#Eddie is a special needs kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | halloween is that special night where you can be anything you want to be... maybe more than the labels everyone else gives you. maybe even more than 'just friends'. (aka, reader has a reputation, eddie's still a virgin, filth ensues)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.6k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only, of course), virginity loss, best friends to lovers, slight angst (mostly just hurt/comfort), unprotected sex, creampie, degradation kink (but like, in a loving way?), rough filthy fucknasty sex for no reason at all except that I'm a whore, L-bomb, reader is a candy corn hater (this was hard for me guys ngl), all men being trash except eddie (so, you know, real life)

“God, I can’t stand these,” you grimaced as you shoved the baggies of candy corn towards him.

“More for meee!” Eddie sang happily as he scooped them all up, cackling to himself as he filled his arms. He looked especially in character as a pirate in that moment, treating the candy like his treasure. His costume had actually come together better than you expected: the tight leather pants and boots looked less rocker and more sailor when paired with the flowy white shirt and black eyepatch.

"Will you trade your Sour Patch Kids for my candy cigarettes?" you asked him, getting an incredulous scoff in return.

"No way," he shook his head, "I don't need candy ones, got a couple packs of the real kind in my room."

You frowned. "Guess the candy economy changed since we were kids, huh?"

He looked up at you, a tender look in his eyes as he smiled. "Yeah…" he trailed off.

"I'm surprised anybody gave a couple of giant seniors candy for trick-or-treating," you smirked. "I guess that's the benefit of 'chaperoning' your Hellfire friends."

"Exactly," he beamed. "And hey, maybe we're a little old for it, but you make for a lovely princess."

You batted your eyelashes playfully, tilting your head with the tiara pinned on top. "Who, me? I'm just dressed as a good excuse to repurpose an old homecoming gown."

He laughed, but then seemed to get a bit more serious then (but still happy). "I'm glad we could do this," he decided. "Like old times."

"We always spend Halloween together," you reminded him.

"Yeah— I mean this." He motioned to the dumped-out pails of candy on the trailer floor, and you nodded. "And not just 'cause of the sugar rush."

You smiled softly at him, tilting your head. "Of course, Eddie."

"Kinda thought you were gonna ditch me this year," he added suddenly, looking down into his lap at the candy he was unwrapping. "You know… 'cause of that guy."

"Oh, yeah," you sighed, "well… that's over."

Eddie looked up again, his eyes seeming bigger than ever. "Really?"

"Don't sound so excited," you rolled your eyes, but the sarcasm wasn't enough to hide your heartbreak.

"No— hey, I'm sorry," he offered, scooting closer to you on the floor. "I know you liked him a lot. But I know you know I thought he was a total loser."

You shot him a look with a raised brow. He shrugged.

"Takes one to know one."

"You're not a loser, Eddie," you sighed sympathetically. "And you were right about him— obviously. I knew you were, I just… I dunno, I guess I thought I could change him?"

Eddie smirked. "When has that ever worked?"

"For me? Never," you scoffed. "I think guys do change, for the right girl. And it's just never me."

"That's not fair," he frowned, "it's not your fault that these guys are garbage. Well— I mean, it's sorta your fault that you keep hooking up with guys that are garbage—"

You slapped him on the arm lightly, and he laughed.

"Am I wrong?" he wondered.

You slumped your shoulders a bit. "No… but still. Don't be so mean, I'm moping over here."

"Aw, sweetheart," he pouted, sliding closer again and wrapping his arms around you. You sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes. Honestly, you were trying not to cry. Over a guy. You told yourself you weren't going to do that anymore. Actually, you told Eddie that you wouldn't do that anymore, after you cried over Tommy Pearson. And sure, you cried over James Neher since then, but he didn't call you out for it… that showed how messed up you really were over it, that he didn't poke fun at you for it. Almost nothing was too far with you two, you made fun of him for being a trailer park flunk-out just as much as he poked fun at your… storied dating history.

The one thing you didn't make fun of Eddie for (that much, at least) was his lack of dating history. As of yet, Eddie was actually still a virgin.

Uh, mostly a virgin… he got a blowjob once after a Corroded Coffin show, and called you first thing after to tell you giddily about how it went. He was heartbroken, too, when she never called, but he didn't cry— he just started dodging your questions about it until finally fessing up that she totally disappeared. So you put on one of his favorite movies (The Evil Dead) and wrapped him up in a blanket, and he was over it in a night.

That was a couple months ago, though, and Eddie had had no luck since with losing the remaining half of his virginity. You hadn't had any trouble finding guys, just in finding those special (potentially imaginary) ones that don't disappear after you put out.

The conversation drifted back to candy and the next Hellfire campaign before it looped back around to relationships again. It started because of a debate about if gum counted as candy, actually.

"Maybe, like, Juicy Fruit counts," Eddie decided. "But definitely not just any old spearmint stick."

"I thought you liked spearmint gum!"

"Yeah, but it's not candy! I like a lot of things that aren't candy!"

You huffed. "So you're not gonna give me anything for the sticks of Trident?"

"Best I can do is… one Tootsie Roll," he decided, tossing the pathetic little taffy at you as you scoffed.

"Don't insult me," you grimaced as you tossed it back, "I don't want your individually-wrapped waxy chocolate byproduct."

"I'll be honest, I didn't really understand that," he frowned, "but I can tell it was an insult to my beloved Tootsie Rolls."

"They taste like eating a chocolate scented candle!" you announced.

He gasped dramatically and held one of his larger Tootsie Rolls up to his chest, like he was protecting it from your words. "That's not true, baby," he whispered to the candy, petting it tenderly, "she didn't mean that…"

You laughed at the bizarre display. "God, you're such a freak," you reminded him.

"And you're a slut," he returned with a wide smile and a tilt of his head.

That was your thing, you'd always say that back to each other, like a nickname. You started it to try to take the power away from the names everyone else called you two, and it worked: it didn't hurt nearly as much getting called a slut when you could remember the way Eddie said it like a term of endearment. And he said it was the same for him, even though he pretended like he'd never been bothered by his label. He did have it worse though… he was the freak, you were just a slut.

"If you don't want the Roll then I guess I'm getting that gum for free," Eddie decided, about to reach for it, but you smacked his hand away.

"No way," you frowned.

"Are you gonna chew it?" he assumed.

"Never," you decided, "but I can find someone who wants it."

"Why won't you chew it yourself? Still turned off to all gum by that Fred guy?"

"It was Frank," you corrected, "and yeah, he never stopped chewing that stupid Extra. Even during…"

"Guess he needed a little Extra help in bed," Eddie snorted.

"The sex wasn't that bad, actually," you recalled, "it just… smelled a little too minty fresh."

"Does it normally smell like something else?" he asked.

Your face got a little warm. "Uh… yeah, kinda."

Eddie wrinkled his brow slightly. You thought that was the end of it, after a long pause, and you were just about to change the subject when he broke the silence. "What's it like?"

"The smell?!"

"No, no! The sex. What does it feel like?" he asked hesitantly, flipping up his eye patch to look at you properly.

"Well, I dunno— it's hard to describe."

"Everyone says that," he frowned.

"And it would feel different for you anyways," you added.

He nodded. "Right."

"One guy said that I felt like a warm bath, but like, only on his cock," you remembered, almost laughing at the memory. It was a weird thing to say, especially in the middle of sex.

Eddie choked. "O-oh…"

"What?" you tilted your head, confused by his reaction.

"I just— um, I was trying to figure out how it feels in general… I never even… I never thought about how you feel…"

Your face heated up a bit.

"Does every girl feel different?" he realized, leaning in a little closer to listen to your reply.

"That's what I've heard," you shrugged. "Every guy feels different."

"Different how? Like, bigger or smaller?"

"Not just that— sometimes you can feel, like, the head and stuff…" you explained, continuing when Eddie looked a little confused, "like, if the head is really big you can feel the edge of it. Or if he's uncut you can sorta feel that too, in the way he strokes. And then there's how curved it is…"

Eddie's stare was a little glassy. "You can feel all that? Just with your pussy?"

You nodded.

"That's…" he trailed off, clearing his throat. "Yeah. Cool."

The way he was clearly flustered by all this made your hips shift against the floor for a second. You and Eddie had obviously had pretty raunchy conversations before (see the aforementioned post-BJ phone call) and sure, sometimes they kinda turned you on… but this one felt a little different. Usually if you felt that feeling while talking to him about something it was because you were remembering something you'd done before; this was the first time you were actually imagining something. Something, specifically, happening with you and Eddie.

"You know…" you started before shaking your head and scoffing. "Nevermind. Too weird."

"What? Nothing's too weird with me," he grinned— one of his teeth was drawn out in black for the costume, and he looked pretty silly.

"I was just… I dunno," you shrugged. "If I tell you, you won't be, like, offended, right?"

"Well, I guess it depends on how offensive it is."

You sighed. "Just don't judge me, okay?"

"Never."

"I was thinking, if you wanted, you could… try it out. With me."

He froze. "Try… sex?"

He'd dropped his head lower between his shoulders as he said the last word. You nodded briefly. "Yeah."

You couldn't even begin to describe the look on his face. "Well, that's… not offensive."

Already you felt ridiculous, and you shook your head as you started to backtrack. "I'm sorry if that was a really weird idea, I'm not trying to—"

"No, no! It's okay," he assured, reaching out towards you for a second but not actually touching you. "I just… didn't think you would say that. Um. Yeah. So, we would just, like, do it?"

"If you want to."

"I mean, not that you're not— you're gorgeous," he promised, talking over himself, "you know I think so. But you're my best friend. Wait— no. You're gorgeous and you're my best friend. It won't make stuff weird with us, right?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna make it weird?"

"No more than usual," he smirked.

"Then, no. It wouldn't be weird. It would just be, like, a friend helping a friend out," you decided, "like how I hadn't tried LSD 'til I met you. You can try this, with me."

"Yeah, but," he lowered his voice, scooching a little closer, "this is different. I gave you drugs but you… you're the drug. It's your body, and you're giving it to me."

You fought the urge to bite your lip. "Yeah," you agreed, "I don't mind. Just use me for a bit."

Eddie's throat bobbed as he swallowed, mouth falling open for a second. "Use you?" he repeated. "God, why is that hot?"

"'Cause guys are always into that— they wanna feel powerful or whatever," you explained with a snort of a laugh. "Wanna feel like they're conquering something."

"Heh," he laughed nervously as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, "are we all so predictable?"

You smiled at him, leaning closer slightly and tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes. "I dunno," you teased, "but I'm predicting you're gonna take me up on this."

"Fuck yeah I am," he decided, grabbing your face to pull you closer— but then suddenly stopping. "Fuck, wait, can I kiss you?"

You blinked quickly. "Um, yeah," you decided.

For all that bravado before, he hesitated before he did kiss you… and it was actually pretty sweet, and gentle, and way too short. Yes, it did feel sort of weird knowing you were kissing Eddie, your best friend since 4th grade, but not a bad kind of weird, necessarily.

He was smiling at you already when he pulled back. "You know you don't have to do all that, right?" you reminded him.

"I-I know. I'd feel weird about it if I didn't kiss you first, though," he explained. "And, you know. Kissing is nice. Friends can kiss."

"Yeah," you laughed.

"We can, uh, go to the bedroom," he offered. "Not that it wouldn't be fun to do it on the floor surrounded by our candy quarry— just, uh, not how I pictured my first time."

"Well, either way," you replied as you both stood up, following him across the trailer to the bedroom, "it's not who you pictured your first time with."

"Yeah, well, Joan Jett was busy tonight," he laughed, and you laughed with him, falling onto the bed together with a sigh. You'd done that a lot before— but sitting up on your side, facing him, starting to touch his chest delicately through his shirt… that was new.

"Do you want me to ride you, or—?" you started to offer.

"No! No," he sighed, "I wanna— like you said, use you, right? I want you to, uh, lay back, and I can go as fast or as slow as I want."

You smiled a little. "Okay," you agreed, "but— I should probably take this dress off first."

"Let me help," Eddie offered, even though you didn't actually need any help. You turned away from him and felt his hands delicately unzip the back of the gown; the ghost of his touch on your spine made you nearly shiver.

Once it was unzipped, you shimmied out of the garment and tossed it aside, leaving you in just your bra and panties (and the tiara, which you'd forgotten about.

You laid back on the bed for him to climb on top of you, which he did, his eyes running all over your body. "Listen, I know you're already doing me a really big favor," he cleared his throat, "but, uh, maybe… maybe you could show me your tits?"

You grinned and reached under your back to unclasp your bra, hearing him sigh a little at the sight of your bare chest.

"Can I—?"

"Sure," you answered instantly. Of course, you thought he was about to say touch them, so you gasped in shock when he actually latched his lips onto them, suckling at your nipples eagerly. "F-fuck, Ed…"

"Wow," he breathed when he pulled back, "they're really sensitive."

“Yeah,” you agreed, deciding not to mention that that wasn’t always the case. “I can’t help but notice that you’re still in your pirate get-up there, Munson.”

He smirked. “Unfair, isn’t it?”

Nodding, you watched him sit back on his feet so he could pull his shirt off over his head. You'd seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but the toned torso with a decent scattering of dark hair and even darker tattoos was always a welcome sight. He'd gotten even more muscular in the last couple years, something you'd sort of tried not to notice, but you couldn't fight the urge to run your hand over his chest and pecs when they were exposed.

“Is that better?” he grinned, but you laughed loudly right away when you saw one of his teeth was still blacked out for the costume. He wrinkled his eyebrows before he seemed to remember, looking a bit more shy for a moment. “R-right, sorry…”

He reached into his mouth and scrubbed the black marks off with the pad of his finger, licking the tooth for good measure before showing his teeth again.

“Back to normal?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, “good as new.”

Your hand was still on his chest, lightly, and he got a little more serious as he took it and guided it down: over his slight abs and down to the thick bulge in his pants. You sighed a little at the feeling of it through the leather, he was so hard and warm even through the heavy material.

"Damn, you're big," you noticed.

"Really?" he grinned. "Fuck, okay."

"I should've known you would have a big cock," you laughed, rubbing him a little firmer through the pants, "you've got that way about you."

"Oh? I didn't— I didn't think it was that big," he mumbled.

You smiled and pulled your hand out of the way as he shimmied the pants down his thighs, exposing his erection that bounced back up to his belly button. (Yes, it reached that far, and you felt a little dizzy.)

"So," he broke the silence, "that's… that's my dick."

"Y-yeah," you nodded, sounding a little hoarse.

He let you stare at it blankly for a while before clearing his throat, tearing you out of your trance to look up at him; he smirked at you proudly, the smut bastard. "You're looking at me different now. You look… well, you're kinda drooling."

"Yeah… sorry…" you murmured absent-mindedly.

"No, don't be," he assured. "You know, the girl that gave me that blowjob, she could only take it to about here before she choked."

He held his finger up to halfway down his shaft, and your hips shifted. "I could get it deeper," you announced.

"Oh, you will," he promised, "but not with your mouth— I don't have any use for your mouth, babe. You promised me your pussy, that's what I want. And she's gonna take all of it."

"Are you talking dirty to me now?" you noticed.

"It might be dirty, but it's true," he smiled, falling down on top of you and holding himself up with bent elbows beside your head. "You can still back out, you know," he reminded you. "No judgment. We'll go back to normal."

"We were never normal, Eddie," you reminded him.

"Right," he grinned, "but still. Are you sure?"

"Yeah— if you are."

He kissed you again, right when you least expected it. "Yeah," he whispered when he pulled back slightly. "I'm sure. I, uh, think it's about time that I lost it, don't you?"

Nodding in agreement, you reached down and wiggled yourself out of your panties, totally naked under him. He sighed slowly and looked down for a moment— only to look back up with his lip between his teeth.

"Fuck. Okay. Are you ready?" he asked.

"Are you?" you returned— he looked pretty nervous, shaking a bit, breathing heavy.

"Yeah, fuck, I've been ready for this for years," he laughed breathlessly. "Just didn't think… yeah, fuck. Didn't think it would happen tonight."

"Well, if you keep stalling, maybe it won't," you smirked.

"Okay, okay— no more stalling. I'm gonna… I'm gonna fuck you now."

He sounded like he was convincing himself more than you— but a moment later, he plunged forward and filled you with his cock.

He shivered as he pressed his hips up to yours, moaning weakly. For a moment, you couldn't help but bite your lip at the feeling of him buried all the way inside you, but thankfully he didn't notice: his eyes were shut tight and his head tossed back.

You sat up, barely, just enough to put your lips by his ear. "You're not a virgin anymore, Eddie," you whispered to him.

He sighed, then laughed slightly. "I guess not."

"How's it feel to be inside a pussy?" you asked, genuinely curious for his reaction. "Compared to a blowjob."

"God, it's— it's so much better," he panted.

"Really? Some guys really seem to prefer getting blown even though it's not nearly as fun for—"

"No, fuck, this is better," he insisted quickly. "Your… your pussy feels so— and it's— fuck, so warm, warmer than a mouth. And… and really tight— god, it's so… squishy?"

You laughed. "That's not a very sexy way of describing it."

"W-well, sorry," he laughed too, breathlessly, "that's how it feels. You're— thank you for, uh, letting me do this."

"Yeah," you agreed with a smile, relaxing into the mattress under you and noticing the way he was staring down at your face.

"I can move, right?"

You nodded; he shuddered a little as he pulled his hips back and pushed forward again. He caught you watching his face, so you shut your eyes quickly and just focused on the feeling. It had actually been a while since you had a hook-up, and though you didn’t expect this to last very long, you could at least just enjoy it for now.

"Fuck," he breathed, "it's so… sticky. Fuck."

“Sticky?” you repeated.

“I-in a good way,” he added quickly. “God, I just… you’re really wet, s’all.”

Eyes still closed, you felt a smile trying to creep up on your face. You could tell he wanted to know why you were so wet, specifically he wanted you to say that he made you that way, but you decided his ego was already getting enough stroking for the night.

His breathing was heavy and slow, but the pace of his hips picked up. When you blinked your eyes open, he was staring down at where he was fucking into you; that made you feel a little exposed, but oddly powerful, too. "Wow," he groaned, "I— I love watching it. The way it, like… splits open, around my cock… fuck. That's really sexy."

His next thrust was a little harder, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.

"Mm," you moaned softly, adjusting yourself under him a bit. "That's nice— you feel good."

"Really? Fuck, I couldn't feel half as good as you do," he grunted, "'cause if I did you wouldn't be able to be so quiet."

"I'm just listening to you," you explained with a smirk.

"Can you feel the, uh, head? Like you said before?"

You nodded. "It's rubbing this one place inside me— it feels good."

"Oh, fuck," he purred, starting to move faster. "Tell me that again."

"It feels good, Eddie," you groaned, "you feel good."

"Fu-uck," he whined, shutting his eyes tight and tilting his head back. "How good?"

You knew he could be a little competitive, and you smirked slightly. "Better than the other guys," you answered, figuring that was what he wanted to hear.

"Do you— fuck— do you let a lotta guys do this?" he asked roughly. "Just— use you, to come?"

You shook your head. "No— I need something from them, they have to make me come. But you don't have to, Eddie, I don't need you to do anything to me except whatever you want."

"God," he choked, "that's— fuck. you're way too nice. I-I’m gonna— fuck, I don’t think I can last very long.”

You just smiled and reached up to hold onto his shoulder. “S’fine, you can come— I want you to.”

“Really?” he whined. “Fuck, I’m not very good at this, am I?”

“Just come,” you encouraged, “it’s okay, Eddie, just come inside me—”

The second you said that, he groaned weakly, head falling onto your shoulder; you felt it a second later as he gave you a few more weak thrusts, the flexing of his cock as he finished inside. Sighing in satisfaction, you shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around him tightly.

After a long silence, with his heavy breathing falling on your ear, Eddie rolled off and onto his back beside you on the mattress. “You look different,” you giggled as you turned to look at him while he stared up at the ceiling.

“I feel different,” he agreed. “That was— yeah. That was different.”

“Good different?”

He looked back at you, finally, with raised eyebrows. “Are you jok— yeah! Fuck yeah, that was— Christ.”

There was another long silence, maybe a few minutes’ worth, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. You and Eddie were always pretty good at silences. This one was heavier, and more meaningful, but just as natural as usual: until he broke it.

“Wanna do it again?” he asked softly.

Your eyes widened. “Uh— fuck, now?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you. “I’m still— maybe this time you could actually— you know, uh—”

You bit your lip as he stammered over a few different sentences.

“Or if that’s all you wanna do, you know, with me, that’s fine,” he promised, “but, um… I feel bad, you know, that you didn’t…”

“Okay, yeah,” you agreed quickly, “I mean, if you can still—”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before he was inside you again. Moaning louder, you tilted your head back and held onto his sides as he fucked you; his mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a small whimper. “Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “fuck— you feel so good…”

“I— Eddie, I didn’t think you could—” you began.

“I didn’t think I could either,” he laughed, “but it’s just— fuck, you’re so… I just need to— god…”

His thrusts were harder and faster than they’d been before, and everything was so slick with his come still leaking out of you; it was filthy in the best way.

“I didn’t think you’d let me do it twice. I… I really don’t deserve this,” he insisted quietly.

"Yeah, you do," you breathed. "You're so sweet, Eddie, you're my best friend— dunno what I'd do without you—"

"I lied," he blurted out suddenly. "I thought about it before. About how you would feel."

You barely even remembered the part of the conversation he was talking about.

"All the time, god, I thought about it all the time," he admitted with a lowered voice, resting his head on your shoulder, fucking you even deeper until your eyes rolled back. "Thought about it while I jerked myself off— how your pussy would feel. And it's so much better than I thought it'd be. You're really tight— I didn't know if you would be, 'cause, y'know, you're a slut."

You wanted to correct him on that old myth about tightness and promiscuity, but you were too busy trying not to moan so loud the next door trailers would hear.

"Fuck," he laughed, "you got even tighter when I called you that. Slut."

"Freak," you choked out through a moan, your instinctive response.

"You haven't seen the freak yet, princess," he smirked proudly, lifting his head up to look down at you. "I wanted to fuck you different than this, too— I thought about fucking you from behind. Smacking your ass and watching it bounce on me. Making you fucking scream."

"God, Eddie," you whined.

"Is this how they talk to you? All those guys you let put their cocks in you, do they treat you like this?"

"N-not exactly…"

"Well, that's too bad," he whispered, "'cause I can tell this is how you like it. Am I wrong? Do you like being fucked like a whore, and called one?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, Eddie, I… I like it rough. And mean."

He chuckled. "That explains a lot. I can be mean, sweetheart."

The kiss he planted on your cheek, though, was gentle and delicate.

"Or I can be nice," he added in a whisper. "I can be whatever you want."

“Just… be yourself,” you decided, sounding more like an inspirational poster than you intended to. He smiled and kissed you on the lips after that, reaching down to hold onto your thighs.

Well, it turns out Eddie ‘being himself’ in bed means fucking you mercilessly. And he was holding onto you mainly to keep you steady so he could rail you halfway to fucking death.

It was useless trying to keep quiet now, while he treated you this way, and so your loud moans were muffled only by his lips on yours; until, of course, he broke away and you could hear them echoing around the messy bedroom.

"So good," he grunted, "so— so fucking good. Such a perfect pussy, can't believe you're letting me use it. I'm so fucking lucky— my best friend is a hot slut, I'm so lucky—"

You arched your back a little deeper still, clinging to him tightly, feeling totally helpless in the best possible way.

"Gonna let me use this pussy again?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Whenever I want, right? You can be my little toy, baby. Your pussy can be my toy."

"Yes!"

"And I'll keep you so full of come," he promised, "so full, all the fucking time, you're gonna make my cock feel so good— fuck, baby, you're gonna let me get my cock wet all the time."

"Yeah, Eddie, fuck," you moaned.

"You're so pretty," he blurted out, and you almost laughed because of the sudden change of tone. "God, baby, you're so pretty— you look so pretty like this."

"On my back?" you smirked.

"N-no, you don't understand," he whined, leaning down so his chest was pressed to yours, whispering against your ear. "You're beautiful."

You smiled a little, holding onto him tighter.

"And I thought that before you let me fuck you," he promised. "I always thought you were beautiful. And that it should be me and not those guys you go home with."

"Y-you were right," you admitted, "but— we're still just… just friends, right?"

"Shut up, you're not fucking listening," he groaned, "I— god, I love you, okay?"

Your eyes were definitely just watering because of the intensity of it all; you hid your face in his shoulder, biting your lip, feeling your toes curl just above where your ankles were crossed around his hips.

"I love you and we can't just be friends anymore. You feel too good… I'm sorry, baby, we can't just be friends, I fucking need you."

“I— fuck, Eddie,” you whined.

“You love me too, right?” he breathed. Shyly, you nodded against him. “Then say it— baby, please, I need you to say it.”

“I love you too,” you choked out. “I need you too—”

"Oh my god I'm gonna come again," he gasped, tilting his head back. "Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna come inside you again. You're gonna be so full, baby. Gonna fuck you so full…"

“F-fuck, please, please,” you sobbed, your beaten walls clenching up every time he slammed himself into you all the way— it was too deep, but the right amount of too deep, somehow. “Please, Eddie, fuck!”

“I’m coming,” he grunted in a low and gravelly voice that made your spine tingle, “I— fuck, I’m coming again, fuck—”

This time, he stopped completely and suddenly, burying himself inside you with a long, deep moan. He slipped his arms under your arched back and hugged you tightly. This silence was much longer than the last, and a little less comfortable; there were all these questions hanging in it, including but not limited to: did he really mean all that? Did I really mean all that? Why haven’t we been doing this the whole time? Why is he so good at that? Are we dating now? Is this going to ruin everything?

It didn’t seem like it would ruin anything— actually, to you, everything felt right in a way it never had. You’d never really admitted to yourself how you felt about Eddie, let alone anyone else— let alone him, right now, in the middle of some spontaneous sex that you thought was going to change everything but actually made things suspiciously the same as ever.

That was what you realized, then: that this hadn’t actually changed anything. You’d loved him before tonight. You’d wanted this for a while. You’d needed him as long as you could remember. Everything could continue on as normal— except, hopefully, and presumably, that you’d be fucking a lot more.

As your mind raced, Eddie’s was completely and totally blank in a way it never had been in his life. He was entirely blissed out, and only came to when you shifted under him and made him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

Lifting his head, he looked down at you, reaching up to pet your cheek with his thumb and hum happily to himself. That moment couldn’t last too long, though, especially when he realized he’d failed at his goal: “Shit,” he groaned, “you didn’t come that time either, did you?”

You shook your head sheepishly, about to assure him that it was fine— there’d be other chances, clearly, and tonight was already more than perfect without that. He’d still done way better than you could’ve ever expected for a guy who was a virgin half an hour ago.

But before you could say any of that, he’d pulled you into a lazy, yet hungry, kiss; he smiled against your lips as his tongue carefully teased yours, holding your face in his hands. You were totally dazed when he pulled away, blinking up at him with totally undeserved innocence, and he had the most devilish look in his eyes. “Guess that means we’ll have to go for another round, huh?” he asked. But it wasn’t a question: he’d decided, and so had you.

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

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theemporium · 7 months

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Eddie Munson wasn’t the most romantic guy, but he tried his hardest.

His feelings for you were overwhelming in the best way possible. He was loud and eccentric and a little too much for most people, but then again, you weren’t like most people. Wayne had always joked that it was a shock Eddie managed to snag someone like you. You always liked to joke back that Eddie was scaring everyone else off until you came along.

But truth be told, he agreed with Wayne.

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get someone like you to love him, but you did. You loved him with your whole heart. You took one look at him and saw the real Eddie. You didn’t see some third year senior, or some freak obsessed with a fantasy game. You didn’t see a weird metalhead, or some kid with no future.

You saw Eddie. You saw a glimpse of him and you wanted to see more. You wanted to see more so you could love more, and it made his chest feel funny the way you decided to stick around even after seeing the person behind the mask.

And sometimes, Eddie envied how easily the relationship seemed to come to you. You would always surprise him, sometimes with dinner from his favourite or a bouquet of flowers or a tape you knew he had been wanting. You always knew when he wanted to be held or the words he needed to hear to cheer him up a little. You always knew how to make him feel special, like it was a basic instinct for you.

Meanwhile, Eddie was left second guessing himself because the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. He loved you. He loved you so much, it hurt. He loved you so much and he just wanted to show that. Hence, the picnic date.

He had gone all out, having spoken to Robin and Steve countless times over the last week to set up the perfect date setting. He cleaned out the back of his van to make it the perfect fortress of blankets and pillows. He had packed your favourite foods and even splashed some money on the slightly more expensive beer that was easier to get down.

It was the perfect set up for a romantic date, but the funny thing about Eddie Munson was that he wasn’t really a romantic kinda guy. And that was something you adored about him.

You didn’t want cheesy dates and corny lines that made you borderline feel like you wanted to empty your stomach. You didn’t want over-the-top date nights or meticulously planned outings. You didn’t want expensive beers and fancy chocolate-covered strawberries that cost three times the amount they should.

You wanted Eddie.

You wanted your Eddie.

You wanted your Eddie who made you feel good in a million different ways that no other man could ever compare to.

“Eddie,” you let out a soft, high-pitched squeal as your head fell back against the thick blanket beneath you. “Shit, I—”

“This,” he groaned, low and rough and gravelly. It made your stomach dip. His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, keeping them spread open as he leaned down to lick a thick strip along your cunt. “This is better than any fucking dessert.”

“Eddie,” you whined, your hands gripping the fabric of your pretty sundress in tight fists as he began shamelessly licking the mess you had made all over your thighs.

And you really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Eddie was a simple man when it came to you. Anything you did, the boy obsessed over because you did it and he was obsessed with you. So, his brain practically short-circuited when you came running out your house, dressed in a pretty floral dress that brushed against your thighs and had two thin straps holding it up. He about lost the ability to speak when you leaned over to kiss his cheek in a greeting, giving him the perfect view of your tits. But his downfall was when you climbed into the back of his van, giving him the perfect glimpse of the white cotton panties you were wearing that made it difficult to care about eating anything but you.

He lasted all of twenty minutes before he broke, watching a little dribble of strawberry juice drip down your chin that had him leaning over, licking up the mess before crawling over your body completely. You had breathed out his name, breathless and a little dazed when you saw the heated look in his eyes, the look that told you he wanted to devour you and that was exactly what you let him do.

But now you were two orgasms in, your body was wracked with pleasure and the boy didn’t look like he had any plans of stopping soon.

“‘s too much,” you cried out as he pushed your thighs up, almost bending you in half with your knees pushing against your chest so you were completely spread out and exposed for him. “Please, I can’t—”

“One more,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit because he liked the way your body jerked in response. “Need you to come on my fingers, honey. Then I’ll stop, okay? Just one more, that’s all I want.”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered, all high-pitched and whiny but your obedience made him grin.

And he did intend to only make you come one more time for him. He intended to give you a break. He did. He really, really did.

But then he was knuckle deep inside you, the wet and debauched sounds of your soaking pussy echoing through the back of his van as you squirmed and moaned and screamed out his name until your throat was raw. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your thighs were shaking in his hold and you were babbling incoherently, so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t have time to warn him that something felt different, that there was a twist deep in your guts that didn’t feel familiar.

Eddie could’ve came in his pants from the sight alone.

It almost felt never-ending. His fingers were pumping in and out of you, already soaked to the wrist with your arousal before you were squirting everywhere. You were shaking beneath him, mouth parted with silent screams as you soaked everything around you. As you shook and moaned and came harder than you ever had in your life. As you did something he only thought was possible in fucking pornos.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when your brain seemed to catch up with your body, blinking a few times as the realisation hit you like a freight truck. Your eyes instantly teared up, your hands desperately trying to pull the soaking material of your sundress over your body to cover yourself up like it would give you some dignity.

You opened your mouth. “Eddie, I’m so—”

“Did I say you could cover up?”

You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He slapped your hands away, not allowing you to pull your skirt over your pussy. “I said,” he repeated, his voice lower this time as his darkened gaze caught yours. “Did I say you could cover up?”

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “No, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and the hot tears of embarrassment were quickly replaced with the warmth of his praises. “Now, lay back down and keep your legs open.”

“Eddie—” you started again, your stomach dipping when you noticed the mess you made. Not only were you soaked, but so was he. His clothes now stained darker, along with the blanket beneath you but he didn’t seem to care.

“Shhh,” he hummed as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, completely uncaring of your arousal leaking and dripping down your thighs. “Only wanna hear your pretty moans, honey. Wanna hear how good it feels.”

“It?” You questioned breathlessly.

His grin was vindictive, almost sinister. “Wanna see you do it again f’me, baby.”

Your eyes widened. “But—”

“Nuh uh, what did I say?” He chastised softly, gripping your thighs until a soft whimper left your lips. “Now, either you let me hear those needy noises or I stuff something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, open those legs and let me see my pretty girl.”

#cece's smutober #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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inklessletter · 2 months

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The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.

Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.

Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.

It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.

Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.

So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.

And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.

It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.

He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.

He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.

Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.

The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.

Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.

He can't.

His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.

Lord knows it would be the first time.

The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.

He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.

The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."

It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.

"Yeah. I bet you do."

He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.

"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."

He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."

The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.

The question goes unspoken.

The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.

And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.

So for once in my life

let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time

#inklessletter #ficlet #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #soft #this is very much unedited so #it's been a long time since I don't write a bit #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #please please please let me get what i want #the smiths #this song is so absurdly important to me

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stevesbipanic · 3 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 24: Love is the only thing we can take with us.

@thefreakandthehair

Steve looked around his room, it would be the last time he did. He could hear his parents still arguing downstairs. He knew he didn't have a lot of time, soon he'd hear his father's footsteps coming up the stairs.

"You're no son of mine!"

Steve hadn't felt like his son in a long time anyway. When he thought of dads he thought of Hopper at his graduation or Wayne watching the game with him. He'd called Hopper, Dad, when he woke up in the hospital and saw the previously dead police chief at his bedside. No, Steve Harrington hadn't been Richard Harrington's son in a long time.

He knew he didn't have much time, but he'd been planning for this moment, the day they would find out. It was inevitable, small town, nosy neighbours. Steve kept his room impersonal for a reason, it wouldn't last forever. Kneeling quickly he grabbed his box, it was all he would need.

The clothes he actually liked wearing weren't in this closet anymore, the beemer had always been in his name. Nothing else in the house mattered but this box. The last piece of Steve in these four walls.

"Steven?"

He'd asked her to call him Steve all his life, she didn't.

"Can't you see what you're doing to your mother?"

Maria Harrington hadn't been Steve's mother in a long time. Mothers were there for their kids when they woke up from nightmares. Claudia never judged when he woke up screaming on the couch. A true mother looked after their son when he was sick in bed, soup and comfort and love. Joyce brought him soup last winter, when the flu had him stuck in bed, he didn't even call, she just knew.

"I know, I'm leaving now."

"Please, Steven, there are places we can go to fix you," she cried. Mothers don't think their kid's heart needs fixing.

"You were supposed to be a real man!" Richard yelled as he passed him down the stairs. Fathers are proud of their sons growing into protectors and carers.

"This will never be your home again!" Was the last thing Steve heard as he closed his car door and placed the small box on the passenger seat. Parents always have a home waiting for you, even when they think you're wrong.

"Steve?"

Wayne is the first one to spot him as he arrives at the trailer. It's sunday, family dinner at the rotating family table. Tonight was meant to be at the Munsons.

"Steve, honey? You ok?" Joyce is the first one to touch him, worry in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, son." Hopper is the first one to read his teary eyes like a book. They all knew where he'd been.

Claudia gingerly took the box from him, "I'll put this in your room, sweetheart, let Eddie know you're back home."

Steve could hear the kids yelling around the picnic table outside; could smell dinner cooking. Robins laughter piercing though the air and Eddie's boombox playing loudly.

"Baby?"

There he was.

"Hey, Eds, think we'll have to move up that moving date, if it's ok?"

Eddie's features softened from worry to sympathy, "Course, sunshine, although I'm still surprised Joyce and Hop didn't kidnap you months ago.

Later, when he'd given everyone hugs goodbye, some were a bit tighter than others, he sat on the bed with his box.

"You wanna unpack that alone, or want help?"

"You can look, it's not a secret, just special," Steve replied, patting the space next to him. Eddie plopped himself down beside his boyfriend, lifting the lid.

Inside was a mess of bits and pieces. Eddie reached in and took out a stack of photos. Steve at his graduation, a big smile with Hopper's arm around his shoulders, Dustin beaming beside him. Robin putting Steve in a headlock at the quarry last summer, he refuses to say he let her win. Eddie at his first show back, scars on full display. And countless other memories.

There were also little toys from the arcade and pebbles and ticket stubs and letters and a full life story of one Steve Harrington told through the love of his family.

"This was all I went back to get, all I needed. Wasn't expecting them to know about you already, but I knew they'd find out one day. Couldn't let them have this, not after they spent so long trying to take my heart from me."

"I think it's high time we clear some space around here for all this, Stevie, time to let your love be out on full display."

When Steve fell asleep that night, wrapped in the arms of a boy who went to hell from him and staring at the new photos on the wall, he truly felt home.

#i hope u enjoyed lex #this got away from me #half these love month prompts is me character studying steve #and i will not be shamed for it #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve has bad parents #but he has great parents elsewhere #ficlet #steddielovemonth

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acowardinmordor · 6 months

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You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.”

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too.

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened.

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened.

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot.

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop.

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now.

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan.

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box.

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going.

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.”

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever.

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded.

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?”

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too.

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part.

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her.

“New record, champ, that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check.

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces.

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what.

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts.

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself.

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now..

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--”

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while.

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates.

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling.

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut.

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head.

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity.

Eddie was still standing there.

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question.

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking.

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated.

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up.

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag.

***

Steve didn’t open it.

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night.

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days.

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.”

Eddie nodded.

Eddie left.

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat.

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it.

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible.

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him.

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap.

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that.

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada.

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke.

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale.

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess.

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six.

---------------

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

#You left me - you miss me #steddie #my writing #angst

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

Okay but husband Eddie begging reader for a baby and then fucking her with so much love please PLEASE BABE IM CRAVING THIS

author’s note: this idea sent me down a rabbit hole of emotions, jesus christ

cw: 18+ (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, breeding kink (sorta), lots of fluff and comfort to an emotional reader, just really sappy shit y’all

word count: 1.1k

It was a constant debate between the both of you. Marriage first, kids later. And now, with marriage out of the way, it was the only thing on Eddie’s mind.

“Please, baby,” He was on the ascent of a rant, and he would hit the peak soon, “just one.”

“Stop saying it like that, Eddie.” It made it feel like he didn’t understand the weight of what he was saying. Just one, just one. It was never, just one. “Kids are a serious deal.”

He moves in closer, hand settling around the dip in your waist, the other coming up to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you against him. You smile, soft and warm, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t love having a mini Munson running around this house.” He thinks fondly, half him and half you, the tiny pitter patter of feet running through the house, a nest of beautiful ringlets curls bouncing with every step. “We’d make cute babies and you know it.”

You made a noise of discontent, “Let’s just hope they take after you—all that beautiful hair, cute button nose,” You poke his nose gently, watching his face scrunch up. “But seriously, Eddie, this isn’t something to joke about. This is a lifelong commitment.”

“Baby, I’m committed to this, as long as you need me, as long as our kids need me.” His voice is raw, like he’s holding back emotion. It was often that you saw him like this, always holding himself together for you—not the other way around. You frowned slightly, moving your hand to cup his face, rubbing at the apple of his cheek with your thumb, smoothing out his worry lines.

“Let’s try, then.” You say softly, “We’ll see where it takes us.”

.ೃ࿐

“Fuck, baby—God, I love you so much.” His thrusts are slow, but forceful, taking his sweet, sweet time. He's making those soft noises into your shoulder, fingers digging into the delicate skin of your thigh, hip pulled up higher on one particular snap of his hips, forcing his name out in a cry, and then again, and again.

"Eddie, please," You beg for no real rhyme or reason, you just wanted him--wanted him to hold you, kiss you, bring you right to the brink of pleasure and back again, wanted to be consumed by him, "please."

It's a silent plea, the words hanging off the tip of your tongue. Your hands grip the sheets in anguish, the feeling of being so full off of Eddie's dick that you can't even think straight. Sex was always special with him, he always made sure to take care of you.

"You drive me fuckin' crazy." His voice is strained, barely above a whisper. "Just want to fuck you full--want to see how good you'd look carry my babies." It was different from the usual dirty talk, but given the subject matter, it made all the sense in the world. It peaked an interest in you that you had no idea existed, not until he's speaking those words to you, in the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, a place sacred for you and him. "Can't even think how beautiful you'd look, all round and pregnant."

You try to force the small bubble of laughter back down, but it escapes you. It feels ridiculous, but you can't find it in you to ask him to stop. "What? Too much?" Eddie asks, coming back to earth for the time being, having lost himself in the moment.

"No, no." Your breathless when you answer, hands resting against your chest as his pace slows again, taking the chance to look you in the eye. "It's--it's really good. I don't mind."

"Good." He agrees, leaning forward to nip at the skin on your jawline, hands gripping your waist, thumbs barely grazing the apex of your thighs, pulling you flush against him, burying his dick as deep as it would go. "Gotta make sure it all stays in, right?"

You nod earnestly, bottom lip pulled between your teeth, gasped pulled out of your chest on a particularly rough thrust of his hips. "Need you to come in me, baby." Your voice is wrecked, "Want you to come in."

Eddie's fucking up into you with fervor, somehow still maintaining his soft exterior in the way he's peppering kisses along your chest, your face, until he's pulling you in for a deep, bruising kiss that leaves you moaning into his mouth, his hand reaching between the both of you is an afterthought, until he's bringing you to an orgasm quicker than you expect, clinging on to him like your life depended on it. "Oh, Eddie, baby—" You sob, unexpectedly overcome with emotion.

Eddie comes almost immediately after, it hitting him just as hard, hips buried to the hilt inside of you. The thing about Eddie, despite how often he speaks up during sex, is almost silent when he comes. His eyebrows knitted together, mouth hung open slightly, eyes shut tight—like he can’t seem to catch his breath for a moment. He collapses on you, still mindful of his body weight, before rolling off onto his side.

It isn’t until a few seconds after that he realizes you’d been crying, a mess of tears and small, quiet sobs.

“Hey, hey—“ His voice is soothing, a soft hush that you found helped keep you grounded. He always knew just the right way to comfort you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You respond, wiping away the few tears that had ran down your face. It seemed silly, the idea that you could get so emotional out of nowhere, but the thing was—you couldn’t help how loved Eddie made you feel. “Everything is perfect.”

And it was, it truly was. Your life, his life—it melded together perfectly.

“I love you,” It was his special way of saying ‘goodnight’ or ‘sweet dreams’, but it also meant exactly what he wanted to say, those three little words being the driving force in your relationship. It was reassurance on bad days, the feeling of fondness on the days you couldn’t stop laughing, but it was also the feeling of anticipation, of what you had to look forward to in your future together, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You lean forward slowly, kissing the bridge of his nose. His eyes were heavy, half closed—both from exhaustion and post-orgasmic bliss.

“I want this to work, but part of me—” Eddie laughs into your cheek, hiding his face away from view, “I really just want it to fail a few times so I can fuck you like that again.”

“Eddie!” You squeal, swatting him playfully against his arm. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Would fuck you again, right now, if I wasn’t so tired,” You laugh, burying his face into your chest, running his curls through your fingers. It helped him fall asleep faster, he speaks through a yawn, “but, that’s why there’s always tomorrow.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #my writing #blurbs #1kfic #5kfic

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imfinereallyy · 10 months

Text

Bedside Manner

for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"

"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"

Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."

Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "

Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."

Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."

Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"

"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.

"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"

"The infection has spread."

Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"

Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."

Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."

"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"

Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."

Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"

Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."

"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."

"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."

Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.

"Well, you both care about me deeply."

Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."

Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."

Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.

"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."

Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."

Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."

Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."

It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.

"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.

The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.

Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.

"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.

"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.

Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.

Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.

"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"

Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."

Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.

Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.

"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.

"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.

Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."

Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"

Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."

***

#steddie #stranger things #wayne munson #modern au #wayne likes to play match maker but unlike dustin he is good at it #steve harrington #eddie munson #implied ronance #platonic stobin #nurse steve harrington #my writing #request game #steve x eddie #ficlet

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