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#Stranger Things fic
say-al0e · 3 days
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Cling
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Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​
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luveline · 2 days
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hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3
kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k
“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 
Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 
“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 
“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 
Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 
Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.
“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 
“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 
“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 
She grins. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome. You all done?” 
“Yep.” 
“Not hungry anymore?” 
“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 
“Thanks, beautiful.” 
She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 
Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 
Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 
She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 
“I’m tired.” 
“It’s not bed time.” 
She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 
“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 
“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 
“That sound fun or what?” 
She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 
He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 
You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 
“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 
“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 
You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 
Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 
I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 
“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 
“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 
“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 
Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 
“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 
“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 
“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 
“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 
He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 
“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 
“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 
He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”
“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.
“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 
“I didn’t say one!” 
“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 
“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”
You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don��t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 
“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 
Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 
Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 
Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 
Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 
If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 
You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 
You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 
“Oh, no,” Avery says. 
“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 
They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 
“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 
Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 
“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 
You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 
“Gonna get Beth changed.” 
“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 
It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 
“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 
The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 
Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 
“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 
“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 
“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 
“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 
Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 
“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 
This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 
“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 
She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 
“Sorry,” she laughs. 
“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 
Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 
“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.
He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 
“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 
“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 
Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 
Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 
“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 
You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 
He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 
“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 
You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 
Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 
“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 
“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 
“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 
He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 
“Feels too good to be true.” 
“My turn tonight,” he says. 
“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 
“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”
“I want them too,” you say. 
“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 
“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 
Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 
“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 
“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  
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steveseddie · 3 days
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do or do not (there is no try)
for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round: birthday | word count: 290 | rating: t | happy birthday @steddieas-shegoes <3
this is also for my stficbingo prompt: lightsaber
***
Vvvrrroomm!
Steve ducks his head as Eddie swings his lightsaber, slaying imaginary Jedis. He’s been doing that since opening his birthday present, squealing excitedly at the toy Steve bought as a joke. 
Eddie’s real present is at Steve’s house. He’ll give it to him after his surprise party- new strings for his Warlock and a signed Metallica record that Steve drove three towns over to get. But if Eddie acts half as excited about those as he’s right now, it’ll be worth it.
“Join the Dark Side or perish,” Eddie says in a deep voice, holding the red lightsaber against Steve’s neck.
“No, thanks?” Steve thinks back to the night they met. “And, why do you keep holding deadly objects against my neck?” 
Eddie shrugs, withdrawing the lightsaber and spinning it, only to accidentally drop it. “Shit.” 
“Not very Jedi Knight of you.” 
He sits next close to Steve on the couch. “I shall convince you to join some other way.” 
“How?” 
“With my good looks. And my charm.” 
“Hmm, done.”
Eddie cackles. “That easy?” 
It was that easy for Steve to fall for Eddie, so.
“Yeah, to really seal the deal though, I suggest a kiss.” 
Eddie’s eyes widen. “A kiss? Seriously?” Steve nods. “Okay. Holy shit.”
And holy shit is right, Steve thinks, as Eddie gives him a short kiss. 
They pull away when Eddie’s walkie crackles- Dustin’s signal. 
“We’ll continue that after my party.” Eddie taps his finger against Steve’s lip.
“How do you-” 
“Robin.” Eddie says, sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll feign surprise. Now c’mon I gotta show Henderson my lightsaber!” He waggles his eyebrows. “And later, I’ll show you my other lightsaber.” 
Steve’s face matches the red lightsaber, which Eddie picks up before dragging him outside.
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thefreakandthehair · 3 days
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even better.
written for ‘birthday’ | wc: 290 | rated: teen & up | cw: n/a @steddiemicrofic special edition!
The first time Steve celebrates Eddie's birthday in 1986, all he could offer is a shoulder for Eddie to lean on as he'd scaled the stark, white walls of the hospital, making baby steps towards Wayne at the end of the hall.
Steve swore right then and there that 1987 would be better.
It's how he ends up hiding in a closet of the Munson's new double-wide a year later, a pun Robin points out as she whispers from their hiding spot. Steve shushes her as Nancy laughs softly through her nose next to Jonathan and Argyle, crammed in the corner of the hallway closet. Max and El's giggles can be heard from behind the couch, but Steve doesn't have time to poke his head out and shush them, too. At least Wayne's been quiet, hiding in his bedroom with a cake and trick candles.
The lock to the front door jingles with the familiar sound of Eddie's keys, followed by the cacophony of Hellfire Club. Dustin had been all too ready to jump onboard with Steve's plan to throw a surprise party, quickly gathering the rest of the club for an impromptu campaign that Steve's sure Eddie will still want to run despite the party.
Three, two, one…
"Happy birthday!"
Like clowns falling out of a clown-car, Eddie's surrounded.
"You... how did you... what the fuck?"
"Steve's idea," Robin smirks and wiggles her eyebrows.
He turns to Steve, wide eyed and slack-jawed. "You did this?"
"Yeah. You deserved it, y'know, after last year." Steve scratches his nose and shrugs.
He waits to give Eddie his gift until later, when it's just the two of them left. He kisses him between cigarettes and promises that 1988 will be even better.
happy birthday to @steddieas-shegoes!! please know that I had another hockey-related idea but try as I might, it was not gonna make the 290 word cut. hope you enjoy this instead!!
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strangererotica · 2 days
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
Steve Harrington x reader | sex in the shower with boyfriend!steve 🧡
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You woke to the sound of running water close by. As your eyes blinked open and drifted to the bathroom door, you noticed it had been left slightly ajar. Moist air drifted from inside, along with the woodsy, peppery scent of your boyfriend’s shampoo…
You grinned contentedly, remembering all the ways Steve had made love to you the night before. Stretching your arms and legs under the sheets, you felt a large, damp patch in the middle of the bed, and your smile grew wider. The image of Steve’s face between your thighs lingered in your mind…how handsome he’d looked, covered in your slick from his hairline to his chin. You’d squirted several times in a row as he ate you out, soaking not only Steve but apparently, saturating the sheets beneath you as well.
Memories of last night traveled straight from your mind to between your legs. Your cunt was still puffy and moist from Steve’s efforts the night before. He’d come inside you when he finished, and the combination of Steve’s release and yours was a sticky reminder between your thighs of the cum-soaked state he’d left you in…
You returned your focus to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, listening to the stream of water shift as Steve’s body moved under it. You decided that waiting any longer for him to fuck you again was not an option. Pulling back the sheets from your body, you tiptoed naked to the bathroom, and gently crept inside. The small room was warm and inviting, the air thick with moisture. You reached for the shower door, carefully sliding it so you wouldn’t startle Steve.
…When his hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you inside with him, a surprised little gasp escaped your lips, quickly followed by giggles as Steve pulled you close. His arms surrounded you in warmth, wrapping around your waist and pressing your chest to his. Steve’s back faced the shower head, droplets of water splashing from his broad shoulders and onto your breasts as he squeezed you closer.
The coarse hair on Steve’s chest looked even darker than usual, matted down with water and just beginning to curl. The friction it caused against your breasts felt incredible. Your nipples perked instantly, rising to meet the soaked nest of hair they were immersed in. Steve didn’t miss the way your eyes fluttered in a soft expression of bliss when he pressed his knee between your thighs, nudging your clit. Steve kept his knee locked there, his muscular thigh wedged flush against your cunt. He could feel your need, the way your pouty pussy throbbed against his skin in time with your heartbeat.
Steve’s lips met yours in a kiss that tasted of rain in the middle of Summer, fresh and warm as it melted between your lips. His tongue played tenderly with yours, gently stroking and caressing into your kiss. Your cunt wept greedily against Steve’s thigh, the evidence of your arousal dripping down his leg, mixing with the water and circling the drain.
Steve’s hands wandered up your back, his fingertips tickling your spine. The gesture made you shiver against him, your nipples perking even firmer, goosebumps dotting your skin. Steve’s lips ventured to your shoulders, kissing the goosebumps away, his fingers lacing delicately through your hair. He rocked his thigh against your cunt, pulling a desperate whimper from your throat.
“Steve,” you breathed, and he nodded in response, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “I know, baby,” he said, sliding one hand beneath your thigh. “You don’t have to say it; I already know…”
Steve lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, hoisting you up so your knee was bent over his elbow. With his free hand, he reached between your bodies and took hold of his cock. Rubbing his tip between your slick folds, Steve collected a generous amount of your cum on the head of his cock before pressing inside you, filling you whole.
The position gave Steve even deeper access to your cunt than usual; with his body bent slightly at the waist and your leg elevated to the level of his hip, Steve could fuck places inside you that more standard positions didn’t allow.
Your forehead was pressed to Steve’s chest, tears of relief burning behind your eyes as you squeezed them closed. Every upward punch of Steve’s hips hit a place so deep inside you, it felt like you were being stretched open for the first time, like losing a second virginity in part of you that hadn’t previously existed.
Steve’s eyes were glossy, his gaze fixed between your bodies, watching his cock disappear inside you. Your needy cunt swallowed Steve eagerly, sucking him like a vice. His thrusts began to grow desperate in pursuit of his climax, the heady burn of pleasure within Steve at its absolute peak.
With a groan of release, Steve erupted deep inside you, emptying against your cervix and painting your vagina in cum. Immediately after his orgasm, Steve went to his knees in front of you. He shoved his face between your thighs, hungrily probing your pussy. With his tongue buried in your cunt, Steve let you ride him to your own climax. You clutched Steve’s shoulders for support as you humped his face and bounced on his tongue till your orgasm was spilling through you in waves. Steve licked your vagina clean, sucking his cum from between your lips, peppering delicate kisses along your puffy cunt before rising to his feet, and taking you again into his arms.
A warm stream of water and cum dripped between your bodies as you held each other inside the shower. Tilting Steve’s face to yours, you teased his lips apart with your tongue. The sweet, salty flavor of your cum and Steve’s blended together as you explored each other in a deep, passionate kiss. Steve tugged your bottom lip between his, sucking lightly. When he released it, he was smiling, his pretty hazel eyes adoring you. “Let’s dry off and get back in bed,” Steve grinned mischievously. “So I can get you wet all over again…”
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juniperskye · 17 hours
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I Can’t Be Your Friend.
Sneak Peek: Eddie and you do something that alters the state of your friendship. You realize that being his friend hurts too much now. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts.
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
Angst/Fluff/implied Smut
Word count: 2473
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied smut, drug use (marijuana), explicit language, idiots in love, Steve’s absent parents, mention of underage drinking. Let me know if I missed any!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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Tonight was going to be amazing! Steve had invited everyone over for a summer kickoff party, there would be pizza, swimming, beer, and good company. Robin and you had gotten to Steve’s early to help set things up, pizzas were on the way, and you were just waiting for everyone to show up now.
First to arrive was Nancy, she had driven over with Mike, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. They had come bounding in with arms full of chips and soda, piling them recklessly on the coffee table. The younger kids were arguing about who got the bathroom first to change.
You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as you made your way to the door, letting in the next group. You had assumed it would be Johnathan, Argyle, and the rest of the kids, but instead, Eddie was standing in the doorway.
“Hey Eds!” You smiled.
“Hey! How’s my best girl?” Eddie pulled you into his arms and lifted you slightly as he spun you around. “I’ve missed you dude.”
“I’m good Eds. I’ve missed you too!” Your heart clenched slightly as he placed you back on your feet.
Your relationship with Eddie had always been like this. You were best friends, but sometimes, things were done or said that seemed a bit more than friendly. You’d stayed more nights with Eddie this last year than you did in your own home. Robin had pestered you about the status of your relationship with him to which you’d always reply; “We’re just friends, he doesn’t see me that way”.
“So, I know the kids are here, but I brought a little something special for us. I figured we could go to the van, take a few hits then come back in.” Eddie said wagging a joint in front of you.
“Eddie!” You hissed, covering the joint. “You can’t just pull that out. But yes, give me fifteen minutes.”
Eddie tucked the joint back into his jacket pocket and watched as you made your way over to Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Robin gave you a knowing look and you brushed her off. You were all catching up for a bit, laughing at the nonsense the kids were getting up to. Eddie was the one to open the door for Jonathan, Argyle, El, and Will. As they all walked in, Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head.
“You ready?” Eddie whispered.
You nodded and let him lead you outside to his van. Climbing in the back, you made yourself comfortable amongst the pile of blankets and pillows, all the while, Eddie lit the joint and placed it to his lips. After a few quick puffs and one long drag, Eddie passed it to you. The two of you passed the joint back and forth for a bit before it was nearly gone.
“Do you want the last hit?” Eddie asked.
“Nah it’s cool, you take it.” You leaned your head back.
“We could always share it.” Eddie said with a sly smirk.
“Okay.” You blushed.
Eddie took a long drag, holding it in as he moved towards you. He brought his lips to yours, only separated by a few millimeters. Your lips parted in a gasp, and he blew the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled sharply, allowing the smoke in. Your mind felt hazy, and you were starting to wonder if it was the weed or the lack of space between Eddie and you. Eddie met your eyes and pulled back slightly, clearing his throat.
What the hell was happening?
The two of you made your way back into the house and took turns changing into your bathing suits. You rushed outside and went to sit on the steps of the pool with Robin and Nancy. Each of whom gave you a pointed look.
Eddie made a stop in the kitchen to grab you a coke and an orange soda for himself, he then made his way outside. He sat the two cans in front of where you were sitting with the girls, the next thing you knew he was jumping into the pool, splashing the three of you, eliciting screeches from you three.
He surfaced and swam over to you, settling himself between your legs which were dangling off the step. His chest pressed against yours as he reached behind you to grab his soda. Your breath was caught in your throat.
Had he always been this beautiful?
Who were you kidding. Of course he had.
The night went on like this. The kids swimming, playing a ridiculous game of Marco-Polo, Steve grilling hamburgers and hotdogs, Eddie treating you like far more than a friend.
Now you were all crammed in Steve’s living room, some movie playing in the background. You couldn’t remember the name of it because you were far too distracted. When you had come into the living room, all the good seats had been taken, and instead of letting you sit on the floor, Eddie had pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your middle.
You had been sitting like this for about half an hour before he made the suggestion.
“Do you want to go back to my place?”
This typically wouldn’t have sounded like a line, but given everything that had occurred today, you couldn’t help but feel like his words held deeper meaning.
“Okay.”
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He led you into the trailer, just like any other time you’d been here, only this time there was a tension hanging over you.
More like sexual tension.
Jesus, get a hold of yourself.
Entering Eddie’s room brought forth a wave of anticipation, you couldn’t help but feel like something was about to happen. Eddie walked over to you and handed you one of his Iron Maiden shirts and a pair of his boxers.
It’s now or never.
You locked your eyes on Eddie’s as you slowly removed your tank top and shorts, leaving you clad in only your bathing suit. Eddie took a sharp breath and pulled his shirt over his head. Up until now things felt as though they’d been moving in slow motion, then all of a sudden things switched to fast forward.
Eddie lunged towards you and locked his lips onto your own, your hands finding his curls, his finding the ties to your swimsuit. His lips tasted like orange soda and nicotine, he was addicting, and you knew you’d never be able to give this up.
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Eddie woke up and glanced over to see your naked form curled up in his bed. He couldn’t believe it, the two of you had taken that leap, this would change everything between you.
This could change everything.
I can’t afford to lose her.
You stirred awake, noticing your lack of clothing, and taking note of the discarded clothing on the floor.
So that really did happen.
This could change everything!
“Hey.” Eddie said quietly.
“Hey.” You blushed.
You sat up holding the sheet to your chest and turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. Something was off about his expression, he seemed somber, and you were terrified to find out why.
“So, uh…” Eddie turned, breaking eye contact. “We should just forget this ever happened; you know. So, it doesn’t fuck up our friendship.”
Please say you don’t want to forget about it.
Of course he doesn’t want me.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Of course she doesn’t want me.
You stood and quickly began pulling your clothes on and gathering your things. There was this loud ringing in your ears and you’re sure Edie was calling your name, but all you knew was you needed to get out of there.
You were halfway home before the ringing stopped.
How could you be so stupid.
Then the tears started. Not only had your heart been broken by the man you loved, but you also lost the one person you’d want to hold you while you cried.
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“Dude what is up with you? You’ve been super weird since Steve’s summer kick-off party.” Robin pestered.
“Yeah she’s right, plus Eddie’s been extra bitchy, which usually only happens when you haven’t seen one another in a while. I thought for sure you guys were gonna hookup that night.” Steve ranted.
Your face turned a bright shade of red and you let your gaze fall to your lap. You knew you weren’t exactly being discreet with your avoidance of Eddie, but you didn’t’ think they’d call you out directly.
“Holy shit! You two had sex!” Robin shouted, smacking you on the arm.
“Ow! Yes, we did. And it ruined everything. The next morning, he suggested we just forget it ever happened.”
“What? No way, Eddie’s head over heels for you. What happened?” Steve asked.
You explained to Steve and Robin the events of the night and they both concluded that it made no sense. They were both convinced Eddie was in love with you.
This was when Steve and Robin came up with their plan. They would get you and Eddie together before summer ended.
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“Steve, this isn’t working. She is declining every invite to hangout; she has gone as far as driving over and leaving if she sees the van, and even calling everyone to be sure if Eddie was invited.” Robin said throwing herself on the couch in defeat.
“That’s it! We will invite her over for a movie night, just the three of us. Then after she’s here, you go to the other room and call Eddie and invite him over. That way nobody will be able to tell her that he’s invited because he wasn’t.” Steve explained.
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“Hey guys!” You called entering Steve’s house.
“Hey! How have you been? We haven’t seen you in a while.” Robin pulled you into a hug.
“Sorry about that, I just…I can’t bring myself to face him yet. I’ll get over it, I just need time.” You said.
Steve came in, greeting you and pulling you to the living room to help him pick a movie. He threw a wink over his shoulder to Robin. She rolled her eyes and made her way to Steve’s dad’s office ready to make the call. When she came to the living room she played it off as a trip to the bathroom.
Things were going well, they felt like old times, save for the hole in your chest in the shape of one, Eddie Munson.
Speaking of which.
“Hey guys!” Eddie greeted, entering the house.
“Guys, what the hell.” You said threw gritted teeth.
They both looked at you with guilty eyes. You shook your head and told them you needed to go. Grabbing your bag you went for the door. It took everything in you to not look at him.
“Hey, where are you going?” Eddie called after you, following you outside. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You’re dodging my calls, your canceling plans, you’re literally leaving as I showed up to hang out.”
“Eddie, I can’t do this right now. I need to go.”
“So what? That’s it?” He had never sounded so defeated.
“Eddie, I…”
“Is this because of that night? C’mon you’re my best friend, you’re just gonna throw that all away?” He grasped your hand in his own.
“That’s the problem Eddie, I can’t be your friend anymore. Everything is different now.” You shook your head, pulled your hand from his grasp, and took off walking back home.
Eddie walked back into the house and immediately receive a slap to the back of the head from Robin. She and Steve proceeded to explain to Eddie how he had messed the whole thing up and how him suggesting you just “forget it ever happened” had led you to believe that he didn’t care about you.
Initially he didn’t believe them that you had feelings for him, but after they literally spelled it out for him, he realized what an idiot he had been.
“I’m gonna need your help.”
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The plan had been a pretty difficult one, Eddie needed Robin and Steve to convince you to come over again for an end of summer bash and after the last time, he was sure you’d say no.
Robin had explained to you that after your conversation with Eddie, that he definitely wouldn’t be coming. She told you that she asked him, and he had declined. It was then that you agreed, but not without a pang of guilt filling your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Eddie. The look on his face when you told him you couldn’t be his friend had been haunting you.
The day came and you drove over to Steve’s, shocked that the only car in the driveway had been his. You parked and let yourself in.
“Steve? Where is everyone?”
“Hey! I’m in my room, and they’re on their way I figured you could come early so I could see how you were doing.” Steve said.
You walked into his room and noticed he was seemingly searching for something, he was scrambling around his room, swiftly moving to his dresser as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. You looked over at him just in time to see a mess of curls enter and Steve pulling the door closed. You heard the lock click and the distinct sound of a chair being pushed against the knob.
“What the hell is this?”
“I needed to find a way to talk to you and you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Eddie, let me out.”
“Not until we talk. Look I fucked up that night, I suggested that we forget about it and that was stupid.” He exclaimed.
“Eds, look, I just need time…these feelings will go away eventually. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, but how am I supposed to be around you when I’ve tasted your kiss and will never get to experience that again?”
“I don’t want your feelings to go away. Truth is, I only suggested it because I thought there was no way you could love me back.” Eddie explained.
“You love me?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Eddie pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair. There were whispered apologies between kisses and you two only broke apart when the two of you needed air.
“How would you like to go get some dinner?” Eddie asked.
“I would love that!” You replied.
With that, Eddie walked over to the bedroom door and began knocking, shouting to Steve that he was safe to let you guys out. His knocks sped up the longer it took for Steve to release you both.
“Harrington, hurry up! I gotta take my girlfriend on our first date!”
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sparklyslug · 2 days
Text
wager all the hazards of love • @strangerthingsreversebigbang
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Read on ao3 here
Words: 15,500 Archive Warnings: none apply Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunninham, Beemer the Dog, Vecna Tags: Tam Lin inspired AU, folklore AU, fae AU
“I’ve been bringing my flock over these hills for years,” Steve offers. “It’s nice, this close to Hallow’s Eve, around here. The apples,” he gestures towards the stranger with one of them, and takes a big bite. “The leaves changing color,” he says, spitting bits of apple inelegantly into the fire. They pop and sizzle when they hit the flames, briefly filling the air with a spiced, earthy smell. 
“This close?” The stranger looks at him, eyebrows raised. He’s got such an expressive face, Steve almost wants to seize him by the cheeks and see how he can stretch it, press it, what shapes it might make in his hands. “How close?”
“To Hallow’s Eve?” Steve loses track of days out here, so he has to retrace the last few sunsets, how many of them have passed since he last waved goodbye to Robin as he brought out the flock. “I don’t know… a week? Little less?”
“That soon,” the man says quietly. Stares into the fire, expressive face gone still. “Almost out of time.”
Art here by @hereforanepilogue Fic here by @sparklyslug Beta Reader: @greenlikethesea For @strangerthingsreversebigbang
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There's Such a Sad Love (Deep in Your Eyes) - Chap 3
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Eddie’s gonna kill him.
Not even exaggerating, he’s gonna kill Steve dead.
How hard is it to wake the fuck up? His dumb flat phone has been ringing for the last three hours!
…Okay, fine.. Eddie doesn’t know exactly how long it’s been ringing, but when you’re used to head-achingly constant quiet, any interruption becomes a nuisance immediately.
“Hello?”
“Fucking finally.” Eddie grumbles when Steve finally stirs enough to answer the phone.
“I’m sorry?” Steve says to the person on the other end of the line.
“I forgive you.” he grouses.
“No, no, I got that, but you were supposed to be here tomorrow, not today!” he struggles off the sagging air mattress and into his jeans, not even bothering to button them.
“Shit, shit, okay, yep, I’ll be here, I’ll—” His voice gets louder “Yes! Deliver! I’ll be here! Alright, bye.” 
He tosses the phone onto the sagging mattress and scrubs his face with his palms, mumbling “Stupid fucking phone signal..”
Eddie follows Steve out the bedroom door and down the stairs into the kitchen.
He smiles to himself when Steve stops in the doorway; He’d worked all night to get the damn cabinets open again.
“Good morning, Mr. Ghost… Ms. Ghost? Ghost Friend.” is what he finally lands on, unfreezing from the doorway and grabbing a can of something from the fridge.
Eddie breezes past him a bit too close, just barely brushing against him. Steve shudders against the chill. “I’m not sure if that’s a ‘Hello’ or a ‘Get the fuck out of here’.”
In response, Eddie pushes the sleep-mussed fringe of his bangs back off his forehead.
Steve smiles. “Hello...” Then he seems to remember something, “Oh, hey, the delivery guys are coming with my stuff soon.” He pauses a moment, “I’m guessing you’re gonna try something, but can you please not cause any injuries at least? I don’t want any more ghost-y roommates.”
“Aw man, but I do!” Eddie groans.
Steve tilts his head to listen to the quiet of the house for a few seconds, then calls out again. “Can you make some sort of noise so I know you aren’t gonna kill anyone?”
Eddie rolls his nonexistent eyes, “Sure, handsome, anything for you,” and knocks his knuckles on the open cabinet door beside Steve’s head.
Steve startles at the noise, “Jesus fuck! I’d also like to not die today, thanks.” he says, adding on a grumbled “Give me a damn heart attack, why don’tcha..” as he starts back toward the front of the house.
A laugh escapes him and Steve falters, stopping a couple steps away and turning back toward the kitchen.
If his word meant anything, he’d swear that Steve looks right at him.
His laughter stutters to a stop, and Steve shakes his head minutely as if to shake off a thought.
‘Did he hear me laughing?’
“....No, he couldn’t have, it’s way too early..” Eddie answers himself.
He watches until Steve’s out of sight, then floats through the hallway wall and into the closet under the stairs.
It’s one of Eddie’s favorite places in the house; small and quiet, and the place he feels most..solid (the most real?)..no matter what time of year it is. It gives him time to breathe, ironically, and no matter how untethered he might feel after Halloween, he feels like himself again here.
He’s done some long, complicated ciphering about why over the years, and he thinks the stairs and closet are positioned right over where his bedroom used to be in his and Wayne's trailer. He can get his thoughts together here, can think the clearest.
There's some commotion from outside his closet, so Eddie pops his head through the door to watch Steve and the moving company travel back and forth between the front door and the rest of the house.
Looks like he was in the closet longer than he thought (There’s definitely a gay joke here somewhere, Eddie thinks to himself), the hired team of movers are here and already carting in boxes and pieces of furniture.
Steve is helping the movers for some reason, carrying boxes further into the house, and Eddie finds his way back to the man’s side without even thinking about it.
Suddenly, Steve yells, “Nope! I have to do some work on the place, so everything but the bedframe and mattress can go in here!” in response to some question Eddie hadn’t heard. “The master is up the stairs, last door on the right. That one big dresser with the mirror can go there, too.”
“Hope you have some help lined up after they leave, pretty boy. You know I can’t help you.”
“I think I do, actually. Some kids already asked to help with the house anyway, so.”
“...What?”
“What?” one of the movers echoes.
Steve sets down the box he was carrying (‘clothes’ according to the large marker letters on one side) and turns back to the mover, confused. “I’ll have help to move it all again after I’m done with the remodels.”
“That’s..great man, good for you.” he says, equally confused.
Eddie’s frozen. “Okay, what the fuck.”
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Steve can’t help but help the movers; he carries in some of the unimportant boxes, and grabs up the important ones he’d labeled when he packed up everything. Which was also something he couldn’t help but do even though the company he hired would pack and unpack his things as part of the cost anyway.
One of the five man team asks him about putting his furniture in their respective rooms, at least.
“Nope! I have to do some work on the place, so everything but the bedframe and mattress can go in here!” he calls back, carrying the couple of boxes of clothes in his arms into the foyer to the right of the front door, “The master is up the stairs, last door on the right. That one big dresser with the mirror can go there, too.” he calls over his shoulder
“Hope you have some help lined up after they leave, pretty boy. You know I can’t hel...”
Steve huffs in irritation, why are they trying to talk to him while walking away? “I think I do, actually. Some kids already asked to help with the house anyway, so.” he calls back to where the voice seemed to be retreating to.
“What?” the mover asks, sounding closer again.
Steve sets down the box of clothes he carried in, and turns back to the man who’s looking at him like he’s grown another head. “I’ll have help to move it all again after I’m done with the remodels.”
“That’s..great man, good for you.”
“You’re the one who asked..” Steve grumbles to himself when the guy walks back out to the truck.
There’s not much in the moving truck, so while the team is bringing in the larger pieces, he borrows one of them to help him empty his little trailer so he can take it back that afternoon.
The crew is done within the hour, and Steve sees them off, following them down the drive and turning to head into town. He stops in at the deli across from Melvald’s for lunch, and heads into the one internet provider’s office in town to set up his services (which was as easy as flipping the proverbial switch to turn them on, very nice), then heads to the hardware store because of course there wasn’t already a washer and dryer in the house.
Getting delivery scheduled for his new washer and dryer ends up taking forever, and it’s already late afternoon by time he’s done, so Steve heads back out to the big box store for groceries, heads home to eat Joyce's leftovers, showers, puts some sheets on his bed, then (finally) calls Robin..
“Finally got interwebs hooked up?” her forehead says in lieu of a ‘Hello?’ (that’s the only thing he can see on his screen at the moment).
“Yep, didn’t take too long, luckily, and good news for me: apparently the people who built this place decided to put in fiber cords? Which is really good I guess?” he says, flopping down onto his mattress on his stomach.
“Uh, yeah, that’s real good Dingus; Fiber is still one of the better things for internet connections, so congrats! You lucked out.”
“Then the guy at the hardware store took forever to schedule my laundry shit to be delivered, so I’m out a washer and dryer until next week. Yay.” he deadpans to her forehead (still the only thing he can see).
“But you’re settled in better now, right? At least now you can get started on that DIY board you’ve been hoarding onto since you first saw the place.”
“That's true, that’s true,” he concedes, swapping his video call app out for the one that holds all his inspiration boards, “This place is going to be amazing once I’m done with it.”
“I thought you already thought it was amazing.”
“No, no, it is..it’s just..” he pauses, scrolling down the hundreds of ideas he’d saved for just this moment…all of them not quite right. Even the simplest color palettes he’d liked look drab and boring when he thinks about actually using any of them on the house.
“None of it fits anymore, does it.”
Steve snorts out a laugh, “None! How is that even possible? What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“What indeed..how in the world are you supposed to start changing things if you don’t even know what color paint your ghost roomie likes? What if they start haunting you even more after you paint the dining room sage instead of mustard??”
“Right?! He likes metal music for fucks sake, I can’t paint my whole house red and black or whatever just so he doesn’t haunt the fuck outta me!”
Robin’s silent for a moment, then “Wait, backup. One, how do you know he likes metal music, and two, ‘he’? How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”
“Oh my god! So much has happened, listen,” Steve explains everything to her, shifting onto his back as he does.
He tells her about the kids (“You better take them up on the offer, Dingus, that’s a lot of help.”), the girl Max who said “He likes metal music.”, the way his speaker turned down on its own when he asked ‘Jeeves’ to, the damn acknowledging knock he’d heard when Steve asked the entity not to hurt any of the movers as they brought in all his stuff.. All of it.
“I even heard a laugh, Robin. A goddamn laugh! It’s definitely a ghost.”
“Okay. Yep. That’s it, I’m never coming to visit. Mm-mph. Nope. No way.”
“Oh yeah, and the Hawkins Chief of Police said it might be a murderer!”
“Ah! What?! Steve. Steven. Steeb. You need to move. Pack up all your shit and get the fuck back here.”
He only partially heard her; Now he’s focusing on trying to look up any murders here in Hawkins over the years.
“Are you listening to me, Dingus?”
“Huh–yeah, yeah of course I am.”
“No you’re not, I can see you thinking.” Steve hears her type something into her phone. “The Creel murders, a death by rabid dog, death to cancer…”
“Are you reading the same things I am?”
“...No?”
“Uh huh, sure–ah ha! Listen, listen, listen,” Steve exclaims, sitting up and crossing his legs in the middle of his bed. “‘Hawkins High cheerleader, 18, found deceased at Forest Hills trailer park. Authorities say she was found by a resident of the park along with another body late on the night of the 31st. There is no further information at this time.’.”
“....Holy shit..holy shit..Ah! Okay, I found some more, Halloween, 1986... Uh….” she trails off, mumbling along as she reads. “This one says it’s called the ‘Forest Hills Murder’, and that there was, quote, ‘one suspect, two bodies, and conviction for one count of second degree murder.’.”
“Second degree?”
“Means that it wasn’t planned beforehand.”
Steve hums in understanding, continuing to scroll. “Why are there no names! I want to know who my ghost is, dammit!”
“Maybe…you should go to the library? Does Hawkins have a library? Maybe they’ll have old papers or something.”
“Yeah, it’s basically smack dab in the center of town....Do you think I should go to the library?”
“I think you should go to the library.”
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That night, Steve once again dreams of that vast black place. He opens his eyes to it, and instead of being scared like last time, he’s somehow…comforted by it. 
The loud splash of water that comes from his right, however, makes him jump.
“Hi!” the girl with the ponytail says, bouncing to a stop in front of him.
“Uh, hi? I saw you last time, I think…Who are you?”
“I’m Chrissy!” she grins, her smile bright yet slightly crooked.
“Hi Chrissy, I’m Steve, uhm…what the hell is going on? Why are you in my dream?”
“I assume it’s because I died at Forest Hills.” She shrugs, as if it was the most benign news in the world.
Steve blinks at her in the darkness, takes in her uniform– “Oh my god, you’re the cheerleader who died! Are you–are you my ghost?” It’d be a surprise if Chrissy was a metal fan, but who’s he to judge? Maybe Max got the ghosts’ pronouns wrong? 
Chrissy waves him off with a laugh, “Oh, no, I’m not,”
“Wait, are they the one who killed you? I better not be living with a murderer ghost..”
She looks appalled at that, “Absolutely not! Where on earth did you even get that idea?”
“I’ve only read a little bit about the–your case so far, and all it said was that there were two bodies.” Steve scratches at the back of his neck nervously. What kind of protocol is there for talking to a dead girl about her death? “Rumor has it that the second one was the person who killed you. That your boyfriend killed him right after…?”
The cheerleader is silent, gazing at him sadly. 
“His name is Eddie.”
There’s a pull in Steve’s gut at the name. 
“Who’s name, your murderer? Your boyfriend?” She’s fading into the darkness that surrounds them, and Steve knows he must be waking up. “Please, tell me!”
Chrissy’s mouth moves, but Steve’s already falling out of his dream.
Groggily, he reaches for his phone, 6:04am. 
He huffs as he flops back against his pillows, but freezes in the next moment.
Out the door to his bedroom from where he’s laying, he can see part way down the hall and the last half of the staircase where it comes up to the second floor.
And what he sees glide up the steps onto the landing out of sight is what freezes him to his spot.
It was barely there, but there nonetheless. A shadow, just dark enough to be seen in the low light of the morning, the dark of it standing out against the pale cream of the wall next to the steps.
His heart hammers in his chest, his brain screaming ‘Holy shit, holy shit, he IS real, oh my god there’s a real life ghost in my house.’ at him (Wait, duh. You already knew this?? You heard the speaker lower on its own, you felt that cold breeze, heard that laugh?? He thinks, his thoughts rambling on without him.) when the shadow reappears, drifting into view in his doorway and it itself freezing under Steve’s gaze.
The shadow is still only just barely visible; not freakishly tall, Steve figures it’s about his own height, actually, and the edges of it flicker and move.
Heart still pounding, Steve speaks, his voice coming out in barely a whisper. “Eddie?”
As soon as the name is out of his mouth, the shadow disappears, looking both like it was swept away by an invisible breeze, and as if it dropped straight into the floor.
“Holy shit!”
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After throwing together a whole two pieces of toast for breakfast, and leaving the strips of color he thought to pick up while at the hardware store out for his roommate with a note, Steve takes himself and the name Eddie with him to Hawkins Public Library.
His hopes of scouring old newspapers and records seem at least ten times more likely when he steps over the threshold and immediately feels like sneezing at the smell of the dusty old books around him.
He steps up to the front counter, “Good morning Mrs….” Steve leans in closer to read her name tag; ‘Claudia Henderson - she/her!’ is printed onto the plastic tag in permanent marker and punctuated with a fading yellow smiley face sticker “…Henderson—Henderson? Why does that sound familiar?”
“I’m not sure, hon–”
“HEY MOM!”
They both startle at the sudden yell, turning towards the noise; Dustin, that kid with the cap that had harassed him on his driveway yesterday, is running towards the front counter. 
‘Ah. Henderson.’
Mrs. Henderson tsks at her son, “Dustybuns, this is a library! Use your inside voice.” 
“Where’s th–Steve!”
Steve smiles at the kid, “Hey bud,”
“What’re you doing here?” he questions, then his face brightens exponentially. “Are you looking for stuff about ghosts?”
“Dusty, you know better than to ask that,” she chides, “What people are looking for at the library is no one’s business but their own.”
Dustin, however, chooses to ignore this. “It’s ghosts, isn’t it? Hang on, I know of a couple books that might help you!” 
Both Steve and Claudia attempt to stop him, “Dusty, wait—!”, “No, I’m oka—”, but Dustin’s already disappearing between two tall shelves.
“Damn, he’s quick.”
Claudia sighs, “I’m sorry about him, hon, he just gets super excited about whatever thing he’s fixated on at the moment.”
“It’s alright, Ms. Henderson, I know he means well.” Steve says with a smile.
“Well, let’s get you settled then, you need a library card, I assume?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She gets him set up with a card (‘Harrington? Oh, you must be Patty’s grandson! Oh, I’ve heard so much about you; your gran and I were in the same knitting club, you know.”), then points out an empty table by one of the front windows he can use if he’d like. Where each section is, what their return policy is and about the book reserve program, then finishes with a warm “Let me know if you need any help, Steve dear.”
“Actually, can you tell me where you keep your newspapers?”
She hmms thoughtfully for a moment, “Well, that depends on if you want the actual papers, or if you would like to scroll through them on the microfilm…what are you looking for, exactly?”
“I’m looking for information on the house I just bought? I’ve been told there was a death on the property previously and I wanted to look into it if I could. Library seemed like the best bet.”
“Oh, that’s just terrible! Sure, hon, let's get you set up at one of our machines and you can scroll through whatever year you’re looking for,” she beckons him to follow to another long row of desks. There are a couple other people with name tags like Claudia’s sitting at the computers behind it. “Do you have a timeframe?”
“Mid-80s I think?”
“Let me see what I can find for you,” Claudia nods, sitting down at a large white machine.
She shows him how to operate the clunky device, then disappears through a ‘Staff Only’ door.
Steve’s alone at the machine for five whole seconds before Dustin finds him.
“There you are! Okay, here, these are my favorites on the subject,” he hands him a small stack of books with mostly dark covers, one even has a lenticular image of a fanged skull, “These are a couple that are more fanatical,” two more are added to the pile, “and these two are more scientific in nature.”
He keeps ahold of the last two, stepping to the side to reach for and slide a chair from another machine next to Steve’s. “Are they a poltergeist too?  Are you trying to get rid of them? If so, I’ll need to pull some material on exorcisms too. Do you know why they would be sticking around? We need to figure out what their unfinished business might b—”
“Dustin! Dude!” Steve cuts him off with a laugh, “What happened to “Hey Steve.”, “Didja get unpacked already?”, “How’re your projects coming along, Steve?”...I just got here, my guy, lemme breathe for a second.”
Dustin rolls his eyes, “Did you figure out what colors your ghost likes?”
Steve rolls his eyes, “No, not yet. I put some out for him, so we’ll see if he decides to get rid of any.”
Claudia returns then, “Okay, here you are, sweetheart—Dusty! What’d I tell you about bothering Steve!”
“I’m not bothering him!” Dustin complains at the same time Steve says, “It’s been non-stop.”
The kid shoves at Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, shut up!”
He mimes nearly falling off his chair, “Do you see this, Ms. Henderson? I am being harassed in a public library.” he manages to say before breaking out into a grin.
“Shut up, asshole!” Dustin laughs.
“You shut up, buttface.”
“Okay, okay, settle down you two, Now Steve, do you have anywhere we can start? A date?” Claudia asks, loading up the first film in her small stack.
“I have one,” Steve nods, giving Dustin a final playful shove and reaching into his back pocket. “This article I found about the trailer park that used to be there?” He shows her his phone, open to the article from last night.
She scans it, then nods, scrolling on through the first film. “I say we check obituaries first, see if anyone sticks out? Then we can try birth announcements.”
“Would they have had an announcement printed if he was a murderer though?”
She looks at her son curiously.
“What?”
“Dustin is convinced there is a ghost on the property from the death there,” Steve explains as if he doesn’t already believe it himself, “And apparently the stories of the place include a possible murderer.”
“That’s why we need to figure out who it was so we can get him outta Steve’s house!”
“Well…” she gives them both another odd look, “Everybody has someone; this person’s someone may have had them printed as well.”
The first film ends up being the one they needed, for Chrissy at least.
“Here’s your cheerleader, Steve.” Claudia gestures to the machine’s screen. Half the front page of the Hawkins Post from November 1st, 1986 is dedicated to her. 
The crooked smile, the bangs, the ponytail. “That’s her alright. It’s gotta be.”
Dustin squished in from Steve’s left to read the tiny text. “‘Chrissy Cunningham, 18, was found dead early this morning by local 440 chapter president Wayne Munson at his home in the Forest Hills mobile home park.”
“‘Wayne Munson.’, Who’s Wayne Munson?”
“Not sure, but he’s involved somehow. Write that down.”
“‘Police say they have one of two suspects in custody, the other was found dead alongside Ms. Cunningham.’.”
“That’s gotta be the ones, remember? She died and the boyfriend found the guy right after!”
From there, it’s easy to find the information for one Jason Carver.
“Is he the guy?” Dustin squints closer at the small yearbook picture. “Wait, if he’s the boyfriend, then he’s the murderer! Then who’s this other guy…?”
“What about Eddie, is there anything about anyone with that name?” Both Hendersons give Steve curious looks, “I was given that name from…a reliable source.” Very reliable. 
“Why don’t we go back to that Wayne fella,” Claudia says, standing from the machine to move behind a computer nearby. “If it was his trailer she was found in, maybe the other person has something to do with him?”
She clicks into her computer and starts to type at an alarming rate.
Steve glances over to Dustin, who’s wearing a bewildered look. He turns around in his chair, “Thanks for helping with this, Ms. Henderson.”
“Yeah mom, I didn’t know you would be this interested in something like this.”
“Oh pshh,” she scoffs, “Who doesn’t love a good mystery? Now, read off that last name again?”
“Munson, M-U-N-S-O-N.”
“Let’s see…says here that Wayne was President of our Local 440 branch until…oh, 1986.”
“What’s that?” Steve and Dustin ask in tandem.
“The 440 is the local union! Some of those guys come through here twice a month for their book club.”
Steve takes the name to his phone, typing in ‘wayne munson + indiana’. “‘New UA President Elected!’, obituary, oh! There’s a birth here…and it has a paywall.”
Claudia rolls her eyes and mutters a low “Of course,” then louder, “Let's find it here then, what’s the date?”
He gives her the date, a Friday in mid June 1966, and she sets up the corresponding microfilm roll, scrolling into the birth announcements.
“Ah, here it is: ‘Beloved former Miss Indiana and Hawkins native Elizabeth Munson (ne’ Johnson) and husband Albert Munson welcomed a bouncing baby boy to the world this past Saturday. ‘I am just plumb overjoyed,’ Wayne Munson, Al’s older brother and well-known face of Hawkins’ local branch of UA 440 said Saturday evening. Both mother and little Theodore Munson are happy and healthy after their short hospital stay.’. That’s just lovely, I didn’t know Hawkins had a Miss Indiana!” 
“But that’s Theodore though, not Eddie. Did she have any other kids?”
“Uhhh..” Steve draws out, typing ‘elizabeth munson miss indiana’ into his phone. “No, just the one son apparently..” He reads further, “Says she died in 1974 due to ovarian cancer.”
“Damn.”
“Poor Teddy..”
“Teddy?”
“Well sure, short for Theodore?” Claudia tsks sympathetically, “He was so young when she died..”
“Poor kid, I can’t imagine.”
“Wait! Teddy, Eddie!”
“Huh?”
“I dunno, maybe that’s your connection? Theodore to Teddy to Eddie. Maybe Wayne’s nephew is your Eddie?”
It took some more searching, but Dustin was right on the money; Steve finds the first mention of both names in a 1982 Hawkins High yearbook under a black and white picture of five teens in the book’s club section.
“‘Theodore “Eddie” Munson (far left), leader of Hawkins High’s newest club, Hellfire, with fellow sophomores Ronnie Ecker, Jeff Monroe, Frank Zuiwiski, and freshman Gareth Emerson.’.” Steve reads off. “‘The tabletop, pen-and-paper game Dungeons and Dragons (“D&D?” Dustin yells, attempting to pull the book from his hands, making Steve twist around in his chair to avoid him.) is the club’s main focus and is largely math based.’.”
Dustin pulls the yearbook from Steve’s hands as soon as he’s finished reading. “How did I not know Hawkins had a D&D club?!”
“Oh my god, my ghost is a nerd.”
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“What the fuck?? What the fuck??”
Eddie had not expected Steve to be awake when he drifted upstairs that morning. Nor did he have any inkling that the man would whisper out a trembling “Eddie?” when he arrived at his door.
It’s only March, how in the hell can Steve even see him?
He sounded so scared too… damn it!  He only just got here and now Eddie’s gone and ruined everything.
Instead of bright sparkling happiness or burning hot rage, a deadening, sinking, cold melancholy seeps into his core. The dreadful feeling sinks him further down into the house, all the way to, and into, the floor of his closet under the stairs.
Eddie stays hidden away while Steve shuffles around that morning and for two mornings after that. He’s aware of the living man’s movements through the creaks of the floorboards and hinges as he goes about his day each day, unpacking boxes and accidentally cutting his finger, shocking himself when he sets up his fancy-ass TV in the master bedroom, listens when he sings along to the Spoofy he’s been playing for Eddie and some of his own modern-sounding songs.
But Eddie doesn't make an appearance.
For three days, he wallows, alone.
Late into the night of the second day, well, early in the morning on the third, technically, the Moon reaches to him, asks him what is wrong.
It’s still dark outside, the sky just beginning to lighten, when he leaves his confines and breezes out onto the back balcony.
He notices belatedly that were are boxes and dropcloths littered around the great room as he passed through it; seems like Steve had been busy.
Again, the moon reaches softly to him, What are you afraid of? her soft hold on him asks, the encouragement bleeding through her glow over him evident.
“My heart may be dead and gone, but that doesn’t mean I want it broken.”
He regrets his words immediately, her amusement at his slip up skitters all along the planks of Steve’s balcony.
“Nononono no, not like that, he doesn’t–I don’t–He just…” why is he trying to lie to her? “Okay, so what if I have a big fat crush on him? ‘Ooh everyone look the lovesick dead guy’,” he mocks. “It’s not like jack shit can happen, so what if I do? It’s only a stupid crush anyway.”
Eddie listens to the sounds of the night as the sky lightens a couple shades more, the Moon’s continued amusement apparent to none but him.
Her jovial mood dies off after a shade or so more, then turns questioning once again, though tired, apparent from her low seat in the sky.
Eddie’s gut twists, “He could see me…Why can he see me already?”
The confusion persists, a new drop of encouragement comes and goes.
“I’m sure I scared him with the…” he gestures to the wispy all of him, “I don’t want to freak him out more…”
She grows exasperated with him; Eddie can picture his late Uncle’s good-natured eye roll and practically hear the fond tongue-click behind her new irritation.
“What? What’d I say?”
The Moon all but bowls him over with one more blast of encouragement before she disappears behind the trees and under her sister’s glow.
Eddie huffs out a sigh. Message received…
Eventually, later in the morning, the stairs above him creak with Steve’s weight, and Eddie listens to him hum as he passes outside his door toward the kitchen.
He’s there for a little bit, probably eating something? Then the sound of Dio filters down the hall to him. 
Steve started the Spoofy for him again.
Soon after, the door into the garage opens and closes, and only after the garage door itself shudders to a stop, does Eddie leave his spot.
He wanders the house, taking in everything Steve had moved, or even torn off in his absence (“That wallpaper really was horrible, good on ya Steve.”), but eventually ends up back in the kitchen, thinking this time he’ll open a couple drawers for Steve instead of his usual cupboard fuckery, show him he’s back in action in a “Didja miss me?” type way, but stops short when he notices something laid out on the counter beside the speaker.
Color swatches. 
There’s a couple shades of green, some blues, a deep red, and even a bright sunshine yellow laid out with a slip of lined paper.
Eddie eases forward, clipping into the countertop as he does, to read the note.
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He stares dumbly at it for what feels like weeks.
Steve wants to know what he thinks? What Eddie would pick? Why? This is Steve’s house, why does his opinion matter?
‘It’s because he likes you.’ his not-actually-there brain tells him
“No the fuck he doesn’t, I’m dead. A ghost. I’m a nuisance at best.”
‘He knew your name.’
That happy sparking feeling returns, shooting through where his heart would be.
“He knew my name.”
Bright yellow flashes in his chest briefly. 
How did Steve figure that one out?
‘He said your name.’ he thinks to himself, then the sound of Steve saying his name starts to cycle across his thoughts.
“Eddie?”, “Eddie?”, “Eddie?”, “Eddie?”....over and over again until it stops sounding like a real word.
“Eddie.” Steve says, his tone no longer questioning, but welcoming.
“Eddie.” Steve’s smiling this time.
“Eddie..” Steve’s happy to see him.
It takes him a handful of minutes each time, but he manages to flip over about half of the colors Steve had laid out.
“I must be outta my mind,” Eddie grumbles, glowing bright in the middle of the kitchen.
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It took three days for Eddie to tell Steve what colors he doesn’t like. 
He left the swatches alone until something was done to them but eventually, on the morning of the third day since he’d put them out (after more decisions about where he’d use each if they weren’t vetoed, deciding which room he’d tackle first (the kitchen), and getting the rest of his furniture and TV situated in his room), Steve comes downstairs to find three of the blue shades and one each of the green, red, and grays flipped over on the countertop.
He smiles down at them as he eats his bowl of cereal; he’s not sure where his ghostly roommate is right now, so he sets down his bowl, fishes a pen out of his junk drawer, and adds a line to his note
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<- prev | next ->
i can't believe i didn't do this on the first part, but tagging everyone who was interested in reading the whole fic from my first post w this concept!! (i think some of you already found pt 1 though!!): @gothwifehotchner @puppy-steve @babydollbaron @a-bun-danceoflove @after-the-end-times @mightbeasleep @shapeofaperson @val-from-lawrence @madigoround @steviebats @nburkhardt @scoops-stevie @kas-eddie-munson @i-less-than-threee-you @milf-harrington @khalesprix @matchingbatbites
and also tagging those interested on the last part <3: @little-birch-boy
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steddieficrec · 3 days
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Hear About It Later by beetlesandstars
(1/1 I 4,334 I Mature)
Robin giggles abruptly. “You are so not beating the slut allegations.”
“I’m not planning on beating the slut allegations,” Steve points out. “I’m trying to prove them, actually.”
(When Steve unceremoniously gets slut-shamed, he makes a plan. It's not a very good plan.)
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hobbyistauthor · 15 hours
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well. this is... something.
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first wip snippet for part ten and it's. well.
you can see for yourself, i suppose. (//▽//)
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“You’re a handful, aren’t you?” Steve had said, a fistful of Eddie’s hair clenched between thick fingers. His body had been directly in Eddie’s space and surrounding him with the scent of Steve. His words were cutting but somehow so, so honeyed to his ears. That spicy-sweet-scented wrist was pressed against his fangs yet again, and Eddie had felt a trickle of drool finally escape his parted lips to roll down his chin and neck. Steve had ignored it, dark eyes focused intently on his face. “Drink, Little Riot.” And drink Eddie did. Right there on his knees, he’d sunk his fangs into the thin skin of Steve’s wrist, pulling a breathy sound from his Stars’ lips that sounded like absolution to his ears, and drank of him, luxuriating in the blessing he’d been granted. Steve always tasted like Habital sin, like divine favor–an incredible delicacy, impossible to explain–heaven on his tongue and slithering down his throat to settle in his stomach; an empyrean boon from the single deity-made-flesh whose altar he would ever deign to worship at.
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Wanna read what's already available?
Part I ┊ Part II ┊ Part III ┊ Part IV ┊ Part V ┊ Part VI ┊ Part VII ┊ Part VIII ┊ Part IX
or you can follow the #Take Me Home steddie fic tag! (i made it clickable, for conveniences' sake)
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lokis-army-77 · 6 months
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
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Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.” 
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 
And then the live is over. 
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 
He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’ 
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 
"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer. 
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
… 
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised. 
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 
“Hi, Sweetheart.” 
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise. 
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg. 
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 
“Yeah?” You whisper. 
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 
9K notes · View notes
galaxy-siren · 3 months
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Are You Together?
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Request: Hi! Could I please request an Eddie x fem!reader where they are like best friends and they're like "all but dating." And maybe it takes place around the time when Dustin, Mike, and Lucas join Hellfire and after a couple of weeks, one of them finally asks if Eddie and reader are dating and Eddie gets all blushy because he's been in love with her since she joined Hellfire. And reader tells the boys that they're friends because Eddie rejected her when she asked him out and then Eddie is just like "WHAT?????"
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: little bit of fluff, friends to lovers, all but dating, some curse words
AN: This was an anonymous request! Sorry this took a minute to get to, but I hope you enjoy it!
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Dustin, Lucas, and Mike were confused. They had recently joined Hellfire, Eddie had taken them under his wing and promised to help make high school at least somewhat tolerable for them, and so far they were loving Eddie’s sadistic campaigns. However, there was something the three of them couldn’t quite figure out, were you and Eddie dating?
It seemed like you were, but they couldn’t tell for sure. The two of you were practically attached at the hip, one never seen without the other. They knew that the two of you had been friends for years and knew everything about each other. You even finished each other’s sentences sometimes. There was a natural fluidity to everything the two of you did, which was obvious to everyone.
There was not so subtle flirting and witty back and forth banter between you two. One of you would always compliment the other or go along with a bit the other started. There were also many inside jokes. Sometimes all either of you had to do was look at the other and you both would burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
You even engaged in PDA. Hugs were constant, the two of you would hold hands a lot, Eddie would even allow you to play with his rings and his hair. This was something that became second nature, you wouldn’t even be aware that you were doing it, and neither did Eddie, he would just unconsciously lean into your touch.
However, the boys had never seen the two of you kiss. Which was what gave them doubts that you were dating.
“Come on, if they were dating, they would be all over each other,” Mike said as the three of them walked over to their lunch table, “Eddie’s face would be permanently glued to hers.”
“Not necessarily,” Dustin stated, “maybe they are dating, and they just don’t like to kiss in front of people. I mean they hug and make heart eyes at each other all the time, that’s gotta mean something.”
Mike snickered, “Eddie doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to be shy about PDA. I say they aren’t dating.”
“Eddie let’s her play with his hair…” there was a hint of frustration in Dustin’s voice, “that is cold hard proof that they are dating. Eddie doesn’t let anyone touch his hair; he told me so himself.”
Lucas set his tray down once they reached the table and shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe they’re really close friends. Just because they hug and everything doesn’t mean they’re dating.”
“I guess we’ll never know for sure.” Mike sat down next to Lucas.
Dustin slammed his tray down with exasperation, “I’m tired of not knowing! I’m gonna ask them as soon as they get here!”
“Ask who what?”
Dustin let out a startled shriek causing Mike and Lucas to chuckle. Eddie stood at the head of the table, you right by his side, both with curious expressions.
Dustin stammered, unsure how to ask the question he and the others had been dying to know the answer to.
“Go on, Dustin, ask them.” Mike said with a smirk.
Dustin glared at him before turning to you and Eddie, “So, we were just wondering, are the two of you…together…like dating.”
You and Eddie looked at each other and laughed, “No.”
“Really?!” Dustin was shocked.
“We’ve been friends for years, but we’re not dating.” Eddie pulled out your chair for you before taking a seat himself.
“Yeah, Eddie rejected me when I asked him out three years ago.” You looked up from your lunch when you were met with silence. You turned next to you to see Eddie’s stunned face; it would have made you laugh if you hadn’t been so confused.
“I’m sorry…” Eddie sat up straight and looked you right in the eye, “WHAT?!”
It was your turn to be confused, “What do you mean, ‘what?’”
“When the HELL did you ask me out?”
“Uh, three years ago, it was my sophomore year, I had just joined Hellfire. After my first campaign, I helped you clean up and asked if you wanted to go to the movies and you told me no.”
“No, no, you helped me clean up and then you asked me if I had ever seen Psycho before because it was playing at the drive in that weekend, and I told you that I had seen the movie before, but that you should totally go see it because it’s good. You never asked me out!”
“Yeah, I was implying that I wanted us to go to the movie together…on a date.”
“Okay, but that wasn’t clear!”
“Yes, I realized that, so I tried again about a month later.”
Eddie’s eyes bugged out in shock, “WHAT?!”
“Remember, I went with you to band practice and then you drove me home and I told you that I liked you,” you were met with stunned silence from Eddie, “I told you that I liked you and you said, ‘I think you’re pretty great too’ and—"
Eddie cut you off, “I’m glad we became friends.” The memory came flooding back to the front of his mind.
“After you said that, I figured you didn’t feel the same way, and misinterpreted what I meant, so I wiped the egg off my face and moved on.”
The boys winced at Eddie, the secondhand embarrassment kicking in. Lucas released a huff of air, “Rejected twice, that’s rough.”
Eddie looked like he was second guessing every single decision he had ever made since that moment. He was mentally beating himself up. Three years. For three years he had been pining for you, hoping that you would eventually return his feelings, but apparently all that time you had. And not only had you returned his affections, oh no, you had asked him out and he had unknowingly rejected you…twice.
“I am so fucking stupid.”
“Eddie, it’s fine. You didn’t feel the same way. It’s not your fault that you misunderstood what I meant.” You shrugged.
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up so high they were hidden by his bangs. He pulled your chair out, turned it to face him, and leaned in towards you, “I have been in love with you for three years.”
“Wh-what?” You searched his eyes for any hint of mockery but found nothing but sincerity.
He leaned in closer and spoke slowly, making sure to over enunciate each word, “I have been in love with you for three years.”
Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all looked at each other and stood, grabbing their lunch trays. Dustin uttered a quick and awkward goodbye before following the others to another table on the other side of the cafeteria.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” you felt like your entire world was spinning, but not necessarily in a bad way, “you’ve been in love with me, and I’ve been in love with you, and we’ve both been idiots. That sound about right?”
Eddie nodded, “Yup.”
“Well,” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “are we gonna do anything to rectify this?”
Eddie smiled, “I don’t know, you free this weekend?”
“I’ll have to cancel some plans with a friend of mine, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he will either.” Eddie winked and you both smiled.
5K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 
You see both sides of him now. 
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 
“Hello,” you call back. 
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 
“Shit, you wanna see?” 
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 
“Another bat?” you ask. 
“Not cool?” 
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?” 
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 
You pull your head up slowly. 
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 
4K notes · View notes
mediocredreams · 2 months
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Sweet Like Sugar 💗
Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: smut, masturbation (m), allusion to piv sex, oral (f!receiving), age gap (R is 20’s, Eddie is 40+) 18+ ONLY MDNI
A/N: I had a BAD DAY ™ at work, so here’s a smutty older!Eddie blurb to cheer me up :) Idk
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Older Eddie who lets you stay at his trailer for a few days while yours is getting repaired due a burst pipe.
He lives alone and tends to keep to himself since his divorce a few years back.
You’ve always found him to be hot in an older, rough-around-the-edges sort of way, but you never had the nerve to approach him, sharing nothing more than the occasional smile or wave when you saw him in passing.
Eddie definitely notices you.
As he sits and smokes on his front porch every evening, he watches as you come and go from your trailer, looking so good it makes him wish he was twenty years younger.
Ever since you moved to the trailer park he’s enjoyed watching you prance around in your tight, skimpy clothing. He sees guys occasionally come and go with you, but he knows you live alone. And word around the trailer park is that you don’t have any family nearby.
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So when disaster struck a few days ago and you knocked on his door at 2am in a panic, what else was he to do but offer you his help? He knew you had nobody else you could turn to in an emergency.
When you had looked at him with your big, tear-filled eyes his heart had melted, and he’d told you that you could stay with him for as long as you needed.
He was just being neighborly.
It definitely had nothing to do with the way the frayed edges of your tiny jean shorts hugged the bare curve of your ass every time you bent over.
And it certainly wasn’t because of the way your tits bounced in your clingy tank tops, the tight buds of your nipples showing through the material in a mouthwatering display.
Nope, not at all.
Like a true gentleman, Eddie had insisted that you take his bedroom, telling you he’d be fine sleeping on the couch. Laughed when he joked that the firm sofa was better for his back anyway.
Every night after you both went to bed he would lie there and listen until he could hear the soft sound of your breathing down the hall, signaling that you were asleep. Then he would quietly tug his pajama bottoms down in a pool around his thighs, wrap his hand around his aching length and think of you.
As he stroked himself he imagined you riding him there on the couch, your ass bouncing overtop his fat balls as he split your pussy open on his thick, veiny cock. Dreamed of your perfect tits bouncing in his face as he’d lick and suck on your nipples, while telling you what a good girl you were for him.
If you had ever woken up in the night, you might have heard him groan as he came, spilling his seed into his hand while muttering your name.
Afterwards he would curse himself when he had to get up and stumble around in the dark to clean up the warm, sticky mess.
You were going to be the death of him.
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Eddie had offered to help you out with the cost of the repairs to your trailer, and at first you had resisted, but he spoke with such firmness that you eventually gave in.
You wanted to thank him for taking such good care of you, so you’d spend your afternoons tidying up the trailer, and baking him sweet, sugary treats that tasted like heaven on his tongue.
And you always made sure to have supper ready for him when he got home from work.
Like the day in question.
When Eddie first stepped into the trailer the food you were preparing smelled so good that he was practically drooling.
As always, you greeted him at the door with a cold beer and a smile, your glossy lips all pouty and full.
You were wearing one of your little outfits that drove him crazy, topped off with a frilly apron tied with a bow at your waist. Eddie guessed that his ex-wife must have left it behind when she moved out, but she sure hadn’t worn it as well as you.
He could already feel the front of his pants getting tight and he’d barely made it through the door.
“Supper will be ready soon, Eddie. Why don’t you go watch TV and relax?” you cooed sweetly, as you stepped close and placed a manicured hand on his chest.
As he breathed in your perfume, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to feel those nails scratch down his back as he buried himself deep inside you.
He sighed and shook his head as if to rid it of his perverted thoughts. A sweet thing like you would never want an old man like him.
He made his way over to the couch to wait for dinner, hoping to find something on TV to distract him from his impure thoughts.
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The way Eddie looked when he got home from work at the garage had you distracted.
The faint scent of grease and sweat lingered on his skin, a comforting and masculine smell. Strands of his gray-streaked hair kissed his shoulders, falling loose after being tied back all day. Curls you had secretly imagined between your thighs more than once.
The collar of his coveralls was pulled open to reveal a hint of the tattoos on his neck and chest. Ink you had fantasized about tracing with your tongue on occasion. You yearned to leave love bites along his strong neck and show everyone that he was yours.
You wondered what Eddie would do if you told him how you felt. You looked over at him watching TV, his profile so handsome and strong. If you sank to your knees before him right then and there would he let you worship him like he deserved? Or would he push you away?
Eddie seemed to enjoy it when you doted on him. You had noticed that his cheeks would glow with a flush of pink as you fussed over his needs. And you hadn’t missed the way he looked at you when he didn’t think you were paying attention.
You decided that you would tell him how you felt that night at dinner. You just hoped he felt the same way.
You liked taking care of Eddie, and hoped that he wanted to keep you around a bit longer.
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And Eddie liked taking care of you.
Like later that night when he had you on all fours in his bed; his thick tongue engulfed in the wet heat of your cunt, licking and diving between your sticky folds.
Eddie’s large hands spread your cheeks wide as his plush lips suckled and teased your clit; his big nose nudging against your tight holes as he lapped up your creamy release.
Pulling back for just a moment, he slapped your ass to watch the recoil, then ran a thick finger through your slick.
“Got one more for me, Baby?”
Moments later you buried your face in his soft pillows to muffle your screams as you came.
But he wasn’t done yet.
By the end of the night your juices coated his face like a mask, as he continued to relish in the taste of his sugary sweet girl.
Yeah, he planned to keep you around.
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dividers by @saradika-graphics
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say-al0e · 10 days
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Movie Night
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!
Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)
“I think I’m going to ask him out.”
Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.
A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind. 
The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a  weary glance.
Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.
“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”
Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.
“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.
Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.
Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.
And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.
Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.
“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”
“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.
Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”
The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.
“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”
Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.
“You’re really into him?” 
Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.
“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.
A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.
“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”
Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”
With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.
“Steve.”
An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”
Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”
Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”
“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”
“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”
With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.
“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”
Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”
Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."
Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.
“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.
Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”
With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.
“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”
A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”
“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.
“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”
“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”
Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”
“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”
“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”
Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.
“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”
“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”
“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”
Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice. 
Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.
For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.
The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.
There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.
And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.
At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.
“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.
Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.
“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”
“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.
“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”
Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”
“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”
As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”
“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move -  as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”
The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”
Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”
“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”
There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”
It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”
“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”
“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”
Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”
For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.
Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.
It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.
“Do I make you nervous?”
The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”
“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”
“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”
“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”
“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”
As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”
Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”
“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”
That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”
“God, we’re kinda gross.”
“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”
For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.
“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”
With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.
The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.
As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.
Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.
“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.
“We can rewind it later.” 
Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.
Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear. 
“Want to kiss you more.”
He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”
Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.
Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.
Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.
“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”
“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”
“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”
“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”
“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.
“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”
The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.
“I’m closer than you think.”
Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.
“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“
“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”
Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.
“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”
Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.
“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”
“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”
Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.
“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.
“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.
“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”
“You’re killing me. Fuck.”
Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.
Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.
Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.
Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.
It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.
But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”
The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.
For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”
Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”
As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”
“What a way to go, though, hm?”
Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.
Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.
With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.
“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.
“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”
A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.
“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”
“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”
Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”
“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”
Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.
For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.
A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”
It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”
“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”
Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”
“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”
“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.
However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.
Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.
This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.
Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.
“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”
Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.
Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.
The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.
Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.
Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”
With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.
Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams. 
For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.
When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.
“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”
With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”
“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”
Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”
Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.
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Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.
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lovebugism · 15 days
Note
hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.
There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.
“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”
He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”
Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”
You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 
“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”
—————
He’s a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.
“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”
If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.
“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.
“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 
“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”
You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”
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