cherrychilli

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, strangers to lovers, flashing(f), nipple piercings, bar fight, some moderate injuries, getting arrested WC: 1.5K Summary: A bar brawl ends with you and Eddie behind bars. What you both don't realize at first is that this terrible night is one big blessing in disguise.

The throbbing in his head is just about subsiding though the sting of his cuts and the ache of his bruises will remain longer than he'd like.

Two hours down, however more to go.

You seem to be faring much better in the cell across from him where he can see you curled up in bed and asleep, your knees drawn up to your chest and your arms wrapped around your shins.

Eddie used to think of himself as the type who could sleep anywhere, fitting his body in any space no matter the place, the angle or how narrow like some kind of game of Tetris but that was until he'd had a night like this.

Sleep would not come easily tonight.

Eddie didn't know what the creep whispering in your ear had said but he knew it couldn't have been anything charming when you emptied your long island ice tea all over his face with one quick swing of your arm.

He watched from nearby at the bar from the moment you'd walked in to when you'd tried to walk away from the man, only to be pulled back by your elbow, fury in his drenched scowling face. That was when Eddie stepped in, leaving his half finished beer behind, acting much quicker than he could think.

For a good fifteen minutes he'd been psyching himself up to come over and introduce himself to you, maybe even try out a pick up line. Nothing crude, just something to hopefully earn a laugh out of you. Not have your first interaction to be you watching him punch that dickhead in the throat, surprising all three of you.

What he had meant to do was strike the guy in his wet, boozy face. Unfortunately for him, the soggy prick happened to be an entire foot or so taller than Eddie who'd definitely miscalculated the blow.

Regardless, it was still an effective one.

Coughing wildly from having those four chunky silver rings make contact with his windpipe like that, the prick's eyes begin to water and he seemed to forget all about you as he glared down at Eddie next in the kind of way a charging bull might at a red flag.

He begins shoving people out of the way, lemon wedge stuck in his hair and ice that'd slipped into the collar of his shirt and journeyed all the way down his pants and into his shoe as he forcefully makes a path to the now very pale and shivering Eddie. That was until someone else stepped in on account of having their drink spilled, throwing a punch at the side of his head that connects with the brawny creep's ear.

That second punch is what set off some kind of chain reaction at the bar, everyone turning on each other, being shoved side to side, punches being thrown left and right.

In the struggle, Eddie catches one in the collarbone, the crowd listing this way and that. When he ended up on the floor, knocked down on to his knees and elbows all scraped up, someone else's knee sinks into his side and another fist lands between his shoulder blades.

Not the worst beat down he's ever had.

When the police sirens sounded out it only got worse, everyone trying to stampede out the back before the cops could get a hold of them.

It seemed your bad luck was yet to end, one officer getting you by the arm and another yanking Eddie back by his hair before you're both cuffed and hauled into separate patrol cars.

The few sips of your long island ice tea sit bitter in your stomach during the ride to the station. It's only when you get there that you find out that, of the whole crowd at the bar, it was just the two of you who were brought in, everyone else able to run to safety, even that overgrown knuckle dragging mule who'd started it all by getting too fresh with you. The only good thing that'd come of the night was getting to see him wheeze like a fish on land and his eyes tear up when the cute guy with the rings got him in the throat.

You were yet to learn his name.

During the time in which you're both taken in for processing you steal a few glances at him, your stomach in knots from seeing the tender plum purple bruise on his collarbone and his knuckles all red and scraped up. It's hard not to feel guilty about it.

You don't get to ponder on it too long though when one of the officers comes by to let you both know that it's time for your one phone call. Eddie uses his up on Steve who was an hour away, having a night out of his own though he's quick to drop it and begin the drive over to come bail his friend out.

Your roommate was quick to answer the phone too. You feel bad for making her worry when you tell her where you're calling from, the poor thing launching into a flurry a questions until you're able to convince her that it isn't as bad as it seems. She agrees to come over to bail you out after that, anticipating that it wont be too long of a wait since your apartment is not too far away from the station.

The stale, stagnant smell inside the cell and the stained pillow which you kick aside are two very minor things to deal with all things considered. And though his cell is across from yours, neither of you say a word. All you can do is lie on your side and wait.

Eddie refrains from breaking the silence for a few reasons. Maybe you're still shaken by the whole thing and are in no mood to talk. Or worse, maybe he'd scared you with the way he'd stepped in and thrown that first punch. The latter makes him want to curl up too but he remains as is, seated and rubbing at his sore knuckles while the minutes pass. He's not a violent man but making you think he might be makes his whole mouth turn prickly and sour.

It's the clanging of the officer's baton against the bars of your cell that gets you up, unrolling yourself from the little ball you'd curled into as she slips in a key to your cell door to get out for your release.

Out of the corner of your eye you can tell that the man with the long hair who'd intervened for your sake is gazing at you. It doesn't feel right to leave without speaking to him first.

"I should have said it sooner but thanks for trying to help. I owe you", you look up to make eye contact with him, managing a small smile.

His eyes light up at the sound of your voice.

"That's alright. It was no way to treat a lady.", he refers to the prick who'd got you both in this mess. "Specially one who looks like you."

You blink, a little stunned. And here you had been curled up and faking sleep because you guessed he might think you blameworthy for the whole incident. That maybe if you hadn't thrown your drink then he wouldn't have had to step in. Now knowing that he didn't find you responsible for how the evening turned out, your lips curve up into a bigger smile.

All you regret now is not having spoken to him sooner.

"Sweet talker."

He smiles back. "'m just being honest."

You catch the officer rolling her eyes at your flirting before she turns her back on you both, sorting out the ring of keys in her hands.

It's been a bit of a wild night and suddenly it feels like you're still riding that wave of adrenaline, blood pumping twice as fast in your veins. In that moment you figure out a much better way to say thank you.

With the few seconds that you have you act fast, turning around to pull the hem of your skirt up to let Eddie see, then twirling back around to lift your top up after.

Of all the things that could have happened following his arrest, he hadn't counted on getting to see your ass bounce and your cheeks spread to show you barely clothed in the tiniest lace thong and your jiggling tits, your pretty nipples hard and studded with glittering silver piercings.

He must have saved a Pope in a different life because this is by far the best reward he's ever received.

You pull your clothes back into place in time before the officer ushers you along towards the bullpen, your roommate busy filling out the last of some paperwork over there at another officer's desk.

"Come find me, okay?", you tell him with a big grin and a playful waggle of your fingers.

It's cute the way his jaw hangs slightly open and his face turns a very pretty shade of magenta.

Eddie springs up and brings his face up to the bars, his cheeks squished between them as he called out for you. "I don't know your name! how am I going to find you?"

That makes you giggle. "You know someone else with an ass and tits like these?", winking back like some kind of raunchy Cinderella on your way out.

Eddie grins.

Oh, he'd find you alright, and he won't rest until he can get his hands and lips all over you.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, strangers to lovers, flashing(f), nipple piercings, bar fight, some moderate injuries, getting arrested WC: 1.5K Summary: A bar brawl ends with you and Eddie behind bars. What you both don't realize at first is that this terrible night is one big blessing in disguise.

The throbbing in his head is just about subsiding though the sting of his cuts and the ache of his bruises will remain longer than he'd like.

Two hours down, however more to go.

You seem to be faring much better in the cell across from him where he can see you curled up in bed and asleep, your knees drawn up to your chest and your arms wrapped around your shins.

Eddie used to think of himself as the type who could sleep anywhere, fitting his body in any space no matter the place, the angle or how narrow like some kind of game of Tetris but that was until he'd had a night like this.

Sleep would not come easily tonight.

Eddie didn't know what the creep whispering in your ear had said but he knew it couldn't have been anything charming when you emptied your long island ice tea all over his face with one quick swing of your arm.

He watched from nearby at the bar from the moment you'd walked in to when you'd tried to walk away from the man, only to be pulled back by your elbow, fury in his drenched scowling face. That was when Eddie stepped in, leaving his half finished beer behind, acting much quicker than he could think.

For a good fifteen minutes he'd been psyching himself up to come over and introduce himself to you, maybe even try out a pick up line. Nothing crude, just something to hopefully earn a laugh out of you. Not have your first interaction to be you watching him punch that dickhead in the throat, surprising all three of you.

What he had meant to do was strike the guy in his wet, boozy face. Unfortunately for him, the soggy prick happened to be an entire foot or so taller than Eddie who'd definitely miscalculated the blow.

Regardless, it was still an effective one.

Coughing wildly from having those four chunky silver rings make contact with his windpipe like that, the prick's eyes begin to water and he seemed to forget all about you as he glared down at Eddie next in the kind of way a charging bull might at a red flag.

He begins shoving people out of the way, lemon wedge stuck in his hair and ice that'd slipped into the collar of his shirt and journeyed all the way down his pants and into his shoe as he forcefully makes a path to the now very pale and shivering Eddie. That was until someone else stepped in on account of having their drink spilled, throwing a punch at the side of his head that connects with the brawny creep's ear.

That second punch is what set off some kind of chain reaction at the bar, everyone turning on each other, being shoved side to side, punches being thrown left and right.

In the struggle, Eddie catches one in the collarbone, the crowd listing this way and that. When he ended up on the floor, knocked down on to his knees and elbows all scraped up, someone else's knee sinks into his side and another fist lands between his shoulder blades.

Not the worst beat down he's ever had.

When the police sirens sounded out it only got worse, everyone trying to stampede out the back before the cops could get a hold of them.

It seemed your bad luck was yet to end, one officer getting you by the arm and another yanking Eddie back by his hair before you're both cuffed and hauled into separate patrol cars.

The few sips of your long island ice tea sit bitter in your stomach during the ride to the station. It's only when you get there that you find out that, of the whole crowd at the bar, it was just the two of you who were brought in, everyone else able to run to safety, even that overgrown knuckle dragging mule who'd started it all by getting too fresh with you. The only good thing that'd come of the night was getting to see him wheeze like a fish on land and his eyes tear up when the cute guy with the rings got him in the throat.

You were yet to learn his name.

During the time in which you're both taken in for processing you steal a few glances at him, your stomach in knots from seeing the tender plum purple bruise on his collarbone and his knuckles all red and scraped up. It's hard not to feel guilty about it.

You don't get to ponder on it too long though when one of the officers comes by to let you both know that it's time for your one phone call. Eddie uses his up on Steve who was an hour away, having a night out of his own though he's quick to drop it and begin the drive over to come bail his friend out.

Your roommate was quick to answer the phone too. You feel bad for making her worry when you tell her where you're calling from, the poor thing launching into a flurry a questions until you're able to convince her that it isn't as bad as it seems. She agrees to come over to bail you out after that, anticipating that it wont be too long of a wait since your apartment is not too far away from the station.

The stale, stagnant smell inside the cell and the stained pillow which you kick aside are two very minor things to deal with all things considered. And though his cell is across from yours, neither of you say a word. All you can do is lie on your side and wait.

Eddie refrains from breaking the silence for a few reasons. Maybe you're still shaken by the whole thing and are in no mood to talk. Or worse, maybe he'd scared you with the way he'd stepped in and thrown that first punch. The latter makes him want to curl up too but he remains as is, seated and rubbing at his sore knuckles while the minutes pass. He's not a violent man but making you think he might be makes his whole mouth turn prickly and sour.

It's the clanging of the officer's baton against the bars of your cell that gets you up, unrolling yourself from the little ball you'd curled into as she slips in a key to your cell door to get out for your release.

Out of the corner of your eye you can tell that the man with the long hair who'd intervened for your sake is gazing at you. It doesn't feel right to leave without speaking to him first.

"I should have said it sooner but thanks for trying to help. I owe you", you look up to make eye contact with him, managing a small smile.

His eyes light up at the sound of your voice.

"That's alright. It was no way to treat a lady.", he refers to the prick who'd got you both in this mess. "Specially one who looks like you."

You blink, a little stunned. And here you had been curled up and faking sleep because you guessed he might think you blameworthy for the whole incident. That maybe if you hadn't thrown your drink then he wouldn't have had to step in. Now knowing that he didn't find you responsible for how the evening turned out, your lips curve up into a bigger smile.

All you regret now is not having spoken to him sooner.

"Sweet talker."

He smiles back. "'m just being honest."

You catch the officer rolling her eyes at your flirting before she turns her back on you both, sorting out the ring of keys in her hands.

It's been a bit of a wild night and suddenly it feels like you're still riding that wave of adrenaline, blood pumping twice as fast in your veins. In that moment you figure out a much better way to say thank you.

With the few seconds that you have you act fast, turning around to pull the hem of your skirt up to let Eddie see, then twirling back around to lift your top up after.

Of all the things that could have happened following his arrest, he hadn't counted on getting to see your ass bounce and your cheeks spread to show you barely clothed in the tiniest lace thong and your jiggling tits, your pretty nipples hard and studded with glittering silver piercings.

He must have saved a Pope in a different life because this is by far the best reward he's ever received.

You pull your clothes back into place in time before the officer ushers you along towards the bullpen, your roommate busy filling out the last of some paperwork over there at another officer's desk.

"Come find me, okay?", you tell him with a big grin and a playful waggle of your fingers.

It's cute the way his jaw hangs slightly open and his face turns a very pretty shade of magenta.

Eddie springs up and brings his face up to the bars, his cheeks squished between them as he called out for you. "I don't know your name! how am I going to find you?"

That makes you giggle. "You know someone else with an ass and tits like these?", winking back like some kind of raunchy Cinderella on your way out.

Eddie grins.

Oh, he'd find you alright, and he won't rest until he can get his hands and lips all over you.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Perv! Steve Harrington x f! reader, rich! reader, established relationship, oral sex(f & m), anal play(f), thigh fucking, implied PIV sex, unprotected sex, cream pie WC:3.5K Summary: Pervy! Steve meets your family for the first time at your father's big celebration dinner and things get a little inappropriate when he pries you away from the party and into an empty room for some much needed privacy.

You'd been waiting for the right moment and it seemed to have finally presented itself. A quiet dinner with your parents in the family dining room where just moments ago, your father had shared news of another successful business takeover. With spirits high and your parents' glasses topped with their drinks of choice, you shared some good news of your own.

Your mother was thrilled. She was won over the instant she'd heard the name 'Harrington' leave your lips. You had a feeling she would be. You didn't like it but you knew that she had a special interest in of all the well to do families in the area, hoping that you would one day pair up with someone who came from a background that matched your own.

Image meant so much to your parents. You knew this even though you didn't view things like status and money the same way they did but admittedly, it did make you feel the slightest bit more reassured when you told them about Steve. Knowing how they thought, you figured they'd have to be pleased with the news that their daughter was dating a boy who met their standards. Someone who came from 'a good, wholesome family' as your mother always put it even though you knew what she really meant was someone who came from wealth.

Your father didn't share your mother's enthusiasm however. He wasn't impressed that Steve had chosen to work at the video store instead of enrolling at a prestigious college like the sons of all his flashy business associates. That made you tense up in your seat until your mother waved off his remark, tutting at him over her glass of wine.

She told him it was only a slight misstep which could be overlooked because, as they all assumed, it would only be a matter of time until Steve would eventually grow out of this 'rebellious phase' and work under his father at his lucrative firm. That he'd realize his mistake and know how good he could have it with the life his parents expect of him.

You didn't enjoy the way your parents were speculating about him but you knew going into this that you would have to bite your tongue sometimes if you wanted them onboard, telling yourself that their shallow comments were best ignored.

Your father didn't attempt to counter your mother's reasoning. He agreed with her that Steve could fall in line and pursue a more fitting position at a respectable establishment like his father's. That much he could admit.

Still, he continued to show his displeasure with a pointed lack of interest that told you that he'd prefer to be anywhere else but your dining table right now as your mother subjected you to a flurry of questions. He didn't engage after that, only cutting at his steak whilst his frown deepened at every mention of Steve's name.

His real qualm with Steve was simple. He just didn't like him. He believed that there were other boys out there who had a leg up on Steve - Ivy League business majors, Law undergraduates, medical residents, who would fare far better at taking care of you and make your family look even better in the eyes of all your parents' pretentious friends. Yet, something more pressing gnawed at him as your mother poured him another whiskey before excitedly turning back to you. A feeling he couldn't shake that there was something... unseemly about Steve.

****

You didn't take your father's reaction, or more specifically, lack thereof to heart. In fact, you were relieved as you readied yourself for the dinner your family was hosting in celebration of the merger. He hadn't done any of the things you were afraid he might like try to convince you that you were making a mistake or arguing that your boyfriend wouldn't fit in with your(their) lifestyle or worse - simply forbidding you.

He didn't even try to push back when your mother nearly jumped out of her seat last night when the idea occurred to her that you should invite Steve to the dinner tonight.

Black tie, obviously.

While not showing any enthusiasm, your father never said no and that told you he had made his peace with your decision. Only when the guests started to arrive you soon realized that wasn't the case.

You felt helpless, unable to do anything but follow along as your father introduced you to his colleagues and their sons (who you weren't even aware were invited). You grit your teeth as he basically offered you up to them, his firm hand on your back over your floor length pale champagne silk dress, the one your mom had picked out for you. Your matching heels clicked on top of the polished marble tiles with every step as he directed you from one imperious boy to the next.

Not wanting to appear rude, you tolerated their vanity, feigning interest and impress at their talks of attending the finest schools (that their parents bought their way into) or landing positions at some of the biggest companies (reserved for them by way of nepotism).

You realized then that this was your father's way of making it known to Steve that you had options. 'Better' options and plenty of them lined up and waiting to be with you. It was obvious the whole thing was intended to make Steve feel jealous or insecure but you noticed that the boy appeared completely unfazed.

It didn't take much for him to charm your mother and he didn't relent at your father's underhanded behavior. When you're finally able to pry yourself away from the clearly intoxicated Braydon Mayhew after resisting the urge to retch at his offer to show you the back seat of his father's new Mercedes, you rush to Steve's side, slipping your hand into his which he squeezes back reassuringly.

"I'm so sorry", you whisper up at him, meaning it more than you could possibly show. "You have every right to be mad", you admit, embarrassed and angered by your father's behavior. He had barely acknowledged Steve when you proudly introduced him earlier, only taking a few moments to nod at him grimly before steering you away towards Kyle Yately who'd returned from the bathroom after a considerable absence. Now noticeably more alert.

Your father greeted Kyle with an exaggerated warmth he had denied Steve, you noticed with growing resentment. Your mood only worsened when your eyes fell to the light dusting of white powder underneath the boy's nose, knowing your father had seen it too but said nothing because Kyle's father was a key partner in his business. This was who he'd rather you be with. Some coke head wipe out with a trust fund.

"I'm not upset", Steve replies, looking like he means it as he smiles down at you in a way that feels so intimate, so handsome in his suit. He understands. You know he does. He's been through the same with his own parents before, having girls picked out for him, each one of them insufferable in their own ways and less compatible than the last. He'd rejected all of them and never looked back, his parents' disappointment and demands never rattling him as he went on to make a life of his own. A steady job, a fine car, an apartment just for him, reliable friends and now, you. He was doing better than they care to admit and you feel encouraged to take a page out of his book when it comes to dealing with your own family.

You melt against Steve as the dinner party continues, sounds of chatter and bursts of pompous laughter at every corner. In a room where everyone else was competing for center of attention, it was easy for the two of you slip away unnoticed when he tugged you towards the hallway, ducking down to whisper against your ear, "How 'bout you give me a tour of the place?"

You smile cheekily at the thought of sneaking him into your bedroom while the party continued downstairs but the thought gets cut short when he points at a nearby door instead. "What's in here?" he asks but he's already turning the knob. You step past him as he holds the door open for you and explain, "this is my father's study".

Your gaze scans the familiar furnishings and features like full grain leather and Brazilian cherry hardwood flooring with newfound contempt. It's only then that you realize that there isn't a single family photo displayed in here. Only college degrees in gaudy gold frames, glinting trophies and awards and photographs of him receiving said trophies and awards, the whole room eerily resembling a shrine to himself.

"We should go. He doesn't like it when people come in here", you roll your eyes, remembering all the times he'd impatiently ushered you out of there whenever you stepped in, not to be disturbed because of the many conference calls with the London office, the Milan office and the New York office.

You go to walk through the door, expecting Steve to hold it open for you once more but you're puzzled when he closes it instead.

"Not yet. I've barely seen you all night and now I've finally got you all to myself"

****

This is so wrong.

So wrong and so fucking exhilarating.

You stomp the shame sprouting inside you down in favor of the tight, gooey warmth building in the base of your stomach.

"Steve..." you whine out breathily, your palms sweating on the polished surface of your father's oak desk, your heels digging into the cashmere rug at your feet as your knees shake and wobble.

You've never been eaten out like this before, bent over with Steve licking you out from behind. The sensation feels all the more dirty with the way your slinky dress has been rucked up so crudely to your waist, your damp thong making a stain in his jacket pocket as you rock your hips back to let his tongue lap at your clit.

It made you feel self conscious at first, having him eat you out from this angle but Steve worked faster than you could shut the idea down entirely. And you're glad he did, your body giving into the wonderful feelings wracking every inch of muscle and bone trembling inside your skin, your legs widening to encourage his tongue inside you.

Gladly dipping the muscle in and out of your greedy hole, Steve sucks down every drop of smooth slick you weep for him like nectar before he gives other parts of you his attention. Pulling his tongue free, he bites playfully at the curve of your ass a few times as he begins to move lower. His broad hands pull your cheeks apart and his tongue then wanders over to your tight rim knowing it would draw an embarrassed whine out of you to know that you liked the sloppy wet drag of his busy tongue licking over it again and again.

You'd talked about it before, having him fuck you there and as much as he'd love for tonight to be the night, he knew he owed you the decency of taking the time to loosen you up first, maybe float the idea of you wearing a plug for a few hours before he would carefully takes it out to replace it with the thick length of his cock.

After all, he wouldn't want to hurt you. Not to mention how much he's defiled you in this room already.

"Poor thing. Can barely stand up after having that circus of pricks out there fawning all over you", his fingers beginning to unbutton his trousers, zipper coming down, the tip of his perfect nose wet with your slick.

Steve eyes your body closely to admire the signs of his work, your folds all swollen and puffy from how much he'd sucked on them, a translucent mix of your slick and his saliva making your pussy glossy. Spreading your lips apart he eyes your hole again, watching it pinch and pulse so pathetically around nothing. So terribly empty. He aims to resolve that.

"What happened, baby? those daddy's boys work you up into a frenzy?"

You nearly snort at the mere idea of it.

"Fucking jokes, all of them. 'Don't mean a damn thing to me", you sigh, wiggling your ass as Steve gets back on his feet, his weighty cock pulled out and ready to be slid between your thighs.

"Can't blame them for trying. Beautiful thing like you is hard to come by", Steve gently guides you forward until your breasts and cheek are pressed up against the desk, his cock pressing between your thighs until his tip nudges your poor worked up clit.

"Mm...I'm yours Stevie. Don't want anyone else", you remind him, pushing your hips back to hump messily at his sticky cock as it slips and slides between your warm thighs.

"Good girl. That's what I like to hear."

You hum with delight, ass bouncing against Steve's pelvis to make the wet slap of skin on skin echo in your ears, the bumps of his veiny shaft and spongy tip heaven against your clit while your folds spread apart and border his dick.

And you could have cum there as is, the pressure between your legs nearing immense.

Until...

There's movement on the other side of the door and you tense up when you see the shadows dancing underneath the gap. Then the handle begins to jiggle and you think your heart might shoot up past your throat and out through the roof of your skull.

Someone's coming inside.

The thought of anyone, maybe your mother who'd raised you to be the epitome of proper, growing faint at the sight of her daughter bent over underneath the boy she'd been boasting to all her friends about makes you shudder. You know she'd forget all about how much money Steve's father made if she saw you like this. Sweaty. sticky. sullied.

Of course she'd be no less severe with you. There was one other thing she held in equal esteem to wealth - appearances. This is how you repay her for all the effort she put into molding you for a life of high society? how she fussed and spared no expense making you the standout debutante in town? though none of it was what you'd wanted for yourself you knew how much it meant to her.

Or worse, your father walking in to see the boy he'd all but dismissed as not good enough for his daughter, fucking her stupid on his desk and her loving it. How Steve would grin back and watch with sick satisfaction as your father's face contorted and bled red with rage.

It's a good thing the hunting rifle displayed on the wall next to the mounted stag's head is only for show, no ammunition to load it with. No way to blow Steve's head off his shoulders in one gory blast, bone and blood spraying the walls. Thankfully.

But Steve didn't need your father to know how good he'd worked up his daughter under his own roof and in his own study to be satisfied.

In a hurry you're pulled under the table, Steve's hand clamped over your mouth, index finger held up to his lips to let you know to keep quiet.

"I know I left it in here", you hear your father's voice when the door swings open, the familiar scent of your mother's Dior perfume wafting in after him.

"Then it must be in here", you mother sighs with clear sass, her perfect nails clinking impatiently against the crystal glass in her hand.

You have no idea what 'it' might be but you hoped whatever 'it' was, that it wouldn't get the two of you caught like this. Not before you've finished at least.

It's a mess between your legs, your dress damp with sweat and wrinkled all over. Though you're in better shape than Steve, his cock still out over his unbuttoned pants, unable to try and get it back in for fear of being heard.

It's so tempting, especially the way it keeps twitching in your face. You stare at it long enough until you just can't help yourself, afraid you might not get another chance tonight. So, you reach for it, rubbing the glistening pink tip with the pad of your index finger, so slippery soft with all the precum that drools from his slit.

You're playing a dangerous game but it's impossible to stop now as Steve's face begins to turn a very similar shade of pink, his lips curling up with a sly little smirk.

"Go on", he mouths to you, gently and quietly pulling you closer. He's able to spread his legs somewhat, his back against one side of the desk while you crouch on your knees between his legs, lips kissing his tip so sweetly.

"It's not in here..." you hear your father growl, admitting it reluctantly.

"Oh what a surprise. It's like I've been saying all along", your mother replies. You can practically hear the way she rolls her eyes.

You block them out, taking the head of Steve's cock into your mouth then, sucking till your cheeks begin to fill with the slippery tang of his precum, sucking it out of him so quickly you almost worry you're taking more than he can give at this pace. Greedy. And all while your eyes remain fixed on each other as you're connected like this, as if you're the only ones in the room.

And soon enough, you are, your father stomping out of the room followed by the click clack of your mother's Versace heels. Neither of them having a clue of the filth taking place just a few feet away.

When the door shuts you tongue the underside of Steve's shaft to catch the little trickle of spit and precum that spilled down out the corner of your lips, pulling off his cock to swallow all that he's made in your mouth. None of it goes to waste with how thorough you've been.

"That was close", you snicker, no longer sweating fear at the thought of getting caught, the thrill of having gotten away with it is so intoxicating.

"Yeah. In more ways that one", he jokes back and you know what he means. You've drawn him to the edge as he did to you, both of you throbbing between your legs, aching for the orgasms that are yet to burst within you.

"Why don't we finish up and join the others for dinner?", he cradles your jaw, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips which carries the special scent of both him and you. "It'd be rude to keep them waiting too long."

****

By the time the both of you are done fucking the others have already been seated, your mother quietly aghast and your father simmering with fury when they get a look at you, neither of them saying a word and you know they wont until every guest has left.

Disheveled is a kind way of putting it.

Braydon coughs and chokes into his sixth whisky when you enter and the sight of you is enough to make Kyle stop sniffing and twitching his fingers. The rest of the boys hand picked by your father as potential suitors react similarly, so very silent and scandalized in their seats.

Steve's hair is a mess, no longer neatly combed and swooped back like it had been when he's showed up. His bow tie is crooked and his suit is unkempt. As is your makeup, lipstick smudged and dress unruly while a hickey blooms on your neck.

No one says a word.

You wouldn't have cared if they did.

Returning to the dining table like this doesn't worry you, and neither does whatever is yet to come with your parents.

They hadn't known it but tonight had been a test. You decided a while back that if they couldn't truly welcome Steve then they would have to say goodbye to you too.

Your mother's approval of Steve wouldn't have lasted past learning that your boyfriend had no plans whatsoever to work under his father and by how things went tonight, you knew your father's approval could not be won either.

It's because of this that you'd been careful enough to save your money, knowing sooner or later that you would no longer be able to turn to them for any kind of help. Not that you'd want to.

This was no spur of the moment thing. You had a plan. A college acceptance letter sat in your suitcase along with all the other things you'd be taking with you to move into Steve's apartment. Sure, it wasn't going to be easy.

Secretly, you'd been going in for job interviews during the past few weeks, eventually landing a spot as a receptionist. You're going to work to put yourself through college while Steve insisted on covering the rent and it's what you both want. To be with each other, the people who love and nurture you unconditionally, not the families on the very verge of shunning you both.

This was just one final fuck you to your family before your departure.

And it felt all that much better sitting there, having your last few bites of caviar for the foreseeable future and having Steve dripping out of you in thick dollops. If there's one thing you're leaving behind in your soon to be former home, it's the stain currently growing on the vicuña seat.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Perv! Steve Harrington x f! reader, rich! reader, established relationship, oral sex(f & m), anal play(f), thigh fucking, implied PIV sex, unprotected sex, cream pie WC:3.5K Summary: Pervy! Steve meets your family for the first time at your father's big celebration dinner and things get a little inappropriate when he pries you away from the party and into an empty room for some much needed privacy.

You'd been waiting for the right moment and it seemed to have finally presented itself. A quiet dinner with your parents in the family dining room where just moments ago, your father had shared news of another successful business takeover. With spirits high and your parents' glasses topped with their drinks of choice, you shared some good news of your own.

Your mother was thrilled. She was won over the instant she'd heard the name 'Harrington' leave your lips. You had a feeling she would be. You didn't like it but you knew that she had a special interest in of all the well to do families in the area, hoping that you would one day pair up with someone who came from a background that matched your own.

Image meant so much to your parents. You knew this even though you didn't view things like status and money the same way they did but admittedly, it did make you feel the slightest bit more reassured when you told them about Steve. Knowing how they thought, you figured they'd have to be pleased with the news that their daughter was dating a boy who met their standards. Someone who came from 'a good, wholesome family' as your mother always put it even though you knew what she really meant was someone who came from wealth.

Your father didn't share your mother's enthusiasm however. He wasn't impressed that Steve had chosen to work at the video store instead of enrolling at a prestigious college like the sons of all his flashy business associates. That made you tense up in your seat until your mother waved off his remark, tutting at him over her glass of wine.

She told him it was only a slight misstep which could be overlooked because, as they all assumed, it would only be a matter of time until Steve would eventually grow out of this 'rebellious phase' and work under his father at his lucrative firm. That he'd realize his mistake and know how good he could have it with the life his parents expect of him.

You didn't enjoy the way your parents were speculating about him but you knew going into this that you would have to bite your tongue sometimes if you wanted them onboard, telling yourself that their shallow comments were best ignored.

Your father didn't attempt to counter your mother's reasoning. He agreed with her that Steve could fall in line and pursue a more fitting position at a respectable establishment like his father's. That much he could admit.

Still, he continued to show his displeasure with a pointed lack of interest that told you that he'd prefer to be anywhere else but your dining table right now as your mother subjected you to a flurry of questions. He didn't engage after that, only cutting at his steak whilst his frown deepened at every mention of Steve's name.

His real qualm with Steve was simple. He just didn't like him. He believed that there were other boys out there who had a leg up on Steve - Ivy League business majors, Law undergraduates, medical residents, who would fare far better at taking care of you and make your family look even better in the eyes of all your parents' pretentious friends. Yet, something more pressing gnawed at him as your mother poured him another whiskey before excitedly turning back to you. A feeling he couldn't shake that there was something... unseemly about Steve.

****

You didn't take your father's reaction, or more specifically, lack thereof to heart. In fact, you were relieved as you readied yourself for the dinner your family was hosting in celebration of the merger. He hadn't done any of the things you were afraid he might like try to convince you that you were making a mistake or arguing that your boyfriend wouldn't fit in with your(their) lifestyle or worse - simply forbidding you.

He didn't even try to push back when your mother nearly jumped out of her seat last night when the idea occurred to her that you should invite Steve to the dinner tonight.

Black tie, obviously.

While not showing any enthusiasm, your father never said no and that told you he had made his peace with your decision. Only when the guests started to arrive you soon realized that wasn't the case.

You felt helpless, unable to do anything but follow along as your father introduced you to his colleagues and their sons (who you weren't even aware were invited). You grit your teeth as he basically offered you up to them, his firm hand on your back over your floor length pale champagne silk dress, the one your mom had picked out for you. Your matching heels clicked on top of the polished marble tiles with every step as he directed you from one imperious boy to the next.

Not wanting to appear rude, you tolerated their vanity, feigning interest and impress at their talks of attending the finest schools (that their parents bought their way into) or landing positions at some of the biggest companies (reserved for them by way of nepotism).

You realized then that this was your father's way of making it known to Steve that you had options. 'Better' options and plenty of them lined up and waiting to be with you. It was obvious the whole thing was intended to make Steve feel jealous or insecure but you noticed that the boy appeared completely unfazed.

It didn't take much for him to charm your mother and he didn't relent at your father's underhanded behavior. When you're finally able to pry yourself away from the clearly intoxicated Braydon Mayhew after resisting the urge to retch at his offer to show you the back seat of his father's new Mercedes, you rush to Steve's side, slipping your hand into his which he squeezes back reassuringly.

"I'm so sorry", you whisper up at him, meaning it more than you could possibly show. "You have every right to be mad", you admit, embarrassed and angered by your father's behavior. He had barely acknowledged Steve when you proudly introduced him earlier, only taking a few moments to nod at him grimly before steering you away towards Kyle Yately who'd returned from the bathroom after a considerable absence. Now noticeably more alert.

Your father greeted Kyle with an exaggerated warmth he had denied Steve, you noticed with growing resentment. Your mood only worsened when your eyes fell to the light dusting of white powder underneath the boy's nose, knowing your father had seen it too but said nothing because Kyle's father was a key partner in his business. This was who he'd rather you be with. Some coke head wipe out with a trust fund.

"I'm not upset", Steve replies, looking like he means it as he smiles down at you in a way that feels so intimate, so handsome in his suit. He understands. You know he does. He's been through the same with his own parents before, having girls picked out for him, each one of them insufferable in their own ways and less compatible than the last. He'd rejected all of them and never looked back, his parents' disappointment and demands never rattling him as he went on to make a life of his own. A steady job, a fine car, an apartment just for him, reliable friends and now, you. He was doing better than they care to admit and you feel encouraged to take a page out of his book when it comes to dealing with your own family.

You melt against Steve as the dinner party continues, sounds of chatter and bursts of pompous laughter at every corner. In a room where everyone else was competing for center of attention, it was easy for the two of you slip away unnoticed when he tugged you towards the hallway, ducking down to whisper against your ear, "How 'bout you give me a tour of the place?"

You smile cheekily at the thought of sneaking him into your bedroom while the party continued downstairs but the thought gets cut short when he points at a nearby door instead. "What's in here?" he asks but he's already turning the knob. You step past him as he holds the door open for you and explain, "this is my father's study".

Your gaze scans the familiar furnishings and features like full grain leather and Brazilian cherry hardwood flooring with newfound contempt. It's only then that you realize that there isn't a single family photo displayed in here. Only college degrees in gaudy gold frames, glinting trophies and awards and photographs of him receiving said trophies and awards, the whole room eerily resembling a shrine to himself.

"We should go. He doesn't like it when people come in here", you roll your eyes, remembering all the times he'd impatiently ushered you out of there whenever you stepped in, not to be disturbed because of the many conference calls with the London office, the Milan office and the New York office.

You go to walk through the door, expecting Steve to hold it open for you once more but you're puzzled when he closes it instead.

"Not yet. I've barely seen you all night and now I've finally got you all to myself"

****

This is so wrong.

So wrong and so fucking exhilarating.

You stomp the shame sprouting inside you down in favor of the tight, gooey warmth building in the base of your stomach.

"Steve..." you whine out breathily, your palms sweating on the polished surface of your father's oak desk, your heels digging into the cashmere rug at your feet as your knees shake and wobble.

You've never been eaten out like this before, bent over with Steve licking you out from behind. The sensation feels all the more dirty with the way your slinky dress has been rucked up so crudely to your waist, your damp thong making a stain in his jacket pocket as you rock your hips back to let his tongue lap at your clit.

It made you feel self conscious at first, having him eat you out from this angle but Steve worked faster than you could shut the idea down entirely. And you're glad he did, your body giving into the wonderful feelings wracking every inch of muscle and bone trembling inside your skin, your legs widening to encourage his tongue inside you.

Gladly dipping the muscle in and out of your greedy hole, Steve sucks down every drop of smooth slick you weep for him like nectar before he gives other parts of you his attention. Pulling his tongue free, he bites playfully at the curve of your ass a few times as he begins to move lower. His broad hands pull your cheeks apart and his tongue then wanders over to your tight rim knowing it would draw an embarrassed whine out of you to know that you liked the sloppy wet drag of his busy tongue licking over it again and again.

You'd talked about it before, having him fuck you there and as much as he'd love for tonight to be the night, he knew he owed you the decency of taking the time to loosen you up first, maybe float the idea of you wearing a plug for a few hours before he would carefully takes it out to replace it with the thick length of his cock.

After all, he wouldn't want to hurt you. Not to mention how much he's defiled you in this room already.

"Poor thing. Can barely stand up after having that circus of pricks out there fawning all over you", his fingers beginning to unbutton his trousers, zipper coming down, the tip of his perfect nose wet with your slick.

Steve eyes your body closely to admire the signs of his work, your folds all swollen and puffy from how much he'd sucked on them, a translucent mix of your slick and his saliva making your pussy glossy. Spreading your lips apart he eyes your hole again, watching it pinch and pulse so pathetically around nothing. So terribly empty. He aims to resolve that.

"What happened, baby? those daddy's boys work you up into a frenzy?"

You nearly snort at the mere idea of it.

"Fucking jokes, all of them. 'Don't mean a damn thing to me", you sigh, wiggling your ass as Steve gets back on his feet, his weighty cock pulled out and ready to be slid between your thighs.

"Can't blame them for trying. Beautiful thing like you is hard to come by", Steve gently guides you forward until your breasts and cheek are pressed up against the desk, his cock pressing between your thighs until his tip nudges your poor worked up clit.

"Mm...I'm yours Stevie. Don't want anyone else", you remind him, pushing your hips back to hump messily at his sticky cock as it slips and slides between your warm thighs.

"Good girl. That's what I like to hear."

You hum with delight, ass bouncing against Steve's pelvis to make the wet slap of skin on skin echo in your ears, the bumps of his veiny shaft and spongy tip heaven against your clit while your folds spread apart and border his dick.

And you could have cum there as is, the pressure between your legs nearing immense.

Until...

There's movement on the other side of the door and you tense up when you see the shadows dancing underneath the gap. Then the handle begins to jiggle and you think your heart might shoot up past your throat and out through the roof of your skull.

Someone's coming inside.

The thought of anyone, maybe your mother who'd raised you to be the epitome of proper, growing faint at the sight of her daughter bent over underneath the boy she'd been boasting to all her friends about makes you shudder. You know she'd forget all about how much money Steve's father made if she saw you like this. Sweaty. sticky. sullied.

Of course she'd be no less severe with you. There was one other thing she held in equal esteem to wealth - appearances. This is how you repay her for all the effort she put into molding you for a life of high society? how she fussed and spared no expense making you the standout debutante in town? though none of it was what you'd wanted for yourself you knew how much it meant to her.

Or worse, your father walking in to see the boy he'd all but dismissed as not good enough for his daughter, fucking her stupid on his desk and her loving it. How Steve would grin back and watch with sick satisfaction as your father's face contorted and bled red with rage.

It's a good thing the hunting rifle displayed on the wall next to the mounted stag's head is only for show, no ammunition to load it with. No way to blow Steve's head off his shoulders in one gory blast, bone and blood spraying the walls. Thankfully.

But Steve didn't need your father to know how good he'd worked up his daughter under his own roof and in his own study to be satisfied.

In a hurry you're pulled under the table, Steve's hand clamped over your mouth, index finger held up to his lips to let you know to keep quiet.

"I know I left it in here", you hear your father's voice when the door swings open, the familiar scent of your mother's Dior perfume wafting in after him.

"Then it must be in here", you mother sighs with clear sass, her perfect nails clinking impatiently against the crystal glass in her hand.

You have no idea what 'it' might be but you hoped whatever 'it' was, that it wouldn't get the two of you caught like this. Not before you've finished at least.

It's a mess between your legs, your dress damp with sweat and wrinkled all over. Though you're in better shape than Steve, his cock still out over his unbuttoned pants, unable to try and get it back in for fear of being heard.

It's so tempting, especially the way it keeps twitching in your face. You stare at it long enough until you just can't help yourself, afraid you might not get another chance tonight. So, you reach for it, rubbing the glistening pink tip with the pad of your index finger, so slippery soft with all the precum that drools from his slit.

You're playing a dangerous game but it's impossible to stop now as Steve's face begins to turn a very similar shade of pink, his lips curling up with a sly little smirk.

"Go on", he mouths to you, gently and quietly pulling you closer. He's able to spread his legs somewhat, his back against one side of the desk while you crouch on your knees between his legs, lips kissing his tip so sweetly.

"It's not in here..." you hear your father growl, admitting it reluctantly.

"Oh what a surprise. It's like I've been saying all along", your mother replies. You can practically hear the way she rolls her eyes.

You block them out, taking the head of Steve's cock into your mouth then, sucking till your cheeks begin to fill with the slippery tang of his precum, sucking it out of him so quickly you almost worry you're taking more than he can give at this pace. Greedy. And all while your eyes remain fixed on each other as you're connected like this, as if you're the only ones in the room.

And soon enough, you are, your father stomping out of the room followed by the click clack of your mother's Versace heels. Neither of them having a clue of the filth taking place just a few feet away.

When the door shuts you tongue the underside of Steve's shaft to catch the little trickle of spit and precum that spilled down out the corner of your lips, pulling off his cock to swallow all that he's made in your mouth. None of it goes to waste with how thorough you've been.

"That was close", you snicker, no longer sweating fear at the thought of getting caught, the thrill of having gotten away with it is so intoxicating.

"Yeah. In more ways that one", he jokes back and you know what he means. You've drawn him to the edge as he did to you, both of you throbbing between your legs, aching for the orgasms that are yet to burst within you.

"Why don't we finish up and join the others for dinner?", he cradles your jaw, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips which carries the special scent of both him and you. "It'd be rude to keep them waiting too long."

****

By the time the both of you are done fucking the others have already been seated, your mother quietly aghast and your father simmering with fury when they get a look at you, neither of them saying a word and you know they wont until every guest has left.

Disheveled is a kind way of putting it.

Braydon coughs and chokes into his sixth whisky when you enter and the sight of you is enough to make Kyle stop sniffing and twitching his fingers. The rest of the boys hand picked by your father as potential suitors react similarly, so very silent and scandalized in their seats.

Steve's hair is a mess, no longer neatly combed and swooped back like it had been when he's showed up. His bow tie is crooked and his suit is unkempt. As is your makeup, lipstick smudged and dress unruly while a hickey blooms on your neck.

No one says a word.

You wouldn't have cared if they did.

Returning to the dining table like this doesn't worry you, and neither does whatever is yet to come with your parents.

They hadn't known it but tonight had been a test. You decided a while back that if they couldn't truly welcome Steve then they would have to say goodbye to you too.

Your mother's approval of Steve wouldn't have lasted past learning that your boyfriend had no plans whatsoever to work under his father and by how things went tonight, you knew your father's approval could not be won either.

It's because of this that you'd been careful enough to save your money, knowing sooner or later that you would no longer be able to turn to them for any kind of help. Not that you'd want to.

This was no spur of the moment thing. You had a plan. A college acceptance letter sat in your suitcase along with all the other things you'd be taking with you to move into Steve's apartment. Sure, it wasn't going to be easy.

Secretly, you'd been going in for job interviews during the past few weeks, eventually landing a spot as a receptionist. You're going to work to put yourself through college while Steve insisted on covering the rent and it's what you both want. To be with each other, the people who love and nurture you unconditionally, not the families on the very verge of shunning you both.

This was just one final fuck you to your family before your departure.

And it felt all that much better sitting there, having your last few bites of caviar for the foreseeable future and having Steve dripping out of you in thick dollops. If there's one thing you're leaving behind in your soon to be former home, it's the stain currently growing on the vicuña seat.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, idiot friends to lovers, not exactly a meet cute because they already know each other but it's also not not a naughty little meet cute if you get me, face sitting, 69 just not in the way you might think(yet), lots of horny flirting, mentions of blood, minor injury and one tiny meta reference I couldn't help but slip in. WC: 2K

Say what you will about Carol Perkins but the girl's got one hell of an arm. You stare with simmering contempt in your eyes at your purse wedged between the branches of an old, towering hickory several many feet above your head.

You're not surprised by it though. You expected some kind of retaliation after your little spat when you caught her trying to shoplift lip gloss at the cosmetics counter you worked at.

Word travelled fast after that, everyone snickering about how she tried to pull a Winona. Unfortunately for you, the incident wasn't enough to make her swear off five finger discounts. Her sticky little fingers managed to get hold of your purse when you had your back turned for only a few seconds the next day, a crudely scrawled note left behind which read, Come to the woods behind the school if you want your knock off Gucci back.

So you went there anticipating some fight club type of shit to go down. You really couldn't rule that out with a person like Carol, an old school bully to many who went to Hawkins High, especially those unlucky enough to have actually felt the fiery sting of her open palm against their cheek.

Only you were kind of looking forward to this meeting. Now a graduate and a little fired up yourself, you didn't need to worry about anything like a potential expulsion if you were to strike her back, fixing the rings on your fingers so that if you needed to, you could scratch open her chin when you uppercut the bitch.

But Carol wasn't there, a little to your disappointment. Only her handiwork left behind for you to deal with.

So now here you were, a crackling carpet of brittle yellowed and browned leaves crunching under your converse as you try to figure out the best way to go about retrieving your purse, hoping she hadn't also swiped any of the money inside it.

Looking around, you can't seem to spot a stick long enough to try and dislodge it, all of them far too short and skinny like bony witch fingers. The few rocks you try to aim at the thing missed every time too, purse still firmly in place.

So, you knew what needed to be done.

It's been a while since you last scaled a tree but you haven't forgotten how, hiking the skirt of your flared midi dress higher up your thighs while you reach for the closest branch, dry bark crumbling in your palms.

You're as careful as can be, taking your time to test every branch before you bear your full weight down on it, winding your way higher and higher up the thick gray trunk as you remind yourself to not look down.

Sweat beads down your back making your dress stick to your skin and your hands began to feel raw halfway through the climb so the relief you feel when you finally reach your purse is immense. Freeing one hand to pop open the clasp, you're able to confirm that Carol had in fact pinched a 50 which you very much intend to get back with interest before you toss her purse into the middle of lovers lake.

Clamping your teeth down on your purse, you begin your descent, following the exact path you took to get up it only you make it just a few inches lower when you hear a distinct dry snap followed by the shifty sound of footsteps. Two sets of footsteps making their way through the fallen leaves in fact.

Quietly, you sit yourself down on a thick branch that looks strong enough to hold you up, your legs dangling as you try to remain hidden behind the greener leaves yet to turn a shriveled yellow and break off from its branches. The thought of being caught like this is something you're not keen on. Especially at the risk of giving whoever it is an unobstructed up skirt view of your panties.

You hold your breath until they comes into view, recognition dawning on you when you set your eyes on the familiar combo of leather and denim and a very distinct tumbleweed of wild hair.

Eddie Munson, your old classmate and some letter jacket meat slab following in tow. The two of them sit across from each other at the formerly vacant wooden table and bench below, the tinny sound of Eddie's lunchbox echoing all the way up to your ears when he sets it down between them.

You watch quietly and closely at them going back and forth when Eddie quotes his price for a considerably large portion of the devil's lettuce all wrapped up in a thin, flimsy little plastic bag, a little amused seeing him all business and no jokes or smiles. There must be a party happening tonight, you deduce, that much weed too much for just the one person, even for a guy as big and hulking as Eddie's new customer.

The meat slab is the first to leave after digging through his pockets for a few extra dollars until Eddie hands him the stuff, trudging away through the crisp layer of dried up leaves until his footsteps turn muffled and then completely silent to let you know that he's no longer in the woods.

Eddie lingers for a few moments, apparently in no kind of rush as he takes his time closing up the lunch box, pulling out a cigarette and lighter as he gets up from the bench, just about to pass by your tree when-

crack!

The branch you'd perched yourself on wasn't as strong as you thought it to be when it snaps, a choked scream stuck in your throat with your teeth still wrapped around your purse when you lose your balance, your eyes squeezing shut as you plummet.

The impact knocks the wind out of you at first. Luckily you hadn't hit any of the other branches on your way down but a pulsing dull ache weaves it's way through your muscles, your palms and knees dirty and scraped up but your face seems to have landed on something much softer.

When you try to pick yourself up, you find yourself face to face with a pair of black denim jeans, the zipper somehow upside down as your hands press down on a pair of meaty thighs while you try to steady yourself.

You rock back just a bit, still trying to figure it all out with your head all spinny when feel your clothed pussy come to rest on something hard, a puff of hot air blown right into your panties with a muffled exclamation sounding out.

The way you scramble away is almost comical, so frantic like a severed gecko's tail when you figure out that you'd fallen right on top of Eddie, your face in his crotch and his in yours.

"Oh my god oh my god, I didn't mean to- are you okay? Eddie I'm so sorry!"

He's far less jittery than you are, propping himself up on his elbows with a little groan, leaves tangled in his hair, his lunchbox knocked onto its side behind him. The fall had made him bite his cigarette in two, one end lying on the forest floor before it's joined by the other when Eddie spits it out of his mouth. You manage to find his lighter nearby, picking it up and handing it back to him.

"Still in one piece", he pats his chest and he huffs a laugh, placing the lighter back inside his jacket pocket. "Could get used to this. It's not everyday that it rains pretty women."

The flirt. Just as he'd been with you in high school though you're not sure whether to be charmed or embarrassed given the circumstances. So both emotions manage to sneak in before you can decide on which one.

"I- my purse- Carol, see she tried to shoplift, right? I caught her and so my purse-", you find it just behind you, holding it up in front of Eddie's face as you continue to explain. "She lifted it before I could notice and she tossed it all the way up there," you point up at the spot you fell down from. "I slipped. I tried to stay quiet while you were busy but the branch broke and my foot slipped and..."

And what? "I'm sorry I sat on your face, Eddie? It won't happen again?" God, you felt so stupid right now.

"Woah woah, take a breath. It's not like I'm going to press charges or anything", he assures you.

You knew he wouldn't do anything of the sort. Eddie was always nice to you. Still is it seems, even after you so rudely and abruptly body slammed into him so damn hard. Maybe your luck's starting to turn. Or maybe it's just because he's in a good mood after a big sale... Yeah, that must be it.

Feeling a little better about the whole thing, you manage to get yourself back on to your feet even if a little unsteadily, holding a hand out to Eddie so you can help him up too. He accepts it at first but when his eyes fall to your knees his hand slips free from yours.

"You're bleeding", he notices.

Looking down, you see that he's right, two open cuts on both knees. Nothing serious but the blood is yet to clot, trailing down your legs in thin red lines and staining your socks.

You don't have anything on you to help dab it with, looking around when Eddie begins to shed his denim vest.

"It's clean, promise. Took it out of the laundry this morning"

The gesture is so sweet, watching him attentively as he kneels at your feet. You attempt to help too, picking the leaves out of his hair because it's the least you could do while he carefully cleans away the dirt on your skin. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your calf to steady himself is nice too, pressing the denim against your wounds so gently that you barely hiss at the sting.

"Doesn't look too bad. That's a good thing. You always had nice legs".

Your face could not feel any hotter than it already feels right now. At this angle, he might even be able to catch another glimpse or two up your skirt again but this time you don't mind at all. He's earned it.

"Thanks", you tell him with a smile, your toes curling in your socks because there's something so nice about being taken care of after the the whole thing with Carol that it makes you want to shiver with delight.

In the past you knew not to take him too seriously just in case he was only being nice to you but at the same time, Eddie was never one to be shy or less than honest about what he thought or said. Maybe you just had trouble accepting that and in turn, accepting that you were more than deserving of that kind of attention.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this. I could give you a ride if you're cool with that", he offers when he looks back up at you, the deep brown of his eyes now a light cinnamon with the sun spilling down on his face from between the branches.

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate that", you accept eagerly.

The drive back to yours is more than pleasant, though you'd never actually lost touch it was nice for two high school friends like you to reconnect on a new level. Eddie even joins you in trashing Carol a bit too though now you feel you might actually owe that thieving venom spitting cobra of a woman a little thank you.

What were the chances of this all happening? the both of you in the same place at the same time, your branch giving way the exact moment he got closer to you? no sooner, no later. Whatever the reason might be, today feels kind of special.

"Sorry I messed up your vest", you hold up the bloody thing tentatively when he pulls up outside your house.

"You kidding? 's the best its ever looked. Pretty hardcore"

You giggle at that, part of you realizing that you don't want to leave his van, trying to stall and find a reason to stay a little longer and keep whatever this is becoming going.

Eddie looks back at you pensively as you do so.

He doesn't want you to leave either. He thinks about how absurdly fast he'd gone from securing a deal like any other day to having his nose buried in your panties out of nowhere. If he doesn't act just as fast he might never get this opportunity again.

"Y' know, I wouldn't mind seeing even more of you next time", he smiles, somehow coming on more sweetly suave than sleazy like you would find any other man who would say so.

"Eddie Munson, you hound", you play scold him back, swatting him gently on the arm. Any excuse to touch him. You can't help noticing how nice and firm it feels under that dark layer of leather.

Honestly, Eddie's a little surprised himself that his charm's actually working too but manages to keep it up.

"So, what do you say? dinner? movie?", he suggests hopefully.

"Sure. Dinner, movie and then, when you come back to mine, maybe we can pick up where we left off from when I was on top of you", you wink back.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, idiot friends to lovers, not exactly a meet cute because they already know each other but it's also not not a naughty little meet cute if you get me, face sitting, 69 just not in the way you might think(yet), lots of horny flirting, mentions of blood, minor injury and one tiny meta reference I couldn't help but slip in. WC: 2K

Say what you will about Carol Perkins but the girl's got one hell of an arm. You stare with simmering contempt in your eyes at your purse wedged between the branches of an old, towering hickory several many feet above your head.

You're not surprised by it though. You expected some kind of retaliation after your little spat when you caught her trying to shoplift lip gloss at the cosmetics counter you worked at.

Word travelled fast after that, everyone snickering about how she tried to pull a Winona. Unfortunately for you, the incident wasn't enough to make her swear off five finger discounts. Her sticky little fingers managed to get hold of your purse when you had your back turned for only a few seconds the next day, a crudely scrawled note left behind which read, Come to the woods behind the school if you want your knock off Gucci back.

So you went there anticipating some fight club type of shit to go down. You really couldn't rule that out with a person like Carol, an old school bully to many who went to Hawkins High, especially those unlucky enough to have actually felt the fiery sting of her open palm against their cheek.

Only you were kind of looking forward to this meeting. Now a graduate and a little fired up yourself, you didn't need to worry about anything like a potential expulsion if you were to strike her back, fixing the rings on your fingers so that if you needed to, you could scratch open her chin when you uppercut the bitch.

But Carol wasn't there, a little to your disappointment. Only her handiwork left behind for you to deal with.

So now here you were, a crackling carpet of brittle yellowed and browned leaves crunching under your converse as you try to figure out the best way to go about retrieving your purse, hoping she hadn't also swiped any of the money inside it.

Looking around, you can't seem to spot a stick long enough to try and dislodge it, all of them far too short and skinny like bony witch fingers. The few rocks you try to aim at the thing missed every time too, purse still firmly in place.

So, you knew what needed to be done.

It's been a while since you last scaled a tree but you haven't forgotten how, hiking the skirt of your flared midi dress higher up your thighs while you reach for the closest branch, dry bark crumbling in your palms.

You're as careful as can be, taking your time to test every branch before you bear your full weight down on it, winding your way higher and higher up the thick gray trunk as you remind yourself to not look down.

Sweat beads down your back making your dress stick to your skin and your hands began to feel raw halfway through the climb so the relief you feel when you finally reach your purse is immense. Freeing one hand to pop open the clasp, you're able to confirm that Carol had in fact pinched a 50 which you very much intend to get back with interest before you toss her purse into the middle of lovers lake.

Clamping your teeth down on your purse, you begin your descent, following the exact path you took to get up it only you make it just a few inches lower when you hear a distinct dry snap followed by the shifty sound of footsteps. Two sets of footsteps making their way through the fallen leaves in fact.

Quietly, you sit yourself down on a thick branch that looks strong enough to hold you up, your legs dangling as you try to remain hidden behind the greener leaves yet to turn a shriveled yellow and break off from its branches. The thought of being caught like this is something you're not keen on. Especially at the risk of giving whoever it is an unobstructed up skirt view of your panties.

You hold your breath until they comes into view, recognition dawning on you when you set your eyes on the familiar combo of leather and denim and a very distinct tumbleweed of wild hair.

Eddie Munson, your old classmate and some letter jacket meat slab following in tow. The two of them sit across from each other at the formerly vacant wooden table and bench below, the tinny sound of Eddie's lunchbox echoing all the way up to your ears when he sets it down between them.

You watch quietly and closely at them going back and forth when Eddie quotes his price for a considerably large portion of the devil's lettuce all wrapped up in a thin, flimsy little plastic bag, a little amused seeing him all business and no jokes or smiles. There must be a party happening tonight, you deduce, that much weed too much for just the one person, even for a guy as big and hulking as Eddie's new customer.

The meat slab is the first to leave after digging through his pockets for a few extra dollars until Eddie hands him the stuff, trudging away through the crisp layer of dried up leaves until his footsteps turn muffled and then completely silent to let you know that he's no longer in the woods.

Eddie lingers for a few moments, apparently in no kind of rush as he takes his time closing up the lunch box, pulling out a cigarette and lighter as he gets up from the bench, just about to pass by your tree when-

crack!

The branch you'd perched yourself on wasn't as strong as you thought it to be when it snaps, a choked scream stuck in your throat with your teeth still wrapped around your purse when you lose your balance, your eyes squeezing shut as you plummet.

The impact knocks the wind out of you at first. Luckily you hadn't hit any of the other branches on your way down but a pulsing dull ache weaves it's way through your muscles, your palms and knees dirty and scraped up but your face seems to have landed on something much softer.

When you try to pick yourself up, you find yourself face to face with a pair of black denim jeans, the zipper somehow upside down as your hands press down on a pair of meaty thighs while you try to steady yourself.

You rock back just a bit, still trying to figure it all out with your head all spinny when feel your clothed pussy come to rest on something hard, a puff of hot air blown right into your panties with a muffled exclamation sounding out.

The way you scramble away is almost comical, so frantic like a severed gecko's tail when you figure out that you'd fallen right on top of Eddie, your face in his crotch and his in yours.

"Oh my god oh my god, I didn't mean to- are you okay? Eddie I'm so sorry!"

He's far less jittery than you are, propping himself up on his elbows with a little groan, leaves tangled in his hair, his lunchbox knocked onto its side behind him. The fall had made him bite his cigarette in two, one end lying on the forest floor before it's joined by the other when Eddie spits it out of his mouth. You manage to find his lighter nearby, picking it up and handing it back to him.

"Still in one piece", he pats his chest and he huffs a laugh, placing the lighter back inside his jacket pocket. "Could get used to this. It's not everyday that it rains pretty women."

The flirt. Just as he'd been with you in high school though you're not sure whether to be charmed or embarrassed given the circumstances. So both emotions manage to sneak in before you can decide on which one.

"I- my purse- Carol, see she tried to shoplift, right? I caught her and so my purse-", you find it just behind you, holding it up in front of Eddie's face as you continue to explain. "She lifted it before I could notice and she tossed it all the way up there," you point up at the spot you fell down from. "I slipped. I tried to stay quiet while you were busy but the branch broke and my foot slipped and..."

And what? "I'm sorry I sat on your face, Eddie? It won't happen again?" God, you felt so stupid right now.

"Woah woah, take a breath. It's not like I'm going to press charges or anything", he assures you.

You knew he wouldn't do anything of the sort. Eddie was always nice to you. Still is it seems, even after you so rudely and abruptly body slammed into him so damn hard. Maybe your luck's starting to turn. Or maybe it's just because he's in a good mood after a big sale... Yeah, that must be it.

Feeling a little better about the whole thing, you manage to get yourself back on to your feet even if a little unsteadily, holding a hand out to Eddie so you can help him up too. He accepts it at first but when his eyes fall to your knees his hand slips free from yours.

"You're bleeding", he notices.

Looking down, you see that he's right, two open cuts on both knees. Nothing serious but the blood is yet to clot, trailing down your legs in thin red lines and staining your socks.

You don't have anything on you to help dab it with, looking around when Eddie begins to shed his denim vest.

"It's clean, promise. Took it out of the laundry this morning"

The gesture is so sweet, watching him attentively as he kneels at your feet. You attempt to help too, picking the leaves out of his hair because it's the least you could do while he carefully cleans away the dirt on your skin. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your calf to steady himself is nice too, pressing the denim against your wounds so gently that you barely hiss at the sting.

"Doesn't look too bad. That's a good thing. You always had nice legs".

Your face could not feel any hotter than it already feels right now. At this angle, he might even be able to catch another glimpse or two up your skirt again but this time you don't mind at all. He's earned it.

"Thanks", you tell him with a smile, your toes curling in your socks because there's something so nice about being taken care of after the the whole thing with Carol that it makes you want to shiver with delight.

In the past you knew not to take him too seriously just in case he was only being nice to you but at the same time, Eddie was never one to be shy or less than honest about what he thought or said. Maybe you just had trouble accepting that and in turn, accepting that you were more than deserving of that kind of attention.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this. I could give you a ride if you're cool with that", he offers when he looks back up at you, the deep brown of his eyes now a light cinnamon with the sun spilling down on his face from between the branches.

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate that", you accept eagerly.

The drive back to yours is more than pleasant, though you'd never actually lost touch it was nice for two high school friends like you to reconnect on a new level. Eddie even joins you in trashing Carol a bit too though now you feel you might actually owe that thieving venom spitting cobra of a woman a little thank you.

What were the chances of this all happening? the both of you in the same place at the same time, your branch giving way the exact moment he got closer to you? no sooner, no later. Whatever the reason might be, today feels kind of special.

"Sorry I messed up your vest", you hold up the bloody thing tentatively when he pulls up outside your house.

"You kidding? 's the best its ever looked. Pretty hardcore"

You giggle at that, part of you realizing that you don't want to leave his van, trying to stall and find a reason to stay a little longer and keep whatever this is becoming going.

Eddie looks back at you pensively as you do so.

He doesn't want you to leave either. He thinks about how absurdly fast he'd gone from securing a deal like any other day to having his nose buried in your panties out of nowhere. If he doesn't act just as fast he might never get this opportunity again.

"Y' know, I wouldn't mind seeing even more of you next time", he smiles, somehow coming on more sweetly suave than sleazy like you would find any other man who would say so.

"Eddie Munson, you hound", you play scold him back, swatting him gently on the arm. Any excuse to touch him. You can't help noticing how nice and firm it feels under that dark layer of leather.

Honestly, Eddie's a little surprised himself that his charm's actually working too but manages to keep it up.

"So, what do you say? dinner? movie?", he suggests hopefully.

"Sure. Dinner, movie and then, when you come back to mine, maybe we can pick up where we left off from when I was on top of you", you wink back.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, idiot friends to lovers, not exactly a meet cute because they already know each other but it's also not not a naughty little meet cute if you get me, face sitting, 69 just not in the way you might think(yet), lots of horny flirting, mentions of blood, minor injury and one tiny meta reference I couldn't help but slip in. WC: 2K

Say what you will about Carol Perkins but the girl's got one hell of an arm. You stare with simmering contempt in your eyes at your purse wedged between the branches of an old, towering hickory several many feet above your head.

You're not surprised by it though. You expected some kind of retaliation after your little spat when you caught her trying to shoplift lip gloss at the cosmetics counter you worked at.

Word travelled fast after that, everyone snickering about how she tried to pull a Winona. Unfortunately for you, the incident wasn't enough to make her swear off five finger discounts. Her sticky little fingers managed to get hold of your purse when you had your back turned for only a few seconds the next day, a crudely scrawled note left behind which read, Come to the woods behind the school if you want your knock off Gucci back.

So you went there anticipating some fight club type of shit to go down. You really couldn't rule that out with a person like Carol, an old school bully to many who went to Hawkins High, especially those unlucky enough to have actually felt the fiery sting of her open palm against their cheek.

Only you were kind of looking forward to this meeting. Now a graduate and a little fired up yourself, you didn't need to worry about anything like a potential expulsion if you were to strike her back, fixing the rings on your fingers so that if you needed to, you could scratch open her chin when you uppercut the bitch.

But Carol wasn't there, a little to your disappointment. Only her handiwork left behind for you to deal with.

So now here you were, a crackling carpet of brittle yellowed and browned leaves crunching under your converse as you try to figure out the best way to go about retrieving your purse, hoping she hadn't also swiped any of the money inside it.

Looking around, you can't seem to spot a stick long enough to try and dislodge it, all of them far too short and skinny like bony witch fingers. The few rocks you try to aim at the thing missed every time too, purse still firmly in place.

So, you knew what needed to be done.

It's been a while since you last scaled a tree but you haven't forgotten how, hiking the skirt of your flared midi dress higher up your thighs while you reach for the closest branch, dry bark crumbling in your palms.

You're as careful as can be, taking your time to test every branch before you bear your full weight down on it, winding your way higher and higher up the thick gray trunk as you remind yourself to not look down.

Sweat beads down your back making your dress stick to your skin and your hands began to feel raw halfway through the climb so the relief you feel when you finally reach your purse is immense. Freeing one hand to pop open the clasp, you're able to confirm that Carol had in fact pinched a 50 which you very much intend to get back with interest before you toss her purse into the middle of lovers lake.

Clamping your teeth down on your purse, you begin your descent, following the exact path you took to get up it only you make it just a few inches lower when you hear a distinct dry snap followed by the shifty sound of footsteps. Two sets of footsteps making their way through the fallen leaves in fact.

Quietly, you sit yourself down on a thick branch that looks strong enough to hold you up, your legs dangling as you try to remain hidden behind the greener leaves yet to turn a shriveled yellow and break off from its branches. The thought of being caught like this is something you're not keen on. Especially at the risk of giving whoever it is an unobstructed up skirt view of your panties.

You hold your breath until they comes into view, recognition dawning on you when you set your eyes on the familiar combo of leather and denim and a very distinct tumbleweed of wild hair.

Eddie Munson, your old classmate and some letter jacket meat slab following in tow. The two of them sit across from each other at the formerly vacant wooden table and bench below, the tinny sound of Eddie's lunchbox echoing all the way up to your ears when he sets it down between them.

You watch quietly and closely at them going back and forth when Eddie quotes his price for a considerably large portion of the devil's lettuce all wrapped up in a thin, flimsy little plastic bag, a little amused seeing him all business and no jokes or smiles. There must be a party happening tonight, you deduce, that much weed too much for just the one person, even for a guy as big and hulking as Eddie's new customer.

The meat slab is the first to leave after digging through his pockets for a few extra dollars until Eddie hands him the stuff, trudging away through the crisp layer of dried up leaves until his footsteps turn muffled and then completely silent to let you know that he's no longer in the woods.

Eddie lingers for a few moments, apparently in no kind of rush as he takes his time closing up the lunch box, pulling out a cigarette and lighter as he gets up from the bench, just about to pass by your tree when-

crack!

The branch you'd perched yourself on wasn't as strong as you thought it to be when it snaps, a choked scream stuck in your throat with your teeth still wrapped around your purse when you lose your balance, your eyes squeezing shut as you plummet.

The impact knocks the wind out of you at first. Luckily you hadn't hit any of the other branches on your way down but a pulsing dull ache weaves it's way through your muscles, your palms and knees dirty and scraped up but your face seems to have landed on something much softer.

When you try to pick yourself up, you find yourself face to face with a pair of black denim jeans, the zipper somehow upside down as your hands press down on a pair of meaty thighs while you try to steady yourself.

You rock back just a bit, still trying to figure it all out with your head all spinny when feel your clothed pussy come to rest on something hard, a puff of hot air blown right into your panties with a muffled exclamation sounding out.

The way you scramble away is almost comical, so frantic like a severed gecko's tail when you figure out that you'd fallen right on top of Eddie, your face in his crotch and his in yours.

"Oh my god oh my god, I didn't mean to- are you okay? Eddie I'm so sorry!"

He's far less jittery than you are, propping himself up on his elbows with a little groan, leaves tangled in his hair, his lunchbox knocked onto its side behind him. The fall had made him bite his cigarette in two, one end lying on the forest floor before it's joined by the other when Eddie spits it out of his mouth. You manage to find his lighter nearby, picking it up and handing it back to him.

"Still in one piece", he pats his chest and he huffs a laugh, placing the lighter back inside his jacket pocket. "Could get used to this. It's not everyday that it rains pretty women."

The flirt. Just as he'd been with you in high school though you're not sure whether to be charmed or embarrassed given the circumstances. So both emotions manage to sneak in before you can decide on which one.

"I- my purse- Carol, see she tried to shoplift, right? I caught her and so my purse-", you find it just behind you, holding it up in front of Eddie's face as you continue to explain. "She lifted it before I could notice and she tossed it all the way up there," you point up at the spot you fell down from. "I slipped. I tried to stay quiet while you were busy but the branch broke and my foot slipped and..."

And what? "I'm sorry I sat on your face, Eddie? It won't happen again?" God, you felt so stupid right now.

"Woah woah, take a breath. It's not like I'm going to press charges or anything", he assures you.

You knew he wouldn't do anything of the sort. Eddie was always nice to you. Still is it seems, even after you so rudely and abruptly body slammed into him so damn hard. Maybe your luck's starting to turn. Or maybe it's just because he's in a good mood after a big sale... Yeah, that must be it.

Feeling a little better about the whole thing, you manage to get yourself back on to your feet even if a little unsteadily, holding a hand out to Eddie so you can help him up too. He accepts it at first but when his eyes fall to your knees his hand slips free from yours.

"You're bleeding", he notices.

Looking down, you see that he's right, two open cuts on both knees. Nothing serious but the blood is yet to clot, trailing down your legs in thin red lines and staining your socks.

You don't have anything on you to help dab it with, looking around when Eddie begins to shed his denim vest.

"It's clean, promise. Took it out of the laundry this morning"

The gesture is so sweet, watching him attentively as he kneels at your feet. You attempt to help too, picking the leaves out of his hair because it's the least you could do while he carefully cleans away the dirt on your skin. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your calf to steady himself is nice too, pressing the denim against your wounds so gently that you barely hiss at the sting.

"Doesn't look too bad. That's a good thing. You always had nice legs".

Your face could not feel any hotter than it already feels right now. At this angle, he might even be able to catch another glimpse or two up your skirt again but this time you don't mind at all. He's earned it.

"Thanks", you tell him with a smile, your toes curling in your socks because there's something so nice about being taken care of after the the whole thing with Carol that it makes you want to shiver with delight.

In the past you knew not to take him too seriously just in case he was only being nice to you but at the same time, Eddie was never one to be shy or less than honest about what he thought or said. Maybe you just had trouble accepting that and in turn, accepting that you were more than deserving of that kind of attention.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this. I could give you a ride if you're cool with that", he offers when he looks back up at you, the deep brown of his eyes now a light cinnamon with the sun spilling down on his face from between the branches.

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate that", you accept eagerly.

The drive back to yours is more than pleasant, though you'd never actually lost touch it was nice for two high school friends like you to reconnect on a new level. Eddie even joins you in trashing Carol a bit too though now you feel you might actually owe that thieving venom spitting cobra of a woman a little thank you.

What were the chances of this all happening? the both of you in the same place at the same time, your branch giving way the exact moment he got closer to you? no sooner, no later. Whatever the reason might be, today feels kind of special.

"Sorry I messed up your vest", you hold up the bloody thing tentatively when he pulls up outside your house.

"You kidding? 's the best its ever looked. Pretty hardcore"

You giggle at that, part of you realizing that you don't want to leave his van, trying to stall and find a reason to stay a little longer and keep whatever this is becoming going.

Eddie looks back at you pensively as you do so.

He doesn't want you to leave either. He thinks about how absurdly fast he'd gone from securing a deal like any other day to having his nose buried in your panties out of nowhere. If he doesn't act just as fast he might never get this opportunity again.

"Y' know, I wouldn't mind seeing even more of you next time", he smiles, somehow coming on more sweetly suave than sleazy like you would find any other man who would say so.

"Eddie Munson, you hound", you play scold him back, swatting him gently on the arm. Any excuse to touch him. You can't help noticing how nice and firm it feels under that dark layer of leather.

Honestly, Eddie's a little surprised himself that his charm's actually working too but manages to keep it up.

"So, what do you say? dinner? movie?", he suggests hopefully.

"Sure. Dinner, movie and then, when you come back to mine, maybe we can pick up where we left off from when I was on top of you", you wink back.

[cherrychilli]

18+Steve Harrington x f! reader, established relationship, young adult runaways, starting over, shitty parents, tiny bit of angst. Just a drop. WC: 1K Summary: Steve yearns for a fresh start. So do you. Somewhere new. Somewhere right for the two of you. But before that, he has something very important to take care of until it's time for the two of you to hit the road.

A/N: This little scene has been munching on my brain for the past week now ever since I came across the picture on the right. Had to write it out so I can finally drive it out (of me). Enjoy!

The craggy rock you hand him requires both hands to pick up and hold, a soft, patchy layer of moss caking your palms and fingers when you look back down at your empty hands.

"Yeah, this'll do," Steve tells you, ducking his head to reach inside his car, placing the cold, black stone on top of the accelerator pedal which makes the maroon beamer whir.

The brakes are still on, cloudy puffs of white smoke spilling out of the exhaust pipe.

"You're absolutely sure, right?", you check one last time, biting the inside of your cheek.

Steve turns to look at you. He isn't irritated despite the many times you've asked him this very question. He knows you're only trying to be considerate. He knows that you're only trying to make sure that he doesn't come to regret his decision.

So he steps away from the noisy, stationary vehicle until he's able to place his warm palms on your cheeks, leaning closer so he can slant his lips over yours.

"This is what I want. I'm absolutely sure of it, baby", he tells you when your lips separate with a little smack, picking off a spec of moss that'd made it on to your jaw from under his thumb.

You smile back at him. You just needed to hear it one more time and now that you have, you're ready for what's to come next.

"Okay. So, shall we?", you cock your head towards his car. The one that'd been gifted to him by his parents though not out of love or anything akin to it.

His father had forbade him from driving around in "whatever shit heap", Steve might have set his hopes on, taking great offence at the thought of his son causing the family any kind of embarrassment.

"We're better. Always. And we will conduct ourselves as such," his father had seethed at him from across the dinner table, pointing his fork, (the finest silverware of course) in Steve's direction, it's prongs juicy from his filet mignon cooked to a bloody rare.

So, with the shiny new BMW came strings as thick as piano wire. His parents tugging tugging tugging on them to puppeteer their son this way and that, though they were seldom ever satisfied. Even when Steve would bend over backwards of his own accord for them it was never enough. No kind of gymnastics could win their approval, he learned.

Now here he was with you, someone who he never had to prove himself to on the bank of lover's lake as he steps over the remains of the pricey watch his mother had pressured him to wear for the same reasons that his father had bought him the car. Steve had stomped the heel of his converse down on the timepiece 10 minutes ago when it stopped ticking once and for all, it's now crooked, fractured hands frozen at 9.18AM behind shattered glass.

Steve reaches in one last time to pull back on the hand brake and steps back, his fingers weaving in with yours as you both watched.

The car takes off and rolls forward swiftly, splashing into the water with a booming clap, tire tracks etched in the soft sand as the car travels further and sinks deeper. Steve watches on unblinking as it takes on water, mucky, opaque waves sloshing around and drowning the leather upholstery.

As far as he's concerned the thing's nothing more than fish food now, the front finally sinking deep enough under water to get wedged in the muddy riverbed. The trunk is the only thing sticking out above the water now, the engine sputtering to a stop as gentle waves lap away at the useless thing.

In it, he gladly leaves behind every memory of all the times he spent alone in that car and the night time drives he took in it, sore, red eyes and tears he couldn't shed inside his own home rolling down his soggy cheeks after every dispute with his high strung parents.

Even though he'd taken refuge in that car many a night, he still hated the damn thing, a constant reminder of how he was never enough for them. The thought that he might never be free of them scratched at the inside of his skull everyday as he drove around in a four wheeled spiderweb he wished to untangle himself from.

So severing those ties today was more than necessary, marking the end of his latest chapter. On with the new.

His bags are packed, just like yours in the trunk of the little butter yellow Volkswagen Beetle you'd saved up for and bought second hand with your own money and fixed up. You had to compromise too though of course. The paint job was a little patchy if you looked at it a little too long and the engine sometimes needed a few tries to get it going but the bug practically flew down the freeway when you needed it to. Perfect for long distance travel.

To Steve, your car meant something that his hadn't. It didn't carry any kind of strings to twist and turn you with like some kind of sad marionette. You drove it around free from any kind of expectations. And you didn't have to shoulder the fear that one slight misstep would cost you. You didn't have anyone in your life who would come down on you hard if you were ever seen driving around with so much as a little dent or a little scratch like his parents would. You were completely unburdened that way. He considered you so lucky.

With the sun shining down on you, you hand Steve the keys, letting him take over the wheel while you take over passenger princess duties with your shades pulled on. It was half his now anyway. You hadn't said so out loud but you know that he knew it too.

He sticks the key into the ignition, your car rumbling to a start, the radio coming alive. 'Let them say we're crazy, I don't care about that. Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back...'

The battered, paling 'Now Leaving Hawkins' sign is just a few meters ahead. He's looking forward to seeing it shrink down to a pin point in the rearview mirror as he puts some much needed distance between you two and Hawkins for good.

So, Steve slips his own shades on too, a hopeful smile growing on his lips.

"Alright, doll. Let's blow this pop stand."

[cherrychilli]

18+Steve Harrington x f! reader, established relationship, young adult runaways, starting over, shitty parents, tiny bit of angst. Just a drop. WC: 1K Summary: Steve yearns for a fresh start. So do you. Somewhere new. Somewhere right for the two of you. But before that, he has something very important to take care of until it's time for the two of you to hit the road.

A/N: This little scene has been munching on my brain for the past week now ever since I came across the picture on the right. Had to write it out so I can finally drive it out (of me). Enjoy!

The craggy rock you hand him requires both hands to pick up and hold, a soft, patchy layer of moss caking your palms and fingers when you look back down at your empty hands.

"Yeah, this'll do," Steve tells you, ducking his head to reach inside his car, placing the cold, black stone on top of the accelerator pedal which makes the maroon beamer whir.

The brakes are still on, cloudy puffs of white smoke spilling out of the exhaust pipe.

"You're absolutely sure, right?", you check one last time, biting the inside of your cheek.

Steve turns to look at you. He isn't irritated despite the many times you've asked him this very question. He knows you're only trying to be considerate. He knows that you're only trying to make sure that he doesn't come to regret his decision.

So he steps away from the noisy, stationary vehicle until he's able to place his warm palms on your cheeks, leaning closer so he can slant his lips over yours.

"This is what I want. I'm absolutely sure of it, baby", he tells you when your lips separate with a little smack, picking off a spec of moss that'd made it on to your jaw from under his thumb.

You smile back at him. You just needed to hear it one more time and now that you have, you're ready for what's to come next.

"Okay. So, shall we?", you cock your head towards his car. The one that'd been gifted to him by his parents though not out of love or anything akin to it.

His father had forbade him from driving around in "whatever shit heap", Steve might have set his hopes on, taking great offence at the thought of his son causing the family any kind of embarrassment.

"We're better. Always. And we will conduct ourselves as such," his father had seethed at him from across the dinner table, pointing his fork, (the finest silverware of course) in Steve's direction, it's prongs juicy from his filet mignon cooked to a bloody rare.

So, with the shiny new BMW came strings as thick as piano wire. His parents tugging tugging tugging on them to puppeteer their son this way and that, though they were seldom ever satisfied. Even when Steve would bend over backwards of his own accord for them it was never enough. No kind of gymnastics could win their approval, he learned.

Now here he was with you, someone who he never had to prove himself to on the bank of lover's lake as he steps over the remains of the pricey watch his mother had pressured him to wear for the same reasons that his father had bought him the car. Steve had stomped the heel of his converse down on the timepiece 10 minutes ago when it stopped ticking once and for all, it's now crooked, fractured hands frozen at 9.18AM behind shattered glass.

Steve reaches in one last time to pull back on the hand brake and steps back, his fingers weaving in with yours as you both watched.

The car takes off and rolls forward swiftly, splashing into the water with a booming clap, tire tracks etched in the soft sand as the car travels further and sinks deeper. Steve watches on unblinking as it takes on water, mucky, opaque waves sloshing around and drowning the leather upholstery.

As far as he's concerned the thing's nothing more than fish food now, the front finally sinking deep enough under water to get wedged in the muddy riverbed. The trunk is the only thing sticking out above the water now, the engine sputtering to a stop as gentle waves lap away at the useless thing.

In it, he gladly leaves behind every memory of all the times he spent alone in that car and the night time drives he took in it, sore, red eyes and tears he couldn't shed inside his own home rolling down his soggy cheeks after every dispute with his high strung parents.

Even though he'd taken refuge in that car many a night, he still hated the damn thing, a constant reminder of how he was never enough for them. The thought that he might never be free of them scratched at the inside of his skull everyday as he drove around in a four wheeled spiderweb he wished to untangle himself from.

So severing those ties today was more than necessary, marking the end of his latest chapter. On with the new.

His bags are packed, just like yours in the trunk of the little butter yellow Volkswagen Beetle you'd saved up for and bought second hand with your own money and fixed up. You had to compromise too though of course. The paint job was a little patchy if you looked at it a little too long and the engine sometimes needed a few tries to get it going but the bug practically flew down the freeway when you needed it to. Perfect for long distance travel.

To Steve, your car meant something that his hadn't. It didn't carry any kind of strings to twist and turn you with like some kind of sad marionette. You drove it around free from any kind of expectations. And you didn't have to shoulder the fear that one slight misstep would cost you. You didn't have anyone in your life who would come down on you hard if you were ever seen driving around with so much as a little dent or a little scratch like his parents would. You were completely unburdened that way. He considered you so lucky.

With the sun shining down on you, you hand Steve the keys, letting him take over the wheel while you take over passenger princess duties with your shades pulled on. It was half his now anyway. You hadn't said so out loud but you know that he knew it too.

He sticks the key into the ignition, your car rumbling to a start, the radio coming alive. 'Let them say we're crazy, I don't care about that. Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back...'

The battered, paling 'Now Leaving Hawkins' sign is just a few meters ahead. He's looking forward to seeing it shrink down to a pin point in the rearview mirror as he puts some much needed distance between you two and Hawkins for good.

So, Steve slips his own shades on too, a hopeful smile growing on his lips.

"Alright, doll. Let's blow this pop stand."

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, neighbor! reader, friends to lovers, use of sex toy, chastity belt, mentions of virginity, sexual scenarios, implied PIV, implied loss of virginity WC:2.5K

Summary: What happens when you head over next door to seek your neighbor's help with a very intimate and unusual problem? a whole lot of repressed feelings are finally shared. And there's sex stuff too, duh.

Extended ending

It's the kind of decision that you didn't arrive at easily. Quite frankly, you feel you'd much rather down a cup of iron nails and let them shred your body from the inside on the way down, but that wouldn't fix your problem.

No, you were utterly fucked and you desperately needed help.

So, with one shaky step after the other, you approach your neighbor's trailer, stepping up to the door and realizing this is the closest you've been to it in a long time.

The temperature's perfectly balmy outside. Most folks have their laundry hung out, gently flapping in the wind but everything inside you is frigid cold. It takes you a couple of minutes to thaw your frozen limbs on his doorstep, raising your hand and rolling your fingers into a loose fist before tapping your knuckles against the door thrice.

Seconds pass and before you can attempt to knock again you hear some kind of commotion deeper inside the trailer, a bunch of dull thuds sounding out before you pick up on the sound of footsteps approaching.

You take a quick step back, pulling your ear away from the door and you weave your fingers together, holding them tightly down the front of your skirt.

No going back now.

When Eddie Munson pulls open the door in his sweats and a wrinkled band tee he's obviously pulled on in a hurry, everything starts to feel way too real for your liking.

You figure he must have been lounging in his underwear again. You know this because his curtains don't close all the way, leading to you catching glimpses of his bare chest and stomach from your own bedroom. Not that you ever meant to look. No, not at all.

"Uh hi, Eddie", you manage to string a few words together, your tongue feeling like you've barely got any control over it at all with the way it feels so limp and cotton dry in your mouth.

He doesn't answer, looking at you curiously and you worry if it's because he doesn't recall you despite the both of you having grown up in the trailer park and attending the same school. You ran in different circles sure, but you always made sure to say hi and wave politely at your neighbor whenever you saw him, even after you began to see less of him when you made it into College and he is yet to be awarded the high school diploma that keeps evading him.

"Oh I'm-"

"I know", he cuts you off. Abrupt but not rude.

"Right, so I came by because...well, I need your help."

He squints his eyes at you this time, almost like he's trying to solve a puzzle in his head.

"Didn't take you for the reefer type", his lips slant into a half smile, the dimple on his right cheek drawing your attention.

"What? Oh no, that's not why I came over" you quickly correct him though you can't blame him for thinking so. Everyone knows the grass is greenest at the Munson trailer, so to speak, and with the two of you not exactly being the closest of friends, you can't fault him for making the assumption.

"So, how can I help you then?"

"Actually it's kind of a delicate topic. Can I come in? I promise I can explain."

Come in?

And for reasons other than to score some drugs?

Eddie would never admit it out loud but no other girl has ever asked this of him before and he hopes it doesn't show because he's absolutely stumped, not really knowing how to react.

It's when he can't help but crumble under the weight of your doe eyes that he pulls the door open enough for you to squeeze by him with the sweetest smile on your lips. Turning you away, not that he'd want to, but the thought of turning you away felt much too akin to kicking a baby bunny.

You see the couch and you step over to it, your eyes wandering all over the trailer on your way. It's a little chaotic sure but you spy some order here and there, intrigued by the row of hats and mugs displayed neatly on the wall, wondering how long it must have taken them to amass the whole collection.

"So, you were saying that you need my help?"

You turn around, nearly colliding with the little Garfield mug he holds out to you. "Oh, thank you", you take it, looking inside to see a fizzy circle of grape soda inside bubbling back at you.

"Seen you having it at school a few times", he let's you know before you have a chance to ask him how he knew about your favorite drink.

Guess you weren't the only one occasionally sneaking a peek from a distance.

"Wow, that's so thoughtful", you smile at him again, noticing the way his cheeks pink up when he averts his eyes with a grunt to clear his throat.

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

You have a few sips as you sit down on the couch, sinking into the cushion. Now that you're inside, that sickening feeling slithers inside your body again and you start to go cold like before, placing the mug down on the table carefully, looking Eddie in the eye while he stands opposite you.

You gulp hard. "The reason I came over is because I did something...I did something really stupid and I need someone to help me who'll also be discreet about it. Please, Eddie. You have to promise me you won't tell."

Seeing you practically begging, seeing the way you look up at him like he's the only one who can help, like he's the only one you want to help you hits him right in the chest. And a little below the waistband of his sweats too but he files that thought away for later.

As much as he wants to say yes he needs to know more.

"Listen if you're in some kind of trouble or if you're-"

"No no it's nothing like that!"

"Okay, but I need to know what it is that I'm saying yes to."

That's reasonable. Entirely reasonable but your face falls into your open palms. You wish you could scream into them than have to bear the embarrassment you're about to cause yourself.

"Okay okay", you spring up onto your feet before you lose your nerve, standing right in front of him with your forehead nearly brushing his chin. "I need your help getting this off."

Quickly, you pull up your skirt to let him see what's underneath, his wide, terrified eyes flicking to and away from between your legs, not sure if he should actually be looking there despite you voluntarily baring yourself to him.

It's not everyday that a pretty girl comes by to flash him in the comfort of his own home.

When Eddie does manage to settle down somewhat he looks closer, taking in the thick black leather straps wrapped around you, studded with silver accents and your white cotton panties underneath which show through a cut out in the shape of a heart right above your mound.

"Please. I lost the key and I can't get the damn thing off. I've seen you working on your van with your tools. There must be something in there that you can use, right?"

Eddie's head is spinning, unable to stop focusing on your crotch and what he recognizes as a chastity belt from one of those BDSM magazines hidden under his bed wrapped around you.

"Why did you-"

You sigh. "I was checking to see if it fit because I wanted to wear it for someone I was dating", you admit with some disdain.

Eddie knows exactly who, sharing in your disdain.

"Danny Vaugh", Eddie says with a clear note of contempt, his tongue turning sour at the mention of his name. Skeezy little fucker who liked to test his luck by getting behind the wheel after a couple of beers and making out with a different girl at every party whether he had a girlfriend of his own waiting for him or not.

Eddie doesn't know what you ever saw in him, if at all.

"Right", you sigh, the regret clouding your whole face and with it, whatever feelings of embarrassment or shame are forced out, no longer afraid to just tell Eddie the truth.

"Yeah, well he dumped me. I wasn't ready to have sex and he was sick of dating a virgin." Watching the hurt register on your face made Eddie want nothing more than to introduce Danny to his ring clad fist. Repeatedly.

"So I saw this thing online and I don't know... a part of me thought he'd be into it? give him the key and let him finally have me or whatever. But a little while ago I heard that he's already moved on. With some girl in the same class as me too...that's so like him. And I've been locked in this fucking thing for the last three and a half hours. Please, I really need it off."

"That's... wow", he blinks, stunned. Not usually one to be at a loss for words but this was wild even for him.

"Yeah, so can you help me or not?"

--

You never would have thought you'd be in this position. Your skirt off while you sit down on the edge of Eddie Munson's bed, your legs spread for him as he kneels between them, trying his best to figure out which angle to tackle this problem from.

He's got a tool box to his left, all manner and sorts stored inside. Some of them you recognize and most of them you don't.

"Alright, so I think the best way would be to get this padlock off", he taps the heart shaped cut out and you feel it right on your mound. It's worse for him because this close it's hard for Eddie to remain professional when he can see your pussy clenching underneath the thin cotton barrier of your panties.

"So, what are you gonna use?" you ask him, throat scratchy and nervous when you eye a hammer and the sharp teeth of a saw laying among the tools.

"Don't worry. Got just the thing."

His hand dips into the tool box, sorting through it for nearly a minute.

"Got it", he smiles, pulling out something you hadn't anticipated.

"A safety pin?", you ask, confused.

Eddie chuckles at your reaction, his hands already on the padlock on your hip.

"Gonna pick it. Don't worry, I've done this a thousand times", he assures you. He bends the pin out of it's usual shape, twisting and pulling until he seems satisfied with the end result. Carefully, he inserts the sharp end of the pin inside the keyhole on the lock, fiddling with it this way and that.

"Pretty cool you know how to do this stuff", you tell him sincerely, relieved he didn't opt to cut or hammer you out of the belt.

The praise goes straight to his blushing cheeks. He's so used to people passing judgement on him for knowing these kinds of things, thinking of him as some kind of irredeemable good for nothing with the skillset of a petty thief. Just like his father.

You don't think that of him though. He knows it by the way you treat him but with how nice you're being it's almost hard for Eddie to keep focus.

This whole situation reminds him of the kinds of things that only happened in the pages of his graphic novels. Blood drenched Knights slaying vicious dragons to save beautiful princesses who've been locked away. Princesses who liked to show their appreciation in a certain kind of way. Princesses who've never lain with anyone before, though that was about to change now that they've found someone honorable and worthy, eagerly offering themselves to their knights.

And here's one just perched on his bed, looking so captivated by the way he's trying to save you. Not that you were offering yourself to him, he reminded himself bleakly.

But the fantasy still lingered in his mind because that's all he ever had.

A little more of turning the pin this way and that and there's a click that gets the lock to pop open at last, earning a deep sigh of relief out of you.

Setting the pin aside, Eddie helps to take the chastity belt off of you, pulling the leather down and off over your feet, taking in the marks left behind on your skin in the shape of the dark leather.

He goes to return your skirt too but you take it from him and place it aside, in no hurry to dress yourself.

"I've spent an hour with you and you've already treated me better than Danny ever did."

A 'told you so' sits on the tip of his tongue but he doesn't let it go past his teeth. So he doesn't quite know what to say to that instead, blinking back at you with a little smile.

"You know, I regret not getting to know you better", you tell him and he can hear the sadness gripping your throat like phantom fingers bearing down on your windpipe.

"You didn't miss anything", he chuckles just to be nice. Anything to keep you from looking sad again.

You shake your head. "I mean it. If I knew you better I would have never bothered with people like Danny...'only let him take me out because I was lonely. Thought I couldn't do better than him and I settled", you admit it out loud for the very first time.

It feels wonderfully cathartic to let these thoughts spill out like you're purging all the poison that filled your belly. Every little lie you swallowed down, all the times you tried to convince yourself that you were happy with Danny now being forced out of your system, no longer clogging your mind and veins.

The admission makes Eddie gawk at you in pure disbelief. "I'm sorry, you thought you weren't good enough? please tell me you're joking."

It's your turn to chuckle this time.

"I don't know, I just never hit it off with any one before."

'Until now', you wanted to add as you bite your lip.

"Yeah well it's their loss", he mutters, closing up his tool box and shoving it aside.

"Hey, Eddie?"

He looks up at you again. "Yeah?"

Slowly, you spread your legs wider, drawing him closer until your knees frame his shoulders.

"You missed one", you lower your hand down to your underwear, pinching the waistband between your fingers and letting it snap back in place against your skin.

He nearly keels over when he notices the soft cushion of your bush peaking through.

"You want me to take it off?", he croaks like a helpless toad, fingers all twitchy with excitement.

"Could you?", you tip your head to the side and ask sweetly, a picture of innocence though you both know that's not entirely the case.

"Yeah, I can do that."

You lift your lower body off the bed to help him, watching carefully as he drags your panties down your thighs, over the curve of your calves and off your feet so he can pocket them for later.

"Fucking Christ you're beautiful", he lets out in awe.

"Bet you say that to all the girls", you giggle back.

"Nope. Not like this."

He's quite serious. You can feel it in the way he looks at you. Unlike the devil worshipper that they all claim he is, he kneels between your feet like he might at an altar.

Praying to you. Praying for you.

"Go on. Touch me", you grant him permission.

Eddie gladly but carefully pulls your pussy folds apart, one thumb pressing against your quivering hole which he watches clenching open and closed open and closed. It's so small, the opening. How was he going to fit anything inside you let alone his cock? He supposed he'd have to take his time and work you open, the thought making his skin buzz excitedly like static.

And his other thumb gently pulls up the hood to reveal your clit, this glossy little bead that makes his mouth water at the thought of sucking on it till he makes you gush all over his tongue. He can't help but get the impression that the poor thing's been neglected until now. That clown Danny definitely hadn't found it. And he never would have, not even with both hands and a map.

"Want you to show me how good it feels", you tell him, working your right foot between his legs to gently rub it along the ridge of his clothed erection.

An hour ago you were neighbors reacquainting with each other. Now, he's helped you through one of your worst moments, and you stayed, not only wanting to reward him for it but also because despite how spontaneous this all was, you finally feel ready.

Eddie notices the shift in you too, a sly smile pulling at his lips but his eyes remain gentle, "Oh, I'll show you so much more than that, I promise."

Extended ending

[cherrychilli]

Absolutely have to know if you're doing a part two for the Eddie and virgin reader chastity cage bit, because ough! It's incredible stuff.

Either way, thank you for writing it!

Thanks for reading!

So, I wrote it intending for it to be a oneshot and I'm going to keep it that way

but

I woke up this morning with an idea for an extended ending. Just a short scene but I think that's all that's really needed. Hope you like it💛

Everything's so delightfully sticky and wet.

It's all sore between your legs from where his spend drips down onto your thighs. A wonderful feeling you doubt you'll ever tire of.

You're glad you waited too. He couldn't have been more perfect with how he took care of you. Stretching you out with his thick, dexterous fingers. Making you cum with his tongue first before he fit his cock inside you, his hand holding yours. So many sweet whispers of 'I've got you', 'you're doing so well', and 'fuck, you feel incredible.'

Then suddenly, the afterglow crumbles.

Someone's at the door. Someone persistent because they don't let up with their insistent knocking. Both Eddie and you groan, forced to unstick yourselves from one another so he can pull on his pair of sweats once more. Before he goes he makes sure to turn back and reach for you, placing a kiss on your lips that makes your body fill with butterflies.

Walking out of the bedroom, he's half ready to cuss out whoever's knocking on his door, swiftly pulling the thing open only for Eddie to nearly stagger back.

Danny Vaughn. Danny Vaughn is at his doorstep.

"Finally. Listen Munson, I've got a girl waiting", he gestures at his car parked nearby. Convertible. Ferrari red. Douchey. "And I don't have much time. Need some blow if you've got it. Dirty thing, I talked her into letting me do a couple of lines off her tits", he winks at Eddie in that sickening bravado heavy kind of way. "Aint she classy?"

Eddie's eyes turn sharp. "Fresh out", he lies, stony faced with his fist clenched at his side

Danny's face twists with annoyance but only for a moment, taking in Eddie's shirtless state, his body dewy and the smell of sex clinging to his skin.

The prick puts two and two together, clapping a hand against Eddie's shoulder with a thick grin. "You dog. Got someone over don't you? didn't take you for the lady killer type."

If it weren't for the fact that Eddie and you were together now he would have had Danny's beaten, pulpy body to deal with on his doorstep. He restrains himself though, not wanting your first date to be spent visiting him in jail.

"Eddie, I'm going to fix myself a drink. You want one?"

The sound of your voice has Danny immediately straightening up like a meerkat, craning his neck to see you over Eddie's shoulder, passing by in nothing but the tee Eddie had been dressed in a couple hours ago. So blissful, you don't even notice your dick ex at the door.

"Sure. Surprise me", Eddie calls out with his eyes cemented on Danny's face. God, it is so satisfying to see the crestfallen look taking over his stupid face.

"Yeah, so as you can see I'm pretty busy", Eddie goes to close the door, shit eating grin wide on his face. "Got a good thing going on here so I don't want to keep her waiting. It'd be pretty fucking stupid to take a girl like that for granted" he tells Danny pointedly.

Happily, Eddie closes the door on Danny's shattered face, calmly making his way to the kitchenette where he finds you going through the fridge, looking all kinds of amazing in his clothes.

"Who was at the door?", you ask him when he comes by to wrap his arms around your waist from behind. He hasn't been this happy in a long time, half wondering what he'd done to deserve someone as good as you. The other half not caring why, only vowing to become everything you deserve and more.

"No one, baby. No one important."

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, neighbor! reader, friends to lovers, use of sex toy, chastity belt, mentions of virginity, sexual scenarios, implied PIV, implied loss of virginity WC:2.5K

Summary: What happens when you head over next door to seek your neighbor's help with a very intimate and unusual problem? a whole lot of repressed feelings are finally shared. And there's sex stuff too, duh.

Extended ending

It's the kind of decision that you didn't arrive at easily. Quite frankly, you feel you'd much rather down a cup of iron nails and let them shred your body from the inside on the way down, but that wouldn't fix your problem.

No, you were utterly fucked and you desperately needed help.

So, with one shaky step after the other, you approach your neighbor's trailer, stepping up to the door and realizing this is the closest you've been to it in a long time.

The temperature's perfectly balmy outside. Most folks have their laundry hung out, gently flapping in the wind but everything inside you is frigid cold. It takes you a couple of minutes to thaw your frozen limbs on his doorstep, raising your hand and rolling your fingers into a loose fist before tapping your knuckles against the door thrice.

Seconds pass and before you can attempt to knock again you hear some kind of commotion deeper inside the trailer, a bunch of dull thuds sounding out before you pick up on the sound of footsteps approaching.

You take a quick step back, pulling your ear away from the door and you weave your fingers together, holding them tightly down the front of your skirt.

No going back now.

When Eddie Munson pulls open the door in his sweats and a wrinkled band tee he's obviously pulled on in a hurry, everything starts to feel way too real for your liking.

You figure he must have been lounging in his underwear again. You know this because his curtains don't close all the way, leading to you catching glimpses of his bare chest and stomach from your own bedroom. Not that you ever meant to look. No, not at all.

"Uh hi, Eddie", you manage to string a few words together, your tongue feeling like you've barely got any control over it at all with the way it feels so limp and cotton dry in your mouth.

He doesn't answer, looking at you curiously and you worry if it's because he doesn't recall you despite the both of you having grown up in the trailer park and attending the same school. You ran in different circles sure, but you always made sure to say hi and wave politely at your neighbor whenever you saw him, even after you began to see less of him when you made it into College and he is yet to be awarded the high school diploma that keeps evading him.

"Oh I'm-"

"I know", he cuts you off. Abrupt but not rude.

"Right, so I came by because...well, I need your help."

He squints his eyes at you this time, almost like he's trying to solve a puzzle in his head.

"Didn't take you for the reefer type", his lips slant into a half smile, the dimple on his right cheek drawing your attention.

"What? Oh no, that's not why I came over" you quickly correct him though you can't blame him for thinking so. Everyone knows the grass is greenest at the Munson trailer, so to speak, and with the two of you not exactly being the closest of friends, you can't fault him for making the assumption.

"So, how can I help you then?"

"Actually it's kind of a delicate topic. Can I come in? I promise I can explain."

Come in?

And for reasons other than to score some drugs?

Eddie would never admit it out loud but no other girl has ever asked this of him before and he hopes it doesn't show because he's absolutely stumped, not really knowing how to react.

It's when he can't help but crumble under the weight of your doe eyes that he pulls the door open enough for you to squeeze by him with the sweetest smile on your lips. Turning you away, not that he'd want to, but the thought of turning you away felt much too akin to kicking a baby bunny.

You see the couch and you step over to it, your eyes wandering all over the trailer on your way. It's a little chaotic sure but you spy some order here and there, intrigued by the row of hats and mugs displayed neatly on the wall, wondering how long it must have taken them to amass the whole collection.

"So, you were saying that you need my help?"

You turn around, nearly colliding with the little Garfield mug he holds out to you. "Oh, thank you", you take it, looking inside to see a fizzy circle of grape soda inside bubbling back at you.

"Seen you having it at school a few times", he let's you know before you have a chance to ask him how he knew about your favorite drink.

Guess you weren't the only one occasionally sneaking a peek from a distance.

"Wow, that's so thoughtful", you smile at him again, noticing the way his cheeks pink up when he averts his eyes with a grunt to clear his throat.

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

You have a few sips as you sit down on the couch, sinking into the cushion. Now that you're inside, that sickening feeling slithers inside your body again and you start to go cold like before, placing the mug down on the table carefully, looking Eddie in the eye while he stands opposite you.

You gulp hard. "The reason I came over is because I did something...I did something really stupid and I need someone to help me who'll also be discreet about it. Please, Eddie. You have to promise me you won't tell."

Seeing you practically begging, seeing the way you look up at him like he's the only one who can help, like he's the only one you want to help you hits him right in the chest. And a little below the waistband of his sweats too but he files that thought away for later.

As much as he wants to say yes he needs to know more.

"Listen if you're in some kind of trouble or if you're-"

"No no it's nothing like that!"

"Okay, but I need to know what it is that I'm saying yes to."

That's reasonable. Entirely reasonable but your face falls into your open palms. You wish you could scream into them than have to bear the embarrassment you're about to cause yourself.

"Okay okay", you spring up onto your feet before you lose your nerve, standing right in front of him with your forehead nearly brushing his chin. "I need your help getting this off."

Quickly, you pull up your skirt to let him see what's underneath, his wide, terrified eyes flicking to and away from between your legs, not sure if he should actually be looking there despite you voluntarily baring yourself to him.

It's not everyday that a pretty girl comes by to flash him in the comfort of his own home.

When Eddie does manage to settle down somewhat he looks closer, taking in the thick black leather straps wrapped around you, studded with silver accents and your white cotton panties underneath which show through a cut out in the shape of a heart right above your mound.

"Please. I lost the key and I can't get the damn thing off. I've seen you working on your van with your tools. There must be something in there that you can use, right?"

Eddie's head is spinning, unable to stop focusing on your crotch and what he recognizes as a chastity belt from one of those BDSM magazines hidden under his bed wrapped around you.

"Why did you-"

You sigh. "I was checking to see if it fit because I wanted to wear it for someone I was dating", you admit with some disdain.

Eddie knows exactly who, sharing in your disdain.

"Danny Vaugh", Eddie says with a clear note of contempt, his tongue turning sour at the mention of his name. Skeezy little fucker who liked to test his luck by getting behind the wheel after a couple of beers and making out with a different girl at every party whether he had a girlfriend of his own waiting for him or not.

Eddie doesn't know what you ever saw in him, if at all.

"Right", you sigh, the regret clouding your whole face and with it, whatever feelings of embarrassment or shame are forced out, no longer afraid to just tell Eddie the truth.

"Yeah, well he dumped me. I wasn't ready to have sex and he was sick of dating a virgin." Watching the hurt register on your face made Eddie want nothing more than to introduce Danny to his ring clad fist. Repeatedly.

"So I saw this thing online and I don't know... a part of me thought he'd be into it? give him the key and let him finally have me or whatever. But a little while ago I heard that he's already moved on. With some girl in the same class as me too...that's so like him. And I've been locked in this fucking thing for the last three and a half hours. Please, I really need it off."

"That's... wow", he blinks, stunned. Not usually one to be at a loss for words but this was wild even for him.

"Yeah, so can you help me or not?"

--

You never would have thought you'd be in this position. Your skirt off while you sit down on the edge of Eddie Munson's bed, your legs spread for him as he kneels between them, trying his best to figure out which angle to tackle this problem from.

He's got a tool box to his left, all manner and sorts stored inside. Some of them you recognize and most of them you don't.

"Alright, so I think the best way would be to get this padlock off", he taps the heart shaped cut out and you feel it right on your mound. It's worse for him because this close it's hard for Eddie to remain professional when he can see your pussy clenching underneath the thin cotton barrier of your panties.

"So, what are you gonna use?" you ask him, throat scratchy and nervous when you eye a hammer and the sharp teeth of a saw laying among the tools.

"Don't worry. Got just the thing."

His hand dips into the tool box, sorting through it for nearly a minute.

"Got it", he smiles, pulling out something you hadn't anticipated.

"A safety pin?", you ask, confused.

Eddie chuckles at your reaction, his hands already on the padlock on your hip.

"Gonna pick it. Don't worry, I've done this a thousand times", he assures you. He bends the pin out of it's usual shape, twisting and pulling until he seems satisfied with the end result. Carefully, he inserts the sharp end of the pin inside the keyhole on the lock, fiddling with it this way and that.

"Pretty cool you know how to do this stuff", you tell him sincerely, relieved he didn't opt to cut or hammer you out of the belt.

The praise goes straight to his blushing cheeks. He's so used to people passing judgement on him for knowing these kinds of things, thinking of him as some kind of irredeemable good for nothing with the skillset of a petty thief. Just like his father.

You don't think that of him though. He knows it by the way you treat him but with how nice you're being it's almost hard for Eddie to keep focus.

This whole situation reminds him of the kinds of things that only happened in the pages of his graphic novels. Blood drenched Knights slaying vicious dragons to save beautiful princesses who've been locked away. Princesses who liked to show their appreciation in a certain kind of way. Princesses who've never lain with anyone before, though that was about to change now that they've found someone honorable and worthy, eagerly offering themselves to their knights.

And here's one just perched on his bed, looking so captivated by the way he's trying to save you. Not that you were offering yourself to him, he reminded himself bleakly.

But the fantasy still lingered in his mind because that's all he ever had.

A little more of turning the pin this way and that and there's a click that gets the lock to pop open at last, earning a deep sigh of relief out of you.

Setting the pin aside, Eddie helps to take the chastity belt off of you, pulling the leather down and off over your feet, taking in the marks left behind on your skin in the shape of the dark leather.

He goes to return your skirt too but you take it from him and place it aside, in no hurry to dress yourself.

"I've spent an hour with you and you've already treated me better than Danny ever did."

A 'told you so' sits on the tip of his tongue but he doesn't let it go past his teeth. So he doesn't quite know what to say to that instead, blinking back at you with a little smile.

"You know, I regret not getting to know you better", you tell him and he can hear the sadness gripping your throat like phantom fingers bearing down on your windpipe.

"You didn't miss anything", he chuckles just to be nice. Anything to keep you from looking sad again.

You shake your head. "I mean it. If I knew you better I would have never bothered with people like Danny...'only let him take me out because I was lonely. Thought I couldn't do better than him and I settled", you admit it out loud for the very first time.

It feels wonderfully cathartic to let these thoughts spill out like you're purging all the poison that filled your belly. Every little lie you swallowed down, all the times you tried to convince yourself that you were happy with Danny now being forced out of your system, no longer clogging your mind and veins.

The admission makes Eddie gawk at you in pure disbelief. "I'm sorry, you thought you weren't good enough? please tell me you're joking."

It's your turn to chuckle this time.

"I don't know, I just never hit it off with any one before."

'Until now', you wanted to add as you bite your lip.

"Yeah well it's their loss", he mutters, closing up his tool box and shoving it aside.

"Hey, Eddie?"

He looks up at you again. "Yeah?"

Slowly, you spread your legs wider, drawing him closer until your knees frame his shoulders.

"You missed one", you lower your hand down to your underwear, pinching the waistband between your fingers and letting it snap back in place against your skin.

He nearly keels over when he notices the soft cushion of your bush peaking through.

"You want me to take it off?", he croaks like a helpless toad, fingers all twitchy with excitement.

"Could you?", you tip your head to the side and ask sweetly, a picture of innocence though you both know that's not entirely the case.

"Yeah, I can do that."

You lift your lower body off the bed to help him, watching carefully as he drags your panties down your thighs, over the curve of your calves and off your feet so he can pocket them for later.

"Fucking Christ you're beautiful", he lets out in awe.

"Bet you say that to all the girls", you giggle back.

"Nope. Not like this."

He's quite serious. You can feel it in the way he looks at you. Unlike the devil worshipper that they all claim he is, he kneels between your feet like he might at an altar.

Praying to you. Praying for you.

"Go on. Touch me", you grant him permission.

Eddie gladly but carefully pulls your pussy folds apart, one thumb pressing against your quivering hole which he watches clenching open and closed open and closed. It's so small, the opening. How was he going to fit anything inside you let alone his cock? He supposed he'd have to take his time and work you open, the thought making his skin buzz excitedly like static.

And his other thumb gently pulls up the hood to reveal your clit, this glossy little bead that makes his mouth water at the thought of sucking on it till he makes you gush all over his tongue. He can't help but get the impression that the poor thing's been neglected until now. That clown Danny definitely hadn't found it. And he never would have, not even with both hands and a map.

"Want you to show me how good it feels", you tell him, working your right foot between his legs to gently rub it along the ridge of his clothed erection.

An hour ago you were neighbors reacquainting with each other. Now, he's helped you through one of your worst moments, and you stayed, not only wanting to reward him for it but also because despite how spontaneous this all was, you finally feel ready.

Eddie notices the shift in you too, a sly smile pulling at his lips but his eyes remain gentle, "Oh, I'll show you so much more than that, I promise."

Extended ending

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, new relationship, established relationship, car sex, unprotected sex, nipple play Summary: A wardrobe malfunction brings you and Steve closer together. WC:3.2K

15 minutes. Only 15 minutes to get ready.

It was your own fault for mixing up the dates, kicking open your room door, already yanking your work clothes off and throwing them all over your bed, your desk and your lamp, nearly knocking it over in the process.

Steve was already down Dower Street when he called to let you know he'd be over soon and time was running out. You hurried into the shower and back out in two minutes, somehow able to keep from slipping because you were still damp and a little soapy after trying to towel off so quickly.

Hair brush in one hand, you pull out your underwear drawer with the other. You don't take too much time or notice, your hands falling on something black and lacy and you decide it'll have to do.

You conceal the matching set with a favorite of yours, a mid thigh length burgundy chiffon dress. A wispy, airy kind of garment with thin straps and a little slit that showed off a few more inches of your bare thigh. Not too casual. Not too dressed up. The date night sweet spot.

By the time you hear his car pull up at your place you've just about fixed your hair and applied some light make up, remembering to puff on some perfume too before you head down the stairs in your heels, the scent of lilies lingering after you.

"Hello, gorgeous"

Steve's already at the door to greet you when you pull it open. Flashing his perfect smile and the prettiest bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You can't wait to find the right vase for the fragrant bunch of blushing pink peonies, already deciding to make it your new centerpiece.

And you've kept count too. This is the fourteenth time he's called you that since he officially asked you out a little over e week ago. You doubt you'll ever tire of keeping tally judging by the little hot electric pulse that sizzles through you whenever he says it.

The drive to the movie theatre is pleasant with small talk and plenty of smiles. A part of you quietly hopes for his hand to rest on your knee but it remains on the steering wheel for the duration. Though, after he's parked you're happily surprised when he gets down and holds the the door open for you, weaving his fingers between yours as you both walk inside hand in hand.

Selecting snacks and drinks doesn't take too long either, the both of you deciding on a large butter popcorn to share and two cherry cokes. Steve's treat, he insists.

The thought of brushing fingers with him all night while the two of you place the bucket between you brings that delightful buzzy feeling again. It travels down your back as he places his hand there when you walk inside, guiding you gently to your seats.

It's a sparse crowd once you look around, not too many queuing up to watch a showing of They live at this hour and honestly you preferred it that way. The last thing you wanted was to be seated next to anyone who could possibly ruin your good time. Especially with the two of you together like this in the dark. Who knows what could happen, you think excitedly.

The lights dim as you wrap your glossed lips around your straw and suck, fizzy cherry coke bubbling sweet on your tongue.

As you'd hoped, your fingers keep brushing as you dip into the bucket for mouthful after mouthful of buttery popcorn. You like the way his shoulder presses against yours whenever you exchange whispers and giggles, whiffs of his cologne and shampoo making you want to move even closer.

You're wondering when he'll make a move, if maybe he'll initiate a kiss sometime soon or later. You try to wait as patiently as you can manage but its only getting harder and harder.

Throughout the movie the screen casts so much color and light onto the audience and the empty seats that keep you all separated in your little pairs and groups. Each time it lights up like that your eyes fall on the two other couples seated a few rows down in front of you and Steve, both of them more touchy feely than the two of you and you start to wonder if maybe there's something you might be doing wrong. If maybe there's a reason why he's not taking things any further.

It's around twenty minutes later that Steve leans in again, coming closer to whisper something in your ear. This might be it. You still hope for that kiss, trying not to let your excitement get the best of you.

"Hey..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure how to say this..."

"Just say it", you encourage him sweetly.

"Um. did you mean to wear this tonight?"

Your brows press together.

Was this some kind of attempt at flirting? trying to set the tone before you took things further? He's usually somewhat smoother than this.

"What about it?", you try to keep things going despite his awkward delivery, batting your eyes a little bit.

"It's just that...you're glowing"

"Really?", you smile at what you think was a compliment.

"No, I mean literally. You're glowing"

"Huh?"

You pull away from Steve's face and back into your own chair, tipping your chin to look down.

Oh holy fuck.

You're stunned to see the neon green straps and lace shine through the thin chiffon, both your panties and your bra entirely visible.

The worst part? besides finding out your underwear's shining brighter than a fucking glow stick while the man you are yet to sleep with notices in public?

You have no one else to blame except for yourself.

Only you were responsible for fixing yourself a cocktail or four, before sitting down to do a little internet shopping the day after pay day, browsing at everything ranging from clothes to pet supplies.

In a drunken high, you'd looked through the lingerie on sale as well, only this time you'd completely forgotten having done so until the delivery came through a few days later.

Sober, you opened it and sighed. You liked the design sure, but glow in the dark lingerie? what were you thinking? It wasn't really your style. But on the other hand, it was still a perfectly fine matching set. You didn't see the sense in throwing it out when you could still wear it at home so you kept it until one day when they must have mixed in with the rest of your lingerie, completely forgotten until now.

You try to wrap your arms around yourself but that doesn't do much. Still glowing despite your best efforts. Looking up helplessly, you wish so badly to be like one of the alien beings living hidden in plain sight from the movie you're both supposed to be watching. You only hope you can go completely unnoticed like them too despite what you're both trying to conceal underneath.

"Oh god oh god oh god", you mumble under your breath, growing hot with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset. I just wasn't sure if you knew", he tries to calm you.

"It's not your fault Steve. It's mine. I completely forgot I'd even bought this stupid thing", you hide your face in your palms.

"Shit, I hope no one else saw...fuck I'm so stupid", you waste no time at beating yourself up.

"Hey", you feel him pull gently at one of your hands, carefully prying it away from your face. "If you're uncomfortable we can leave. I'll take you back home", he offers so kindly.

"I'm sorry. I ruined our date didn't I?", you sniff.

He chuckles. "Babe, you didn't ruin anything", he tells you while taking off his jacket and handing it to you. You're so thankful though you realize it doesn't fall low enough to conceal your panties entirely, looking like you're smuggling out a swarm of fireflies under your skirt.

"Could you walk behind me? I don't want anyone to stare at my butt"

If you weren't so upset about your outfit you would have adored the way he nods so quickly, head bopping up and down like a dashboard figurine going down a bumpy road. "Sure sure, yeah. I can do that".

After making it to the parking lot Steve opens the car door for you again, letting you step in and settle into your seat. When he rounds over to the drivers side you pull his jacket open and find that your underwear seems to shines brighter in here because it's darker than in the theatre.

"Alright, let's get you home", Steve buckles himself in.

This time the drive back is nowhere near as good as the one to the theater. The two of you try your best but it's just too awkward. The hue of your stupid underwear continues to light up in your seat and Steve seems to be breaking into a nervous sweat.

When the drive turns completely silent you wish you could just evaporate on the spot, just dissipate into nothingness and leave just your goddamn bra and thong behind.

All you'd wanted was a nice night out with your new boyfriend, getting to know each other more while you had fun.

But you don't get to sulk and linger on the thought for very much longer. A few more meters down the main road and Steve makes a sharp right, pulling a surprised yelp out of you. You're jostled in your seat as he takes you down a dark unlit trail road, seatbelt digging into your chest when he suddenly hits the brakes.

"Christ, I'm sorry but, darling you're killing me", he unclips himself from his seatbelt, leaning over the console to place his hand on the back of your head, guiding your lips to his.

It's an understatement to say the whole thing caught you by surprise, he'd been so composed up until now but you can feel the relief washing over as he lets himself go, his tongue brushing against yours. Still cherry coke sweet.

Even if you'd been waiting for a kiss tonight you couldn't have expected this. It was so raw and raunchy. The kind usually shared unclothed and between sweat damp sheets. You hadn't been kissed like this in a long while though you don't remember enjoying any of those previous kisses to the one your lips are currently locked in.

Your lips suck and smack, your tongues twist and flick for what feels like hours, your hand brushing over the little stubbly spot on his jaw that he must have missed while shaving until Steve pulls back, his lips so pink and slick with spit.

"I know... I know things are still new between us and I wanted to treat you like a gentleman. Classy girl like you deserves that, right?" he runs a hand through his hair, looking somewhat uncertain.

"First you walked out in that dress and you had me worried I couldn't make the walk back to the car without trying to get under your skirt right there in your mother's garden. 'Knew that if I kissed you in the theater I wouldn't be able to stop too."

Your eyes go wide as you blink up at him. He'd masked it so well up until now that you never would have guessed that he felt this way.

"So I wanted to give you that. I really tried to treat you right but- shit when I noticed what you had on under that dress I just couldn't hold back anymore. You don't know what you do to me, baby"

He looks apologetic about it. Almost like he ought to be ashamed. Like he'd committed some kind of wrong by not being able to resist you as you look down at his lap to find that he's hard.

You couldn't be more pleased.

"You like it, huh?" you begin to undrape his jacket from your shoulders, carefully chucking it in the back seat. You turn towards him in your seat, propping yourself on your hip and giving him your best bedroom eyes in the dark of his BMW.

Your lingerie still glows, a cute lacy heart covering your crotch matched with two identical hearts sewn upside down to hold your breasts in place.

"Yeah, I really do", he gulps.

"I guess we should do something about it then"

In that moment, Steve forgets how to breath when your hands reach up to pull the straps of your dress down your body, wiggling enough to pull it low and toss that too into the back once you get it over your feet. Knees digging into the leather detailing of his car, you maneuver your way on to the driver's seat next, setting yourself down on his lap.

There's a thrilling shift because you're feeling confident once again, loving the way it feels to show yourself off to him like this instead of trying to cover up at all costs.

"You've been looking so long, aren't you doing to touch them?", you pout even though you know that doing so would only fluster the poor boy even more.

It doesn't last long however. You're not the only one growing more confident as Steve reaches up to cup his hands over your soft breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he marvels at the feeling.

"You have no idea how conflicted I feel like right now", he groans.

"Oh?"

"Can't make up my mind if I ought to rip this thing off you or not", he pulls gently at your bra strap, letting it go and snap back into place.

"How about this?", you offer, reaching for the lacy cups and pulling them down enough for your tits to fall out, the lingerie bunching under them.

"Fucking hell", he reaches for your nipples, rubbing at them with his fingers to get them all hard and sensitive.

"You don't have to hold back with me, Steve. You've been so sweet all night but I want to see what it's like when you're not so nice"

"Yeah? think you're ready for that?"

"One way to find out", you whisper, dragging your clothed cunt over the shape of his stiff cock, humping at it with deep, slow thrusts to see who'll cave first

It's Steve.

He reaches for his belt and jeans, undoing them both so quick all while helping to hold you in place as you balance on your knees, eagerly watching him pull his cock free.

Seeing it finally is a real treat. It's not like his jeans ever did a great job of concealing just how big he was, always a bulge showing through even the thickest material. But now? it's so much better. Bigger, sure but it's how he handles it that makes your panties all sticky.

His big broad palm is spat in before he wraps it around his length, quickly getting it nice as slippery for you though you know it's only going to get much messier when you take him inside you.

Then it's your turn. Pulling the luminous lace aside, you place a hand on his shoulders and line up your entrance with the bulbous head of his cock, anticipating the stretch but even then it makes you shiver. It presses and presses against your hole and you try to fight against your body clamming up against something so large, circling your hips to find the right angle that'll allow him to slip inside.

When you find it the relief is instant, Steve slipping inside all warm and wet and tight while you feel the size of him drag and throb.

"You knew what you were doing, weren't you? asking me to walk behind you back at the theatre. You knew I'd watch your ass all the way back to the car"

You grin. "Yeah? that get you all hot and bothered?"

"You know it did"

You sink down on him up to the base, a little gasp escaping from between your lips.

"Alright. You asked for it"

His hands are so warm on your hips, strong and quick as he begins to drag you up and down his lap. There's nothing gentle about it either, just as you'd asked for. Your sweet, courteous Steve is no longer here to hand you flowers and open doors for you, squealing when his fingers reach for your nipples and begins to pinch them.

Sharp and hot, you like the feeling especially when he tugs on them all tight and taught before letting go, your puffy nipples throbbing from the attention. Meanwhile you try to match the pace he's set with his cock inside you, starting to bounce.

"Steve...I don't- I don't think I'm going to last long", You admit when his thumb finds it's way to your clit and rubs at it nice and firm like he's polishing a precious pearl, that pulsing electric feeling coursing up and down your quivering body.

"Yeah? poor thing. Had me thinking the same when you started to light up in your little bra and panties. Feels nice doesn't it?"

"Oh fuck , yes", you gasp, bouncing harder and harder until the seat starts to squeak and groan. He makes sure to give your ass some attention too, spanking you nice and hard in time with his thrusts.

The smell of sex is thick in Steve's car - his cologne and your perfume do a piss poor job of masking it, not that either of you seemed to mind. You hope it lingers on the leather and the fibers of the upholstery. You don't care if he's making a run to the grocery store or heading in to work, you want him to be reminded of you.

"Steeeeve", you whimper, unabashed and trembling.

"I know baby, I know. I'm right behind ya"

Your muscles are starting to ache and strain. Definitely going to turn sore by tomorrow just like between your legs. You hope his scent will cling to you. Weave into your hair and sink into your pores, seeping skin deep to remind you in the morning of how he'd made you feel.

Oh it's happening

You can't keep yourself upright anymore, slumping into Steve, your teeth biting down on his shoulder and though you hear him hiss he doesn't ask you to ease up on it, the same as his thumb on your beating clit, circling circling circling...

When it hits it's like the weight of your own bones have proven too much for you to bear, twitching and crying out his name into his neck. It's a little pathetic but you can feel that he likes it. It's all you can do as his thumb continues to bear down on your clit. You don't have any breath left in your lungs to tell him it's starting to get too sensitive.

"God, look at the mess you've made on me. 's only fair if I do the same to you, yeah?"

You fucking better

He doesn't wait for an answer you're too fucked out to give -- already knowing what you'd say.

Since the moment he slipped into you the wet clap of your bodies echoed in his car only now, it's much much wetter following your orgasm. You can hear just how much you've creamed on him and it makes your cheeks flare up.

"Gonna cum", he grunts into your hair, finally letting go. Despite how tired you are you listen so attentively when he empties into you, the gritty, deep groan and the airy little gasps he lets out in-between.

It's no surprise to you that Steve Harrington makes the nicest sounds when he cums.

It shoots hot inside you, rope after sticky rope of it reaching inside as deep as it can go. It's going to take a while to clean up from this. You wouldn't be surprised if you find some of it leaking onto your panties or trickling down your inner thighs tomorrow.

The movie's likely over now.

This time the silence doesn't feel unpleasant like before. Listening to the both of you softly panting from exertion almost feels hypnotizing, his hand stroking your hair and yours smoothing up and down his chest.

Minutes tick by and it's like you can only understand each other through those soft, tender touches. Every brush, every stroke meaning something different until Steve's able to muster up enough energy to tell you something important. Something that's best said with words.

"I don't mean to sound harsh or possessive", he tells you, making you quirk up one eyebrow. "But don't ever wear this in public ever again. Please? They don't deserve to see how beautiful you are", his lips press against your temple fondly. "Okay, gorgeous?"

You smile.

And that's number fifteen.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, new relationship, established relationship, car sex, unprotected sex, nipple play Summary: A wardrobe malfunction brings you and Steve closer together. WC:3.2K

15 minutes. Only 15 minutes to get ready.

It was your own fault for mixing up the dates, kicking open your room door, already yanking your work clothes off and throwing them all over your bed, your desk and your lamp, nearly knocking it over in the process.

Steve was already down Dower Street when he called to let you know he'd be over soon and time was running out. You hurried into the shower and back out in two minutes, somehow able to keep from slipping because you were still damp and a little soapy after trying to towel off so quickly.

Hair brush in one hand, you pull out your underwear drawer with the other. You don't take too much time or notice, your hands falling on something black and lacy and you decide it'll have to do.

You conceal the matching set with a favorite of yours, a mid thigh length burgundy chiffon dress. A wispy, airy kind of garment with thin straps and a little slit that showed off a few more inches of your bare thigh. Not too casual. Not too dressed up. The date night sweet spot.

By the time you hear his car pull up at your place you've just about fixed your hair and applied some light make up, remembering to puff on some perfume too before you head down the stairs in your heels, the scent of lilies lingering after you.

"Hello, gorgeous"

Steve's already at the door to greet you when you pull it open. Flashing his perfect smile and the prettiest bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You can't wait to find the right vase for the fragrant bunch of blushing pink peonies, already deciding to make it your new centerpiece.

And you've kept count too. This is the fourteenth time he's called you that since he officially asked you out a little over e week ago. You doubt you'll ever tire of keeping tally judging by the little hot electric pulse that sizzles through you whenever he says it.

The drive to the movie theatre is pleasant with small talk and plenty of smiles. A part of you quietly hopes for his hand to rest on your knee but it remains on the steering wheel for the duration. Though, after he's parked you're happily surprised when he gets down and holds the the door open for you, weaving his fingers between yours as you both walk inside hand in hand.

Selecting snacks and drinks doesn't take too long either, the both of you deciding on a large butter popcorn to share and two cherry cokes. Steve's treat, he insists.

The thought of brushing fingers with him all night while the two of you place the bucket between you brings that delightful buzzy feeling again. It travels down your back as he places his hand there when you walk inside, guiding you gently to your seats.

It's a sparse crowd once you look around, not too many queuing up to watch a showing of They live at this hour and honestly you preferred it that way. The last thing you wanted was to be seated next to anyone who could possibly ruin your good time. Especially with the two of you together like this in the dark. Who knows what could happen, you think excitedly.

The lights dim as you wrap your glossed lips around your straw and suck, fizzy cherry coke bubbling sweet on your tongue.

As you'd hoped, your fingers keep brushing as you dip into the bucket for mouthful after mouthful of buttery popcorn. You like the way his shoulder presses against yours whenever you exchange whispers and giggles, whiffs of his cologne and shampoo making you want to move even closer.

You're wondering when he'll make a move, if maybe he'll initiate a kiss sometime soon or later. You try to wait as patiently as you can manage but its only getting harder and harder.

Throughout the movie the screen casts so much color and light onto the audience and the empty seats that keep you all separated in your little pairs and groups. Each time it lights up like that your eyes fall on the two other couples seated a few rows down in front of you and Steve, both of them more touchy feely than the two of you and you start to wonder if maybe there's something you might be doing wrong. If maybe there's a reason why he's not taking things any further.

It's around twenty minutes later that Steve leans in again, coming closer to whisper something in your ear. This might be it. You still hope for that kiss, trying not to let your excitement get the best of you.

"Hey..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure how to say this..."

"Just say it", you encourage him sweetly.

"Um. did you mean to wear this tonight?"

Your brows press together.

Was this some kind of attempt at flirting? trying to set the tone before you took things further? He's usually somewhat smoother than this.

"What about it?", you try to keep things going despite his awkward delivery, batting your eyes a little bit.

"It's just that...you're glowing"

"Really?", you smile at what you think was a compliment.

"No, I mean literally. You're glowing"

"Huh?"

You pull away from Steve's face and back into your own chair, tipping your chin to look down.

Oh holy fuck.

You're stunned to see the neon green straps and lace shine through the thin chiffon, both your panties and your bra entirely visible.

The worst part? besides finding out your underwear's shining brighter than a fucking glow stick while the man you are yet to sleep with notices in public?

You have no one else to blame except for yourself.

Only you were responsible for fixing yourself a cocktail or four, before sitting down to do a little internet shopping the day after pay day, browsing at everything ranging from clothes to pet supplies.

In a drunken high, you'd looked through the lingerie on sale as well, only this time you'd completely forgotten having done so until the delivery came through a few days later.

Sober, you opened it and sighed. You liked the design sure, but glow in the dark lingerie? what were you thinking? It wasn't really your style. But on the other hand, it was still a perfectly fine matching set. You didn't see the sense in throwing it out when you could still wear it at home so you kept it until one day when they must have mixed in with the rest of your lingerie, completely forgotten until now.

You try to wrap your arms around yourself but that doesn't do much. Still glowing despite your best efforts. Looking up helplessly, you wish so badly to be like one of the alien beings living hidden in plain sight from the movie you're both supposed to be watching. You only hope you can go completely unnoticed like them too despite what you're both trying to conceal underneath.

"Oh god oh god oh god", you mumble under your breath, growing hot with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset. I just wasn't sure if you knew", he tries to calm you.

"It's not your fault Steve. It's mine. I completely forgot I'd even bought this stupid thing", you hide your face in your palms.

"Shit, I hope no one else saw...fuck I'm so stupid", you waste no time at beating yourself up.

"Hey", you feel him pull gently at one of your hands, carefully prying it away from your face. "If you're uncomfortable we can leave. I'll take you back home", he offers so kindly.

"I'm sorry. I ruined our date didn't I?", you sniff.

He chuckles. "Babe, you didn't ruin anything", he tells you while taking off his jacket and handing it to you. You're so thankful though you realize it doesn't fall low enough to conceal your panties entirely, looking like you're smuggling out a swarm of fireflies under your skirt.

"Could you walk behind me? I don't want anyone to stare at my butt"

If you weren't so upset about your outfit you would have adored the way he nods so quickly, head bopping up and down like a dashboard figurine going down a bumpy road. "Sure sure, yeah. I can do that".

After making it to the parking lot Steve opens the car door for you again, letting you step in and settle into your seat. When he rounds over to the drivers side you pull his jacket open and find that your underwear seems to shines brighter in here because it's darker than in the theatre.

"Alright, let's get you home", Steve buckles himself in.

This time the drive back is nowhere near as good as the one to the theater. The two of you try your best but it's just too awkward. The hue of your stupid underwear continues to light up in your seat and Steve seems to be breaking into a nervous sweat.

When the drive turns completely silent you wish you could just evaporate on the spot, just dissipate into nothingness and leave just your goddamn bra and thong behind.

All you'd wanted was a nice night out with your new boyfriend, getting to know each other more while you had fun.

But you don't get to sulk and linger on the thought for very much longer. A few more meters down the main road and Steve makes a sharp right, pulling a surprised yelp out of you. You're jostled in your seat as he takes you down a dark unlit trail road, seatbelt digging into your chest when he suddenly hits the brakes.

"Christ, I'm sorry but, darling you're killing me", he unclips himself from his seatbelt, leaning over the console to place his hand on the back of your head, guiding your lips to his.

It's an understatement to say the whole thing caught you by surprise, he'd been so composed up until now but you can feel the relief washing over as he lets himself go, his tongue brushing against yours. Still cherry coke sweet.

Even if you'd been waiting for a kiss tonight you couldn't have expected this. It was so raw and raunchy. The kind usually shared unclothed and between sweat damp sheets. You hadn't been kissed like this in a long while though you don't remember enjoying any of those previous kisses to the one your lips are currently locked in.

Your lips suck and smack, your tongues twist and flick for what feels like hours, your hand brushing over the little stubbly spot on his jaw that he must have missed while shaving until Steve pulls back, his lips so pink and slick with spit.

"I know... I know things are still new between us and I wanted to treat you like a gentleman. Classy girl like you deserves that, right?" he runs a hand through his hair, looking somewhat uncertain.

"First you walked out in that dress and you had me worried I couldn't make the walk back to the car without trying to get under your skirt right there in your mother's garden. 'Knew that if I kissed you in the theater I wouldn't be able to stop too."

Your eyes go wide as you blink up at him. He'd masked it so well up until now that you never would have guessed that he felt this way.

"So I wanted to give you that. I really tried to treat you right but- shit when I noticed what you had on under that dress I just couldn't hold back anymore. You don't know what you do to me, baby"

He looks apologetic about it. Almost like he ought to be ashamed. Like he'd committed some kind of wrong by not being able to resist you as you look down at his lap to find that he's hard.

You couldn't be more pleased.

"You like it, huh?" you begin to undrape his jacket from your shoulders, carefully chucking it in the back seat. You turn towards him in your seat, propping yourself on your hip and giving him your best bedroom eyes in the dark of his BMW.

Your lingerie still glows, a cute lacy heart covering your crotch matched with two identical hearts sewn upside down to hold your breasts in place.

"Yeah, I really do", he gulps.

"I guess we should do something about it then"

In that moment, Steve forgets how to breath when your hands reach up to pull the straps of your dress down your body, wiggling enough to pull it low and toss that too into the back once you get it over your feet. Knees digging into the leather detailing of his car, you maneuver your way on to the driver's seat next, setting yourself down on his lap.

There's a thrilling shift because you're feeling confident once again, loving the way it feels to show yourself off to him like this instead of trying to cover up at all costs.

"You've been looking so long, aren't you doing to touch them?", you pout even though you know that doing so would only fluster the poor boy even more.

It doesn't last long however. You're not the only one growing more confident as Steve reaches up to cup his hands over your soft breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he marvels at the feeling.

"You have no idea how conflicted I feel like right now", he groans.

"Oh?"

"Can't make up my mind if I ought to rip this thing off you or not", he pulls gently at your bra strap, letting it go and snap back into place.

"How about this?", you offer, reaching for the lacy cups and pulling them down enough for your tits to fall out, the lingerie bunching under them.

"Fucking hell", he reaches for your nipples, rubbing at them with his fingers to get them all hard and sensitive.

"You don't have to hold back with me, Steve. You've been so sweet all night but I want to see what it's like when you're not so nice"

"Yeah? think you're ready for that?"

"One way to find out", you whisper, dragging your clothed cunt over the shape of his stiff cock, humping at it with deep, slow thrusts to see who'll cave first

It's Steve.

He reaches for his belt and jeans, undoing them both so quick all while helping to hold you in place as you balance on your knees, eagerly watching him pull his cock free.

Seeing it finally is a real treat. It's not like his jeans ever did a great job of concealing just how big he was, always a bulge showing through even the thickest material. But now? it's so much better. Bigger, sure but it's how he handles it that makes your panties all sticky.

His big broad palm is spat in before he wraps it around his length, quickly getting it nice as slippery for you though you know it's only going to get much messier when you take him inside you.

Then it's your turn. Pulling the luminous lace aside, you place a hand on his shoulders and line up your entrance with the bulbous head of his cock, anticipating the stretch but even then it makes you shiver. It presses and presses against your hole and you try to fight against your body clamming up against something so large, circling your hips to find the right angle that'll allow him to slip inside.

When you find it the relief is instant, Steve slipping inside all warm and wet and tight while you feel the size of him drag and throb.

"You knew what you were doing, weren't you? asking me to walk behind you back at the theatre. You knew I'd watch your ass all the way back to the car"

You grin. "Yeah? that get you all hot and bothered?"

"You know it did"

You sink down on him up to the base, a little gasp escaping from between your lips.

"Alright. You asked for it"

His hands are so warm on your hips, strong and quick as he begins to drag you up and down his lap. There's nothing gentle about it either, just as you'd asked for. Your sweet, courteous Steve is no longer here to hand you flowers and open doors for you, squealing when his fingers reach for your nipples and begins to pinch them.

Sharp and hot, you like the feeling especially when he tugs on them all tight and taught before letting go, your puffy nipples throbbing from the attention. Meanwhile you try to match the pace he's set with his cock inside you, starting to bounce.

"Steve...I don't- I don't think I'm going to last long", You admit when his thumb finds it's way to your clit and rubs at it nice and firm like he's polishing a precious pearl, that pulsing electric feeling coursing up and down your quivering body.

"Yeah? poor thing. Had me thinking the same when you started to light up in your little bra and panties. Feels nice doesn't it?"

"Oh fuck , yes", you gasp, bouncing harder and harder until the seat starts to squeak and groan. He makes sure to give your ass some attention too, spanking you nice and hard in time with his thrusts.

The smell of sex is thick in Steve's car - his cologne and your perfume do a piss poor job of masking it, not that either of you seemed to mind. You hope it lingers on the leather and the fibers of the upholstery. You don't care if he's making a run to the grocery store or heading in to work, you want him to be reminded of you.

"Steeeeve", you whimper, unabashed and trembling.

"I know baby, I know. I'm right behind ya"

Your muscles are starting to ache and strain. Definitely going to turn sore by tomorrow just like between your legs. You hope his scent will cling to you. Weave into your hair and sink into your pores, seeping skin deep to remind you in the morning of how he'd made you feel.

Oh it's happening

You can't keep yourself upright anymore, slumping into Steve, your teeth biting down on his shoulder and though you hear him hiss he doesn't ask you to ease up on it, the same as his thumb on your beating clit, circling circling circling...

When it hits it's like the weight of your own bones have proven too much for you to bear, twitching and crying out his name into his neck. It's a little pathetic but you can feel that he likes it. It's all you can do as his thumb continues to bear down on your clit. You don't have any breath left in your lungs to tell him it's starting to get too sensitive.

"God, look at the mess you've made on me. 's only fair if I do the same to you, yeah?"

You fucking better

He doesn't wait for an answer you're too fucked out to give -- already knowing what you'd say.

Since the moment he slipped into you the wet clap of your bodies echoed in his car only now, it's much much wetter following your orgasm. You can hear just how much you've creamed on him and it makes your cheeks flare up.

"Gonna cum", he grunts into your hair, finally letting go. Despite how tired you are you listen so attentively when he empties into you, the gritty, deep groan and the airy little gasps he lets out in-between.

It's no surprise to you that Steve Harrington makes the nicest sounds when he cums.

It shoots hot inside you, rope after sticky rope of it reaching inside as deep as it can go. It's going to take a while to clean up from this. You wouldn't be surprised if you find some of it leaking onto your panties or trickling down your inner thighs tomorrow.

The movie's likely over now.

This time the silence doesn't feel unpleasant like before. Listening to the both of you softly panting from exertion almost feels hypnotizing, his hand stroking your hair and yours smoothing up and down his chest.

Minutes tick by and it's like you can only understand each other through those soft, tender touches. Every brush, every stroke meaning something different until Steve's able to muster up enough energy to tell you something important. Something that's best said with words.

"I don't mean to sound harsh or possessive", he tells you, making you quirk up one eyebrow. "But don't ever wear this in public ever again. Please? They don't deserve to see how beautiful you are", his lips press against your temple fondly. "Okay, gorgeous?"

You smile.

And that's number fifteen.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, new relationship, established relationship, car sex, unprotected sex, nipple play Summary: A wardrobe malfunction brings you and Steve closer together. WC:3.2K

15 minutes. Only 15 minutes to get ready.

It was your own fault for mixing up the dates, kicking open your room door, already yanking your work clothes off and throwing them all over your bed, your desk and your lamp, nearly knocking it over in the process.

Steve was already down Dower Street when he called to let you know he'd be over soon and time was running out. You hurried into the shower and back out in two minutes, somehow able to keep from slipping because you were still damp and a little soapy after trying to towel off so quickly.

Hair brush in one hand, you pull out your underwear drawer with the other. You don't take too much time or notice, your hands falling on something black and lacy and you decide it'll have to do.

You conceal the matching set with a favorite of yours, a mid thigh length burgundy chiffon dress. A wispy, airy kind of garment with thin straps and a little slit that showed off a few more inches of your bare thigh. Not too casual. Not too dressed up. The date night sweet spot.

By the time you hear his car pull up at your place you've just about fixed your hair and applied some light make up, remembering to puff on some perfume too before you head down the stairs in your heels, the scent of lilies lingering after you.

"Hello, gorgeous"

Steve's already at the door to greet you when you pull it open. Flashing his perfect smile and the prettiest bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You can't wait to find the right vase for the fragrant bunch of blushing pink peonies, already deciding to make it your new centerpiece.

And you've kept count too. This is the fourteenth time he's called you that since he officially asked you out a little over e week ago. You doubt you'll ever tire of keeping tally judging by the little hot electric pulse that sizzles through you whenever he says it.

The drive to the movie theatre is pleasant with small talk and plenty of smiles. A part of you quietly hopes for his hand to rest on your knee but it remains on the steering wheel for the duration. Though, after he's parked you're happily surprised when he gets down and holds the the door open for you, weaving his fingers between yours as you both walk inside hand in hand.

Selecting snacks and drinks doesn't take too long either, the both of you deciding on a large butter popcorn to share and two cherry cokes. Steve's treat, he insists.

The thought of brushing fingers with him all night while the two of you place the bucket between you brings that delightful buzzy feeling again. It travels down your back as he places his hand there when you walk inside, guiding you gently to your seats.

It's a sparse crowd once you look around, not too many queuing up to watch a showing of They live at this hour and honestly you preferred it that way. The last thing you wanted was to be seated next to anyone who could possibly ruin your good time. Especially with the two of you together like this in the dark. Who knows what could happen, you think excitedly.

The lights dim as you wrap your glossed lips around your straw and suck, fizzy cherry coke bubbling sweet on your tongue.

As you'd hoped, your fingers keep brushing as you dip into the bucket for mouthful after mouthful of buttery popcorn. You like the way his shoulder presses against yours whenever you exchange whispers and giggles, whiffs of his cologne and shampoo making you want to move even closer.

You're wondering when he'll make a move, if maybe he'll initiate a kiss sometime soon or later. You try to wait as patiently as you can manage but its only getting harder and harder.

Throughout the movie the screen casts so much color and light onto the audience and the empty seats that keep you all separated in your little pairs and groups. Each time it lights up like that your eyes fall on the two other couples seated a few rows down in front of you and Steve, both of them more touchy feely than the two of you and you start to wonder if maybe there's something you might be doing wrong. If maybe there's a reason why he's not taking things any further.

It's around twenty minutes later that Steve leans in again, coming closer to whisper something in your ear. This might be it. You still hope for that kiss, trying not to let your excitement get the best of you.

"Hey..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure how to say this..."

"Just say it", you encourage him sweetly.

"Um. did you mean to wear this tonight?"

Your brows press together.

Was this some kind of attempt at flirting? trying to set the tone before you took things further? He's usually somewhat smoother than this.

"What about it?", you try to keep things going despite his awkward delivery, batting your eyes a little bit.

"It's just that...you're glowing"

"Really?", you smile at what you think was a compliment.

"No, I mean literally. You're glowing"

"Huh?"

You pull away from Steve's face and back into your own chair, tipping your chin to look down.

Oh holy fuck.

You're stunned to see the neon green straps and lace shine through the thin chiffon, both your panties and your bra entirely visible.

The worst part? besides finding out your underwear's shining brighter than a fucking glow stick while the man you are yet to sleep with notices in public?

You have no one else to blame except for yourself.

Only you were responsible for fixing yourself a cocktail or four, before sitting down to do a little internet shopping the day after pay day, browsing at everything ranging from clothes to pet supplies.

In a drunken high, you'd looked through the lingerie on sale as well, only this time you'd completely forgotten having done so until the delivery came through a few days later.

Sober, you opened it and sighed. You liked the design sure, but glow in the dark lingerie? what were you thinking? It wasn't really your style. But on the other hand, it was still a perfectly fine matching set. You didn't see the sense in throwing it out when you could still wear it at home so you kept it until one day when they must have mixed in with the rest of your lingerie, completely forgotten until now.

You try to wrap your arms around yourself but that doesn't do much. Still glowing despite your best efforts. Looking up helplessly, you wish so badly to be like one of the alien beings living hidden in plain sight from the movie you're both supposed to be watching. You only hope you can go completely unnoticed like them too despite what you're both trying to conceal underneath.

"Oh god oh god oh god", you mumble under your breath, growing hot with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset. I just wasn't sure if you knew", he tries to calm you.

"It's not your fault Steve. It's mine. I completely forgot I'd even bought this stupid thing", you hide your face in your palms.

"Shit, I hope no one else saw...fuck I'm so stupid", you waste no time at beating yourself up.

"Hey", you feel him pull gently at one of your hands, carefully prying it away from your face. "If you're uncomfortable we can leave. I'll take you back home", he offers so kindly.

"I'm sorry. I ruined our date didn't I?", you sniff.

He chuckles. "Babe, you didn't ruin anything", he tells you while taking off his jacket and handing it to you. You're so thankful though you realize it doesn't fall low enough to conceal your panties entirely, looking like you're smuggling out a swarm of fireflies under your skirt.

"Could you walk behind me? I don't want anyone to stare at my butt"

If you weren't so upset about your outfit you would have adored the way he nods so quickly, head bopping up and down like a dashboard figurine going down a bumpy road. "Sure sure, yeah. I can do that".

After making it to the parking lot Steve opens the car door for you again, letting you step in and settle into your seat. When he rounds over to the drivers side you pull his jacket open and find that your underwear seems to shines brighter in here because it's darker than in the theatre.

"Alright, let's get you home", Steve buckles himself in.

This time the drive back is nowhere near as good as the one to the theater. The two of you try your best but it's just too awkward. The hue of your stupid underwear continues to light up in your seat and Steve seems to be breaking into a nervous sweat.

When the drive turns completely silent you wish you could just evaporate on the spot, just dissipate into nothingness and leave just your goddamn bra and thong behind.

All you'd wanted was a nice night out with your new boyfriend, getting to know each other more while you had fun.

But you don't get to sulk and linger on the thought for very much longer. A few more meters down the main road and Steve makes a sharp right, pulling a surprised yelp out of you. You're jostled in your seat as he takes you down a dark unlit trail road, seatbelt digging into your chest when he suddenly hits the brakes.

"Christ, I'm sorry but, darling you're killing me", he unclips himself from his seatbelt, leaning over the console to place his hand on the back of your head, guiding your lips to his.

It's an understatement to say the whole thing caught you by surprise, he'd been so composed up until now but you can feel the relief washing over as he lets himself go, his tongue brushing against yours. Still cherry coke sweet.

Even if you'd been waiting for a kiss tonight you couldn't have expected this. It was so raw and raunchy. The kind usually shared unclothed and between sweat damp sheets. You hadn't been kissed like this in a long while though you don't remember enjoying any of those previous kisses to the one your lips are currently locked in.

Your lips suck and smack, your tongues twist and flick for what feels like hours, your hand brushing over the little stubbly spot on his jaw that he must have missed while shaving until Steve pulls back, his lips so pink and slick with spit.

"I know... I know things are still new between us and I wanted to treat you like a gentleman. Classy girl like you deserves that, right?" he runs a hand through his hair, looking somewhat uncertain.

"First you walked out in that dress and you had me worried I couldn't make the walk back to the car without trying to get under your skirt right there in your mother's garden. 'Knew that if I kissed you in the theater I wouldn't be able to stop too."

Your eyes go wide as you blink up at him. He'd masked it so well up until now that you never would have guessed that he felt this way.

"So I wanted to give you that. I really tried to treat you right but- shit when I noticed what you had on under that dress I just couldn't hold back anymore. You don't know what you do to me, baby"

He looks apologetic about it. Almost like he ought to be ashamed. Like he'd committed some kind of wrong by not being able to resist you as you look down at his lap to find that he's hard.

You couldn't be more pleased.

"You like it, huh?" you begin to undrape his jacket from your shoulders, carefully chucking it in the back seat. You turn towards him in your seat, propping yourself on your hip and giving him your best bedroom eyes in the dark of his BMW.

Your lingerie still glows, a cute lacy heart covering your crotch matched with two identical hearts sewn upside down to hold your breasts in place.

"Yeah, I really do", he gulps.

"I guess we should do something about it then"

In that moment, Steve forgets how to breath when your hands reach up to pull the straps of your dress down your body, wiggling enough to pull it low and toss that too into the back once you get it over your feet. Knees digging into the leather detailing of his car, you maneuver your way on to the driver's seat next, setting yourself down on his lap.

There's a thrilling shift because you're feeling confident once again, loving the way it feels to show yourself off to him like this instead of trying to cover up at all costs.

"You've been looking so long, aren't you doing to touch them?", you pout even though you know that doing so would only fluster the poor boy even more.

It doesn't last long however. You're not the only one growing more confident as Steve reaches up to cup his hands over your soft breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he marvels at the feeling.

"You have no idea how conflicted I feel like right now", he groans.

"Oh?"

"Can't make up my mind if I ought to rip this thing off you or not", he pulls gently at your bra strap, letting it go and snap back into place.

"How about this?", you offer, reaching for the lacy cups and pulling them down enough for your tits to fall out, the lingerie bunching under them.

"Fucking hell", he reaches for your nipples, rubbing at them with his fingers to get them all hard and sensitive.

"You don't have to hold back with me, Steve. You've been so sweet all night but I want to see what it's like when you're not so nice"

"Yeah? think you're ready for that?"

"One way to find out", you whisper, dragging your clothed cunt over the shape of his stiff cock, humping at it with deep, slow thrusts to see who'll cave first

It's Steve.

He reaches for his belt and jeans, undoing them both so quick all while helping to hold you in place as you balance on your knees, eagerly watching him pull his cock free.

Seeing it finally is a real treat. It's not like his jeans ever did a great job of concealing just how big he was, always a bulge showing through even the thickest material. But now? it's so much better. Bigger, sure but it's how he handles it that makes your panties all sticky.

His big broad palm is spat in before he wraps it around his length, quickly getting it nice as slippery for you though you know it's only going to get much messier when you take him inside you.

Then it's your turn. Pulling the luminous lace aside, you place a hand on his shoulders and line up your entrance with the bulbous head of his cock, anticipating the stretch but even then it makes you shiver. It presses and presses against your hole and you try to fight against your body clamming up against something so large, circling your hips to find the right angle that'll allow him to slip inside.

When you find it the relief is instant, Steve slipping inside all warm and wet and tight while you feel the size of him drag and throb.

"You knew what you were doing, weren't you? asking me to walk behind you back at the theatre. You knew I'd watch your ass all the way back to the car"

You grin. "Yeah? that get you all hot and bothered?"

"You know it did"

You sink down on him up to the base, a little gasp escaping from between your lips.

"Alright. You asked for it"

His hands are so warm on your hips, strong and quick as he begins to drag you up and down his lap. There's nothing gentle about it either, just as you'd asked for. Your sweet, courteous Steve is no longer here to hand you flowers and open doors for you, squealing when his fingers reach for your nipples and begins to pinch them.

Sharp and hot, you like the feeling especially when he tugs on them all tight and taught before letting go, your puffy nipples throbbing from the attention. Meanwhile you try to match the pace he's set with his cock inside you, starting to bounce.

"Steve...I don't- I don't think I'm going to last long", You admit when his thumb finds it's way to your clit and rubs at it nice and firm like he's polishing a precious pearl, that pulsing electric feeling coursing up and down your quivering body.

"Yeah? poor thing. Had me thinking the same when you started to light up in your little bra and panties. Feels nice doesn't it?"

"Oh fuck , yes", you gasp, bouncing harder and harder until the seat starts to squeak and groan. He makes sure to give your ass some attention too, spanking you nice and hard in time with his thrusts.

The smell of sex is thick in Steve's car - his cologne and your perfume do a piss poor job of masking it, not that either of you seemed to mind. You hope it lingers on the leather and the fibers of the upholstery. You don't care if he's making a run to the grocery store or heading in to work, you want him to be reminded of you.

"Steeeeve", you whimper, unabashed and trembling.

"I know baby, I know. I'm right behind ya"

Your muscles are starting to ache and strain. Definitely going to turn sore by tomorrow just like between your legs. You hope his scent will cling to you. Weave into your hair and sink into your pores, seeping skin deep to remind you in the morning of how he'd made you feel.

Oh it's happening

You can't keep yourself upright anymore, slumping into Steve, your teeth biting down on his shoulder and though you hear him hiss he doesn't ask you to ease up on it, the same as his thumb on your beating clit, circling circling circling...

When it hits it's like the weight of your own bones have proven too much for you to bear, twitching and crying out his name into his neck. It's a little pathetic but you can feel that he likes it. It's all you can do as his thumb continues to bear down on your clit. You don't have any breath left in your lungs to tell him it's starting to get too sensitive.

"God, look at the mess you've made on me. 's only fair if I do the same to you, yeah?"

You fucking better

He doesn't wait for an answer you're too fucked out to give -- already knowing what you'd say.

Since the moment he slipped into you the wet clap of your bodies echoed in his car only now, it's much much wetter following your orgasm. You can hear just how much you've creamed on him and it makes your cheeks flare up.

"Gonna cum", he grunts into your hair, finally letting go. Despite how tired you are you listen so attentively when he empties into you, the gritty, deep groan and the airy little gasps he lets out in-between.

It's no surprise to you that Steve Harrington makes the nicest sounds when he cums.

It shoots hot inside you, rope after sticky rope of it reaching inside as deep as it can go. It's going to take a while to clean up from this. You wouldn't be surprised if you find some of it leaking onto your panties or trickling down your inner thighs tomorrow.

The movie's likely over now.

This time the silence doesn't feel unpleasant like before. Listening to the both of you softly panting from exertion almost feels hypnotizing, his hand stroking your hair and yours smoothing up and down his chest.

Minutes tick by and it's like you can only understand each other through those soft, tender touches. Every brush, every stroke meaning something different until Steve's able to muster up enough energy to tell you something important. Something that's best said with words.

"I don't mean to sound harsh or possessive", he tells you, making you quirk up one eyebrow. "But don't ever wear this in public ever again. Please? They don't deserve to see how beautiful you are", his lips press against your temple fondly. "Okay, gorgeous?"

You smile.

And that's number fifteen.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, established relationship, risky oral sex (f), public sexual acts, implied PIV sex Summary: Eddie needs help getting away from the cops. You know just where to hide him. WC:2.3K

A/N: Been rewatching Desperate Housewives and was inspired by that one scene where Gaby hides Carlos from Victor on her wedding day. iykyk. The image in the middle is not meant to represent the reader's features, skin color, body type or other. It is only meant to help visualize her attire.

It was meant to be a surprise, something you put so much thought into and effort to keep hidden.

You had help too of course. Natalie was a saint in your book, helping to keep your surprise under wraps all while using her skills as an exceptional seamstress to flawlessly execute your design. Even with this kind of outfit being a first for her.

It definitely didn't deter or daunt her though. For as long as you've known her, since way back when you both sported matching gap toothed smiles and scraped knees at the sand box, she was always fueled by a challenge.

So away from the sunlight that beamed in through the store's front window and the mannequins dressed impeccably on display, you take your time getting dressed in the back of the store where all the changing rooms were there in a row. No other roaming eyes around.

Once everything seemed to be in place, you stepped out and up on to the little platform in front of the floor length mirrors and you couldn't help but smile proudly when you saw yourself.

It wasn't finished yet, still needing a few more details to be stitched on but fucking hell, you were so thrilled with it already.

The daisy white blouse ran down the length of your arms and to your wrists, its long, double layered puff sleeves going well with the ruched collar and off shoulder style. It fit well underneath the white and cream colored corset in the middle which kept your waist cinched with gold ribbon laced through it and your breasts lifted up high, almost spilling over the neckline. Exactly how you had asked for.

The corset was held together with more gold ribbon tied off into dainty bows where they connected over your shoulders with thick straps. And the skirt, made of the same material with floral detailing, flowed down, the hem of your dress reaching far enough to cover your toes with your heels on and most of all, the hoop skirt, without which the silhouette couldn't have been achieved, was much easier to handle and get into than what you had expected.

It was roomy and comfortable, making your skirt billow out in a very elegant way. As silly as it might be, It's hard not to feel like a princess or at least, princess-like when you gaze back at yourself in the mirror.

The renaissance fair was still a week away, your first time attending with Eddie, and you had full confidence that Nat could get it done it time. Maybe another fitting or two and the dress should be complete, you guessed.

"He's going to bust on the spot", she tells you plainly with a friendly smirk and your face warms up while you roll your eyes back playfully.

"You think so?" you half joked back.

"Yep. Just make sure. No stains, got it?", she replied, gesturing at the dress and you feign offence, sucking in a little fake gasp and clutching your pearls.

It's not that Nat disapproved. She just knew Eddie that well.

You're both interrupted when the landline in her little office down the corridor starts to ring. It makes her sigh and you smile understandingly as she mouths 'one sec' at you on her way out, leaving you to stand there in your outfit. You knew that with Nat, these phone calls could last anywhere between 5 minutes and 45 minutes.

You didn't mind however. In the silence, you were kept busy, running your hands all over the different kinds of materials and textures and the little detailing here and there. Even wondering if adding a few rhinestones might be overkill or not.

God, you hope Eddie likes it.

And as if on cue, you're startled when the front door flings open, the bell jangling wildly from the force of it. With Nat busy, you step off the platform and take small steps towards the noise, hoping she hadn't accidentally penciled a different client in at the same time as you like she had once before.

You stumble and narrowly trip on the carpet when you see him, whipping in every direction, searching searching searching until...

"There you are!...Jesus fucking Christ".

Whatever kind of rush Eddie was in is forgotten, slowing down to a very abrupt halt.

His eyes become so wide like he could probably take in all the details of your renaissance dress in one blink, his jaw so slack you're a little afraid he might dribble some drool on Nat's nice carpeting like waving a lamb chop in front of a bulldog.

"When you said you were helping Natalie out I didn't think-"

"It was meant to be a surprise" you sigh, shoulders slumping, having kept up the lie for almost an entire month, even with Eddie dropping you off and picking you up from the store every time you came in to having a fitting.

You fibbed about helping with some administrative work at her store and that was enough for Eddie. No questions asked. Why would he? he trusted you.

Though you can't lie about the way you feel when he looks you up and down right now, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach out and touch it but he's too afraid of wrecking it somehow.

He gets like this sometimes with you. To him, you're damn near porcelain, something to admire, something to handle very delicately. Not to be carelessly chipped and cracked.

"Wait, what's going on?", you remember to ask him because he's a little too busy staring at your tits in this dress right now.

"Oh, um...OH! right", he hurries up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, his face close to yours.

"Baby, you need to hide me".

Turning to look out the window, you quickly spot an officer in the distance stalking through the crowd and you know exactly who is responsible the scowl twisting his face.

"Damnit Eddie, were you dealing?", you hiss under your breath.

He winces while holding his index finger and thumb up, keeping only a hair's breadth of space apart between them. "Just a tiny little bit".

Trying to think fast, you know that whichever room you hide him in will be searched. Even in the smallest of spaces, if he were to crouch inside, all it would take was for the officer to lean over and find him huddled there, hauling your boyfriend over to the station to have his mugshot taken...again.

It gets worse when the closer he gets you begin to recognize him. Officer Delridge. Definitely not a fan of Eddie's. Not after that stunt he pulled with the fireworks on the fourth of July. In fact, you're pretty sure that if he were to take his hat off you'll still find the bald spot your boyfriend accidentally singed into his hair still growing back in.

It needed to be somewhere no one would think to look.

"I have an idea", you grab him by the wrist and pull Eddie along.

---

This is definitely the most insane thing you've ever done but you stand as stable as you can, pretending to fix your hair in the mirrors while you keep flicking your eyes around to try and spot Delridge approaching around the corner when the bell rings once more.

You're starting to sweat. That familiar beige uniform and the darker wide brimmed hat coming into view as he stomps over. It looks much better on Hopper than it does on him you can't help but note.

"'Scuse me ma'am", he grunts to get your attention and you turn around carefully and smile as naturally as you can manage.

"Just need to know if you've seen a certain individual come by here. Male. Dark hair. Long. Leather jacket. Jeans. you see anyone like that around?"

He doesn't seem to recognize you thankfully although you're sure most people you knew would have some trouble trying to place you in this outfit.

"Not that I recall", you calmly supply the lie easily. "Doubt I'd run into him here though," you gesture towards all the tailored dresses on display. "Is he dangerous?"

The question prompts a tiny pinch at your ankle.

Delridge looks unimpressed, his eyes still searching. "Only to himself if keeps this up". The man mutters and you press your teeth into your lower lip to keep from reacting.

"I'm still going to need to have a look around", he heads towards the changing rooms before you can even begin to reply, leaving him out of earshot.

"Eddie, you're fucking tickling me", you whisper.

"Sorry", a muffled whisper rises out from under your billowing skirt, his hair still tickling your inner thighs despite how still he attempts to stay. He doesn't mean it, you can tell because you can hear his goony little smile and feel his hands as they start to slope over the curves of your calves, his lips following the same path.

You're ready to reprimand him again but Delridge begins to work your last nerve, roaming near and far around the store, impossible to predict from which corner he might pop up. So you stay silent, stretching on a tight smile while Eddie's hands begin to grow more daring.

It's almost torturous how his breath puffs up at your panties, pressing his nose up against it to breath you in, no doubt to make the most out of this unique opportunity he's been blessed with.

You stagger for a moment when he fills his palms with your ass cheeks and begins squeezing, his teeth also sinking in to them gently. You consider stomping him as a way to get him to behave while he's huddled down there but if you're being entirely honest, you don't hate it.

The risk only fans the flames.

There's nothing you can do to stop it when you feel him move your panties to the side, or so you tell yourself when his tongue easily glides through your wet slit to taste you.

Now? Now?? Right damn now???

You didn't expect anything less from him.

Your hands slip down the front of your dress, hoping to weave your fingers through his curls but all you can do is grab fistfuls of the creamy material and bunch it up in your hands.

He's even able to wedge himself sideways between your legs, flicking the tip of his tongue over and over and over against your clit before he can get close enough to wrap his lips around it and suck messily.

"Shit- fuck- little more to the left" you hush out, kicking him in the knee when you hear a laugh bubble up from under your dress because he knows he's got you in the palm of his hand no matter how you might try to reprimand him.

"Everything seems to be in order"

You nearly screech when Delridge walks back in looking more pissed than before, clearly upset that he wasn't able to cuff Eddie and throw him in the back seat.

He looks at you. Really looks at you this time and not around you like when he first came in.

You don't like it.

Even Eddie goes still, the only movement being his spit and your slick dragging down your leg.

"Nice girl like you shouldn't get mixed up with that type. You take care now", he tips his hat at you and you paste on another smile, remaining statue still until you hear the bell chime again to signal his departure.

Frantically pulling up the layers of your dress, you unearth Eddie. He quits crouching and lays strewn out on his back, still half covered by your skirt, your feet on either side of his hips while he makes no effort to get back up.

"I wasn't done", he pout, lips pink and glossy with you.

He's quite literally gotten your panties in a twist now as the gusset has been pulled inside out.

"I just saved your ass. Is that all you have to say to me?", you ask surly, appearing more stern than you actually feel.

"No. You're beautiful" he says, looking at you once more like he had when he first set eyes on you like this. Only now he's not scared to touch you the way you like. The only chips and cracks he'll ever inflict on you are the ones you will let him, the ones you yearn for in the name of pleasure. And you know he'll fill them back in all good as new anyway with all the unending affection he'll pour into you. It isn't a maybe. It's a certainty.

"And I'm trying to thank you", he winks back at you.

This wasn't how you wanted him to see the dress but in some way, you ought to have expected something like this to happen. Well, not exactly this but things rarely ever went according to plan with Eddie. But with that came so much excitement, you can't help but like the unpredictability of it all. Besides, he always came through in the end.

"You really like it?", you ask hopefully, swishing your skirt from side to side so he could see it move.

"Are you kidding? darlin' you're a knockout," he moves the hem of your dress out the way so you can clearly see the boner he's got waiting for you behind those jeans.

"How pissed do you think Nat will be if you give me a tour of the dressing room?"

"Eddie there's not going to be a piece of this left if I let you do that", you giggle.

"Oh come on. maybe a little rip or two. nothing she can't fix. I'll be good. I'll be careful, I promise."

You gulp, remembering her warning regarding stains.

It's a good that she's the forgiving type.

"Hmm...somewhat to moderately", you answer his question. "So far as we clean up right and I pay her extra."

With that he plunges his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of 50's secured with rubber bands of all colors.

"Done"

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, established relationship, risky oral sex (f), public sexual acts, implied PIV sex Summary: Eddie needs help getting away from the cops. You know just where to hide him. WC:2.3K

A/N: Been rewatching Desperate Housewives and was inspired by that one scene where Gaby hides Carlos from Victor on her wedding day. iykyk. The image in the middle is not meant to represent the reader's features, skin color, body type or other. It is only meant to help visualize her attire.

It was meant to be a surprise, something you put so much thought into and effort to keep hidden.

You had help too of course. Natalie was a saint in your book, helping to keep your surprise under wraps all while using her skills as an exceptional seamstress to flawlessly execute your design. Even with this kind of outfit being a first for her.

It definitely didn't deter or daunt her though. For as long as you've known her, since way back when you both sported matching gap toothed smiles and scraped knees at the sand box, she was always fueled by a challenge.

So away from the sunlight that beamed in through the store's front window and the mannequins dressed impeccably on display, you take your time getting dressed in the back of the store where all the changing rooms were there in a row. No other roaming eyes around.

Once everything seemed to be in place, you stepped out and up on to the little platform in front of the floor length mirrors and you couldn't help but smile proudly when you saw yourself.

It wasn't finished yet, still needing a few more details to be stitched on but fucking hell, you were so thrilled with it already.

The daisy white blouse ran down the length of your arms and to your wrists, its long, double layered puff sleeves going well with the ruched collar and off shoulder style. It fit well underneath the white and cream colored corset in the middle which kept your waist cinched with gold ribbon laced through it and your breasts lifted up high, almost spilling over the neckline. Exactly how you had asked for.

The corset was held together with more gold ribbon tied off into dainty bows where they connected over your shoulders with thick straps. And the skirt, made of the same material with floral detailing, flowed down, the hem of your dress reaching far enough to cover your toes with your heels on and most of all, the hoop skirt, without which the silhouette couldn't have been achieved, was much easier to handle and get into than what you had expected.

It was roomy and comfortable, making your skirt billow out in a very elegant way. As silly as it might be, It's hard not to feel like a princess or at least, princess-like when you gaze back at yourself in the mirror.

The renaissance fair was still a week away, your first time attending with Eddie, and you had full confidence that Nat could get it done it time. Maybe another fitting or two and the dress should be complete, you guessed.

"He's going to bust on the spot", she tells you plainly with a friendly smirk and your face warms up while you roll your eyes back playfully.

"You think so?" you half joked back.

"Yep. Just make sure. No stains, got it?", she replied, gesturing at the dress and you feign offence, sucking in a little fake gasp and clutching your pearls.

It's not that Nat disapproved. She just knew Eddie that well.

You're both interrupted when the landline in her little office down the corridor starts to ring. It makes her sigh and you smile understandingly as she mouths 'one sec' at you on her way out, leaving you to stand there in your outfit. You knew that with Nat, these phone calls could last anywhere between 5 minutes and 45 minutes.

You didn't mind however. In the silence, you were kept busy, running your hands all over the different kinds of materials and textures and the little detailing here and there. Even wondering if adding a few rhinestones might be overkill or not.

God, you hope Eddie likes it.

And as if on cue, you're startled when the front door flings open, the bell jangling wildly from the force of it. With Nat busy, you step off the platform and take small steps towards the noise, hoping she hadn't accidentally penciled a different client in at the same time as you like she had once before.

You stumble and narrowly trip on the carpet when you see him, whipping in every direction, searching searching searching until...

"There you are!...Jesus fucking Christ".

Whatever kind of rush Eddie was in is forgotten, slowing down to a very abrupt halt.

His eyes become so wide like he could probably take in all the details of your renaissance dress in one blink, his jaw so slack you're a little afraid he might dribble some drool on Nat's nice carpeting like waving a lamb chop in front of a bulldog.

"When you said you were helping Natalie out I didn't think-"

"It was meant to be a surprise" you sigh, shoulders slumping, having kept up the lie for almost an entire month, even with Eddie dropping you off and picking you up from the store every time you came in to having a fitting.

You fibbed about helping with some administrative work at her store and that was enough for Eddie. No questions asked. Why would he? he trusted you.

Though you can't lie about the way you feel when he looks you up and down right now, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach out and touch it but he's too afraid of wrecking it somehow.

He gets like this sometimes with you. To him, you're damn near porcelain, something to admire, something to handle very delicately. Not to be carelessly chipped and cracked.

"Wait, what's going on?", you remember to ask him because he's a little too busy staring at your tits in this dress right now.

"Oh, um...OH! right", he hurries up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, his face close to yours.

"Baby, you need to hide me".

Turning to look out the window, you quickly spot an officer in the distance stalking through the crowd and you know exactly who is responsible the scowl twisting his face.

"Damnit Eddie, were you dealing?", you hiss under your breath.

He winces while holding his index finger and thumb up, keeping only a hair's breadth of space apart between them. "Just a tiny little bit".

Trying to think fast, you know that whichever room you hide him in will be searched. Even in the smallest of spaces, if he were to crouch inside, all it would take was for the officer to lean over and find him huddled there, hauling your boyfriend over to the station to have his mugshot taken...again.

It gets worse when the closer he gets you begin to recognize him. Officer Delridge. Definitely not a fan of Eddie's. Not after that stunt he pulled with the fireworks on the fourth of July. In fact, you're pretty sure that if he were to take his hat off you'll still find the bald spot your boyfriend accidentally singed into his hair still growing back in.

It needed to be somewhere no one would think to look.

"I have an idea", you grab him by the wrist and pull Eddie along.

---

This is definitely the most insane thing you've ever done but you stand as stable as you can, pretending to fix your hair in the mirrors while you keep flicking your eyes around to try and spot Delridge approaching around the corner when the bell rings once more.

You're starting to sweat. That familiar beige uniform and the darker wide brimmed hat coming into view as he stomps over. It looks much better on Hopper than it does on him you can't help but note.

"'Scuse me ma'am", he grunts to get your attention and you turn around carefully and smile as naturally as you can manage.

"Just need to know if you've seen a certain individual come by here. Male. Dark hair. Long. Leather jacket. Jeans. you see anyone like that around?"

He doesn't seem to recognize you thankfully although you're sure most people you knew would have some trouble trying to place you in this outfit.

"Not that I recall", you calmly supply the lie easily. "Doubt I'd run into him here though," you gesture towards all the tailored dresses on display. "Is he dangerous?"

The question prompts a tiny pinch at your ankle.

Delridge looks unimpressed, his eyes still searching. "Only to himself if keeps this up". The man mutters and you press your teeth into your lower lip to keep from reacting.

"I'm still going to need to have a look around", he heads towards the changing rooms before you can even begin to reply, leaving him out of earshot.

"Eddie, you're fucking tickling me", you whisper.

"Sorry", a muffled whisper rises out from under your billowing skirt, his hair still tickling your inner thighs despite how still he attempts to stay. He doesn't mean it, you can tell because you can hear his goony little smile and feel his hands as they start to slope over the curves of your calves, his lips following the same path.

You're ready to reprimand him again but Delridge begins to work your last nerve, roaming near and far around the store, impossible to predict from which corner he might pop up. So you stay silent, stretching on a tight smile while Eddie's hands begin to grow more daring.

It's almost torturous how his breath puffs up at your panties, pressing his nose up against it to breath you in, no doubt to make the most out of this unique opportunity he's been blessed with.

You stagger for a moment when he fills his palms with your ass cheeks and begins squeezing, his teeth also sinking in to them gently. You consider stomping him as a way to get him to behave while he's huddled down there but if you're being entirely honest, you don't hate it.

The risk only fans the flames.

There's nothing you can do to stop it when you feel him move your panties to the side, or so you tell yourself when his tongue easily glides through your wet slit to taste you.

Now? Now?? Right damn now???

You didn't expect anything less from him.

Your hands slip down the front of your dress, hoping to weave your fingers through his curls but all you can do is grab fistfuls of the creamy material and bunch it up in your hands.

He's even able to wedge himself sideways between your legs, flicking the tip of his tongue over and over and over against your clit before he can get close enough to wrap his lips around it and suck messily.

"Shit- fuck- little more to the left" you hush out, kicking him in the knee when you hear a laugh bubble up from under your dress because he knows he's got you in the palm of his hand no matter how you might try to reprimand him.

"Everything seems to be in order"

You nearly screech when Delridge walks back in looking more pissed than before, clearly upset that he wasn't able to cuff Eddie and throw him in the back seat.

He looks at you. Really looks at you this time and not around you like when he first came in.

You don't like it.

Even Eddie goes still, the only movement being his spit and your slick dragging down your leg.

"Nice girl like you shouldn't get mixed up with that type. You take care now", he tips his hat at you and you paste on another smile, remaining statue still until you hear the bell chime again to signal his departure.

Frantically pulling up the layers of your dress, you unearth Eddie. He quits crouching and lays strewn out on his back, still half covered by your skirt, your feet on either side of his hips while he makes no effort to get back up.

"I wasn't done", he pout, lips pink and glossy with you.

He's quite literally gotten your panties in a twist now as the gusset has been pulled inside out.

"I just saved your ass. Is that all you have to say to me?", you ask surly, appearing more stern than you actually feel.

"No. You're beautiful" he says, looking at you once more like he had when he first set eyes on you like this. Only now he's not scared to touch you the way you like. The only chips and cracks he'll ever inflict on you are the ones you will let him, the ones you yearn for in the name of pleasure. And you know he'll fill them back in all good as new anyway with all the unending affection he'll pour into you. It isn't a maybe. It's a certainty.

"And I'm trying to thank you", he winks back at you.

This wasn't how you wanted him to see the dress but in some way, you ought to have expected something like this to happen. Well, not exactly this but things rarely ever went according to plan with Eddie. But with that came so much excitement, you can't help but like the unpredictability of it all. Besides, he always came through in the end.

"You really like it?", you ask hopefully, swishing your skirt from side to side so he could see it move.

"Are you kidding? darlin' you're a knockout," he moves the hem of your dress out the way so you can clearly see the boner he's got waiting for you behind those jeans.

"How pissed do you think Nat will be if you give me a tour of the dressing room?"

"Eddie there's not going to be a piece of this left if I let you do that", you giggle.

"Oh come on. maybe a little rip or two. nothing she can't fix. I'll be good. I'll be careful, I promise."

You gulp, remembering her warning regarding stains.

It's a good that she's the forgiving type.

"Hmm...somewhat to moderately", you answer his question. "So far as we clean up right and I pay her extra."

With that he plunges his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of 50's secured with rubber bands of all colors.

"Done"