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gilverrwrites · 2 months

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Skinny Dipping

Pairing: Dean WInchester/F!Reader

Authors note: This has the been the hardest, and biggest of my re-mastered fics so far. I’m pretty sure the original was an amalgamation of imagines from supernaturalimagine and dirtysupernaturalimagines but I couldn’t even guess at which imagines exactly. This is like, my 4th public/semi-public fic in like 3 months, I’m starting to feel like this is a kink I didn’t know I had. Also, Metallica have not cancelled anything, don’t worry. (and I don’t know jack about cars, people that do, please don’t come for me, I really did try, k, thanks, bye.) 💖

Plot: Reader is a mechanic who Dean's been checking in on, and checking out for a while now. Dean has the perfect excuse to see her after baby breaks down nearby.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 2936

Content: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, reckless drunken/tipsy behaviour, being submerged underwater, skinny dipping, teasing, brief retraining, size-difference, dry-humping, (or I guess wet-humping), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, water sex, mild angst.

Please remember: If you never try, you’ll never know.

You switch off the radio, listening to the purr of your car's ignition as you pull up behind a familiar black impala. It was a beauty, but it was nothing compared to your ‘70 boss. You watched as its owner climbed out of the front seat and headed towards you.

Its owner being your old friend Dean Winchester. He and his brother had saved you from a coven of witches a few years back, and ever since he’s been popping back into your life every few months. ‘Working on a case nearby’, ‘just passing through’, ‘baby needs a new compressor’. Every visit he laid the flirting on thicker. You weren’t sure if he was just joking around with you, or if he was serious, or if he saw you as a challenge. Either way you’d been making him work for it. Today it just so happened that his car had broken down a few miles out from your shop, the perfect excuse to see you on a Friday night.

You were pulled from your train of thought by a light tapping on your window. You snapped your head to the side to see Dean hovering over your door. His familiar smile set your heart racing. Okay, so maybe his seduction tactics were working, he was hot, who could blame you?

“Is there a problem, officer?” You joked, rolling down your window.

Dean rested an arm on the hood and leaned in. “No, no, just a routine check.” You knew he impersonated officers and agents all the time, but you hadn’t seen it firsthand. It was impressive how easily he slid into character.

“I am, however, gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle for a full strip search.”

Act ruined.

“At least buy me drink first.” You quipped.

“If you can help me, I’ll buy you a whole dinner.” He winked and opened the car door from the outside. You raised your brows at him but climbed out anyway before making a b-line for the impala’s engine.

“What’s wrong?” You directed your question to the car in the same tone you would address a small child or animal, gently rubbing a hand across its roof as you walked beside it. "Has someone been neglecting you?”

“Hey!” Dean barked, clearly offended. “I take better care of this baby than I do myself.”

At that you looked back over at him. He’d forgone his usual flannel today, leaving him in a pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a grey t-shirt that clung tight and accentuated his broad chest. By the time your eyes reached his face, Dean was sporting a wicked grin, clearly ecstatic to have caught you checking him out. You avoid his smug gaze by popping the hood of his car to take a look at the engine.

“You weren’t kidding.” You whistled; Dean really was taking care of the thing. The motor was almost gleaming. You felt his warm hand suddenly press against your lower back and turn to look up at him. The expression on his face could only be described as that of a proud father.

“Yeah.” He agreed before pointing to the main battery with his free hand: “This is the problem. It’s busted.”

“Ah, you’re gonna need a new one. I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare.”

“Yeah.” To his credit, he looked pretty sheepish. “I normally do, but guess I forgot when the last one went out.”

“I don’t have one.” You said, pursing your lips to express your sympathies.

Dean didn’t respond, biting his lip while he waited for you to continue.

“But I could give you a jump start if you gotta head out soon.” You bring the hood back down and start heading to the boot of your car.

“No good,” Dean calls after you. “I’m not in a rush, but I don’t have enough gas to get me where I’m going.”

“Well… I’ve got a guy. He’s a few towns over. He’s closed at this time.” You inform as you open your boot and pull out your tow rope, flashing it to Dean with a smile. I can tow you into town for tonight, then drive you there and back in the morning.”

“I knew I could count on you!”

An hour later, you’d slowly but surely managed to drag Dean and his baby back into town, argued with him about him staying at a motel or on your couch (you’d won), and successfully swindled him into buying you that dinner he’d promised. Dinner being take-put pizza and over-priced ice-cream. Now, the two of you were sitting in your backyard, sharing the aforementioned ice-cream and an old bottle of Jack Daniels you’d pulled from the back of your cupboards.

“So,” Dean began, his speech slurred by the spoon hanging from his mouth. How’s the garage doin’?”

You take a sip of the JD and proceed to suck on your teeth as you consider how to respond.

“Honestly, bad. Ever since that shitty corporate place set up shop down the road, we’ve been going downhill.” You punctuate your statement with another sip from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “I’m keeping it up and running by tooth and claw, but truthfully, it’s probably only got a few months left in it.”

He gives you a sombre smile as he exchanges the tub of ice cream for the bottle. It's a touchy subject, but you can’t help admiring the way his neck moves as he tilts his head back to drink. You avert your eyes by scooping up the last bit of cold, sugary goodness and placing the empty container on the grass beside you.

“That sucks.” He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. “That really sucks. Do you have a back-up plan?”

You grab the bottle back from Dean and take another sip before answering.

“I dunno. Sometimes I think about doing what you do. Kinda.” You begin. You don’t miss the way his entire body stiffens before you clarify. “Without the monsters. Just hit the road, get drunk at every bar in the country, visit Disney, become Metallica groupie, an-”

“You know they cancelled that tour, right?” Dean butts in.

“WHAT?” You shake his hand off and stare up at him in disbelief.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. The smile on his face is anything but sympathetic.

“Bastards.” You cross your arms and pout dramatically. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the laugh that escapes Dean's lips is magical, and you can’t help but join in. When he returns his hand to your shoulder, this time reaching for the furthest from him, thus wrapping himself around you, your skin tingles, and you let yourself fall into him.

As the two of you slowly seize your giggling, Dean checks his watch. He quirks an evocative brow at you when he speaks, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should head inside?”

You mull it over, dramatically swaying your head from side to side before you voice your decision. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

You stand up, offering your hand to Dean, who eyes you sceptically. Nevertheless, he takes the bait, placing his hand in yours and allowing you to lead him toward the footpath just outside your garden.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, and you can sense the caution in his voice. You assume it’s the hunter in him being paranoid, and you know for a fact that his free hand is hovering over the knife he keeps tucked into the back of his jeans at all times.

“I’m taking you here,” you answer as you pull him through the last set of trees and onto the shore of the local lake. You scan the surrounding area as you kick off your shoes. Satisfied that nobody is nearby, you start pulling off your trousers.

As you bend down to pull your socks off, you look up at Dean. He’s staring back at you intensely, mouth open, cheeks pink.

When you start pulling your top over your head you feel his fingers lightly brush against your hips. He’d stepped closer, and you’re tempted to touch him back or to reach up and kiss him. But you don’t. Instead, you throw your top over his head and sprint for the water.

“RACE YOU!” You challenge, discarding your bra and panties before you reach the water and forward dive in. Dean follows you moments later with a cannonball that splashes your face just as you’re resurfacing from your own dive.

“Fuck! That’s colder than I expected.” You yell to him.

“I’ll warm you up.” Dean replies as he swims close to you. You let his hands return to your hips, not expecting it when he dunks you back under the water.

You cough and splurge as he brings you back up. You flail your arms around until you find the top of his head, and you cling to him for dear life, but Deans is stronger, taller, and he’s found solid ground to plant his feet onto below the water. He escapes your grip and throws you under again.

“STOP. MERCY!” You yell when you come back up. This time, you use your legs for safety, wrapping them around his hips. You'd be safe if you could just get a grip on his arms. You’d been too distracted to notice his erection until you feel it poking at you. You’re about to make a comment about it, but Dean speaks first.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He laughs, you silence him with a swift but playful punch to the chest. In defence he grabs at your wrists, able to trap both in just one of his hands. His other hand slides up your arms, over your shoulder, your neck, until he reaches your cheek. He leisurely rubs his thumb against your wet skin.

You stay like that for a while, watching each other, before you finally ask, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Without any further hesitation Dean lunges forward, forcing his lips against yours. His kiss is hard and animalistic; he skips straight past the pecking and teasing to roaming your mouth with his tongue. His fingers leave your cheek and weave into your hair, holding you against him, his stubble scratches against your skin.

In a play for dominance, you dart your own tongue out, grazing his chapped lips, but he denies you. Instead, he pulls away from your lips, refocusing his attention on nipping and kissing at your jaw, neck, and collarbone.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.” He utters onto your skin.

“What, this exact scenario?” You joke.

“Not exactly.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and the gust of air against your skin makes you tremble.

“Then what?” You challenge. Your inability to touch him is frustrating you. In an attempt to stimulate him back, you grip your legs around him tighter, using him as leverage to grind against him. The tip of his cock doesn’t quite reach your clit, but its added pressure helps it spread your lips. “Tell me.”

He drops his hand from your head, and cups it under your asscheek. Firmly guiding you up and down, assisting you in rutting against his cock. Shakey breaths become grunts, and after a few seconds he releases your wrists so that he can grip you with both hands. Free to move, you shimmy down his body until you can feel his dick brush against your clit with each grind.

“Come on, tell me.” You plead, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening every time he hits your sweet spot. You know he's not shy, that he’s just getting lost in the feeling, and it pains you to say it, but eventually, you taunt. “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t tell me.”

He whimpers at your empty threat but finally confesses. “Just you. Your body, under me. Every night, I think about how you’d look, how you’d feel squirming, moaning my name.”

“Fuck. That’s hot.” You reply and he smiles as you plant your lips against his once again.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, speech slurred as he tries to speak between kisses.

“Yes.” You respond instantly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Please fuck me, Dean.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His grip on your ass is like a vice as he lifts you up slightly. You both work in sync to position yourselves just right until he lowers you onto his cock, slowly pressing into you. There’s some resistance as he stretches your walls, but the sound of his whispered praises helps you relax until he finally bottoms out, stretching you in all the right places.

“Fuck, that feels so good. You took me so well.” He affirms, and even though he’s already balls deep, you can’t help the heat that spreads across your face.

He begins lifting you again before you can respond, sliding you up and down his cock in slow, steady movements. You grip tight to his shoulders and hips with your hands and knees, using them as leverage points to help move your body up and down. Each thrush is slow and shallow, but Dean seems to be loving it; his head rolls back, and he releases breathy moans with every rock.

“Shit.” You shout, holding tighter still when Dean unexpectedly shifts below you, repositioning his legs to a sturdier position. You watch through hazy eyes as he reaches up and grips your hand, before guiding it down the tight space between your bodies. You get the message quickly, and begin rubbing your clit in lazy circles, keeping in time with the pace of Dean's cock.

The added stimulation had your toes curling in no time. When your pussy starts clenching around Dean’s cock, you see the sudden concentration in his face. His brow furrows, and he bites his lip as he focuses on riding you through your orgasm. The sight was the final push you need to take you over the edge.

“Fuck, Dean. Fuck fuck fuck, that feels good.” You cry out as you hit your climax.

“Keep saying my name, baby.” Dean begs as he continues rolling your hips together. You feel his body shake as he starts to struggle with your combined weights as he chases his own release.

You try to assist, desperately pumping yourself up and down despite the newfound sensitivity as you chant his name.

“Fuck, yes baby.” You feel the twitch of his cock inside you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he hits his orgasm, rutting his cock as deep as he can as he cums inside you. “oohhh yeah.”

You stay in position for a long time following, holding on tight to each other, listening to each other's breathing as you come back down, until Dean guides your body backwards so that you’re face to face again. “How you feelin’?”

“Good.” You reply with a smile.

“Good.” He grins at you mischievously before plunging backwards into the water, taking you with him.

“So, was that everything you imagined it to be?”

He purses his lips in thought before teasingly responding. “Eh, it wasn’t bad.”

You both laugh as you lay your head down on Dean's bare chest; his arms envelop your body as you both blankly look up at the stars. You play with the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him when you emerged from the water and re-dressed.

“You should do it.” Dean says when you're both fully settled down.

“Do what?” You query, popping your head up to look at him, unsure what he’s talking about.

“Hit the road.” He clarifies, revisiting your earlier conversation. “I mean, life on the road isn’t easy or sustainable, trust me, I know.”

“But…” You prompt, knowing fully that he wasn’t going to stop there.

“But it could be fun for a while. If it’s what you wanna do. Hell, I’d totally be a roadie if… you know.”

“I know,” You reply. You’re smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The reminder of your failing business stung, but you didn’t want it to spoil your night. You lean forward, caressing his cheek; his stubble feels rough against your fingers. You gently pull his face forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I might. I probably will. If it comes to it.”

“I can’t come with you.” He says when you lean away. You hadn’t expected him to want to come with you. Hoped, maybe? But you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“I know.” You repeat.

He carefully reaches up to run his hand across your damp hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer, softer than any you’d shared all night. When you’re done, he lets his head fall back against the ground, and you perch yourself against his chest once more.

“You’ll still call me though, right?”

“Always.” He replies instantly. “You’re my best girl. Well, second-best girl.”

“The car?” You ask deadpan. Of course, the car is his number one.

“Who else?” He replies shamelessly.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, spent and damp under the stars, until eventually, you feel your lids growing heavy. You fight it for a while, willing yourself to remain awake, until eventually your tiredness wins out. You cuddle closer into the warmth of Dean's chest as you fall asleep.

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #gilverrwrites

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corroded-hellfire · 2 months

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The Boy Is Mine (Red's Version) - Eddie Munson x Reader

For @carolmunson’s writing event! Thank you for hosting this fun and uniting challenge 🥰

Summary: A romantic evening at Eddie’s trailer where you finally put a long-time dispute to bed.

Words: 2.2k

“Mmm,” Eddie moans as he stretches his arms out over his head. His tight back muscles loosen at the movement, having become stiff from sitting in one place so long to watch a movie. This is the third week in a row you two have had Star Wars Date Night and even though you both love it, neither of you realized how sore you’d get sitting in one spot for hours or how many times you would need to get up and use the bathroom during the long films.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, where you’re resting your head on a throw pillow in his lap. He smiles as he gently traces his fingertips down your cheek.

“Ready for bed, beautiful?” he asks.

You roll onto your back to look up at him. A rogue curl falls down in your direction and you take the opportunity to wrap it around your pinky.

“I guess so,” you say.

Reluctantly, you sit up and push yourself off the couch, allowing your boyfriend to do the same. The whole walk down the hallway to his bedroom, Eddie has his hands on you: gripping your hips, sliding them along your waist, tugging at the hem of your denim shorts.

“I’m capable of taking my own clothes off, you know,” you muse as you step into his room.

“I know. I just think I can do it better,” Eddie mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses there and up the side of your neck.

“Can I change into my pajamas and then you can grope me? Does that seem fair?” you ask.

Eddie chuckles and takes a step away from you. The moment you move further away from him though, he grabs his chest and acts as if your distance from him is literally killing him.

“Aw, damn,” you mutter as you pick your bag up from the floor and set it on Eddie’s bed. “Looks like I killed my boyfriend.”

The overdramatic metalhead drops to his knees, making the thin walls of the trailer shutter, and crawls towards you as if you’re an oasis and he’s been in the desert for days.

“Need…my…girl.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s theatrics, you tug your shirt off over your head. Eddie’s eyes go wide and watch you like a hawk as you take off your bra and jeans as well. You slip an oversized Metallica t-shirt on and put your clothes back in the bag. Something pink and sparkly catches your eye and you perk up.

“Oh!” You pull out a small notebook, covered in stickers in all its glittery glory.

“What’s that?” Eddie asks, finally standing up from the floor. He tosses his own shirt aside and undoes his handcuff belt.

“Just something to prove to you that I’ve been right all along!” You point the notebook at him like it’s an accusatory finger as he strips down to his boxers.

“About?” Eddie asks. He grabs an old yellow scrunchie you left over a while ago and ties his hair back at the nape of his neck.

Instead of answering him, you sit down on the bed and turn yourself until your ass is up against Eddie’s pillows. Then you lay back and kick your feet up to rest against the wall, leaving your body at a ninety-degree angle.

Eddie situates himself the opposite way, his body lying the typical way with his head coming to rest right next to yours.

“This,” you say as you open the notebook and begin to flip through the pages. Eddie tilts his head up to try and get a look but all he can see is swoopy handwriting in black ink scrawled across the white pages. “is the diary I kept in fifth grade.”

“Oh God,” Eddie says, running a hand down his face.

“I found it when I was cleaning my room this morning. Maybe now you’ll believe me!” you exclaim, and you begin to flip the pages with more fervor. “Aha! Here we are. My eleventh birthday.”

“Babe, you only invited me to your birthday party because you invited the whole class. It’s okay.”

“No!” you groan in exasperation. “I mean, yes, I did invite the whole class but that’s not why I wanted you there.”

“Right,” Eddie says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, “it’s because you had a crush on me.”

“Ugh!” The fact that he doesn’t believe you drives you up the wall. But now you’re holding proof. It’s right here in black and white—and clearly not in your current handwriting. “Prepare to be proven wrong.”

You clear your throat before you begin to read your pre-teen self’s diary entry.

“Dear diary, it was a pretty great birthday. I got a new bike from mom and dad. Chrissy gave me some new gel pens and Heather got me a Rick Springfield poster. But the best part of all was EDDIE! Duh! I didn’t see him when I cut my cake so later I grabbed a cupcake and punch to bring to him. I found him in my treehouse and we sat there for a while. Together. Just us! I wanted him to kiss me soooooooo bad but I knew he wouldn’t. It’s dumb to think he’d like me the way I like him. I can’t help it though. I just wanna take Eddie Munson’s face in my hands and kiss him until our lips fall off.”

You stop reading when you and Eddie begin laughing.

“See?” you say, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with your own. “I bet you don’t even remember that day.”

Your boyfriend lets out a loud bark of laughter before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Wanna bet?”

The backyard is set up with long tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths, grilled meats or snack foods laid out for guests to nibble on. The day is bright and sunny, but not blisteringly hot to be outside. It seems like half of your class is in the bounce house as you walk past it. A couple of your friends call your name, urging the birthday girl to come join them, but you have other plans.

In one hand you hold a cupcake and the other a cup of Hawaiian Punch. You couldn’t find where your mom put the extra cups from this party, so you had to settle for the Fairy Princess themed paper cups you had from last year’s birthday.

Squinting to keep the sun from your eyes, you take another scan of the backyard. Some neighbors talking by your dad over by the grill, a few of your aunts walking inside the house with your mom, and kids scattered around the yard like dice thrown across a Yahtzee board. But not the one kid you’re looking for. Still, you don’t give up. He was here before and you’re sure you would’ve noticed if he just left.

As you come to the back corner of your yard, it’s both cooler and much quieter. The shade from the looming maple tree brought a sense of calmness to the small, tucked away area. You take a few steps closer to the trunk of the tree and when you look up you see the treehouse you built with your dad and uncle two summers ago. And hanging out the front entrance of your hideaway fort you see two dirty white sneakers, one looking a little worse for wear than the other.

You walk around to the other side of the tree where planks of wood are hammered into the thick bark; your makeshift ladder. It’s a little difficult to climb with the confection in one hand and a full cup in the other, but you manage to do it without dropping or spilling either. Eddie’s head turns to you as you climb up the hole in the floor behind him. One corner of his mouth quirks into a smile and it has butterflies rushing throughout your stomach.

Determined to not make a fool out of yourself in front of the boy you have a massive crush on, you set the cupcake and beverage down as you pull your body all the way up into the tree house. Once you’re securely up, you scoot over to sit next to Eddie. Your legs dangle next to his out what could be considered the front door of the fort.

“What’re you doing up here?” Eddie asks, not unkindly but not exactly warmly either. His eyes never meet yours, instead gazing out ahead, in the direction of children laughing.

“You missed cake,” you tell him.

Eddie looks at you from the corner of his eyes and you realize he’s trying to determine if you’re being sincere or not. Anger settles in your veins and you’re suddenly ready to single-handedly take on any bullies that pick on this sweet boy.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Eddie finally replies.

If only he knew how wrong he truly was. It seems like you’re always aware of where Eddie is in relation to you. Whether it be seated behind you in class, down the table at lunch, or halfway across your own backyard.

“Well, I did,” you say, trying to quell the heat in your cheeks at your response. “And I brought you this.” You reach behind you and grab the Hawaiian Punch in the Fairy Princess cup. The reminder of what you’re giving him this beverage in has your cheeks getting warmer again though. “I ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?”

Eddie takes it from you and raises it to his eye level to inspect the different creatures depicted on it. An amused smile graces his lips, but he doesn’t laugh.

“It’s good. Fairies are cool.”

His response makes you feel lighter as you wrap your fingers around the polk-a-dotted cupcake wrapper and present the vanilla dessert to him.

“And this,” you say.

The boy takes a sip of the punch and sets it down next to him before accepting the cupcake.

“Thank you,” Eddie says softly. It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard him speak before.

“No problem,” you answer, just as quietly.

Slowly, Eddie peels the wrapper from the cupcake and takes a large bite that envelops half the treat in his mouth. As he chews, you notice he has a little vanilla frosting smeared above his top lip. You can’t help but smile as you gesture to the area on his pretty, pale face.

“You’ve got a little…”

Eddie sticks his tongue out and runs it around his lips, cleaning off the mess.

“Actually,” Eddie says, tilting his head as he looks at you, “so do you.”

A frown of confusion creases your brow.

“But I didn’t have a bite.” Your hand goes up and feels across your face. “Where?”

“Riiiiight…” Eddie swipes his pinky through the white frosting and dots it at the very tip of your nose. “There!”

The way your face crinkles up makes Eddie’s heart beat a little faster. And when your laughter joins in, Eddie swears he’s in love.

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like you,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Honestly, I thought you liked Chrissy.” You roll on your side and nudge Eddie’s earlobe with your nose. “That’s why I tried to copy her look as much as I could for a while. Didn’t work that well, but I tried.”

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to look at you.

“Mhmm,” you affirm, not meeting his eyes. “Actually, I thought maybe you liked her again last year when you guys were chemistry partners. Or maybe that you’d never stopped liking her. I mean, she is really pretty and the sweetest girl, and—”

Eddie stops you with a gentle hand caressing the side of your face. He turns on his side so you’re nose to nose and slowly swipes his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. I didn’t like her last year. Or in fifth grade. Or ever. I’ve liked you since the fifth grade, though.”

You slip off of the bed and rotate yourself so you can lay by Eddie’s side. He tucks you under his arm and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Sorry,” you say softly. “Guess I had a throwback moment after reading that adolescent angst.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I never get insecure.”

“Or jealous,” you add, but with a small smirk.

“I guess, yeah,” Eddie agrees, cheeks flushing pink at the admission.

“And possessive,” you say, tightening your grip on your man.

Now, Eddie has an amused expression on his face as he studies you.

“And you like that?” he asks.

“It’s hot,” you explain bluntly with a shrug.

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly and presses his lips against your temple, leaving them there for a moment.

When he reluctantly pulls away, he reaches behind him and turns off the light. The moment he’s back down beside you, you’re clinging to Eddie like a koala bear. He doesn’t mind one bit as he holds you just as securely.

After a little while, his eyes start to slip closed. But before he falls fully asleep, he feels your leg slip in between his. Your knee lifts until your thigh is pressed right up against his cock. Suddenly, he’s not so sleepy anymore.

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem,” Eddie grumbles out, making you giggle.

“I would hardly call that a problem.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

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