serving as lubrication and encouragement for him to speed up.
Your body is positively on fire, the tips of your fingers and bottom of your tummy aching in desire. He feels so good against you, rubbing your sensitivity with his bulbous tip. Sparks float behind your closed eyes, exploding like fireworks each time he presses against you just right.
“Shit, baby, w-was just doing this to tease you. Feels too- mmm fuck, too fucking good, though. I’ll fuck you another day, yeah?” It’s pathetic how you moan, his lustful voice sending your already muggy brain reeling. He doesn’t seem to care for an answer, eyes stuck on your tits.
He adjusts your panties over himself, a thumb coming down to tighten the space his cock penetrates. You watch as his tip tightly presses against the soft cotton, precum wetting the fabric even more.
The friction grows against you as his thrusts pick up in speed. His lips capture yours in a heavy kiss, his tongue taking the lead. As you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, it gets harder to kiss him back. Instead your lips spread open, spilling dirty whimpers into his mouth while accepting the pecks he presses on you.
“So close- don’t stop,” you beg with a hand wrapped around his wrist.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The pained tone in his voice and the pinched pleasure in his face expose just how close he is, heavy breaths and groans accompanying each rock of his hips. Your nails rake across his back, gripping where ever you can.
Your blurry eyes trail over him and catch on the silver of his chain. It’s a dainty piece, his signature when it comes to jewelry. You watch it bounce along with the feeling of his cock against you.
The chain disappears from your sight as he leans towards you. As if he’s memorized your body in the short time he’s gotten to explore it, his mouth nips at the sweet spot on your neck while a hand comes up to toy with your nipple. Unexpected and sharp- the final thrusts until you’re squeezing your eyes shut and cumming.
His hand squeezes your waist, chipped nails digging at the hard enough to press bruises for you to find tomorrow. He works you through the rest of your orgasm, prolonging the sparks rumbling at your core.
Before waves of sensitivity and overstimulation wash over you, Eddie cums. Warm spurts of him coat your sticky pussy and drenched panties. He groans, face dropping into your neck.
He’s quiet as he catches his breath, inhaling the scent of sex and smoke and you. You do the same, running a hand up and down his back where you were previously scratching. You wince when he moves, softening dick catching on your sensitive clit.
“I‘m sorry, so sorry sweetheart. I’ll be right back,” he mutters.
You watch as he walks off to the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. He takes off your soiled panties and cleans you up gently. When he’s done, he lays on the bed facing you. You copy him, turning on your side until you’re face to face.
“Was that okay?” Kind fingers come up to brush your hair away from your face.
“More than okay,” you mutter back, reaching up to catch his hand between your own and lace your fingers together against your chest.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His words tingle on your skin, raising warmth to the surface. You lean your head down to kiss his knuckles in a shy response, hoping he can’t see your flustered state.
He lets out an amused huff before reaching over your shoulder with his free hand. He picks up your pink guitar pick and shows it to you with a crooked smile on his lips.
“Want me to teach you that song? What was it again? Don’t remember,” he says, fingers fiddling with the pick.
You groan, already seeing the humor in this and the endless teasing you’re gonna get.
“It was She Goes Down…”
You watch Eddie’s lips break into a smirk, smiling like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “She Goes Down, huh? Yeah, you do.”
You kiss him to shut him up.
<3
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momotonescreaming · 11 months
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Steve Harrington was born a siren, just like his mother. Perfect skin, rosy cheeks, silky soft hair. He had her eyes, her nose, the tilt of her lips. He was supposed to be the perfect son to match Mr Harrington’s perfect wife. Handsome and charming. The heir to the Harrington Empire.
His mother was beautiful, always looking perfect. Not a hair out of place or her lipstick smudged. Steve always thought his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, as all kids do. Turns out he was more right than most. She was ethereal, unapproachable, gorgeous in a way you couldn’t quite place. In a way only sirens can be. No wonder his father wanted her.
When he got older Steve realised it was her siren song, that made his father want her. She could charm anyone with a flick of her hair and a swish of her skirt. A wink and a laugh and you would be entranced. And if she sang, spoke to you with a special lilt to her voice, you would be under her spell. And so he bought her to work parties, on business trips, dinners with potential work partners. And she would charm whoever he wanted charmed. And then his father would be promoted, given a raise, and the cycle repeated.
He didn’t love her, and he didn’t love Steve either. And so Steve didn’t sing. Ever. No singing in the shower, no humming in the halls. No karaoke or lilting his voice. He wasn’t going to entrance anyone. He wasn’t going to con his way to the top, just like dear old dad.
Steve became popular anyway. He was handsome, he was charming, he made people want to do things for him - just by existing. He was a siren. It was easier for him, dealing with people. He knows what they’re feeling, what they crave, what they desire. And it’s so easy to take that want and twist it just so. Make his life a little easier. Make it so maybe, his dad with love him if Steve does what he wants, just like his mother.
It doesn’t work. He’s a disappointment and his father doesn’t love him. He promises to himself to never sing again.
Mrs Harrington taught him everything he knows. What she didn’t tell him about, was the itch, the burning underneath his skin. The all encompassing desire to be in the water. He needs it. He craves it. Apparently, when he was a toddler, he would happily play in the bath for hours and hours and throw a hell of a tantrum when it was time to come out. As a kid, he would spend all Saturday swimming in the pool, only getting out when his father yelled at him.
It wasn’t the same as the lake. The pool was nice, but the water wasn’t fresh. It wasn’t natural. The first time he swam in a lake, on a free afternoon over summer vacation, he grew gills. The more he swam, the more prominent they became, the easier it was to swim. And then his fingers started to web together. It was freeing, it was everything, it was as natural as anything. Young Steve came home with scales growing on his legs only to be met with the stern face of his mother.
He couldn’t swim in the lake again. He can’t transform. People can’t know what he is. What she is. The itch gets worse. He’s constantly sipping at water bottles to alleviate the sensation. It doesn’t really work. He joins the swim team. That doesn’t help either. He doesn’t know how his mother does it.
He dreams of the ocean. His parents leave for another business trip. He sneaks out to Lovers Lake.
Steve hides his car in the trees, finds what he thinks is an old abandoned dock, and strips down to his underwear. He dives in with a perfect arch, and swims until the scales start forming. Coming up for air, Steve doesn’t realise how long it’s been — but it must have been a while since there’s a boy on the dock.
Shoes next to him, ripped jeans rolled up so he can dip his feet in the water. Long curly hair falling in waves around his face. A lit cigarette perched between pink lips. Chocolate brown eyes, fluttering lashes. He’s beautiful, and he’s singing.
Steve can’t stop staring.
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targetf0rce · 6 months
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Single dad Steve and his son, Dustin
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