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another-fic-another-planet · 3 years ago

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SUB EDDIE IS SOMETHING ELSE

Take Control

Pairing: Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Reader

Summary: Eddie wants to switch things up in the bedroom, so he asks you to take control

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), sub!eddie, dom!reader, minimal use of (y/n), name calling (good boy, pretty boy, pathetic), use of the name ma'am, slight degradation, praise, slapping, begging, oral (m and f receiving, teasing, edging, light overstimulation, ball play, pussyjob, cum play, spitting, use of handcuffs, unprotected sex choking, minor breeding kink, creampie, squirting

WC: 4.4K

(first time writing sub!eddie, hope you enjoy!)

Remember to reblog and support the writer!

Eddie’s statement took you by surprise. The two of you just had some of the most craziest sex and now he was bringing up how he wanted to try to be the submissive type next time. You didn’t have the problem with it, you were just shocked by the whole thing. Eddie never pegged you as someone to be submissive, he always had this dominance about him; in and out of the bedroom. Of course, you were willing to try anything for him.

“W-we don’t have to try it, it’s just an option.” Eddie hid his face in the pillow before you lifted your hand to brush some of his hair out of the way. His face was flushed pink and his eyes were glossy. He hadn’t been crying, but when he got shy they always glossed over. You found it really cute.

You gave him a soft smile, “we can try it, Eddie. I would actually love to see you try and be a good boy for me.” Eddie had a physical reaction at that name. His whole body stiffened up and you wouldn't be surprised if he had gotten hard all over again. You would remember this for later.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he caught you smirking at him, “that was not funny at all.” He rolled over top of you and smushed your body with his. “You’ll regret that.”

“We’ll see about that when you’re the one on your knees begging to be touched.” You gently pushed his body off of yours and rolled over. His arm wrapped around your body and pulled you close, the two of you falling fast asleep.

It had been some odd weeks since your talk with Eddie. The thought of him being on his knees for you and begging never left your mind. You’ve done some “studying” since he asked to be the submissive one for a change. By “studying” you mean going to Family Video’s back section and renting everything that you could on being what the porn industry called a femdom. Sure, you got weird looks from Robin and Steve, but you just brushed it off and told them to mind their own.

There wasn’t a huge selection of videos for you to choose from. A lot of people probably weren’t into it, but from what you’ve seen, you’ve never wanted to try something more. You love the thought of telling Eddie what to do and him begging you to cum. Just the mere thought of it had your panties soaked.

After enough studying, you felt like you knew enough that you could be good at it. It couldn’t be that hard, right? You’re sure that Eddie would like it to. You being a submissive for him got him hard, but you being in charge? It was going to be fun to see his reaction to you and what you had planned. It was going to be a really fun and wild night, especially for you.

You quickly got dressed, making sure to put on some heels that would have Eddie speechless. They made you tall, not taller than him, but tall enough to put him in his place. What made them even better was that the words “seduce me” were engraved into the bottoms of them. You were sure that Eddie would have a metaphorical heart attack at the sight of them.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer was short and thankfully neither he or Wayne were home. Wayne was out of town for some work which left the trailer empty for some very adult fun.

You went inside and headed straight into Eddie’s room. Quickly, you stripped off your jacket, leaving you in just a black lingerie set. You laid yourself down on the bed and as soon as Eddie’s scent that was on his pillows hit your nose, your hand slid into your panties. You couldn’t help yourself. The need you had for this man was out of this world, even smelling him sent you into a wild frenzy.

Your fingers immediately found your swollen clit and a small gasp left you. Sure, Eddie’s fingers would be oh so much better, but yours would have to do for now.

The familiar sound of Eddie stomping up the wood steps caught your attention and instead of stopping your movements, your hand kept rubbing fast circles on your clit. Small moans kept slipping out of your mouth, it’s like you wanted to be caught.

For a moment, your eyes closed from the pleasure but shot back open once Eddie cleared his throat. “What a sight to come home to.” He dropped the stuff that was in his hands before trying to climb over you. You stopped him, pressing the bottom of the heel gently against his chest. “What is this?”

“Who said you could come and try to touch me?” You smirked as you watched Eddie’s brown and wide eyes get even wider. Seems that he had forgotten what the two of you had planned. “You have to prove what a good boy you are before you can touch any of this.” You free hand motioned towards your body and Eddie gulped, practically drinking you in.

The shoe on his chest pushed him down to his knees and a smile crept across your lips. “I knew you would look cute on your knees, but not this cute.” You removed your hand from your panties and leaned up. “Go ahead and read the bottom of my shoe, okay?”

Eddie stammered, gently grabbing your ankle. “Y-yes, ma’am.” That name, that fucking name. Eddie was going to be the death of you. Seeing him be so vulnerable and open for you - fuck.

You watched as Eddie read the words on your shoe and you couldn’t help but giggle at him. The color had drained from his face and his Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he gulped. “You want me to..” His voice trailed off as he motioned towards the words. All you had to do was nod and he was on his feet, slowly stripping off his clothes. You could see the print of his hard cock pressing against his rough jeans.

“Awe, is the pretty boy already hard for me.” You faked a sympathetic voice and reached your hand out to drag your fingers against his jeans, dancing them over where the head of his cock was. Just as Eddie was about to let out a moan, you drew your hand back and watched him pout. “Told you that you have to earn it.”

He rolled his eyes and you stood up, just almost towering over him. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Eddie tried to answer, stuttering as he tried to find the right words to say. You raised your hand and slapped him, just hard enough to leave a light sting. As soon as your hand made contact with his cheek, he let out a broken whine.

“M’sorry, ma’am.” Eddie’s bottom lip popped out in a pout and he tried his best to give you his best puppy dog eyes. That wouldn’t work on you, not this time.

You sat back down on the bed, lifting your hips to rid yourself of your soaked panties. You threw the panties at Eddie and spread your legs, giving him a full view of your pretty pussy. “Come over here and show just how sorry you are.” Your voice was stern, showing him that you meant business.

Before Eddie sunk to his knees, he brought your panties up to his nose. You watched as he sniffed them and you had to forcibly hold back the moan that was begging to come out. His tongue darted out and licked at the wet spot that you had left. Looks like keeping up this femdom demeanor was going to be harder than it looks because at this moment, you wanted him to just take you.

Once he was finally on his knees, you wrapped your legs around his shoulders and practically locked him in. “You don’t get to stop until I say you do.” Eddie didn’t seem to care at all about that, going and attacking your clit as fast as possible. His plump lips wrapped around it and sucked like his life depended on it. Your fingers carded through his hair and you tugged which each suck he took, “that’s it, doing s-so well, making me feel good,”

You felt his tongue lick down, prodding open your soaked hole. Eddie hummed at the taste and you gasped, feeling the vibrations. God, he was doing so a good fucking job. He already had you so close, but you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction just yet. Your legs fell from his shoulders and you pushed him away.

“I wasn’t done.” Eddie’s face inched back towards your pussy and you placed your foot back against his chest. He whined, his cock bobbing in the air each time he moved.

“You don’t get to get me off, not this time.” You slid two of your own two fingers inside your aching pussy and threw your head back at the feeling. “Gonna m-make myself, fuck, cum.” You curled your fingers, hitting the right spot with each thrust of them.

The way your body began to spasm had Eddie in absolute awe. Your thighs shook and the wet sounds that were coming from your pussy were so loud. The coil inside your body snapped and your body stiffened. No moans left your mouth, it was just silent screams. It felt so good for only you doing it.

You calmed down and gave Eddie a hazy smirk, his cock throbbing at the show he just got. “Only good boys get to make me cum and you haven’t fully proven yourself yet.”

Eddie’s eyes were glued to your fingers as he watched them dip back down into your dripping hole, only to pull out with cum glistening around them. Instinctively, he opened his mouth, wordlessly begging to taste the mess you had made. You took pity on him, slowly running your fingers over his lips, wetting them, before sliding them into his waiting mouth. His tongue rolled over and between fingers, licking them clean. He whimpered at the taste, needing more. You clenched around nothing, watching as he pulled away with a pop, your cum lingering on his tongue.

“Look at you, you can’t get enough.” He chased your fingers as you pulled them away, plopping them into your own mouth. You enthralled him and he loved everything about it. “Don’t you wish you could’ve tasted this when it came from the source?”

Eddie nodded his head, “so bad, so fucking bad.”

Your eyes scanned down his body, landing on his aching cock. It was begging for your attention. Tip an angry red and precum leaking from his slit, leaking so much that it was dripping onto the floor below him. Your mouth watered at the sight, but you had to remain strong. You had more planned for him.

“Get on the bed for me, pretty boy.” He followed your orders, practically jumping to get on the bed. You got behind him, your clothed breasts pressed against his toned back. Your nipples hardened even more at the contact, and even more when you wrapped your arms around him, your nails dragging up his thighs. Eddie’s muscles twitched under your touch. “I’ve barely even touched you and look at how you're acting,” your fingertip drug passed his cock, right to where his pubic bone was. “How pathetic.”

You brought your hand up to his face again, this time asking him to spit. Eddie obliged, spitting into your hand and watching as you moved it downward, forming a fist and every so lightly wrapping it around the tip of his cock. He threw his head back against his shoulder and you brushed his unruly hair out of the way. “Gotta see this face while I make you feel good.” You squeezed his cock, a high pitched whine falling from his lips. “Tell me how good it feels.”

His breath hitched, turning his head a bit to get a better look at your face. “Feels so good. Your hand is so wet and warm, a-almost as good as your - shit - pussy.” You squeezed the tip harder, more precum falling from the slit. “You’re so good to me, ma’am. T-thank you.”

You moved your hand faster, moving it all the way down the base and back up. The only sounds heard were the wet slick sound of your hand on his cock, the low grunts coming from Eddie, and his heavy breaths. “I can feel you throbbing in my hand.”

You wrapped your other hand around him, bringing it down to cup his heavy and full balls. He bucked into your fist and you could tell he was close. His balls tensed up and his stomach muscles tightened. Just before he could explode all over your hand, you pulled away. You chuckled at the whimper that left him. His cock even more red than when you started. Eddie wouldn’t get let off that easily.

“I- please..” Who knew seeing Eddie beg would have your mind reeling. His face was flushed pink, brown hair now a bit darker with sweat as it sticks to his skin, and his heart beating so fast that you could almost see it through his chest. Eddie already looked so fucked out and you had barely done a thing to him yet.

Eddie went to speak again but stopped once he watched you get on your knees in front of him. This had to be in his top three views of life. He loved how your lips always opened wide for his cock and how you would just swallow him whole. Tonight would be different, this time you were in control of his own blow job, not him.

You leaned your body forward and placed kisses all over his thick thighs, trailing your tongue over each place where your lips had just been. His chest fell as he took a deep breath, his deep brown eyes never leaving yours. Your hands spread his legs more with your hands, his cock right in front of your mouth. To tease him even more, your tongue darted out to lick out his leaking slit, tasting the thick and salty precum. “All this is for me?” You licked and closed your eyes, savoring the taste of him.

“S’all for you, ma’am.” What a good boy he was being for you, using his manners. You taught him so well.

“You’re just a leaky and hard good boy for me, aren’t you?” Eddie couldn't answer you, words leaving his brain as your mouth wrapped around his hefty tip. His hand came to wrap itself in your hair and you just swatted it away as you pulled your lips back, “Still no touching. You have to resist those urges.”

You pushed Eddie's hands behind him, before telling him to sit down. “You’re gonna sit on your hands so I know you won’t touch.”

His low groan turned into a growl as you put your mouth back on him, sliding it all the way down until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged around him, trying to fit as much as possible. He was already so close to cumming from all the teasing you had been doing, but you weren’t going to let him cum just yet.

You pulled off of his cock again, a string of salvia mixed with precum connecting you to it. The image was so lewd, but so very hot. You took his cock into your hand, fisting it and causing a string of curse words to fall from Eddie’s lips. When you looked up, you noticed just how swollen and bright red his lips were. Swollen from all the biting at them he had been doing.

Trailing kisses down the shaft of the underside of his cock, you stopped once you reached his balls. Eddie’s hands twitched under him. He was aching to just grab you by your hair and make you suck his cock. This was torturous, but Eddie knows that if he were to try that though, it would be even longer before he would cum.

You sucked both of them into your mouth and rolled your tongue over the soft skin. Above you, Eddie was absolutely losing it. He had fallen back against the bed, his face shoved into the pillows. He was trying so hard to not cum without permission but with his balls in your mouth, it was getting harder and harder (just like his cock).

The familiar feeling of his balls tensing up stopped your movements. You kept his balls in your mouth, but removed your hand from his aching cock, it slapping against his stomach. Eddie was a blubbering mess. Never has he wanted to cum so bad, he ached for that feeling of a sweet release.

“Not yet, but soon.” Was all you said and you stood back up before making your way back to the bed. You swung your legs on either side of Eddie’s thighs. He looked up at you with hope that he would finally get his cock inside your sweet pussy. That hopefulness vanished from his eyes when you hovered over his cock as it was still against his stomach. You didn’t move it, just rubbing your soaked pussy over it, causing the both of you to let out little mewls. Neither of you had felt something like this before and as much as you wanted to tease him more, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to resist his begging in this new position.

You rocked your hips back and forth, your clit catching on the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good, he felt so good.

“P-please let me touch, I need to feel you.” Eddie reached for your hips, afraid that you might swat him away again. This time you didn’t swat him away, you let him grab at your thick thighs and squeeze at the supple skin. “Your pussy feels so good, will never get tired of it.” He bucked his hips up, knocking his cock into your clit more.

You ran your fingers up his chest, dragging your nails back down it. He looked so cute, being marked by you. “Gonna be a good boy and cum for me? Make a mess all over yourself so I can clean it up?” Your hips were moving faster with each word that came from your mouth.

Soon enough you were cumming over his cock, wet squelching noises coming from where your pussy ran over his cock. “S-such a good fucking boy for me, all for me.” You could barely concentrate on what you were saying, too busy focusing on the pure bliss that you were feeling.

Feeling your pussy soak his cock made Eddie’s whole body tense up. He wanted to cum, but he was waiting for you to say it was okay. All you had to do was nod your head and was cumming all over his happy trail and his lower stomach. You had never seen him cum so much. Eddie’s moans were loud, almost pornographic and you were mesmerized. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth fell open. Everything about him was so perfect.

You giggled as you both came down, scooting down his thighs. “Told you I’d clean up the mess you made, didn’t I?” Leaning down, you licked up all of his cum. Instead of swallowing it, you crawled back up his body and pried open Eddie’s mouth with your fingers. You spit his cum into his mouth and watched as he swallowed every bit of it. “Don’t you taste just so good?”

“T-thank you so much ma’am.” Eddie gave you a sleepy smile and pulled you down until his lips brushed against yours. “May I kiss you?”

How could you deny him when he was being this sweet? You pressed your lips to his, the two of you molding together. Eddie’s cock pressed against your thigh, already getting hard again. This man's recovery time was out of this world, you had never seen someone with such high stamina. There needs to be some sort of an award for it.

“You wanting to cum again already?” You reached down between the two of your sweaty bodies and found his hardening cock. Eddie hissed at your hand grabbing him, “awe, is someone sensitive?” You stroked his cock, it fully hardened in your hand. Without thinking twice, you lifted your hips and lined his cock up with your entrance. You only slid down enough for the tip of his cock to poke through your entrance.

Eddie’s face contorted in pleasure. “Please, fucking please.” Fuck, he looked so good when he was begging. Lip tucked between his teeth and his eyes just so big.

He tried to buck his hips, but you placed your hands on them and tried your best to pin them down. “I need to be inside you so bad, I need to feel how much I stretch you out, ma’am.”

You couldn’t deny him anymore, not when you were just as needy as him. Before you started to move, you leaned over and grabbed the black handcuffs that set nicely on the nightstand. This wasn’t in your original plan, but you were being spontaneous. Eddie’s eyes widened at your actions as you brought the cuffs up to his wrists and clasped them on. The cuffs weren’t attached to anything, just his own hands to make him feel a little restricted. You made sure they weren’t too tight before dropping his hands above his head.

Eddie groaned and tried to grab at your hips as you dropped down. He was fully seated inside you and he was trying so hard to pull at the cuffs, but they didn’t budge as much as he wanted. All he needed in that moment was to feel your body, your tits under his hands. There was no better feeling than this one.

“I just need to have m-my hands on you.” You watched as he tried to break free from the cuffs, but you knew just how strong they were.

“Look at how needy you are,” you slowed your bounces down and smirked at him. “Just so desperate to touch me, aren’t you? So desperate to just please me.” Eddie jumped as you traced your nails over where his wrists strained against the cuffs. “I think it’s just so cute.”

You clenched your pussy around his cock and let out a laugh as Eddie threw his head back against the pillows. “Fucking hell, you are so tight, ma’am.” You rolled your hips against his, his pubic bone hitting just the right spot on your clit. “Love when you take control, just always wanna be your good boy.” And that he was.

Rolling your hips, you moaned a bit louder when Eddie’s pubic bone hit the perfect spot on your clit. “When you’re a good boy, you get rewarded.”

You reached down and wrapped your small hand around his throat and gave a good squeeze. his eyes rolled in the back of his head and for a moment, you were scared that it was too much. Just as you were about to pull away, he grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand around his throat. “D-don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.” Never have you seen Eddie like. So needy and just putty in your hands. You loved the control you had over him.

Each bounce on his cock was another squeeze to his throat. You could tell that he was in heaven; as were you.

A loud moan escaped your lips, your head falling into the crook of Eddie’s neck. His cock was hitting that deep spot inside you so well and you were seeing stars. “You gonna breed this pussy? Just fill it full of your cum? Make it your pussy?” You started to bounce rougher and Eddie kept moaning your name. The two of you were getting so close and this time you wanted to cum together.

“Please, please, please let me fill you.. I need to make you feel good ma’am.”

It didn’t take much longer for you to both find that release. You clenched down onto his cock, gushing all over it, covering his thighs in your juices. Your thighs shook over his, your whole body convulsing from pleasure. “Fuck Eddie, that’s it.” You gripped his shoulders so hard that your nails left indents. “You make me feel so good, god.”

The feeling of you squeezing his cock sent Eddie into overdrive. You watched as his stomach muscles twitched and his breaths got more ragged and deep the closer he got. His cum shot deep inside of you, it leaking out over his cock and mixing with your own orgasm. “Oh god, (Y/N). Just like fucking that. Fuuuuck.”

The both of your moans mingled together, the both of you being so loud. Nothing could be heard over them.

You slowly rocked your hips, riding out both of your highs. Once you felt that you both had enough time to catch your breaths, you undid the cuffs and placed soft kissing on his wrists, smiling up at him.

Eddie wrapped his big arms around your body as you placed soft kisses around his neck. He chuckled and you pulled away and gave him a confused look. “That was honestly some of the best sex we have ever had.” It was his turn to brush your sweaty hair from your face. “You fucking surprised me, thats for sure.

You gave him a cocky smile and clenched around him again. “Just remember who is better at being in charge.” His eyes screwed shut with you clenching, he had never been so sensitive. You lifted your lips as he pulled his cock out, a wet noise coming from you as more of his cum leaked out of you.

The two of you smirked at the mess as you laid beside him, handing him a water bottle that was on the table beside his bed. “You did really well though, Eddie. You surprised me as well.” You placed a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and he gave a smile before yawning. “Think we both need a long nap after what just happened.”

Eddie laughed and pulled you closer to him, “We’ll nap and then we can see who really is the better at being in charge.” He lightly slapped your ass before pulling the covers over you two. Looks like you started a competition and you were determined to win.

Tags: @bayouteche @resident-gay-bitch @sammy-lestrade @multifan-smc @strangeballoons @hellfire-isnt-it @damn-goodbabysitter @thatalien666

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another-fic-another-planet · 3 years ago

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Girls Like Girls

Pairing: Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's hard to keep to yourself when your crush is straddling you

Warnings: fluff, lots of fluff, mutual pining, suggestive themes, kissing, making out

WC: 1.4K

(First time writing for chrissy, hope you enjoy!)

Remember to reblog and support the writer!

Chrissy was your best friend, the best girl in your life. You two did absolutely everything together, you were inseparable. The feelings you had for her came out of the blue. You always thought it was just a silly little schoolgirl crush, but the more you looked at her, the more you realized that oh my god, I’m in love with you. How could you not be in love with someone like her? Everything about her was absolutely perfect. From the way she looked all the way to how caring she was for others. You loved the way her ponytail would bounce when she would full-body laugh, how she would always hum her favorite songs, or how she accepted you for who you were.

You never really knew if the feelings were mutual, always assuming that they weren’t. Especially since she had just broken up with Jason. You never wanted to ask and then be rejected. Losing Chrissy as a crush was okay, but to lose her as your best friend? That was something that couldn't happen, you wouldn’t allow it.

What you didn’t know was that Chrissy felt the same exact way, maybe even more than you did. She saw you in a different light than others did. You always had this bright smile on your face and she thought that maybe, just maybe, she was the reason for it. Even if she wasn’t the reason, she still had this hope.

Chrissy laughed from across the room and it was only then that you noticed that she caught you staring at her. “What are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours?”

Your whole body wanted to just scream YOU, but you held it down and just brushed it off. “Ya know, just stuff.”

She didn’t buy that for one minute. Chrissy was always able to see through your walls. “Oh, c’mon, it couldn’t be that bad.” She put her makeup brushes down and turned toward you, her smile wide. “You know I won’t judge you.”

Yeah, let me just confess my feelings for you, Chrissy. I’m sure you wouldn’t be weirded out at all.

Not knowing what to exactly say, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. “I want you to do my makeup.” Out of all the things you could’ve said, it just had to be that one. You never wore makeup and suddenly you were showing an interest? Chrissy was going to pry at you now.

“Really?” Chrissy looked at you with her eyes all big and you almost lost your breath at how beautiful she was in that moment, in every moment. You nodded your head and she was making her way over to you with her makeup bag in your hand. “I never thought you would ask!”

Instead of prying, she did what you least expected. She gently laid your back against her pillows and straddled your waist. If you weren’t dead yet, you’re sure you would be soon. This position was very intimate and you don’t know if you would be able to control anything coming out of your mouth when she’s on you like this.

Chrissy leaned down, her face now just inches from yours. Were you still breathing? Were you in heaven? “Earth to, (Y/N). Did you hear what I asked?”

“Uh - I didn’t,” oh god, you were so nervous at how close she was. “What did you ask?”

She leaned back up and you consciously thanked god that she did. “I asked how you wanted your makeup. Do you want it like mine or something different?”

“Yours, I want it like yours.” You blurted your answer just as she finished asking you the question. Maybe it was a bit too fast, but her makeup always looked so good.

Your eyes scanned down her body as Chrissy started to run the makeup brushes over your face. Her cheerleading skirt was hiked up and you noticed your heart beating faster than it ever had. You tried to calm down, and catch your breath. You didn’t want to scare her off.

On the other hand, Chrissy was also trying to contain herself. She wanted to lean down and plant kisses all across your face until stopping at your lips. Oh, your lips. Just so perfect and soft. Chrissy wanted to claim them, claim you as hers.

When you noticed Chrissy staring down at you blushed. You didn’t know if she noticed though (she did) with the makeup covering your face.

Chrissy seemed to be really enjoying doing your makeup. Her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration and her eyes darting across your face to make sure everything was even. She always begged to do your makeup and now that you finally let her, she couldn’t contain her excitement.

Suddenly, the two of you made eye contact and as cliché, as it sounded, it was like the world around you stopped moving. You would never get over how beautiful her blue eyes were, you could literally swim in them. Just everything about her was so goddamn flawless.

Your body was moving before your brain could even process what you were doing, your lips were being pressed to hers. Was this happening right now? You expected Chrissy to pull away or push you away, but neither of those happened. Instead, she pressed into you more, her arms coming to hang around your neck loosely. You pushed the boundaries a little and held onto her hips, causing Chrissy to sigh into the kiss.

You pulled away and the nervous rambling started. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean - that wasn’t supposed to happen. If we could just never talk -

Chrissy cut you off with another kiss and all of your muscles relaxed. When did you become so tense? Her lips were just as soft as you imagined them to be. They molded together with yours perfectly, like you were made for each other. Her tongue lightly ran across your bottom lip and you slightly opened your mouth for her, both of your tongues now running across each other. A kiss is one thing, but a make-out? Are you sure you weren’t dead and in heaven now?

This time it was Chrissy’s turn to pull away and she giggled at the goofy smile plastered on your blushing face. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

She wanted to do that? There’s no way. “R-really? I never thought you liked,” you motioned to yourself, “girls or even me.”

“I’ve liked you for a while now. I tried not to, but I just, I couldn’t help myself.” Chrissy now was the one with a goofy smile on her face. “It’s hard to not like you.”

You sat up, now at eye level with her. “Hard not to like me? Have you seen yourself?” A deep blush spread across Chrissy’s face and you cupped her cheeks. “I’ve liked you for so long.. maybe even loved you.” You whispered the last part, internally hoping that she didn’t hear it, but hoped failed you this time.

“You love me?” Chrissy’s eyes got brighter and her smile got bigger if that was even possible. You didn’t expect her to react like this at all. “I feel the same way, I always have.” She played with the hem of your shirt out of nervousness. “I was so scared that you never felt the same way, but now that I know,” she let go of your shoulder and grabbed at your hands, interlocking your fingers, “I wouldn’t want to change a thing.”

This was all happening so quickly and you’re not sure how you got into the position you were in, but you were loving every minute of it. Sure, your heart was skipping beats, but you’ll live.

“So, now what?” You read Chrissy’s face for any type of answer but all she did was rest her forehead against yours.

“We go on a date and not a friendly one either.” She pulled you closer to her, your body now pressed right against hers. “We hold hands and do all that mushy and cheesy stuff we see in romantic movies.”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around her, “as long as it’s with you, I don’t care what we do.”

“Girlfriends.” Chrissy quietly whispered, mostly to herself but you caught on.

You got lucky this time, but a part of you wasn’t shocked. Chrissy had always been accepting of you and what came with you. And now that you got to call her your girlfriend? You were even luckier.

Tags: @multifan-smc @onehotgreasymechanic @dixontardis @thefreakofhawkins86 @hellfire-isnt-it @wroteclassicaly @klea221

#WE SUPPORT WLW #chrissy x reader #stranger things

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another-fic-another-planet · 3 years ago

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we love a good innocent!reader kink and back and forth snark

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: eddie's got a late night bone to pick with you; only one minor sexual inconvenience in the way, but that doesn't stop you from picking up his call and eddie doesn't want to hang up either.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, really talkative reader & eddie (these two never shut up), lots of dirty talk, small innocence!kink, mentions to reader's body (only compliments, no descriptions), if i missed anything pls let me know.

word count: 3.4k — part two

The deep coiling heat undulated through your entire body, fingers curling inside you at an angle that wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. That dull ache digging at you, like an annoying itch you couldn’t scratch. It felt close, yet so far of that you couldn’t even reach it. You sighed harshly, eyes drifting close in hopes that maybe it would help—anything, just some peace and quiet, forcing your mind to focus on the feeling of your body and nothing else, finger dipping into your the slick wetness of your cunt, dragging up slowly toward your clit—yes, that helped. You breathed deep, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, that familiar tinge of want and pleasure radiating throughout your entire body, building, and building—-

The bloodcurdling ring of your phone cuts through the air, nestled in the corner of your bedside table. You’ve never wanted to smash something into pieces so much in your entire life.

Who the fuck could be calling at this time of night?

You yank the phone from its resting place, cord wrapping around your wrist in the process, but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it. You lean over the bed slightly, settled onto your side, before answer with a very clipped:

“What?”

“Who pissed you off, princess?” Eddie fucking Munson.

It never failed.

“If you keep talking, it’s going to be you.” You retort, still mildly aware of the hand tucked between your legs, not touching anymore, but hovering, waiting for this painful phone call to end.

“Harsh.” Eddie replies, feigning a weak implication of hurt in his tone. “I just wanted to let you know that you grabbed my dice by mistake after the campaign tonight.”

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes closed, tapping the speaker of the phone against your head in frustration. You had been so quick to rush out of there today, you didn’t even think, blindly grabbing your shit and hightailing it home.

“And I hate to make a big deal about it, but those are my lucky dice.” He points out. You can’t help the eye roll that escapes you, Eddie could practically hear it through the phone.

“And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” You ask impatiently. The man was wasting precious time, time that you would be spending doing something much more enjoyable. “I’m busy.”

It comes out, a Freudian slip. You could’ve just assure him you’d bring them in the morning and the conversation would be null and void, but no; now Eddie was intrigued.

“Busy? It’s midnight—what the hell could you be busy with right now?” He asks, attempting to compile a list of reasons but coming up with a big fat goose egg.

“Sleeping, Eddie.” You deadpan.

“You don’t sound like it.” Eddie says honestly. “Wait, were you—“

“Eddie!” You yell, a desperate attempt to stop where this conversation was headed—but Eddie, ever the persistent.

“Ha!” He laughs, seemingly clapping his hands together over the phone, “I knew you weren’t so innocent—all that bullshit about never being kissed and—“

“Ed-die,” You stress, begging him to tone down the teasing. It wasn’t that you felt ashamed, everything you’d told him was true. You hadn’t explored much outside of yourself—you know your body best and that was all that mattered. Why did you even need the help?

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes sincerely, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, really. If I had known, I would’ve just waited until tomorrow.”

“There’s no way you could’ve, dipshit.” Eddie snorts at the nickname, savoring the bite in your tone. “Besides, it helps me sleep.”

“Shit, me too.” He laughs softly and you can’t help but laugh either, though it only lasts a few seconds before you’re mentally shoving your hand over your mouth, begging your brain to process shit before it comes out of your mouth. “It’s not that easy, is it? Trying to concentrate and everything.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, wondering why he hadn’t just hung up the phone. But, he continues; you can’t help but listen.

“Not when I have meatheads like you bothering me,” You snark, the dull ache in your cunt still hadn’t settled, and you really hated yourself for your next move, but it was necessary.

Your finger rubs over your clit gently, slow enough that you can keep your composure, but allow just enough relief that it wasn’t bothering you as much.

“Not a meathead—That’s reserved for Jason and his band of assholes.” You could appreciate his mutual distaste, feeling bad for stacking him in with them.

“Sorry.” You meant it.

“It’s fine, princess.”

You’re so used to the term that it really shouldn’t bother you, it hardly ever does, but with your hands down your underwear, attempting to work yourself through a desperately needed orgasm, you couldn’t help but play it in your head, the sound of his voice, like a tape on repeat.

And this felt so wrong, but Eddie noticed your prolonged silence. He leans into it, nudging you further.

“Do you need help?” He asks innocently, his voice remaining it’s normal bravado, but you can feel the anticipation in the way he waits for your answer.

“With touching myself?” You ask boldly; what a night this was turning into. “I think I’m good on that.”

“No with, you know, getting there.” He says coyly and you can hear the should shrug through the phone, the way his head tilts to the side innocently. “I can help, if you want.”

“You wanna help me orgasm?” You ask, still gathering what little sanity you had left for the night. “Over the phone?”

“Sure,” He says easily. This didn’t feel real and maybe you were having some fucked up dream you’d wake up from any moment; another weird sex dream, albeit almost always involving your one particular friend, who just so happened to be on the other line offering up his services, selflessly, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

And why wouldn’t you be? Aside from the potential awkwardness of having to face Eddie at school after this, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea—and Eddie was never the type to shove a situation like this back in your face, he knew your boundaries. Plus, you’d kill him if he ever did.

“Okay,” You agree, voice hesitant. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Shit, okay.” He answers, half-expecting you to back out.

You doubled down, “I don’t have a lot of time, so make it quick.”

Quick. Eddie could do quick—except he’s never done this before and has no idea what to say or do, he was going in blind.

“Uh, well,” He laughs at the absurdity of the upcoming question, “what are you wearing?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, glancing over the outfit you were wearing. “Does it matter?”

“Not really,” He answers truthfully, “if it helps, I’m only in my boxerw—you know those ones you like to make fun of, they’re got the bats all over them.”

You laugh at the memory, Eddie bent over in front of you during Hellfire a few months back, moving some of the boxes full of theatre costumes since the group was forced to share a room and the other kids refused to put their stuff away properly. “How cute.” You'd told him and Eddie’s face burned a deep shade of red. He didn’t say anything, only pulling his pants up higher.

It was an interesting visual, you couldn’t lie. “Uh, I’m in my underwear, too—and a, uh, shirt.”

“Which one?” He asks curiously.

“Um, Hellfire, that black one. I think it's yours, actually.” Somehow that felt like the most scandalous part about all of this, being coached through your orgasm by not only your resident dungeon master, but someone who you consider a friend, “It’s nothing crazy, sorry.”

“No, no,” Eddie interrupts quickly, “That’s fine—are you—are you touching yourself, right now?”

Eddie’s free hand is resting over his boxers, palming at his growing bulge, not as satisfying as he wants it to be.

“Yeah,” You nod without thinking, feeling ridiculous after the fact, “For a while now.”

That slow, tantalizing pace you had on your clit wasn’t helping. You clear your throat, pressing harder. “You can touch yourself, too—if you want, I mean. I won’t mind.” Your face is hot with embarrassment, but it didn’t feel fair; he should be able to enjoy it too.

Eddie can feel his dick twitch against his hand, the idea of you having already been touching yourself before he even suggested anything; not that he had planned any of this, it was completely spur of the moment, but he couldn’t help himself now. “I am,” He replies after a beat, “I’m just touching myself over my boxers—kinda sucks, though.”

“Oh,” Your voice lilts, feeling that small tinge in your gut at the sight of Eddie holding his dick in his hands—you’ve never seen it before, nothing to compare it to or imagine, but still; you were picturing it, “Well, maybe you should actually touch yourself, you know? It only seems fair.”

Eddie exhales slowly, fingers shoving under the waistband of his boxers, taking hold of himself—it’s the first time he’s touched himself all week and he was in over his head, this was a terrible idea.

“God,” He sighs, falling back against his pillow, phone tucked firmly between his shoulder and ear, tugging gently at his shaft, “do you—you have anything you think about?”

“Not really,” You lie, “I just kinda—do it.” You lie again.

Eddie laughs softly, the soft sounds of his creaking bed frame were faint, but you could still hear them. It was the only thing you could think about; Eddie spread out, hands down the front of his boxers, tugging at his dick like his life depended on it.

You circle your clit absently, finger sliding down to dip inside of you. You mewl softly, letting the sound pass through your lips.

“What about you, Eddie?” And it shocks you, realizing it’s the first time you’ve said his name since you’ve started this dangerous back and forth. It comes out broken, wrapped snugly in that blissful pleasure you were trying to reach and Eddie hears it—the curse under his breath a telltale sign that he was just as wound up as you.

“Got a lot, too much to describe—never as good as the real thing, you know,” Eddie says absently, his hand an insistent tug at his cock, swelling to full hardness in his hands. He wipes the pad of his thumb over the slit, the small bit of precum helping ease the slide down, “there’s so much you’re missing out on, princess.”

Your virginity was never a main topic of conversation and Eddie didn’t make it a big deal either, but he knows how inexperienced you are outside of your own body; he wants you to enjoy it, wants you to experience how good it can feel.

“Wanna tell me about it?” You ask innocently, the pitch of your voice picking up on a certain stroke of your finger, palm dragging against your clit.

“I can’t speak for women, but for men—it’s pretty fucking good,” He starts, occasional gasps peaking through his voice, “it’s warm and wet and really tight, sometimes when they squeeze down on us—uh, it’s good. So fucking good.” Eddie tries not to sound too crass or dirty, afraid it might scare you away.

You laugh softly, his unique way of describing things never fails to surprise you, “What’s your favorite? You like when—when girls go down on you?” It’s really just curiosity, your mind racing through a million different thoughts.

Eddie huffs out a small chuckle, stopping to—what you could only guess—spit on his hand, and that had you clenching around your own fingers. It felt primal, in a way. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good. But I, uh, like going down on a girl more—I got off once to it.”

And it shouldn't turn you on as much as it did, but goddamn if you weren't interested in hearing all about that. All common sense out of the window, you ask, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his voice still unnaturally calm, “I was younger, but it was nice—she made all these noises, pulled my hair too hard—I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but then she came while I still going down on her and it just happened.”

You sigh softly, “I’ve always wondered what it felt like,” You admit openly, “something other than my hand, it’s gotta be good, right?”

“You’ve really never done anything?” Eddie asks hesitantly—it didn’t feel judgmental, Eddie was curious; half leaning toward delirious from his sleep-deprived state.

“Never even kissed anyone, Eddie.” You say regretfully, hand stopping for a moment. “But, I’m not clueless—I’ve just never had any first hand experience.

There was a long pause, your breath catching in your throat. You can hear him on the other line, but it’s muffled. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He sounds a little breathless, “I was getting ahead of myself, had to slow down a bit—“

“Oh.” It’s small, feeble in the way you answer him.

“You still touching yourself?”

You nod again, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah—I am. I can’t focus, though—that’s been my problem all night.”

A problem that Eddie had just the remedy for.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and your answer is instant, not a single worry in your mind.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Close your eyes,” You take a small breath, letting your eyelids fall shut, “Tell me what feels the best.”

You breathe, allowing the fear of embarrassment shed from your body, losing yourself in the conversation fully. “Uh, fingers help a little—but, this is hard to do with one hand, I usually have two, that way I can cover all my bases.”

Eddie snorts at that, a smile spread across his face. “Just squeeze the phone against your shoulder,” You quickly maneuver it, shoved properly up by your ear, allowing your other hand to reach down and touch your clit properly, fingers an inconsistent rhythm as they pump into you, still, you can’t stifle the needy moan that slips out.

“Okay,” You sound shaky, “That’s—that’s a lot better.”

You feel like it’s going to be too bold of a question and Eddie would run away immediately, but you’re too fucking curious not to ask, since he was literally jerking off on the other end—it seemed like a perfectly fair question to ask.

“Do you—What do girls usually say about—you?” It was the worst way to approach the question, but Eddie isn’t too bad at realizing the context.

“Are you asking what my dick looks like?”

He couldn’t believe this shit was happening.

“Yeah, maybe.” You answer sheepishly, “Like I said, nothing to compare.”

Eddie grins, eyes scanning over his own dick briefly.

“Uh, it’s about eight inches, give or take.” He offers, “You could definitely fit both of your hands around it, if you tried.”

There’s a beat of silence, Eddie feeling like he fucked up—it slipped out, it wasn’t a suggestion; not the he didn’t want your hands around his dick, he’d be lying if he said that out loud.

You give a small noise of acknowledgment, feeling the heat coil in your stomach—surely you weren’t thinking about Eddie’s dick. But, of course you were. “Maybe we’ll have to try that out.” You say boldly, hoping that it would elicit some type of reaction from him.

“Fuck,” It definitely worked, “Yeah—yeah, maybe we could—I could even—even, go down on you, if you wanted.” He's too worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah?” You breath, followed by a small moan from the drag of your slick covered finger over your sensitive clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves impatiently. “Think I could make you come?”

“With those pretty little noises?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’m a fucking goner.”

You laugh softly, choked out by the sound of your own desperate noises, the pace on your clit picking up, fingers moving on their own accord. You can’t even focus on the fingers inside of you anymore, moving a free hand toward your breasts, still slicked fingers catching against the soft bud of your nipple.

Eddie strokes himself faster, recklessly almost. He groans so loudly into the speaker that you almost lose it, phone slipping away from your ear.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Eddie asks, hazy from the grip he had at the base of his dick, desperate to keep from coming. His entire shtick was to help you, not himself; but he was failing miserably.

“Sorry, I almost dropped the phone.”

“Oh.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his voice.

“Shut up,” You exhale, returning yourself to the task at hand; regardless of Eddie’s smugness. “Thought you were supposed to make me come, not tease me all night.”

“Help you,” He corrects, “Not make you—though, I mean—that’s not totally off the table.”

“Eddie.” You warn.

“Right—I guess it’s not hard for me,” Eddie starts again, voice thick with want and tension, “All I have to do is think about you with your hands between your legs and those tits—god, they’re probably perfect, I haven’t seen them, but I know. I know.”

It was like he’d dialed everything up to ten, not bothering to hold back any longer, the pleasure taking away any filter he had.

He was thinking about you, of course—it made sense, but it didn’t snuff the pulse that grew between your legs, only making it much, much worse. Whatever line was drawn was crossed the moment you agreed to this, all bets were off.

“Wish it was your hands instead,” You respond wantonly, the pad of your finger rubbing quick, small circles against your clit, “they’re so much bigger than mine.”

You gasp, gripping desperately at the sheets beneath you, no doubt having soaked through the cover already from how wet you were, it was unlike anything you’ve felt before—it was better.

“Forget my hands—can’t get the sight of you sinking down onto my dick out of my head,” He admits earnestly, groaning through the quick tugs on his shaft, his tip leaking with a copious amount of precum, bring his hand back down to squeeze at the base. Eddie has never edged himself like this before, it was almost painful. Almost.

“I don’t think it’ll fit, Eddie.” The moan he lets out is loud, guttural—the sound of skin against skin louder than ever through the speaker, he’s close. “Is that what you want? To be my first?”

“Fuckfuck—yeah, I do.”

You can’t even think anymore, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

“Want you to ruin me, Eddie.”

He’s past the point of trying to keep himself quiet, openly moaning through the receiver, “Fuck—say my name again, please.”

And you do; again and again, your cunt spasming underneath your hand, reaching the precipice of what you had been dying for all night, his name a plea as it cut off into a desperate moan.

“Shit—I’m so close—.” Eddie growls lowly, his high hitting him almost immediately after, coming all over his chest and his sheets in shirt spurts, tugging harshly at his dick.

He’s never come so hard in his life.

“You’ve gotten a fucking mouth on you.” He says breathlessly, on the way down from his orgasm. “Would’ve never guessed.”

You smile warmly, hand slipping out of your underwear to rest against your stomach.

“You tell anyone and you’re dead,” You chide playfully, the beautiful feeling of sleep creeping up on you, “but thank you, Eddie, seriously.”

“Always at your service, princess.”

You laugh through your nose, the realization of your actions finally settling in. It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t feel right, either—though, you couldn’t be bothered to care now; all bets were off.

“I’m holding you to that, Munson.”

Eddie shrugs on the other end, unbeknownst to you. He wiped at the mess he’d made with his shirt, tossing it to the floor lazily. “So, not a one time thing then?” He asks hopefully.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

A pause, Eddie clears his throat.

"I still want my dice, by the way."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you

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another-fic-another-planet · 3 years ago

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I’m in love with this

every single npc wants to bone her

A/N: super short, but oh boy have I had this image in my head for long...

Warnings: Eddie Munson/reader, hellfire club!reader, secret relationship, making out

Join my tag list here

Masterlist

“Okay, but like, I just feel like it’s every time,” your ears caught Gareth’s voice, immediately causing you to pull back, breathless from the heated kiss. “Every single npc wants to bone her.”

Quickly clasping a hand over Eddie’s already giggling lips, you held your breath, hoping that the rest of your dnd group wouldn’t find you, hidden around the corner like some old forgotten broom.

“Dude, it’s probably because she’s playing as a pretty elf,” Jeff suggested, as you heard the zippers of their backpacks being opened.

You both loved and hated your secret boyfriend’s shameless nature to grasp every opportunity he had to flirt dirtily with you.

Reaching his silver clad fingers up to pull your palm off his mouth, Eddie leaned in and whispered cheekily in your ear, “oh I do wanna bone the pretty elf… I really really do…”

Blurb tag list: @givemeth @kbakery @scoopsahoykeery @cupidsclarity @ah-blossom @kazeddie85 @nia-um @hotchandspencearedilfs

Sfw blurb tag list: @evaareids

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics #so true bestie

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another-fic-another-planet · 3 years ago

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I love nothing more than a bit of Eddie teaching people what to do 😌

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]

warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie kneels outside his trailer.

You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks.

"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"

You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat.

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.

Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up.

"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly.

He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite."

Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray."

"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!"

"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder.

He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily.

You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory.

"How much did you want?" he asks.

The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is."

"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously.

You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place.

He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow.

He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?"

"Woah."

"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent.

You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water.

You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?"

"For you? Half."

"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else."

"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer."

"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?"

He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder.

Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty.

"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty."

His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?"

"I don't know. To make money?"

He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.

"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.

"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?"

You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you.

"What movie?"

"Whatever you want."

You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?"

"Sure will."

So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud.

He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.

"I'm sleeping."

"After toking up."

"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do."

"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?"

You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner.

"Like what?" you ask.

"Cranking one out, for starters."

You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"

"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.

"Not my thing," you murmur.

It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty.

"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."

"Bad teeth?"

"Smoking ruins your pearls."

You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking?

I'm only asking, you decide.

"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-"

"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?"

His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right."

He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log."

"That works for you?" you ask tentatively.

"Every night."

You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat.

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.

He blinks. "Finish?"

You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah."

"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?"

You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option."

"Shit," he mutters.

"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-"

Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips.

"You don't know how?" he asks.

"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath.

"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you."

"Are you sure?"

"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile.

Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge.

You struggle to know what to ask.

The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back.

And now you're alone with him.

"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson."

"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.

You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so."

He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?"

You cringe. Full body.

Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it."

"I know what it is."

"And you can't make yourself-"

"No."

He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process."

"How do you know?" you ask genuinely.

His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen."

Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face.

"And I'm a damn good listener."

You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge.

He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him.

"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly.

A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?"

"No."

He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?"

The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too.

A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"

"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself.

Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms.

You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make.

Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders.

"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile.

You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?"

"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand.

He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully.

"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."

"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts.

"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool."

"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet.

“If you change your mind at any point-“

“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together.

Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips.

They linger.

He blinks and it’s gone.

“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”

As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.

Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses.

“‘Kay,” you whisper.

His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear.

“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to.

“By what?”

“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”

“You’ve pictured them?”

He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs.

You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster.

"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks.

"I'm never this nice."

"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"

"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.

"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do."

"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing.

Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.

His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away.

"Didn't like that?" he asks.

You rush, "It's okay. Surprised."

One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it.

He pinches your panties.

"Ready to take them off?" he asks.

"Yeah."

You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure.

Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore.

"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.

"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside.

His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast.

You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum.

"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?"

He hums. "Touch yourself."

You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.

"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck."

His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?"

You put your hand into his, the back to his palm.

He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh.

Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies.

Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin.

"I haven't tried in a while."

"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the squishy bead, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.

"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with."

You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit.

Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense.

It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement.

You push a second finger against the first.

Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused.

"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes.

Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working."

"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want."

"What I want?"

"What turns you on."

You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail.

His voice. Good girl.

You slam your eyes shut.

Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-"

You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud.

He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder.

"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core.

The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder.

You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it.

Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place.

There's something very hard digging into your spine.

"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.

"That sound about right?"

You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh."

Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.

And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about.

"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths.

"No? You don't want it gentle?"

"Not- not all the time."

"How about right now?"

"Please."

Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you-

"Fuck," you whimper.

His cock jumps. You feel it.

"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart."

You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it.

"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy."

You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound.

"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?"

"Yeah, Eddie."

"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it."

You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs.

"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?"

You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap.

"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving."

You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes," you pant.

He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds.

"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says.

Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean."

"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?"

You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears.

"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.

You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.

"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.

"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me."

You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story

He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?"

Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.

He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay.

You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago.

Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words.

"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs.

He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when?

You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still.

"You okay?"

After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.

His face is close.

Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly.

He pulls you into him. You close your eyes.

Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.

Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands.

You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you.

He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest.

You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again.

He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?"

You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics.

He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively.

You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently.

Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one.

He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?"

"I've always liked that one."

He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness.

You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt.

"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty.

His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. .

"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining.

"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.

He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss.

His hands are everywhere.

Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance.

"Is it too much?" he asks.

"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands.

"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?"

You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…"

"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I have this fantasy," you begin.

Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful.

"Tell me about it."

"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this."

"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.

"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-"

"Tasteful."

"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me."

Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?"

"Like this."

"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?"

"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…"

"What do I do, sweetheart?"

"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.

He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?"

"Not at first."

There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod.

"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?"

He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh.

"Eventually," you agree.

His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?"

You nod voraciously.

He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words."

"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation.

"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up.

"I will," you say earnestly.

Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.

You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion.

"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure.

You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself.

Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?"

You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep."

"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?"

You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it."

"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to.

He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit.

This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours.

"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you.

He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?"

You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck.

"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you.

You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking.

He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him.

You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side.

Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs.

He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him.

"You smell good," he says into your skin.

Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this.

He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."

You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours.

You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.

You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do.

Eddie breaks the kiss.

"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly.

He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant."

Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump.

Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again.

Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out.

"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane."

As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus.

"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering.

You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours.

He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it.

"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting.

You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl."

You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference.

"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much."

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?"

"Better," you say sincerely.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.

You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it."

Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head.

Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally.

He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question.

"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing."

"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.

"Yeah."

You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed.

You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up.

You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his.

He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"

"I made you cum."

His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second."

You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart.

His hand comes to rest on your forehead.

"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer.

"Every night."

You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back.

Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time."

"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?"

You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness.

"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens.

"I never said I was creative."

"What happens after that?"

"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body."

He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot.

"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously.

"I don't know! The window?"

"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?"

"Well, I told you that part."

"Right, we hook up, but after that."

You clench your fists, insecure. "After?"

He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth.

"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually.

"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?"

"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.

His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips.

Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair.

He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over.

"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?"

"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own.

You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back.

Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse.

"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.

Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it."

He smirks. "I bet you will."

Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.

"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another.

Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot.

"Eddie-"

"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening."

You take one step up. "Your girl?"

He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be."

You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real.

You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.

"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it."

You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.

He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl."

You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!"

After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

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#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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another-fic-another-planet · 3 years ago

Text

just like in the movies

steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: yours and steve’s friends with benefits situation becomes a whole lot clearer. alternatively, steve promises to fuck you until you realize just how much he loves you.

a/n: *gif isn’t mine, it’s from pinterest* this. THIS IS THE ULTRA SMUTTY SHIT I WAS TALKING ABOUT. WHEN I GOT THIS IDEA I STARTED SWEATING BUCKETS CAUSE HOLY FUCK. ONE OF THE SMUTTIEST THINGS IVE EVER WRITTEN (I listened to a lot of the weeknd, so I’m not surprised).

warnings: +18 content, SMUT CITY, minors dni; unprotected p in v; use of 80s sex toys (steve bought her a vibrator); jealous!steve/romantic!steve/dom!steve; size kink (steve has a monster schlong); hair pulling kink; biting; overstimulation; praise kink; boob play; masturbation; dirty talk to the fucking MAX (steve calls her a slut); mentions of multiple orgasms; use of different positions; rough sex; oral sex f receiving (cum eating); steve’s breeding kink; mentions of porno movies (this is also prolly the plot of a porno honestly 🙃) lil’ bit of fluff

word count: 7.1k (of pure smut babyy)

main m.list | steve harrington m.list

part one (can also be read on its own)

•••

To say you were unsatisfied would be an understatement.

The understatement of the goddamn century.

An hour ago you drove to Rick’s house, where he proceeded to have sex with you, only to cum within the first five minutes of hardly-there foreplay. You hadn’t even realized he finished until he was shuddering into the condom, stroking your hair as though you were a prized possession. A sex toy to let out his lack of stamina on. You had pretended to cum while he was still lost in his high, hoping that you wouldn’t have to deal with the eventual lecture of how it was ‘you’re fault’ that you were ‘too tense’.

Rick wasn’t your first rodeo for guys like that, but part of you hoped it would be different for your first time. That he would be different. He would be caring and attentive and make sure you came first.

You hoped he’d be like Steve.

You hoped that he’d kiss your knuckles and rest his face in your neck as he came. You hoped that he would’ve mumbled praise after praise in your ear as he slowly brought you to that edge before tossing you off with a bite on your collarbone.

Or…

You hoped that he would’ve at least, lasted longer than twenty fucking minutes.

But no. The little shit didn’t even give you a chance to build up your arousal whatsoever. Not even to the point where you would at least be able to finish in the safety of his bathroom.

Thinking back on it, you’re not even too sure he realized you had faked it. That the shitty, high-pitched moan you let out was false, and that he wasn’t in fact ‘giving it to you’, regardless of how many times he mumbled that above you.

The entire thing was stupid. Silly and irreparable and downright annoying.

Because an hour ago you left to go have what was supposed to be really good sex.

And a half hour ago you came home to sit on an empty couch, in your empty house—extremely horny and far hungrier for something that wasn’t microwave mac n’ cheese.

You needed to be fucked. Properly, until you were drooling and unable to speak.

So really, without a second thought, you left your dinner plate on the kitchen counter with your keys still stuffed in your pocket and a new sense of determination.

•

The drive to Steve’s apartment was familiar. A second nature route that guided you from one end of town to the next, up the stairs of his apartment and to number 38. What wasn’t familiar though was the locked front door.

Regardless of the monstrosities—the mind flayer, the bad men, Billy—Hawkins, Indiana was still Hawkins, Indiana. A boring small town in the middle of nowhere full of endless country dried up plains and empty streets.

This meant that other than hicks, and the occasional sense of the end of the world, there was nothing to even be remotely afraid of. And really, nothing that would warrant your friend to lock his door: something he has never once done in all of the years you’ve known him.

There’s a part of your mind that prickles with nerves.

So you knock.

It’s loud and curt and would leave enough room for you to hear the sounds of padding feet. Or any sign of life for that matter. So you wait. You wait for one, two, nearly four minutes and yet you hear nothing.

So you knock again, only to be met with dead silence again.

You go to knock for the third time, but then your ears pick up on a whimper. A low sob which is hardly discernible until it’s accompanied by a crackle of television and a creak of the floor. Putting your ear to the door, you concentrate on trying to pick up on any other sound you can.

But after nothing happens, you choose to dig through your pockets until you come across the spare key he gave you.

Pushing it in, you slowly turn the lock until you hear a soft click and the door falls open. His apartment is dark. Pitch black, with the only semblance of light coming in from the thick curtains covering the living room window.

“Steve?”

Quiet.

“Steve?”

The agitation that tickles you at the back of your neck morphs into fear. Because Steve is usually a light sleeper. One of the lightest sleepers you know, easily woken up by something as soft as the sound of rain. So with no response and a locked door, your heart jumps at the possibility of something horrible.

Gone is the thought of your needy arousal. Now you worry about your friend's life and what you’ll find when you come across his body.

If you come across his body.

You’ve had nightmares like this. All eerily similar to the current events playing out. It all begins like this with you walking through his kitchen and down the main hall, only to end in the worst.

The bedroom door is closed, having been forced shut without any lock on it. The air surrounding you—frigid and nail-biting—feels like death. Completely lifeless other than the light of the tv bleeding out from under the door.

The faint sounds come back, but as hard as you try to listen, you can’t make them out at all. And though that still concerns you, it doesn’t deter you. Everything acts like a magnet, drawing you closer to the source of the noise and the end of the mystery that causes your heart to slam against your ribs.

Your hand grabs ahold of the doorknob and as you open the door slowly, you start to realize what exactly you’re hearing.

And what you’re seeing.

Through the small space, you can see…a movie. It takes you a second to understand what you’re seeing, but when it finally clicks, you can’t help but feel flushed. There are flashing images of a woman bouncing on what looks like a guy dressed in a pizza delivery costume. Over-exaggerated echoey moans are then met with softer noises. Ones that sound as though they’re coming from right beside you. Instinctually you look to your left, only to find Steve in a compromising position. He’s lying on his bed in the corner of the room, spread eagle, pants by his ankles and cock in his fist.

His hand is tight around his length, pumping quick and hard as his hairy thighs flail around. His head is flat on the pillow, jaw wide open as he mumbles incoherently, twitching every time his thumb runs over his tip.

You gulp at the sight, legs tightening together both at the perversion of watching him and in hope of bringing some sort of relief.

He looks beautiful like this.

Granted, Steve Harrington is always beautiful. Pretty beyond words. Soft hair and honey eyes and strong hands covered in moles and freckles and the evidence of a life lived.

He’s like a deity. A demi-god of sorts, like the kind you learned about in your junior year ancient history class. Hercules and Perseus. Man and god, divine and mundane.

Beautiful and otherworldly.

You can tell he’s close, chest rising in shallow puffs of stunted air. His fingers tighten against himself; squeezing the base and dragging upward, only to repeat the motion again even faster.

You shouldn’t be watching this.

But you can’t look away.

“Steve?”

You scare him shitless. He jumps, nearly ten feet off the bed only to flop on his stomach and onto the ground. He seemingly disappears, the only thing visible of him being a hand that frantically searches for the remote.

“Jesus fucking Christ, —!” He shuffles around on the ground for a bit, yanking on his pants as he grabs a pillow and covers his hard-on. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you turn on the bedside lamp closest to you, yellow light warming up the room as your eyes readjust. “I—I thought you were hurt!” You stutter.

“Hurt? What do you mean hurt?”

Huffing, you force yourself to keep looking at him and not the incredibly dirty image paused on the tv screen. “Your door was locked.”

His eyes widen. “…what?”

“Your door was locked, Steve, your doors never locked. I was worried.”

“So?” He yelps, taking the remote and permanently turning the tv off. A red flush deepens across his face, swirling down his neck and blooming beneath the collar of his shirt. “You don’t just walk into someone’s house when their door is locked.”

“You gave me a key, and you didn’t respond when I called out for you.” You roll your eyes, averting your gaze to the floor as embarrassment starts to take over. “How the fuck was I supposed to know you were jacking off?”

Groaning, Steve falls backward into the bed, hands flying up to cover his eyes. Shaking his head, his palms dig into his eye sockets. “Gross, don’t say that—“

“What? Jacking off?!”

“Yes, it’s—it’s just—“

“That’s what you were doing!”

“It’s my home!” He whines, looking away to continue avoiding you. “If I want to jack off with my door locked then that’s what I’ll fucking do!”

You blink at him in bewilderment, anxiety running you both to the ground as you try to ignore the other. With a long sigh, Steve crosses his arms and blinks up at the ceiling, giving way to the silent dance you both are partaking in. It isn’t until he’s running a large hand through his sweaty hair, that he exhales deeply. “What are you doing here anyway? …Thought you were out with Dick.”

“Rick,” you correct.

“Same difference.”

“It’s really not,” you snap. Wringing your hands out, you lean against the wall, jitters running up your arms as the tension in the air slowly begins to disperse. You feel incredibly exposed, the memory of why you’re actually here coming back to the forefront of your mind. Shaking your head, you bit at your cheek. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter now ‘cause it didn’t end well. Probably won’t see him anymore.”

If Steve has any reaction, any thoughts or comments or feelings on the matter, you don’t see them. His expression is unreadable. “Is—did he do something wrong?” He finally says.

You laugh. A half-hearted chuckle as you fall onto the edge of the bed, much like you’ve done a million times before. “It’s more like what didn’t he do.” He doesn’t respond, but his gaze does shift over to you. He waits for you to continue; eyes imploring you to do so while he sits there. Groaning, you lie down beside him. “Well I went there to y’know…we were going to…anyway… We’re doing it, right? Like we’re getting ready and then—then he ends up coming like the second he puts on the fucking condom.”

“…Jesus.”

“Right?” You grit your teeth at the memory. All the frustration from earlier bubbles over into word vomit; things you weren’t exactly planning on telling Steve but can no longer stop from escaping. The proverbial cracking dam. “And then, oh, and then the fucking kicker! When he’s done pretty much fucking himself, he has the audacity to ask me if I came. Ya know the whole—“ you lower your voice with a cough. “‘Was it as good for you as it was for me?’ type bullshit.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Steve's grimace. “Gross.”

“Ugh, I know!” You cry, squirming in your spot on the mattress. “Like shit, I didn’t even want to go over, but I was lonely and…and I guess I thought that maybe it would be different?” You let out a sigh, an exasperated sound as you stretch your body out. “But Jesus, if I knew what I know now I wouldn’t have even wasted the fucking time.”

The two of you sit in silence again; shoulders touching with your fingers dangerously close to intertwining with the other. There’s a different kind of strain on the situation—a different feeling that graces both of your equally frustrated selves.

Steve still holds the pillow over his crotch, fingers digging into the corner of it every time he shifts his hips; a gesture that you’re intensely aware of and acutely turned on by.

Except you reason that maybe you lost the moment.

Maybe you imagined too much for tonight, and you jeopardized everything.

Your original purpose for being here was lost to time, mixed up in enough confusion and shock to shadow your moody arousal. And now, you’re just sad. A painfully lonely person who’s just beginning to realize how painfully lonely they are. Pathetic to the point where you have to go to your friend to try and get your rocks off, only for him to not want you either.

You don’t even try to stick around to ask him if he wants you.

Part of you thinks maybe he fell asleep, but then he stirs as you get up and stride toward the door. “Where are you going?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you tug at the wrinkles in your shirt. “I’m sorry, I—I just wanted to talk. But I…I should go home.”

Steve’s hand wraps around your forearm pulling you towards him. He doesn’t say anything, though, with the way he strokes circles into your elbow, you consider that he doesn’t have to. “Why are you here, —?”

“I told you,” you sigh. “I was lonely. I just—I needed to talk. But we talked and you’re…you’re clearly busy, so it’s okay. It’s okay, Steve, I’ll see you tomor—“

“Are you still lonely?”

The even pace of your heartbeat stutters. “What?”

He gulps then, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes squint together. There’s something he’s concentrating on or something he’s holding himself back from. You can’t exactly tell. But you can see that it’s bothering him. That whatever he’s thinking is especially troublesome as it hangs in the balance between you. “Are you still lonely?” You frown.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ste—“

“Cause I think you are.” He mumbles, pulling your hand closer to his face, twisting and turning it delicately in his grasp as he inspects you. “I think you need the company, sweetheart.” He places a butterfly kiss on the main vein on the inside of your wrist. “And I also think you need a good fucking orgasm.”

Oh.

The pit of your stomach opens wide at his words. A gaping hole that plummets with the fire of his touch, with the way his hair falls in his face, and with the way he looks at you.

He looks at you like you’re everything. Like you don’t really exist, and you’re nothing but a mirage.

One that is only tailored to him.

You’re still when he stands up, not even moving when his hands come up to your shoulders and his mouth lands on your cupid’s bow. You softly exhale. “…And not just from some rich douchebag…” his knuckles stroke your forehead, face’s already slanting together—an assumed position as your body complies with him. “You need to be fucked by someone who cares, honey.”

You roll your eyes and grumble, a surge of confidence washing over you. “Like who? …like you?”

He smirks at your quip, at your ability to bite back even in the heat of the moment. Pressing his lips to your mouth, he hums. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Kissing him back, your hands smooth over his chest, down his stomach and to the edge of his Henley. You’re already breathless, having all the air in your lungs been kissed away in a matter of seconds. He has you against the wall, making a mess of your mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Well then show me…” you nip at his upper lip and sigh into him, taking the time to breathe and examine the solemn look on his face. “Show me how much you care.”

You don’t even need to ask him twice.

Instantly, Steve undresses, guiding you to the bed with wandering pesky fingers tugging at the hem of your own shirt.

His mouth is everywhere, bruising kisses searing into every span of skin; every body part revealed as he removes your clothes piece by piece. Slow. Tantalizing. A mix of having intense control over himself, and none at all.

As though he can’t make up his mind when it comes to you.

His lips are wet, red and raw as they glide over your chin, down your neck and to your collarbone, only to mouth at the flesh above your bra.

Wherever his mouth isn’t, his hands are.

One palm lays flat against your knee, forcing them apart so that way he can nestle between your thighs, legs dangling precariously off the bed. He kisses you like his life depends on it, going back and forth between your face and your chest as he moves the strap of your bra down your arm.

Holding your jaw in place, he squeezes your cheeks until your mouth is wide enough for him to jam his tongue into. His kisses are filthy, frenzied and passionate, yet slow and steady all the same. He’s doing everything and nothing as he works you. The slow start-up of an engine. Preparation for a long fucking night.

Your tongues battle for dominance as your hands card through his hair, holding him in place as you begin your own assault on his lips. Tugging on his head by his roots, he moans loudly before jutting his hips into yours. Pulling away, your spit covers his lips only to be smeared along your neck as he sucks a bruise right below your ear. “You’re so fucking pretty, ya know that? That guy doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Your heart thrums at his words. At the angsty confession that sounds a lot like what you’ve been wanting to hear, yet being nothing of the sort.

Contrary to popular belief—to the rumours spread through the halls of Hawkins High and what you’ve overheard from a string of dates leaving Family Video—Steve Harrington is a romantic at heart. And part of you has always known that. Has always assumed his hidden desire to have someone need him as much as he needs them. You could see it everywhere you went; in the longing looks he’s sent to couples walking out and about, to Nancy and Johnathon when they get so easily wrapped up in each other on movie night.

The girls that left him all complained to you and Robin about him being ‘preoccupied’; too caught up in the idea of love to appreciate what was actually in front of him. Apparently, too caught up in the idea of another person to truly care about them.

The notion always seemed silly to you. The idea that Steve couldn’t and wouldn’t give his hundred-and-ten percent to the person he was with, when he oh-so-desperately wanted them. It was stupid. Entirely blind on their part to not see how incredibly devoted your friend could be.

And that was never more the case than when you actually started hooking up with him.

It was a random night, one where you both were lonely and a little too pent up to handle yourselves, that you decided on it. At the time it seemed like the easiest thing in the world. Something you could move forward with, without any fears or doubts or worries.

Steve made you feel safe. And somehow, someway that fact only increased whenever you had sex. There was a point, in which Steve had gone down on you for the first time, subsequently pulling two orgasms from you in a matter of minutes, that you realized you would never feel more protected than with him.

It was a daunting thing when you finally decided to become friends with benefits. Part of you knew from the get-go it would ruin your perceptions of other people. But the other part couldn’t be bothered at all, especially not when you entertained yourself. Because you dreamt about it sometimes. You dreamt of another world where you and Steve had no boundaries, where you were free to be as you were, free to be with each other in every way as you wanted.

Your body freezes at that.

Steve hasn’t noticed, too caught up in suckling at your left nipple while his thumb and index finger roll your right one around. Your bra is long gone, discarded to the floor along with both of your shirts.

Your mind, which had been empty other than mulling over your thoughts on the man biting at your breast, has now drifted to the realization.

Did you want Steve like that?

The question sits on your tongue; tasting of burnt ash and trepidation as your eyes roam over his body. He’s crooning into your skin, hips rolling with every whine, rutting his hardened length into your still fully clothed core. The moon shines on his back, tracing over the muscles rippling beneath the skin, veins growing taut in his forearms as he holds your body still.

You love him.

And it’s not necessarily an astonishing conclusion. If anything, there hadn’t been a point in time where you’ve looked at Steve and hadn’t felt immense love. Because knowing him and not being hopelessly in love with him was impossible.

This was Steve after all. Your Steve.

The one who fights for his friends and loves aimlessly and has a big heart that begs to be nurtured because he’s never had that. He’s the one who cares for Dustin—his friend and his brother. He’s a shoulder to cry on and a lover and a fighter.

But most importantly, he’s quite possibly the love of your life.

You don’t realize he’s stopped until you catch him blinking at you. His thumb which had come up to your cheek, runs along your cheekbone and wipes at your temple in the most tender of ways. “Everythin’ okay?”

You want to say it. You want to tell him everything you’ve just realized. Every conclusion and emotion and thought that he incurs in you. You want to tell him that you see him. That you love him. That you want him and need him in ways he may never understand.

Because with the way his hips jerk forward, practically dry humping you as he looks up at you with the biggest doe eyes—innocence and erotica all rolled into one—you realize you may not be able to control yourself. You need him to fuck you, but you also need him to know how loved he really is.

So you tell him.

“I love you.” He halts, lifting off of you slightly in a daze. He looks you dead in the eye, disbelief and shock shrouding his features. Offering him a lazy smile, you choose to let go of everything. “I love you so goddamn much, Steve.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he shakes beneath you. His breathing is shallow, fingers nervously trembling against your sides. For a second, you worry that he doesn’t feel the same. Mistaking his silence for disinterest, you begin to shuffle up the bed, worrying that this was it. That in moments you had fucked everything over.

“Holy shit, —.” He mumbles, fully sitting back on his knees. His gaze doesn’t meet yours, but it never leaves your body. You can’t tell if he’s happy or upset or scared, and the feeling eats away at you. “…You can’t…you can’t say shit like that, sweetheart.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, throat closing up in impeding sobs. “I’m sorr—“

“You can’t…” letting out a groan, Steve crawls back up your body, caging you in between his broad shoulders and the bed. You can see his eyes now, the way he stares you down and the way something darker floods his irises. Though, his expression is the all-too-familiar look he always seems to give you. Leaning down, his lips curl around the edge of your ear, hot breath invading your senses. You take note of how he smells of citrus and mousse, how nice the concoction is as he lets out another shaky breath. “You can’t say stuff like that and not expect me to fuck the shit out of you.”

…Well, fuck…

“I mean…” Steve hops off the bed after planting a kiss on your forehead and walks to his closet. He talks to you as he rummages through his things, determined to find the exact thing he’s looking for. “I mean you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, baby.” Taking a box from the top shelf he walks it over to you and places it on the nightstand. Then, with just as much ease as before, he swoops down and captures your mouth in another mind-numbing kiss. Except this time, there’s an added urgency behind it. One he’s never had before. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this.”

While nipping at your chin, he opens the box and pulls out a small and colourful cylindrical object. It’s pale purple with a series of buttons on the bottom of it. You frown once you see it.

“Stevie, what’s that?”

He can’t control the wolfish grin spreading across his face. Nuzzling further into your throat, he sucks and licks and bites until you’re too distracted by your own sighs. “It’s um…it’s my surprise for you, honey. Got it the other day. Saw it and immediately thought of you.”

“What…” another breathy moan as he bucks into you. “What does it do?”

Clicking his tongue, he gropes your boob, massaging the tender flesh. “Something fun,” is his only reply.

Placing it beside your head, he leans back and begins to unbutton your pants. You stiffen a bit, as he works wordlessly to relieve you of your other clothes. Your interest only seems to spur him on, make him work quicker as he pushes you down flat to the bed. There’s a sudden string of melodies that escape then, as though he’s fucking singing to himself. Content and relaxed as he pulls your jeans down your legs.

You think it’s Wham!, maybe Careless Whisper if you tried to listen hard enough. But you can’t particularly focus when he looks up to you and beams like that. Evident excitement making his body stretch upward and his dick twitch in the tent of his pants. “God, you’re gonna love this, baby. Need you to relax though. M’promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Whining, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to your level. “Why don’t you just fuck me already, Harrington?”

“Patience is a virtue, babe.” Grabbing the device he presses the button, triggering a high whirring sound to emanate from it. “Besides, gotta loosen you up first.”

And with that, he presses the head of the object to your cunt, reeling in the way your eyes widen and your jaw falls slack.

The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It isn’t the comforting feeling of your fingers gliding over you or of Steve’s tongue flicking at your hood. Instead it’s a steady vibration that rumbles your entire body, catching your arousal in its grasp instantaneously.

There’s a sharp gasp lodged in your throat, fighting to be released as you grapple for oxygen. Steve’s body still hangs over you, eyes transfixed on the way your face contorts with every movement he controls.

Sometimes when he flicks his wrist, moving the massaging head of the device to your already fluttering hole, you let out a long strangled moan. But the other times, when he presses the device right into your clit while his mouth wraps around your nipple and his other hand massages your lower belly, you can’t help but whine repeatedly.

Your thighs have begun to quiver as he slowly increases the pace of the object (which you didn’t even think was possible to begin with). Your hand flies to his shoulder, nails digging into the muscle as your head falls back.

“You like that, honey?” Steve growls into your chest as he hitches one of your legs over his hip. “‘Course you do. My little slut likes anything I give her, don’t you?”

You nod erratically, back aching as he presses the beating device harder into you. “Just…oh my god, Steve, please, I…”

“Look at you… Can’t even fucking talk, you feel so good.” A broad hands runs down the expanse of your stomach, running over your hip before slightly smacking the curve of your ass. You fly forward, sitting up completely as you try to trap his hand in between your thighs. “Told you this would be fun.”

You cry out, heart pounding against his as you press your breasts into his chest. “Stevie, please. Wanna cum so bad.”

He chuckles, resting his chin on the top of your head as his hand continues it’s descent down your body. “I know, baby, I know.” His knuckles circle your entrance before two thick fingers jam themselves into you.

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you whimper as you bite at the tendon in his neck. Your toes curl in tandem with the fingers he moves along your walls, continuously hitting that sweet spot within you.

“Come on, baby, come for me… Come on.”

Your orgasm slams into you at what seems like new heights. Gripping his body tightly, you arch into him body rocking on the device with every wave of your high. Coming and going, back and forth until your knuckles are white and sweat lines your back and the sheets beneath you.

You shake violently in his arms, heavy pants racking your chest as dizziness clouds your mind. Your gaze stays stuck on the ceiling as you try to come to, your own feeble attempt to ground yourself. You feel the bed dip as rough hands smooth over the bones in your hips, rubbing small, tight circles in the skin above your mound. “That was—that was good, baby. Did so good for me.” His voice draws you back to reality, your gaze drifting around the room to find his. He peeks over your body, messy hair and hooded eyes that darken as he stares ahead.

Your hand—which feels limp hanging in midair—flies to his skull, gripping the roots of his hair and tugging him forward. “Steve, I…I want you to…please, want your cock.”

“Mhm,” he inhales the scent of you, nose just hitting your swollen clit. “And I want this pretty pussy of yours.” Deep brown eyes flash up to you, a powerful sneer morphing the lines of his mouth. “Good girls wait their fucking turn.”

Your head lolls back the second he begins to lap at your core. A shrill sound, something close to a cry but still not quite, escapes you. He mouths at the space between your clit and your hole, groaning into your folds as he adjusts his grip on your legs.

A puff of hot air hits you, spine trembling as his lips tug at your hood. “Oh my—fuck, Steve. Steve, please—“

“Please, what? I’m doing what you asked, pretty girl.” Another lick—a smooth and slow flat press of his tongue. “I’m fucking you like you deserve, so just…” he groans, removing himself from you before spitting on your cunt and diving back in. “Just. Fucking. Take it.”

Dammit, this man was going to be the fucking death of you.

He eats you out like he’s starved. Like he’s been locked away for days, weeks—shit, years—and is just finally getting access to a good meal. A bountiful feast, all for him and only him.

His stubble burns you as you jump his face, gnawing at the inside of your cunt and thighs until they’re raw. The pressure builds yet again, deep within your gut and permeating your bones. You hold him there, smothering him entirely as he either gulps for air, or for more of you. Regardless, he’s tasting every inch of you and soon he’s sucking at you even faster.

“Ste—Steve, just—oh my god, right there. Right there, please, please, please!”

Your second orgasm slaughters you where you lie. The pleasure is blinding, almost intangible as you ride his mouth. An endless slew of moans and sharp intakes of breath accompany your convulsing body. Somehow he’s still breathing, still soldiering on as he eats up everything you have to offer him.

It’s incredibly dirty. Raw and pornographic. A purely sleazy sight of him enjoying himself on the orgasm he just pulled from you.

Eventually he lets go of you, leaning up on his forearms and wiping away at the dripping cum on his chin.

He licks his lips then, a free hand trailing up to his messy hair and pushing it out of the way. Steve licks his lips, like a murderous predator eyeing its next prey; toying with its meal as it rolls in delight. “You taste,” he sucks yet another hickey into your breast. “So good.” He moans out the words, rolling his bare hips into you. He’s completely naked now, having taken off his pyjama pants sometime between unfurling his fingers in you and latching his mouth to your clit. He completely engulfs you, member sliding between your slick folds; twitching at the wonderful tension he’s been building. The friction is unbearable, deliciously combining with the taste of yourself on his tongue.

He kisses your mouth in the same way he kissed your cunt. Slow and lazy, an attempt to devour you whole.

“I love you so fucking much, y’know that?” Taking your hand he kisses each finger, your palm, the back of your hand and then your knuckles. “Loved you for a long time. A long, long time.”

You sigh into his chest, tears of relief burning at the corners of your eyes. There’s a gaping feeling within you, deep in the pit of your belly that carnally craves him. Despite already having had two orgasms, you’re hungry for another; for whatever he’ll give you.

You want his cock, want to feel him fill you to the point where you’re breaking in half. You need to feel the burn in your pelvis and the cured ache in your core.

You need him.

So, so fucking bad.

“Want you,” you grumble. Your throat is hoarse, pained from all the whines and the screaming and the moans of pleasure. You’re clawing at him, yanking and pulling at his limbs until he’s impossibly close. “Please, please, please, want you.”

Steve is unfazed as he keeps kissing you. Nearly every spot on your body is touched by his mouth, caressed by his tongue and bit by his teeth. Somehow, as much as he’s been grinding into you, as much as you can tell he wants to fuck your abused hole, he controls himself.

Tapping on your nose with feather-light touches, he gently kisses your eyelids. “Want what? Gotta use your words if you want my cock, baby.” Pumping himself above your stomach, he presses the underside of his dick along your belly and drags it, right above the spot where you want him most. “You want my cock, hm? Want me to fill you up like the good little slut you are?”

You don’t even nod. Instead, you just widen your legs and open up to him even more, pouting as you blink at him. “Want your cock so bad, Stevie. Wanna be yours. Please, please give me…just, fuck me hard.”

Smirking, he runs a hand up and down your thigh. “Are you mine?”

Your feel your face contort, confusion twisting your features as you gasp for air. And though you’re partially confused, a little curious and a little too far gone to fully understand his request, you simply smile.

“Yes. Yours. All yours.”

Steve growls, actually growls before taking two fistfuls of your hips and flipping you over onto your stomach. “Up, pretty girl,” he gestures to your lower back.

You do as he says, unable to stifle the smile of elation as he manhandles you. Pressing your head into the pillow, you push your hips up only to feel him directly behind you. His hand rests on the globe of your ass, tenderly stroking the curve of your spine as he gets you into position. He’s up on his knees, adjusting himself to fit your slit as he pulls you back into him.

“Wanna know what I was thinking about before you caught me earlier?”

You groan. “Jesus Christ, Steve, just shut up and fuck me already.”

He laughs, then lays a smack on your bum before shoving the fat head of his dick into you. Crying out you fall forward, frantic to feel him further. “You need to learn to stop being so impatient, —.” Pushing himself by another inch, he stops and stays there. Him stretching you out is a torturous event, one that pains you as your hands ball up the sheets. “Anyways, as I was saying…” his hand smooths down your back and to your neck, holding you in place by the nape. “I was thinking about this. ‘Bout you underneath me.” He kisses you in between your shoulders. “…Was thinking about fucking you from behind… Like this.”

With those words he slams into you, the tip of him hitting your cervix while his hips remain flush with yours.

You gasp, inhaling the smell of sweat and sex as you shake around him. “Oh my god, Steve, I—holy, fuck, that’s good, feel so good. Fucking me so good, Stevie.”

He takes a minute to breathe, to collect himself before completely bottoming out and shoving back in. Your walls clench around him, the heavy drag of his length making you shiver as he starts off at a slow pace.

Steve’s always been big. You had assumed as such from the rumours spread around school that there was something a little extra special about Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington. But it wasn’t until when you first had sex with him when he had rid himself of his pants and stood before you entirely nude that you realized that he definitely had something to show for it.

At first, you were nervous, weren’t entirely too sure that you could take him in the way you wanted so much.

But then when he finally entered you for the first time, and every other time after that, you came to the conclusion that you wouldn’t want anything—or anyone—else.

He stretches you out perfectly. An amazing fit that only increases every time you feel his bulge in your lower abdomen. “Faster.” You pant. “Harder, fuck, harder.”

His hand fully circles your neck, gently pulling you back with just enough pressure to make you see stars. The harsh snap of his hips sends you spiralling, obscenities spilling out of you as your third orgasm comes and goes. It all happens so quickly, to the point where you can’t even process the fact that you came yet again.

And although it feels good—fucking great, even—it’s still not enough.

You’re incredibly sensitive, eyes rolling into the back of your skull with every thrust. The sound of balls slapping against your ass fill the air, a medley of noises—just like the ones coming from the tv earlier—keying you higher and higher.

“Christ, you feel so good, honey. So good… I’m so fucking in love with you.” Another thrust rattles your body. Your bones are weak, muscles so sore that you can’t even keep yourself up. And Steve can tell, has half a mind to help you out.

Hooking one arm around your stomach, and with the other still, on your neck, he pulls you up into his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his thighs as he bounces you up and down on his dick. His back is pressed tightly to you, allowing you to hook your arm around his neck until his chin hangs over your shoulder. “Steve…Steve, I’m gonna cum. Fucking me so good, so, so, so good.”

He roughly kisses the side of your face, mouth hanging wide open on your cheekbone. “I know, baby, I know… No one fucks you this good, huh? No one—no one makes you cum on their dick like I do.”

“Oh…ohmygod, ohmygod. No, no one fucks me like you do, Steve. Please. Please, fuckfuckfuck.”

Pushing his hand into your abdomen, he holds you in place as he spears into you. Fire, an aching burning passion, licks at the base of your spine as heat pools in the knot of your belly. It feels so good it hurts; so numbing that you can’t do anything but sit and wait for your climax to crash over you. Because, painfully, you’re right on the edge. Steve strains behind you. “Gonna’ cum too, baby. Gonna fill you up, fill you up until I’m fucking spilling out of you.”

You’re babbling into the air as your head falls backward. With your eyes screwed shut, your hand falls to Steve’s knee while a fourth orgasm rips through you. You scream at the feeling of him annihilating your insides and sending you into orbit. It’s almost like you’re in space, gravity falling from your weightless body as Steve rams into you in a brutal rhythm.

“So, so beautiful, baby. Look even prettier with my cock in you.” At this point, he’s rotating you down onto his lap instead of thrusting up into you. Sweat beads down his forehead and onto your chest as his groin tightens. His dick grows bigger, swelling inside of you while he grunts and growls and lets out the prettiest sounds into your ear.

“Gonna make you a mom one day, baby. Fuck you until you’re round and full and everyone, even fucking Rick, knows you’re mine.”

He moans ‘I love you’s’ into your shoulder, biting down onto the junction of your neck as he empties inside of you. Ropes of warmth spread throughout your cunt as he fucks you through his orgasm.

His chest heaves as he falls forward with you, collapsing onto the bed in a frenzied mess of aching limbs and satisfied hums.

He catches his breath quicker than you do, contended sighs and soft kisses along your spine as you both settle down. He moves down your body until he lands on your hips, before gliding his mouth back up to your cheek. He kisses you for the millionth time that night. “…Were you serious? Ya know, did you mean what you said?”

You smile into the blanket, using what little strength you have left to roll over onto him. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you mouth at his neck and collarbone, kissing Steve tenderly in the way he truly deserves.

“Every word.”

•••

Steve Harrington Taglist (+18)

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#another Steve smut fic? Yeah!!#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things smut #stranger things

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