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jqmalikhsgib · 14 hours ago

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Say it Back, Please (Part 1/2)

This is the winner of the next Eddie Fic Poll I set up! I hope everyone enjoys it!!

About: Eddie Munson x Adopted daughter! Hopper! Reader

A/N: Inspired by this post I decided to make this into 2 parts. Mainly because I don't like to write long one shots. And this is actually the longest one shot I've ever written so yeah. Part 2 will be coming out in the next couple of days since it's almost done.

Characters: Eddie Munson, You (eldest daughter of Hopper), Jim Hopper, Steve Harrington, El/Jane Hopper, and mentions of Mike Wheeler and Joyce Byers.

Summary: A drunk Eddie Munson decides to give Hopper his two cents on what it means to be a feminist. And let's it slip that he's dating his oldest daughter Y/n. (Story takes place one week before the events of Stranger Things 3. Eddie is 19 in the story. While Y/n is 18.)

Warnings: Intoxication, swearing, yelling, slight angst, Hopper not knowing boundaries, mentions of drug use, and drunk Eddie being stupid AF.

Word Count: 3,043

Friday, June 21st, 1985

“Wait you're dating Eddie?! As in Eddie Munson!" Steve said to you completely baffled.

You had finished your shift at J.C. Penny's and decided to stop by Scoops Ahoy on your way home. Only to end up having a very desperate Steve Harrington flirt with you. The flirting was very much one-sided. Since you were taken, if you weren't already in a relationship, you would have found it flattering. But alas, you were in a very happy relationship so you found it awkward. And Steve had to know it.

"Yeah. We've been dating for like... four months now. Why?" You shrugged as you took a lick of your ice cream cone, only for Steve to stare at you like a lunatic. He cleared his throat and proceeded to ramble.

"Well, I didn't think, Hopper. Uh. I mean your dad would let you date a guy like him."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes annoyed. You knew exactly what he meant by that. It was always the same thing. No matter who it was in town. It was always the same fucking thing. Eddie Munson is a freak! Eddie Munson should be in jail! Isn't your boyfriend a cult leader?! Blink twice if he's holding you hostage! But none of that was true. Eddie was just a boy. A very silly boy who made you smile. A boy you were so deeply in love with.

"I love how everyone always acts like Eddie is some wild animal. He's a human just like you and me, Steve."

"Yeah but... what happens when your dad finds out? I mean no offense or anything. But Hopper isn't exactly thrilled about your little sister and her boyfriend. So, wouldn't he act a similar way?"

"That's the thing, Stevie. He's not going to find out. Not until I'm ready." With that, you left Scoops Ahoy with a sway in your step. Nothing could go wrong.

Eddie was too far gone. He had had one too many beers and smoked a bit of pot. He was home alone and extremely bored. This meant that because he was unsupervised, it was time to do something stupid.

For weeks now, the thought of Jim Hopper screaming at him for dating his eldest daughter had haunted him. Yet, with a bit of alcohol and weed in his system, he felt unstoppable and extremely confident. Eddie felt that somehow, someway, he could convince Hopper that it wasn't a big deal that him dating you. That you and Eddie were made for each other. And that Hopper should be proud of the man his daughter decided to date.

Truthfully, Eddie wasn't scared of Hopper, well at least that was before he started dating you. Before the two of you got together, Eddie had thought that Hopper was nice. Kinda. Unlike most adults in Hawkins, he seemed to care about his well-being.

After all, any other police chief would have sent a younger Eddie Munson to juvenile detention. On account of all the petty crimes his younger self had committed. But Jim knew Eddie had had a troubled upbringing. Al Muson wasn't exactly the Dick Van Dyke type of dad. But more of a Bing Crosby type of dad. This is why it only made sense that Hopper must have pitied him or at least was naïve since he'd let him go with a warning at best. And at worst, would put him in a holding cell for a maximum of one afternoon. Normal police chiefs would have done much worse.

In his drunken state, Eddie figured that it was time to get it over with. You were scared about your father finding out about the two of you dating. And Eddie was sick of it. The main reason you kept it a secret was due to how your father reacted to your younger sister and her boyfriend's budding relationship. The way he behaves toward them is nothing less than a shitshow. Making you rather protective of Eddie and your relationship. To some, it may seem like you could be ashamed of Eddie but that was not it in the slightest. You were merely protective and nervous about what your father would say or do about it.

Eddie could understand it to some extent. You were precious to him. It only made sense that Hopper thought you were also precious. And sure, Eddie wasn't the brightest guy around but of course, he knew he was fucking trouble. So, he understood where you were coming from and how Hopper's reaction could be nothing but sour.

However, drunk Eddie didn't see it like that. Drunk Eddie was an idiot. And a major feminist in the sense that he believed that you were an adult and you didn't need your fucking dad's permission to date someone. So, drunk Eddie did what he did best. He decided to give Hopper his two cents by calling the police station and telling him off.

Eddie didn't know that station's number by heart. Which is why he spent a good twenty to thirty minutes looking through the yellow pages for it. Even in his drunk state, he knew that if he simply called 911 he wouldn't get to Hopper directly. Even drunk Eddie knew that calling the cops directly was a bad idea and a potential crime. So, he used his diligence in trying to find the number to the station.

Upon finding it Eddie had dialed it more than three different times into his uncle's rotary phone. Each time, he had forgotten a number forcing him to start over. It wasn't until the fifth or sixth time that it had worked. Though the number he had called wasn't the police station. But some old lady refused to let him hang up before she talked about her cats for at least fifteen minutes. That accidental call should have sobered Eddie up. However, it didn't, if anything it made him more persistent in getting it right the next time around. Which is exactly what he did.

Eddie was met with a female voice. She sounded peeved and cranky over the phone. He'd recognized it as Hopper's secretary? Maybe the station's secretary? Whoever she was, he knew her pretty well. (Well not well enough to remember her name. But that was drunk Eddie's fault.) She asked who was speaking and what they wanted. But he went blank for a second. It wasn't until she threatened to hang up that Eddie answered.

"Uhhh... Eddie speaking. I gotta talk to Hopper."

"You want to talk to Hopper?" The older woman sounded like she was on the verge of laughing at him. As if she knew something he didn't but that didn't sway his confidence.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why?"

"Uhhh..."

"Wait. Is this Edward Munson?"

"Yeah." He cringed as he heard her call him by his first name. He would have told her off for calling him Edward. But he was so fucking drunk. That he decided that this time, he'd let it slide.

"Fine. I'll put you through."

Eddie grinned. He was somewhat shocked. He figured he had to plead his case with her at least. Or even had to bribe her. But it seemed like it was the fucking easy. Perhaps, it was nothing but smooth sailing from here?

Hopper was one phone call away from burning down all of Hawkins. El had been crying all day about something stupid Mike fucking Wheeler had done. His coffee was burnt this morning. The fax machine had been jammed earlier in the day. So, Hopper decided it was time to put the stupid machine out of its misery. (He purposely broke it.) And on top of that, Joyce Byers canceled their date. Again.

The only good thing about today was when his eldest daughter brought him his lunch and hung out with him before your shift at the mall. She had just turned 18 and had graduated with honors. Hopper felt nothing but pride toward his eldest daughter. She was smart, pretty, and knew how to stay out of trouble. He was also delighted that she wasn't currently dating anybody. Hopper had enough to worry about with El dating Mike. If his other teenager was in a relationship, he was pretty sure he'd blow his brains out. The man could truly not handle another dramatic teenager in love.

When the phone rang out at 7:40 pm Hopper was nothing but annoyed. His shift was nearly over, and yet some idiot decided now was the time to cause trouble. Hopper answered it on the third ring only to be greeted by an annoyed Flo - the station's secretary.

"Hopper, why did you take so long?" She squawked, only for him to pull the phone receiver away from his ear. He was too tired to hear her bitch about nothing. Once she had finished her spiel, Hopper answered her.

"What is it?"

"You have a call from one of the Munsons."

"Which one? As far as I'm aware. Al Munson is still in prison. So, it's either his brother Wayne or the punk."

"It's the punk. And he's drunk."

Hopper grunted and nearly dropped his phone receiver. He didn't have time for that brat. Edward "Eddie" Munson was three steps away from ending up like his old man. And if Hopper had it his way, he would have been sent off to military school long ago. But Eddie wasn't his kid. So, as far as Jim Hopper was concerned. The only attitude he had toward the young Munson boy was nothing but: not my circus, not my monkey.

"Did he tell you why he was calling?"

"No. I figured you could handle it."

"Flo. Your job is to be a secretary. That means, as a secretary, you ask pointless questions. So that, I don't have to answer pointless calls. If he's truly drunk. Then it's probably not important." With that, Hopper hung up the phone.

Hopper stood up and stretched. As he gathered his things he decided that 7:45 was early enough for him to go home. After all, he was the chief of police. It didn't matter if he went home fifteen minutes early. Nobody could stop him.

But then the phone rang again. Meaning Flo had decided to ask Eddie what he was calling for. Which meant he had to answer the phone. Hopper peeked his head down the hallway, flashed Flo the bird, and then answered the phone.

"What Flo?"

"He says it's about your eldest daughter."

Hopper was taken aback. From what he knew about Eddie, he didn't exactly have a lot of friends. The kid was weird and played that stupid game that almost every nerdy brat in town played. Such as Mike Wheeler. You certainly never mentioned Eddie Munson before. At least, he was certain that you hadn't. From what he knew about you and him, the two of you were from very different social groups. Eddie was a loser deadbeat like his father. While you were a promising young woman who was going to community college next semester. Then would later transfer to a prestigious university.

The fact that Eddie was calling about you puzzled and concerned him. Was there a chance that you got into a car accident?! Were you hurt in some way?! He had to know.

"Connect me." He said, sternly. Leaving Flo to do just that.

"Where's Y/n? Is she hurt?" Hopper yelled over the phone. Eddie sat up from his slumped-over position on his uncle's couch. He felt panic at the sound of Hopper yelling at him. Eddie didn't expect him to yell already. He literally just fucking called.

"Uhhh. She's fine. I mean - I haven't seen her recently. But like she's fine from what I know." Eddie stuttered.

He was starting to realize that this brilliant idea was actually a shitty fucking idea. One that he could have easily avoided if he hadn't called Jim Hopper. But alas, drunk Eddie decided it was a great idea meaning the now more sober-ish Eddie would pay for the consequences of his actions.

"Then why the hell are you calling about her? Do you know her?"

"Uhhh... Yeah. I mean we're in the same class. Well, we were in the same class. She's pretty cool."

Hopper scoffed at that. "So, you're calling me... To tell me that you think my daughter is cool? What are you asking for her hand in marriage or some shit?" Hopper then laughed loudly. It dawned on Eddie quickly that Hopper was mocking him. The thought of you and Eddie ever being married was funny to him. That made him angry.

"What. You think I'm not good enough for her?" Eddie's grip on the phone tightens. He felt more alert than before.

" Oh, I know you're not good enough for her. She'd never date a loser like you. Let alone marry a loser like you. She's too smart to do something so foolish."

"Well, that's fucking funny. Because she is dating me. Oh, and by the way. She's not an idiot. She's a goddamn genuis who can date whoever she wants because she's a grown adult. You know. I might just propose to her now. How's that sound pop?"

With that, Eddie hung up. He was sweating. And felt like he was on the verge of a fucking heart attack. What were the chances of Hopper coming to his Uncle's trailer to beat him up? Probably fucking high since Hopper knew where he lived.

Quickly an idea comes to him. It's a brash idea. But like everything about tonight, he decided to take it. Eddie rushes outside of his Uncle's trailer and goes to the trailer three plots down. There on the porch was one of his neighbor's bikes. He rides it to Gareth's house. He decides to hide out there until the end of the night.

El and you were watching TV on the couch when your father burst through the door. It was nearly ten o'clock at night. And you'd assumed that Joyce Byer had finally gone out to go on a date with him. But the look on his face was nothing less than panic and stress. You stood up, while El continued to watch Cheers.

"What happened?" You asked, you worried that something Upside Down-related had happened. But that couldn't be the case. El had closed the gate. There was no way it could reopen, right? To your shock, your father asks you a much different question.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Your father all but shouted. El turned off the TV using her mind powers. Then turned toward the two of you and smirked. Enjoying the drama.

"What? I don't have a boyfriend." You laughed loudly.

You quickly tried to remember the things that your father taught you about how to tell if someone was lying. If someone changes the tone of their voice that is a clear indicator. If someone avoided eye contact that was another one. The list went on but you couldn't remember it all. You decided that you had to take this with a calm approach if you wanted him to believe you.

"Is that so? Well, guess who called today?" Your father said as he put his hands on his hips.

"Who called? Was it Y/n's boyfriend?" El said in a sing-song voice. You glared at her and she simply stuck her tongue out. You hated it when she acted this way. She could be such a little sister whenever you got into trouble.

"Glad you asked Jane. Y/n do you by any chance know who called?" You wanted to roll your eyes at your father's condescending tone. But you knew that would only worsen the situation. Instead, you decided to play coy.

"Well, it sounds like it was my supposed boyfriend. That can't be true. Since I don't have one." You smiled sweetly. But the dark look in your father's eyes indicated that he wasn't buying it. He took a step forward and El only giggled with delight.

"Is that so? Well according to Eddie Munson, you do. He also says that you're dating."

Fuck. Eddie. Fuck. You thought. It didn't make sense why your silly boyfriend would call your dad just to tell him that you're dating. The only plausible answer was that Eddie was either drunk or high when he did it. Or he'd been dared to do it by Jeff or Gareth. You assumed the former. You knew for certain that no money in the world could convince him to tell Hopper about the two of you. He'd never be so cruel. When it came to drunk Eddie, however, that was another story. Drunk Eddie was a fucking idiot.

"He must have been drunk, Dad. If he told you that. Because I don't even know the guy. We've literally only talked twice. And that was because of some school project." You shrugged your shoulders and faked a yawn. "Is this over? Because I gotta be at work at 8. So, I should probably get to bed."

You started to walk out of the living room but your father stopped you. By putting his arm out blocking you from leaving. It was such a simple action and yet it sent a shiver down your spine. You slowly looked up at your father and made direct eye contact. You couldn't determine the look in his eyes. It was no longer anger but perhaps, remorse. Whatever it was it only made you more nervous.

"Y/n. You would never lie to me right?"

"Of course not." You wanted to cringe at how easily you lied.

"Okay. Because if it turns out to be true. Well."

"Well, what Dad?" El said, interrupting him. You were a thousand percent certain that your little sister was still grinning like an idiot. You loved her to death but in this moment you felt like you could cause her death.

"Let's not get to the well part. Now, shall we?" Your father chuckled and then walked off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. You then slipped away to get ready for bed. That night you hardly slept a wink.

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jqmalikhsgib · 23 hours ago

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Hello!!! I’ve got a request. Say wife!reader works in the fbi or in some kind of specialty field she gets called in to consult the team for the first time. Would they be professional or sweet with Hotch? Would also be so cute to see how the team reacts to their dynamic!!

expert opinion

definitely an equal part of both 💓 cw; consultant fem!reader, typical cm case violence, established relationship, fluff <333

As you approached the door to his office, you could already hear the familiar sound of your husband’s voice from the other side.

You smiled to yourself; hearing his confident conversational voice, putting out fires from the sound of it. After a second, you rapped your knuckles against the door – already slightly ajar – and leaned in hesitantly, wary of disturbing him in case the conversation he was having was of any particular importance.

Aaron's eyes lifted at the intrusion, his eyes softening from his professional rigidity - revealing a flicker of warmth - at his wife. Your face equally formed into one of gentle greeting. Into the phone, he said, "I'll have to give you a call back."

Hanging up and approaching you, his lips quirked into a smile. "Hi sweetheart."

"Hi honey," His head tilted downward, his lips meeting yours in a quick, sweet kiss. "Hope I wasn't interrupting anything important."

"No, no. You're right on time, I knew I married you for a reason." His teasing left him lightly, before his dark brows drew over his eyes. It wasn't as profound if you were anyone else; there was a gentleness to them, more quizzical than anything else. "I appreciate you taking the time to come in." His playfulness returned for just a moment more, "I'll have to show you how much later. Did you get a chance to review the file I sent over?"

"Is that a promise?' You raised your eyebrows, gaining a cheeky smirk from Aaron - who was never one to go back on his word. "And profusely, yes."

"Perfect." Something to look forward to after whatever unpleasantness awaited on this case. "C'mon, the team's waiting."

His hand found the small of your back, shutting his door and guiding you down the walkway. He was to your right, creating a sense of protectiveness from the bullpen, and kept the natural affection under wraps.

His touch only disappeared as you entered the roundtable room, the sound of your heels against the vinyl flooring drawing focus. Aaron squared his shoulders, strictly switching into Unit Chief mode.

"Oh, we got the Mrs. today?" Morgan commented as the two of you entered in perfect sync. "Hotchners taking the BAU over?"

You grinned, "Nice to see you too, Derek."

"My lovely!" Penelope abandoned her spot at the front near the screen to throw her arms around you in an embrace. She squeezed you, tilting you side to side. "How I've missed you!"

"Keeping Aaron on his toes, I hope." Dave chimed in, looking far too amused for his own good.

"Of course," you laughed.

"We can make nice later." Aaron commented, causing Penelope to release you and circling back to the subject at hand. If he hadn't, the team would’ve been more than happy to spend an hour catching up with you. "She's here to assist us with further analyzing the COD of the victims."

With the unsub's sadistic way of dissecting an individual, your expertise as a forensic pathologist made you more than qualified to retrace the story written within the body; each wound a deliberate signature etched in the flesh. You knew how to separate chaos from precision, rage from ritual. Where others saw horror, you saw patterns; the twisted messages left behind.

So when Aaron called and asked for your help, you hadn't hesitated to free up a portion of your day.

"Our hero." JJ shuddered, crossing her arms in disgust. "It sure is something."

"I'm more than happy to help." You assured, your tone warm and sincere, leaving no doubt that your willingness was genuine. "Aaron sent over the ME's findings earlier, and I have a few insights that I hope will be helpful."

His first name rolled off your tongue, it not even occurring to you to refer to him as Hotch, and why would you? He's always been Aaron. The others, however, found it quite novel, trading bemused looks with each other around the table.

Aaron pulled a chair out for you, only taking his own once you were seated. There was a gleam of pride in his eyes as he prompted, "What have you got for us?"

"So, it appears..."

As you listed off your findings, Aaron couldn’t help but listen in complete awe of you. He’d known you were intelligent, of course, and he was aware – in an abstract sense – that you were good at your job, but this was the first time he’d seen you in your element.

Referencing parts of the autopsy report, distinguishing patterns in the crime scene images - the unrestrained rage and the violence. You even pointed out a signature hidden within, something so minuscule it could've been easily missed. And all through your spiel you didn't bat an eye or hesitate - you were completely confident in what you knew. A true professional.

While Aaron was paying thorough attention to your points, he couldn’t help but set aside some room to fawn over you, admiration filling his chest.

His wife was a badass, to say the least.

"Wow." Emily blinked once you finished, turning towards him. "Can we keep her?"

"I wouldn't argue against that." He exchanged a glance with you, his lips lifting lightly at the ends. Thank you.

Your hand immediately found his under the table, squeezing gently. You’d do the same for me.

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jqmalikhsgib · 1 day ago

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𝒀𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂'𝒂𝒎

Summary: Aaron Hotchner is not a man of many words — he prefers silence, gesture, subtle care. You have learned to listen. Warning: I don't think this can even be considered a story in itself. It's more about my kink for tough men who obey their wives in silence. Delusions WC: 1 093

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You knew that Aaron Hotchner was not an easy man.

He was – for lack of a more delicate term – emotionally constipated. And the chronic stress of his job made it worse. He is a person who values justice a lot, and yes, he manages to apply it at work. But sometimes willpower alone is not enough, luck is not always on your side – even if he doesn't say it out loud, you know it affects him.

Aaron carried all of this in silence – never showing how tired he was, never asking for help.

He is extremely protective, to an almost suffocating degree. Not only of you and Jack, but of the team as well – which means he takes on more responsibilities than any healthy human being should try to handle.

Even so – and perhaps precisely because of this – he is a great husband.

Aaron Hotchner is the most romantic person you know.

Of course, if you tried to verbalize this to him, Aaron would give a half-smile, mumbling in mockery.

“Tzz, you’re starting to get sleep deprived. Let’s go to sleep, honey.”

But you could see it. You knew.

He didn’t say “I love you” often, or make big public declarations—it wasn’t necessary. You learned to watch the way he loved.

He would show up with a bouquet of tulips every month on the twentieth (the date you got married)— a silent ritual he followed to the letter, whether you were traveling to a case or at home. If a case was particularly difficult for you, he would sit next to you on the jet in silence, intertwine your fingers with his, and with his free hand, place a cup of tea and your favorite candy in front of you.

You mentioned once — just once — that your lower back hurt during your period. It was a casual comment, something so small that you didn’t even remember why it was important to the conversation. But he kept it in mind. In the months that followed, he would pay attention to every phase of your cycle. Every tiny expression on your face—from a slight frown when you bent down to pick up something that had fallen on the floor — didn’t go unnoticed.

Aaron would come to you at the end of the day, placing a quick kiss on your lips and a folded note in your hand.

a voucher for a massage.

And when you were feeling especially needy — which happened more often than you’d like to admit out loud — he’d notice before you could even open your mouth. Aaron would drag you to sit on his lap while he finished his reports.

Even if it was hard to write. Even if his leg went numb. He let you, because it was important to you. And because he loved you.

But there was one thing, one specific gesture, so simple, that melted you like jelly.

He didn’t make any decisions without asking your opinion first.

– After the wedding, you agreed to stay in his apartment instead of buying a house. The apartment was well located, practical, and safe. Besides, with the routine at BAU, it would be difficult to look for a house, deal with the renovation, and move. It was a lot of unnecessary stress.

The only problem is that Aaron is a very practical person, and takes the meaning of the word functional very seriously – things just needed to fulfill their purpose. A couch was a couch. And a curtain was just a piece of cloth that needed to block the sun's rays from coming in.

Worrying about the colors of the walls, matching the furniture in the house? No, that wasn't important to him.

But it was important to you, and that was the first thing you noticed. The wooden furniture in different tones, the three wallpapers in different colors and patterns. Not to mention the biggest affront to good taste, that damn striped curtain.

The decoration of the apartment was, honestly, terrible. But in his defense, Aaron was willing to make the place comfortable for you. In other words, he was so committed to transforming the apartment that he even mentioned changing the tiles in the bathroom if you wanted.

“You can decorate it however you want,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed over his chest, an amused smile on his lips when he noticed your expression of disgust.

“You promise?” , you asked, still staring at the couch as if it were a personal enemy.

“Of course, honey” , he assured, “where do you want to start?”

“I need a metal can.”

Aaron frowned. “What? Why?”

“I’ll start by burning these curtains.”

– Aaron woke up thirty minutes earlier than you every day. It was a deal you made, you take care of breakfast and he gets Jack ready for school. It was the kind of simple but essential deal that made the routine lighter without weighing on either side.

You were still half asleep, sunk into the soft sheets, hugging Aaron's pillow to fill the void in the bed and smell him – a mix of soap and cologne.

“Love?”

“Hm..?” You murmured, your voice hoarse. Opening your eyes slightly, trying to make out the figure near the wardrobe.

Aaron had his back to you, only with the white towel wrapped around his waist, still with small drops of water sliding down his back. His hair was damp and disheveled. He was holding two hangers.

“Gray or navy blue?”

You blinked slowly, trying to understand why the koala from your dream was calling you and your love and asking you to choose between two colors. You snuggled deeper into the bed, burying your head in the pillow. “I think… Navy blue.”

Aaron smiled, seeing your drowsy state. He hung the hangers back in the wardrobe and walked over to the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, before his lips brushed against your shoulders, leaving small kisses.

“Coffee in ten minutes?”

“Depends, if you want pancakes it’s ten minutes. Now if you want coffee in bed…” Before you can finish your sentence, he lightly bites your shoulder, making you let out a muffled laugh against the pillow.

“I can’t believe you’re flirting with me in your sleep,” he says, his tone full of disbelief – although he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Baby, I would learn necromancy to flirt with you after death,” you retort, turning your face slightly to face him.

Aaron lets out a snort of laughter. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, slapping your ass before standing up. “Come on, Mrs. Hotchner.”

“Call me that later,” you whine dramatically as you sink deeper into the sheets and mattress, “Now give me five more minutes, Mr. Koala.”

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jqmalikhsgib · 1 day ago

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summer lovin'

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader genre: smut w.c.: 6.7k a/n: shoutout to summer aka prime dbf season. this could technically be seen in the same universe as either of my other dbf!hotch fics but could also be a standalone, whatever you want <3 as always feedback fuels me ily

summary: After your dad thwarts your plan to have a not-date with Aaron at the drive-in movie theatre, you improvise.

c.w.: 18+ MDNI, porn no plot, dbf!hotch, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, finger sucking, interrupted blowjob so hotch gets blue balls <3, one (1) hint of sir kink at the very end, praise kink, dirty talk, kinda fwb kinda dating hotch just needs to DTR already, no y/n

read below or on ao3 here <3

You’re at least 99% sure that summer was your favorite time of the year.

You loved that you were only a short ten-minute drive to the beach and could spend the whole day in your new bikini out by the water. You loved the cookouts that your dad always threw in your backyard, the smoke of the burgers on the grill and fresh chlorine from the pool swirling in the air. You loved staying out too late with your friends, drunk and attempting to quietly stumble through your front door as if you were a high schooler again.

But your favorite part about summer? Coming home and spending time with your dad’s best friend.

You and Hotch have been having a summer fling every time you visited for the past two years. Though, you wonder if it could still be considered a fling anymore if it lasted for more than one summer and the two of you would meet if he had a case in your state, no matter the season.

This summer was no exception. Your dad had been promoted last month, which meant that he was called into the office at least every day, thus leaving the house empty for your lonesome self.

“It’s fine,” you had said, waving him off. He had been worried that you felt like he wasn’t spending enough time together as you were only really able to see each other once a year due to your busy schedule. “If I’m bored, I’ll just drive over to Aaron’s place to bother him.”

He didn’t know that you already had your keys tucked into your purse and nothing underneath your dress, so he rolled his eyes and laughed, telling you to not to bother him too much.

Aaron’s schedule often didn’t allow time for you to spend as much time with him as you wanted, so it wasn’t entirely your fault that you had to jump at any opportunity that presented itself. It’s not like you were able to drop down to your knees and scoot in between his thighs underneath your kitchen table when he was over for dinner like you often did at his apartment, his expensive belt unbuckled and his large hand pushing down at the crown of your head.

You would almost feel bad at occupying all of Aaron’s free time if he didn’t clearly express that he didn’t mind, often accompanied with a half-smile he would try to hide and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

Now, it was the first week of August and you were starting to panic.

Your entire summer flew by you, now nothing but a blur of warm days by the pool and Aaron’s head in between your legs. You seriously don’t think you’ve had this many orgasms since you were a teenager and you went to a Spencer’s to buy a vibrator for the first time.

You’ve been trying to ignore that nagging anxiety that’s been slowly forming since the middle of the summer, but now it was a full-fledged nuisance. Now, you were just that desperate enough to spend as much time with Aaron as possible before you had to go back home to your lonely little apartment to work your lonely little job.

You try to ignore the fact that you were even willing to forgo the mind-blowing orgasms that often followed being in his company. Or the fact that you had started to think about him in non-sexual ways, such as wondering whether he had eaten that day or whether he was able to ask Jack about his science fair project that he wasn’t able to help with.

You’re laying out by the pool and scrolling on your phone, skin warm from the afternoon sun and clad in your cutest bikini, when you get the idea. Or, rather, Instagram gives you the idea in the form of multiple typos and an oversaturated picture.

It’s an ad for a local drive-in movie theatre that you didn’t know even existed announcing what they were featuring for the end of summer. Their last movie was allegedly tonight, a late showing of Grease, and claimed they still had several tickets available.

As if on cue, you hear the telltale crunching of gravel of Aaron pulling up into the driveway. A wicked smile splits your face. It was like a sign from God, or gods, or whatever the hell was out there as they served the perfect date night idea to you in the form of a badly photoshopped ad on your phone.

Your dad was still home, working at the kitchen island, but you knew that Aaron had timed it perfectly where only ten minutes after he showed up, your dad was going to get a call asking for him to come into the office. You’re going to wave him off, saying that you were fine with learning how to occupy yourself, and Aaron would claim to head out a couple minutes after him after dropping something off in his office down the hall. Most times, your dad’s car would have just barely disappeared down the street before Aaron’s spinning you around by the hips to bend over that same kitchen island and shucking your denim cutoffs down your legs.

It was the same routine that you’ve had all summer. It was nearly foolproof.

When you step through the doorway and into the kitchen, you act surprised when you spot Aaron already leaning with his hip against the stove, deliciously toned arms crossed over his sturdy chest as he was already deep in conversation with your dad about something or another.

Your dad looks away to type something painstaking slow on his laptop and Aaron takes the opportunity to raise his eyebrow at you, lazy gaze taking in your and your bright pink bikini. You bite back a smirk when his eyes get stuck on your chest, your nipples undoubtedly stiff and poking through the damp fabric at the superior air conditioning of the house.

“Hey you,” you say, feigning nonchalance. You come to stand by your dad and lean forwards on the kitchen island, inadvertently pushing your breasts up. You smile when you notice Aaron’s jaw clenching as he tries not to let his eyes stray lower than your face. “What are you doing here?”

He clears his throat and your smile grows wider when you spot the vein in his neck pulsing. “Just came to drop some files off for your dad.”

Aaron’s always coming over with papers and files that you know nothing about the contents of. You wonder if they must actually be important since he’s been using that same excuse nearly every single day for the past two months.

“Yeah, yeah,” your dad mutters, still focused on the fluorescent blue screen with his reading glasses precariously hanging on the tip of his nose.

You were nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement; any second now, your dad’s phone was going to ring and he’s going to be swept away to the office. Now was your perfect chance to bring up the movie with him where only a couple of minutes later, he’ll give you an apologetic look and ruffle your hair, telling you next time with a regretful tinge to his voice. He would have no idea that you had plans to drag his best friend with you instead.

“Dad, what are your thoughts on going to this drive-in movie a couple blocks away here in a little bit?” you ask, biting at your bottom lip to prevent breaking out in giggles. “I’ve never been to one.”

Aaron’s shuffling through the files, seemingly lost in thought, but you knew he was watching you out of the corner of his eye, interest piqued. He’s grown familiar with your antics and the way you seemingly always had a plan to appear busy when you knew your dad was going to be out. To not raise suspicion, you had said.

“Never been?” your dad finally raises his head up from that, eyes wide as he glances at you, and then Aaron. “Can you believe that?”

He chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Somehow, I can.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if the movie’s soon, we should probably get ready and head out,” your dad says, completely ignoring you. You elbow him in the side and he elbows you right back.

He slams his laptop closed and groans when he gets off the bar stool, knees popping in the process. When he’s making his way to his bedroom to get ready, you frown and glance repeatedly at the clock. They should’ve called him about ten minutes ago.

“Hey dad,” you call out. “Are you working today?”

He’s in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt when he turns around, confusion written all over his face. “No, sweetie, I thought I told you that I decided to call out today,” he says, chuckling to himself. “Good thing you brought up that drive-in thing because I had nothing planned. Let me change and we can go.”

You may be a bit dramatic but you swear you thought the walls were caving in, anxiety causing your heartbeat to spike in rhythm as you tried to subtly pick your jaw off the floor and be casual. “Oh? You didn’t have to do that, dad.”

He doesn’t even bother looking back at you. “Of course I had to, we’ve barely seen each other all summer! Now come on, let’s get going.”

And then he’s disappearing into his bedroom with the click of a door and you’re stuck with the realization that not only are you going to be spending the next two and a half hours in the back of a car with Aaron, but also with your father sitting right next to you.

You’re still staring at the polished wood of your dad’s bedroom door, the heavy weight of Aaron’s eyes on the back of your head. You could already see the amused twist of his mouth, the slight worried furrow in his forehead that would ultimately give him away.

This wasn’t the first time your plans were thwarted by your dad and your inability to plan accordingly, such as when you had to spend the afternoon by the pool in your bikini and not nude like you had initially wanted, but you still felt a bit lousy.

When you finally face him, you were surprised to find him wearing a fond, yet exasperated expression. It melts his usual hardened appearance, making him appear younger and like the man you’ve been messing around with all summer.

He pushes himself off the kitchen counter and approaches you. Your heart thumps erratically in your sternum, something that’s been occurring a lot recently, but you chalk it up to the way Aaron’s sleeves stretch over his biceps or the way the dark red shade of his shirt makes his stomach appear softer.

He quickly leans into you and your heart skips, impossibly thinking he was actually going to kiss you with your father in the same room.

You’re not sure whether you were disappointed or relieved when he’s kissing the crown of your head, brief enough for you to get a taste of his cologne before it’s immediately ripped away from you.

“Go get ready,” he mutters, voice low and soft so there wasn’t any chance for your father to hear him. “We’ll make it work.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re strapped into the backseat of Aaron’s Range Rover, since he has more trunk room than either of your cars, a pile of blankets and snacks on the seat next to you, and watching out the window at the bright lights of the streetlamps as you pull into the parking lot of the theatre.

With the sun setting over the horizon, painting the sky in a picturesque orange and purple hue, came the cooler summer breeze blowing through your rolled down window. The tempting aroma of buttery popcorn and fried dough filled the car as Aaron drove between the numerous rows of cars to find the perfect spot.

You felt on edge. You’ve been nearly silent for the entire duration of the ten-minute drive as they continued to talk about work, as if the entire point of this outing was to definitively not talk about work, yet you didn’t mind.

You found Aaron entirely too distracting today. Every time your father was preoccupied, he was meeting your eyes through the rearview mirror, silently raising an eyebrow whenever you would smile innocently at him.

He knew you were up to something—he was able to read you as soon as you bounded downstairs in that strappy plain white sundress, the lace hem barely brushing your thighs, and smelling like his favorite perfume. You had smiled him just as innocently then too, ignoring the rush of heat that flooded your veins when his eyes darkened and his jaw tightened.

The spot he had pulled the car into was towards the back, close enough where you got a good view of the screen, but secluded enough where you wouldn’t be bothered by the loud concession stand or the group of teenagers laughing several cars over.

You immediately bounced out of the car as soon as it was set in park, arms filled with the numerous blankets you found laying around the house to set up in the backseat. You let Aaron push the backseats down and watch with a grin as he steps away. As smart as they were, neither your dad or Aaron would have the forethought to set the ugly blankets on the bottom and the fluffy and more comfortable blankets on top.

You clamber up into the trunk, sitting right in the middle with your legs splayed out and your sandaled feet hanging over the edge. Although you were secretly glad that Aaron convinced the two of you to take his car for the extra wiggle room, you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction.

Aaron climbs in next to you, groaning at the way his knees pop and the way his back isn’t fully supported as much as he would like. Even with how roomy the car’s trunk was, his jean-clad thigh still brushes against your bare one where the hem of your dress has ridden up.

You expect your dad to follow, with similar old man groaning and bones popping, probably even knocking against your shoulder with his hip, yet an exhilarated thrill runs through you when he says, “I’m going to get some popcorn, did you guys want anything?”

You clear your throat and make yourself appear busy by grabbing a spare throw blanket to throw over your bare legs, ducking your head to hide the devilish smile that threatens to form. “Nope, I brought all the salty and sugary snacks I could ever need.”

“I’m alright, thanks,” Aaron says, polite as ever, as if he couldn’t sense your desire to jump his bones at that very second.

Your father shrugs before leaving you two, just as the lights in the parking lot cut off and the only way you were even able to see your hand in front of you was from the giant screen and the glow of the bustling concession stands behind you.

You’re tempted to scold him, remind him what his doctor had said about cutting back on butter, but you honestly couldn’t pass up this opportunity to spend a couple minutes alone with Aaron. It didn’t help your case when you saw how long the concession line was, nearly wrapping around the entire carnival-esque building, so you knew you had more than enough time.

You really were initially planning on actually watching the movie, maybe grabbing his hand to hold underneath a blanket, but he just looked so good in a casual setting and not wearing those unfairly tight suits he often wore whenever he would pick you up outside the house, smelling like dried ink and lukewarm coffee.

You watch out of the corner of your eye as Hotch scoots down a bit in his seat, actually relaxing for once, as the movie starts. You wince at the way the music blares, a bit louder than you were comfortable with, and shuffle a bit closer to the furnace that is Aaron, pressing the length of your body against his.

He stiffens. His breath catches when you throw your blanket over his legs, now concealing both of your laps, and your chest brushes against his arm. He can probably tell by now that you decided to forgo a bra.

“Just making sure I don’t hog the blanket,” you say with a smile when he glances at you.

He seems to believe you, not expecting you to pull any funny business when you were surrounded by so many people, as well as your father in the near vicinity.

Which is absolutely silly on his part, considering how often the two of you had hooked up in his car on the side of the road.

You take a deep breath, the smell of butter and the faintest whiff of Aaron’s cologne filling your lungs, before you pull the corner of the throw blanket over your shoulders and place your right hand onto the meat of Aaron’s thigh.

You have to stifle a giggle when he nearly jumps out of the car, head nearly bumping against the roof. You can sense the stern words threatening to come out when he turns to you, something about how you’re in public and how now wasn’t the time on the very tip of his tongue.

Yet you keep your eyes trained on the screen, pretending to be completely enraptured as the opening credits end and transitions to the front of the high school and definitely not being distracted at how perfectly firm his thigh was even through the thick fabric of his jeans.

He doesn’t say anything, maybe assuming that you were just feeling a bit extra touchy-feely like you do when you haven’t seen each other in a couple of days. He would call you needy, but you considered yourself grateful with what you got.

He decidedly does not say anything and turns back to face the screen.

Your heart is racing, blood in your ears nearly drowning out the noises of the people in the parking lot annoyingly reciting each line of the movie one after the other. You shift in your seat, thighs brushing against each other underneath your dress, and you try not to think about why this whole scenario was actually getting you riled up.

You wait a couple more minutes, enough to where you felt Aaron’s thigh slowly relax underneath your palm, before you begin to slowly trail it upwards.

The rough fabric of his jeans against your hand was strangely soothing, warm from the heat of his skin seeping through. The pads of your fingers slide along the inner seam and you allow a manicured nail to scratch against it before gently squeezing your hand around his entire thigh.

You keep your eyes fixed straight ahead; however you’re no longer taking in the movie as you’re too aware of the way Aaron’s breath deepens or the way he imperceptible spreads his thighs apart underneath the blanket.

When your hand reaches his crotch and you feel the very sizable bulge of his half-hard cock straining against his jeans, heat crackles down your spine, adamantly pooling in between your legs. You felt a strange surge of power and experimentally squeeze your hand around the length of him, coaxing a groan that Aaron tries to bite back. Your mouth waters.

He leans down until his lips were barely brushing against the shell of your ear, the low timbre of his velvet voice causing another flare of desire to burst in your chest. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you say, giving him one final squeeze, your thumb briefly brushing against the very tip of his cock. You lay your palm flat against the bulge and wonder if precum has stared leaking through his boxers yet.

“Nothing?” And then it’s his turn to snake his arm underneath the protective guise of the blanket, over your chest, and away from prying eyes to place his own hand on your bare thigh.

Your heart rate kicks up, face suddenly feeling heated in a way you couldn’t blame the summer heat for. Aaron’s hands have always been ridiculously large, with thick fingers and rough skin mottled with endearing age spots. They were one of your favorite things about him, especially when he put them to good use.

Like he is now.

He’s squeezing the flesh of your thigh, causing you to grip the fabric of his jeans at the inseam, breath growing heavier. He doesn’t bother teasing, completely aware of the time restraint and the fact that you were surrounded by a third of the town, and when his fingertips brush against your pussy, he expects to find your favorite pair of light blue lace panties.

When he brushes against your skin instead, he pauses. You inadvertently hold your breath, not so subtly spreading your thighs apart underneath the blanket. Your left knee pokes out from the edge.

“It doesn’t look like nothing since you’re not wearing anything underneath that dress of yours.” And then he’s yanking your thighs further apart and dragging his fingertips along the seam of your pussy. He avoids your throbbing clit and takes his time to barely dip into your dripping entrance before he’s spreading your wetness in between your folds.

You have to bite back a gasp, your grip tightening where you still have a handful of denim. You resist the urge to arch your back into his touch, instead scooting down in your seat so Aaron would be able to effortlessly thrust one of those deliciously thick fingers inside of you. Your sandal dangles precariously off your foot as it hangs over the edge of the trunk.

“It’s hot out…” Your voice sounds weak even to you, your breaths coming out ragged as you attempt to cant your hips up in an effort to get Aaron to touch you where you’re nearly throbbing for him.

He hums before he’s sliding his middle finger inside of you, causing your entire body to jolt and your jaw to fall open. You bring your legs up, planting your feet onto the truck and allowing the blanket still on your lap to shield your… activities from anyone if they decided to stroll by. You squeeze your eyes shut and let your head loll onto Aaron’s sturdy shoulder.

If anyone decided to look over at the two of you, they would assume that you were a couple, albeit an odd one, casually cozying up during a date night at the drive-in movies. There were plenty of couples in the parking lot, the singing and lines being repeated back quieting down as the crowd became enthralled with a movie they’ve seen a hundred of times.

The next song in the movie plays, effectively drowning out the filthy sounds of your pussy as Aaron effortlessly slides another finger inside of you, still narrowly avoiding your clit. You let out a low moan under your breath and Aaron has to shush you.

“You have to be quiet, sweetheart,” he mutters, as if it was the easiest thing in the world and not like you were living out your horniest fantasies with a man old enough to be your father.

That thought, dirty and sinful, causes you to clench around his fingers and for you to bury your face in Aaron’s neck to quiet the wet gasps that threaten to come out of you.

You think Aaron chuckles at your reaction but you can’t even bother to be mad because his pace increases, and the indecent sound of you somehow getting wetter, his palm slapping against your clit and just barely giving you enough stimulation has your thighs trembling.

You thank every God that ever existed that Aaron was left-handed as he steadily thrusts his fingers in and out of you, curling his fingers just so to hit that spot that makes you nearly cry out, but it’s not enough.

You have to muffle your noises against the skin of Aaron’s throat, the strong clean smell of his cologne mixing in with sweat had your mind spinning, stoking at the arousal that was building faster and stronger with each second that passed.

“Aaron…” you whimper, abandoning where you were pathetically attempting to rub his cock through his jeans to take a hold of forearm.

He doesn’t stop. In fact, your grip on him seems to make him go faster, deeper. He tilts his head to press his lips to your forehead and then quietly asks “Are you going to come for me, honey? In front of all these people?”

You whine, shaking your head and burying your face further into him, words catching in your throat and desperately hoping he would know exactly what you needed.

He makes a faux sympathetic noise. “Your pussy needs a little bit more, doesn’t she?”

To your absolute horror, he slowly takes his fingers out of your pussy and you make a pitiful noise, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes at the utter confusion and annoyance swirling in your chest as you lift your head up from his shoulder.

“Wha—”

He brings his free hand up to your face, glowing with an array of flashing colors from the screen. You’re barely able to discern the dark glint in his eyes, pupils wide and his lips parted as he breathes heavily. “Suck.”

Before you could even think, realize that you’re only a couple feet away from strangers and that any of the people walking back from the concession stand could pass by you, one of them possibly even being your own fucking father, you’re meeting his gaze and obediently parting your lips to let him slide two fingers into your mouth.

You can feel the corners of your lips stretch, accommodating the girth of his fingers, his skin tasting clean with a faint hint of your lavender soap he used before you left and his rough callouses brushing against your tongue. You make sure to swirl your tongue over his fingers sloppily despite knowing you wouldn’t need it, have never needed it, because Aaron was able to have you dripping down your thighs with just one word.

You hollow your cheeks, peering up at him from underneath your eyelashes, and your clit throbs painfully when he wordlessly slides his fingers deeper into your mouth.

When he pulls his hand away, a trail of your saliva follows, connecting your spit-slick mouth to him. The vulgar sight causes your face to heat up.

“Good girl.”

The praise nearly lights you from the inside out, your thighs instinctively parting wider as his wet hand dips underneath the blanket to caress your folds again.

You’re completely drenched, your inner thighs sticky with your arousal, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were leaving a wet spot on the blankets underneath you.

You pay that no mind, completely unable to, as Aaron easily slides the two fingers that was just in your mouth into your aching pussy with a wet noise. He immediately starts fucking into you, his thumb circling your throbbing clit at a maddeningly steady pace, now focused on pushing you over the edge as soon as possible.

A strangled moan erupts from you, caught off guard at the onslaught of pleasure running hot through your body, and Aaron is immediately tilting down to capture your lips in a kiss.

You’re distantly aware that he hasn’t kissed you at all today, not even while he’s been fingering you in public underneath a blanket, and the revelation nearly causes a rise in unseated annoyance to spark in your chest if it weren’t for the fact that you felt your muscles tensing and your lower belly coiling with your impending orgasm.

His mouth is hungry against yours, tongue sliding into yours as he easily swallows the steady stream of your moans as he fingers you faster, rubs your clit a bit rougher.

When you pull away, chest feeling tight at the lack of oxygen, you manage to let out a high-pitched whine against his lips that you hope understands as your hips roll up to meet his thrusts, not even caring if the lewd wet noises of your pussy was audible over the movie.

“You better come before your dad gets back.”

The low tone of his voice simmers through you as he’s curling his fingers, nearly grinding them into you, and you’re biting your bottom lip to muffle your moan. Your pussy clenches around him, hips stuttering into his thrusts as you come so hard you swear your vision blurs around the edges.

He continues to fuck into you, letting you ride it out, and you have to push his wrist away while your ears were still ringing as your oversensitive clit begins to throb. You felt sluggish and like you’re one second away from melting through the floor of the car, your entire body limp and sated.

You barely wince when he slides his fingers out of you and discreetly wipes your leftover slick onto the blanket you both were sitting on. You lean your head back onto the headrest, tilting slightly away from the warmth of Aaron’s body as you desperately hoped a cool breeze would pick up and magically blow into the trunk of the car and onto your heated face.

Aaron reaches over your body for the forgotten bag of food, rummaging for the bag of salted pretzels he knows you packed because he knows you’re seconds away from begging for a snack. However, him straightening up and twisting his body into yours reminds you of the very sizeable shape of his hard cock visible through the crotch of his jeans.

Embarrassment floods through you as you remember that, despite your initial plan to pay attention to Aaron and tease him, it had totally backfired and you were the one who still got off. Despite him always assuring you not to worry about him, it just didn’t feel right, and plus, you wanted to.

Just like you expected, when you grab the bag of pretzels to toss aside to place your palm on his crotch where he’s still hard, he puts his hand over yours to stop you. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

You roll your eyes and knock his hand aside. “I want to.”

And then you tuck your legs primly underneath yourself and duck underneath the blanket, situating yourself until you were essentially kneeling over him and your face was merely inches away from the bulge in his jeans.

Aaron makes a strangled noise that you can barely hear over the sound of the movie still playing, but he doesn’t stop you as you’re expertly popping the button of his jeans open and dragging the zipper down. With some shuffling and maneuvering, his jeans and boxers are bunched around his thick thighs and his cock is out, curving against his stomach and flushed an angry red.

The heat of him is palpable, his heady musk stronger now thanks to the blanket over his lap, and you lick your lips, your cunt pulsing from arousal again. When you wrap your hand around him, his cock twitches and you can see Aaron’s hand fisting the edge of the blanket.

You could tell he was on edge, probably surprisingly closer than to he expected from just fingering you until you bit your lip raw and surrounded by a crowd of people. You smile wickedly at the thought that he was getting off to this just as much as you before you’re tilting your chin up and parting your lips over the head of his leaking cock.

You hear a muffled noise, most likely Aaron refraining from groaning out loud, as you open your mouth further to accommodate the girth of him as he slides deeper into you. You squeeze your hand around the base of him as you lower and lower until the head of his cock brushes against the back of your throat, your lips meeting your fist.

Aaron curses quietly, his breathing turning ragged as he tries to keep his hips still so he doesn’t make you gag, letting you take your time despite his own judgements.

You know he was expecting your usual teasing—kitten licks at the head to savor his precum or the flat of your tongue tracing the vein along the underside of his cock. But it must have been over 15 minutes already and, as much as you want to leisurely lick and suck him until you were dripping wet again and your jaw got sore, you’re running out of time.

You unfurl your fist around the base of his cock to place on the bare skin of his thigh and begin to bob your head, rivulets of your drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth and coating him.

He seems to understand because he’s sneaking a hand underneath the blanket to cradle the back of your head, keeping you steady, before he’s lifting his hips up to start fucking into your mouth.

Something simmers at the base of your skull, your eyes fluttering shut, as you let him take control in that seamless way he always does. Submitting to him was always exhilarating, making you feel drunk and like you were a second away from floating out of your body with just one look, one large hand wrapped around your throat.

It happens now as you concentrate on making sure you didn’t gag, trying to open your jaw further so he could continue using your mouth whichever way he wants. The sounds of the movie and the audience singing along filters through your brain and out your ears, the only thing you’re aware of being your harsh breaths and the filthy crude noises of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat.

Aaron grunts, barely audible over the movie, and his hips begin to stutter, his fist clenching and unclenching where he still has a grip on the back of your neck. You swallow around him as best as you could, mentally preparing yourself for the first spurt of his come hitting the back of your throat and wondering if you could get away from sitting on his lap and angling his cock inside of your aching pussy for a little bit.

You don’t hear the sound of the car door opening until Aaron’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, essentially stilling you with your lips still wrapped around his cock.

“Shit, can you believe I got to the front of the line and I forgot my wallet?”

Aaron hums in response, though it sounds strained to you. His muscled thighs are tense, as if anticipating this was the moment that your father would discover his daughter was sleeping around with his best friend by his cock in your mouth.

Your ears burn as you slowly lift yourself off of him, making sure you swallow to refrain from any lewd noises from your mouth. You and Aaron seem to have the same idea as you stay hunched over his lap, hiding out of your dad’s eyeline, the thick blanket covering you.

There are sounds of him rummaging around the seats, even checking the middle console, and then he’s making a triumphant noise and closing the console shut. You’re not exactly sure why his wallet was in the console of Aaron’s car, but there were evidently more important matters as you watched his cock, right in front of your face, soften with each passing second.

“Where’d that girl get to now?”

Aaron clears his throat and you have to bite your lip to hide your smile when his cock twitches. “She had to go to the restroom.”

A sigh. “Well, I better go back and get in line. You sure you don’t want anything, Hotch?”

There’s a tinge of frustration when he speaks again “I’m good, thanks.”

You could almost imagine the noncommittal shrug your dad gives before you hear the slam of the car door being shut and his whistling along to the song on the screen that gradually fades away.

Aaron’s hand finally leaves your neck, silently telling you that the coast was clear. You’re not sure if you’re wanting it back or not, but one glance at his cock, nearly completely soft, has you holding back a sigh.

When you finally sit up, you’re sure you look like a mess. The neckline of your dress was probably pulled down a little too low still, your hair frizzy and tangled from his hands, and your lips swollen and puffy.

However, when Aaron glances at you with a soft expression, the start of a smile tugging at his lips and his thumb coming to swipe at the corner of your mouth, you felt like the prettiest woman in the city.

“I guess we’re done for tonight, huh?” you ask, attempting to pass it off as a joke but your voice sounds weak even to you.

“I’m okay with that,” he says, voice gentle and not like he was trying to hold back his moans merely two minutes ago. He tucks himself back into his jeans and you have to lift the edge of the blanket up to make sure that he had gone fully soft. When he’s done, he studies you, an unreadable glint in his eyes that causes your heart to flip in your chest.

Before you could say something idiotic, something that would disrupt the easygoing nature of your undefined relationship, he raises his arm to rest on the back of the seat. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the slight flex of his bicep and the shine of his fancy watch against his wrist, shamelessly admiring the way it glints underneath the light.

When you tear your gaze away from the sudden filthy thoughts revolving that specific watch, he’s raising an eyebrow at you, and then, “Come here.”

A giddy smile erupts on your face before you could help it. You try to suppress a squeal as you shuffle closer into Aaron’s embrace, letting the warmth of him bleed through his shirt as you press your cheek into his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his middle to intertwine your fingers with your arm that you have curled around his back.

He’s so soft, with his belly rising and falling with each breath and the way he brings his arm down from the back of the seat to rest around your shoulders, pulling you further into him. You’re not sure if the sense of calmness that overcomes you was from the comforting scent of his cologne or the orgasm his fingers just brought you to.

A girly type of excitement fills your chest at the fact that you were cuddling him so publicly, such a rare event that has only happened when he’s come to visit you when out on a case. You know he can see your smile out of the corner of his eye, the way you try to wiggle further into him as if you’re trying to crawl into his skin, but he stays silent.

The two of you sit in silence and, surprisingly, watch the movie, with you singing along and Aaron shaking his head at you. You know he’s mouthing along to the lyrics, you just can’t quite prove it.

You hear the distinct off-tune whistling from your dad and scramble to put a respectable distance between you and Aaron.

His hand shoots out to grab at your wrist and you ignore the way arousal licks up your spine at the way his fingers easily dwarf yours and how unbearably attractive he is when he leans in to whisper into your ear.

“Maybe you can come over tonight after the movie to finish what you started.”

You bite back a smile, noticing how it wasn’t exactly a question, but rather a concise demand. You also knew that Aaron can be impatient, especially after he didn’t get a chance to finish in your mouth like he wanted to, and that you were most definitely going to pay for it later.

“Yes, sir.”

taglist <3: @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover @maeintree @pastelpinkflowerlife @storiesofsvu @actualdeemon @khxna @ssa-writerminds

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jqmalikhsgib · 1 day ago

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can someone PLEASEE write a biting fanfic abt my main man aaron hotchner I need to bite his bicep like an apple

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jqmalikhsgib · 2 days ago

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aaron likes to have his way with you before he leaves for work

drabble

+18 MDNI

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader content/tw: r has trouble sleeping (just me being self-indulgent once again), SMUT, morning sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, established relationship, mentions of oral sex, lmk if i missed any! a/n: god forbid a girl wants some morning endorphin! enjoy this little thing while i work on a dbf!hotch fic inspired by aaron warner (hell yeah) <3 reqs open, thank you again for 500 followers i love you all 💗🪽

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You spent your whole life thinking that not having a good sleep schedule wasn’t good for your health.

Being a light sleeper, not getting enough time to rest, waking up earlier than you should… All of that was normal to you. Not a flaw or a lack of skill, but just part of who you are. It usually doesn’t affect your routine, you were so used to it that having less hours asleep than most people didn’t make you less prepared for the day.

Of course, you did find yourself wishing you had it in you. The ability to fall asleep easily. It would be a very welcome trick on those lonely nights you spent at your place while your husband travelled to god knows where to catch psychopaths all around the country. You tried medicines, routines, different rituals and methods. Although some of them helped, nothing really seemed to completely handle the issue.

Nonetheless, you soon found out that your trouble sleeping could come in quite handy. Especially when said husband got back home in the middle of the night, so anxious to get back to you that he couldn’t wait for the flight in the morning. You hear the sounds from downstairs, and by the time he reached the bedroom door you were awake, slowly sitting up with your eyes half opened to find him staring at you with that smile and that gaze of relief that melts you everytime. While you wait for him to shower you quickly prepare him a cup of tea, getting ready to lay on his lap while he drinks the warm drink and wind down from the past days.

But truthfully, the best part was the mornings.

Aaron is a morning person. That was very much clear from the first look you took at him. And with the FBI and his healthy habits, his alarm always sets up at 6 a.m. sharp, almost every day. No snoozes, no safe alarms. One ring and he was up. Three of four if he’s had a specially rough night. It took you a few days sleeping with him for your body to get used to that routine and start to wake up at the same time as him.

After that, it took you another week for your body to wake up before the alarm went off. A few minutes in, the peaceful sounds of his breath against your neck, his arms weighing down on your waist and pulling you flush against his broad chest, sensing you too were awake and making sure you weren’t going to move away until you absolutely had to. More usually than not – especially with him being away as much as he was – the warmth of his body makes its way down to the middle of your thighs, and you have to convince yourself that he’s just casually breathing into your ear and it’s not a form of foreplay.

Your strength doesn’t last, though, and you find yourself all hot and bothered, wiggling your hips slightly until your ass is pressed directly into his crotch, and you feel him getting hard by the touch alone. It takes him little to no time to realize your intentions, and soon he’s gripping your hips and rocking into you from above your clothes, humming against your shoulders and lazily kissing your neck.

He bites the shell of your ear, chuckles as you try to press into him harder to get some – anything, please – relief, massaging your breasts and pinching your nipples, grazing your bare thighs with his fingertips in a tough so light you have to look down to see if it’s actually there. And when you’re surrendering, begging, whining, ready to shove your panties down and take matters with your own hands, Hotch clasps your hand to your front, pinning them down with one hand and pulling himself out of his pajamas with the other, using the tip of his cock to tease your ass cheeks, murmuring praises on your ear before pulling your panties and shorts to the side with one swift motion and burying himself into you with one deep thrust.

You pant together for a second, delishing in the feeling of him stretching you this early in the morning, sometimes even before the sunrise.

“We’ll have to be quick, okay, honey?” he asks, his voice hoarse practically melting into your neck, to which you just agree between moans, fucking him back sleeply but eagerly. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise, and when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing and pressing into it like it’s his job it’s all, that’s all it takes for you to collapse, orgasm so strong it could put you back to sleep in a second. He’s not far behind, the way your body is trembling and your pussy clenching around him makes him follow suit behind you, and his movements become sloppy as he rides out his orgasm, filling you up with his seed.

Usually you have about thirty seconds to breathe before the alarm goes off, and he groans as he leans away to turn it off. He turns back to see you stretching or yawning, and he turns your body to him, chuckling as you smirk at him, pulling him into one last embrace before he gets up.

“I love you, Aaron.” you whisper.

“Yeah, I could tell.” he jokes, and you playfully smack his shoulder, making him laugh and leave a lovingly peck on your lips “I love you too, sweetheart.” And then, he gets up to get dressed and you sit pretty and behave until he leaves, not a minute after schedule – at least that’s what he tells you to do, right before one of you gets on your knees right under the bathroom sink and gives the other a second round.

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jqmalikhsgib · 3 days ago

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Hawaii Baby

Older!Eddie Munson x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: A month ago I went to Hawaii to visit family and I couldn't stop thinking about older!Eddie taking you to Hawaii. Could be read as part of this universe, or as a stand alone blurb.

Warnings: they're horny for each other, mentions of wanting kids and baby making sex, drinking alcohol on the beach

Thinking about...

Just lounging on the beach, watching the sunset. Him loving all the bathing suits you packed. Him setting up a romantic candle lit dinner on the beach, listening to the waves and watching the pink sky reflect off the blue water.

You’d lay out on a beach chair, reading a book, and he’d be your designated cabana boy.

You hold up the empty glass, garnished with a colorful little umbrella and some gnawed-on pineapple. “Baby, I’m empty.” You’re not even looking up from your book, big sunglasses on, deflecting the bright sun.

“Comin’ right up, sweetheart.” He kisses your head before taking the glass, heading to the bar.

When he’s walking back, you turn your head to catch the way his pretty tattoos look against his pale skin. Admiring his lean torso, the happy trail leading to your favorite part of him.

“Oh, cabana boy,” you singsong, peeking above the rim of your sunglasses. “Are you single?”

He laughs, handing you the chilled drink. “No, I got a sexy little wife at home.”

“Booo,” you tease, knowing he’s talking about you. “She sounds like a drag.”

He smirks, hungrily eyeing your glistening body, “Well, she’s actually the best woman I know. Gonna give me a baby an’ everything.”

Laughing at the way he manages to sneak that hope into almost every conversation you have. “You wish.”

“Oh, I don’t wish, sweetheart. I’m plannin’ on it. I hope you know you’re getting filled tonight. Wanna make a baby in Hawaii, baby.”

You scoff at his shamelessness, “Eddie! Control yourself, we’re in public!”

“For you? Never.”

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jqmalikhsgib · 3 days ago

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(Baby) Daddy

Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader

A/N: Only one person asked for this, and that was enough. Sorry for this. @maedesculpaeusoubi this is for you. Very quickly written, sorry if it’s wonky. Also, my dad wouldn’t stop yapping to me while I was trying to proofread, so that wasn’t helpful either.

Summary: Eddie's a good husband and a good father, he just wishes you'd stop calling him 'daddy.'

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ mdni!!! pregnancy kink, breeding kink, daddy kink (but in the ‘I’m actually the sexy father of your child’ way), kinda mommy kink (same way), snotty crying child, smut, PiV unprotected sex, baby making sex, cream pie, mocking, Eddie’s the best husband literally ever, frustrated parents (in both sense of the word), Steve catching a stray lmao, Eddie has blue balls, dirty talk

Asks are open, come talk to me about Eddie or I'll cry. That's a threat btw.

Masterlist

It was hard having a clingy three-year-old. You loved Oz so much, but you and Eddie could not get a moment alone for the life of you. Anytime Eddie tried to get a little frisky in the mornings—rolling on top of you, pressing his hard on into your thigh—the moment was dashed by the angelic voice of your dear son accompanied by uncoordinated knocking, “Mommy, Daddy, I come in now?”

That was why Robin was holding your teary-eyed son, desperately bopping him on her hip as he squirmed in her hold, leaning forward with sticky grabby hands, reaching for you. Eddie is putting together the overnight bag, counting to make sure Robin and Vickie will have enough pull-ups for Oz in case the worst occurs.

“I know, honey, I know,” you attempt to soothe from afar, lord knows if you hold that child—he’s getting a good grip and not letting go until judgement day. “But you’re gonna have so much fun with Auntie Robin and Auntie Vickie,” you try, but it only makes the little boy cry harder, violently throwing a fit.

You give Robin an apologetic look, “He’ll calm down once he knows we’re not near him, I swear.”

“Ah, it’s okay. This is basically Steve during a code blue,” she quips, trying her hardest not to drop your fretful child.

“Code blue?”

“Yeah, when he hasn’t been with a girl in a while,” she smirks, always glad to get a punch in at Steve—especially when he’s not there to defend himself.

Nodding your head in understanding, you’re about to speak when Eddie sidles up next to you, shoving the bag into Robin’s scrambling hands.

“Funny, I think I’m goin’ through the same thing right now,” he deadpans, a monotonous tone overtaking his usually bright personality.

Hitting his shoulder, you pluck a Kleenex off the side table and start wiping Oz’s snot, instructing the boy to “blow.” The distraction calms him down for the first time in an hour, ever the mama’s boy—relishing in your attention, even if it’s just to blow his nose.

“Mommy and daddy need to catch up on a few chores, okay? Then we’ll be over first thing tomorrow to pick you up!” You’re putting your best foot forward as you try to convince your son he’ll be fine for the night, resorting to a tone resembling fake customer service enthusiasm.

“Yeah, buddy, you get mommy time, all the time. Daddy wants some mommy time, too.” Eddie tries reasoning with the hyperventilating three-year-old, but the mention of daddy and mommy time minus Oz has the boy wailing again.

You’re so tired and overstimulated that you’re frustrated at Eddie’s attempt to calm the boy down. Why did he think that would work? Turning away from your son, glaring at your husband, you bite out an order, “Okay, you need to go take a lap.”

Eddie’s a good enough husband to know when to pick his battles. He thinks Robin should just take Oz without you consoling the boy—that’s only bound to make him cry more. But he doesn’t tell you how he thinks you should parent, only nodding with his lips pressed together firmly, heading to the kitchen to put away some dishes.

Eventually, you give up and let Robin take the screaming child. Once the house is quiet, you sit down on the couch with your head in your hands, just breathing through the frustration. Eddie can hear the deep breaths you take all the way from the kitchen. Instead of going to you, he continues cleaning the area up, wiping down counters and organizing the fridge.

Once he’s done with the space, he walks into the living room to find you asleep on the couch. He admires the way his old band tee hangs off your shoulder, the way your lounge shorts are scrunched up to the top of your thighs. The view has him sighing wistfully. He wants you so badly, but he wants you to sleep more. So he heads to your shared bedroom, readying to do the laundry.

You wake up when the sun has gone down, disoriented and disheveled. Looking around for any indication of what time it is, you’re distracted by how clean the house looks. Yawning as you get up, you head to the kitchen for a glass of water. Stopping in your tracks, your jaw drops at the cleanliness of the space—it hasn’t been this spotless since you two moved in.

Heading to the bedroom, passing the now empty laundry basket, you find Eddie setting up a bath in the master bathroom, the lights off and lit candles surrounding the tub.

“What did you do?” You never meant to take a nap and skip out on chores, your brows are furrowed in adoring awe at all his hard work.

“Just cleaned some stuff up,” he shrugs, sitting on the edge of the tub, feeling the water’s temperature. “I was actually about to come wake you up, this bath is for you. I went out while you were asleep and got more of the lavender scented bubbles you like,” he gestures to the piles of bubbles floating in the bath.

Your heart swoons so hard, all you can do is let out a strangled coo from your throat. Lips pouty at the dedication of your equally tired husband. “Will you come in with me?”

“No can do’s-ville, babydoll,” he sasses, “if I’m in the bath, who’s gonna feed you chocolate covered strawberries?”

Jaw dropping, you shake your head at him, “Okay, did I forget an anniversary or something? What is all of this for?”

He stands up, taking the liberty of undressing you. You laugh at his bold move, lifting your arms for him to take the shirt off, followed by your bottoms. “The ‘anniversary’ is me celebrating my beautiful wife, it’s an everyday thing,” he shrugs, smug at the effect his charm has on you.

He helps you into the tub before running to grab the chilled dessert, sitting on the edge, again, feeding you. “I gotta say, I do have a thing for moms, so I think I’m a little biased when I say you’re the most gorgeous woman to ever exist. It’s also a plus that you’re the best mommy to Ozzy,” he finishes, shrugging like it’s an afterthought. You’re his lovely wife, first, and the best mother of his child, second.

Snorting at his heavy flirting, you shake your head as you swipe some juice from the corner of your mouth, sucking the sweetness off your finger, eyeing him fondly. “Well, you’re also the best daddy ever,” you compliment, a teasing smile lighting up the room.

He doesn’t break the eye contact you grant him, only staring at you with his head tilted, perfectly still as he breathes in slowly, chest puffing with depth. Suddenly he straightens up, looking down at the bubbles covering your naked body as he breathes out through his nose.

Having watched his whole reaction, you’re baffled. You can’t help but laugh at whatever that was. “What?” You feel like you’re missing something, left out of the gag.

He shakes his head dismissively, voice up an octave as he implores, “Take your bath.”

Scoffing at his order, you laugh at the weird behavior he’s struggling to cover up. “What,” you’re starting to sound whiny, like a secret is being dangled in front of you and no one will let you in on it. “What is it?”

“Take your bath,” orders again, head bobbing on each word for emphasis. “Enjoy it.” You laugh at the way it sounds like a threat, rolling your eyes at his confusing antics.

You finish your bath, making lazy conversation with Eddie about his work at the garage. Once you’re out, he leaves you to get dressed as he rifles through the menus of different take out places in the kitchen. The landline on your bedside table starts ringing as you’re applying the cherry blossom scented lotion you love. Knowing it’s Robin with Oz, you head over to pick it up, ready to say goodnight.

After chatting with Robin and listening to Oz babble about toys he’s played with at their house, you try to wrap the conversation up. “Daddy’s not here, hold on, lemme call him in,” you pull the receiver away, covering it as you call out to Eddie.

“Daddy, come say goodnight to Ozzy!”

Eddie’s refilling one of the containers that holds Oz’s cereal as he hears your voice, the take out menu on the counter waiting for your approval. The endearment makes him huff out a breath, he’s quickly reaching his limit with you and that name.

He takes multiple deep breaths as he walks to the bedroom. All the breathing exercises go down the drain when he spots you in a babydoll nightgown. He’s eyeing the way your breasts sit—complemented by the lace trim holding them—as he takes the phone from you.

“Hey, buddy! Oh yeah? That’s cool, dude! I’m gonna say goodnight now, okay?” He studies your hands as you continue spreading lotion underneath the flimsy fabric covering your chest. “Mommy and I will see you tomorrow, okay? Alr–Alright, goodnight, bud. Love you!”

He hangs up, letting out a deep breath through his nose, just like he did in the bathroom. He turns around to watch as you finish rubbing any excess lotion into your hands. He feels like he’s hunting you, observing your every move.

“So what did you want to–”

Your question is cut off by the slam of his lips against yours, a shocked noise leaving your throat. His hands hold your face as he slips his tongue into your mouth, relishing the taste of sweet chocolate and juicy strawberries.

Pulling away, panting, holding you close, he mutters, ‘You’re so pretty, baby. Why do you have to keep calling me that?”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, shocked at what’s gotten into him, you ask, “Calling you what? What are you talking about?” Your brain feels foggy from the kiss, you haven’t felt his uninterrupted touch in so long, it has you feeling like a virgin all over again.

He chuckles at you, shaking his head as he traps his lip between his teeth, “You’re so naughty, mommy. Pretending like you can’t see what it does to me…”

Gasping at the feel of his erection pressing against you, you struggle to breathe out a response. “Eddie, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about–”

Pulling you in for another quick, mind-numbing kiss, he mocks your voice. “You’re the best, daddy. Daddy, c’mere. You wan’ another baby, mama? ‘Cos that’s what you’re gonna get if you keep calling me that,” he threatens.

“Eddie–”

“Unh unh,” he warns, “Don’t try and be good now, I know what you want.” His large hands trail down your neck, groping your tits as he travels down to lift the hem of your dress. “You got all pretty for me an’ everything,” he admires, looking at your body like he’s barely containing his hunger. “I’m gonna give you another baby, honey, would you like that?”

Chest moving with desperate breaths, you nod vigorously, “Yes, daddy. I wan’ another baby, please!”

He hums as he pulls the nightgown fully off, wrapping an arm around your waist and yanking you to him, he trails his free hand back up your body to grab ahold of your jaw, drawing another needy kiss from your lips. “Well then, we better get to work.”

In a flash, he’s ripping off his clothes, throwing you on the bed, crawling over your body. His eyes rove over your soft figure, groaning at the scent of you. “Mmm, fuck, honey. You smell so damn good,” he grits.

“Daddy, please–I need you,” you moan, grabby hands trying to pull him closer, desperate to feel the weight of his thick cock inside you. You’re so wet you might as well be dripping at this point.

“Yeah?” It’s so condescending the way he questions you, every time he mocks you, your pussy clenches around nothing.

Whimpering pitifully, you nod, “Yeah, daddy, pleaseee!”

He grabs his hard cock, guiding the leaking head through your wet folds, spreading your arousal. Biting his lip in need at the desperate sounds you make, he notches the tip into your entrance. Drawing his eyes from your greedy, rolling hips, to your fucked out face, “You wan’ me to make you a mommy again? Wan’ me to fuck a baby into you, sweetheart? Watch you get all big and whiny, full of daddy’s cum?”

He’s driving you insane, it’s been so long you feel so close to cumming just from his words alone. “Yes! Please, daddy! Wanna have your baby again,” you whine, still trying to catch his cock and inch it in with needy hips.

After your final plea, he thrusts into the hilt, listening to your pleasured scream, viciously grinning. “Okay, honey, I’ll give you another baby.”

Setting a bruising pace, he continuously knocks the air from your lungs as his girthy cock fucks in and out of you. You’re babbling incoherently, so close to the edge, so sensitive.

Eddie’s not much better, the feel of your tight walls choking his cock have him fighting to prolong the intimacy, but he’s quickly losing the battle. “Fuck, sweetheart, y’gotta stop squeezin’ me so hard, I’m gonna fuckin’ bust.”

At the mention of being filled with his cum, you go rabid, nails sinking into his shoulders, head thrown back with unashamed moans echoing around the room. “Please! Please, wan’ your cum, gimme your cum, hmm.”

His hips stutter at the absurd levels of desperation you’re displaying, “Oh fuck, baby, you can’t say shit like that.”

Undeterred by his half-hearted reprimand, you continue pleading, “Please, daddy, I’ll be good! Wan’ another baby so fuckin’ bad, want you to knock me up. Wanna carry your baby again!”

“Shit, shit–fuck,” Eddie groans, your words tossing him over the edge. He fucks the ropes of cum into your greedy hole, reaching for your clit, circling it until you’re screaming and pulsing around him. “Yeah, take it, baby. Hold my cum for me, mommy, make a nice little home for it,” he babbles, trying to work you through your orgasm.

Rolling over with you on top of him, he catches his breath as you melt into a puddle on his chest, relishing in the fullness you still feel. “Gotta keep you plugged up if we wan’ it to take.”

Practically purring at his words,your walls flutter around his throbbing cock.

“You really are a good mommy, sweetheart.” He rubs your back as he bathes in your cherry scent.

“And you’re a good daddy,” you mumble tiredly into his tattooed chest, the endearment still causing him to groan, warning you to pick another name.

That was the best sleep you two have had in months, never feeling closer to the man you married, the best father to your son.

A/N: like, comment, and reblog to give me a smooch. Comments make me wanna write more so if for some reason you want that, you should comment.

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jqmalikhsgib · 3 days ago

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you must be a dream - eddie munson part 1

virgin!perv!Eddie Munson x popular!cheerleader!Carver!fem!reader

some fwb!king!Steve Harrington x reader

Masterlist Tag Lists

Summary:

Eddie can’t help being obsessed with you, even though he knows you’re unattainable. The single most popular girl in school - and the hottest he’s ever seen. Maybe he takes his infatuation a little too far, but who can blame him when you look like that? Besides - sometimes dreams do come true.

Part 2 next week

Warnings:

Smut (18+), like a lot of smut, masturbation, unprotected p in v, creampie, voyeurism, public sex, mild dubcon (drunk sex), perv behavior, panty stealing/sniffing, looking up skirts, toxic relationship (with steve), virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, sub!eddie, experienced!reader, king!steve is an asshole

Word Count: 14.1k

A/N:

This is an Eddie romance but there is a lot of smut with Steve in this part - just so you’re prepared! When I say perv!Eddie, I mean it. Big thanks to @punkrockmlchael for my banner, beta reading, and helping me with Corroded Coffin dialogue, and to @writhingg for always being an amazing beta reader!!

Eddie’s hand slid up and down his slick cock, sufficiently lubed up with a mixture of precum and his own saliva. His stomach muscles tightened with every stroke, his head thrown back and eyes closed as he pictured you.

“Fuck,” he breathed out quickly, thumb swiping over his slit, making him moan pathetically.

He opened his eyes. He looked over to the yearbook he held in his left hand, propped open to the only page he ever looked at - your cheerleading portrait. Your beautiful face, your tits in that tight top, your legs in that tiny little skirt. God, how badly he wanted to bend you over, lift that skirt up-

His hips bucked up into his fist involuntarily, a whimper of your name escaping his lips. He had been holding off his orgasm for a while, bringing himself down every time he was on the edge before taking himself back there. Now he didn’t know if he could hold off- he was going to cum, hard.

“You like that?” he whispered to your picture, eyes locked on you. “Y’like when I fuck you like this? Taking this thick cock in your little pussy?” A shaky groan clawed its way out of his throat, his eyes fluttering closed before he snapped them open to look at you again.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he whined. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard. Gonna give it to you, give you everything.”

His eyes traveled up your body in your yearbook photo, lingering on your tits before finally locking in on your face.

“Shit.” He moaned your name in a shaky breath, imagining you were here with those pretty pink lips wrapped around his shaft - or maybe balls deep in your pussy, watching your perfect ass bounce and listening to you make the most delicious noises as he fucked you hard from behind.

“You want me to cum?” he whined to your picture. “Wanna see how hard you make me cum, baby?”

He moved his hand faster, fucking his fist. The wet noise of his hand on his cock filled the room, along with Eddie’s keening moans and shaky breaths. He was so so close, just a little longer-

His favorite image of you flashed in his mind. You, in your cheer uniform, no panties, legs spread wide on his bed. Perfect pussy on display all for him. And Eddie, worshipping your body the way you deserved.

With one last whimper of your name, Eddie flicked his wrist one, two, three more times before he let out a choked moan, his cum splattering all over his fist and stomach. He worked himself through it, cumming more than he had last time he did this - he had edged himself for so long this time and it paid off - stroking his cock until his body jolted with the aftershocks and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He laid there, chest heaving as he attempted to calm his racing heart. He finally removed his hand from his softening cock, reaching for an old t-shirt on the floor to clean himself up. He wiped the cum off his hand and the rest of his body. Fuck, there was…a lot.

He imagined fucking it all inside of you instead, seeing it leaking out when he pulled out of you.

His cock gave a weak twitch.

He tucked himself back away in his boxers and pajama pants. The yearbook still lay open on the bed next to him. He glanced over, seeing your smiling face staring back at him. He closed the book.

Then, like clockwork, the post-nut clarity kicked in and the shame crept through his veins. He covered his face with his hands, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.

Not only was he a total fucking creep - god, the way you, Carol, and Tina would laugh at him if you knew. And not only did you exist in a whole different world - you were astronomically popular - you were also completely unattainable.

And Jason’s twin sister.

Jason Carver, who hated Eddie and tormented him every chance he got. The blonde basketball team captain, King of Hawkins - well, next to Steve, at least. He’d always been popular, but ask anyone - the King title was always Steve’s first.

Not that Eddie gave a fuck about any of that high school hierarchy bullshit anyway.

This was a routine for Eddie. Watch you at school all day, get to interact with you if he’s lucky. Come home, daydream about you, get so hard he can’t stand it. Pull out your picture and jerk off while thinking about you, cum so hard he can’t think - then the guilt, the remorse.

And, fuck, he’d have to face you tomorrow. You, Carol, and Tina always bought from him every other Friday. He’d have to look you in the eyes, knowing what he just did.

Well, it wasn’t the first time.

Eddie had been obsessed with you since the beginning of time. He had been the grade above you until this year, but of course he knew you - everyone knew you. You were easily the single most popular girl at Hawkins and always had been.

You weren’t so bad. A little stuck up, maybe. Not like Jason, not a bully. You smiled and laughed when he flirted with you or bowed to you in the cafeteria. But you definitely thought he was a freak just like everyone else, and Eddie knew there was no reality where he had a chance with you.

So he did this.

Eddie got up from the bed, tossing the yearbook into the drawer, to be forgotten - or just pretend it doesn’t exist - until next time. Fuck. God, he really was a creep, wasn’t he?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered to his guitar, his sweetheart, hanging on the wall - he always felt like the beloved instrument was a sentient thing, now silently judging him.

He walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, feeling like he needed a shower to wash away the dirty feeling clinging to his skin. He turned the water on, finding the perfect temperature before shedding his clothes and stepping in.

The water did help, soothing not only his body but his mind. That is, until the image of you in there with him flashed into his brain, wet, gripping his cock before bending over for him-

Fuck.

“Oh, fuck, Steve!”

“Yeah,” Steve panted in your ear, fucking you hard and fast from behind. You were pressed against the wall of the locker room, cheer top rucked up to expose your tits, hard nipples pressed against the cold wall. Steve was pressed against your back, fucking into you frantically. “Fuck, take it. God, you’re such a fucking slut.”

You whimpered - you always liked when Steve degraded you a little. He wrapped his large hand around your neck, pulling your back flush against him as the room was filled with the sound of his hips slamming into yours, his balls slapping against your ass. He squeezed, cutting off your airflow. Your eyes rolled back.

“Can’t believe you let me do this,” he grunted into your ear, a smirk on his lips. He squeezed your neck harder. Fuck, he was gonna leave bruises again. You’d have to explain that to Jason and your parents.

His other hand left your hip and wound around your body, pressing two fingers against your clit, making your knees go weak. Steve was holding you up as he fucked you and started rubbing circles on your throbbing clit.

“Make a fucking mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Let me feel how hard you can cum for me. Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me- shit, I’m not gonna last much longer-“

You were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen. But then your orgasm hit, your vision going white as you came around him, his cock hitting that bundle of nerves and prolonging it until you were so far gone you had no idea what was happening anymore.

Steve let go of your neck and you fell forward, landing on your hands against the wall. He grabbed

onto your hips, slamming you back on his cock as he teetered right on the edge. Finally, he drew in a gasp, groaning loud as he snapped his cock in one more time and came inside you, thrusting shallowly.

He rode out his high deep in your pussy, groaning like he didn’t give a fuck if anyone heard. He kept a bruising grip on your hips until he was completely done - then he let you go, letting you fall forward against the locker room wall.

You spun around, shoving him hard in the chest. “Motherfucker, you weren’t supposed to finish inside!”

“Relax, I’ve got Plan B money.” He slapped your ass, grinning like an asshole. “Besides, you know I always cum inside you.”

You rolled your eyes, fixing your uniform and hair. You looked in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged - you looked back at Steve, seeing the traces of it on his neck and shirt. You weren’t gonna tell him.

You pulled your lipstick tube out of your bag and fixed your makeup while Steve pulled his jeans up and tucked his dick away. He looked at you again. “You coming to my party tonight?”

“Um, yeah,” you said - as if you ever missed a party. “We’re picking up the weed after school, don’t worry about it.”

“Cool,” he smirked. His eyes dropped down to your ass again before going back to your face. “You’re gonna make Munson cream his pants. You know how he feels about the uniform.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you knew Steve was right. There was a reason they sent you to pick up from Eddie every time.

“I feel bad,” you said. You put the top back on your lipstick, smacking your lips together. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Munson?” Steve snorted. “Dude’s a-“

“A freak, yeah I know.”

“Well, don’t feel bad for him,” Steve said. He fixed his hair in the mirror, somehow without noticing the kiss prints and hickies on his neck. “We get a discount, he gets to talk to you and look up your skirt a little. It’s a win-win situation.”

You frowned. You weren’t so sure you felt good about it, but you didn’t push it. You knew the friend group relied on you for this - it’s not like any of you were hurting for money, but still.

“You’re just using what you were blessed with, baby,” he winked. “It’s not like you have to fuck him.”

The idea of that was so outlandish it nearly made you laugh. “Yeah. No.”

“Just make sure you lay it on thick. Let him think he’s got a shot,” Steve snorted. His hand slid up your skirt, grabbing your ass tightly in his hand. “Everyone knows all this belongs to me, anyway.”

“Steve, we are not together,” you reminded him.

“So?” He kissed your neck, a light hand shaped bruise starting to bloom there. “Still mine.”

It wasn’t, but you let him believe what he wanted. Steve finally stepped away from you, picking up his backpack from the floor against the wall. “I’m gonna sneak out before anyone notices we were in here together. I’ll see you.”

“See ya.”

You continued fussing with your hair for a few minutes after you heard the locker room door slam shut, giving Steve the chance to get far. When you felt like the coast was clear, you grabbed your own bag and slipped out.

“What were you doing in the men’s locker room?”

You froze, resisting the urge to let out a deep sigh. You turned around to see your twin brother looking at you, duffel bag over his shoulder as he was about to enter the room you’d just left.

“Nothing,” you said. “Steve forgot something and asked me to run and get it.”

Jason didn’t believe you for a second. “Do you always have to be such a slut?” he hissed, so quiet for only you to hear, even though the hallway was deserted.

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You think I believe that?” he scoffed. “I know you. You know Steve talks, right? Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? That everyone knows how my sister puts out?”

You reeled back, jaw dropping. “Jason Michael Carver.”

“Oh, do not full name me-“

“You just called me a slut!” You threw your arms up in the air. “You’re such a saint. I’m sure you and Chrissy have never done anything.”

“If we do, it’s in private,” he spat. “Because Chrissy has respect for herself, unlike you.”

“Whatever.” You pushed past Jason’s shoulder, flipping him off over your shoulder as you walked to class. “Asshole.”

You had English next - with Eddie. You walked into the classroom, the metalhead looking up at you through his frizzy bangs from his seat in the back. He nodded at you and you gave him a (slightly flirtatious) smile before sliding into your seat next to Carol.

“Where were you?” Carol whispered, chewing her bubblegum.

Your cheeks heated. “With Steve.”

She rolled her eyes. “I could have guessed that.” She leaned over the aisle, getting closer to you. “Where?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her. “Men’s locker room.”

Her eyes went wide before she gave you a look. “Girl.”

You shrugged, heat rushing to your cheeks even more. “No one saw us.” As the memory came back to you, you winced. “Well, Jason kind of caught me coming out and put it together.”

Carol stifled her giggle with her hand. “Oh my god. I bet he was pissed.”

You nodded, widening your eyes. “So pissed.” You pulled your notebook out, flipping to a clean page. “Good thing I don’t give a fuck if Jason’s mad.”

“He’s gonna kick Steve’s ass one of these days,” Carol said, turning back to her own book. “If I don’t do it first.”

Your friends weren’t Steve’s biggest fans either. They thought Steve treated you like shit, which, they weren’t really wrong. It was worse when you and Steve actually were together. He hadn’t been a good boyfriend at all. Now, they were just disappointed you kept sleeping with him.

“He just doesn’t want to be embarrassed,” you mumbled. “He doesn’t actually care about me.”

“I think that’s enough to get Steve’s ass beat.”

While you talked to Carol, Eddie stared holes into the back of your head. Well, not just your head, definitely not. How could he not also appreciate your tits? Or your long, smooth legs in your cheer skirt? God, he loved that skirt. He loved game days, and it didn’t have a thing to do with throwing balls into laundry baskets.

Eddie could never pay attention in his classes with you. He was going to end up failing senior year yet again at this rate. It was worth it, he thought, to get to look at you.

At the end of class, he pretended to be busy putting his stuff away until you and Carol stood. Like every day, he timed it just right, so he was leaving the classroom right behind you. Fuck, how did the school let the cheer uniforms have such tiny skirts? He could almost see the edge of your panties when you walked. None of the other girls on the team wore the skirt like you did, though - no one looked as good in it as you.

Eddie hardly even noticed other girls. He didn’t care about anyone else. It was only you, had always only ever been you. Which was stupid, because he might as well have been dreaming about fucking Phoebe Cates or Shauna Grant. God, you were hotter than Phoebe Cates and Shauna Grant.

He hardly even attempted to hide his staring anymore. He followed as far as he could, dreaming of getting a piece of you-

“Earth to Eddie,” Gareth said, shoving Eddie hard in the shoulder. “God, snap out of it, man.”

Eddie jumped, looking at Gareth - he quickly snapped his head back in your direction, but he’d already lost you in the crowd. Great. He turned back to Gareth with a scowl on his face.

“What, man?” he snapped.

“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously be mad I interrupted you staring at Miss Queen of Hawkins’ ass.”

“You know what?” Eddie said, stopping at his locker. “Yeah, I am. I was enjoying the view.”

“Yeah. I know.” Gareth rolled his eyes. “You’d think one day you’d stop chasing that pipe dream.”

“I’m not chasing a dream,” Eddie grumbled. “You think I don’t know perfectly well I have no chance with her? I’m not delusional.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Gareth leaned against the lockers, watching Eddie shove his books in his own disaster of a locker. “Why don’t you try to be interested in someone else? That girl at The Hideout last week was flirting with you, I swear-“

“I just wasn’t interested,” Eddie shrugged. “She wasn’t my type.”

“Yeah, because your type is the fairer Carver twin.” Gareth looked at Eddie, like he had him all figured out. It pissed Eddie off. “You’re going to be a virgin forever at this rate.”

“You’re a virgin, too!” Eddie hissed, trying to not alert the entire Hawkins student body to the embarrassing truth about both of them. “So don’t act like you’ve got shit figured out, or even know the first thing about women.”

“You’re being testy because I interrupted your ass-staring time. Got it, won’t do it again.” Gareth pushed off the lockers. “You cool off, and I’ll see you in the cafeteria.”

Eddie grabbed his metal lunchbox and slammed his locker shut. He pushed his wild curls out of his face as he walked to the cafeteria. Sure enough, you were already in there, sitting at the middle table with your friend group, Hawkins royalty.

He tried his best not to stare while he walked to the Hellfire table. He was the last one there - Mike and Dustin worked on their character sheets, while Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were laughing loudly about something. Eddie took his seat at the head of the table. He flipped his lunchbox open, taking out the sandwich sitting amongst the weed, rolling paper, and cigarettes.

“About time you made it in here,” Jeff said, watching Eddie take a bite of his ham sandwich. Eddie looked irritated, chewing his food and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“He was too busy staring at you-know-who,” Gareth snorted.

“Big surprise,” Grant muttered.

“Who?” Dustin asked. “Who are you talking about?”

Gareth happily got the first syllable of your name out before Eddie cut him off. “Dude, shut the fuck up.”

But he had said enough for the boys to put the pieces together. “Carver?” Mike asked. “Jason’s sister?”

“Oh, dude,” Dustin said.

“Thanks, Gare,” Eddie sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Oh yeah,” Gareth said, ignoring Eddie. “He’s been obsessed with her for as long as I can remember. You should see when they have class together. Oh, and today’s his favorite day, because every other Friday she-“

“Gareth, shut up!” Eddie snapped. “Fuck, come on, man.”

“Well, that’s just a waste of time,” Dustin said, as if he were surprised his DM would be obsessed with you. You weren’t exactly what he’d imagine to be Eddie’s type - although, you were kind of everybody’s type.

“Oh, he knows,” Gareth said. “He’s just that whipped. Totally wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. And she barely even knows who he is.”

“She knows who I am,” Eddie grumbled.

“Only because you sell her and her friends drugs,” Jeff commented.

Eddie didn’t say anything. He wasn’t so sure Jeff was wrong, although he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He knew he didn’t have a chance in hell with you, sure, but you were friendly at least, right?

He was grateful when the conversation eventually moved back to DND. They had a big campaign tonight, but his head just wasn’t in it - he’d be seeing you first and that was all he could think about.

He watched you from across the cafeteria - the way you’d cover your mouth when you laughed at something one of your idiot friends said, the beautiful smile that stayed on your face all the time - the way that asshole Harrington put his arm around you. He was pretty sure you weren’t even together anymore - yes, he kept up with things like that.

Only when it came to you, though.

He tried to avert his eyes. He looked down at the sandwich he was nibbling on, trying to focus on the DND conversation happening around him.

And he counted down the hours until 3:30.

Eddie sat at the picnic table in the clearing of the woods behind the school. His head rested on his hand, the fingers of his other hand tapping against the metal of his lunchbox. He was early - maybe a little too eager.

The sound of giggles from amongst the trees made him snap his head up, watching. His heart beat faster, pounding against the wall of his chest. His stomach was in knots.

The sound of footsteps on the leaves. More giggling, a conversation too low for Eddie to properly hear it. Then, finally - you, Carol, and Tina walked out of the tree line, not even looking in his direction yet. He sat up straighter, adjusted his curls, then decided to stand. He was nervous - he always got flustered.

“Well well, good afternoon, ladies,” Eddie greeted, putting on his usual confident smile and sauntering around the table. “What can I do you for today?”

The three of you looked at him. Carol and Tina scrunched their noses up, looking at him like he was less than human, but he didn’t even notice. He was too busy looking at the way your lips spread into a smile, the way the sun caught your eyes and made them sparkle.

“Hey, Eddie,” you said, and his stomach did flips at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. “Just the usual.”

He bowed his head. “You got it. Anything for the prettiest girl in Hawkins.” He flipped open his lunchbox with a flourish, pulling out the ounce of weed he’d already weighed and bagged in preparation of this meeting.

You giggled, hand fiddling with your gold cross necklace. Eddie’s eyes dropped down with the motion, letting them linger on your tits. You didn’t miss it.

“How’s the band?” you asked, crossing one foot in front of the other.

“Oh, you know, making it big,” Eddie said, dangling the baggie from his hand. “All five of our fans are loving our new stuff.”

You laughed again, walking around to the table. Carol and Tina lingered off to the side while you hopped up - tits bouncing in your top - onto the picnic table, sitting on the edge, legs swinging. Eddie swallowed hard.

“Maybe I’ll have to come see you sometime,” you said. You subtly - intentionally - let your legs fall open a little, allowing Eddie the slightest glimpse of your panties. You had worn your cutest pink set just for him.

Eddie’s heart banged even harder against his chest, first at your words and then as his eyes dropped down. Fuck. He forgot to respond at first, brain short circuiting at the sight - oblivious to Carol and Tina laughing behind him.

“Oh, uh, yeah, definitely,” he said once he’d remembered it was his turn to speak. “I, uh…yeah. At The Hideout, Tuesday nights. You should definitely come.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You tilted your head with a smile - crossing your legs. Show over. Just a tease. “How much do we owe you?”

“20 for the ounce?” he offered, finally meeting your eyes again. “That’s 50% off. You’re robbing me blind, sweetheart.”

“Aw, Eddie,” you cooed, hopping off the table. “You’re so sweet. What would we do without you?”

Eddie was blushing hard, feeling more flustered than he usually did - you usually weren’t this flirty. “I, uh- I don’t- I mean yeah, of course, it’s no problem. Not for you, princess.”

You handed out the 20 dollar bill while Eddie offered up the baggie of weed. Your fingers brushed together - yours were so soft, so smooth, and you smelled like strawberries - and he felt electricity all the way up his arm. He almost jolted away from you, but kept his composure somehow.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you purred, and the sound of you saying his name again had his cock throbbing in his pants. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said, lost in your eyes. You were standing so close he couldn’t think straight. “Any time. Seriously, just, uh…say the word.”

“I will.” Fuck, were you flirting? You handed the weed off to Carol, who stuffed it in her purse. “You should come to a game sometime.”

Eddie couldn’t even think straight. It took him an embarrassingly long time to respond. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I-I love basketball. I love…” he mimed cheerleading, or at least the most basic pom-pom waving kind. “What you do is cool.”

You giggled again. “Cool. I’ll see you there one of these days, right?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Eddie nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Of course.” He stuffed the 20 in his pocket, wondering if he should cancel Hellfire tonight to watch you cheer. He thought Gareth, Jeff, and Grant might actually kill him.

“Good. I’ve got to get ready for the game, but…” You stepped closer to him, like right up against him. He gulped. “Thank you, Eddie. You’re always so sweet.”

You stood on your toes in your perfect white sneakers and kissed him on the cheek.

Eddie was frozen. He didn’t know what to do. He was helpless as he watched the three of you leave, linking arms and giggling to each other. Eddie felt like he’d just run a few miles - his heart was racing, breathing ragged. He collapsed onto the bench of the picnic table.

And tried to think of how to get out of Hellfire tonight.

You pulled your hair up into a high pony, tightening the green and yellow bow. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time - then reached for your makeup bag, applying more concealer over the bruise attempting to show through your foundation.

“Oh my god, is that a handprint?” Chrissy asked, completely scandalized, her eyes wide. “Who did that to you?”

You glanced over at her briefly - Chrissy was a sweet girl, but she was also very naive. “No, it’s nothing. Just, uh…wore my seatbelt too tight.”

The excuse didn’t even make any sense, but Chrissy just looked at you strangely before dropping the subject. You wanted to tell her to relax, tell her that Steve just likes it rough, but you didn’t think that would make her feel much better.

You finished up with your makeup, then stuffed your bag into your locker along with your change of clothes. With one last adjustment of your uniform, you left the locker room with your team, ready to cheer your heart out.

On the other side of the school, Eddie took his throne for Hellfire. The guys sat around the table, already set up for the campaign. The room was filled with excited chatter - the guys were itching to see what Eddie had in store for them, and Eddie was ready to put his friends’ characters through it.

As the game went on, though, Eddie found himself distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you were here in the school with him, doing your little flips and jumps and routines. He could be watching that right now, seeing beneath your skirt every time you did a toe touch.

He even stumbled over his words a few times, dropping character when he thought too hard about that thing you do where you lift your leg high in the air. The guys definitely noticed he was off his game, and he was sure they knew why.

When Hellfire ended, the game was still going on, just nearing the end. While all his friends left the school together, Eddie lingered behind with the excuse of cleaning up the drama room.

It only took him a few minutes to put all his DND stuff away. When he was done, backpack over his shoulder, he left the room - and followed the sound of cheering, as if succumbing to the call of a siren.

He opened the gym door just a little, peeking inside. Hawkins was in the lead, by a lot. He didn’t really care about that. What he cared about was the cheerleading captain, currently being tossed high in the air by your teammates. Your skirt flew up as you flipped in the air, giving him the perfect view of your even more perfect ass, before you landed perfectly in the arms of the other girls.

He loved watching you cheer. There was something so hot about it - he wanted to choose to believe it wasn’t just the skirt or your ass. He was impressed by the skill, the athleticism, impressed with you. He willed you to see him, give him a smile and a cute little wave, but of course you had no idea he was there. When you did another jump, he looked down between your legs - seeing the black panties you wore underneath. His cock started to fill out, and-

Wait.

You had been wearing pink panties before. He remembered because he’d committed it to memory. That means you changed, which means - your clothes were in the locker room.

The idea struck Eddie hard, like a ball of lightning. Then, the shame at even thinking it. But…

He let the gym door fall closed as he turned around and began speed walking down the hallway. His heart was racing - was he really about to do this? This was crossing a line he hadn’t crossed before. He felt a little disgusted at himself, but…also excited. This was thrilling.

He rounded the corner and came face to face with the door to the women’s locker room. He looked around - the hallway was completely deserted. No one would be coming around until the game was over. He had a few minutes.

He pushed the door open and slid inside.

The women’s locker room was much different than the men’s. For one thing, it didn’t smell like sweat and gym socks. The smell was intoxicating, a mix of fruity and floral scents. He could even make out your signature perfume in the sensory overload - and it made his cock twitch.

It wasn’t hard to find your locker. Everyone’s locker had their initials on it for one, but yours was also covered with photos. You with Carol and Tina, you with Heather Holloway, you with the cheer team - you and Steve. The latter made his stomach clench.

He opened the locker, pleased to find it unlocked. Inside, you had all kinds of stuff - clothes, shower stuff, body care, lotions and perfumes and a hairbrush. He looked at it all, feeling a familiar kind of longing. He picked up the shampoo and conditioner bottles, then the lotions, giving them all a smell and committing them to memory. One of the lotions had seen much more use than the others - he smelled that one, and groaned. That was your signature scent.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he shoved the lotion bottle in his backpack.

He looked through your locker some more. There were an absurd amount of notes, folded in perfect little squares and kept in a pencil box. Just notes passed back and forth with your friends, some with Steve - Meet me in the locker room. Come over tonight, my parents aren’t home. Quickie before practice? Eddie resisted the urge to throw those away.

A pink duffel bag sat on the bottom shelf. Eddie took it, unzipping it - score.

Your clothes were inside - with those pretty pink panties right on top. Slowly, tentatively, as if he might talk some sense into himself, he reached for the panties. They were soft, baby pink with a bow in the front and lace around the hem. He held them like he couldn’t believe they were real.

Then he brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Fuck. Eddie couldn’t help it - he moaned, loud. He was painfully hard in his jeans now, and he dropped his free hand, palming himself over the denim.

Somewhere, a door slammed.

He snapped out of it. Panic struck into his chest at the sound, remembering where he was and what he was doing. He quickly shoved the panties into his pocket, closing your bag and putting everything back in the locker.

He walked to the door in quick strides of his long legs. Peeking out the door to make sure no one was around first, he slipped out of the locker room and started nearly running to the exit of the school, headed for his van.

He couldn’t wait to get home.

You rolled up to Steve’s house with Jason and Chrissy. You felt like the third wheel, sitting in the backseat - but it made more sense than having Carol come pick you up when your brother was going anyway.

You had changed out of your uniform after the game, searching your closet for a good 30 minutes before coming up with a large brown sweater and a tiny little black skirt.

Inside the house, the music was pumping so loud the walls were shaking. The large downstairs was packed full of people, talking, drinking, dancing. You left Jason and Chrissy immediately, pushing through to head straight for the kitchen.

You grinned at your best friends, who practically squealed when they saw you even though you’d only been apart for about an hour. Carol, Tina, and Heather pulled you into their orbit - one of them. They scooped you a cup full of spiked punch. You sipped it - fuck, Steve always made his punch way too fucking strong.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” Heather laughed as you made a face, the alcohol burning on the way down.

“Steve’s looking for you, by the way,” Tina said, giving you a smirk. “Said when I see you to tell you to meet him out back.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he was. But for some reason, you could never resist Steve. It’s not even that you loved him, or had particularly strong feelings for him…he just always got what he wanted.

“I think I need to be a little more drunk first.” You downed your first drink - to the shocked expressions of your friends - and immediately poured yourself another.

“Be careful,” Carol whispered against your ear, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. “Don’t get so drunk you let him take advantage of you again.”

Your heart clenched - you knew Carol cared about you. Sometimes you forgot just how Steve treated you, and that others noticed. Even Jason had told you to stop dating Steve - that he was no good for you. But you always had to do the opposite of whatever Jason said - it was like a personal challenge.

You put it off for a while, laughing with your friends as you finished a couple cups of punch. You knew Steve would be mad if you just ignored him, so you finished off your third drink, refilled your cup, then said goodbye to your friends and headed for the backyard.

It wasn’t hard to find Steve. He was always surrounded by a group of adoring people, hanging on to every word he said. Tonight was no different. King Steve held court off to the side of the pool, flashing that charming smile to the girls giggling at every word he said. You rolled your eyes.

As you stomped over, you caught the attention of the group. They parted for you as if out of a deep respect, the guys looking at you wide eyed while the girls gave you dirty looks with whispers of I thought they broke up?. Steve, oblivious - or apathetic - to it all, curled his lips into a pleased grin.

“About time,” he said, holding an arm out for you. You took your place under it. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”

“Never,” you said - an honest answer. You noticed he still had obvious hickies in his neck, but he’d cleaned off the lipstick stains in the shower after the game.

Steve squeezed your shoulder. He leaned over and brushed his lips against your ear. “Wanna go upstairs with me, baby?”

Your skin tingled, like static electricity in your bloodstream. You were a little unsteady on your feet, letting Steve hold you up. “Okay.”

Steve led you upstairs, letting you lean on him as he helped you. You could tell he was a little drunk, too - but you had so much to drink so fast, you were in slightly worse shape.

He opened the door to his bedroom and you let yourself into the familiar space, flopping down on his bed. You were exhausted from the day - school, cheering, now this. You were ready to curl up and go to sleep.

Steve crawled onto the bed next to you. He hand rested on your hip as he leaned down and kissed you, slowly at first, then hungrier. He parted your lips, licking into your mouth. His hips were rutting against you, hard cock rubbing against your bare thigh.

“God, I want you,” he breathed, moving on top of you. He pressed his hips against your core, aching dick throbbing as he let out a shuddering, needy breath.

“Want you too, Stevie,” you mumbled. His familiar body on top of you had you coming alive, soaking your panties.

He sat up and pulled his shirt off quickly, then yours. He urgently worked his belt open, chest heaving as he looked down at you. You traced your hand through his chest hair, feeling the firm muscles of his chest and abdomen. They twitched beneath your touch.

With his jeans and boxers shoved down to his thighs, his hard cock bobbing at his lower stomach, he reached beneath your skirt to pull your panties off.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he leaned forward, mouthing at your tits. “Shit, you’re so hot. So fucking hot, baby.” He rocked his hips forward, cock tracing through your folds. He groaned at the feeling of your wetness, the way it coated his shaft as he thrusted back and forth.

He hooked his arms under your thighs, pushing them up against your chest. He nudged his thick cockhead against your entrance, pushing just barely inside. You whined at the stretch - although you were used to taking Steve’s dick by now.

He fucked his cock in further, adding another inch with every thrust. You arched your back, crying out at the pressure of him stretching you. Steve was actually huge - he’d had plenty of experiences with girls where he couldn’t even get it in - so it could be uncomfortable, but god, once you got used to it? It was incredible.

“Almost in, baby,” he mumbled soothing words against your cheek. “Almost in you, just a little bit more. You can take it, you always do.”

He was right - you always did.

You let out a shuddering breath as Steve pushed the remaining few inches into you with a groan. His fists tightened in the sheets, then he was pulling back and pounding into you.

You whined, pulling on Steve’s hair while he fucked into you. He wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you close to him and hiding his face in your neck while he bucked his hips.

“So, so good, baby,” he praised, voice muffled against your skin. “Making me feel so good, taking this dick like that. God you’re such a slut, you always take it-“

He cut himself off with a loud moan as you tightened around him, shutting him up. As annoying as he could be, his - glorious - cock was fucking you just right, pressing against your bundle of nerves with every balls-deep thrust.

You could feel the coil tightening, your spine prickling with electricity. Oh fuck, you suddenly remembered why you kept sleeping with Steve.

You were so close, so close-

“Fuck- shit, I’m cumming,” Steve cried, and before you could beg him no, no, just a little longer, he was grabbing onto your thigh, squeezing as he grunted with his release, cum coating your velvety walls.

You had to say, you were disappointed but not surprised. Steve only cared if you came about half the time, and it looked like tonight was not one of those lucky nights.

“Are you serious?” you said, pushing his sweaty body off of you. He rolled onto the mattress next to you, running his hands through his slightly wet hair.

“I’m sorry, baby. You just felt so good.” Steve winked and smirked at you, looking like he wasn’t all that sorry at all.

You rolled your eyes, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. You pulled your panties and shirt back on, tossing Steve his shirt. He was pulling his jeans and boxers back up, but seemed in no hurry to replace his shirt and get back to the party.

“You’re a dick,” you mumbled. You felt angry - you felt used. Steve always made you feel used.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” he cooed, but he was still smiling like he found the whole situation funny. “You know how I feel about you. You know you’re my favorite girl.”

You weren’t having it. “Where’s the Plan B money?”

Steve frowned. “My wallet’s on the desk.”

You walked over to the desk sitting against the wall, seeing Steve’s expensive leather wallet laying on top. You flipped it open and plucked out the bills to cover the emergency contraceptive.

“Baby, seriously. Don’t be like this.” Steve was giving minimal effort, but he beckoned you back to the bed, as if you would listen to whatever he asked.

You threw open his bedroom door. A few people in the hallway turned to look, seeing you leaving, disheveled with a shirtless Steve on the bed - and immediately started whispering. You didn’t care right now.

You slammed Steve’s door behind you, pushing past the party goers and going back downstairs. Maybe Jason would take you home, or even Carol. Someone would, and you were going to ask everyone until you got a ride.

All you knew is you couldn’t stand to be at this party for another second.

Eddie had rushed home, speeding even faster than he usually did. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding - he felt like he had a big, incredible secret. The panties sitting in his pocket might as well have weighed 50 pounds. He couldn’t stop thinking about them and what he’d done.

He was relieved to see Wayne gone when he got home. He didn’t want to be interrupted.

He locked up behind himself before heading straight for his room - fuck eating, he couldn’t wait another second. He was already half hard as he pulled his shirt off, then reached for the joint he’d rolled earlier.

Sparking up the joint, he placed the roll between his lips, taking a deep inhale. The smoke traveled down into his lungs, filling his body with a deep contentment.

He laid on the bed with his joint still propped in his mouth. He undid his belt and shoved his jeans and boxers down in record time - he was already so worked up, and the weed was only going to make his orgasm even better.

Eddie pulled out the lotion and your panties - and he paused. Was he really going to do this? This was a level of creep he hadn’t reached yet. He could go back - he could sneak your stuff back in your locker Monday - hell, he could even throw them away and pretend this never happened.

His cock was throbbing, already fully hard as he held the soft panties in his hand. He clenched and unclenched his fist around them, fighting with himself - could he forgive himself for this?

He brought the panties up to his nose and inhaled. His cock twitched, and he couldn’t help it - he wrapped his hand around himself, twisting his hand around his shaft as he breathed in the smell of you.

And fuck, you smelled just as good as he imagined. Better, even. He imagined his face was buried in your pussy, the real thing - fuck, he would do anything. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he made you cum harder than you ever had. It’s only what you deserved.

Eddie rubbed the panties against his aching cock, jolting from the sensation of the rough lace against his sensitive dick. He let out a little huff of smoke - his heart was beating out of his chest - and wrapped the panties around his shaft. Slowly, he stroked his cock with them, breathing shakily.

The joint slipped from his lips and fell on the bed. “Shit,” he cursed, picking it up and dropping it in his ashtray. He was already plenty high, and all he wanted now was to get off to the thought of you.

He reached into his bedside table and pulled out the yearbook. It was a surprise the pages weren’t stuck together at this rate. He flipped straight to the dog eared page, letting out a groan at the sight of you.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered to your picture as he stroked himself faster. “Fuck. Did you wear these just for me today? Did you know how fucking crazy it would drive me?”

When the material of the panties started to get uncomfortable rubbing against his cock - too sensitive - he put the book down and grabbed your bottle of lotion. He closed his eyes as he opened the top and smelled it again - he could almost picture you were right here.

He put some in the palm of his right hand. Then, he wrapped his hand around his cock, moaning as the cool lotion coated his shaft. He could smell the scent so clearly - it made it even easier to think about you.

He picked the yearbook back up with his left hand, jerking himself faster - his hand was moving quickly with the help of the lotion. He let out a shuddering moan - fuck, it felt so good. His dick was rock hard in his hand, almost painfully so. He just got so worked up at school all day having to see you, especially when he got to talk to you, too. He always came home aching.

“Yeah, baby,” he rasped to your picture. The slick sound of his hand on his cock was filling the room - he could almost imagine it was the sound of your wet pussy, taking him deep and fast. “D’you like when I’m this hard for you? You wanna feel me deep inside your little cunt?”

Eddie’s body was shaking with the intensity of his building orgasm. He looked at your ass and legs in the photo and pictured you in your uniform with no panties underneath, bouncing on his cock.

Or maybe he’d bend you in half, let you show him just how flexible you are. He’d spread your legs wide, watching his cock disappearing into that tight cunt. His hips bucked up into his fist.

“Christ, baby,” Eddie groaned. “You’d be so good, I know you would. You’d let me worship you, let me taste your pussy, get my cock inside you - oh fuck - is that what you want, baby? God, you get me so fucking worked up-“

He was squeezing his cock with every upstroke, rubbing his thumb over the slit, tracing the vein on the underside of his shaft. It was your hand he pictured on him - smaller, softer than his own. So fucking soft, so you-

Eddie whimpered your name as if on instinct. He called out for you, throwing his head back with little “Ah ah ah”s as he brought himself higher and higher. He could feel that familiar feeling creeping up his spine, making his muscles clench. He cupped his balls in his hand, massaging them for a moment before going back to his needy cock.

He repeated your name over and over. “That’s it, that’s it. Good girl, so good for me. So fucking beautiful. Take this big cock, sweetheart, let me fuck that pretty pussy - fuck fuck fuck-“

His hand was moving rapidly up and down his cock now, precum leaking from the tip and mixing with your lotion. Your panties were on his chest, close enough that he could see them, bringing them to his nose to smell them. He locked eyes with your photo, imagining you were here begging for his cum, begging him to finish for you.

“You want my cum?” he whispered. “I’ll give it to you, baby. Gonna cum so hard, all for you. ‘m so close, baby, just- fuck- just a little more, almost fuckin’ there-“

His skin was tingling, body trembling, heart pounding. He twisted his hand around his cock faster, and oh god oh god-

Repeating your name like a desperate prayer, his cum shot out onto his stomach and hand, a seemingly endless amount. Fuck, he never used to cum this much before he started jerking off to you - it was like you drained everything out of him. He kept pumping his fist as he groaned, wringing out the last of his orgasm, dick pulsing in his hand as the final drops of his cum beaded at the tip, sliding down his shaft.

Eddie’s chest heaved with his breathing. He slowly removed his hand from his sticky, softening cock, looking around for something to clean up with - fuck, he might as well go get in the shower. He sighed, forcing his weary body up and off the bed. His post-nut shame was creeping in, and he needed to go wash all this away before he started really hating himself.

He threw the yearbook back in his drawer, grabbed a change of clothes, and went into the hall bathroom. He got the water started then washed his hands off in the sink, his shame disappearing down the drain. He thought briefly, again, of you, and what you’d think of him if you knew what he did.

He tried to push those thoughts away as he climbed in under the hot water. He didn’t want to think about you being upset with him - he only wanted to think of you in this shower with him, kissing your soft lips and tangling his hands in your hair.

Eddie was trying to be innocent for once, he swears, but then his mental image of you smirked at him and dropped to her knees, and-

Eddie Munson was so fucked.

Eddie tried to go about life normally, but it was hard knowing what he’d done - and what he’d continue to do - every night alone in his bedroom. The panties and lotion found their home in a box in his closet he only pulled out when he was desperate for you - which was often.

It was hard to look you in the eyes after that night. When he saw you again Monday morning, he had averted his gaze, stared at your ass instead. Also not entirely unusual, but he wasn’t prepared for the guilt he’d feel around you.

He watched you throughout English class. Today you were wearing jeans that hugged your body just right, a cute little striped shirt that spread tight across your tits. God, Eddie, did you always have to be such a perv? Why couldn’t he talk about how pretty your eyes were, or how you always put together the most flattering outfits? How you had the best style of any girl in school - not just boring preppy Gap bullshit, but some personality in your look?

Eddie could have gone on and on about the things he liked about you, because yes, believe it or not, it was much more than just your body that had him obsessed. Much more. You were somehow the most popular girl in Hawkins, Jason Carver’s sister, and the coolest girl he’d ever met.

He hardly even realized class had passed him by as the bell rang and everyone started to stand, gathering their things. Eddie snapped out of his daydream and grabbed his own stuff, waiting for the perfect time to leave right behind you. When you and Carol stood, he knew it was his time.

Fuck, you looked even better in those jeans than he’d realized. His mouth watered, he longed to reach out and touch you.

“I can’t believe him,” Carol said quietly to you, and Eddie strained to hear the whispered conversation.

“I can,” you shrugged. “He’s always been…selfish.”

Who were you talking about?

“You need to stop sleeping with him,” Carol said. Eddie’s stomach clenched at the words - Steve. You were talking about Steve. “He’s no good for you. And you know he’s already told Tommy and all the guys about Friday night?”

“I’m sure he left out the part where he finished in a couple minutes and didn’t return the favor.”

Eddie almost laughed. The idea of you sleeping with someone else always made him upset - but that was nothing compared to the anger he felt over Steve running his mouth about you to the whole school.

He lost the two of you quicker than he would have liked in the bustle of the lunchtime rush. He looked around for you, hoping to spot the top of your head somewhere, but ultimately gave up and headed for the cafeteria.

Jason, Patrick, Andy, and Chance walked down the hall in the other direction, talking to each other. Eddie attempted to pretend they didn’t exist, as usual, but as they passed each other Jason reached out, knocking Eddie’s books out of his hands.

“Sorry, freak,” Jason quipped, high fiving Patrick as the other guys laughed, still walking away.

Eddie took a deep breath, then he bent over and picked up his books. He would never understand how you and Jason were twins.

You and Carol were standing in the lunch line together when Eddie got into the cafeteria, still talking. He thought about joining the line with you - buy himself a cookie or something - but the guys were already watching him from their table. He looked at you one last time, reluctantly tearing his eyes away as he made his way to his usual seat.

“What, not gonna follow Carver into the lunch line to stare at her ass some more?” Gareth teased, and Eddie hated how obvious he must have been.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie muttered. He flipped his lunchbox open, reaching for the bag of chips he’d packed. His fingers itched for a cigarette instead.

“I just can’t believe it’s Carver that Eddie’s obsessed with,” Dustin said. “Like…that’s not what I imagined your type to be whatsoever.”

Eddie shrugged. He wanted to list out all the reasons why he liked you so much, why he needed you so badly, but he knew that wouldn’t make things any better.

“Yeah, it makes no sense,” Gareth said, poking at his mac and cheese. “Like, yeah she’s hot as hell, but she’s also a Carver. Ms. Stuck up Queen of Hawkins.”

“Come on Gareth, be nice,” Jeff scolded. Then, a raised eyebrow - “but really Eddie? Her?”

“She’s-“ he almost started, almost outed himself as being even more head over heels in love with you than they already knew, but recognized the bait before he did. “She’s nice.”

“Sure,” Grant said.

Eddie didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. You were his, and he didn’t want to explain himself to his friends. He knew every guy at this table had been interested in you at some point or another, and he wasn’t about to reignite any old crushes.

In fact, Eddie more or less ignored his friends for the rest of lunch. The guys were coming over to his place tonight to talk the next campaign and pass a blunt around, and Eddie felt that was plenty interaction with them in one day.

After school, Eddie made a pit stop at Rick’s to pick up his supply. Rick was happy to see him, as usual, and he found himself pulled into a 30 minute conversation on government surveillance.

By the time he made it to the trailer, Jeff’s car was already sitting out front, the three of them waiting for Eddie. They climbed out as Eddie walked up the steps to unlock the front door.

“About time,” Gareth complained. “What, did you follow Carver home to peek through her windows first?”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie said sarcastically. He pushed the front door open and walked inside, letting his friends follow behind him.

The guys followed down the hall to Eddie’s cramped bedroom. While Eddie opened his stash box to pull out the blunt he’d rolled earlier, they found a place to sit. Then-

“Eddie, are you fucking kidding?” Gareth asked.

Eddie froze. He turned around slowly - finding Gareth standing next to the bed, holding your panties. His stomach dropped to his feet.

“Uh, what are those?” Jeff asked, brows furrowed in confusion. He leaned in for a closer look - yeah, those were definitely panties.

“Are these what I think they are?” Gareth asked, his voice rising.

“Uh- no, I mean-“

“What are you talking about?” Grant asked, confused, feeling like he was out of the loop. He didn’t connect the dots, until-

“You stole her panties?” Gareth choked out. “How did you- Eddie, what the fuck-“

Eddie snatched the panties from Gareth’s hand quickly, tossing them into the bedside drawer for now. Gareth watched - spotting the well-loved yearbook laying inside. “Dude, is that your jerk off drawer?”

Eddie’s face was bright red. “Gareth. Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh my god,” Jeff said, looking between Eddie and Gareth. “You are obsessed with her.”

“Those aren’t hers!” Eddie said quickly, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. “They’re…you know, probably got mixed up with my clothes at the laundromat, it happens sometimes-“

“So you just kept some stranger’s panties?” Gareth asked with his eyebrows raised, not believing a word out of Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie sighed. That was worse, wasn’t it? “Okay, they’re hers. But I’m not- I didn’t- look, they were there, and-“

Gareth held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear any more about your obsession with Carver. Whatever illegal creepy pervert shit you did to get those, I don’t wanna know. Let’s just smoke this blunt and talk about the campaign.”

Eddie was relieved the topic was changing, but his cheeks were still bright red, shame clinging to his skin like too-small clothes. He knew his friends thought his obsession was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. But he couldn’t help himself. You were you, and you were everything.

He sparked up the blunt, took the first drag, and let his worries fade away for the night.

Your teammates lifted you into the air. This was your favorite part of cheerleading - the rush of flying. You were lifted high with a spin, straight into a cupie. You held it for a few seconds, then grabbed your foot and lifted your leg, holding it straight up as you crossed your arm in front - a perfect bow and arrow. The girls tossed you up and into a perfectly executed basket toss, catching you and sitting you safely on the ground.

“Excellent, Carver!” Coach Mills yelled from her spot on the sidelines. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Your heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you beamed with pride. Landing a stunt was the best feeling, every time.

You were completely oblivious to Eddie watching from the sidelines. He was leaning against the fence, eyes locked on you and only you. He didn’t watch practice often, but when he could…

God, you were so good. It wasn’t even the glimpses up your skirt he got when you did tricks that made it so enthralling - you were genuinely really good at what you did. Eddie had always imagined cheerleading as waving pom poms around on the sidelines of a basketball game, but your competition routines were on a whole other level.

He watched the rest of practice, his heart slamming against his chest every time your teammates threw you in the air. He had to admit it scared him a little - he didn’t know how you did it.

After practice, you walked up the bleachers, laughing and talking with your teammates. Eddie watched, the way you had your leg up on the seat, bending over to retie your shoe.

He rushed under the bleachers.

It didn’t hurt just to take a little peek, right? He crept underneath the metal stands, until he was right beneath where you and your friends stood. He looked up and saw directly up your skirt - your pretty light blue panties on full display.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, locked in on the thin fabric covering your pretty pussy, the delicious curve of your ass. His jeans grew tighter, the zipper uncomfortable against his cock.

“I’m going to shower before everyone else uses all the hot water,” your friend - Sarah? Lauren? - said, picking up her gym bag. “You coming?”

“You can go ahead,” you said. “I like waiting until everyone’s gone. It’s peaceful.”

Your friend shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

The words you’d just said bounced around in Eddie’s head. You like waiting until everyone’s gone. That means you’d be in the locker room, showering - alone.

He knew this was too far. He knew he was seriously crossing boundaries this time - shit, was this illegal? - but fuck, the way his cock throbbed in his jeans at the mere thought, the possibility.

He rushed back into the school. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears. He lingered around the corner in the hallway leading to the women’s locker room. It was loud inside - he could hear the cheerleaders talking and giggling as they showered and changed.

And Eddie waited.

The entire time he waited, he questioned himself. Multiple times he almost left, talking some sense into his own brain and going home. Grabbing the yearbook and the panties and lotion and rubbing one out. But the promise of seeing more…

He waited until the girls started filing out of the locker room, not paying him any mind as he leaned against the wall pretending to read his book for English he hadn’t even started yet. He gave it a little bit after the last girls left, wanting to make sure no one was still in there but being cautious not to wait so long that you showed up before he could go in.

This had to be timed perfectly.

When he felt like the coast might be clear, he crept over to the door. He opened it just a few inches, listening carefully. He didn’t hear anything at all.

“…Hello?” he called, lowering his voice an octave in an attempt to not sound like himself in case someone was still in there.

He got no response. Satisfied and with adrenaline coursing through his body, he snuck inside the locker room.

It was deserted. Eddie let out a breath in relief - so far so good. He realized he hadn’t exactly planned this far - what was he supposed to do now? He looked around for a hiding space that would let him see you, and then - jackpot. An out-of-order shower stall.

He slipped inside the shower, closing the curtain tightly. He took a few deep breaths - okay, okay. He’d come this far, he was going to follow through with it.

God? I know you never hear from me, because I don’t believe in you, but please don’t let me get caught.

He waited even more. For a while. After a while Eddie thought about just leaving - maybe you decided to shower at home? But just as he was about to give up, reaching to open the shower curtain, the locker room door slammed shut. His stomach tied in knots - you were here.

“Come on, baby.”

Eddie froze. You weren’t alone.

“I said I’m done!” you exclaimed, sounding fed up. “The party was my limit, Steve, seriously. I’m sick of you and how you only care about yourself.”

“Baby, please. Don’t be like that.”

Eddie could practically hear the smirk in Harrington’s voice. He wanted to punch the guy. He slowly, carefully, slid the curtain to the side just an inch, peeking out.

You and Steve were perfectly in his line of view, by the sinks. You were unclipping the big green bow from your high pony, Steve leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, looking at you like something to devour.

“Don’t be like what, Steve?”

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. Did Steve really talk to you like that? He almost stepped out of the showers to defend your honor, but caught himself the second he began to lift his foot off the floor. He was powerless.

“I’m not being a bitch. I’m just done with you.” You sat the bow on the counter, picking up your hairbrush and beginning to comb it through your hair.

“You know you don’t mean that.” Steve pushed himself off the counter, sauntering over behind you. He put his hands on your hips like they belonged there. His front pressed against you from behind, and he lowered his head, whispering something in your ear that Eddie couldn’t make out.

You giggled. Was this douchebag’s bullshit really working on you? Eddie clenched his fist - he fucking hated that guy.

His eyes darted down to follow the movement - Steve’s hand was trailing up your skirt. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. He was whispering something to you Eddie couldn’t hear at all, but the more he said the more you leaned back into him, hairbrush forgotten on the counter as Steve’s hands slid over your body.

Then - with little warning, surprising even Eddie, Steve gripped you hard by the hips with one hand and by the hair with the other, bending you over the counter roughly. Eddie’s eyes went wide - oh shit.

“You wanna be a fucking brat?” Steve asked, lifting your cheer skirt and slapping you hard on the ass. Eddie jumped as the sound rang out loudly through the room, echoing all around. But you responded to the slap with a short moan, and holy fucking shit, that was the hottest thing Eddie had ever heard in his life.

His cock throbbed, filling out in his jeans. His heart was beating so hard he could barely hear the clinking sound of Steve urgently unbuckling his belt, undoing his jeans and pushing them down just enough to free his hard cock. Eddie hated to admit it, but Steve was huge. Maybe not quite as thick as Eddie, but…

He watched, practically drooling on the floor as Steve pulled your panties down, dropping them on the floor. He tried to get a good look at you - fuck, one look at your pussy and he could die a happy man. But he couldn’t quite see with Steve’s body in the way - which only pissed Eddie off more.

Steve rubbed his hands over the round of your ass - even more perfect with your panties off and skirt pushed up - like he was admiring it. Hell, he couldn’t blame him - Eddie would do the same.

“Why don’t you show me why they call you the King, Steve,” you taunted, pushing your ass back against his hips. Eddie’s breath hitched.

Steve hissed at the contact against his cock, then chuckled, slapping your ass one more time. “Oh, baby. I’ll have you screaming my name before you know what fuckin’ hit you.”

Steve dragged his cock through your folds, and Eddie tried to get a better look. You were a little too far away to see, too far to make out details - it frustrated him. But then Steve pushed inside of you and you whined, dropping your head forward, and Eddie’s cock twitched.

He was fully hard. As Steve pulled his hips back and began fucking into you, making you whine and moan, Eddie palmed himself over his jeans. He ignored Steve, picturing himself in his place. That only made his cock ache more, precum leaking from his tip and soaking his boxers.

He had to do something. You were right there, getting fucked, and Eddie was here to watch it.

He unbuckled his belt and slid his zipper down as slowly as possible, trying not to make a single noise. His body was buzzing with anxiety and excitement. When he got them open without alerting either of you, he reached into his boxers and started stroking himself, his rings cool against his hot skin.

Fuck. His eyes locked on where you and Steve were joined, where Steve was bucking his hips desperately, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. He pictured his own cock disappearing inside of your pussy, how warm and wet it would feel, how you would cry and moan for him instead.

He didn’t mean to - but Eddie moaned.

His eyes went wide, hand freezing its movements. He watched you and Steve, utterly frozen in place, his blood cold.

But neither of you noticed. Steve was grabbing your ponytail now, pulling it hard so you were forced to look into the mirror at him fucking you.

“You like that?” Steve huffed. “You like watching yourself get fucked?”

Oh god.

“Yes,” you moaned, practically crying out as Steve rutted his cock into you at a brutal pace. “I love watching you fuck me.”

Oh god, oh god.

Eddie pulled his cock out and squeezed it, precum dripping from his slit. He rubbed his thumb through it, spreading it down his shaft. He was flicking his wrist quickly, his breath coming out in little huffs.

The pretty little noises coming from your mouth were making him ache like he never had. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was the one fucking you. He closed them for a minute, listening to your moans and gasps and whines, picturing you wrapped tight around him while he buried himself in you, making you feel so good.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!” you would cry instead.

Why don’t you let me show you why they call me the freak?

He opened his eyes again in time to see Steve pull you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his chest while his other hand gripped onto your left hip. Steve roughly pulled up your cheer top and sports bra, and - oh fuck, those were your actual tits.

Eddie whimpered, his hips bucking into his fist uncontrollably. He planted his hand on the shower wall for support, twisting his hand around his cock faster and faster.

Steve ran his hand over your tits and down your body, until he reached that pretty pussy Eddie could only get the slightest glimpse of, and started rubbing quick circles against your clit. You keened, dropping your head back against his shoulder, soft lips parted in a silent gasp.

Eddie pumped his cock more aggressively, pulsing in his hand as he felt himself getting closer. His eyes were set on your tits, bouncing with every thrust from Steve - from Eddie, he pictured in his mind.

“Steve…oh god,” you whimpered, body nearly going limp in Steve’s arms. “‘m gonna cum.”

Those words coming from your mouth made Eddie nearly choke. He catalogued them in his brain for later, ready to play on repeat when he was alone and needy. He gave his cock a few quick jerks before slowing down, squeezing with the upstroke and thumbing his head. He shuddered - he was getting close, too.

“Come on, baby, make a mess all over my cock for me. Wanna feel you cum around me,” Steve encouraged, his voice raspy. God, you were all close.

You let out whimpering moans as he brought you higher and higher, the sound hotter than anything Eddie had ever heard. The quietest moan clawed its way from his throat - he couldn’t help it. He was so close and you were right there putting on such a good show, and his cock was throbbing in his hand, balls clenching tight as he was ready to blow probably the biggest load of his life.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you cried. “I- oh fuck, oh my god-“

Eddie knew the second you came, because you cried out loudly, gasping and shaking against Steve as your orgasm crashed through you, Steve smirking and fucking you harder as he whispered praises in your ear.

The second your body seized up with pleasure, making those hot little noises, it hit Eddie like a fucking truck. His jaw dropped open and he moaned, forgetting himself, electricity shooting up his spine. He flicked his wrist faster, cumming harder than he ever had, his spend landing against the shower curtain in endless ropes. He worked himself through it, working every last bit of cum out of his dick until there was nothing left.

He opened his eyes again just in time to see Steve with you bent over the counter again, pounding hard into you from behind - until he groaned, loud, stilling as he came inside you. Fuck, you let him cum inside?

Steve pulled out of you, and Eddie could see his cum dripping down your inner thigh. Holy fucking shit. That image was getting filed away in his brain, too.

“Knew you’d come back,” Steve laughed cockily, tucking himself away and redoing his jeans. He had that stupid fucking smirk on his face that pissed Eddie off so bad every time it was directed at you.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. You pulled your top and sports bra over your head, pushed your skirt to the floor. “I was horny and you asked.”

“Sure, baby,” Steve smirked. He ran his hand over your ass again. “Just remember all this belongs to me. And everyone knows it.”

“I’m going to take a shower.” You ignored him, grabbing your bag and heading for the showers. Eddie backed up away from the curtain, afraid you’d see him through the crack.

“Want me to join you?” he asked, but he was already picking up his backpack.

“Go home, Harrington.”

Steve just laughed. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left, letting the door fall closed behind him. He heard the shower start a few stalls down, and he let out a deep breath.

He had to clean up the cum on the curtain, he realized. Fuck. He looked all around before spotting a dirty towel, wiping his mess off the curtain and throwing the towel back in the dirty laundry.

Eddie snuck out of the shower stall and through the locker room. He didn’t relax a single bit until he was out of the locker room and safely down the hall, pushing the exit doors open and speed walking to his van.

Had he taken it too far?

But shit, that was worth it.

After the shower incident, Eddie made himself take a step back.

The post nut clarity had hit him hard after, like a punch to the face. He had taken it too far. Imagine if you knew what he’d done - he’d be even more of a Hawkins pariah than he already was. That didn’t bother him as much as the thought that you’d hate him.

He tried to stop thinking about you, he really did. He didn’t open the yearbook or stick his hand down his pants for 3 days. That was pretty much a record.

But you made it so hard. Just by existing, by being in the vicinity, Eddie could never think about anything else. He wanted you like he’d never wanted anything, not just your body but all of you. He wanted you to be his so bad he could barely breathe.

So how was he supposed to keep it together when you were right in front of him? When you giggled with your friends with that beautiful smile on your face, those glossed lips he longed to kiss. When you performed a cheer routine and made every other girl on the team look like a total amateur. When you answered a difficult question in class that just proved you had beauty and brains. They didn’t often go hand in hand.

And when you approached him after class Thursday, he swore his heart stopped. That’s the only way you’d be approaching him outside of the normal schedule - which he knew by heart. The only explanation was that he must have died and somehow gone to heaven, and you were the angel here to greet him.

You were wearing a short denim skirt and pink sweater today, your hair styled and earrings dangling from your lobes. You could have worn a garbage bag and you would still have taken his breath away.

“Hey Eddie,” you greeted as you found him by his locker, the sweetest smile on your face. You leaned against the wall of lockers next to him, clutching your books to your chest.

“O-oh…hey,” he greeted you back, trying to look casual as he was freaking out. “What’s up?”

“I was just thinking…” You glanced over, smiling and waving back at one of the cheerleaders as she passed by. You turned your attention back to Eddie - your plush lips shined with whatever lipgloss you were wearing, and Eddie longed to taste it, lick it right off. “Are you free tonight?”

He couldn’t help it - his eyes widened, mouth parting in shock before he could mask his surprise. “Yes- um, I mean, yeah. I’m free. What for?”

“Could we maybe…meet?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, looking like the picture of innocence - which he knew very well you were not. The contrast of your sweet expression with the girl he saw getting fucked in the school locker room sent his heart racing, cock filling out in his jeans. “Our usual spot?”

“Yeah? Yeah, of course,” he said quickly, nodding his head, curls bouncing. “3:30?”

“That’s perfect.” You smiled even bigger at him, looking like an absolute angel. “Thanks, Eddie. See you there.”

Eddie watched as you walked off, hips swaying, a million people stopping to greet or talk to you as you walked down the hall. Eddie wondered what it must be like to be popular. He wasn’t interested in it for himself, but it was a whole other world to him.

He wanted to tell the guys immediately that he was seeing you today, but thought better of it. They’d just laugh at him, ruin his excitement. This was for him - he held it close to his chest.

After school, he walked to the clearing as fast as his long legs could take him, metal lunchbox in hand. He didn’t have much on him today - he wasn’t expecting to ask to meet. Fridays were definitely his biggest days for sales, not so much the rest of the week.

He gave himself a pep talk as he trekked through the woods behind the school, ducking under branches and feet crunching on dead leaves. He thought about what he’d say - he had to be confident. He couldn’t be stuttering over his words like he had earlier. He rehearsed in his head the things he might say, over and over like he was running lines for a performance. He supposed he was.

When he reached the clearing, he sat on the edge of the picnic table. He picked up a dead leaf on the wood, fidgeting with it, tearing it apart piece by piece, crunching it between his fingers.

At the sound of footsteps, he jumped off the table, looking into the trees. He was sweating, and pretty sure he was currently having heart palpitations. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look at you without feeling like he was being hunted for sport.

You were alone - Carol and Tina nowhere to be found, much to Eddie’s relief. You smiled at him as you walked into the clearing. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than when he had seen you earlier. You had a scratch on your knee, probably from a sharp branch brushing against you on the way here. Your foot caught on a tree root on the way to the table, and Eddie rushed forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.

“Woah,” he said, casual, although the feeling of touching you, having you in his arms, sent his heart racing. “Careful, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks hot as you stood back up. “Embarrassing.”

“Not at all.” Eddie smiled kindly, and you realized in that moment that he had a really nice smile. A pretty smile. Eddie wasn’t a bad looking guy at all - he was cute, actually - and he was sweet, too. You found the nerdy thing to be endearing, his bad boy look enticing.

You took a seat on one side of the picnic table, so Eddie slid into the other side. He flipped open his lunchbox. “What can I help you with today, princess? I’m a little low on supply today, but I can get more from home.”

You looked around. “I had just been thinking…” You tapped your fingernails nervously on the wood, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “I guess I was just wondering…if you have anything…stronger?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that. He was shocked enough when he’d first learned that little miss Queen of Hawkins was a bit of a stoner - something that turned him on, if he was honest - but something beyond just weed?

“Um…” he thought for a second, mentally going over his supply. “I don’t have anything on me, but at the house I have some stuff. Have you ever done shrooms?”

You broke out into a grin. “No. Have you?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “I, uh, have some at the house, if you want to…get some?”

You smiled even bigger. “Oh, hell yeah. That sounds amazing.” You thought for a second. “I could ride home with you after practice?”

Eddie practically choked on air at that. “Ride- home? With me? To my house?”

You laughed, although a little awkwardly. “Yeah. You did say it was at the house, right? I mean I definitely don’t have to if you don’t want me to-“

“No!” Eddie said, too fast and too loud. “No. I mean, yeah, it’s fine. You can…uh, we’ll ride to my place together after practice. I’ll hang around.”

He was never ashamed of who he was or where he came from, but the idea of you standing in his trailer made him sweat even worse. But at the same time - you in his house? In his room, even?

“Cool,” you smiled. “You can always come watch practice, y’know, if you want.”

Eddie wasn’t about to say he had watched practice multiple times already, so he just nodded. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, I’ll hang out and watch.”

You smiled even bigger. You actually looked excited at the thought of Eddie watching you practice. “Practice ends at 5, so we can go to your place then.” Something occurred to you then, your smile fading. “Will your, uh…parents be there?”

“No, I live with my uncle,” Eddie explained. “And he works nights at the plant making the big bucks, so…just us.”

You seemed relieved at that. “That must be cool, having the house to yourself all night.”

Eddie shrugged sheepishly. “It can be. I usually just get high and fuck around on my guitar until I pass out.” And, you know, jerk off to your picture with your panties and lotion. It’s not like he had any girls coming over.

Until now. This would be the first time he’d ever had a girl over, and it was you. He had to be dreaming, right?

“Sounds like a good night,” you giggled. You stood from the table, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “I have to run to practice now, but I’ll see you after?”

“Yeah, of course. Won’t let you down,” Eddie said, then felt like a total idiot. “I’ll meet you out front.”

“Sounds good.” You gave him that beautiful smile, the one that always sent him reeling. “See you then, Eddie.”

He watched you go, frozen in place. It’s like his brain short circuited every time you said his name, like he felt it was something too lowly to roll off your tongue, but it always made him ache. Once he snapped out of it, he grabbed his stuff and headed for the field.

At least he could watch you without hiding this time.

part 2 next week

tag list

@walleloveseve @votel4dybird @justalotoffanfiction @jamesthetrans @cindyloohoohoo @trashbe @sebs-oxygen @vinecstasy @mrsjellymunson @jaxyy219 @themorticians-world @venuslayla23-blog @dreamerjj @missjadesfics @robinbuckleywife @fandom-princess-forevermore @ali-r3n @playboysweetie @losingmygrasponreality @djodirt @samslvrgirl @ratsematary @cheesesandwichsanto @rainybloo28 @angxlg0dz @mopeymopeymouse @strangerthing93 @bellalillyrose @awkward00noodle @hannahmassey30 @xplrnowornever @thestrals-and-firewiskey @badasspizzalover @parodsal000 @charmed-asylum @spikeybatt @kyber4crystal @jeangeniex @differentsharkzombie @shmeddieshmunson @crybabyddl @queen-honeybee-stories @batbabyeddie @minaxcarter @meankenna @4everdweeb @dancininseptember @meetmeatyourworst

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jqmalikhsgib · 4 days ago

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heaven is between her thighs

warnings: oral sex (f!receiving)

word count: 1,028

“I can’t believe this is all for me, puppy. So fucking wet…”

Her white cotton panties weren’t hiding anything- especially with the darkened wet spot visible between her legs. y/n was so wet, and she thinks that if Harry wasn’t physically holding her down, her legs would be squeezed together out of embarrassment.

His fingers brush over the wet spot, the action sending a shiver down her spine. The panties are pulled taut over her cunt, her slit visible from under the fabric. “You like that? You like when I touch you over your pretty little panties?” Harry looks up at her from where he is, lying between her legs where his face is inches from her center.

From her laying down position, she props herself onto her elbows so she can make eye contact with him. His eyes stare into hers, a ravenous look on his face. She brushes her hand through his curly hair, tugging slightly at the roots. “I need you so fucking bad Harry… please.” y/n begs, voice filled with need.

He chuckles at her desperate begging, his fingers hooking through the hemline of her underwear, pulling it down her legs and discarding it to the floor.

She’s absolutely /soaked/. Her pussy is coated in arousal, glistening in the light of their bedroom. “You’ve been hiding this from me all day, yeah? Hiding this wet cunt underneath that little dress you wore out tonight, fuck. Can’t believe you were like this around our friends. /aching/ for my touch while everyone else was having a good time together. So fucking naughty.”

It’s true- her thighs were constantly rubbing together at the bar tonight in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure from her clit. When Harry noticed, he only made it worse for her- whispering naughty things in her ear, grabbing her thighs and kissing her /way/ more than usual.

He uses both of his hands to spread her lips, revealing her clit, which was erect and /begging/ for attention. The way he’s staring at her cunt like a predator hunting prey is enough to make the arousal in her stomach twist even more.

As if it was a magnet, his mouth was immediately on her, licking around her clit while his nose was buried in her mound. His face was fully shoved into her, pressing like he couldn’t get closer.

“Holy- shit.” y/n moans, grasping his hair on his head harder than before at the feeling of his mouth on her. Her hips rut against his face, but was quickly corrected by his hands wrapping around her legs and holding her hips down.

“Stay still, or I stop.”

A pathetic whimper leaves her throat at his demand. His tongue works her clit, switching between tracing small circles over it and sucking it into his mouth. He can’t help but groan at the taste of her, the vibration coursing through her body and making her moan out his name.

“Taste so fucking good. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” He takes a break to breathe, moving his thumb over her clit and rubbing while he talks. “I wish I could eat it for every meal, bury my face in this cunt and make you cum on my mouth every single fucking meal.” His chin is coated in a mix of arousal and his saliva, a filthy sight.

Harry’s mouth returns to her clit, fingers moving down to tease at her entrance, before slipping two fingers inside.

She whines, back arching at the feeling of his fingers inside of her. “Harry, I- fuck-“

He pulls away from her again, this time thrusting his fingers inside of her while his thumb works her clit. “Aw, dumb puppy can’t even form a sentence. Do my fingers feel too good? Feel bigger and better than your own? Use your words.”

“Yes, so much fucking better. So much bigger.” She chokes out, the arousal in her tummy getting stronger. “Feels so fucking good.”

His fingers find that spot inside of her that makes her squirm, brushing up on it with every stroke. Another loud moan leaves her lips at the feeling, sending her to the edge of orgasm.

“Harry- im gonna- im gonna cum, please? Can I cum?” y/n always asked if she could cum, which made his head /spin/. He hadn’t even asked her to do that, she just did, and that’s what he absolutely loved.

“You’re such a good girl for asking, baby.” His fingers work faster, his eyes looking up at her. “Go ahead, cum for me. I wanna feel you squeeze my fingers with this cunt. Fucking cum all over my face and fingers.”

“Oh my god- thank you! Thank you thank you thank you-“

With a loud cry, her hips thrust forward and against his hand, her orgasm coursing through her body. Her walls squeeze around his fingers, pulsing with each wave of pleasure, and back arching off of the bed.

His fingers work her through, slowing down when she starts to come down from her high. “Jesus Christ-“ she breathes out, reaching down to push his hand back, overstimulated from her orgasm. “S’too much.”

He laughs, pulling his fingers out of her, a small whine coming from her lips at the emptiness. “You did so good for me, always do such a good job for me, pretty girl.” He takes his fingers that are wet with her arousal and cleans them with his mouth, leaning up to press a kiss to her lips.

y/n lets out a small sigh, still catching her breath from coming so hard. “Do you- do you want a blowie? I don’t mind.” She borderline pants, looking at Harry who is now hovering over her.

His bulge is prominent in his jeans, but he shakes his head no regardless. “I’m okay, baby. Getting you off gets me off.” He rolls over to lay next to her, pulling her into his arms, her body curling against him.

“We still gotta get you cleaned up-” he starts, before hearing a small snore from where she lays on him. He laughs quietly, settling his head on the pillow beside him. “It can wait.”

a/n: sorry about the hiatus yall… hopefully i can update more regularly now that my classes are over!!!

taglist: @devilsqueen722 @angeldavis777

taglist is open!!!!

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jqmalikhsgib · 4 days ago

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recommendation masterlist

personal favourites

smut

angst

boyfriend!harry

husband!harry

famous!harry

au!harry

soulmates

roommate!harry

older!harry

dad!harry

singledad!harry

longtimepartner!harry

bestfriend!harry

forbiddenrelationship!harry

note: please let me know if you want me to make any more specific lists <3

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jqmalikhsgib · 6 days ago

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these release dates are so funny can you imagine "babe pause the family christmas function i gotta see if mike and will kiss"

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jqmalikhsgib · 8 days ago

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right where you left me. (the masterlist)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern day au) total word count: 39,640

summary: a weekend gateway to with your old high school friends? sounds like a dream! only it’s not really as it’s been three years since you last saw them. three years since you left hawkins without so much as a goodbye, and certain people tend to hold grudges.

content warnings: friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, angsty, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, eddie is a bit of an asshole, mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, discusses sobriety, and also touches on topics of: unrequited love, divorce, death, grief, toxic relationships, mental health, self-doubt / insecurities, love triangle? — pls read the cw's for each chapter and let me know if i missed any!

psa: any images used in chapter headers don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also vaguely — if at all— described in the story.

a/n: the following are some songs i think they fit perfectly with their story, so i wanted to share them with you.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

main masterlist

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jqmalikhsgib · 8 days ago

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Hiii!!! Missing my lil family 🥺I wanted to request something about them! Father day is coming up!! I wanted to request uhhh! The kids and Mrs.Sweetheart planned a very nice trip for Eddie on father day like a picnic with the family and included Wayne! Please it can be a very heartwarming one

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: You, Harris, and Hendrix prepare a special surprise for Father's Day, but it's Wayne Munson who brings laughter to the celebration.

TW: all fluff, brief mention of Eddie's troubled childhood

WC: 1.4k

A/N: thank you to @corroded-hellfire for coming up with a treehouse story.

June 2004

Chaos never takes a break in the Munson household. Not even on Father’s Day.

No sooner does Eddie step foot through the front doorway is his three-year-old son scrambling in from the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself to get to Eddie.

Hendrix Munson stands in front of him, arms and legs splayed out wide like a starfish. That is, if starfish wore Hot Wheels t-shirts stained with peanut butter.

“Do not come in the kitchen!” Hendrix warns. The peanut butter, Eddie notices, also sticks to his fingers.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “And why, pray tell, can I not go in the kitchen in my own home?”

“Because,” Hendrix lets out an indignant sigh, “we’re doing a ‘sembly line, but you can’t see it.”

Harris’ voice calls out, “It’s assembly line, Hen. Emphasis on the ‘ass.’” He bursts out laughing, and Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep from joining in.

“Harris! Language!” You put down the slice of bread you’re holding and look sharply at your twelve-year-old son. The last thing you need is to get another reprimanding from Hendrix’s daycare about his use of swear words. You already had to have a talk with Wayne after Hendrix called one of his little friends a sumbitch.

“Sorry,” Harris grumbles, but a hint of a smirk plays on his lips.

Eddie turns his attention back to the tiny security guard that blockades his path. “When can I come in? Or should I change my name to Daddy the Banished?”

You smile as you finish cutting the final sandwich on a diagonal. You made sure to prepare everyone’s favorites: turkey and cheese for Eddie, egg salad for Wayne, peanut butter and jelly for Harris, and peanut butter no jelly for Hendrix. Your own sandwich was already safely tucked away in the picnic basket, along with a fruit salad, a package of Oreos, and a bottle of iced tea.

“Go change into something comfortable.” You kiss your husband gently, leaving your lips and his with a lingering smile. “We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?” But his question falls on deaf ears as you usher the boys outside, before either of them can spill the beans.

Eddie sighs, but his grin betrays whatever annoyance he’s trying to portray. Before this—before you and the little family you’d created with him—spontaneity was rarely a good thing. Spontaneity meant that his deadbeat father was out of prison and begging for a place to stay. It meant an unexpected bill or Harris getting sick and needing to go to the doctor.

Now, spontaneity means a Father’s Day surprise. One that apparently involves picking Wayne up from his trailer, Eddie soon learns. Happiness bubbles up from his chest when his sons greet their grandfather. The two of them talk over each other, eager to fill Wayne in about their week.

“Grampa, are you wearing your ears?” Hendrix pipes up from his carseat.

Wayne chuckles and taps just below where his hearing aid sits. “Always. Gotta make sure I can hear my boys.”

Eddie refrains from scoffing. His uncle makes it sound like wearing hearing aids was a mutual decision rather than what it really was: a years-long, back-and-forth argument. It culminated in Wayne finally caving when Eddie gave him the ultimatum of wearing hearing aids or not being able to watch Harris and Hendrix.

A few minutes later, you pull the sedan into a familiar parking lot. Beside you, Eddie raises his brows.

“My Father’s Day surprise is at the park?” He lets out a low whistle. “This place reminds me of when I used to sell—lemonade,” he quickly amends. A flush of crimson paints his cheeks at his near-admission.

Hendrix is practically vibrating in his carseat as he pleads, “Mommy, can we tell Daddy and Grampa about the surprise now?”

You laugh, knowing that he’ll explode from excitement if you say no. “Go ahead.”

“We’re having a picnic! Me an’ Harris an’ Mommy made sandwiches with an ass-embly line!”

Wayne’s eyebrows nearly hit his scalp. “You made sandwiches with a what now?”

“Ass-embly line,” Hendrix states matter-of-factly. “Like Harris took out the bread, Mommy put stuff in the sandwiches, and I closed them.”

Harris presses his forehead to the window, cheeks puffed out as he holds in his laughter. He lets out a yelp when Wayne good-naturedly flicks him behind the ear.

“Well, I’m excited.” Eddie says from the passenger seat. “Food and my favorite people? Count me in.”

You snag the first available table; Wayne’s already proclaimed that he can sit down on the grass but without a guarantee he’ll get back up. He sits next to Eddie, across from you and the boys.

Harris divides the plates between everyone as you dole out the sandwiches, keeping a close eye on your younger son who has set his sights on the Oreo package.

“Hey, Grampa?” Hendrix asks, finally having relented on the idea of having dessert before lunch.

“Hay is for horses.”

Hendrix giggles, taking another sticky bite of his peanut butter sandwich. “No, Grampa. Can you tell us another story about when Daddy was little?”

Eddie groans in protest, but Wayne launches into the tale without hesitation. “Y’know, I had a feeling you were gonna ask for another story. I came prepared.” His tired eyes gleam with mischievous excitement. “Did I ever tell you about the time your dad wanted to build a treehouse?”

Both boys shake their heads.

“Well.” Wayne places his sandwich on the plate and brushes the crumbs from his weathered hands. “He was about your age, Har. And I dunno where he got the idea from. But all of a sudden he’s barging into my room and tellin’ me that he’s gonna build a treehouse. Except…we were livin’ in the trailer park. We didn’t have any trees. We didn’t even have a yard. Of course, I couldn’t talk him out of it–”

“So what happened?” Harris interrupts, jumping to his feet impatiently.

Wayne puts his hand up and chuckles. “Gimme a second, Har Bear. I’m getting there. Anyway,” he takes a sip of iced tea, “I was tired from working doubles, so I took a nap. When I wake up, he’s outside the trailer, kneeling in front of a bush and trying to duct tape together some two-by-fours.”

You glance at your husband in disbelief. “You tried to tape the boards together?”

“Couldn’t find the old man’s tool kit,” Eddie grumbles. Embarrassment flushes his cheeks pink.

“Thank God for small miracles.” Wayne shakes his head. “Anyway, I call out to him, I go, ‘Ed, what the he–heck are you doing?’ and without missing a beat, he goes, ‘building a bush house.’”

Harris and Hendrix burst out laughing. The sound of your boys so happy makes your heart soar. Every time you hear it, you’re hit with a wave of gratitude that you wish you could ride out forever.

“Dad, a bush house?” Hendrix manages through a laugh. “That is so silly!”

“I was bored!”

“You should’ve played your GameBoy,” Hendrix says. He clumsily reaches for an Oreo but yanks his hand back when he catches you tracking his movement.

“Dad’s old. He didn’t have GameBoys when he was a kid,” Harris reminds his brother. He scrunches up his face and looks at Eddie. “Did you even have electricity back then?”

Eddie balks in offense. “It was the 1970s, not the 1770s!” He smirks. “Grampa is so old that they didn’t even have microwaves when he was born. Or color TVs.”

The boys gawp at their grandfather, barraging him with questions about if he lived in a log cabin or ever saw a dinosaur. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him discreetly flip off his nephew.

Eddie swallows a mouthful of deli turkey and presses a kiss to your temple. “You know that I adore you, right?” His murmur is only loud enough for you to hear. This is what he always wanted–this time spent with family, creating memories, holding a space where everyone felt safe to learn and grow and make mistakes.

You smile and turn to him, kissing him right on the lips with a smacking mwah. “I know.”

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jqmalikhsgib · 8 days ago

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baby daddy!eddie munson x mom!reader

summary: when some unfortunate news comes your way, eddie is there to pick up the pieces.

cw: lots of fluff, one bed trope

a/n: sorry this part is so short for how long it took to get out. but there will be more of these two to come!

Eddie took a long drag on his cigarette. The weather was starting to warm up, so he found it easier to enjoy his front porch compared to the colder months. He had a strict no smoking rule in his house so that Autumn wouldn’t be exposed to anything. Though it was hard in the winter when he was by himself not to just light one up in the kitchen. His big trailer was really lonely when his daughter wasn’t around.

Speaking of, your car pulled up just in time for him to put the butt out in the overflowing ashtray he had sitting out on the small table. It was something he meant to take care of, but keeping a trailer put together all the time by himself was a daunting task, tending to keep the inside as clean as he could and putting other projects on the back burner.

“Hey!” Eddie called to you as you got out of the driver seat, giving him a wave. Though, you didn’t seem all that happy to see him. There was a forlorn look on your face that he could read after so many years of friendship. Something must have happened, he thought. Hopefully it wasn’t what he was thinking it was.

Trotting down the steps, Eddie made his way to Autumn’s side of the car, pulling the door open to greet her.

“Hey there, princess!”

“Dada!” Autumn squealed from her car seat. Eddie makes quick work to undo her, pulling her tiny body from her confines and taking her in for a big hug.

“Daddy missed you, sweet thing. How was time with Grammy and Gramps?”

“Gammy,” Autumn said in her baby voice.

Eddie gasped, looking at you.

“I know, she just recently started saying it,” you say with a smile.

“Audy, you are so smart, you know that? If you weren’t my twin I’d think you were too smart to be mine,” Eddie says, bouncing her up and down eliciting giggles from the small girl.

“Dada.”

“That’s me,” Eddie says joyfully.

“Hey, Eddie,” you suddenly say, tone of voice grabbing Eddie’s attention.

“What’s up?”

“Can we…talk inside.”

Eddie swallows hard. “You’re not about to tell me you’re pregnant are you?”

You shake your head wildly. “No, god no.” You pause for a moment and look at him at chest level. “But I don’t know if what I have to say might be any better…”

“Okay, well, let’s go inside then,” Eddie says, turning to let you walk first. He follows behind you into the trailer, setting Autumn down and turning on Muppet Babies..

“So…?” Eddie starts, looking at you with curious eyes.

You breathe in deep, letting out a sigh that only made Eddie more anxious.

“My parents are moving.”

Eddie looks at you, waiting for you to continue, because what could be wrong with your parents moving?

“Like, an hour away.”

Oh.

“When did this happen?” Eddie asks, not sure what to feel about this.

“They said they’ve been casually looking for something more rural for a while but they finally found a house they liked and decided to go for it.”

Eddie thinks for a moment. “So…what does that mean about you and Autumn?”

“Well,” you start, “I don’t really have any other choice than to move with them. I can’t afford a two bedroom by myself on the grocery store’s salary. And I don’t want to burden anyone by asking them to be a roommate while I have Autumn.”

“No, you guys can’t move,” Eddie says, panicked. There’s no way you’d be able to keep the same schedule if you were an hour away. Eddie would have to be apart from Autumn for probably a week at a time. And there was no way he was losing you, too.

“Why don’t…why don’t you move in here? With me? It would be so much easier to have us all in one spot, and, and you would be able to work less. You can drop to part time and Wayne is right over there so he can watch Autumn while we both have work.” There’s a slight pause after Eddie finishes his ramble. He can tell the gears are working in your head by the way your eyebrows knit together in thought.

“But, it’s only a two bedroom here…” You finally say.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Eddie, no--”

“Please,” he brings his hands together and pleads. “I was just thinking about how lonely I get when Autumn isn’t here. I would love to have you both stay here with me, even if I lose my bed.”

“But you work so hard, why would you want to sleep on the couch after a long day at the shop?”

“Because that’s how much I care about you guys. I’ll say please as many times as I have to to get you to say yes. I’ll let you decorate, I’ll cook for you, I’ll--I’ll do anything.”

Silence. Eddie feels himself losing you with every second that passes and he can’t stand it. Tears start to well in his eyes the more he thinks about how much things are going to change.

“What if…” You say suddenly, and Eddie’s ears perk up.

“Yeah?”

“What if we share the bed? It’s not like we haven’t done it before. And…it might be nice to not have to drive an hour to bring Autumn to see you.”

Eddie could scream right now. Had he really convinced you to stay? To move in with him and live out the domestic fantasies he’s always had about the two of you? Even if it’s not the real thing, he would still get to come home to you like it was.

“Y-yeah, I don’t mind that,” Eddie stutters.

You nod your head, still clearly in thought. “Let me think about it and I’ll let you know. Should probably talk to my parents about it and see what they say. You should probably talk to Wayne and get his input, too.”

“Sure, I’ll see what he has to say.”

Which is exactly what Eddie did after you left.

“So she might move in with you?” The older man says, looking at his nephew carefully.

“She has to think about it, but I think so,” he says, taking a sip from his iced tea.

“Hmm, you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, why would it not be?”

“Well, for starters, you two ain’t together. Even though you want to be.”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, so?”

“So? So what if she meets somebody. Nothin’s stoppin’ her from running into somebody at the grocery store and hittin’ it off with ‘em.”

Eddie looks down, he hadn’t really thought about that.

“Or what if you meet someone. Do you really want to have to explain to them that you live with your child’s mother?”

“I won’t,” Eddie says, sure as day. You were the only one for him. Even if you didn’t feel the same way, he wasn’t going to be falling for anyone else any time soon. And even if by some chance he did, well, you two would just have to cross that road when you got there. Not like you and Autumn were ever going to be out of his life, so the other person would just have to deal with it.

Wayne sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not going ta tell ya not to do it, but I’m just warnin’ ya that it’s not gonna be what you think it is.”

“I’m not expecting much,” Eddie says defensively. “I just think it’ll be better for Autumn is all.”

“Whatever ya say, boy.”

The sun was bright and warm as Eddie unloaded boxes from the back of Wayne’s truck. He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead as he set another box on the kitchen counter, the space slowly starting to look like the inside of a warehouse from the amount of boxes you had between yourself and Autumn.

“Here ya go,” you say from the other side of the counter. Eddie peers around the small tower of cardboard to see you holding an ice cold glass of lemonade. Licking his lips, Eddie takes the glass from you and downs it quickly.

“Thanks,” he says, letting out an exaggerated breath to show his satisfaction. You laugh at him, taking the glass from his hand carefully and setting it on the kitchen counter.

Eddie had been watching you carefully as you moved about his house, putting things in places that you saw fit. Every pass he made into the house felt more and more like you were taking over and he couldn’t be more happy. He didn’t know how you were going to fit everything, but you seemed determined with every box that you opened to make things work.

“I think there’s only a few more boxes left and then I’ll be done,” Eddie says to you as you refill his cup for him.

“Why don’t you take a break? The boxes aren’t going anywhere,” you say as you hand him the glass again.

“I will once I’m done. Then I’ll help you unpack stuff. You had more than I was expecting.”

“That’s because my parents gave me some of their stuff. Like decorations and all that,” you say, leaning against the counter. The angle you're leaning at is giving Eddie the perfect view down your shirt, but he’s trying to be a good friend so he distracts himself with a drink. But then he thinks about the fact that you’re going to be naked in his house sometimes, like when you change clothes and take showers. What if you forget your towel and ask Eddie to get it for you? He’ll know your bare on the other side of the door and won’t have anywhere to run to take care of himself.

Shit, Eddie really didn’t think this through.

“Well, that was nice of them,” Eddie gulps, trying to bring himself back to reality before his mind starts spiraling.

“The house they’re moving into is smaller, so they didn’t need everything anyway. Plus, I think it makes it look more homey in here. You definitely had the bare minimum going on,” you say and Eddie laughs.

“Hey, I’m just a guy and his daughter. Most of the stuff in here is hers,” he says, thumb pointing over to where Autumn was playing in her play pin.

“I guess that’s true. Most of the rest of the boxes are her stuff, so we may need to go through them and start getting rid of stuff. I’m sure there’s duplicates of things between the houses.”

“Could separate some stuff for your parents to take,” he suggests.

“True. Maybe we can do that tonight when she goes to bed?”

“Y-yeah sure,” Eddie says. Maybe the lack of privacy would be made up by the domestic activities the two of you would get to do together.

Autumn was more difficult to get down tonight than usual. Eddie just chalked it up to her excitement that mommy and daddy were in the same place at the same time tonight. Once she was finally asleep, Eddie plopped down on the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. She was a pistol today, wanting attention from the two of you non-stop. It left a lot of boxes still needing to be unpacked, but Rome wasn’t built in a day Eddie reasoned. Not like you guys were going anywhere.

The couch sank as you took a seat next to him, head resting against the back as you let out your own sigh. It lolled to the side, and he turned his head to look at you. “That was nice,” you say, smiling as your eyes meet his. Eddie chuckled, mimicking your slumped appearance.

“Easier with two people,” he says.

“Oh, for sure,” you nod. “Glad to have you as my partner in crime every night from now on.”

From now on. Your words made Eddie feel all warm inside. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. All he’s wanted was to spend nights with you like this, putting your daughter to bed and then doing fuck all for a couple hours before going to bed together. The thought that this all might be temporary still lingered in the back of his mind, but he wasn’t going to let that demon ruin this for him on day one.

“Eddie?” Your voice called his attention.

“Huh? Sorry, what?”

You laughed, “I asked if you still wanted to go through her stuff or if you were still tired.”

“Oh, sure, we can,” Eddie says, followed up by a huge yawn. That had you giggling, leaning forward in your spot on the couch.

“We can save it for another day. Not like she’s in much need for toys here.” You gesture at the small living room, toys scattered all about from Autumn’s playing today.

“Ah, yeah, better get this cleaned up,” Eddie says, shifting from the couch onto the floor, almost sitting on some of her blocks. You follow suit, sliding until you’re next to him on the carpet. The two of you quietly put toys away together while the TV plays softly in the background. You had some near miss touches as the two of you went for the same toys a couple times, Eddie’s skin lighting up like tiny bolts of lightning were zapping through his hands.

“Did you like dinner?” You asked out of the blue. Eddie looks to you like you had two heads.

“Uh, yeah, it was awesome,” Eddie says, thinking about the intricate pasta dish that you made for the three of you. “I’m definitely going to get used to having someone to take turns cooking with around here.”

“I can’t wait to see what you cook,” you say teasingly, pushing him lightly with your hand.

“Hey, I’ve learned how to make more than some spaghettios since having an extra mouth to feed.”

“I’m sure you’re a five star chef now, Munson,” you say with a chuckle. You look at him for a long minute, and Eddie feels slightly squirmy under your gaze. It wasn’t one he was familiar with from you, and it made him feel like he was under a spotlight.

“Well, we can take turns cooking,” Eddie suggests, eyes on the very interesting threads of carpet. “That way it’s fair.”

“Um, no, that’s not fair,” you say with a shake of the head.

“What? Why not?” Eddie says, brows pinched together in confusion.

“Because you work way more than me,” you say, a hand coming to your chest. “I’ll be making sure you guys are fed from now on.”

“No, you don’t have to do that--”

“You can have weekends, sometimes, if you really feel like cooking,” you offer to him before he can argue more. “Otherwise, I’m doing my part around here by cooking and cleaning.”

Okay, this is not what Eddie wanted when he said he wanted a domestic life with you. Sure, he wanted to come home to you and have dinner with you and Autumn and maybe kiss you on the lips after a long day at work. But the last thing he wanted was for you to think you had to basically be his maid. He wanted things to be equal between the two of you.

“But you’re still working. It can’t all be on you.”

“You told me I could drop down to part time. I’ll have so much free time I won’t know what to do with myself besides keep this place in ship shape.” Eddie still isn’t convinced. You turn to him, getting on your knees and bringing your hands together. Eddie both likes and dislikes this image you’re giving him, his brain fighting himself on how to feel in this moment. “If I promise to ask you for help if I need it, will that make you happy?” You give him big doe eyes and Eddie can feel himself being chipped away at.

“Alright, fine,” he says with a huff. “I’ll accept your offer. But know I’m not pleased with it.”

“Great!” You exclaim, happy with his surrender. You pounce forward, taking Eddie in a tight embrace. Eddie wasn’t expecting it, and the two of you topple over, leaving you practically laying on top of him. Eddie can feel his heart start to beat out of his chest at the sudden closeness, and he wonders if you can feel it against yours as you press yourself against him.

Eddie slowly wraps his arms around you, hugging you to him. You were surely going to be the death of him. There was no way around it. Eddie had dug himself deep into this hole and there was no way of getting out now. He decided then and there that he would do everything in his power to be perfect for you. He’d cut his hair, change his name, start working out, cover up all his tattoos. Whatever he needed to be what you were looking for. What you needed him to be.

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. Eddie was still, not wanting to end this sooner than you were wanting it to. He did chance looking down at you, your head so close to his that he could feel your hair tickling his cheeks. But after a moment, he started to notice the slow rhythm of your breathing and got suspicious. He said your name softly, and when you didn’t respond it confirmed what he was thinking.

“Hey.” He says your name again, gently shaking you this time. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.” It was still early for him, but he was eager to share his bed with you again. It had been some of the best sleep of his life the last time you laid next to him.

You roused slightly from your sleep, head shooting up but your eyes remaining closed as you hovered over him. “What?” You said sleepily, looking around as if you’d be able to see anything in your daze. Eddie watches as you push off of him, stretching and yawning in your spot next to him. “Sorry, sleepy…” You say. Eddie chuckles at your apology, pushing himself off the ground until he can get back on his feet. He offers you a hand and you lazily take it.

Once the two of you are up, you start towards the hall and disappear around the corner, leaving Eddie in the dust. He stands there for a moment, thinking that you’d probably be getting dressed for bed in his room. Did you unpack any of your sleep clothes? You could always--

“Eddie?” He hears you call from down the hall. He heads to you, moving quickly to not keep you waiting. When he makes it to the bedroom, he sees you have some of his clothes in your hands. “Can I borrow these tonight?” You ask, exhaustion all over your features.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says, not about to tell you no to wearing his clothes. You nod slowly, moving towards him until you’ve passed by him in the doorway. You flick the light on to the bathroom and close the door, leaving him once again. Eddie gets the idea to change while you’re doing your thing, opting for just a pair of pajama pants since it was starting to get hot outside. Last thing he wanted was to get all sweaty in your shared bed.

“Goodnight.”

Eddie turns to see you walking into the room. You look so cute in his clothes Eddie can barely stand it. And he loves the way you just plop into his bed without a care in the world.

Oh, are you taking all of the covers? Eddie will just have to steal some back from you after you’ve passed out. Or he can freeze to death. Whatever makes you more comfortable.

Eddie leaves you to sleep while he does his nightly routine, getting more giddy at the idea of you being in his bed when he goes back into the room. He even brushes extra hard to try and keep the morning breath at bay for you. Wouldn’t want to give you a reason to change your mind about sharing the bed with him.

By the time he reaches the bedroom again, you’re fast asleep in his bed. He can’t get over the sight of you snoozing softly into the pillow you’ve claimed for yourself and does a little happy dance in the doorway.

Once he’s calmed down, he tip-toes to the bed and slowly climbs his way inside, doing his best not to disturb you. He gently tugs the covers from your sleeping form and covers himself with what you’ll allow him to have. Maybe the two of you would need to invest in a bigger comforter for the bed, but at least it’s warm enough that Eddie doesn’t need much to keep him comfortable.

As soon as he’s settled on his side, Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you while you sleep. He can’t believe you’re laying next to him in your now shared bed. Circumstances be damned, Eddie knew then and there that things could only go up from here between you. He whispers a quick I love you into the air next to you before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to wash over him.

Little did he know, you had woken up when he crawled into bed, and you’d heard his little confession loud and clear…

thanks for reading!

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jqmalikhsgib · 9 days ago

Text

wedding night

Summary: It’s your wedding night and Harry can’t wait to get his hands on you.

Type: Blurb

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The door shut softly behind us, sealing off the world we’d just come from—the music, the toasts, the chaos of the day—leaving only silence and us.

I stood in the middle of the honeymoon suite, hands twisting the delicate lace of my veil, still perched in soft waves over my hair.

The moment we stepped into our suite, his hands were on me, sliding under the fabric of my wedding dress.

The dress slipped off my shoulders and pooled at my feet, leaving me standing in nothing but the white lace lingerie set I’d chosen just for him. It clung to my skin like a secret, sheer and delicate—made just for his eyes and pleasure. The soft veil framed my face and cascaded down my back, the fabric making me feel both fragile and fierce.

He leaned against the closed door, eyes dragging over me like a slow burn. The black suit he still wore, tie loosened and collar unbuttoned, made him look dark and delicious, like sin wrapped in silk. His curls were slightly tousled from dancing, lips parted, eyes heavy with desire.

“Fuck me,” he whispered.

He took a step closer, his black suit sharp and almost too formal against the softness of my lace. His hands came up, trembling just a little, as they hovered before finally settling on my hips.

“You look…. You’re..” he was at a loss for words.

“Holy fuck…” he spoke again as he loosened his tie.

I swallowed hard, feeling the heat radiate off him, the tension thick enough to taste. I’d never seen him so flustered.

His hands were still on my hips, his gaze drinking me in like he couldn’t believe I was real. I ran my fingers down the lapels of his black suit jacket, smiling softly as I watched his jaw clench.

“I had it custom made,” I whispered, voice just barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “Just for tonight.”

His eyes flicked up to mine—dark, heated, hungry. That was all it took.

He crashed his mouth to mine, all restraint snapping. His hands moved up, one cradling the back of my head, the other gripping my waist with a desperation that made my knees weak.

The kiss was deep and filled with need. His tongue slid against mine like he was claiming me, just how I wanted. My fingers curled in his jacket as I melted into him, already trembling.

His lips were everywhere—soft, warm, and intentional. He started at my neck, slow and lingering, brushing kisses along my skin. I tilted my head back, moaning softly as his mouth found the hollow of my throat.

I shivered beneath him, fists tightening as his lips traveled lower, down the slope of my shoulder, across the delicate bone he exposed when he pushed the lace strap aside with his nose.

He kissed the top of my chest, right above the line of my bra, and whispered against my skin, “I’m gonna make you feel as good as you look, baby..”

I whimpered—quiet and aching—because I knew he’d follow through with his promise. He always did. I was already falling apart and he hadn’t even touched me properly yet.

I felt his hand trail down the curve of my hip, slow and deliberate, fingers hooking under the waistband of my panties. The lace dragged across my skin, and I lifted my hips instinctively, letting him slide them down.

He didn’t rush.

He kissed the inside of my thigh as he pulled them off completely, then balled the lace in his fist and looked me right in the eyes with a smirk that made my stomach clench.

Without saying a word, he shoved the panties into the pocket of his suit trousers.

My eyes widened. “Harry…”

He rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine as he led me slowly to the bed. In just a few steps, we were on the bed, Harry’s body pressing over mine in one fluid motion.

He touched me with such familiarity. He knew my body like no other, perhaps more than myself.

Tender. Rough. Delicate. Heavy.

He kissed down my chest, my torso, my thighs, and stopped at my center.

“Please… open your legs for me, Mrs. Styles.”

I moan almost immediately in response. I didn’t expect that. It felt so good.

Mrs. Styles.

I open my legs at a timid pace, never being able to kick that initial shyness. I think it’s because I loved the way he worked to draw me out of it.

He grins at my shyness, never kicking the thrill he gets from that.

His fingers trail lightly down the inside of my thigh, warm and steady, never rushing. He doesn’t push—he never does. Instead, he waits, kneeling between my knees with patience written all over his face.

I exhale shakily, biting the inside of my cheek.

He leans in and kisses the bend of my knee, soft and slow. Then the inside of my thigh.

He whispers something I barely catch, “You’re so beautiful like this.”

His hands slide up again, coaxing gently, his thumbs brushing the delicate edge of my hesitation.

And then I do it—not all at once, not without nerves—but I let my legs fall a little wider.

His smile is reverent, not smug. Like I’ve given him something sacred.

“Mmh,” I hear him moan at the sight of me.

His gaze lingers between my thighs like it’s something sacred, something he’s been waiting for, but never entitled to. The weight of it makes me shiver.

“You don’t know what that does to me,” he says, voice low and rough now. His hands settle on my inner thighs, thumbs tracing idle circles like he’s memorizing me.

I swallow hard. “Show me, baby.”

He leans forward and presses a kiss right at the top of my thigh, so close I twitch. He notices.

“Still shy,” he whispers against my skin. “Still fucking sexy.”

Then he moves lower—mouth dragging lazy, open-mouthed kisses until he’s exactly where I want him. He doesn’t dive in. He waits. One hand stays on my thigh, grounding me. The other parts me even further with slow, practiced care.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, breath warm and maddening.

“It’s not,” I whisper. “It’s not enough.”

That’s all he needs.

His tongue slides through me with devastating precision, and my hips jump despite myself. I try to close my legs again—out of instinct, out of habit—but his hands catch me gently, holding me open.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “Don’t hide from me. Not tonight.”

And something in me gives.

The shyness doesn’t vanish—but it melts into something else. Something hotter. He licks me again, slower this time, like he’s savoring me. I moan—quiet, breathless—and his grip tightens just slightly.

“That’s it,” he says against me.

His mouth is relentless, but never careless. Every stroke of his tongue is deliberate, tasting me like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. I can feel how much he wants me in the way he holds me open, the way his hands tremble just slightly against my thighs.

My breath catches as he sucks gently at that spot that makes my legs shake, and I gasp—louder than I expect. Embarrassment rises fast, but he pulls back just enough to look up at me.

“Don’t hold it in,” he murmurs, lips slick. “I want all of it—all of you.”

I reach down, threading my fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to tell him I need more. He smiles into me, groans low in his throat like my need is its own kind of reward.

But then he pulls back entirely.

He lines himself up, moving slowly, carefully—like he knows I’ll tense if he rushes. The stretch is real, thick and hot, and my breath hitches again as he starts to push in.

He groans—deep, guttural—like the feel of me around him might undo him on the spot. “So fucking tight,” he breathes. “Oh fuck.”

I can’t help the way my fingers clutch at his arms, digging in as he rocks forward another inch. He pauses, kisses my cheek, my jaw, the corner of my mouth.

When he bottoms out, we both just stay there—breathing each other in. He doesn’t move yet. He just lets me feel it, lets me adjust.

Then he starts to roll his hips, slow and deep, dragging pleasure out like a secret.

Every stroke pushes me open a little more. Every sound he makes coaxes another one from me. My shyness doesn’t vanish, but it no longer feels like something to fight. It’s just part of how he loves me—patiently, reverently, and with everything he’s got.

“Mmm,” I moan, fingers digging into his shoulders, “you feel so good.”

His eyes flick up to mine, like those words land harder than anything else. Like that simple truth is the thing that undoes him more than the heat, the moans, the friction.

“Yeah?” he breathes, his voice ragged.

I nod before pulling him to me and kiss him hard—needy, unfiltered—because there’s no room for pretending right now. He’s deep inside me, filling me completely, and I want him to know exactly how wrecked I am by it.

“You’re so good to me,” I whisper between kisses. “So fucking good, you don’t even know.”

His rhythm falters slightly, and I feel it—how much the words hit him. Not just the praise, but the truth of it.

He swallows hard. “Say it again.”

I hold his face in both hands, gaze steady despite the way my body’s shaking. “You’re good to me. You make me feel wanted. Safe. Insatiable.”

That last word comes out on a gasp as he thrusts deeper—rougher now, like I’ve lit a match inside him. His mouth crashes into mine again, desperate and messy and full of everything we haven’t said.

He’s already buried deep inside me, sweat slick at the base of his neck, breath hot against my collarbone. The rhythm is steady, controlled—but there’s tension beneath it, like he’s holding himself back.

I smile through the haze, tilting my hips up to meet him. “You fuck me like you’re made for me.”

“I am made for you, baby.”

His head drops against my shoulder, and I feel his entire body shudder. He groans—loud, needy—and then it’s like something inside him snaps.

He pulls back, just enough to look at me. His gaze is dark, intense, almost reverent.

I open my mouth to speak, but he moves before I can—grabs my thighs and pushes them up, deeper, tighter, until I gasp. His thrusts change, no longer slow or careful—they’re full, purposeful, desperate in the most delicious way.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice thick. “You love this? You love how crazy you make me?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes.”

He moans again—louder this time, rough around the edges—and he leans down, kissing me like he’s trying to climb inside me. His hips slam forward and I cry out, the pleasure rolling through me in waves.

I claw at his back, pulling him closer, dizzy from how good he feels. “Don’t stop. You’re making me—fuck—you’re making me feel…everything.”

His mouth finds my ear, and he groans right into it. “You should feel everything. You deserve that. I want you ruined by me—shaking and wrecked and knowing no one else could ever touch you like this.”

He’s still inside me when I shift, slowly, carefully. His hands instinctively guide me as I straddle him, knees braced on either side of his hips. We both groan at the change in angle, at the way it feels different like this—deeper in some places, more exposed in others.

His eyes drag over me, wild and reverent. “Holy fuck,” he breathes, chest heaving beneath me. “Look at you.”

I still wore my lace veil and bra.

I roll my hips slowly, testing, teasing, and his head falls back against the pillow with a choked moan. But it’s not just the pleasure that has him undone—it’s the sight of me.

He trails his fingers up my ribs, slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of me. His eyes have been locked on it for minutes now, distracted by the way it clings to me, how the fabric stretches over my curves.

He sits up, both hands now at my back, unclasping it with practiced ease—but he doesn’t rush. He holds the band for a moment, breath ghosting over my skin. Then, gently, he slides the straps down my arms, one at a time, eyes flicking up to my face to make sure I’m okay.

I am. More than okay.

The lace slips away like a whisper, soft against my skin, and he exhales sharply when my breasts are finally bare before him.

“You’re unreal,” he says, sitting up on one elbow, the other hand running up my stomach to cup my breast.

I arch into his palm instinctively.

Then he leans in—slow, deliberate—and kisses the swell of one breast, then the other. Soft, open-mouthed kisses that make me gasp and roll my hips again. He groans against my skin, like the feel of me is something he can’t quite handle.

His hands come up to cup both breasts fully, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I feel myself pulse around him from the sensation.

“You don’t know what this does to me,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he rubs his cheek against my chest, nuzzling me like he’s half-drunk on the feeling of skin against skin.

I cradle his head, fingers threading through his hair as he mouths at my nipple, sucking gently, then swirling his tongue over it again and again until my thighs start to shake.

I rock my hips slower now, keeping us both on that edge, and he swears under his breath again. His hands trail down to my hips, guiding my pace but never controlling it—letting me lead, letting me take him.

“I love watching you fall apart,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss his temple.

“Evil girl,” he grins before pulling me in for a kiss.

His hands grip my hips as I move over him, slow but steady, our rhythm deepening with every roll. The way he looks up at me—like I’m the most sacred thing he’s ever touched—only pushes me closer. His lips are still warm from where he’d been sucking on my breasts, now parted and panting, trying to hold back the storm building inside him.

“Just like that,” he groans, voice rough and reverent. “Don’t stop, baby—don’t stop.”

His hands slide up my back, then down again, like he needs to feel all of me—needs to anchor himself in the moment.

“Fuck,” he gasps, eyes locked on where our bodies are joined.

The tension between us sharpens, electric. Every movement, every breath is laced with need. His hips start meeting mine on instinct, thrusting up into me just right, just deep enough to make stars explode behind my eyes.

He’s still catching his breath beneath me, hands roaming up and down my thighs like he can’t stop touching me. But then he sits up, kisses me deeply, and murmurs against my lips, “I need you underneath me now.”

The way he says it — low, reverent — makes something pulse deep inside me.

He flips us gently, careful not to break the connection for more than a second, and settles between my legs.

His body covers mine completely, chest pressing against my breasts, his forearms braced on either side of my head. His hips nestle against mine, and when he slides back in — slow, deliberate — we both let out the kind of sound that comes from deep within.

His hips roll into mine with perfect rhythm — deep and slow, dragging pleasure out of both of us with every thrust. He kisses me through it, moaning into my mouth like the feel of me is driving him mad.

“Look at me,” I whisper, cupping his face.

His eyes meet mine instantly, glassy and dark, like he’s barely hanging on. He moans almost immediately.

His forehead drops to mine, and he starts to move faster, harder, chasing that last stretch of friction. Our breaths tangle, our bodies tense, and I feel it — the breaking point — approaching fast.

“I’m right there,” I gasp, nails digging into his back.

“Me too. Fuck, baby—me too,” he moans, driving into me with just enough roughness to tip me over the edge.

Pleasure crashes through me in waves, pulling a cry from my throat as I clench around him. He follows instantly, groaning my name as he spills inside me, his whole body shuddering against mine.

He’s still inside me, his weight more comforting rather than heavy, his chest rising and falling against mine.

His mouth finds my neck first — slow, open kisses that make me melt even more. Then my jaw. Then the curve of my cheek.

“You okay?” he whispers, his voice low, careful.

“Mhmm,” I manage to say.

He kisses the top of my shoulder, then the spot just above my heart, then the length of my collarbone like he’s trying to press pieces of himself into me.

I could only guess how undone I looked in that moment.

I couldn’t stop the blush that rose as it hit me all over again — Harry is my husband. And I’m his wife.

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