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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

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yom kippur 1984

summary: the day of fasting, so stuff yourself full the night before

WC: 2.0K

warnings: just cursing.

A/N: the very last in between! i hope everyone has enjoyed these little character moments, this allows for me to be a bit more creative and further character relationships between seasons. are we ready for season 2 now? Season two begins October 7th.

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October 5, 1984

8 pm

“Okay, now remember, no eating or drinking anything all day, except for Will, he can drink water.”

The four of you just finished stuffing yourselves full of dinner and were listening as Joyce was going over the ‘rules’ for Yom Kippur. The one day a year where you have an excuse to skip school and lay in bed all day long, on the downside though, you can’t eat or drink anything until sunset. Although it falls on a Saturday/Sunday this year, so you can’t skip school, damn.

October 6, 1984

1 pm

When it came to Yom Kippur and trying to fight the hungry off, sleeping was your best friend. If you just let the gorgeous dreams take you away, you could sleep perfectly fine for hours on end, unfortunately, your nightmares haven’t fully left you alone yet. So with a nightmare of Steve getting killed, you blotted up right in your bed, the thick blanket making you feel like a furnace all of a sudden and you had to push it away. Your body was sticky with sweat, and strands of hair clung to your face, your sleep shorts and shirt stuck to your figure and it was making you feel so uncomfortable at the moment.

Even though you usually wait until after you eat to shower you couldn’t stand the feeling of your skin and the way pieces of hair were touching you, it was too much. So with the water warm, teetering on steaming hot, the feeling of your bones touching and the way your skin was stretched taut over your muscle was slowly dissipating the longer you stood under the pressure. You stayed under the water with your eyes closed, letting the heat hug you close and comfort you, trying to help in scaring the horrors away.

You let yourself imagine the warmth as Steve’s body, the natural warmth of his skin keeping you safe, his broad shoulders covering your frame as if he were a wall and you were a glorious kingdom that he was made to protect from destruction. The goosebumps that arose on your arms pulled a shaky exhale from your lips, it was almost like you could just feel the feather-light touches of his hands or fingers trailing over you…

“(Y/n)! You’re running all the hot water!”

With your body jerking at the abrupt sound of someone yelling from within the bathroom, you almost slipped on the slick tub, “Christ! Don’t do that!”

You heard some deep chuckling before the door shut closed behind the person, probably Jonathan. With your hands rubbing over your warm and possibly flushed face, you pushed them from your cheeks up into your hair and settled your hands upon your shoulders. With a final exhale you turned the water off and stepped over the lip of the tub and toweled yourself dry. You wiped the stream off the mirror and looked at yourself, or really you just stared at your physical being until you felt like you weren’t floating out of your body and staring down from the ceiling. With a few slaps to your cheeks, you felt okay enough and left the bathroom. Being hit with the coolness of the hallway compared to the bathroom took you off guard for a moment, but was refreshing.

Inside your room, you dig through different drawers in search of a pair of sweatpants and a simple t-shirt to lounge around in for the rest of the day. Satisfied with your clothing selection you made your way back out into the hallway and journeyed towards the landline in the kitchen.

Grabbing the phone off the receiver and with a few in and out breaths to calm yourself, you finally, after all these months of backing out at the last minute, you finally dialed the Harrington house number. Knowing you weren’t going to see Steve at school until tomorrow, you had to make sure to call and just hear his voice. You needed that physical reassurance that he was alive, he was breathing, he was happily smiling or laughing about something. You just needed…

“Harrington residence, this is Steve.”

You froze, you completely forgot you were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, you were waiting for Steve.

“Hello?”

You pulled the phone away for a moment and cleared your throat, “hey Steve, it's (Y/n).”

“And what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call, (Y/n)?” you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice.

“Um, just wanted- wanted to…” you really should have thought of a good excuse.

“Oh, isn’t it one of your holidays? Like your Jewish holidays? Or am I mixing something up and sounding like an idiot?”

“No, no, yeah. It’s- it’s Yom Kippur today, so we’re fasting,” your heart speeds up with the thought of Steve trying to understand a small part of you, as friends, of course.

“So you’re what? Not eating anything?”

“Well, we stopped eating after sunset yesterday, so we had a good dinner before. And now we can’t eat or drink any water until sunset tonight. Well, Will can drink water 'cause he’s a little smaller.”

“Sounds intense,” he joked. You chuckled, “eh, it’s not so bad after a few times. At least I can sleep the day away and have an excuse for my laziness.”

He released a breathy chuckle at your reply back.

His voice sounded different over the phone, with a bit more static and some choppiness to his words. You wish he was right in front of you, sitting with you in the kitchen or sitting on the couch and watching something on your shitty tv, or with the both of you laying on your bed just facing each other. But he wasn’t, so this was the best thing you could get when you didn’t see the other during school.

“Crap. Hey, sorry (Y/n), but I gotta go before I’m late to pick up Nancy. I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Have a good yum kipper.”

You didn’t have it in your heart to correct him after he mentioned Nancy, “yeah, see you tomorrow, Steve. Have fun with Nancy.”

If Steve was about to reply back with something you didn’t hear, you hung up the phone lighting fast.

7:55 pm

After the call with Steve, you trudge back into your room and flopped onto the bed, and hid away in the mess of your blanket and pillows. Sometime during that, you fell back asleep, and thankfully it was just darkness that took over your sleep, no stunning dreams of a happy future, no monsters ripping apart people you care about right before your eyes. Just darkness.

The thing that did pull you from your dreamless state was the feeling of someone shaking you awake. The shaking continued until you were semi-conscious and then your blanket was ripped away from you.

“Holy crap, what?”

The person didn’t reply right away and so you finally turned in their direction, “mom said to wake you.”

Will was leaning over your curled figure. He looked taken aback by your outburst and took a step away from your bed. You moved from your position and came closer to the edge and held out a hesitant hand, hoping Will would take it. You don’t ever snap at Will, if you do it's good joking fun and you can tell from your tone. Today, with not eating or drinking all day and then the phone call with Steve, you got a little testy.

“I- I didn’t mean to snap at you, Will. I’m just tired, and hungry, and a little jealous about something. But I didn’t mean anything mean towards you.”

Your arm was the olive branch that you knew Will would take eventually, the two of you could never stay mad at the other for long. You both had a special bond within the Byers family, two things that Jonathan and Joyce wouldn’t understand.

Will took that one step closer to you and slipped his smaller hand within your larger one and squeezed, well, tried to give a squeeze, “I know, I’m hungry too.”

“What do you think mom or Jonathan made tonight?”

“Uh, I think they actually got something out. Probably too lazy to cook tonight.”

“I hope they got KFC,” you sighed out.

Will was looking down at your joined hands and started to play with your fingers with his free hand. He would bend a finger either in or out, or do some mental counting inside his head. It’s something he’s done since he was little, he likes holding hands with people close to him, it’s his form of intimacy with people.

“I heard you on the phone earlier,” Will whispered into your shared hands.

His statement took you a moment, “oh, you heard me talking with Steve?”

He nodded his head, “is that why you were a bit upset?”

You gazed at Will’s face as he just kept looking at your hands. He was rubbing his lips together in a nervous gesture, and you noticed his eyes would look up through his lashes and take in your expression, he was trying to gauge your expression. He was worried about you.

“Um…I- I guess. It’s just stupid boy stuff, nothing for you to worry about.”

“Do you…like, Steve?”

You tried to play coy, “why? Worried he’s gonna take me away from you, my favorite person?”

Will grinned at the reply.

“It’s just I see you. Sometimes, you’re happy around him, and then other times, he makes you upset. And I don’t want you to like someone who makes you upset.”

You were stunned. You didn’t think Will noticed all those little moments between you and yourself, moments where you let the mask fall and allowed your pure emotions to shine through. When you were with Steve you felt ecstatic, floating on cloud nine high above Hawkins, away from everything. But the mention of Nancy that would eventually fall from his lips made you feel like you just took a huge drop on a giant roller coaster, something completely out of your control and making you feel sick to your stomach.

“Sometimes, we fall for people who will make you both sad and happy. Sometimes they don’t even understand that they are doing those types of things. And sometimes, the heart wants what it wants, even our brains can’t stop that.”

You focused on Will’s face to try and gauge how he took your explanation. His brows furrowed in the middle and his eyes were darting around, it’s like he was trying to understand something deep within his mind. With a hand, you reached up and ran your thumb over the creased v-shape pulling Will’s face.

“You understand what I’m trying to say, buddy? We can’t help who we end up liking, sometimes it’s just out of our hands.”

He just gave a shallow nod. With your hand now falling on his cheek, you gave a quick pinch to the baby fat and finally stood from your bed.

“Come on, pretty sure mom and Jonathan are back now, and I am starving.”

With your hands clasped together the both of you trudged out of your gloomy room and out into the cool hallway, finally joining Jonathan and Joyce in the dining room with the takeout.

“Oh, yes! KFC!”

Jonathan and Joyce both chuckled at your exclamation of joy at seeing the red and white striped packaging. Just the aroma of the fried chicken and sides made all of your stomachs gurgle in sync and in utter joy.

“Okay everyone, we are now allowed to stuff our faces again, but please pace yourselves. (Y/n), I’m talking to you, I don’t want any incidents this year.”

Last year you got a bit too excited to finally eat, that you ended up choking on some piece of bread. Pretty sure Joyce almost had a heart attack as she watched you pounding on your chest and then Jonathan coming over to smack you hard against your back.

Did you learn from your lesson…let’s just say…who knows.

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taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessmxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx / @redheadedfangirl / @agustdeeyaa / @yappydoo /

#The Byers Harrington Story #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things series #stranger things self insert #stranger things x reader #stranger things x female reader #stranger things x reader insert #stranger things reader insert #byers!reader #stranger things x byers!reader

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fictionalthrill · 3 months

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Late Eddie Munson Valentine's Day One-Shot? ❤️

While working on my Steve Harrington I had an idea for an Eddie Munson Valentine's Day One Shot, but I didn't get to it in time.

Is there a rule against posting Valentine's Day themed fan fics after the 14th?

If someone is interested let me know and I'll get to finishing it and uploading it in the coming days! 😊

#stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader insert #reader insert #eddie #munson #hellfire club

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myosotisa · 6 months

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‖ tags: smut, somnophilia, size kink, p in v, praise kink

‖ word count: 380

the two of you have had sex 3 times and you've never been able to take all of him because you just get too in your head about how huge he is. he's so patient with you, never rushing you, prioritizing your comfort over anything else. making suggestions to try to make it better, or saying he'll just fuck you with half so it doesn't hurt you, or that the two of you don't have to do anything at all if you don't want to.

you feel bad, self conscious, slightly ashamed, apologetic. he assures you it's more than fine, sex with you is amazing even if you can't take all of him. but. he knows it's all in your head. he knows your body can take it. he asks if you trust him and of course you say you do.

you wake up on your stomach, naked from the waist down and your shirt rolled up to your armpits. it's hot and sweaty and disorienting but holy shit what is that feeling?!

"there she is," he says in a deep voice, rough from how quiet he's trying to be. "good morning beautiful"

you go to say good morning back but it's cut off with an unexpected moan, a feeling deep inside you shifting. "feel that?" he murmurs, sounding a bit cheeky but so utterly pleased. to make his point more clear he rolls his hips, adjusting his thick cock inside you, and holy fucking shit he's balls deep.

"knew you could take it, baby," he says proudly when you gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath you. he pulls back an inch or two and pushes back in, your back arching as you let out a choked moan. he's so deep, you've never felt anything like this before.

"just had to take your big, nervous brain out of the equation. knew it the whole time - your pussy was begging for it, crying for it. and now you're soaking me, sh-iiit, like you were made for my fat cock," he groans, continuing to slowly shift in and out of you, your muscles clenching around him on each drive forward. "so fucking perfect baby. just keep taking it like a champ and I promise to make you feel so good you'll never worry about me fucking you like this ever again."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #reader insert smut #didnt mention a name but you thought of him didnt you #choose your own cock adventure #myos ideas

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divineecelestial · 11 months

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Pretty Girl [ 2 ] — Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary — Eddie doesn't like when other guys talk about his girl. You think he's stupid because you're not his girl. He proves you wrong.

Word Count — 2.8k

Warnings — Graphic depictions of sexual activity, kinda mean!eddie, enemies to lovers banter, thigh riding, light face slapping, dirty talk

Part One

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

The old metal of the trailer creaked as the door slammed closed. With a wavering hand squeezing his blood-stained nostrils, Eddie glanced away from his reflection in his mirror and poked his head from the restroom doorway. His eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the quick and light footsteps approaching him.

He had practically pleaded with Dustin to not make any more phone calls. He was already embarrassed, more exasperated with the number of times he’s had to stuff his nose with clean tissues, and didn’t want to deal with the scolding and teasing from his friends. Thankfully, none of them had arrived, but, of course, you weren’t like any other person he’d ever met and drove over. If things were different and he wasn’t squeezing his nose with blood seeping beneath his fingernails, he would have paid more attention to the fact that you were there for him. But, stupidly of him, he didn’t think about that. “You came?” He asked, his voice nasally as he squeezed his nose firmly.

Your eyebrows furrowed together with obvious confusion as you neared him. “Of course, I came. Dustin said you needed me.” Now, that wasn’t something he could easily disregard. He wasn’t even sure you knew you had said those words, far too concerned with the pile of bloodied tissues in the corner of the room. You came because he needed you. You pushed his hand aside, carefully tilting his head back and he wordlessly complied. “What happened?”

Now, this was where things became awkward. Roughly an hour ago, Eddie saw something he definitely shouldn’t have. From across the hallway, he watched you. This wasn’t anything new, he could watch you for as long as he could if given the chance, but what was new was the guy across from you. He keeps telling himself he isn’t jealous, couldn’t possibly be. The words overspread his thoughts, suffusing every crevice and space of his head as he watched the spectacle. Maybe, just maybe, if he said the words enough, he’ll eventually believe them. He had to. There isn’t any reason for him to be internally seething with jealousy. You weren’t his. But, God, watching you smile like that because of some random guy was more than enough to have him become nauseous. Seriously, he could feel revulsion bubbling within him.

After you dismissed yourself with a small wave and watched with unfamiliar wrath as this prick motioned for his friends to check you out as you walked away and made a bet on who could fuck you first, he came to a final and startling conclusion. You were his. And that ass these dicks were checking out was definitely not theirs, only his. You ascended up the stairwell and he caught the faintest glance of beneath your skirt. Yeah, that ass and you were only his.

He explained some of what happened and he couldn’t restrain the pleased smile as the concerned softness on your expression deteriorated and was replaced with the familiar annoyance. “You can’t fight people just because they were talking to me.” You sneered.

He removed the small tissue from his nose. “Of course, I can,” He said casually, unbothered by the possessiveness he was displaying. Your glare hardened. “I know you’re mad at me, but you look so good right now.” You did. The sheen of your lipgloss was reflecting from his bedroom light and your hair was styled just how he liked it.

If you were nerved by his words, you didn’t show it. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Even though you were pissed with him, nothing new, your honey-laced words rejuvenated him like a gulp of fresh air. Those butterflies fluttered inside him, threatening to tear through his skin and fly amongst your aura.

He smiled boyishly. “You look really beautiful in this skirt, by the way. It really suits you.”

His bloodstained fingers gingerly plucked at the bottom of your skirt, lifting the fabric teasingly before dropping it. “You are infuriating.” You said through clenched teeth.

“And you are quite possibly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

There was a flash of something in your gaze and he wouldn’t have even caught the change if he hadn’t been mesmerized by the color of your eyes. You blinked and it was gone. “What the hell were you even thinking?” You didn’t know why you even asked. This moron obviously wasn’t thinking.

Another lovesick smile. “You’re all I think about.” His finger caressed the skin above your knee. “You care about my well-being, gorgeous?”

You visibly swallowed. “No, not at all.” You said and you weren’t even convinced by the declaration.

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced as well. “Oh, really?” He asked.

You narrowed your eyes. “Yes, really.”

Eddie’s dubious stare remained on you as he thought for a moment. “You might be able to lie to everyone else and have them fooled, but I can always tell and you’re lying right now.”

You crossed your arms across you chest and chuckled humorlessly. “So you think you know everything about me now?” You didn’t know how to feel about being seen so clearly.

He leaned further back against his bedframe and you despised that he behaved with such a casualness, an obvious nonchalance while you were straining to remain as stoic as you could manage. “No, I do know everything about you and I know deep down you like me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like anything about you.” You lied straight through your teeth, your glittering eyes glowing with a wave of irate anger reserved solely for him. You knew you were lying because there was a different layer of him you were discovering every day and you hated it. you hated that he wasn’t as terrible as you initially thought he was.

“Tell me more.” He demanded, slowly looming closer to you.

“I’m not flirting with you,” You clarified, “This isn’t some dirty talk.”

His face was disconcertingly close to you and even though you pretended the close proximity disgusted you, you didn’t move. “You’re right. This is better.” And for a moment, neither of you said something. “I never noticed your eyes were this pretty.” He could see you; the depths of your eyes illuminated beneath the light, each shadow accustomed to the shadows and darkness glistening on display for him. Small wrinkles creased by your eyes as you softly smiled, a tenderness reserved for him at that moment, and damn, he swore his breath was yanked from his lungs at the sight. “Don’t look at me like that.” He suddenly said.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“The way you’re looking at me, it’s turning me on.”

Your expression transformed into disbelief before glancing down at his crotch, merely a few inches away. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

He grinned shamelessly. “Can you blame me?” He asked brazenly. “Look at you.” Truth be told, if it was regarding you, it didn’t take much at all for him to get hard.

You refrained from expressing how much you like this. “It’s been less than fifteen minutes and you already have a boner. Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

There wasn’t any hesitation as he answered. “Absolutely.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop distracting me.” You pushed his head back again, closely examining inside. The bleeding had stopped and there didn’t appear to be any visible fractures. He would be okay with some ice. “So what were they even saying?” You asked, referring to moment that apparently started everything.

Eddie stiffened, hardly noticeable. “Doesn’t matter. I took care of it.”

“If it’s about me, I deserve to know.”

A moment passed and then another, and he didn’t answer. You were going to ask again in a much more demanding and firmer way when he suddenly sighed heavily. “They were making bets on who could fuck you first.” You could the admission burn his tongue like acrid poison.

Your breathing hitched as you processed his admittance. “You were defending me?” You quietly asked. This definitely made things worse for you. The reason he was starting fights, bruising his knuckles with dark redness and scrapes and scratches, was because they were talking about you. Eddie Munson was defending you in his own perverse way.

“Obviously. You’re not up for grabs. You’re mine.” The way he spoke with careless possession shook you to the core. It was as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And you supposed to him, it was.

Your walls were slowly tumbling and crashing down. Fix it, your brain screamed. “I’m not yours.”

He smirked and it was almost devilish. “Not yet.”

“Not ever.” You corrected, choosing to ignore the fire coursing through you.

That insolent smirk never dwindled. “I see you’re still pretending you aren’t madly in love with me.” He said with sweet amusement.

Any and all snarky remarks were stolen from you as his hand gently touched your thigh. So soft. So tender. Fucking fix it, your brain screamed. “I hate you.” Was all you could pathetically manage.

His touch was so simple, feather-light, but it left fire trails on your skin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t have let me cum for you.”

Another observation you couldn’t find a response for. “A mistake that’s never happening again.”

His hand moved upward, so slow you were restraining yourself from shoving his hand beneath your clothes. “You liked it. I know you did.” He said and you despised knowing this was nothing but the truth. He was confronting you, teasing you because you couldn’t deny it. If you really didn’t like watching him stain his clothes with cum, you wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. You would’ve punched him, reported him, done anything other than spread your legs and tease him. You didn’t like it, you loved it. “I bet you touched yourself when you got home.”

You did. You touched yourself with your fingers until they ached, came with muffled screams as you shoved your face into a pillow until your vibrator’s batteries died, and you even used your showerhead. Hearing him moan and whine like a pathetic boy was fucking filthy and you were soaking through your panties by the time you stepped inside your room.

He took your silence as admission. “Fuck, you really did, didn’t you?” He could feel the warmth radiating from beneath your skirt, teasing his fingertips. If he wasn’t hard enough earlier, he was now. He twitched beneath his jeans. “Sit on my lap.”

Don’t do it. “You’re delusional if you think I’m gonna—”

“Don’t be a fucking brat and sit on my lap.” Your brain was losing and you were thinking with your body—your body that was craving him like he was some addicting drug. Without another word, you slowly crawled to him and plopped down on his clothed thigh like you were always meant to be there. You could feel him throbbing against your clit. He was big and thick. His eyes closed for a second, processing what was happening. This was a slice of heaven served to him on a golden platter. “Get yourself off on my thigh, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.”

And just like that, any delusion you might’ve had that you were capable of turning him down, was flushed down the drain. “What?” You asked breathlessly. In that moment, he could’ve demanded you kiss his sneakers and you would’ve fluttered your eyelashes at him as you did so.

He gripped your face with a firmness that might’ve made you whimper if you weren’t so shocked. He squeezed your cheeks with one hand, forcing your lips into a teasing pout. “Rub that pretty pussy on my thigh and make yourself cum.” He wasn’t asking. This was a demand he knew you were going to do for him.

You released a wavering breath as you began to move against him and you could hear your arousal clinging against his jeans. This was embarrassing. But not to him. He was probably sick enough to lick your juices from where you’d been rubbing. “Suck on my fingers and keep those pretty eyes open. Look at me, baby.” His fingers that weren’t tainted by his own blood were inside your mouth and you eagerly sucked, licking and kissing them as if they were his leaking cock. Your lips were flushed as you hollowed your cheeks and he watched you drooled on his fingers with heart eyes. “You are fucking beautiful. Let me see those pretty tits.”

There wasn’t any hesitation this time as you lifted your blouse, displaying your breasts and pinching yourself. Another twitch from his cock and he jerked his hips, earning a soft moan from you. “I could cum just by looking at them, pretty girl.”

You removed his fingers from your mouth. “Call me that again,” Your voice was soft, breathless, and laced with a vulnerability he’d never heard from you before. “Please.” Desperate. Needy.

The arrogant smirk on his pink lips was annoying and you wanted to sit on his face so you wouldn’t have to see it. “Aw, you like being called my pretty girl?” There wasn’t any thoughts floating within your mind. All you could think of was the liquid lava moving through your bloodstream as you rubbed your clit against his cock faster. You only nodded. “I thought you hated me? But look at you, drooling for my cock.”

It was pathetic because you were drooling. You were never going to hear the end of this. He slapped your cheek lightly, pleasantly stinging. His touch didn’t hurt, it never did, but it did get a message across. “Let me hear those pathetic sounds. You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you not make any noise.” He was going to memorize and repeat this moment for every time he spit in his hand and jerked himself off. He needed to hear you. He was losing his composure and there was another slap. “I’ve been wanting this for years so fucking moan and say my name.”

“O-Oh, my fucking God, this feels so fucking good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickening your pace. Your facade of disgust and hatred disappeared. “Fuck yes, Eddie!” His hands gripped your waist, fingers dipping into the skin of your ass, and he pushed you down harder against him. “Just like that. Just like that.”

His warm and erratic breaths brushed against your jaw. The softness of his lips kissing and sucking as he moaned against your skin. “Come on, baby, make me cum. You can do it, just keep rubbing that pussy on me. Give it to me.”

His mouth moved against your breasts, kitten-licking your peaked nipples before sucking. Something inside you snapped and there was nothing but blinding pleasure, strong enough to steal the moans and air from your throat as you chased your pleasure. Your eyes closed before there were smaller and quick slaps against your cheek. “Look at me when you cum.” His calloused hand slowly drifted to your throat, a firm and shaky grip.

His body twitched and squirmed beneath you as he whimpered against your chest, tongue swirling against your nipple and his hand squeezing the other. Your movements slowly came to a stop and he released your breast with a playful pop.

His fingertips gently caressed the softness of your cheek, lingering a moment longer on each mark coloring her skin. You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand as you closed your eyes. You listened to the hard and quick patter of her heart, to each slow and deliberate breath of his, and the rustling of the leaves outside. And you swore if you listened closely enough, you would’ve heard the thumping beneath his chest. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” He whispered, a thought escaping his quivering mouth before he could even process his own voice. You ruined him, tore out his thumping heart with your manicured nails, and devastated him—a devastation he craved, needed like the blood coursing through his veins. He would’ve bruised his knees worshipping the floor you stepped on. You had undoubtedly ruined him and he couldn’t do anything about it but thank you.

In a daze, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pressed your glossed lips against his. He couldn’t breathe. You were kissing him, drunk from your orgasm, bare skin against his thick cock, and he couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He didn’t move. He didn’t kiss you back. At the lack of reciprocation, you pulled away.

The softness of your lips lingered on his, a ghostly remnant of a daydream he’s had for as long as he could remember. His eyes slowly fluttered open, shock swirling in the pools of darkness. His breathing hitched as he forced himself to breathe. Slow and steady. But he couldn’t because he swore he could almost still taste you. Outside, inside the community and neighborhoods of Hawkins, no one would’ve guessed Hawkin’s It-Girl kissed him, your sweet perfume entangled with his cheap cologne. That’s something nobody could’ve predicted, including himself. Well, and that you rode him until you made yourself and him cum.

Your hair cascaded across your skin as you tilted your head, trying to decipher the gleam in his eyes. Your lips were flushed as if you’d been gnawing on them, and you almost pouted at what you thought was rejection. Disappointment colored your expression and you scooted away from him, suddenly uncomfortable with the silence of the room. “I’m sorry I kissed you.” You stood from him and straightened your clothes, readjusting them. “Let’s just forget about it.”

And you were out the door before he could explain that he literally couldn’t talk or function because his dream girl made him cum so hard he was seeing stars.

Shit.

Taglist — @eddiesguitarskills @twihard08 @twilight-love-nochu-main @names-were-taken @definitelynotecho @sidthedollface2

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson series #eddie munson self insert #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

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theflowerrooms · 1 year

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{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {main masterlist}

Weak For It

perv!bestfriend!Eddie Munson x reader

This was a request from the lovely @tracymbcm that got flagged and taken down by tumblr </3 thank you to those who brought it to my attention <3

Warnings: smut, swearing, pet names, friends with benefits, explicit warnings under the cut

Summary; Eddie’s best friend, Eddie’s favourite girl, it doesn’t take much to get him needy for you, the pervert can’t keep his hands off of you and you live for it.

wordcount: 1.6k

explicit warnings: soft dom!eddie, fingering (f receiving, overstimulation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, light foot stuff, slight exhibition

Thank you so much for the request, I love writing them so much! And thank you for reading!!!

It was hot, the thick Indiana heat warming up all of Hawkins as the sun started to set, but you weren't bothered, neither was Eddie. The small air conditioner in the trailer buzzed quietly and a box fan on the floor blew nice cool air on you and Eddie, where you were both sprawled out on his couch. Your favourite thing about the couch was that it definitely wasn't big enough for two people, so you and Eddie were always squished together.

He sat on the couch, clad in nothing but loose, red, plaid pyjama pants, leaning back as he halfway paid attention to the movie on the TV, Friday The 13th. It was about the thousandth time you'd seen it together but Eddie loved it, and you'd watch anything for him. You were laying next to him on your stomach, just wearing one of his old Motörhead band tees and white lace panties, your white-socked feet laying on his lap, just above his crotch.

You were both kind of tired, not ready to sleep. It was comfortable, relaxing under the cool air in the warm weather, Eddie's left hand on your thigh and his right hand holding your ankle, you were comfortable, hanging out with your best friend, watching beloved movies.

You pressed your feet together and downward, moving them slightly, completely absentmindedly, just comfortable, you didn't even notice. But Eddie noticed. His fingers twitched against your ankle as you fully unintentionally rubbed against his cock that twitched beneath his pants.

He knew it wasn't on purpose, fully aware that you had no idea you were teasing his cock right now. 5 minutes ago, you just looked like his best friend, relaxing for a movie, and now when he looked up at you, his breath got caught in his throat. You were in his shirt, you smelled like him, showing off your pretty ass in those panties that he loved. He swallowed hard and squeezed your thigh, groping it just slightly.

You hardly payed any attention to it, Eddie's obsessed with you, his hands were always on you. You shifted your hips, spreading your thighs just slightly as you got comfortable and you heard Eddie exhale shakily.

You were hardly confused for a second before his grip on your ankles tightened and he pressed your feet downward, bucking his hips up slightly and you smirked, feeling his erection through his thin pyjamas.

His other hand moved up your thigh slowly, goosebumps following the path it took until he pushed his shirt up your back just a bit, his large hand, slightly cold falling to your ass, squeezing one cheek before he spread them slightly. You hummed quietly, feeling him roll his hips forward again. You were quickly growing wet under your panties and you were sure he knew.

You flinched and whimpered quietly as he pulled his hand back and slapped your ass, he exhaled loudly again as he continued to grope at your ass and thighs. "S'pretty", he mumbled under his breath and you heard, blushing slightly even though Eddie's complimented you and called you pretty a million times at least in the time you'd been friends.

He caught you off guard again when he brought his fingers to your warm core, pressing against your panties. You whimpered out his name quietly as you could feel the fabric growing damp from your arousal. "Shh." He soothed you quietly as he rubbed over your covered entrance, hand on your ankle squeezing tightly so he'd control his composure.

He continued rubbing you through your panties, getting you worked up, purposefully avoiding touching your clit. You tried raising your hips to guide his hand further down to your sensitive button but he put his hand on your back and forced you back down, continued teasing you until you were soaking through the cotton and lace of your panties.

You whimpered softly still, chewing down on your bottom lip in anticipation until Eddie got bored of teasing you and pulled your panties to the side, easily slipping his middle and index fingers inside of you, quickly hooking them downward so he'd press against your g-spot with each pull of his fingers.

You sighed in content, hips unintentionally pushing back against his hand. Your body was heating up but it was still comfortable due to the fan facing the two of you, for which you were grateful, nobody got you so hot like Eddie.

Eventually he pulled his fingers out and helped you shift over onto your back, hooking one leg over the back of the couch and one leg stretched out over his lap, his cock pressing into the bottom of your thigh.

He kissed your knee and rested his head against your calf up on the back of the couch and slid his middle and ring finger back in you, revelling in the soft whimper you let out. Finally, he pressed his thumb against your neglected clit and you whined with want, you whined again after you heard him groan under his breath just from watching you.

What they say about guitarists is true, Eddie was so talented with his hands. Your eyes squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed as you focused on the painfully pleasurable sensations that Eddie's fingers gave you. He bullied your g-spot and your clit simultaneously as you whimpered and twitched, back arching as your stomach began to feel warm and your heartbeat became louder.

"Eddie-" "I know baby, c'mon." He kept the same pace and you focused on the feeling, waiting until the energy built and built until the dam broke and you moaned so loud, walls spasming around Eddie's fingers. "Good girl, good girl baby" he kissed your knee a few times as you caught your breath.

Once you regained your ability to think, you saw him staring at your sensitive cunt, felt him rock hard against your thigh. You reached down and swiped your fingers through your slick before spreading your lips for him, "Please, Eddie?" It was seconds before he was pushing himself onto his knees and shoving down his pants, heavy cock slapping against his lower stomach.

Your cunt ached at the sight of him, he grabbed your thigh that was previously resting on him and he held your leg against his side, slowly sliding his hard cock deep into you until you felt it in your stomach, moaning softly.

He dropped his head down to your neck groaning in your ear as he slowly began to thrust into you, leaving wet kisses over the side of your neck. You hummed and thrusted your hips back to encourage him to go faster, and he did. His grip on your thigh tightened and you were sure there would be bruises from his fingertips over your flesh but you didn't mind at all, you loved when Eddie left marks.

You moaned loudly, his soft hair brushing against your face was comforting as he fucked you like an animal. Very quickly, you felt like you were gonna cum again, so sensitive, you prayed that you wouldn't squirt over his cock because how would you explain that to Wayne?

He felt you squeezing him over and over again and let go of your thigh to reach down and rub tight circles over your clit until you were twitching and crying, needing to cum so bad. He lifted his head and looked down at you, as soon as he saw your tears he moaned so loud, leaning down and sloppily kissing the tears off your face. "Be good 'n cum for me, c'mon." He whispered to you and finally you did, cunt contracting around his cock as you shook in his hold.

He fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own, he was so close, and your clenching around him repeatedly as you cried was throwing him toward his release. The sun was set now, the moon visible through the curtains, as was the headlights of Wayne's truck.

But Eddie was so close, so he threw his hand over your mouth and fucked you harder, getting off on your muffled whines and your tears against his hand, and finally, he came deep inside of you, fucking it even deeper.

In one swift motion, Eddie pulled his pants up over his hips, fixed your panties and pulled his shirt further down to cover you up, sitting you in his laps.

He wiped your eyes and face of your tears as you heard the keys in the door and you both smiled sleepily at Wayne when he walked inside.

"Y'okay dear?" He asked, voice gruff and tired from a long day of work, he tossed his keys on the table and looked at you and Eddie.

You nodded, heart pounding in anxiety and embarrassment at potentially getting caught. "Yes sir, jus' tired." You smiled and he nodded at you.

He walked toward the bathroom and looked back at you both. "Take her to bed Son, 'fore she keels over in the livin' room." He chuckled and Eddie nodded and helped you up off the couch, walking you to his room.

"Goonight Wayne." Eddie said as you passed Wayne and walked through the bedroom door, you flopped down on Eddie's bed and the scent- just Eddie was comforting.

"G'night boy- light a candle next time would ya? Smells like sex in here." Wayne huffed before he entered the bathroom, and you and Eddie couldn't do anything but stare at each other with wide eyes and red faces.

But if you asked Eddie, you made him weak, and all the embarrassment in the world would be worth it to have you.

Thank you so much for all of the support I received last time I published this </3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #smut #petalwrites #stranger things s4 #eddie munson stranger things #reader insert #requested

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #Single mom!reader #reader insert

10K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words

Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.

“Yeah,” you say without thinking.

You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter.

It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications of losing those bits of clothing. Whether or not you want them.

Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over.

You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed.

You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties.

You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring.

You try to make your voice sound casual as can be.

“What’re you doing?”

“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?”

You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit.

“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m not sure if—if I want—”

“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.”

“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.”

You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.”

You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.”

Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?”

You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears.

“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?”

Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit.

Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.”

You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?”

“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?”

It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?”

“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.”

He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised.

“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs.

“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.”

“Oh, you’re selling it now.”

“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.”

You blink. “Really?”

Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”

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sweetblinginrose · 19 days

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

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vivwritescrappythings · 1 month

Text

Velma

eddie munson x fem!reader

You attend a Halloween party with Eddie, things don't go quite as planned when Jason Carver acts like a jerk.

cw: allusions to curvy reader, drinking, drugs, blood, violence, eddie fights off screen, body insecurities, kissing, not proofread, working on writing fluff

Word Count: 5.5k

masterlist

—

“Are you gonna go to Chelsea Hanover’s Halloween party?” Eddie asked, long legs hanging out the back of his van. His stained Reeboks were planted firmly on the concrete, knees pushing out of the rips in his black jeans. You sat in the parking lot of the movie theater, eating the remainder of the snacks you hadn’t finished earlier. The night was quiet, most Hawkins residents already tucked safely into their beds.

You paused midway through trying to shove a handful of popcorn into your mouth, is Eddie going insane? “Are you going to Chelsea Hanover’s Halloween party?” You were practically gawking as you swung your sock-covered feet in the crisp night air. The sneakers you wore had been abandoned in a pile on the shag carpet.

You thought Eddie was over all the stupid high school activities at this point, with it being his third go at senior-year and all. He’d never talked about going to a party in the past six months of your budding friendship, and, in Hawkins, there were plenty of parties to attend.

He was quiet as he took another drink from his slushie, red-stained lips turning up into a smirk. “I was thinking about going to sell. Make some money off the rich kids.”

“What, do you want me to come entertain you?” There was an edge to your voice that you didn’t expect. Your chest felt tight as soon as he brought up the party, anxiety knitting your lungs together. You traced the cracks in the asphalt with your eyes.

Your frustration wasn’t meant for Eddie, it rarely ever was.

You had to stop pretending that all your so-called friends from your junior year of high school weren’t because of Billy. None of them had even bothered to speak to you since he dumped you like trash last summer. And especially not since the day of his funeral. They were fake and plastic people.

Eddie chuckled, fishing his carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He didn’t seem to notice how stiff you’d become, your legs rigid in the night air. “Well, yeah. If you want. It could be a night of making fun of Hawkins’ finest.”

You smiled weakly, trying to hide the sour mood that had come over you. Eddie just wanted a friend to be there–you knew Gareth and Jeff would say no immediately. You didn’t want to throw him to the wolves alone. Chelsea Hanover’s parties were awful if you didn’t know anyone or didn’t want to dance. Eddie didn’t seem like much of a dancer to you. “You know what, sure. Count me in, Munson.”

His pearly white teeth lit up in the glow of his lighter as he brought the cigarette to his lips, a smile radiating across his masculine features. A tendril of anxiety wrapped around your throat as you filed through worst-case-scenarios, each growing more and more catastrophic.

Your stomach did a flip as you pushed the bucket of popcorn aside, trying to be subtle as your thoughts raced. You suddenly obsessed about how your thighs pressed together and your bra cut into the layer of excess fat in your back, all new discoveries in the past couple of months. Your mother had reminded you that being thin at eighteen would be harder than being thin at seventeen—you’d locked yourself in your bathroom to cry for the better part of your birthday after stepping on the scale.

Eddie didn’t seem to notice your turmoil, methodically chewing as though everything was fine. Of course he wouldn’t notice, he didn’t understand the intricacies of girlhood that made your skin feel too tight. You fluffed your sweater out, suddenly self-conscious about what areas of your body it was snug against.

Robin would help you find a costume.

—

The high socks squeezed just above your knees as you made your way up to the front door, red skirt swishing around the middles of your plush thighs with each step. You took a deep breath, a wave of heat and sound rolling over you as you opened the door. There were people in a variety of costumes everywhere inside. A few classmates nodded at you in acknowledgment as you shut the door and stepped into the humid living room, quickly turning their attention back to their friends.

Where was Eddie? You did a once over of the room, scanning the edges of the dance floor for the shaggy-haired boy. The couches had all been pushed out of the way to make space for a makeshift dance floor, the stereo in the corner booming Cyndi Lauper. It was a miracle that it couldn’t be heard outside.

The clusters of people spilled into the kitchen. There was limited space to weave through the crowd, you kept whispering apologies as you made your way to the other room. Upon entering, you were handed a cup of red punch from a boy you vaguely knew from English. You offered him a smile, a nod in his direction as you raised the cup to your lips.

You wrinkled your nose as you took a sip, it was strong.

There were no traces of Eddie anywhere. The room was filled with Indiana Joneses and Maddonas and Ghostbusters and Flashdance characters. No curly-headed metalheads in sight, though. Eddie didn’t seem like someone who would wear a Halloween costume, not for a party he was planning on dealing at.

You leaned against the breakfast counter lazily, watching the people on the dance floor bump into one another. The plastic cup stuck to your fingers as you gulped down the rest of the drink, grimacing at the after taste of vodka. You traced the edges of the porcelain tiles as you took up your place as a designated wallflower.

You downed four more cups of the punch before you got restless, deciding to investigate the rest of the party before accepting defeat. Your feet shuffled in slow motion as you approached the sliding glass door on the other end of the room. It was open, allowing teens to trickle outside and spread across the dark backyard.

The smell of cigarettes and weed wafted through the door as the autumn breeze picked it up, sparking a small flame of hope that your best friend was outside.

You tripped on the door track as you stepped into the much cooler night, steadying yourself and your sloshing drink against the doorframe before looking up. There were a few groups outside, most nursing drinks or joints or cigarettes and murmuring to one another. The music coming from the living room was so faint that you could barely make out the lyrics.

“Hey, Velma!” Your head slowly turned towards the voice, your lips buzzing as the alcohol settled in. Eddie was illuminated by the soft light diffused by the curtains in the kitchen window. He sat at a metal table with his trusty lunch box, head cocked slightly to the side as he absorbed your costume. You realized he was wearing a dark green “Corroded Coffin” t-shirt under his leather jacket and dark jeans, meaning you vaguely matched.

If you squinted, or drank too much.

You fell into the chair next to him with an oof!, crossing your legs at the ankles as you leaned back. Your head lolled back to rest on the weathered cushion as a breathy laugh escaped your throat. “We match,” you said, looking at how the stars were swirling in the sky. Your breaths were heavy as you waited for the world to still, a smile stretching its way across your face regardless.

“I didn’t know you were gonna come in costume, princess,” Eddie laughed, busily rolling joints to keep his hands occupied. You placed the sticky plastic cup on the table before stretching your arms out in front of you. Your gaze traced the wide cable-knit of the orange sweater, wiggling your fingers as you contemplated.

Self-consciousness reared its ugly head, making you sit up and lean closer to the brunette. “Do I look bad?” you whispered, fingertips finding the edge of your skirt. Your eyes were wide as he paused to study you, a soft grin breaking out on his face. You waited for his judgment, fiddling with anything in your reach before landing on braiding a thin strip of your hair.

“You look great,” he assured. There was a beat of silence, your heads still bent together conspiratorially. Eddie looked like he was thinking, his tongue licked his bottom lip. “You should’ve told me you were gonna dress up, I would’ve done it with you.”

“You already look like you did, Shaggy,” you murmured with a sly half smile, taking another drink as you settled back into the metal chair. Eddie grinned, glancing down at his own outfit.

Everything got all fuzzy on the edges as you finished the red liquid in your cup, joking with Eddie between drug deals. The basketball players who came by barely looked at you, only sparing glances as Eddie overcharged them for weed.

He didn’t notice the cold shoulders, or he at least pretended not to, making fun of their costume choices as soon as they walked away. You pretended like they didn’t bother you. It felt strange to be at one of these parties after everything that happened with Billy, you’d never felt more invisible.

But Eddie saw you, his brown eyes drifting to you more often than usual. You couldn’t tell if it was just because he was worried about how much you were drinking. You found yourself liking the way he talked, hands waving wildly as his voice slid into different impersonations of the people around you. He was always so genuinely Eddie, you wondered what it would feel like to be like that.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said as Eddie’s attention was pulled away by a group of juniors with wide eyes and crumpled dollar bills. He gave you a thumbs up as he rifled through the contents of his stash.

You swayed a bit as you stood, your grip on the plastic cup crumpling it slightly. The juniors eyed you as you walked around the edge of their little group, Eddie’s voice spitting out prices calling their attention back to him.

Armed with a deep breath to ground yourself, you shouldered your way back into the house. There were even more people than before. With no room to move properly, you jammed yourself into the throng of people that were making their way to the kitchen. Despite how many people were here there was surprisingly still plenty to drink.

You had never known Chelsea to be so generous, at least not during your short-lived friendship.

You stopped in front of the punch bowl, staring at your wobbling reflection in the liquid as you filled your cup with the ladle. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you hardly recognized yourself. The proportions of your face were so different than when you primped and prepped in the mirror, your gaze felt less harsh as you stared at the girl in the punch bowl. You could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks as you glared at the rose-colored image of yourself, wondering what you actually looked like.

A hand clasped your shoulder, an anchor back to reality. You pivoted on your heel, thinking that Eddie had come to talk to you about something, maybe ready to leave and go find somewhere to park and talk and listen to music.

Your face fell when you recognized Jason Carver’s blue eyes.

It had been ages since Jason had so much as talked to you. He used to follow Billy around like a puppy, hoping that it would make him the captain of the basketball team after graduation. Of course, Billy had treated Jason like the rest of you, rewarding his neediness with a cold shoulder.

“You know, Billy would be so disappointed if he was still here.” Jason may as well have spit on you. You stepped back, your spine pressing into the chilly counter as you tried to put some space between you. His eyes had a hard time settling, staring you up and down as you tried to remain still under his gaze. “He probably wouldn’t even recognize you, especially now that you’re hanging out with the losers.”

You scowled, rage making your throat tighten. “He didn’t even like you, Jason.” Blonde eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’m sure he’s rolling in his grave knowing that the pathetic Jesus kid who would’ve blown him if he asked is in charge of the basketball team.”

You were getting a little too loud, the people standing nearest to you were turning their heads to see what the commotion was about. Jason evaluated the crowd before grabbing your wrist, a sick smile spreading across his face. “I think you’ve had enough.” There was a threatening edge to his voice as he leaned to whisper in your ear.

You strained against him, the punch sloshing over the edges of the cup and down your fingers. Droplets flecked onto his yellow Teen Wolf costume like blood. Panic started to creep up your throat, the reminder that none of the other people at the party were going to help you made your blood run cold.

“Jason, stop,” you muttered, your voice thick. More punch slid down your hand as you tried to tug yourself from his grip. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you attempted to find a way out. “Let me go.”

He squeezed your wrist even tighter as hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. You were sure long lines of mascara were left behind, you couldn’t even move your free hand to wipe them away. Fear paralyzed you as the pounding of the music filled every space in your mind. Your mind whirred uselessly, so caught off guard by the aggression that you hardly knew how to respond.

A ringed hand wrapped around Jason’s forearm; you flinched at the sudden intrusion. Eddie was bristling next to you, squeezing the jock’s arm until he let you go. You pulled your wrist back to your chest, your brows knitting together as your lips fell into a pout.

The metalhead pushed his lunchbox into your stomach, his eyes dark as they scoured your face. “How about you go wait in the van, princess? The keys are inside the box,” he murmured, his expression leaving no room for protest. You hesitated a moment, causing him to jerk his chin smoothly toward the front door. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, his jaw set.

Suddenly shy, you dropped your gaze to the floor. Everything was swimming around you, the party too loud and the room too hot and your hands were so sticky with punch. You’d never felt more overwhelmed.

Nodding once, you gripped the handle of the lunchbox for dear life as you scurried out of the house. By the time the night air hit you, you realized you were still holding the cup, most of it empty as it coated your hand and stained the skin. You choked back the rest of its contents, crumpling it in your hand and tossing it into the grass. Eddie’s van was parked across the street, looking out of place amongst the other cars.

–

You were almost asleep in the passenger seat by the time Eddie threw the door open, scaring you into waking up. He was obscured by the lights of the house behind him as he climbed inside. “Eddie, what happened?” you croaked as he tried to jam the keys into the ignition, his hands practically vibrating.

You gasped as he turned to look in the center console. His right eyebrow was caked entirely with blood, a gash splitting it nearly in two. Blood was smeared in a trail down his face, following the curve of his nostril and making its way over his pale throat and to his shirt collar. He plucked a cigarette carton out of the glove box, the streetlamp illuminating the smears of blood across his pale fingers. His knuckles were blown apart.

“Eddie,” you murmured, reaching across the center console hesitantly. He still didn’t look at you, rummaging around for his zippo. The house beyond was relatively quiet, no signs of a party other than all the cars parked along the sidewalk. Jason walked into view of the upstairs bathroom window, glaring at the van before pulling down the shade. His face was smeared with blood, his costume ruffled.

The chains on Eddie’s jacket sleeve jingled as he lit the cigarette, taking a drag with a sigh. “Eddie.” You hesitated for a moment before you pressed your palm into the worn leather. You could feel the muscles in his shoulder jump under your fingertips–you rarely ever touched him. It just felt like a boundary the two of you never crossed. “Y-you didn’t have to do that,” you said.

The heater and the radio jumped to life, Dio blasting in the small space. Eddie’s brows furrowed as he turned to study your face. “Of course I had to,” his voice was surprisingly soft. His hand came out of nowhere, a warm thumb wiping your cheek. Your nerves must have been fried, because you leaned into his touch without thinking about it. “That idiot made you cry, couldn’t just let him get away with it.”

You pulled in a ragged breath, a bit surprised by the amount of tenderness in his voice. His hand was so warm, his fingers wiping away the lines of makeup that ran down your cheeks when you cried. Shaking fingers brought the cigarette back to his pink lips, you watched him take a drag and blow the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“Can we go?” you whispered, your voice hoarse as your throat tightened. It was all you could do to keep from crying, you didn’t even know why you wanted to cry this time.

He smiled, nodding as he pulled away from the curb like a maniac. His hand dropped from your face, turning the radio up until the heavy sound of a guitar riff was blasting through the speakers.

—

Apparently it was Wayne’s night off, so the trailer was off-limits for a late night sanctuary. That was how you ended up at the quarry, the side door pulled open as you and Eddie sprawled out in the back of the van. You’d guzzled a bottle of water as soon as you parked, already starting to feel like a bit of a human being again.

Eddie had cleaned up his face with the bandana he kept in his back pocket. The gash in his eyebrow looked painful, but he kept assuring you it was fine. He sat against the wall of the van as he wiped his knuckles, the largest one on his right hand slightly torn.

It was like once you all had crossed the barrier of touch, Eddie didn’t want to stop. He just kept touching you, be it a hand brushing against your arm or his leg jostling yours. It felt shockingly comfortable, making you wonder why you had been so resistant to touching him before.

“Those rings must not have felt nice,” you commented absentmindedly, laying on your stomach on the carpet as you watched him. Moonlight flooded in the van through the open door, glinting off the silver that adorned his fingers.

He smiled, flexing his hands as he looked down at them. “Carver didn’t seem too excited about them,” he murmured, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You’d cleaned most of the makeup off your face on the drive to the quarry using a baby wipe you kept in your purse. He hardly ever saw you with a clean face, the moonlight revealing a few blemishes on your skin. The urge to cover your cheeks still lingered, but it felt nice to have it off.

“Thanks for like, defending my honor and stuff,” you murmured, looking down at your chipped nail polish. “You really didn’t have to do that, Eddie.”

The idea that he would go out of his way to fight Jason Carver on your behalf was still hard for you to wrap your head around. Eddie loved to talk and bitch and complain about the basketball team and larger society regularly, but he wasn’t violent.

“I did.” His eyes searched yours, wide and honest as always. A joint found its way between his long fingers, he took a deep drag. You watched him through heavy eyelids as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, he continued until he’d finished nearly half the joint. “I couldn’t just let him mess with you like that, not my girl.”

My girl. My girl. My girl. The phrase went off in your head like a bell. You didn’t know if he’d said it just because he was high or if he actually meant it like that. You wet your lips with your tongue, glancing at him for a moment.

“Well, thanks,” you breathed, twirling your fingers in a loose thread on one of the weaved blankets he kept in the back of the van. You had wrapped yourself in it on multiple occasions, mostly on cold nights when you were ungodly high. But tonight, alcohol thrummed through you like liquid fire.

Eddie finished the remainder of the joint on his own, his warm brown eyes tinged with pink as his smile stretched easier. There was a fluidity to him when he was stoned, his normally theatrical mannerisms mellowing out to something that seemed less like a performance and more genuine. His movements became more languid, his lanky form sprawling out on a half-deflated bean bag. His calf rested on top of your leg.

The cassette that was playing ended, the power chords fading into silence as you heard the player whir to a stop. The water lapping at the cliff face below and the breeze rustling the foliage outside the van seemed louder, indicative of the transition from fall to winter that was soon to come.

“You want to pick the next one?” Eddie asked, his voice soft and breathy like it always got when he was stoned. It was sweet of him to ask, considering you knew that he already had a playlist of what he wanted to put on next written out in his head. He was particular about music, always wanting to be in-control of what was playing no matter where you were.

You knew he meant for you to pick from his cassette collection.

“Yeah,” you answered, a smirk starting to spread on your face. You stood up, your feet digging into the shag carpet as you crouched to avoid hitting your head. “I’ve got a Madonna tape in my purse that I’ve been wanting to listen to.”

“Madonna?” You could hear the anguish in his voice as you stepped over his long legs to reach the front. There was an air of disbelief at your choice, Eddie couldn’t stand Madonna.

You laughed, nodding as you pulled the aforementioned tape from your bag and flashing it to Eddie. “You said I could pick,” you teased, hunkering down in front of the radio to exchange the cassettes. Stunned silence filled the space behind you as you waited for the Dio tape to be spit out, you tapped the Madonna cassette against your kneecap.

What at first was silence burst into a flurry of motion behind you.

Before you could react, Eddie’s hands locked around your waist from behind and elicited a squeal from your throat as he yanked you back. “I’m not listening to Madonna,” he said, twisting his body around yours to try to snatch the tape from your hand.

You scrambled, holding the cassette out of his reach and angling your shoulders to keep him away. “Eddie! You said I could pick!” you exclaimed with a peal of laughter, feeling the length of his body pressed against the back of yours. He pulled you close with a forearm curled around your waist, reaching over your shoulder.

“Yeah, you can pick from good music!” His chin bumped the top of your head as you both fell forward from losing your balance. The floor absorbed most of the impact, Eddie’s shoulder banging into the floorboards next to you. You let out a soft grunt as Eddie landed partially on top of you, pressing you into the carpet.

“This is good music,” you insisted, digging your elbow and knees into the thick carpet so you could shimmy forward. Eddie slammed an elbow in front of your shoulder, stopping any forward movement. There was no time to redirect as he melded you into his shadows, lanky limbs moving over where you were prone. His other hand curled around your wrist, so close to taking the tape. “You’re just judgmental!”

In a last ditch effort you twisted your arm from his grip, pulling your hand under your body and pressing the tape between your stomach and the rustled blanket. “You’re not being fair!” You were still giggling, Eddie stuffed his fingers between your forearm and your stomach in an attempt to follow the path of your arm.

“It’s my van, princess,” Eddie said with a breathy laugh of his own. He lifted himself off you, letting you breathe for a moment before his hands scooped beneath your shoulders and flipped you onto your back. “I can judge however I want to.”

You tried to push him away with your feet, matching smiles on your faces as he reached for you around the assault. With a shove your legs were out of the way, his torso settling between them with your knees on either side of his ribs. He leaned over you, managing to pry the tape from your hands and slide it into the pocket of his leather jacket.

You still had some fight in you, reaching for Eddie’s pocket before he grabbed your wrists and pressed them to the floor. “Eddie!” you whined, squirming in an attempt to throw him off.

He was smiling above you with all his teeth, the two of you panting as you stared at one another. The distance between you decreased, long fingers threading through yours as his head dipped lower. You were so close that you could practically count his eyelashes. Eddie scraped his teeth over his lower lip, a clear sign that he was about to ask you something. You nodded before he could, your heart pounding in your chest as you prayed that you weren’t reading into things.

When he pressed his lips against yours you knew you guessed right.

You sighed into it, your eyes fluttering closed as your mouth moulded to his. Butterflies had made a home in your stomach, part of you wondering when you started having feelings for Eddie. Why did it take you so long to do something about them?

His mouth was so soft, slotting against yours in clumsy open-mouthed kisses. You both were smiling, giggling nervously when your teeth clashed or noses bumped. It was as though you both were clumsy and new to this, the anxiety of wanting to impress making you forget how to relax for a moment. His hair tickled your cheeks and neck, curling wildly in every direction. You desperately wanted to thread your fingers into it, your hands flexing against his.

A strong gust of wind blew dried leaves into the open door of the van, the chill cutting through your clothes making the two of you pull away from one another with laughs. Eddie tugged the door closed in a quick motion, leaning back on a bean bag and patting the side of his thigh in a motion to come over there.

The moonlight was diffused through the windows on the sliding side doors, illuminating Eddie in a beautiful silver as you practically crawled on your hands and knees to him. You were a bit off-balance, partially falling against his chest. He chuckled, curling an arm around your back and pulling you closer with a wide hand pressed against the curve of your spine.

“Been waiting to kiss you like this for months,” Eddie murmured, his calloused fingers tracing along your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your hands resting on the soft Corroded Coffin shirt he wore.

“Yeah?” you asked, your eyes wide as you looked at him. Part of you didn’t want to believe him, you’d thought his taste in women leaned on either far-end of the Morticia Addams to Chrissy Cunningham spectrum. Maybe you were wrong, or at least you prayed that you were. When considering the Eddie Spectrum of eligible women, you were situated somewhere near the middle.

He nodded, stamping a quick kiss to your lips. “Of course, princess,” he said, his other hand coming to rest on the curve of your thigh. Goosebumps pricked along your skin, his fingertips tracing up and down the bare section of your leg between the skirt and high socks. “And you make a very cute, Velma.”

You rolled your eyes at the compliment, shrugging it off. “You don’t mean that,” you whispered, eyes cast down at the blood soaked into the collar of his shirt. Shyness consumed you, it had been a while since a guy had flirted with you like this.

Well, Eddie’s fingers drawing figure-eights on the outside of your thigh felt like a little more than flirting.

One of his eyebrows lifted, disappearing beneath his bangs as he looked at you. “I do mean it.” Before you could argue with him, he pulled you into another kiss.

It was enough to take your mind off of it, your head tilting up toward his as you twisted your body closer to him. Your hips turned, the handcuffs serving as his belt buckle digging into you through the thick fabric of your skirt. Thick thighs split apart over his knee, your spine curving on instinct.

Normally, you wouldn’t have considered the back of Eddie’s van to be romantic, but now there was nowhere else you would rather be.

Unable to think of much else, the kisses became messier. The sloppy smacks of your mouth against his made you giddy, fingers curling over his shoulders and keeping him close. His hand slipped under your sweater, palm pressing into your ribs like a brand. A submissive whimper was pulled from your throat, a dizzy feeling filling your head. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of oxygen or the alcohol you’d drank earlier.

Heat was pooling between your legs, making your thighs momentarily squeeze against his. The feeling of Eddie touching you made your insecurities about how your body had changed melt away, he didn’t seem to mind the softer parts of you as much as you did. Your hands traveled to his belt and traced the silver buckle of it, making Eddie pull away with a shake of his head. “Not tonight, baby,” he murmured, a sheepish smile curling his pink lips.

Despite the small part of your mind that was still rational, it felt like a slap to the face. You stiffened in his hold as you yanked your hands back like you’d touched a hot stove. “Oh, uh, sorry. I misunderstood,” you murmured, trying to tamp down the sting of rejection. You didn’t want him to feel bad, there wasn’t anything to feel guilty for.

Eddie snorted, shaking his head again. “Trust me, I want to,” he breathed, gently cupping your cheek. Something burned in his gaze. His thumb pressed into the corner of your spit-slicked lips, his chocolate brown eyes lingering for a moment. “Just don’t want to when you’re drunk, not in the back of my van.”

There was a sincerity in his tone that made you melt, rejection fading into yet another reason you felt like you were starting to fall head over heels for Eddie. “Okay, you’re right,” you said sweetly, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb.

“You want me to pick another tape?” The silence that had fallen over the van became noticeable.

He laughed, seemingly having forgotten what had gotten the two of you tangled together in the first place. “No Madonna in the van, those are the rules,” he said, his fingers caressing your jaw. “Even for pretty girls like you.”

“Oh shut up,” you sighed, your face heating up despite yourself. “You’re just trying to butter me up so I pick Metallica.”

Eddie snorted, the width of his shoulders squaring with confidence as he kept you in the space between his arm and torso. You could feel how warm he was. “You really think so?” he asked, the soft lilt of a tease in his voice.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” It still felt like there was lightning between your ribs, electricity pooling at every juncture where you and Eddie touched.

“But, I was teasing you. It’s a Van Halen cassette… you would know that if you’d bothered to read it before you decided to wrestle me for it.” You stamped another kiss against the tip of his nose. He wrinkled it endearingly, making you smile.

“Well now I’m glad I didn’t.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #reader insert #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #eddie is a soft boy

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nouearth · 8 months

Text

rated i for impatient.

steve harrington x male reader.

summary: in the middle of a slow afternoon at family video, steve has an idea on how to past time, and it involves you and your mouth.

wc: 3.4k. warnings: explicit smut, handjob (r!giving), blowjob (r!giving), mouth-fucking, deep-throating, lots of spit, gagging, bantering, workplace quickie, co-workers, established relationship, rough!steve, but also gentle!steve, bigdick!steve.

a/n: and it's been a hot minute since i've written smut, as well as a full one-shot!! i swear, i feel like my small hiatus made me forget everything, lol. but i hope it's as good as my other stories and i also hope you guys enjoy steve's first appearance on my blog!

“Dude, you seriously couldn’t wait?”

Heavy footsteps followed Steve as he dragged your trudge into the storage closet. Even though his back faced you, he responded with a shimmy of his shoulders, the flight of muscles equally excited to cease the sluggish afternoon.

“Oh, come on!” He shut the door once you entered with a distressed groan. Though, he knew you didn’t mean it despite your pointed tone.

“I know you want to.” Steve sang with a tease, cornering you against the door with a playful dance, and a smile that had charmed you since the first time you had met him.

You’d been keeping track at how many times Steve had simply captivated you with his presence. It was embarrassing because you’d lost count since day one. The only statistic that you did know was that you were losing.

Losing bad.

Always a goody two-shoes and extra responsible, yet somehow, you were never a prude and knew how to have fun. If only you weren’t so hesitant in this moment. It was your first week, your fourth day at Family Video, and you wanted to make a great impression, even if it was only something to fill up your time during the summer.

He continued to dance, singing a tune that had been stuck in his head since three mornings ago, and your lips curled into smile while he performed within the narrow space. A few stumbles threw him off balance, but upon seeing your lips bitten to hold back a laugh, the following trip had been intentional.

Steve collided into you, though barely as he caught his weight against the door. A whisper of gasp dried your throat when the sudden thump by your shoulders jolted you and his face rushed close to yours like a bullet. Your gaze widened in surprise, only for them to roll once it catalogued the mischief on his face. “You know Keith kind of hates you, right? You’re going to be fucked if he catches you slacking again.”

“Me?! I’m sorry, are you a ghost or something? A figment of my imagination? Worse… I’ve huffed paint too many times when I was little, and now it’s all catching up to me.” There was amusement on his face and it reflected off of your smile.

You straightened your posture to match his eye level, and rebutted his theory with the light touch of your nose to his. He laughed, wrapping his arms around your torso. “You’d get in trouble too, you know. Last time I checked, most sexual acts involve at least two participants.”

“Yeah, well, he likes me unlike you! If anything, he’d probably blame you for being a bad influence or something.” The possible truth expelled a groan out of Steve, but it doesn’t stop him from pouring the remainder of his frustration into your mouth.

You took him in stride, earlier hesitance burying into the back of your mind when the fresh mint of his breath began haunting your mouth. Then, completely into obscurity when his tongue slid over yours, sloppily in hopes of awakening a fruitful lust, akin to his, within you.

“Steve… come on,” You pulled away, but Steve immediately captured your lips again in a tongue-swelling kiss. “What if customers come in?” You panted in between breaths, squeezing at his firm back to distract yourself from the growing tent within your khakis.

“I’ve been here longer than you, studied the activity down to the seconds.” He pressed into you, hip to hip, until you could feel his own muscle growing against yours. “We have at least ten minutes.”

“Ten?! Dude, that’s not enough—“

“Please?” Steve suddenly pulled your hand from his back and into the firmness of his bulge, looking into you with a desperation that rivaled the yearning freedom of his erection. “Please…” The curl of your hand was imposed by his grip, folding them until you had a handful of his bulge, throbbing at the mere friction of your warm palm.

“Fuck,” The determination in Steve’s gaze, as well as the devilish guidance of your own cock stirring against you, had your hand leave the aching muscle for a brief moment to hastily unbuckle his belt. You pressed your lips back to his, and muttered with a grimace. “You’re owing me one after work.”

“God, I love you.” He sighed with relief upon knowing that the heavy pressure in his pants would soon be released, thanking you by taking your cheeks into the dip of his palms and kissing you warm and wet. Even if it was going to be a quick one, his main priority was to be liberated of the painful throbs that had led him to this desperate juncture.

As much as Steve hated confined spaces, the feeling of the storage space closing in on him had only been fleeting because his desire for you was gravity-defying strong. It expanded the proximity at his very will until you were the only subject framed in his field of vision.

Lips plumped from the bites he took from your flesh earlier, balmy skin speckled with a flush that he’d been the sole creator of, he couldn’t get enough of your presence. He took in your woody scent with deep inhales as he moved his lips to your neck, and your hands began digging into the waistband of his pants, pulling Steve close with a hard yank to harbor every warm breath into one another again.

With one swift pull, the belt collided with the floor and your hands worked at the zipper like a tailor until the khakis dropped and pooled around his ankles. You accompanied the leather and fabric seconds after, kneeling onto the cold surface with the eager guidance of Steve’s caresses to the back of your head.

Kneeling face-to-face with his bulge, you couldn’t stop yourself from drooling even if Steve was covered. You could outline the girth of his cock, plumping and thickening under your piquant gaze, and then throbbing when you followed the curve with your palm in eager cycles until the waistband screamed for your attention.

Your fingers hooked into the elastic band and in one slow pull, you revealed Steve’s erection in all its glory. Thick and unkempt hairs billowed first, and you played with the anticipation as you dragged the waistband over his length, weighting it downwards until all that was left covered was the plump tip that you can still taste from a few nights ago. In a final yank, Steve’s cock sprang up proudly and his groans were heavenly in its accompaniment. The weight of his large cock made him bounce in several reps before it was kept still by the warmth of your hand, then another over the remaining curve to amuse yourself with his blessed size.

“Jesus, did you not jerk off this morning? Haven’t seen or felt you this hard before...” Your mouth fell open in awe, and also in preparation to loosen the muscles in your jaw while your hands slid over him in slow strokes. Every vein throbbed at the delicate touch, pulsated strong when you squeezed a few sticky drips of his pre-cum from his spout. They would’ve landed on the undeserving floor had you not stuck your tongue out in time, lapping him up from the underside of his cock to the smooth pink rim.

His cock jumped when your other hand dropped to fondle his balls, hanging low as if they awaited to be grasped and swung. You did exactly that as you licked the slit of his tip, amusing yourself with Steve’s package that you had sucked and fucked before, yet still managed to be surprised despite your many affairs.

“Not since we last fucked, to be honest.” At first, he balled the end of his shirt and raised it high to prevent it from obstructing your view, exposing the happy trail that you always traced over with your tongue on lazy Sundays. “Guess it wasn’t the same.” But the defy work of your hands spread the boil in his stomach to the muscular arch of his back, hot and heavy on his body until the weight of his shirt was thrown off. Moans exhaled in breathy tremors as you squeezed his shaft and pulled him forward and back in wall-closing jerks.

“Well, I’m sorry for the long wait.” Your strokes continued while you sealed a wet promise to the pink glans. “I’ll make it worth it.” You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to welcome the following sticky slaps of his heavy length in disgusting delight, holding him like a marker as you patterned his thick pre-cum over your pair of lips before the salty flesh was vaulted into your mouth with an inhale.

His length pushed your mouth open in an accommodating stretch, almost pleasurable if he hadn’t been so difficult to take in. The first few inches gagged you, ached a muscle in your stomach when you flexed. It was traditional at this point, and your routine often consisted of stroking the shaft that had yet felt the heat of your mouth. The sliminess of your tongue as you bathed Steve’s cock in stomach-churning sin, lapping the musk of him from the loose scrotum to the plump head.

And it was a routine to attempt to take him again. You spat in your hand before lubing his stiff in a glaze that caught the light of his eyes, then the hiccup of his moan. “Fuck, you know I love it when you do that…”

“Yeah?” You smiled, his compliments sent straight to your erection while the sticky sounds of bubbles and drool soiled his cock in pure lust in lazy strokes, then sealed when you wrapped your lips around him again, and pushed down when the pulse of his veins beckoned you.

The size of his cock drew a moan out of you, tremors rimming the shaft while you prepared the opening of your throat little by little. Drool leaked from either corners of your mouth, staining your flushed skin and then the floor, but you hadn’t been bothered to save them despite your reputation of being a clean-freak.

When it came to Steve, you were in a state of delirium that had forgotten who you were because there was only one purpose on your mind: to pleasure.

“Shit, (M/N)—“ His hands had left you to fold his arms behind his head, allowing his silhouette to become yours to own and to rapture over as you worked him like one your favorite treats at the candy store. He slipped in and out of you, closer to the barrier of your throat with the help of his thrusts, and the only time you’d take a break was when you suckled on his balls. As his cock hung over your face, head dripping in saliva and thick pre-cum, you found enjoyment in rolling his balls like dice: another one of Steve’s favorite moves.

Steve was heavy on your tongue and the only way you could thank him for blessing you with his fruitful cock, was to love-bomb him with all of his favorite desires. You lined the underside with your tongue until your lips met the pink glans again, speckling it with a playful pecks before weighing his shaft down with your spit once again. “Have you always liked it sloppy?”

“Mm—no…” He murmured, and you looked up into the heaviness of his lids, surprised by his confession. “Not until I met you. For others, it’s kind of gross, but… you do it differently. Tastefully, and I’m not trying to be funny.”

You laughed at the unintentional joke and Steve joined your amusement with a smile, petting the back of your head before it was guided back to swallow him whole this time. Your mouth stretched wide the more he pushed you, burying the remnants of your humored-self into the pit of your throat with the ample of his throbbing erection. Your hands held around his thighs to brace for the oncoming gags and Steve does the same around your head, threading his fingers into your hair with a strong grip as he pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until tears brimmed the highlights of your eyes.

“Holy shit—“ Steve was enamored by the feeling of stuffing you whole. The confines of your mouth and throat restricted the blood flow around him, yet he couldn’t have felt himself pulsate more, stiffen harder in between your godly gags and whimpers. The scratches at his thighs was a telling sign for him to pull you back, and so he does in what felt like slow motion. His cock unsheathed out of your throat like a sleeve, unraveling a spell of gasps and bubbling moans in midst.

“You did so good, baby… fuck.” Cupping your cheek, he briefly bent down to meet you in the middle of his gratification, kissing you proud and golden on your breathless smile before he tore himself away to spit inside of your mouth and submerging his saliva down your mouth with his cock again. Despite the sting in your eyes and throat, you were compliant to his every move and welcomed the sheathing of his wet flesh in prideful determination.

Steve’s hands had moved to either sides of your head, where he had complete control of every bone and muscle of your neck, and the desire to fuck your tight mouth had become a victorious reality. Your lips pressed into his unkempt hairs when he forced you down again, tasting the sweat that had been harbored within the strands.

From then on, your gags had only become motivation as he rode the rhythm of your delectable sounds with sharp and eager thrusts. Gasps and coughs stuck to the slick of your throat while Steve’s cock fucked them down in repetitive and selfish strides. Your head moved from the guidance of Steve’s hold, meeting the bow of your head with a forward thrust and ramming into the back of your throat while you spilled sheltered saliva—thick and bubbly in its journey to form a puddle on the floor. He repeated after barely giving you enough time to catch your breath, choking and fucking your mouth with his cock while you writhed on your knees in intimidation.

Steve sheltered you close, curling his body over you as a satisfied moan added to the thick air when he shoved your head deep in between his legs, keeping you still in midst of your squirms. Whenever you tried to pull back, Steve only thrusted and pushed you further into your struggle for freedom. He drowned you in your own saliva, locked you of your only source of oxygen as your nose pressed deep into his pelvis, and gagged you to the point of leaving scars on his thighs as your fingers curled into his flesh, desperate for a whisper of air to breathe back into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You finally get your wish when he yanked you back, and you inhaled with a slobbering gasp, coughing out the oxygen that he had buried from within you.

Throughout all of this, you gazed beautifully up to him, Steve thought. From the highlights of the whites to the color of your orbs, you glistened like nature past dew point, and his chest swelled in agreement. His heart pulsed faster than the rhythmic sucks and strokes of your mouth and hand as you’ve gone back to sucking him, fisting him into your mouth as your mouth began aching from deep-throating, breath recovering from being face-fucked. It was a curse that you put on him, where he closed his eyes to the merit of your tongue and couldn’t bear to look at you again because if he did, he knew he could come all over your face right then and there.

“Close—fuck.” His shoulders rolled back and one hand pushed the sweat off his forehead back into the fluff of his hair, while the other maintained on your head, keeping you in close proximity.

“Fuck, Steve…” You sniffled, desperately tasting the salt off the tip of his cock while you snapped your wrist back and forth in jerking him off. Your free hand ran over his stomach, then down his flexed thighs, and you squeezed to remind him that he was spellbound under your touch. His gaze casted downwards to meet yours once again, and he nodded as if he understood.

The pressure on the back of your head hardened, but it was your own will that had you slobbering all over him again. You took him his cock back in with desperation, the memory of how salty he had tasted days prior fortifying your delirious state of mind. You sucked Steve off, swallowed him whole, fucked him into your fist, then into your mouth, and it would repeat until he nested his hand into your hair, tightly curling them into a fist as he came undone into your mouth.

“Fuck—“

Steve’s cock pulsed in heavy bounces and his balls bounced in its drain as he emptied himself inside of you. Warm and thick seed accompanied the fill of your mouth, and your hand reached down to massage his sack, aiding the scrotum to dump the remaining few shots into the pool of cum. Slowly, you pulled back with your lips pressed tight in caution of wasting the fresh fluid, and you swallowed slow and proud, savoring every gulp that ran down your violated throat as if it the cure to the sore. He watched you, panting heavily, and his cleansed cock twitched as you quenched upon his energy for the day.

“You don't have to swallow it al—“ Before he could finish his question, you stuck your tongue out to reveal the abyss of your mouth, and the limp of his cock roused with one more throb before finally hanging low in between his legs. Steve was left astonished, and there was a flicker in his eyes before he helped you back on your feet. “Come here, I need to kiss you right now.”

A laugh was caught in between your lips when Steve kissed you with a familiar sweetness that always rattled the butterflies in your stomach. He pulled you close to pacify the flutter of their wings, and sighed into you before a hand gently caressed the middle of your throat. “Did I go too hard?”

“I would’ve said something if you did, Steve.” You’d come to realize that it always took more than a smile and comforting words to appease his guilt, and so you pressed fleeting pecks to the center of his lips, then began massaging the sensitive fill of his cock in slow turns. “I mean, if you want, we can go for round two right now and—“

“Okay, okay.” He pressed a laugh into your lips and leaned his forehead onto yours for the moment you two shared a gaze. Looking into you, it dismantled all of his worries, as it did for you, and it was only when the cold bit at his naked body that roused him from the daze.

“I should probably put my clothes back on.”

“Dude, are you saying that isn’t your uniform?” You gasped.

“Dude,” He took you by the back of your head again and kissed you once, grinning. “Shut up.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

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iridescentprose · 1 year

Text

Friends Don't Kiss—Steve Harrington x fem!reader insert

summary; in which you ask steve harrington about the status of your relationship.

warning(s); none, just fluff

You were standing in front of him, both arms clutching [your favorite 80's movie VHS tape] to your chest. You both had been spent hours after closing time searching for [your favorite movie]. You had been asking for it for weeks and when you told Steve about it, he promised to put it in a safe spot once it was back in stock. Unfortunately, when you came that afternoon, he had misplaced it and the both of you had spent time looking for it long past closing time.

The moment he had found it, you couldn't help but hug him out of excitement and relief, and Steve couldn't help but take that as an invitation to lean in for a kiss. His hand swept to your shoulder gently while he stepped forward in an attempt to close the space between the both of you. His eyes fluttered closed and for a fraction of a second yours did too...

Until you asked a question that had been on your mind for weeks.

"Steve...what are we?"

The nature of your relationship had never been spoken aloud. Even if you had said yes it wouldn't make a difference to the world - everyone already saw how close the two of you were. It wouldn't be a secret to hide, or a surprise that needed revealing. You two spent almost every passing day together - be it during each others breaks or when both you got off from work - your job being across the street at the local [insert your place of work].

Stunned, he opened his eyes to gaze into your curious ones. His hand fell from your shoulder and swept through his hair before resting on the back of his neck. His other hand, pressed against the wall beside your head, remained hesitantly still.

"I'd like to say were...friends?" He said, an embarrassed smile breaking through his expression as if he wasn't entirely sure what to call what you both had.

"Just...friends?" You tilted your head, clutching the VHS case to your chest. You figured you both were more than that, but you didn't have the guts to admit it out loud. You were only trying to see where his head was at.

"Good friends?" He tried again, flashing a wider grin that normally won you over. For a moment it did as you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. Relieved, Steve stepped forward, his hand resting on your shoulder again.

"But... friends don't kiss each other," you said quickly, your hand resting on his chest to keep him at bay. Your smile, now gone, had been replaced with quizzical pursed lips and a pair of raised eyebrows.

"Well...maybe we should be more than just friends," he said, reaching up to gently place his hand over yours, the one that had been resting on his chest still. He gave it a light squeeze. Naturally, you stepped forward.

"Is this your way of formally asking me to be your girlfriend, Harrington?"

He met you halfway, your intertwined hands now in the center gap that was starting to lessen between the two of you.

"Maybe," he replied.

"Maybe?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a nervous chuckle, his free hand sweeping through his hair. You always found it cute when he got flustered, given the fact that you were normally the one who was nervous all the time. "Will you, [your first and last name], be my girlfriend"?"

Your fears of destroying the friendship you both had vanished as he waited expectantly for your answer.

It took you seconds to murmur a quiet, 'yes'. At that, you both shared a relieved smile before his free hand swept around your waist carefully. He tugged you closer as you stepped forward.

Amid the mountain of VHS tapes haphazardly scattered in the center of the video store you both shared a gentle kiss - signifying the beginning of your official relationship.

#steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader insert #steve harrington x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader insert #stranger things fluff #iridescentprose #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things one shot

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months

Text

pillow talk

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1K

warnings: this is post activities, so its safe. just sweet sweet fluff

summary: post sex discussions

A/N: used the prompt sweet after sex by @jasminesfury *not proofread, i’m confusing myself so badly looking at one specific sentence*

masterlist / steve harrington

the sun was setting. orange and yellow hues sparkled through the windows that the curtains let peek through. the room was quiet, the only noises coming from the shared breathing and the rustling of the bedding. the room felt hot with the door closed and the previous activity that had you and steve just laying in bed with the sheets up to your naked, sweaty chests.

steve rolled over and changed from laying on his back to his stomach, staring at his ceiling while adjusted his body so his head lay on your stomach. he had one leg in and the other out, your right leg in between. steve managed to wiggle an arm under your back as his free hand drew whatever came to mind onto your sticky belly.

a tilt to your head as it lay on the pillow, a lovesick smile tugging the seams of your lips. a hand fell on steve’s head and you began running the digits through his thick head of brown hair with a few lighter parts popping out from his time in the sun. nails scratching at his scalp to pull vibrating groans or fingers twirling strands of ruly hair around.

steve rubbed his open palm over your waist and down to your thighs before trailing up again. his wonderful lips plant wet, open-mouth kisses over your stomach and the imperfections scattered over your lower half. his nose would glide over your belly button before setting his chin just above it to peer at your with lidded eyes.

“yes, handsome?” you hummed as you pushed hair behind his ear.

“i love you.”

three words, eight letters.

the two of you have said them for years. at first just surface level meaning, friendly-familia meaning, something you say in passing to your parents as you leave the house in a hurry or friends when they do a favor for you. but eventually, the words held a different meaning for the two of you. it would be lingering touches and eye contact maintained longer that was acceptable. staring at steve’s side profile as he talked, letting your thoughts run away from you with imaginary scenarios before shaking them away and landing back to reality.

and now the words held all those meanings, silver bands wrapped around ring fingers showing the world.

“i love you too, stevie.” thumb straightening his left brow into place.

steve rubbed his thumb up and down at your hip bone. more kisses pressed to your stomach, some quick and open, some more lingering, and some with heat as he gave little bites at the skin. you would giggle or squirm, a moan pulled from your throat when the feel of his lips felt tantalizing. fingers would curl and pull steve’s hair in response, you would feel the smile as he continued his loving assault.

“you know,” lingering kisses to your lower stomach, “i can’t wait to have kids with you.”

“oh, yeah?” top teeth biting into your bottom lip to stop a smile.

steve stopped the kisses (much to your disappointment) to once again rest his chin on your stomach. it was slightly discomforting but you didn’t push him away.

“yeah. i know you don’t want many if we were to have our own. so i want an older girl so she can help keep her younger brother in line.”

you let your index finger run down the slope of steve’s nose bridge, “how long have you been thinking about this?”

the quick dart of steve’s eyes piqued your interest. he only did that when he was embarrassed by the information he was about to lay out. you didn't push him, just observed him as you waited.

you felt steve’s voice but didn’t hear it. he spoke his words into your skin and it took you a moment before you realized he said anything. you asked him to repeat it politely.

he cleared his throat. “since our third date.”

“why our third date? if this was a romance anything, you would’ve said our first date.” you weren’t criticizing, just curious. you just remember it as a fun roller rink date.

your simple question sparked a twinkle in steve’s pupils. “i know what you're thinking.” “what am i thinking?”

“that it was just a roller rink date. why is that so special to start thinking about kids? right?” a shrug was your answer. steve continued his version of the story.

“okay. well, i was getting us food and you stayed in our booth. after i placed our order i leaned against the wall so i could continue to watch you-“ “stalker.”

steve tickled at your sides, breaking you into fits of laughs and tears before you conceded. “anyway. i was staring at you, my mind just constantly saying, “you got your girl”. and then you stood up and walked to a claw game. i was gonna rush over so i could impress you, but stopped when i saw you crouch down and start talking to a little boy. then you started to play the game and after many, many, many-“ you shoved his shoulder and the both of you chuckled, “many tries. you got the boy a stuffed animal. and in his excitement, he hugged you. and just seeing the way you froze before holding him tightly with your eyes closed…”

steve trailed off and you could feel the tears wishing to fall. hands grabbing for steve’s cheeks and giving a slight tug to signal him to climb up your body. his hands sat by the sides of your chest as you planted kiss after kiss over his face. a kiss to the side of his lip and you move his head back.

“here’s a potential plan. we wait another year or two, getting more marriage on the plate and getting used to our grown-up jobs. and then from there, we could start having a bit more carefree sex and just… see what happens. what d’you think?”

steve’s eyes went side to side then to your lips and back to your eyes. “i say…” he leaned closer, lips ghosting each other as he whispered, “that’s a good plan, honey.” and he kissed you until you couldn’t remember your name, only steve’s.

#stever harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x fem!reader #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #joe keery

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 2 months

Text

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕

{ fem!reader }

~A/N: I used to see these all the time. I miss them, so I made one. It's was just a little fun thing to write.

18+ minors dni

𝑨= 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 (𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕)

Oh, Eddie's obsessed with aftercare. He loves giving it and receiving it. If he's been particularly rough with you. When you're done and satisfied. He'll hold you close until you're finally relaxed. "Need some water, sweetheart? " "how about a little snack?"

"Here, stay in my arms, and I'll hold you." "You did so well for me." He'll rock you and place gentle kisses all over your body.

If Eddie's the one getting the aftercare. He loves to have his hair played with. He wants to lay back in your arms and have you scratch his head. He adores praises, too. So you better flatter him. "Eddie, you were amazing tonight." "You were so good for me." He'll flatter you too, don't worry.

"Such a good girl taking all of that tonight."

"Look at you sweetheart you're beautiful."

"Such a good girl."

Baths and showers together. He loves washing you and cleaning you off. Or just sitting in the bathtub together, laughing with you.

𝑩= 𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 (𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔)

Eddie loves his hands. He loves the way they look when they're gripping onto you tight or wrapped around your throat. "You look so beautiful with my hand around that pretty neck of yours."

He likes he fingers too. He loves using them as a gag for you or pumping them in and out of you fast or slow. "You like my fingers, baby?"You like how they make you feel, huh?" "Think you can take a third?"

His favorite body part(s) of yours are.

Firstly, he loves your body and everything about it. His favorite things are your lip. He can't get enough of them when they're kissing him all over or they're wrapped around his cock. "Your lips are so soft God I can't wait to feel them on my cock later."

He also loves your thighs too. Smacking them or gripping them tight. Eddie particularly enjoys holding onto your love handles. He thinks they are the sexiest thing on anyone. His hands holding on while you ride him really drives him crazy.

𝑪= 𝑪𝒖𝒎 (𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕)

He's loves it. He loves to get cum on himself or on you. He likes to get it all over your tits or ass. You noticed he really, really likes cuming inside you, too."Want me to fill you up? Hmm?"

He'll cum literally anywhere on your body. You just tell him where, and he's giving it all to you. No hesitations. "Where do you want it, sweetheart?" He's either stroking his cock or pulling out asking you where he can spill it out on your body. He'll cum on your tongue and make you stick it out so he can see. "You like the way i taste don't you?"

𝑫= 𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 (𝑷𝒓��𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚)

He has lots of photos stashed of you in his bedside table. He really doesn't keep secrets from you, though. You know about the photos. He's an open book with you. He trusts you so much. there isn't anything you don't know about him.

𝑬= 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 (𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈)

He knows what he's doing. He does tend to get nervous sometimes. Which comes off like he doesn't know what he's doing at first. When you began dating, he had so much anxiety about it. He didn't want to disappoint you.

Eddie wanted to make a good impression, but he overthinks. Your first time together was very good whether he wanted to remember it that way or not. He would constantly check in with you asking or saying, "Is this good?" "Are you feeling good?" "How do you like it?"I only care about you right now."

You had to reassure him for a little bit that he was doing a good job making you feel good. He lightened up and just focused on your pleasure first. Once you both got to know each other more, he was more laid back and relaxed when it came to sex.

𝑭= 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Eddie has lots. There isn't a position he hasn't had you in that he didn't like. His all-time favorite would be between missionary with your thighs pressed to your chest. He can be so much deeper that way and have so much control over you. The other would have to be reverse cowgirl. He gets all the enjoyment of gripping your hips if he wants. He loves watching you ride him and staring at your ass. But the thing about this position that really gets him going is watching you bouncing on his cock. He loves watching himself inside of you. Those cute little whimpers you make when his cock spreads you open. He could cum on the spot just from that.

𝑮= 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒇𝒚 (𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚)

Eddie is literally the goofiest guy you've been with. The first time you had sex you were also nervous. He did what he does best and tried to make you laugh. The moment he buried himself inside of you. he was trying to be funny and ease your nerves. "Come here often?" You both snorted and went into a fit of giggles. He was a nervous wreck more so than you were you.

He's still goofy sometimes during sex. He has the ability to go from rough and hard to whispering a joke seductively in your ear. Eddie appreciates the fun silly side of sex. If your bodies make a funny noise best, believe he'll laugh about it. Sex is supposed to be fun. It's not supposed to be this serious thing all the time.

One time, he got a cramp as he was taking you from behind, and he fell down. Instead of him getting embarrassed, he just laughed and stayed lying down on the floor. "Eddie, are you okay?" "Yeah never better. Why do you ask?"

Giggly sex was your favorite with him. You've even had to stop in the middle of it because you're both laughing so hard at something he did or said.

𝑯= 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓 (𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒔)

Eddie doesn't groom too much because he's not an extremely hair guy. He'll give himself a little trim up, but other than that, he doesn't really do anything else.

𝑰= 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒚 (𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉/𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚)

Eddie loves you. He loves you deeply. He's a very romantic guy at heart.

He's all of it. He's rough/dirty and romantic. He enjoys watching your face when he takes you. During those nights when he wants to get romantic. He likes to set the mood. He puts your scarves over his lamps to give the room a nice glow. He's running his fingers along every curve of your body.

He's touching, caressing, licking, and kissing every inch of you. He'll give you a nice massage with oil. He prefers the edible kind because no matter what he his lips are on you. You felt so wanted and desired by him.

He'll nibble on your neck and whisper in your ear. You told him in passing your lower back is very sensitive, so he pays special attention to that. Kneading and pressing on it carefully, then rubbing his hands all over it.

In his rougher moods, he likes to place his hands on your neck, squeezing it gently. He likes to spank you and overstimulate you to the point that you have tears running down your face. He'll cuff you to his bed. Maybe do some face slapping, but nothing too hard. He doesn't want to actually hurt your pretty face. He'll put you in different positions himself. He enjoys pulling your hair.

𝑱= 𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒇𝒇 (𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏)

He used to do it all the time before he met you. Every once in a while, he'll touch himself occasionally. Having alone time and just making yourself feel good is important. He'll mainly do it in the shower so there is less of a clean-up. You do like watching him stroking himself too. On nights, if you're sleeping and he wakes up horny he'll carefully stroke his cock. Eddie will try to see if you're up before doing it. Just in case. But the minute he hears that tired grown of yours, he's leaving you alone.

𝑲= 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌 (𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒖𝒏𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍)

Eddie has lots of them. They're tame for the most part.

Daddy kink for sure, but he also likes it when you call him, sir. It just depends on his mood.

Breeding kink

Role-playing (he likes to dress up. ghostface? He likes it when you dress up for him. A naughty damsel in distress is his favorite.)

Voyeurism

Praise kink

Choking

Spanking (giving and receiving)

𝑳= 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏)

He'll fuck you pretty much anywhere but he prefers his bedroom. He's got all of the fun stuff stashed away in there.

𝑴= 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌/𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒏𝒔)

Everything about you.

Literally, you don't have to do much of anything, and he wants you. If we're getting specific. What turns him on is just seeing you lounging around in your panties with a t-shirt on. There is something about seeing you comfortable like that, that makes him want to take you immediately. also, you take the time to learn about his hobbies. There is just something about you reading up on DnD or his favorite metal bands. You remembered one night you vaguely mentioned something about lord of the rings. He was on you instantly.

𝑵= 𝑵𝒐 (𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒅𝒐)

Eddie used to like the idea of threesomes. He tried it out with an ex of his, and it was a disaster. That's how he found out he hated sharing. The thought of sharing you already makes his blood boil. Count out threesomes. That's a big NO.

Eddie's a jealous guy. He wouldn't like seeing some other person touching you and making you moan the same way he does.

Anything that makes you uncomfortable. The second he sees any type of hesitation, he's not doing it. He'll never pressure you into trying something only because he's curious about it.

𝑶= 𝑶𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆)

Loves both. He loves giving and receiving. The way you look gagging on his cock when it hits the back of your throat. Your eyes all teary and mascara running down your cheeks. "You're so pretty with my cock stuffed down your throat baby."

Eddie loves giving, too. He can do it for hours if let him. He'll hook your legs over his shoulders and use his mouth and tongue on you until you're begging him to stop. "Fuck baby you taste so sweet." He'll constantly compliment you too while he's doing it.

𝑷= 𝑷𝒂𝒄𝒆 (𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒅)

It really just depends on how pent-up he is that day. He likes to go fast and slow.

To be honest, it all about how you want it. If you're begging him to go faster, then he's picking up the pace. If you want him to slow it down, then he's doing just that. There are some nights where he wants to be rough, so he's slamming into you hard. Then there are other nights when he's taking it nice and slow. Keeping the mood very passionate and sensual.

He can last for a really, really long time, or he's giving you a solid ten minutes. But count on the four play to go on for a long while.

𝑸= 𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆 (𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅)

Yeah he's that guy pulling you into the nearest closet or empty room for a quick fuck. At parties especially. There was one time you were all out with friends, and a guy was checking you out. Eddie pulled you into the nearest closet to start pounding into you hard and fast. He'll spit on his hand and rub on his cock to get you nice and ready for him. "Don't worry, baby, I'm just reminding you who you belong to." "Now bend over."

𝑹= 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒌 (𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔)

Always, but he's not gonna spring anything on you out of the blue. He'll mention it in passing or when you're both just sitting around. He wants to see your reaction, and then he'll go from there. If you're hesitant at first, he'll drop it. But if you bring it back up to him. Showing that you're very, very sure about trying whatever it is, he's curious about. Then he's going to be so good to you.

𝑺= 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂 (𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔)

This all just really depends on how worked up he is and how much sleep he's been getting. He can go multiple rounds in between some resting. Each round, the time varies, but he's not stopping until you're unable to walk.

𝑻= 𝑻𝒐𝒚𝒔 (𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒙 𝒕𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔)

Eddie loves toys. He buys them for himself and you all the time. He favorite thing to do is use a vibrator on you while he's inside of you. But he also likes it when you use toys on him too. He likes to be overstimulated and edges with your vibrator on its highest setting. running it along his cock and sensitive tip.

𝑼= 𝑼𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 (𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔)

Eddie is a tease, but he hates to be teased. He'll constantly give you little light touches and whisper dirty things in your ear. "I bet you want my cock right now don't you?" Or "You wanna cum huh? Gotta beg me, first sweetheart. " His grin gives it away if he's in the mood to tease you. He'll run his hands close to the areas you want the most attention. His finger tips tracing little shapes in your skin. He knows what he's doing. He wants to get you all frustrated and frustrated. Just don't do that to him.

𝑽= 𝑽𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒆 (𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌)

Oh, he's loud. Eddie is very vocal. He moans, and he grunts, but also whimpers a lot, too. He talks a lot during four play. He likes to taunt you during that time. He does prefer to check in with you to ask if you're feeling good. He's always been that way, and you greatly appreciate it. He's louder than you now that you think about it. You remember a neighbor banging on your front door because Eddie was being too loud. The poor guy thought he was getting attacked.

𝑾= 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅 (𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒕)

Eddie loves attention and gets off to the thought of others watching him. Maybe touching himself or using a toy.

Eddie wants to get you pregnant one day. That's where his breeding kink comes into play. He wants to pump you full of his cum all the time.

Loves phone sex. He likes to talk, and the thought of getting you off with just his voice alone turns him on so much.

Likes chasing you around and pinning you down underneath him, but also likes it when he gets pinned down. He's stronger than you, but it turns him on so much when he lets you over power him.

𝑿= 𝑿-𝒓𝒂𝒚 (𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒎 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔)

I'd say he's pretty average, maybe a little bigger than average. He's thick, though. I like to think he's uncut. He likes to mock you if you're struggling to it all.

𝒀= 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍)

Eddie has a pretty high sex drive. If he's not thinking about sex. He's definitely having sex with you.

The little soft touches and intertwining his fingers with yours as he slowly pushes inside you. Hearing you cry out for him to take you harder. Holding you in his arms afterward. It's what makes his sexdrive so high. The thought of just bringing you so much pleasure and having you open up to him is what he looks forward to. You got this man yearning for you 24/7.

𝒁= 𝒁𝒛𝒛𝒛 (𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓)

He naturally has lots of energy. You're the one who passes out after. Most of the time, he's up and ready to do something else. He likes playing his guitar after while you sleep. In the off chance he actually does fall asleep, it's only because you two have been at it for hours and hours. He likes to be the big spoon when you're cuddling after. He'll let you be the little spoon on occasion. "Alright, sweetheart, you can the big spoon tonight." He prefers to keep you close with a hand holding one of your tits. Other than that, he's wide awake, letting you get plenty of rest.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson headcanons #scheduled post

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mydearzero · 2 years

Text

Posters on the Wall | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your bedroom is covered in posters of your celebrity crush; Kirk Hammett. It's not until Steve points it out that you notice a... similarity to another metalhead you know.

Smut, afab reader, PWP

Warnings: Daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), penetrative sex, creampie, slight praise kink.

5.1K words

18+ MINORS DNI

Your best friend Steve had been in your room many times before. There were no new posters, no new knick-knacks, which is why it was strange he suddenly seemed so darn interested in them. "You know..." He started, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. Oh god, this can't be good.

"You really have a type. Have you ever noticed?" He motioned to a couple of posters on your wall. They were primarily of popular metal and rock bands, but there were some solo posters of members you were crushing on. Kind of. Mainly Kirk from Metallica, but who could blame you? Kirk was 21 when he joined the band in 1983 and had the perfect looks and talent for you to swoon over. He was your favourite.

"What do you mean? A type?" You questioned, putting quotation marks around the 'type'. Steve laughed and pointed at a poster of Kirk that was hung right above your bed. "You don't see it?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You shook your head and shrugged.

"These guys look an awful lot like someone we know, don't you think?" Steve gestured at a cluster of pictures on your wall. Amongst the photos of musicians and actors, there were a few strewn about of your friends. "I still don't get it, Steve." You sighed as you glanced at the picture of Robin, Eddie and you that Steve had pointed at last.

"You're genuinely telling me that your lady-boner for Mr Hammett here has nothing to do with your crush on Mr Munson?" Steve scoffed. Your jaw dropped as you turned to glare at him.

"I do not have a crush on Eddie! Are you insinuating Kirk looks like him? That's what you were getting at?" You crossed your arms defensively. Your brows furrowed as you thought it through. Kirk and Eddie didn't look alike, did they? Steve could practically see the cogs turning in your head. He knew he was digging up an unspoken topic; your feelings for Eddie.

He didn't know what happened that night in the Upside Down. Nobody did, except Dustin, Eddie and you. The three of you refused to talk about it. Steve and Robin had discussed it and decided it must've been insanely traumatic. Hell, Eddie had almost died. Almost. Everybody had made assumptions about how you felt, but that incident settled it. You were in love with him, whether you knew it or not. You couldn't not be, not with the way you looked at him after that.

You shrugged it off and tried to ignore Steve's insinuation. He trotted down the stairs as you collected your things to head over to Eddie's trailer. Your eyes fell on the poster of Kirk hung above your bed, followed by the picture of Eddie and you on your bedside table. Maybe they did look kind of similar? You sighed as you shook your head at the idea. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs and out the front door.

The drive to Forrest Hills was strangely muted. Steve informed you Nancy had had to cancel, but otherwise, it was silent. You'd picked up Robin along the way. As usual, she immediately started chattering your ears off, breaking the silence. Steve pulled up and parked next to Eddie's van.

The man of the hour was already stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the doorframe. You didn't get to do this often; hang without the kids. You enjoyed their presence, but now and then you needed this. You think you all did.

Eddie invited you in, and you settled on the couch with Robin and Steve. Eddie prepared some drinks and snacks on a tray and balanced it on his hands as he took it to the living room, a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He set everything on the table and clapped his hands, waving them in the general direction of the cups. "Self-service, ladies and gentleman."

The night was relaxed, consisting of just games and fun chatter. When Robin finally brought up the topic of celebrity look-alikes, you glared daggers at a snickering Steve.

"I mean, it has to be Swayze, right? Eddie argued. You had been first, followed by Robin. Nobody could agree on which celeb looked like Steve, though.

Robin shook her head in disagreement. "It's Rob Lowe, I'm telling you." Steve scoffed. "So I just look like I should play in Youngblood? Because that's what I'm hearing. I don't even like hockey. Besides, Hargrove looks way more like Rob Lowe than I do."

You ended up agreeing that, yes, Steve just looked like he belonged between the generic heartthrobs.

When Eddie came up, Steve remained exceptionally hushed with a mischievous look threatening to spread across his face. You and Robin named a couple of famous actors and musicians before she turned to you and hit you on the shoulder repeatedly.

"Oh! That guy you had the wet dream about last week! The Metallica one on all those posters in your room!" Robin looked like she'd solved string theory as your face turned red. "Robin!" You whisper-shouted in a horrified tone, putting a hand over your face in embarrassment.

"It's Kirk Hammett," Steve spoke up.

"Yes! Thank you! You look like Kirk Hammett!" Robin exclaimed. You loved her, but God, did you want her to shut up like three sentences ago. Did she not hear what she was insinuating? That you’d had a wet dream about an Eddie look-alike? You wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

Eddie’s expression was illegible as he turned to Steve. “You know Metallica members, Harrington?”

“Just the one. I guess you’ve never been in that bedroom because you definitely would've remembered. The guy is everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, actually. Can’t change in there, feel watched.” Steve shuddered at the thought.

“Well, I guess I do see a similarity. I think it’s mainly the hair, though.” Eddie smirked smugly as he leaned back in the chair.

The discussion changed to one about hair, Steve’s to be precise. Yet you kept feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. You sighed as you reached for a chip and turned to Robin when the boys were busy discussing shampoo. “You couldn’t just have named anyone else?”

Robin shrugged. “They look alike. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

You watched Eddie as he playfully argued with Steve. The scar on his jaw was slowly fading, becoming less prominent. You guess he did kind of resemble Kirk if you squinted. You could admit Eddie was a handsome guy. Was Steve right? Did you have a crush on Eddie?

You imagined yourself with Eddie on a lazy Sunday morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast, arms wrapping around you as a kiss was planted on your cheek. Heat rose to your face when you realized that was definitely something you could see in your near future.

You tried imagining the same scenario with Steve, and although he too was handsome, the image wasn't accompanied by the same warm, longing feeling. Did you have feelings for Eddie?

Steve and Eddie immediately noticed your flustered expression. Eddie was merely curious, giving you those big questioning puppy eyes. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on. The knowing smirk as he glanced at Eddie before raising his eyebrows at you told you enough. His body language screamed ‘I told you so.’

You really, really wished you could control thought processes. While the domestic scene was adorable, your mind flashed back to Robin’s words and the implication they’d made. You’d told her about the dream in confidence. You hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d heard enough. Clearly, it had stuck.

And now you were stuck. The imagery of that night returned, but the hands trailing under your shirt were clad in familiar rings. The top you took off was suddenly one you recognized all too well. The chest your fingers traced was now adorned with tattoos and scars, the sight of which you were well acquainted with.

Dream-Kirk had morphed into Dream-Eddie, and your breathing quickened when you realized the new mental images had you clenching your thighs, wetter than you had ever been. Was your superficial crush on the guitarist just a projection of your feelings for Eddie?

Eddie had been observing you while he talked with Steve and Robin. You were being uncharacteristically quiet. He noticed the occasional flush of your cheeks and pressing of your legs. You were lost in thought, drink untouched in your hand. He turned to offer you some chips or anything else to your liking.

"Sex?" You were startled as Eddie spoke to you directly. You nearly dropped your drink as your jaw dropped in shock. "What?"

"I asked if you wanted some snacks. Where's your head at?" Eddie raised his eyebrows teasingly. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips as he watched you squirm and scold yourself. Where was your head at?

"Yeah, sorry, thanks. Guess I'm just a little... distracted today." You sighed as you took the chips from him. You munched on them silently as you sat there mortified. Of course, he didn't just fucking turn to you and ask you for sex.

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asked. You shook your head and chuckled. You glanced at Steve and Robin, who were lost in conversation. "Just, earlier..." You trailed off. Why you were even being honest, you didn't know.

"Oh, I can totally catch you up on which hair products Harrington uses. Apparently, it's this Farah Fawcett hairspray he— Hey! Ow!" He exclaimed in pain when you hit his shoulder.

"You know that's not what I meant, Eddie!" You muttered loudly.

"Hey, I was just giving you an out if you didn't want to breach the whole 'wet dream about my look-alike' topic." He laughed. You sighed as you looked up at him, your thighs involuntarily clenching at his expression. You weren't sure what he was thinking. His eyes darted to your thighs as he took his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your trance was broken by Robin clearing her throat. "It's getting late, your uncle is probably coming home soon, and I don't want to bother him. Should we go?" Steve nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess that's probably for the best." Eddie put his hands on his thighs as he pushed himself out of the chair. "C'mon, I'll drive you guys home." He motioned to Robin and you.

"No, that's okay. I'll take Robin. We live close anyways." Steve smiled. He openly winked at you as he said it. Bastard. Eddie neglected the fact that you lived closer to Robin than Steve did and agreed to be the one to take you home. Perhaps it was time you had a grown-up conversation with him about how you were feeling.

You got in the passenger seat and watched Steve and Robin drive off. An energy you were unfamiliar with filled the van. Tension, maybe? Mutual anticipation? You didn't dare turn to Eddie or open your mouth, afraid of what would happen if you did.

He started the van quietly. You watched as his right hand gripped the gear tightly, knuckles turning white. The left was holding the steering wheel for dear life. You'd hoped the grumbling engine would've broken the suspense hanging in the air, but it did no such thing.

You were almost convinced you'd been imagining things. That Eddie didn't feel what you did. That his breathing wasn't actually any different than usual. That he wasn't being weirdly distant. But all your worries were resolved when his right hand slowly found its way onto your thigh. The strained gasp that left your mouth shouldn't have been as relieved, as suggestive as it was.

"Tell me about the dream." Eddie finally broke the silence. You didn't know his grip on the wheel could tighten even more, but it did. The hand on your thigh was gentle in comparison, fingers tracing circles on the inside that had shivers going up your spine.

"I'm not sure I want to." You confessed quietly, looking out the window.

"Look at me when I talk to you, princess." Your eyes widened at the nickname. His voice had a tone you'd never heard from him before. "C'mon, tell me."

You hesitated, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. You didn't know where to start. "I guess it starts at a concert. And yo-he's playing the guitar. And I guess that's kinda... hot? And then the concert ends and we... y'know?"

Eddie chuckled at your reluctance. "Shit, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." He squeezed your thigh as he spoke, rubbing it a bit to encourage you to keep talking.

"It's nothing special, really. Just some making out and shit." You huffed, not wanting to go into detail. You tried to recall the dream as vividly as possible, and you were starting to doubt if it had ever even been about Kirk, or if it had been Eddie all along and you'd just convinced yourself it hadn't been. No matter, all the images were of Eddie now. They were consuming you slowly.

"If it's just the thought of making out with me that's been getting you so hot and bothered all night, I can't wait to find out what happens when we actually do, baby." Eddie's hand crept higher and higher up your thigh, eyes never leaving the road.

"It wasn't about you, Eddie." You scoffed. Your gaze was fixated on his profile, but he didn't let up.

"As long as you've got yourself convinced." His smile was mocking you when he finally made eye contact. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. Were you really that transparent all evening?

"It means you're soaked, sweetheart. And have been since you got the thought of me stuck in your head earlier." He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Like he told you the sky was blue, and the grass was green. A whimper left your throat when his finger traced the hem of your panties. How hadn't you noticed his hand coming up again?

"That's right, baby. Feel what I do to you? What the thought of me does to your pussy?" He stroked you through the dampened fabric. There were no longer any words coming from you, just sounds.

You mustered as much willpower as you could and spoke. "Eyes on the road, Munson." It was meant to sound confident, but Eddie knew he had you right where he wanted. Wet and desperate.

"I'm doing fine over here. It's you we should be worried about. Are you still breathing? Or have you just completely given up on all human function?" His chuckle was dark. Who was this person, and what had he done to sweet, loving Eddie? He was ridiculing you, and you were eating it up. How did he know which buttons to press so damn well?

"I'm breathing." You mumbled. Eddie snickered and shook his head. "More like hyperventilating. Speak up." Eddie finally stopped rubbing your clothed cunt to shift the gear and park his van by your house. You hadn't even noticed you'd arrived.

Eddie clicked and undid your seatbelt and motioned for you to get out of the car. You opened the door and put your feet on the gravel, knees weaker than you'd expected. The cold breeze blowing through the trees made goosebumps appear all over your body.

You walked to the door and unlocked it, not checking if Eddie followed you inside. You knew he never intended on just driving you home. He was coming inside.

You walked up the stairs and heard the front door close and lock. Eddie caught up to you and slapped your ass as you walked towards your room. “Nice house. Can’t believe I’ve never been here.” He mumbled as he walked up the stairs.

As soon as the door to your bedroom was opened, Eddie closed in on you. His hands found their way to your hips as he pulled you close. He looked around the room for a little and smirked. There were a lot of posters here.

He pulled you close and put a hand on your chin, tilting your face to his and kissing you softly. Even when he felt like ravaging you, he wanted your first kiss with him to be good, memorable. He felt you melt into his touch, relief washing over you when you finally got to put your lips against his.

When he pulled away, a whimper nearly left you. You managed to hold it in, but your anguished expression was obvious. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Eddie sighed as he towered over you and walked closer, making you walk back towards the wall.

He pushed you against the wall harshly, pressing his lips to your neck. "I understand what Harrington was getting at, now. Totally feel watched in here. Kinda hot, not gonna lie." He laughed as he pried your legs apart with his knee. He could feel the heat radiating from you as he pushed his knee against your cunt. "You into that kinda thing, baby? Maybe next time I'll take you somewhere with real people. Give 'em a little show."

You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your neck. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You're a filthy little slut who likes being watched." His hand shot up your shirt and groped your clothed breast roughly, pressing his lips to yours once more. The knee between your legs was torturing you, never quite giving the right amount of pressure or friction. You tried to grind down to seek it, but Eddie's hands went to your hips and stilled them instantly.

"Nu-uh, sweetheart. Only I get to play with your pussy. It's mine now, isn't it?" His kisses had stopped as he observed your expression, trying to read how far he could push it. You nodded wildly, silently pleading for him to continue. "Yes! All yours!" You whined and tried to pull him back into you.

Eddie grinned at your desperation, bringing his knee up just once to watch you keen. You tried to grind your hips down again but huffed in frustration as he held you in place. He reached for your arms, putting them above your head. He undressed you with ease, only leaving you in your bra and panties. "You look fantastic, sweetheart."

"Thank you, daddy." You sighed with your head thrown back, waiting for the touch of his lips to return. When they didn't, your head whipped back down as your eyes searched Eddie's face in confusion.

"What did you just call me?" He questioned cynically with his eyebrows raised. Your heart sank when you realized your mistake. You'd called him 'daddy', a thing you'd known about yourself but didn't dare mention to any of your friends.

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." You stammered, reaching for your shirt to put it back on. Eddie tutted as he took it from your hands with a teasing smile. "No, baby. It's alright. You're gonna stay right here for daddy, right?"

You nodded wildly and pushed your back against the wall again, awaiting his next move. When he reached to turn you around, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelped, whipping your head around to look at the perpetrator.

"Use your words for me, baby. No nodding or shaking your head, only 'Yes, daddy' or 'No, daddy.' Understood?" He asked, threatening to land another smack on the stinging area. You nodded before catching yourself. "Yes, daddy."

"Good girl."

The two-worded sentence sparked something new in you. A desire you weren't aware of. A need to please Eddie. You'd do anything to hear those words again.

"You like it when I call you a good girl? Made your legs clench, baby. So cute." Eddie whispered in your ear as his hand slid from your ass to your folds, rubbing softly over the fabric. You whined as you searched for more friction. "Yes, daddy. Please." You didn't know what you were begging for. You just needed him to do something.

You were still facing the wall when he pulled at your hips, bending you over. You put your hands against the wall to steady yourself.

He snapped the waistband of your underwear harshly before pulling them down your legs. He ensured his hands were touching you at all times, leaving trails of goosebumps wherever they went. His finger dipped between your folds, collecting the juice on his finger. He put his hand to your lips and bent forward to whisper in your ear. "Taste yourself for me, baby. Taste how much I turn you on."

You took his finger in your mouth right as he pushed another inside your cunt and swirled your tongue around it. Never in a million years would you have believed anyone who had told you this morning that coming nightfall, Eddie Munson's fingers would be knuckle deep inside your mouth and pussy. Yet here you were, and you were loving every second of it.

"That's right. So fucking wet for me. It's embarrassing. Do you have no self-control? Couldn't even think straight when our friends were around. How am I supposed to take you anywhere in the future if you're just gonna be a horny bitch?" Another smack landed on your ass. You grumbled a defence around his fingers, but it was unintelligible.

Another slap. "No back talking, sweetheart. If you're gonna behave like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one."

His fingers left your mouth, allowing you to speak again. "Eddie, please." You begged.

The fingers inside you found a cruel rhythm, curling right under the spot you wanted them to. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, found your clit and started rubbing circles around it. You struggled to stand upright, the arm reaching down your front being the only thing left to support you. "That's not my name, is it, baby?"

You shook your head, struggling to keep it up between your arms resting against the wall. "No, I'm sorry, daddy."

Eddie chuckled at your wanton apology. "That's alright, baby. You can make it up to daddy by lying on your bed for me."

You nearly tripped over your own feet with the speed you tried to get to your bed. The poster of Kirk above it got your attention, and suddenly you understood Steve and Eddie. You did feel watched. Eddie followed your gaze and rested his knee on the bed, leaning over you to rip the poster from the wall.

"Just you wait and see, sweetheart. In a few years, I'll be your celebrity crush." He smiled as he crumpled the poster and threw it to the floor.

"You already are. I'm kind of starting to believe my crush on Kirk was just me convincing myself I didn't have a crush on you." You confessed honestly.

Eddie's hand slid up your thigh as he put a hand beside you, leaning over you. It was only now you noticed he was still fully clothed.

"That's cute, baby. You have a crush on me?" He smirked when he reached behind your back to finally relieve you of your last piece of clothing. You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. You let him take your bra off and eagerly watched as he took off his shirt.

You watched him unbuckle his belt, and nerves settled in your stomach. Were you actually going to have sex with Eddie? You saw his bulge through his boxers and genuinely felt your mouth fucking water. Jesus H. Christ.

You got on your knees and shuffled to him to pull his boxers down. He stepped out of them and let out a relieved sigh when your hand cupped his balls as the other gripped him at the base. He was rock hard, dripping precum from the raging red tip. You gave it a small lick, collecting the liquid on your tongue. The salty flavour of Eddie took over your senses.

His hips bucked and he put a hand in your hair. You bent forward to take him in your mouth, but his grip on your hair stopped you. "Next time, kitten. Just give it a little kiss for daddy, will you?" He asked sweetly. You nodded with a pout, but puckered your lips, pressing a peck to the head of his cock.

"Attagirl." He gently pushed you on your back, climbing over you as he left a trail of kisses up your body. Your fingers discovered his torso, tracing the scars that adorned it. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially when they were more prominent, but you thought they were sexy as hell. They proved he was a hero.

His hand swiped between your folds, appreciating how wet you were and collecting as much of it as he could. He spread it over his dick sloppily, making an obscene squelching noise as he did so. The smile on his face was lewd when he observed you squirming in anticipation. "Didn't bring a condom, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna fill you up with my cum." He groaned.

You relished in the idea of being filled to the brim. You wanted Eddie inside, now. You tugged at the necklace that dangled in front of your face and pulled him close. That earned you a smack to the tit. A high-pitched cry left your mouth as you watched him in shock. "Desperate fucking whore. I'll fuck you when I feel like it. You're gonna wait patiently, or there will be consequences."

You didn't know whether to be scared or even more turned on at the threat.

He positioned his tip at your entrance and slid inside agonizingly slow. You shuddered as he bottomed out, a guttural moan bubbling from your chest. This was pleasure in its rawest form. He dragged his dick back out at the same agonizing pace before knocking the breath out of you with a harsh thrust.

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie." You tried to hold onto anything to steady yourself. Everything became too much. His brutal pace increased as he gave your other tit a smack. "Was so easy for you when you slipped up, baby. How do you keep forgetting now?"

"'M sorry, daddy." You were delirious when he brought his hand down to rub at your clit. The feeling of his tip hitting the right spot over and over and over, combined with the friction on your clit, was getting you close at a rate you'd never experienced. You weren't going to last if he kept this up.

"Gonna cum already? Feel so good on daddy's dick? Fuck, baby, you're already getting tighter." Eddie rambled as he drilled into you. You were an incoherent moaning mess, a jumbled mix of 'Daddy', 'Eddie' and 'Please' leaving your mouth. He didn't bother correcting you anymore. You were too far gone.

He pinched one of your nipples in tandem with pinching your clit, drawing pained moans out of you. It hurt so good. "Like it when it hurts, slut? Can't cum without the pain?" He asked accompanied by lethal jabs at your cervix. You hated how it nearly sent you over the edge. How he was able to bring out the worst in you. How he knew what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself.

Your moans and whines were increasing in volume and quantity. Eddie could feel you were close and started chasing his own release. He grabbed your shoulder, using it as leverage to push as deep and fast as possible.

You felt him twitch inside. He was no longer talking, just grunting and moaning as he watched your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts. His free hand went back down to your clit and put a delicious amount of pressure on it, rubbing in time with the slapping of his balls against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed that little pussy full with my cum." He groaned. With a few last thrusts and whines from both parties, he stilled and spilt inside. The feeling sent you over the edge, one last exclamation of "Daddy!" leaving you as you came. He stayed inside a bit longer, admiring your sweaty, heaving shape as you came down from your high.

He slowly pulled out and admired the cum spilling from your pussy with a proud look. He bent down and licked some of it up, making you hiss at the sensitivity of your spent cunt. He chuckled and looked up at you. "Hi." He smiled.

"Don't you 'Hi' me when you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Munson." You groaned. He just laughed and dragged his body back up and told you to open your mouth. A mix of cum and saliva dripped from his mouth to yours.

"Swallow, baby." He smirked. You did as you were told and showed him your empty mouth. "Good girl." He bent down and kissed you softly, in stark contrast to the proper fucking he just gave you.

Eddie plopped down beside you and looked around the room properly for the first time. He noticed more details now, like the number of pictures of him that were sprinkled in amongst those of Kirk. "If I were to cut my hair, would you still like me? Because it seems like that's your thing."

You laughed and looked around your room. "Yeah, I'd still like you, dumbass."

"Good, good. When Corroded Coffin blows up, you're gonna have to deal with a grand bout of jealousy, babe. That's gonna be me up on girls' walls." He stated matter of factly.

"I think I'll manage."

"Yeah, just go running to Kirk. Maybe by that time, I'll even be able to introduce you." Eddie smirked as he lay on his side, putting a hand under his head to support it. He gazed down at you with an expression you'd never seen on him before. A mix of glee, pride and admiration.

"In your dreams, Eddie." You scoffed as you pushed against his arm, making his head fall back to the mattress.

"Actually, in your dreams. Isn't that how we ended up like this, anyways?"

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