#( ᴍɪɴɪ sᴇʀɪᴇs ; ᴘᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛᴡᴏ )

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: a/b/o dynamics subtly -read, poorly, hinted at by writer, use of pet names ( little one, pretty little thing, etc) and swearing. this part is tame and it's just to set the scene for the next, the disclaimer is here because it's a/b/o and some people lose their goddamn mind when they stumble across this type of thing in the tags.. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt seventeen - a/b/o ( told in two parts )

character | fandom - alpha!werewolf!eddie munson | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, omega & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 900

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you're chased through the woods by jason carver, an alpha from a rogue pack after you're caught out just as you're about to go into heat. the chase leads you straight to the doorstep of your true alpha, town loner Eddie Munson, aka the alpha with no pack..✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

There's something in the air that has every cell in his body on edge as he stands in the doorway of the abandoned cabin he calls home now. Eddie Munson watches the storm as it rolls in, thick fog settles in a hazy blanket just above the forest floor.

He can just barely see the lights of town in the distance and a glance skyward to watch as the moon peeks through thick clouds has him tensed up.

The air smells like rain..at first. But then, the mouth-watering scent of caramel edges in.

He's been catching faint hints of the same scent on the breeze all damn day and before he can stop himself, he feels the painful prick of fangs, threatening to pierce his gums. A howl rips from his throat as the wind picks up, fanning that sweet scent and the scent of earthy rain straight for him. It lingers, heavy. Inviting.

He breathes in deep.

Mate. Find her. Find her now. - it's the urgent cry from the animal trapped and buried within. It's a plea that Eddie Munson does his best to ignore for the fifth time in a day, but as he turns, every intention of going back inside the cabin, he's bowled over by the sweet scent. She's closer. Danger! Go to her. - it's the final outcry of the animal within before everything happens all at once.

You come crashing through the treeline and the storm that's been holding back all day finally kicks off. That asshole Carver, the future Alpha, he's hot on your tail. He's taunting you, laughing like a maniac as he tells you that him chasing you down is your own fault and you need to relax, let nature take its course.

Eddie normally stays far away from the business of everyone in town but this time, a red cloud of rage blinds him and before he knows he's doing it, he's dove from the porch of the abandoned cabin he calls home. He places himself between you and Jason Carver, arms folded over his chest as he towers over Jason at his full height.

❝ Get fucked, Carver. This sweet little thing is mine.❞

You look up at Eddie from the spot you've landed on the ground after tripping over a tree stump you failed to see in your haste to put some distance between yourself and the unwanted advances of Jason, the single most obnoxious Alpha asshole you'll ever encounter. 

Is he my true Alpha? - you're staring up at the handsome loner in awe as the temperature of your body raises and dizziness settles in for you.

You're in heat. You never should've left your safe haven but all day long you've felt this pull to the forest. To a scent that keeps finding you on the breeze. The scent is stronger now, and you swallow hard as soon as your daze clears enough to realize that it's the handsome loner in front of you. 

It has to be.

Eddie growls at Jason, the sound more animal than human and a clear warning for Jason to get lost.

❝ Take the bitch, man..❞ Jason smirks, ❝ She’s not good enough for me anyway. ❞

Jason makes a hasty retreat and Eddie kneels down next to you. Rough hands circle your ankle, the touch seems to cool down the raging fire in your veins but only a little. After he surveys your swollen ankle quietly, big brown eyes fix on you. ❝ You shouldn't be out by yourself, doll..❞

❝ I was trying to find you.❞ you mutter in response, dazed as you stare up at him through a curtain of hair. Eddie pulls himself off the wet ground and then he's hauling you up, it's rough but he doesn't mean to be. ❝ Yeah, well..❞ he answers quietly, ❝ Its dangerous, sweetheart..❞ he's carrying you over the threshold of the cabin, pausing to back against the door to close it so he doesn't have to put you down. ❝ You’re lucky I saw Carver chasin' after you.❞

❝ Yeah.❞ you murmur, exhausted from the running you've just done and on top of it, starting your heat cycle. You bury your nose in his neck and breathe in the scent of him because it's just about the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment. 

Eddie carries you into the bedroom at the back of the cabin and he lays you down in his bed gently, muttering to himself that maybe just being surrounded by his scent will help.

But you don't want him to leave you, not like this, all alone in your weakened state in a cabin.

❝ Sweetheart, much as I'd love t' stay, that's not gonna keep our stomachs full. I'll come back.❞ Eddie grips your jaw to make you look up at him, ❝ You’re safe. Nobody ever comes out here, sweetheart. And I'll be gone ten minutes, tops. Just going to check a trap.❞

You are hungry, your stomach growls on cue. He grabs a crossbow and a quiver full of handmade arrows and after pausing at his bed to tuck blankets cloaked in the essence of him around your curvy little body tightly, he's gone.

Then the fever takes over again for a little while and you doze off, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep...

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: unprotected p in v sexual contact, biting, the use of petnames, charlie's virginity kink, the mental replay of rory culkin's little moans, slightly dominant!charlie. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt four - virginity

character | fandom - charlie walker | scream movie franchise

reader | original character - female reader, girlfriend & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 1.8 k

tagging - &lt; taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . a movie date turned sexual. you get your cherry popped on your parent's couch during a paused psycho by Charlie Walker..✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆. ───

You and Charlie have been dating almost 7 months and if not for one little, itsy-bitsy, teeny tiny problem, everything would be absolutely perfect.

That problem? Not once. Not a single time has Charlie Walker done anything, he hasn’t made any attempt at all to initiate a sexual encounter. And this would normally be a relief for you if it weren’t so goddamn frustrating. If you weren’t 100% ready to give yourself to him.

You’ve run out of subtle ways to clue him in. And according to the girls, maybe subtle and Charlie don’t exactly mix.

Your lips purse as you stare at him, determination to get what you want, making your eyes gleam and dance. You’re staring at him so hard, practically willing him to take his eyes off the goddamn horror movie he put in almost an hour ago. So far, the staring hasn’t done any real good.

In the midst of your latest round of frustrated staring, Charlie’s eyes leave the television set in front of you in your living room and he clears his throat. ❝ Something wrong? ❞ he asks as baby blue eyes flit over your body, taking in the way you keep shifting and squirming in place beside him. You’ve been doing it the whole movie, he’s been well-aware.

Almost as aware as he's also been of this thick tension in the air between you lately. Or the way you're becoming a lot more openly affectionate. Or the way you didn't exactly stop him from slipping his hand beneath the silky soft cup of your bra earlier and you let him cop a feel. Or ten. The memory prompts a cough and he can feel himself getting hard all over again.

❝ I..❞ you stammer and after a second, ❝ Forget it..❞ is mumbled before you go completely silent. But it’s too late for a back-track and now, your  boyfriend is curious. He reaches out, slender hand and long fingers circle the remote and seconds later, the movie is paused. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose. ❝ No. Just say whatever you were about to say.❞

❝ Okay, fine. You asked for it. ❞ - you mutter quietly. Charlie’s brow raises as you move from the spot beside him on the sofa to straddling his lap. Charlie’s breath hangs in his throat and his heart is racing. He glances up at you,  ❝ What’s gotten into you tonight?❞ he asks, his words accompanied by a whine that slips out as you clumsily squirm around in his lap for comfort and he can feel his cock twitch, pushing against the fly of baggy jeans with need as he gets even harder, the ache as it settles within, it makes him want to peel off his own skin.

Or your clothes and his to bury himself deep inside you, fucking you until you're so dumb from it that the only name you remember is his.

❝ I want–❞ the breathless sound of your soft voice against the shell of his ear has him burning up, as if someone's pumped out all his blood, replaced it with gasoline and they've just lit a match. ❝ C'mon, ❞ he coaxes, voice husky, velvet and gravel against the shell of your ear as he clumsily tries to adjust himself but winds up rubbing against you instead, pushing you to your brink. Your needy whine at the way his cock grazes right against dripping hot sex as it throbs, desperate to be filled, the sound ignites something within the quiet boy and suddenly, he understands.

A chuckle, dark and dangerous, slips past his lips and as he gazes at you intently. ❝ Tell me what you want. Tell me, pretty girl.❞ he groans as you re-center, your cunt against the bulge prominent below his fly, his thin fingers clasping at the meat of your ass as he bucks himself up into you and luscious lips find the shell of your ear, ❝ Is my beautiful, sweet, ❞ he growls out, his lips against your soft skin as he leaves a line of bites and bruises behind and bucks himself up into you even harder; faster like he's in a frenzy,  ❝ girl finally ready to be fucked?❞ - the vulgarity in his words are a contrast with the slight waver of his voice as he tries to wrap his head around what might finally be about to happen. 

His hand skims over your curvature and the other one really squeezes your ass, using the firm grip he has on your warm little body to pull you back and forth over his clothed bulge as he forgets himself - and Psycho, in favor of rutting himself up into you, eyes wild and hungry when they lock with yours. The intensity of his stare pins you. 

❝ I asked you a question, pretty girl.❞ he repeats, the waver in his voice again serving as the most frustrating foil to his calm air of dominance. He grabs you by the ass harder, this makes you bear your weight down against his lap. His head falls back against the sofa as a series of groans - and the begging and needy whines, shatter silence. ❝ – ah! I need to-❞ he practically growls against the shell of your ear as he comes alive beneath you and his hands just won't stay still a second longer, ❝ I need to hear you say it, c'mon.. say it, pretty girl.❞

❝ Charlie!❞ you whine in need, the pace in which you're rocking yourself back and forth over him making you ache, burn. ❝ I need..❞ your lips dance down his hot neck after you've nosed light brown hair out of your way, ❝ I want you soooo bad.❞

❝ You want me, huh? ❞ he is dazed. On autopilot. But he's not so dazed that he forgets to ask the question he's been dying to since your first ever heated closet makeout, the one where you stopped him just when things were really starting to heat up. ❝ Are you tired of being a virgin, pretty girl?❞

Your gasped answer, a quiet ❝ Y-yeah.❞ against his pulse ignites something within the quieter boy, it's as if the second he realizes he's going to be the one to ruin you for all the other boys, he's determined to do exactly that.

❝ Fuck.❞ he groans quietly as you whimper and whine and beg for his cock. ❝ Easy. Whoa.❞ he groans out as his hand slips between your thighs, settling palm down against your needy, soaked sex. He locks eyes with you but his eyes aren't the same as usual, pupils blown with lust and the baby blue a darker navy. You’re pushed flat against the sofa in your parents living room and Charlie settles his lanky frame between your thighs as you reach up for the button on his jeans, your hand shaky because you're nervous. What if I'm not any good? What if I can't take all of him? - you struggle with your own insecurity for at least a minute, but ultimately, the need you feel outweighs everything else. ❝ I- I might not be any good.❞ you stammer against his neck, Charlie’s husky laugh warm against your skin.

 His hand curls over your own, it engulfs it, and he plies your hand away, pinning it beside your head and against the stupid beige throw pillow beneath your head as he gazes at you in adoration. ❝ Aht aht.❞ he scolds, ❝ I've been waiting for this. I'm in control here, angel.❞ - and he's not kidding, either. 7 months of patience has finally paid off. ❝ You’re sure, yeah?❞  he questions, patiently waiting on the nod you give in haste not even a second later. 

As his free hand pulls off your panties, they're slid down your leg to settle against dark, weathered boards. He sucks in a sharp breath as soon as he feels the warmth and the wet of your juices as they coat his palm. When he squeezes, you whine, the sound like music to his ears as thin fingers slip deep into your cunt two at a time. 

The feeling is new, there's a delicious burn that has you tense at first. He explains that he has to get you ready and you moan out that you've been ready, that letting him fuck you is all you can really think about lately only to be shushed by his tongue slipped between your lips as it takes dominance over your own, clumsy but enthusiastic. His fingers prod and swirl deep inside you, probing at the soft and spongy warmth of a spot deep within that has you going wild beneath him as his fingers find the spot. Over and over, relentless.

He slips in another finger and the burn is back as you are stretched just a little more, thrusting the same as his hips as he ruts himself against your thigh and growls against the shell of your ear and the racing pulse down your neck. ❝ Oh f-fuck.❞ he groans, ❝ this is gonna feel so good, pretty girl. I promise.❞

He pulls himself up, fingers plucked free from deep inside you to pass between his lips as he licks them clean and groans at the taste of you in his mouth. 

He unzips with hands that shake ever so slightly in excitement, his jeans fall to his knees, followed by black boxers,  stripped away with quickness. His thick cock springs free, pink tipped and glistening with pre cum as you stare with wide eyes. ❝ Relax.❞ he coaxes as he lowers himself down and settles down into you, ❝ I'm gonna take care of you, pretty girl. You're mine now,understood?❞ his mouth latches against your neck as his cock sinks into you, each deliberate thrust making you whimper and whine, begging for more.

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: casual sex with a stranger, one night stands, penetrative/unprotected p in v, oral sex, marking, handjobs/fingering, some dirty talk & the use of petnames. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt nine - anonymous sex

character | fandom - rockstar!eddie munson | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, one night stand /college coed & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 4.9k

tagging - &lt; taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . Eddie Munson is only passing through with his band. He plays a show at your favorite dive bar and the two of you hit it off, spending a sex-fuelled weekend together... ( Pt 1 of 2, possible series later )✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Cleveland, Ohio, 1988

❝ This is a bad idea, Taylor.❞ - the local dive bar 3 blocks away from your college campus is ten times as crowded as it normally is. Up towards the front of the small bar, a makeshift stage is being set up and about the third or fourth time someone bumps into you and spills some booze heavy bastardization of a mixed drink down the front of your favorite shirt, you’re seriously tempted to find the nearest exit, a promise is a promise but to be fair, you didn’t realize that live music would draw more people in.

Especially live music from a band that literally nobody’s ever heard of before.

Taylor grabs you by the wrist and she’s pointing to the makeshift stage excitedly. To the drummer, to be exact. You laugh softly because now it makes perfect sense why she dragged you out tonight.

❝ He’s hot, right?❞ she asks. You laugh softly and take a sip of the drink she’s offering you and as you drag the back of your hand over your mouth, you see him.

He’s every bit of 6’2.. At least. The black jeans he’s wearing are so tight you ponder for a few good seconds as to whether they’re painted on and alternately, how the guy’s even breathing okay. 

Your tongue drags over your bottom lip as your eyes linger just a little too long to be decent on the outline standing out against the zipper of his jeans. You actually whine, you don’t realize you have until Taylor starts to laugh softly, watching you as she takes a few sips from the drink after she’s taken it back from you. 

Your entire face feels hot and honestly, you’re not sure whether it’s the booze you’ve barely consumed, the fact that the man you’re currently eye-fucking is apparently hung, if outlines are anything to go by and he’s certainly the most gorgeous example of the male species your eyes have ever set sights on.. 

After you finally manage to tear your eyes off of his lower body, as they drift upwards and you see the defined V of his abdomen -plus a few gnarly scars and a tattoo or two that look pretty recent- peeking out from below the bottom of his cropped black muscle shirt, you gulp. It’s a pathetic attempt to swallow down the lump that’s built in your throat at the sight of this man and also, a pathetic attempt to get your brain unfrozen, get yourself centered and focused again.

And breathing properly, there’s that, of course.

Taylor is standing back, watching you. She’s amused because she’s never seen you this dazed. Especially not over some bad-boy rocker. Preppy law student types, those are all you seem to date.

And it never really works out, she thinks to herself as she continues to watch you as you fuck Mr. Tall, Dark Clothes and Broody Handsome as he sets up for the show, tuning his guitar. Gee, I wonder why. Maybe the preppy law students she’s always hooking up with aren’t actually her type. 

By now, your eyes are drifting to his hands. The way long and thin fingers pluck sound out of a Warlock guitar. You’re doing it again, biting down on your bottom lip, which is now accompanied by your thighs clamped tight yet somehow, still they manage to slip and slide off of each other. Taylor clears her throat just as you finally manage to tear your eyes off his hands and the way he plays his guitar and look at his actual face, locking eyes with him.

He’s staring right back. Hard. When he catches you staring, dead to rights, his cheeks darken just a little and he swallows hard, teeth plucking at a very kissable bottom lip as he grins from ear to ear.

There’s something very familiar about him despite the fact that you know for sure you’ve never met him a single time in your entire life. You know it, there’s no way in hell you would’ve forgotten the man if you had met.

He gives this little wave and you want to dissolve into the floor of the bar. Taylor has gone from laughing a little bit to full-on, doubled over laughing. ❝ Girl.. The look on your face right now...❞ she shrugs off the dirty look you give her as you reach for the cup in her hand and shotgun about a third of the mixed drink left inside of it. 

The watered down 80 proof still manages to burn from your throat down to the pit of your stomach and you grimace because you’re not really a drinker by any stretch so the sips you’ve taken so far have the tips of your ears on fire.

❝ Oh hush.. He’s.. He’s gorgeous, alright? And I swear to God, I’ve seen him before...❞ you’re biting your thumb as you try to puzzle out whether it’s just him in general that feels so familiar -and why, or whether it’s just the fact that you’re a little tipsy now and he looks like an old god or a breathing work of art.

Taylor shrugs. ❝ They’re not from around here.. According to Nick, they’re from some little pissant town.. Uh.. It’s in Indiana.❞ she rubs her forehead as she tries to remember what the owner of the bar was telling her about the band he’d invited to stop in and play an impromptu live show. She grins. ❝ Hawkins! It’s Hawkins, that’s the town they’re from.. You moved around a lot when you were a kid.. Ever heard of the place?❞

You mull it over. The second it hits you, you laugh and nod. ❝ My grandma lived there. I think we visited her a time or two but we were never in town for long or anything.. Definitely not long enough for me to meet and forget that man up there...❞

❝ I call dibs on the drummer..❞ Taylor butts in and you laugh, shrugging. Swallowing hard as you just happen to glance up at the makeshift stage to find the black clad lead singer watching you. A heat spreads throughout your entire body as the two of you lock eyes. He smirks again, giving you a bold little wink. You give him a sassy wave.

❝ The drummer is all yours, girl. If I had t’ call dibs on anybody, I think it’s gonna be him. He’s as tall as a goddamn tree and I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t willingly die to climb him.❞

Taylor snorts in laughter. She writes it off to the mixed drink you’ve been slamming back since the two of you finally managed to get into the bar because normally, you’re real quiet. Real sweet but also, real reserved. You don’t really let loose a whole lot, this is a huge reason why she decided she was dragging you out to the show tonight, hell or high water.

You needed tonight. She definitely needed tonight. Some live music, a few drinks and a chance to relax, no studying or other adult adjacent bullshit on the horizon until around Tuesday.

❝ What’s so funny? I was being completely serious.❞ you ask, giggling as you reach for the cup again, a pout promptly forming just as soon as you realized that the cup was just about empty. Taylor offers it to you and you take it, finishing off the drink.

Your eyes settle on the makeshift stage all over again just as the lights in the bar go dim. And as soon as you hear that they’re opening with a lesser-known Black Sabbath song, you’re one thousand and one percent sure of it, as sure as each breath you’re taking.

You’re fucked when it comes to this guy. Absolutely fucked. Because he’s the antithesis to your typical type and yet, he had you dripping with just a stolen look or two. And sure, you could lie to yourself and pretend that the reason is simply that you haven’t gotten laid lately. But you know you’d be lying.

This cannot be the trait I share in common with my ma. It can’t! I mean, is it the same as her thing with small time wrestlers, minor league hockey and baseball players though? Oh god, you’re gaping in horror as soon as the thought fully forms and panic sets in as a result, I’m turning into my ma.. Only with bad boy metal musicians.

Regardless of the internal panic, you find yourself humming along, drumming the top of the bar along with Corroded Coffin’s cover of Luke’s Wall.

Taylor’s giggling, stumbling through the lyrics right along with you and at one point, during a pretty high-energy cover of Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin, you lock eyes with the lead singer and he’s staring right back at you. Hard.

The band moves on to a slower ballad after an intro from Mr. Lead Singer that has you giggling and gasping just a little in the same breath because he looks right at you, offering only a shrug and a playful wink, ❝ Bare with us. I normally hate this shit, but..❞ you can feel that slow burning heat rise up from deep within all over again as you instantly recognize the opening part of Poison’s newest release, Every Rose Has It’s Thorn.. Which ironically, is what you’d been telling Taylor it’d be neat to hear them play. She’d been heckling you for the better part of an hour since, trying to get you to shout out the name of the song.

He chuckles as he abandons the stool he’d been sitting on for two songs now and he wanders over, sitting down on the makeshift stage right in front of you. As he smirks at you, you nearly choke on air. He speaks up, addressing the crowd again as the rest of his band continues to provide track backing, ❝ There’s this girl. She’s kinda hot and she apparently likes this glam rock bullshit, so.. We wanna make our girl happy, right?❞

As he sings the slower song to you, you’re squirming in place, thighs so wet they slip off each other even easier than they have been all night already. He’s smirking, you know your face is on fire, you don’t need a mirror to see it, you can feel it in your cheeks, all the way to the tips of your ears. Even your scalp feels a little hot.

He leans in real close when he delivers the last lyric. ❝ Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song..Every rose has its thorn.❞

That has you biting back a helpless whine before you can stop it. Because his voice is a whole other level of velvet, gravel and sex combined perfectly. You can feel it in your bones, you’re never going to hear this song on the radio again without hearing the mysterious lead singer of this little unknown band singing it dangerously close to your face, nearly nose to nose.

He was close enough as he sang to you one on one that you could smell the stench of cigarettes on his breath, mixed with cheap beer and cheap cologne. Maybe a hint of sweaty musk layered underneath. It’s a smell you have the feeling will haunt your dreams long after the show is over and his band has rolled out of Cleveland, onto their next stop of God knows where.

The second the band takes a little smoke break, Taylor’s decided that one way or another, she’s going to at least casually bump into her drummer and say hey. You want to do the same but truth be told, you’re not even a little bit Taylor’s level of brave. So you’re wandering back over to the bar to get yourself a new drink and as you stand elbow to elbow with other people waiting to be served drinks, you feel the exact second someone pushes up into you from behind, a hand resting at the small of your back and somehow, without looking over your shoulder, you know it’s him.

The metal rings on his hand feel cool, smooth and heavy against your heated skin. You swallow hard as your brain immediately forgets how to properly function but you do manage to at least turn so that you’re facing him, staring up at him quietly with your head cocked to the side.

You just thought he was tall up on the little makeshift stage. He towers over you up close and personal. The thought prompts slurring giggles, you’re pretty tipsy at this point. Maybe that’s how you end up grabbing hold of the front of his t-shirt to sort of hold yourself upright when a group of assholes shoves around the two of you and throws your balance off.

His hand settles more firmly against the small of your back and you’re pulled against him a little closer. Eddie’s nose fills with the sweet scent of your perfume and he bites back a groan. Gareth wouldn’t shut the fuck up about him at least introducing himself to you, he came over here with a half-assed plan to do that, figuring that he wouldn’t even get the shot. Now you’re melting against him, looking up at him with those big and pretty eyes of yours as you pop little bubbles with a piece of gum you’re chewing. 

❝ Hey..❞ you both blurt it out simultaneously, sharing a laugh right after, ❝ My name’s Eddie.. Uh, Eddie Munson..❞ he introduces himself. You repeat his name and if he thought he was harder than concrete when you were catapulted into him just seconds before, it’s nothing compared to the way his name rolls off your pretty little lips the way it does. Soft and sultry. Dazed as you stare up at him. He chuckles. Drags a hand through sweaty brown frizz, his curls have given up the fight in the heat of the stage lighting and the crowded bar. His fingertips dig against the small of your back when you manage to just barely rub against him because you’re swaying just a little. ❝ I’m __.❞ you introduce yourself and as soon as you’ve told him your name, he’s throttled all the way back into the first month of 6th grade.

Right after he hit Hawkins to live with his uncle Wayne permanently. You moved to town the week right after and for whatever reason, the two of you just clicked. He’d been wondering what happened to you lately.. 

She doesn’t remember you, man. Don’t bring it up. It’ll fuck up everything. It’s better this way. His mind taunts him with it. You’re staring at him intently, lost in thought. Trying to figure out why you feel as if you should know him, that you’ve somehow met before and yet, the more you try to determine where, the more your mind seems to draw complete blanks.

He chuckles quietly. ❝ It’s nice t’ meet you, __. I think I’m gonna help you back t’ your seat, if that’s alright? Kinda looks like you’re havin a little trouble.❞ he nods to the way you’re swaying as you attempt to stand still and smiles at you. 

And given the fact that you’ll do anything to feel his hand on your body again, you nod. Laugh as you pop a bubble with your gum. ❝ I don’t always do this. But yeah. I’m just a little bit tipsy.❞

He snickers. Promptly followed by a gulp or two when you melt into him dramatically, your forehead in the front of his t-shirt. He slips an arm around you and as soon as he spots your best friend chatting up his drummer, he gives Gareth just the slightest ‘I told you so’ smirk because Gareth had been wanting to talk to your friend all night, he just kept talking himself right out of going for it.

You’re settled on a stool in front of the stage and Taylor makes her way back over to you as the band begins to set up to continue the show. The rest of the night goes by in a fun blur, you’re at least 80 percent sobered up by the time they play  the last song of the night and sadly, you and Taylor are making your way out the door, assuming that you won’t see either man again.

Neither of you realize just how untrue this is going to prove to be until about five minutes later.

Eddie spots you and your friend as the two of you make your way past, laughing with your arms around each other. Moderately sober but still slurring your words and swaying just a little as you pass by. Eddie and Gareth share a look but neither were planning to do anything until Grant speaks up.

❝ Will you two idiots just fucking go? At least see if they’re gonna be okay t’ get home. Our flight out isn’t until 10 am on Monday.❞

Jeff chuckles, glancing from Gareth to Eddie. ❝ Go! Stop standin around here with your thumbs up your asses! I’ve got a hot phone date with the missus and all Grant’s gonna do is watch shitty hotel porn..❞

❝ Fuck you, Jeff!❞ Grant flips off his friend/bandmate and the two share a laugh. Gareth and Eddie share a look and then suddenly, they’re both running. Shoving through a crowd of late-nighters as they make their way out of all the bars that have just given the 2 am last call.

They spot the two of you before you both duck into the diner you usually stop in after a long night at the bar and they clear their throats from behind the two of you.

You and Taylor share a look before turning around, quick enough that you find yourselves body to body with Eddie and Gareth.

❝ Hey.❞ you mumble softly. He chuckles. Bites his lip as he steps up into you even closer, a hand migrating straight to your hip and gently flexing. ❝ Hey.. Where are you two headin? We uh..❞ Eddie stammers, at a loss for words temporarily. It’s Gareth that speaks up after a few seconds of staring at Taylor, ❝ It’s downtown Cleveland.. Pretty sure neither of you should be walkin back all by yourselves…We thought we’d walk with you, right Munson? Earth to Eddie..❞

He’s using the fact that Eddie’s all sorts of dazed, blitzed by you at the moment to poke fun and be a little shit. He can see Eddie’s eyes flash angrily and he chuckles. Eddie mouths that he’s gonna kick the piss out of him later and Gareth merely shrugs. As this is happening, you and Taylor have kind of backed away and you’re talking amongst each other about letting the two men walk you home.

❝ They’re not wrong, _. This place does get crazy around 3 am and it is two entire blocks back to the apartment.. Besides,❞ Taylor points out, ❝ We need to live a little. It’ll be fine.❞

You’re staring a hole through Eddie Munson. And you smile, nodding in agreement when she makes her point. ❝ We’re totally safe.❞ you observe quietly, eyes glued to Eddie Munson. Taylor laughs and nods. ❝ It’s not like this happens all the time and damn it, I wanna have this experience to look back on one day and cherish..❞

The four of you set off in the direction of your edge of campus apartment building, a steady conversation the whole way there.

Everything feels right. Natural. Like you’re exactly where you need to be in this moment.

You’re even a little excited.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･ ｡ﾟ ───

Bits and pieces of the night before - your bodies tangled together, his head buried between your thighs, the way it tasted when you let him cum in your mouth.. Or the way he held onto your hips while he was fucking you deep and slow, that all comes floating back as you roll away from harsh sunlight. Instead of your second pillow, your head settles against hardness and warmth. Your eyes pop open and as soon as you see Eddie lying there, his mouth open and snoring lightly, you’re wide awake. Trying to remember everything.

Ultimately, you give up and curl into him, slipping your legs between his as you go back to sleep. You’re just happy the night before wasn’t a dream and it really happened and Eddie Munson is asleep in your bed in the light of day. 

Eddie’s starting to wake up. At first, he’s content to lie there and watch you sleeping, but there’s only so long he can do that and a few minutes later, when you’ve rolled onto your back again, he decides that he’s going to try waking you up.

Rough lips latch against your neck as he settles himself down into you, soft kisses against your warm skin as he bucks himself against you. He knows exactly what he wants right now. He wants to be inside you again.

 ❝ C’mon sweetheart...❞ he coaxes, chuckling when it’s met with cute little whines as your eyes flutter open. You stare up at him and yawn. He presses himself down into you a little better. You can feel the way his cock is strained at the confines of his underwear. This makes you whimper, rock yourself up into him. ❝ Want me t’ wake you up?❞ he questions and you give him a sleepy grin, nodding.

The Corroded Coffin t-shirt he’d given you at some point the night before is pushed up over your body and it falls from Eddie’s fingertips to the floor. You fell asleep not wearing any panties, so when Eddie starts to work his way down your body, pausing briefly to drag his mouth over your nipples as he buries two fingers deep in your cunt, you moan his name against the shell of his ear, rocking yourself against the way his fingers move inside you with precision, prodding at your spongy soft spot because he thinks it’s cute when you’re about to cum and you’re pinned beneath him and moaning his name like some kind of prayer.

His mouth works it’s way down your abdomen and the closer he gets to your throbbing sex, the more you come alive underneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as your legs fall apart willingly. Your other hand catches up in thick brown frizz, tugging, fingers dancing over his scalp. His teeth latch onto your mound and you moan out his name a little louder than you mean to seconds later when he turns his attention from leaving his initial marked in your soft skin to sucking your clit as his fingers fuck into you faster. You tense just a little, toes digging into your bedsheets as you rock yourself over his fingers and moan at the way he’s dragging his tongue in tight circles over your clit.

When his tongue joins his fingers inside of you, you gasp and arch upwards. You tug at his hair all over again, just a little harder and he laughs against your pussy. ❝ Pull harder if y’ need t’, princess.❞ he coaxes as he grabs hold of one of your hips, both holding you in place just a little better and angling so that his face is completely buried in between the soft dough of your thighs. 

Your head falls back and you’re begging for release. He pauses to look up at you, your juices dripping off his chin and at the corners of his mouth. Then he’s back at it, bridge of his nose bumping against your sensitive sex as he buries his tongue and fingers inside of you even deeper. You’re rocking your hips against his mouth frantically, seeking any friction you can get. Your orgasm is building real fast, you tense up as he mutters against your cunt ❝ Aht aht.. Not yet, sweetheart.❞

He wants to be buried inside of you again so badly that he’s bucking against the mattress because his cock is hard, it’s getting harder by the second and the more he thinks about how good it felt to be buried balls deep inside of you the night before, the more he wants to do it all over again.

And again. And then again.

He’s dreading the fact that the band has to leave town bright and early Monday morning because he doesn’t want to leave you. It’s dumb, it’s way too soon but something about being with you just feels different. 

❝ Jesus.❞ he breathes out against your cunt as his tongue drags over your folds before disappearing inside again, ❝You’re so wet f’ me, sweetheart. Fuck.❞

And he can’t take it anymore. He coaxes you into your first orgasm of the day and then he’s working his way back up your body, dragging the back of his hand over his mouth. He’s glad he fell asleep naked the night before, there’s less clothing to be mindful of. As he settles himself down into you, his mouth crashes against yours. You moan into the kiss as the taste of you fills your mouth. He bites your bottom lip, teeth tugging at soft flesh as the tip of his cock teases at entry, pushing against your sex.

As he buries inside of you, you cling to him, your arms around his neck. You meet his deep thrusts clumsily, whimpering when he starts to move faster and bottoms out, cock scrubbing perfectly against your soft spot.  You’re clenching around him, he can feel the way you’re shaking just to try and hold your orgasm at bay. ❝ Gonna cum f’ me, sweetheart? Gonna flood my cock?❞ followed by a chuckle as he noses some hair away from your neck and his mouth latches against your skin.

He’s gotten it in his head that if he has to leave you, he’s going to do it covered in his marks. He wants you to remember how much fun your little weekend was come Monday morning when you wake up to an empty bed.

He doesn’t want to leave, but he knows -or he thinks he knows, that if he stays, it’ll never work out. The two of you are a little too different. And maybe, deep down, he thinks you’re too good for him. Maybe he’s afraid that sooner or later, you’d see that yourself and leave him behind. Maybe he wants you to finish what you came to college to finish. Meet a better guy, settle down.

But the thought of you with anyone but him hurts. He’ll deny it with his dying breath, but he can’t stand the fact that he’s going to leave without goodbye come Monday morning.

He pushes it all out of his head. He’d rather focus on now, this perfect moment. You’re caged in below him, your pussy is clinging to his cock,  you’re kissing him so soft and those little whines and moans.. You’re repeating his name like a prayer, over and over. Like he’s the only god you want to worship. 

❝ – fuck, oh fuck. Shit, sweetheart.❞ Eddie growls out against your ear as he fucks into you slower and deeper, ❝ Takin me s’ good. Fuck.❞ and he breathes in the fading scent of your perfume before adding in a quieter tone, ❝ Wanna cum so bad, princess. So fuckin bad.. Can I?❞

He’s begging to cum inside you and it’s the hottest -and the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. Your nails dig against his shoulders, crescent imprints left in their wake as you try to meet his hips with yours but you’re clumsy. Drowning in the orgasm that’s threatening to shatter you. ❝ Let go, sweetheart. C’mon, let me feel it. I need t’ feel you, sweetheart.❞ 

His coaxing is enough. Your orgasm shatters you, leaves you clinging to his body as he fucks you through it and down from the high, straight into his own orgasm a few seconds later. You can feel his hot seed coat your insides and his thrusts come to a slow stop as he melts down into you, pressing his forehead against your tits. Breathing heavy.

❝ Morning, sweetheart.❞ he chuckles as he looks up at you, takes in the fucked out daze you’re in, the way your lips are bruised and swollen from the way he’s been kissing you. And all the marks he left behind.

He’s staring at you as if he wants to commit the way you look pinned below him to memory. You want to ask if there’s any hope for the two of you, if you’re ever going to hear from him again after he leaves town on Monday but you don’t dare. You can’t bring yourself to hear him say this was just a fling because it feels like so much more than that to you.

Things felt too good. Too easy.

He feels like home and you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re going to lose that when the weekend ends and he leaves town.