#stranger things fan fiction

[hellfiremunsonn]

Tender Touches. Eddie Munson x Reader

Tender Touches

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: A typical Tuesday that leads to you and Eddie finally confessing your feelings for each other, and finally, losing that virgin status.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, virgin reader, virgin Eddie, hes such a teasing little shit, protected sex, first times, 'fem' pet names (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: I CAN WRITE? WHO KNEW!!!  NOT REALLY PROOF READ (And shout out to my bby boy @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn't absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4.6k

It's a normal Tuesday afternoon. You're at eddies, kneeled in front of his tv that he's moved into his room so the two of you can lay in his bed and watch movies instead of squishing together on the couch. Not that you didn't mind squishing up with him, it was actually one of your favourite activities when the two of you weren't constantly teasing each other to cover up the fact that you both were head over heels for one another. 

You can hear Eddie bumbling around in the kitchen, muttering to himself while you sift through the pile of tapes. Some newly rented, some classics he already owned, so it was just a matter of deciding on watching something new or rewatching something just cause. You decided on The Lost Boys. You had only seen it once before when Eddie rented it for halloween one year, but never made it through the whole thing because you had fallen asleep. You had come down with a cold only two days before and were upset you couldn't do your halloween traditions, but naturally that didn't stop Eddie from showing up at your door step, with snacks, and drinks to make you feel better along with the movie and cuddles from him that could never compare to anyone else's. 

You were so lost in thought that the entire time you've been sat going through the movies you didn't realize Eddie had been watching you. Stood in the doorway with a stupid smile on his face while he watched you quietly talk to yourself about each movie. 

He tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, pretending to clear his throat and slightly startling you in the process. "Pick one yet?"

You squeaked slightly at his voice. "Shit Ed's you scared me"

He laughed, laying down on his bed, setting the bowl of popcorn down in the middle, and putting your drinks on the table next to him. "It's not my fault you're so jumpy all the time" 

"I swear I only get this bad around you" you say with a fake sigh, sliding the movie out of its cardboard case and into the VHS machine. 

"That sounds like a you problem dude" he says flicking a piece of popcorn at you. It hits you in the forehead and lands in your lap. 

"Rude" you mumble, picking up the piece of popcorn and eating it before standing up with a stretch. Arms over your head with your fingers interlocked; your cropped band t-shirt rising up, to where it's about a centimetre away from fully exposing your boobs but the stretch feels too good for you to notice. Eddie notices though, and he almost fully chokes and gags on his own spit at the sight of the soft skin of your underboob. 

You crawl your way onto Eddies bed and sit next to him, pulling the popcorn bowl closer to you, and taking a tiny handful. Eddies body is ridged next to you, but you don't seem to notice.

You make it about ten minutes into the movie before your fourth sigh of the night makes Eddie take the bowl of popcorn from you and turns to face you. "Alright, what's your issue?" he asks.

"What? What are you talking about?" you sit up, pushing yourself up with your hands and crossing your legs under you. 

"You've been sighing every five seconds like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, so what is it" he pokes your shoulder a little too hard and you wince but smile nonetheless. 

"If I ask you something stupid do you promise not to laugh?" you gnaw at your bottom lip, looking up at him with soft eyes. 

"Have I ever?" he says quickly, a smug smile on his face.

"Often actually" you tease.

"No but seriously, you can tell me anything" he says reaching over to give your thigh a gentle pat and squeeze. 

"Okay, um, do you think I'm hot?" you can feel the heat of embarrassment rise from your stomach up your neck to your cheeks. 

Eddie stares at you. You almost think he might actually be frozen, and you're about to ask him if he's okay when he exhales loudly. 

"I'm not sure what you're asking me here" he says with a small laugh. "Are you asking if I'm attracted to you orrrrr?" he raises a brow.

"Well, no" you furrow your brows. "Not exactly, but if you are attracted to me, that might help?" You groan, dropping your head into your hands. "ugh, okay" you said loudly and taking a deep breath. Pretending that it will help you feel more confident with your words.

"When you look at me, or when we first met did, did you think 'wow she's hot' or do I just not look like that?" the words tumble out of your mouth, almost too quickly that Eddie slightly struggles to understand you at first. 

Eddie looks at you in disbelief before letting out a small laugh, shaking his head. 

"S'not funny!" you say slapping him on the arm, which only spurs him on.

"No, no it's not" he said in between breaths. "It's just an absolutely ridiculous question, of course you're hot" he said matter of fact. "Have you ever even looked at yourself?" He puts the bowl of popcorn down on the floor next to him, turning to fully face you now making you feel nervous with all his attention on you.

"I look at myself everyday Ed's" you say looking down, playing with the hem of one of your socks.

"Okay don't get an attitude with me, you know what I mean" he said while crossing one arm over his chest to scratch at the opposite bicep, you bite your lip at the sight.

You roll your eyes and huff. "M'not getting an attitude Ed's I ju-" (you were absolutely getting an attitude) But he grabs your face with one hand before you can finish the sentence, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are in a pout. You had thought that your face couldn't heat up any more with embarrassment than it already had, but then his hands touched your face and your entire body engulfed in heat.

"Answer the question" he said slowly, each word enunciated and his tone oddly stern. Watching you for a moment, before releasing your face from his hand, leaning back against the wall.

Your heart was thumping in your chest. "I j-just don't see what other people see obviously, a-and maybe I'm missing something you know? And that's why people don't like me" you rush.

He scoffs, shaking his head, leaning back until he was looking up at the ceiling. Throat on display, thick and inviting, begging to be bitten. You swallowed hard when he looked back at you, some sort of mischief in his eyes. 

"Ed's you're being weird" you say shifting slightly, trying to ignore the roaring heat you could feel between your legs.

He hums. "Do you not see the way I look at you?" he leans forward, resting his elbows on the top of his thighs while he looks at you intently. 

"I can see the way you're looking at me right now" you say softly, heart thumping so loudly in your ears you wondered if it was loud enough for Eddie to hear.

"And how am I looking at you right now?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You swallow thickly, only raising your eyes to his briefly while you said. "You're looking at me like you want to-" you lick your lips. "-Like you want to fuck me"

His smile spreads slowly, it's a wicked grin that makes you nervous but intrigues you more. 

"There's my smart girl" he coos. 

Your mouth falls agape, unsure at how to respond to him "Huh?"

He's quick, grabbing at your legs until he's pulled you down enough so you're laying on your back, hair sprawled around you messily while your breath catches in your throat. He's hovering over you with both his hands on either side of your head looking at you like he's on death row and you're his last meal.

"I want to do a lot more than fuck you, but I'd like to start with a kiss if that's okay?"

You're in shock, you almost consider pinching yourself to make sure this isn't a dream "You want to kiss me?" you ask. "Did I fall and hit my head or something?" you lean up on your elbows and Eddie moves back slightly to accommodate you but still stays close.

"For someone who's as smart as you are, you can be really dumb sometimes" Eddie laughs. "Of course I want to kiss you, you idiot" he says all too casually. 

Something blooms inside you. You don't know if its confidence, or arousal, but with a laugh you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips into his. He lets out a small groan and it fuels the heat between your legs more spreading throughout your entire body until it reaches the centre of your chest. His lips are soft and pillowy just like you had imagined. He taste like cigarettes, popcorn, and the sugar from the candies you had shared. 

You push yourself forward more until Eddie leans back almost completely. "Sit" you mumble against his mouth and he listens, not letting your lips be untouched for more than a second while he moves to sit on the edge of his bed. You quickly straddle him, hands coming up to either sides of his face to deepen the kiss, and his squeeze at the sides of your hips, earning a small moan that you tried to keep quiet. You don't realize you're not putting your full weight on him until you feel him guide your hips closer, the brush of his hardened cock against your centre makes you squeak in surprise. 

The two of you move together like you knew what you were doing, it was instinct considering you never made it this far with most of the people you've been with. Sure you've fooled around with others, and you've done most of the sexual acts your mind could comprehend but neither of you had been able to discard that 'virgin' title. But it's never felt like this, it never felt electric, and the shocking realization that you could make Eddie feel this good makes you even more turned on. 

Eddie pulls back slightly when he realizes you've started to grind against him. "W-We don't have to do anything if you don't want to" he says breathlessly. 

"I know" you whisper "But this feels really good" you admit, never once stopping the motion of your hips. 

"You're gunna make me cum in my pants if you keep doing that" he says glancing down to watch the roll of your hips. 

"Is that a challenge?" you tease, pressing down on him a little harder which makes him close his eyes tight and groan. 

"You don't wanna start that game sweetheart" his hands are tight where they've moved to your thighs, squeezing harshly. 

"Why not?" you say looking at him, eyes blown out and glassy, you feel drunk off of want-Need.

"Cause you won't win" Eddie says with a smirk. One arm wrapping around your waist as he pushes himself up into you hard, a forced moan slipping from your mouth loudly while he flips the two of you, until you're on your back under him once again. 

"How do you know how to do all that?" You ask through a small gasp.

"I'm a virgin sweetheart, not inexperienced" he smirks and you open your eyes just quickly enough to catch the end of it. 

"Can I keep getting those pretty sounds outta you?" his cheeks are flushed, and you think he's never looked prettier.

You nod quickly, pulling at the fabric of his t-shirt, trying to get him closer "More" you plead. "Please?"

"Yeah? You want more?" He asks while looping his fingers into the waistband of your pants, inching them down so, so, slowly until your lower half is bare before him. You whine impatiently and he smiles. "You can have anything you want baby I'll give it to you" 

You cover your face with your hands, heat rising to your cheeks at the way he called you baby while undressing you. He moves your hands away, a cocky smile on his face. "What's got you all shy now hmm?"

"You can't just call me baby like that" you breathe, watching him in a daze as he trailed kisses down between the valley of your breasts, barely covered by the crop top you wore. 

"Why not?" he mumbles against your skin, nipping and licking at any spot he can get access. You keen into his touch, your waist instinctively following the warmth of his mouth. 

You hum, forcing the words to come to you, but he's making you feel so good. "Gives me butterflies" you murmur. "B-but, like lower?" brows furrowed.

Eddies head shoots up to look at you when he hears that. Your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back so you can't see him look at you. "Lower?" he asks trailing a finger from your sternum down to your waist.

"Yeah" you nod and sigh.

Eddie coos "You tellin' me I give your pussy butterflies?" His hand continues down you until his palm pushes against your clit. You know he's smirking, you know he's looking up at you, but you can't open your eyes to look.

You hate the way pussy rolls of his tongue, but you hate the way it makes your stomach flip more, and the pathetic noise of a whimper that leaves you when he says it. 

"Can we, c-could y-you" your trying to get the words out but your arousal fogs your mind, the only thing there is Eddie.

"What is it baby, what do you need?" his thumb swipes at your clit and you mewl. 

You finally open your eyes, tilting your head to your shoulder to look at him. His eyes are down where his thumb is connected to you, watching in awe the way your cunt literally shines for him. His eyes flick back up quickly and he smiles when he sees you looking back at him. 

"Can we have sex?" you say quickly and so very quiet Eddie almost doesn't catch it. 

"Do you want to?" He asks seriously. 

You nod. "I feel like I'm on fire, I want to feel you, I need it" you say it so surely that Eddie has to bite his tongue from declaring his love for you right then and there, so instead he just nods leaning back onto his knees, too far away from you for your liking and you pout. 

"Show me how you touch yourself first" he says while reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head.

"What!?" you prop yourself up onto your elbows, mouth agape in shock knees knocking together.

"Show me" he says with a nod, eyes flicking down to your slick pussy that he can still see despite your attempt to hide it, and then back up to you. "How you touch yourself" his words are slow, just like his hands as they undo his belt, pulling it out of its loops and chucking it onto the floor. 

You hesitate still, watching him while he pops the button of his jeans and pulls at them so the zipper slides down. "Listen, I'm sure I can figure it out myself, but I'd have a better chance at making you cum if you show me" he smirks. 

That smug bastard. It takes everything in you to keep your voice steady but when you speak, you don't break eye contact and say "I'd rather you put your mouth on me instead" 

He falters only slightly. It's the way his smile drops just barely at the corner of his mouth and the way his cheeks flush that you're able to catch it. He laughs in disbelief, tugging his jeans down just a little to relieve some pressure, exposing the soft happy trail just below his belly button.

You bite your lip and hum at the sight, dreaming about the way it would feel if you dragged your tongue over it. "I don't know if I can wait that long though" you admit, sighing when you look back up at him. 

"Wait that long for what?" he says slowly crawling his way back on top of you, knee slotting perfectly between your legs. You flinch when the fabric of his jeans makes contact with your clit.

"Tell me what you're waiting for hmm?" he asked, that stupid smirk you already know is plastered on his face. 

You're getting needy, and Eddie is memorizing every sound and movement you make because of it. Determined to get you like this as often as you'll let him. "Please" you whine, and you curse yourself for the tears you feel prick at the corner of your lashes. 

"Please what" he crowds your space, enveloping you in all of him. 

"Please sir? Please Daddy? Please Master? Please Eddie?" you rush frustrated. "I n-need you Eds please" 

"Fuck" he breathes, head falling until his forehead is resting against your shoulder. "You sure?" he asks again, looking back at you for reassurance. 

"Yeah" you lick your lips, mouth dry with excitement. "I'm sure"

"It- Um, okay, I might not last very long" he says bashfully, leaning back from you to lean over to his bedside table, picking out a shiny packet and tossing it onto the bed next to you. 

"I don't care" you shake your head smiling, you're so blissed out, you can't imagine how you'll feel when he gets to fuck you properly but that's for another day.

He huffs a laugh, pulling back from you to take his jeans and boxers off. You admire him, finally getting a glance at what you've been dreaming of. His dick is perfect needless to say, but you can't help the nerves that bloom in your stomach about what the two of you are about to do. 

Eddie catches the change in your eyes and is quick to reassure you, with a hand on your knee, resting his chin on it and giving it a squeeze. "Hey, it'll be okay, we'll go slow okay? If it sucks, just tell me, I'll wait forever for this, as long as its with you"

Your eyes water at his sincerity and he panics slightly when he sees your bottom lip wobble. "Baby, hey, come here" he lays next to you and pulls you into him, and you gladly hide your face into the crook of his shoulder, sniffing slightly. 

"You're so sweet to me" you say quietly.

"Well it's cause I love you" he says, and you both still for a moment, because that's the first time those words have been fully and truthfully spoken with romantic intent. 

"You love me?" you ask, leaning back to look up at him. Even though he just said it, and you know it's the truth, it's what you've been waiting to hear for the last three years. 

He nods and smiles, his cheeks pink as he says "I do"

You giggle. "I love you to"

"Gross" he says before leaning down to kiss you quick. "Wanna try?"

"Yeah" you take a breath. "Yeah, I'm ready, m'just nervous that it's going to hurt" you admit. 

"It might, but tell me if it's too much okay? If I had known this was going to be happening today I would have restocked my lube"

You snort at his unfiltered self, never afraid to say what he's thinking.

It's shaky hands and fumbling movements, shoving your faded sea creature themed comforter you always brought with you for sleep overs, down as far as it could go. It's the first time the two of you have seen each other like this, the tension building over the last three years as the two of you pretended you weren't head over heels for each other it felt like you could explode.

"Can I take this off?" he asks, hands slipping under the sides of your shirt. 

You nod, lifting yourself up to fling it over your head and onto his floor, and he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. He stares for a moment, just taking you in, like he's dreamed about.

"You're acting like you've never seen a pair of tits before" you tease.

"I've seen plenty of tits" he scoffs. "but I haven't seen such perfect tits before" and he dives in, kissing every inch of them, mouthing at the skin, and licking each of your nipples until you're keening into his touch. He only stops when you whimper because he knows you're growing needier by the second. 

"I know m'sorry" he says breathlessly against your sternum. Sitting back up onto his knees he reaches for the condom next to you, tearing the wrapper by the corner and pulling out the slippery latex circle. You watch as he slips it on so quickly, like he's done this a million times, and just before you can ask "I've practiced" he says with a smirk, coming back to rest between the safety of your thighs, hugging his hips perfectly. 

"Ready?" he asks. 

"Yeah" you nod with a smile. 

"Okay" he breathes. "Fuck, yeah, okay, okay" he takes his cock into his hand, pushing it through your slick folds and the two of you moan in unison. Gathering your arousal l until he dips just below to your entrance, looking back up at you for approval. 

You nod again. "That's the right spot" you encourage and he laughs. 

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

"I will baby I promise"

he leans over you quickly to kiss you, because how could he not when you just called him baby like that? Slowly he pushes the head of his cock against you. Just the slight pressure of his cock feels good but it doesn't erase the nerves bubbling through you as Eddie pushes in more.

"Sh-it" you say through gritted teeth. 

"D'you want me to stop?"

"No no, sorry, just, weird feeling, never had anything so um" you giggle and Eddies eyes panicky search yours, because why are you laughing when his dick is about to enter you. 

"Please don't tell me my dick is small, not now, I couldn't handle it" 

You laugh again but louder, switching to a moan when Eddies own laughter causes him to push in a little more. Your hands coming up to hold his biceps. 

"I've never had anything so big in me" 

"Don't flatter me" he teases.

"Oh fuck off" you slap his arm before returning your hand back to it.

He slips in inch by inch, and it doesn't not hurt, but it doesn't feel entirely great either. It's a mixture of pain and pleasure, with the oddest comforting feeling of him so deep inside you. 

"Fucking christ" Eddie breathes when he bottoms out, arms shaking from where they hold himself up above you. "If I move I'm cumming in like thirty seconds, tops"

You laugh and he groans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. 

"Fuck, don't, you can't laugh" he says, but you can't help it especially when he says it through a laugh himself. 

"Stop making me laugh then!" you quip. 

And so he does, slipping one hand between your two bodies until he finds your slippery clit, rubbing circles that has you embarrassingly and shockingly close to cumming. Your back arches with a gasp, another pornographic moan leaving you as Eddie continues his movements. Eventually slowly pulling himself out an inch before going back in. You don't even realize he's doing it until one thrust and clench of your cunt happen at the same time and you almost choke on your spit at how good it feels. 

"Holy shit" you breathe. 

"I know" Eddie says through a laugh of disbelief. 

A thick heat engulfs your body, sweat forming between your two bodies, and you feel everything in you begin to tremble. 

"You okay?" he says from the crook of your neck.

"Uh-huh" you nod with a hiccup.

Eddie pulls himself from your neck to look at you, concerned with the sad noise that you made. He slows down and you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that blur your vision. They slide down the sides of your temples, and fade into your hairline. Eddies hand comes up to wipe away at the tears, pushing your hair out of your face. 

"Baby, baby, what's going on?"

"M'okay" you say though a small sob. "Just feels really good" you admit. 

"Yeah?" He says picking his speed back up. 

"You're gunna make me cum I think" You say craning your neck to look at where the two of you are connected, his trimmed pubes, wet against yours with your arousal. You slide your hand down to rub at your clit, and the sensation is almost so intense you want to stop, but you're so close. 

"Keep doing that baby, come on" he grunts, gritting his teeth as he fucks into you harder once he realizes you can take it. And boy can you take it.

"Yes, oh- ohmygod!" you whine, head falling back against his pillows. "Please please please please-" You chant. You're not sure if you're asking Eddie for permission or yourself, but him approving it doesn't sound too bad. 

"Come on, you're so close I can feel it" he watches as your legs tremble, slowly moving up, up, up, until your knees are under your chin, toes pointed against his thighs like you're trying to push yourself away from him while your hands cling to his biceps to bring you closer. When you start bouncing yourself back on eddies cock in time with his thrusts he knows he's going to lose it. 

"Cum on this cock pretty girl, come on" his voice shakes, and he's losing his rhythm. 

"I'm- oh I'm- fuck Eddie!" The hand that still holds him grips tightly, nails digging into his skin, and he can feel it start to burn but he doesn't care. 

"Fuck yeah baby, look at you, you're so hot, fucking christ, god, you're amazing, m'gunna cum, shit" he babbles before he cums, spilling more words and expletives as he spills himself inside the condom, inside of you, his words warm against your chest.

Its quiet apart from the two of you catching your breath, relaxing your muscles, and the only time either of you make a noise is when Eddie lifts his head from you, bangs stuck to his forehead in every direction and you can't help but laugh. 

"What?" He says smiling back at you, absolutely in love. 

"You look a mess" you say snorting, pushing his hair away from his face. 

"You look sexy" he says leaning up from you, slowly pulling himself out of you and removing the condom, tying it in a knot and chucking it into his garbage can next to his bed. You make a small whimper of disapproval when he leans back again, thinking he's going to get up. 

"Not going anywhere pretty" he says reaching for the blanket that had been pushed off his bed, bringing it back up, and cuddling it up around you before sliding himself under it next to you. 

You scooch over until you can lay your head on his chest, leg hitching up over his waist and you can feel your arousal leak out of you and probably onto him but you're too blissed out to care.

"I love you" you murmur softly into his skin, placing delicate kisses.

"Hmm?" he lolls his head to the side, eyes sleepy and fond, thumb rubbing gently across your cheek. 

"I love you" you say looking up at him, cheek smushed against his chest. 

"I love you right back" he says without a beat. 

[msgexymunson]

Benefits

Description: Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, weed smoking, virgin Eddie x virgin reader, grinding, fingering, fem oral receiving.

A/N: I just wanted to write a little goofy, not so confident Eddie and this poured out of my brain hole. Enjoy! Reblogs and comments keep me alive so please for the love of all that is smutty reblog if you enjoy it! 

5k words

Masterlist

“All I'm saying is…” you take a big pull of the joint Eddie wiggles at you, his rough fingers brushing your lips. Your voice comes out croaky as hell when you speak, holding the smoke in, “...you can't do the voice.” 

The film plays quietly in the background as you both hang out on his couch, paying little attention to it. 

Eddie scoffs at you, taking the smoke back, and takes a big lug of it himself, hand coming to rest on your bare ankle that was thrown casually over his lap. 

“What you trying to say? You know I can do voices. I could totally do Vader.” 

Giggling, you wiggle your feet as he lightly drags his fingers over them. 

“Don't do that, you know it tickles!” 

Holding his hands up and away from you, you almost miss the contact. Which was insane. This is Eddie, for fucks sake. Your best friend. The asshole who made you nearly piss your pants in seventh grade from tickling too hard, who does stupid shit to get you to smile when you're sad. 

Recently though, the little lingering touches he gives you make your toes curl. Those glances that last a little too long for best friends, the drag of his hand on your back when you move through a crowd. It was crazy, but a part of you couldn't help but think he was feeling the same way. It wasn't like you were in love with the guy, at least not like that. He was almost family. Which made the feelings that you were having sinful in a way that made your thighs clench. 

The flirting didn't help. Eddie flirted as naturally as breathing. He was just so goddamn charming; he had chemistry with everyone. Which made it even more awkward. What if your salacious thoughts weren't reciprocated? Maybe it was just your raging hormones and you needed to keep them in check before you lose your best friend. 

“You're wrong you know.” 

Eddie's words bring you out of the daze you've been falling into; you blink at him, confused. 

“Huh?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, and flashes you a smirk that does nothing to quench the fire inside, right when his large hands move to your waist and tickle you relentlessly. You're gasping giggles as he pins your hands over your head, full weight pressing into you. Somehow, he's got his narrow hips in between your thighs, which is definitely not helping the situation. 

“I can totally do the voice, see?” He drops it two octaves, letting a deep bass voice flow out of him, “Luke, I am your father.” 

Fuck, that shouldn't turn you on, but it did. That, and his forced proximity has you feeling uncomfortably wet. It's embarrassingly seeping into your panties; so much so that you cringe at your body's betrayal. 

He's just so damn close. So close, that you see something fluttering behind those brandy wine eyes of his. Or, was it merely your imagination?

Only one way to find out. 

Biting your lip, you flutter your eyelashes softly and speak in the sexiest voice you can.

“Does that mean I should call you Daddy?” 

Eddie's mouth drops open in a perfect O, eyebrows knitted. 

“You can't- you just- fuck!” 

He clambers off of you in an attempt to put some space between you, crossing his legs on the couch. Eddie looks flustered, cheeks burning red as he looks at you like you just grew an extra head. 

“I can't what, Eddie? Can't tease you like you tease me?” 

“Huh? I don't tease you! When did I-” 

“Oh, pinning me down don't count, huh?” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he blows air out, grabbing a cushion and ramming it in his lap. 

“I didn't mean it like that, it's just, I dunno.” 

Looking down at his hands, he fiddles with his rings. The sheepishness he's showing is adorable, and so unlike him that it stops you in your tracks. Maybe you should just go easy on him, just a little. 

“Don't worry about it Eds, I'm just fucking around.” 

There's a bit of tension released from his shoulders, but he's still not looking at you. 

Fuck, you need another smoke. 

“You want me to roll?” 

“Hell no, I've seen you roll.” 

Scrunching your nose in fake anger, he laughs at you. 

“Look like a little chipmunk when you do that.” 

“All I hear is that you think I'm adorable.” You giggle as he mockingly rolls his eyes. 

“OK, you roll, I'll grab some sodas.” 

Getting up, you smooth your skirt down and walk over to the fridge. The cans are on the lower shelf, so you bend to grab two, making a mental note to tell Eddie to buy some more. 

When you look back, Eddie's slid to the floor, rolling paraphernalia spread out in front of him. It would be a normal scene, if he didn't still have the cushion wedged in his lap and his face wasn't glowing redder than your underwear. 

Underwear… underwear that he might have seen, since you just bent over. And the only reason why he'd keep that cushion in his lap is if he… 

Oh. 

Wordlessly, you put the soda next to his elbow and scoot up on the couch, entirely unsure about what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. The furthest you've ever gone is some over the clothes stuff. 

Plus, this is Eddie. Your stupid, asshole, mean, tormenting, breathtakingly gorgeous best friend. You curse, wriggling a little in your seat. Your panties are so damp they're practically glued to your privates, a heat emanating from you that's making your insides burn. 

“Milady.” 

Eddie holds the joint to you, perfectly rolled and more surprisingly, unlit.

“Eddie, you always take the first toke. Rollers rights, remember?” 

He shrugs and passes it anyway, giving you the lighter too, as he lifts himself onto the couch with both hands, letting his cushion shield drop briefly. Long enough to see the tightness in the crotch of his pants. 

Now the feel of your slick is dampening your thighs. Pushing them together as tight as you can, willing the feeling to dissipate, you light it with trembling hands. One puff, two puffs, pass. As his fingers graze yours, he looks at you appraisingly.

“You alright there sweetheart? Not comfy?” 

Nothings gonna happen if you just sit here and whine like a bitch in your head. Take the leap. 

“It's a little, er, embarrassing.” 

Knees squeezing together so hard it's bordering on painful, you look up at him through your lashes. Eddie's eyes are wide and warm, a light smile wrinkling them at the corners softly. 

“It's only me, come on. You can tell me anything.”

Huffing and wriggling some more, you watch him inhale smoke, and blow it out, a slight pout to his mouth that makes you want to pepper it with soft kisses. Then hard kisses. Then, other stuff. Fuck. 

“It's not- we don't, talk about this kinda stuff. I don't wanna… cross a line, you know?”

“Hey, it's alright.” His thick fingers shakily touch your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. You're not sure if it calms you or makes you worse. It could be both. 

“Fine. Just, don't look at me when I tell you this, ‘kay?” 

There's a little laugh from him, then he rests his head on the back of the couch, eyes staring resolutely to the ceiling. 

“Alright weirdo I'm not looking. Shoot.” 

Tightening your knuckles, your face creases with the effort as you let fly the words that may well end your friendship. 

“I'm uncomfortable, I'm just- fuck, I'm really wet, OK?”

Of all the things you could say, you know Eddie was not expecting you to say that. Especially when he blushes profusely and his grip tightens hard on the cushion in his lap. True to his word, his gaze is directed firmly on the ceiling. 

“That's really-” His voice is broken; squeaky and boyish. He coughs and it comes out much lower, almost comically so. “That's, er, interesting.” 

You can't help it. A crazy laugh shoots out of your throat. An insane laugh. A mental institution laugh. It seems fitting for the situation. Here you are, on Eddie fucking Munson’s couch, telling him how wet you are? You've finally lost it. 

He laughs with you, helping to diffuse some of the awkward energy filling the room.

“Sorry Eddie. It just feels a bit, surreal, you know?” 

Eddie risks a look at you when he hands the joint back. You both stare at each other, each wishing to read the other's mind. 

Remember who you're talking to. This is Eddie. You can talk to him about anything. 

“Listen, Eddie, this is way out of fucking left field but I'm gonna say it. Have you like, done stuff, before?” 

Taking the biggest inhale you can risk without swallowing the roach, you pass the smoke back. There's a very slight shake to Eddie's hand. For some reason it gives you a bit more confidence. His voice wobbles more dramatically than you've ever heard.

“You mean like, sexual, stuff?” 

He finishes the smoke and stubs it out, glancing at you. There's a heat in his eyes that you're not used to seeing. 

“Y-yeah, I mean, honest truth? I've only done over the clothes stuff. Nothing more than that. And you?” 

Eddie coughs, puffing his chest out a little in full man-mode.

“I mean, yeah sure, a bit more than that, you know.” 

You do know. You know by the way he worded that, he's at least not gotten past third base. 

“You're a virgin too then.” 

“Hey!” He huffs, turning to you, “I'm like, way less of a virgin than you are!” 

You laugh loudly, knocking his arm with your fist. 

“Doesn't make you less of a virgin, you idiot.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. 

“Suppose you're right. Some hook-ups ‘round the back of The Hideout don't count for much.”

Reaching for his hand, you brush his knuckles with tentative fingers. 

“Eddie, what I'm trying to say is, well maybe- we could help each other out? I'm a bit… frustrated, and so are you. You know?” 

He squirms a little, recoiling from your touch. 

“What makes you think I'm frustrated?” 

“Eddie, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know why you're grabbing that cushion.” 

He laughs, his special fake laugh he reserves for awkward occasions. That is, until you grab the cushion from his lap and throw it across the room.

He's hard, almost painfully so. It's pressing against his zipper in such a way that you know it must be uncomfortable. You take in a harsh breath as you look at his face. So many emotions seem to be fighting for dominance. Clear arousal, some confusion, a little bit of pity, maybe? Which is the last thing you want to see.

Maybe you were wrong.

“I'm saying that we can help each other. I'm attracted to you. I'm not declaring my love for you or anything. It's not like, some crazy confession. I'm just saying we could… relieve each other.”

“Oh.” His whole demeanour has shifted at your words, “so you don't like, love me, or anything?” 

“Eddie, you are so fucking stupid. Of course I love you, you're my best friend. Just not like that. I mean, I kinda want you to… touch me places, don't mean I want your hand in marriage!” 

His chuckle rings against the tinny walls of the trailer. Then, he looks at you, really looks at you. Biting his lip, he walks his hands toward you, stopping just shy of your constricted knees. 

“Glad you said that. I didn't know how to say that I kinda… well, that I like you, that way, but not like… man, you said it better.” 

And just like that, your Eddie was back. It wasn't weird, far from it. After the way you'd been acting around each other for years, it just made sense. 

You both smile at each other. A genuine, familiar smile. One that hurts your cheeks, that makes your chest fill with warmth. 

“I know this is like, super weird, but it might help, you know?” 

Eddie crawls further towards you, palms splayed on your knees. The simple touch has you quivering. 

“What if it's too weird? I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” 

You smile softly, and unclench your thighs slightly, knees spreading. Enough to make his eyes dart down to your core and back up, laced with want. 

“Tell you what Eds. Kiss me.” 

“And how is that gonna help?”

You laugh, beckoning him forwards. As if on a string, he leans toward you, his rough hands grazing the tops of your thighs. You try to disguise the gasp it elicits from you, but it doesn't seem necessary. Eddie's breathing hard, hard enough to hide any impromptu noises from you. 

“Just kiss me Eddie. If it's weird and gross, we'll laugh about it. If it's, erm, better than that… well, then we can maybe take it a little further.”

Eddie leans in more, hovering over you as your head rests naturally into the armrest. But he stops, inches from your face, hesitating. 

“I don't- shit, I don't know what to do!” 

Laughing loud, you reach out and twirl a section of his hair in your soft hands, adding definition to a curl. 

“Just, use a move on me. You know? Like I'm one of those girls at The Hideout. Come on.” 

He laughs, knuckles dragging over your cheek. 

“That's… this isn't the same. You're not like that ” 

“Fine, just- come on to me. Hit me with your best shot. Just, I dunno, just-”

The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue as he cradles your jaw and presses his full lips softly to yours. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He holds your face almost delicately, tongue lapping gently at your lip until you allow him to slip it inside. 

It's a slow, deliberate thing, as if he's mapping out your mouth in case you never agree to do this again. Not that that's a danger to you. His tongue is burning hot; a slippery warm need, igniting the fire that was already smouldering within you. 

His form relaxes slightly, allowing his weight to drop. His chest falls onto yours, no doubt telling him of the heaving gasps you're taking. You couldn't find it in you to mind, not whilst he's prising your legs open with one knee, his thigh pressing against just where you need it most. 

A moan races out of your mouth and into his, muffled into his chasing tongue. The warmth between your legs is just getting worse, stoked by the pressure of his searching knee. Suddenly there's tension exactly where you need it, the coarse denim of his thigh rubbing hard against your throbbing nub. 

“Eddie, fuck!”

He smiles into your mouth as he pushes his leg harder, groans overtaking his mouth as you use it to chase your pleasure. 

His perfect mouth traces down your jaw, nipping and sucking at your flesh. His thick tongue lathing over your taut muscles, your tiny fingers grasping onto his arms almost pathetically. 

When he breaks away to look at you, eyes searching for doubts, you can't help but think how beautiful he looks. His hair's a little messier than usual, cheeks flushed pink, and those full lips look even plumper than before. 

“Sorry, should have checked in. Was that, alright? Not too weird?” 

You try to slow your breathing, but it's no use. It usually takes you a while to get there on your own, but you were so close to coming on Eddie's leg after a couple of minutes of making out it was almost shameful. 

“I'll say, jeez. I nearly- er, got carried away.” 

“Really?” Eddie's eyes seem to brighten as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a cheeky grin. 

“Don't let that get to your head! I'm just really… needy right now.” 

“Fuck,” he replies, adjusting his bulge, “right, carried away, you say?”

Before you can process what he's said he leaps up, grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. Your giggling squeals echo through the trailer, ringing out like the peals of a bell as he barges into his room and throws you on the bed. Laughing and red faced, with your skirt rucked up around your hips and your arms flung above your head, you notice Eddie's gaze shamelessly skimming to your panties. 

Shaking out of his bare faced revelry he jumps onto the bed next to you, eager as a kid at Christmas. He's on his side, a large hand roaming over your stomach, across your waist, down to your hips and skimming just under your thin sweater. 

“You want me to take this off?” You ask, tugging at the hem. 

“Oh, er- yeah, I-I mean if you- do you want to take it off?” 

Eddie bumbles through his words as you giggle at him, his usual confident demeanour evaporated at the thought of your body. 

“Eddie you dingus, you've literally seen me in my underwear before!” 

“Well, yeah… but that was before you, er, filled out.” 

It was a long time ago. A hot Summer spent running around the trailer park hitting each other with water balloons. You'd almost forgotten how far back it was.

“You don't have to be scared of my boobs ya know.” 

Eddie scoffs, hitting you playfully with a flick of his finger on the tip of your nose. You grab it, trying to bite it but he's pulling it away and you follow. It turns into yet another wrestling match as laughter rings from the pair of you. He tries to hold his hand up high but then you straddle him. 

Suddenly, his arm goes limp and you pull the offending digit into your mouth triumphantly, nibbling softly. It's then you realise you're straddling his stomach and he's completely lost, staring at the way your skirt is wrinkled. 

Play fight discarded, you shimmy down his body and revel in the little shaking breath Eddie makes as you sit gently on his crotch, the hardened bulge pressing into your clothed heat. 

“Fuck, you're so warm.” 

You blush as his fingers dig into your hips as if afraid you'll disappear. 

“You can feel that, through your jeans?” 

He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels straight to your tummy, letting loose a cascade of butterflies. 

“Feel it? It's like a freaking furnace. Bet it'll feel amazing inside you.” 

It's just Eddie, running his mouth; in fact it seems he didn't mean to say that out loud judging by the look on his face. He always has an issue separating outside thoughts and inside thoughts. It was so casually spoken though, you don't think he realised just how dirty it sounded. 

Your fingers smooth up his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact, pulling his shirt up with them. 

“Really hot when you say stuff like that.” 

You're embarrassed admitting it, but you're so turned on that he needs to know how much his words affect you. Mostly so he'll keep using them.

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm.” 

You're dragging nails over his abdomen, tugging his t-shirt higher and higher. He doesn't seem to mind, firm hands pulling your hips slowly back and forth. So you take a shot, and yank it up high. He gets the message, lifting his arms over his head so you can fling it off and away. 

There's no subtlety to the way he pulls at your top, sitting up to wrench it off you. He's panting, eyes raking over your red cotton bra as if you were in the finest lingerie. Then your lips crash together, desperately exploring each other's mouths, teeth clashing in urgency. You collapse on top of him as he holds your hip with one hand, guiding you over his hardness as the other palms your breast over your bra. 

That feeling is back, the burning tingling mass of arousal clutching your insides, growing and growing quicker than ever. You rut against him, each pass sending a zip of sensation all the way from your clit to the tips of your toes. 

Moaning in his mouth, you break away and he nips at your neck, rough fingers snaking into your bra to clumsily rub your nipple. You cling to his waist tightly as the feeling mounts, and mounts, and finally- 

“Eddie! Oh- oh fuckin’ hell!” 

It happens. The thing that had never happened to you outside of your own late night desperate fumblings. It flows like liquid fire through your veins, buzzing across your skin in a wild burning sensation that takes you utterly by surprise. Your sounds are feral; incoherent and needy, as your thighs grasp him firmly as if in fear of him moving away. 

After a loaded silence, whilst you both breathe, and breathe, you finally unclasp your legs around him, falling to the side in an ungainly heap of arms and legs.  

“Well. Holy fucking shit.” you laugh nervously, legs shaking with the after effects.

“So, not too weird?” He smiles, taking the opportunity to get on top of you, arms either side of your head. 

“It's a little weird. Only ever, you know, came, on my own, so yeah.” 

“Yeah?” The cocky look is back, a hand trailing down your shoulder to rest on your breast. 

“Can I take this off, please?” 

You smile and lift your back up so he can slide his hand behind you, fumbling around to try and get the clasp, swearing under his breath. 

“I don't know, can you?” You question, stifling giggles. 

“You could just help me, you know, you-you devil woman- Oh wait I did it!” 

The clasp springs free and Eddie's proud smile nearly splits his face apart as he eagerly pulls down the straps. 

“You're such a goofball.”

“You've got amazing tits, Jesus Christ.” 

Heat flushes your chest and before you can retort he's kneeling between your legs, hot mouth sucking roughly on a nipple. Words fail you, your body the only thing talking as you arch your back and push toward his greedy lips. Letting go with a loud pop, he sucks a hickey right in the middle of your sternum, running his thumb over the wet mark after. 

“I wanna go down on you.” He blurts it out, spill words tugging out of his lips before he can stop them. 

“You wanna what?” You respond, dazed as he looks up at you, eyes full of fire. 

“I wanna use my mouth on you. Down here.” 

He drags his fingers low, pressing one just to the top of your mound. 

“You really want to?” As far as you're aware, that's not a thing guys tend to want to do. At least that's what you've heard. Eddie seems to be an exception. 

“More than anything.” He's brutally honest, eyes wide and begging. 

“I mean, if you want to, sure.” 

“OK, shit, just wait a sec.” 

Getting up so fast it must make his head spin, he unbuttons his jeans and wrestles them down his legs, tossing them away. The tent in his boxers makes your eyes widen.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he climbs back on the bed. 

“Sorry, just so fuckin’ hard it hurts.” 

Nothing can stop the whimper that shoots out of your mouth at his words. Again, he's just being honest, but he doesn't seem to understand how sexy it is. 

Moving to unzip your skirt, he bats your hand away to do it himself. Before he pulls it off, he looks at you nervously. 

“Just, let me know if you don't like something. Or if you do. I've er, I've not done this before so lower your expectations.” He laughs it out, embarrassment coating each word. 

“I thought you had a bunch of hook ups at The Hideout?” You tease, smirking at him. 

“Right, full disclosure, I've erm, used my fingers before, a few times. And once- once some girl tried to give me head and I busted in like three seconds, OK?” 

He grabs a bunch of his hair and hides behind it while you chuckle. 

“Eddie, it's fine, I'm glad you told me. It's just me. I'm not gonna judge you, you know that.” 

“Yeah, of course.” The breath he lets out is loud, tension melting from his body, and he bends to pull your skirt down and off. Your panties are next; they cling to your core so much it makes you cringe, but he doesn't seem to mind. 

“Can you, spread your legs a little sweetheart?” His voice is husky, eyes staring straight at your pussy. Feeling exposed, you do as he asks, fighting the urge to pull away from his gaze. 

“Look at you. Beautiful.” 

Smiling at his words, it turns into an open mouthed gasp as he strokes his fingers softly through your folds. 

“Fuck me, you're soaked.” 

Then his tongue is slipping across you, feeling tentatively as he keeps your legs wide with his rough palms. It's different; wet and messy, but it's incredible. The pleasure increases tenfold as his wandering mouth finds your clit. 

“Eddie, right there, right there!” 

He groans, pushing his face into you so hard you can feel the vibrations from the noise. He's moving his tongue up and around it, making an absolute mess of spit and slick over you. Suddenly he tries sucking and your back leaves the bed, hands coming to clutch at his hair. 

“Oh my God, do that again, please please, oh fuck!” 

He does it again, and again, smoothing each suckle with a flat lick from his tongue. Fingers graze your hole suddenly, making you jump. As you look down you see Eddie's entirely consumed by what he's doing, rutting himself into the mattress like an animal. One finger breaches you, feeling around, pumping slowly in and out. It's good, but it's not great. 

You feel ashamed even trying to guide him but you attempt to shake it off. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” He looks up, an almost dazed expression in his eyes. 

“Can you- can you curl your finger upward?” 

“Like this?” 

Your reaction is instantaneous, hips rucking up to his touch. 

“Fuuuck.” 

“Yeah? That good, sweetheart?” 

That smugness is back but it isn't in you to care. There's no words, just little whimpers and moans as you grab him by the hair and push his mouth back where you need it. 

When he adds another finger, you're gone. Your walls are clenching around him, sucking him in as the feeling of his thick digits stretching you fills your entire being. Dots dance in your vision as your whole body feels fuzzy, tingles whispering over your skin. You cry out as the feeling escalates, bubbling through you until you can't see, can't think, clawing at Eddie's head until you reach an impossible precipice. Then, it explodes, showering you in waves, over and over. 

“Oh my God that was amazing, fuck Eddie, you're incredible, I never came that hard in all my life, Jesus Christ!” 

You're babbling, you know, bubbles of platitudes popping out of your mouth in almost nonsensical sounds as your legs twitch like crazy. 

Eddie scoots up a little, face pressed into the plush of your stomach. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Leaning up on your elbows, you pull his hair a little making him look at you. 

“You alright there? What'd you say?” 

Eddie laughs, kissing your tummy, face flushed pink. 

“I said I fuckin’ came in my pants.” 

Then he hides again, as if your skin can cover his embarrassment. 

“Eddie, come here you dope.” 

He climbs up you, leaning on quivering arms. The front of his boxers pushes on your sticky core. 

“Don't worry about it, that's kinda hot.” 

“Yeah? You're hot. That was, wow. I think I found my favourite place.” 

You giggle, pressing kisses to his lips. There's still traces of you on him but you don't care. 

“Can you tell me what you said again?” He asks, grin fighting to envelop his whole face. 

“Huh?” 

“You know, how I'm the most incredible lover in existence.” Waggling his eyebrows at you, he strokes a wayward hair off of your sweaty forehead. 

“I did not say that!” 

“I'm paraphrasing, it was pretty close.” 

You hit him on the chest playfully and he falls to the side in a terrible act of mock pain. Crawling on top of him, you continue to smack him, fake punches thrown at his ribs. 

“OK, you win, I cannot best you!” 

Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles and you melt against him, pressing soft kisses to his mouth. They turn harder, tongues massaging each other as he runs his hands down your back. 

You break away to plant a single kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“Maybe in a bit, you know, when you've… recovered…” 

Dragging your nails down his lean chest you look up at him, biting your lip. 

“We can… go all the way?” 

Eddie's face lights up. He grabs you and flings you down so he's on top, kissing your neck and jaw sloppily as you squeal at the sudden onslaught. 

“Yes, fuck yes, gimme like two minutes, five tops.” 

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM so I don't lose the request, thank you)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[keeksandgigz]

the love witch

modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader

summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.

cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe

word count: 4.8k

this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker. 

Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on. 

He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.

Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.

And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life. 

Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.

He stops doing that once he meets you. 

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.

He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp. 

He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door. 

“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd. 

“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.

You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess. 

He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs. 

“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you. 

You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips. 

He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks. 

His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog. 

“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store. 

It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman. 

It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes. 

You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.

Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.

He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.

Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.

A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.

Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.

Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.

And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.

Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.

Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.

The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.

"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.

"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.

"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.

"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.

The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.

A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.

"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.

"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.

"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.

He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.

"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.

Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.

"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.

He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.

A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.

"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.

There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.

"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.

So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.

With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.

Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.

"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.

He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.

He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.

You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.

After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.

Eddie Munson has a birth chart.

Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.

Whatever that means.

You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.

He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.

Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.

"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.

He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.

"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.

"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.

You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.

"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.

"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.

You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.

"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.

Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.

And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.

Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.

He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.

"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.

He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.

"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.

"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.

"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.

Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate

He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.

"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.

"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.

You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.

"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.

"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.

Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.

Herbs, oils and a new card deck.

"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.

"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.

Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.

He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.

"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.

"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.

"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.

"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.

You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.

"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.

"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.

He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.

"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.

"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.

He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.

He is a weak, weak man.

He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"

Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.

"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.

You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.

He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.

You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.

"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.

"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.

"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.

Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.

"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.

"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.

You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.

Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.

"What's that, baby?" he asks.

"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.

He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.

"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.

"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.

It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.

"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.

"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.

Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.

A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.

"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.

"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.

A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.

"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.

And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.

Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.

You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.

"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.

You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.

"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.

You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.

"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.

He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.

Like he is nothing without you.

Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.

He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.

"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.

"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.

He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.

Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.

Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.

Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.

His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.

Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.

But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.

Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.

"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.

And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.

He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.

"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.

"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.

"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"

"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.

"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.

"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.

You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.

You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.

You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.

"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.

"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.

He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.

He raises an eyebrow.

Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.

He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.

Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.

mini taglist: @strangerstilinski, @stuckonthefiction, @elegantkoalapaper, @gravedigginbbydoll, @eddiesxangel, @reidsbtch, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticharrington, @hideoutside, @monstxrteeth, @the-local-pendeja, @thornsnvultures, @strangerfreaks, @unverifiedmeatsuit, @strangerfreaks, @starlitlakes, @thebejeweledwatercat, @aphrogeneias, @chrrymunson, @amira0303, @paradise-summertime, @onegirlmanytales, @piecsesrising, @feralamdtiredrat, @m0llygunn , @angel-upon, @lavendermunson, @cowboylikemunson

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day one

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

kink: cream pie

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, unprotected p in v, cream pie

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

The day you got on birth control, Steve was like a man possessed. You had raised the premise nonchalantly, whilst the boy was between your legs, tongue swirling around your pussy as you blurted out the fact that you had now been prescribed a certain little pill. 

You had stopped him in his tracks, his wide brown eyes looking up at you from the apex of your thighs, your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Your fingers went to his hair, raking through the soft strands pulling the boy from his trance. 

“Does that mean—?”

“Yes,” you cut him off, bucking your hips just enough to urge him back to what he was doing before.

“Fuck,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your doughy thighs in a bruising grip. Putting all his attention back to your dripping core, working you as best he could.

Steve’s eyes were closed as he groaned obscenely into your pussy, licking and sucking on your aching clit. You were soon hurtling towards the edge, sparks shooting through your body as your vision went fuzzy and your head went dizzy. Fingers tugging on Steve’s hair as you ground your pussy on Steve’s mouth.

The boy made quick work of his own underwear before sitting on his hunches between your legs, stroking over his stiff cock as he gazed at you through hazy eyes. Spitting in his palm, he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his free hand found itself placed on your thigh, thumb stroking soothingly over the sensitive skin.

So you hooked your legs over Steve’s hips, your feet crossed at the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. Your foreheads were almost pressed together, the points of your noses knocking as you whispered against his lips, “Please.”

“Shit, okay—,” Steve murmured, swallowing the lump in his throat, exhaling a moan against your lips as he let the tip of his cock press into your hole. A moan which you gladly swallowed.

Steve began to roll his hips slow and deep against your own, his cock dragging out of your pussy at an agonising pace only for your cunt to suck him back in every single time. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his large palm clutching at your hip.

The sweet little moans and whines you breathed out below him along with the intense feeling of you wholly wrapped around him was pushing him towards his climax embarrassingly fast, the boy blurting out, “I don’t know, fuck, how much longer I can last, baby,” he whined, his skin shone with a thin sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, “pussy feel so. fucking. good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you cried, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he picked up the pace now, his hips snapping against your own, the sound of skin slapping against skin sounding throughout your bedroom. All your thoughts incoherent, all your attempt at sentence complete nonsense as Steve fucked his thick cock in and out of your cunt.

Poor Steve tried to hold off as long as he could but it was no use, you felt too good, too warm, too wet. He tried to savour every moment of this latex-free rendezvous but the way you clenched around him with every thrust really did a number on his brain. He slithered a hand between your bodies in an attempt to lazily rub at your clit, egging you on to finish with him.

“Baby, I gotta cum,” he whined, hips beginning to stutter, his stomach beginning to tense, “where can I cum, pretty girl? Please tell me, fuck.” He pleaded, begged rather. The intense feeling building up in his lower stomach was becoming too much to bear.

 “Inside me,” it came out strangled, a hoarse moan as you whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s broad shoulders, raking up his tan skin, “want you to cum inside me, Stevie, please?”

Cock growing impossibly stiffer, his heart thumping on overtime, if he wasn’t buried inside you to the hilt he’d ask you to pinch him. The pure thought of seeing his cum leaking from your pussy, the creamy white thick and warm inside you, sent Steve into overdrive.

He held himself up on his elbow whilst his hand cupped your cheek, his lips hot and wet on yours in a searing kiss. His hips still working against you, his fingers still rubbing at your puffy clit, both of your climaxes on the brink.

“Just like that,” you cried, “don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You arched your back off the sheets, pressing your chest against Steve’s hairy one, your skin buzzing as everything became hot and tingly, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, his hips unrelenting against you, “gonna stuff you full of my cum, pretty girl, is that what you want, huh?” He asked, “Wanna have my cum dripping from that pretty little pussy?”

“Yes!” you whined, pleading with Steve to give you what you wanted, which he always did. His thrusts began to grow sloppy, the boy taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he came undone above you.

Steve moaned that sweet little moan as he filled you with his cum, his chest heaving as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on your skin tough. His thighs shook as his toes curled, grumbling and groaning incoherent mumblings of praise and pussydrunk filth.

The sight before him when he finally pulled his cock from you was one he would never forget. Your pussy wet with your own juices and creamy with Steve’s cum leaking from your hole. He reached his fingers out to you, careful not to overstimulate you, spreading the stickiness over your puffy lips.

Having you spent like this, dripping with Steve’s cum was truly a sight for very sore eyes.

[carolmunson]

orange colored sky (older!modern!eddie)

older!modern!eddie - setlist inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i got to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. manip by my fave @eddiemunsons-missingnipple tw: nothing really, very much a meet cute at a grocery store. eddie is in his early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. lemme know if you guys want this to be a whole thing.

the automatic doors rush cool air into your face, a sweet reprieve from the sticky heat of this summer. a much muggier july than you remember having as a kid. but then again, you don't remember that much about being a kid these days. trader joe's is a little busier than usual, which makes sense with the holiday weekend coming up -- but you hate when it's busy. there's already too many sounds -- some summer 90s playlist and the squeaks of the carts, people in their hawaiian shirts milling around with boxes and box cutters. you just want some snap peas for god sakes. 

you grab a basket and adjust your canvas bags on your shoulder, tossing your headphones in them for later. you feel 'running errands ugly' but everyone seeing you in the bike shorts you threw on this morning doesn't think that view is ugly at all. your music drowned it out on the train ride over here. you're already sort of annoyed. people just don't know how to do anything anymore -- why are we just standing in front of produce. get what you need and go! you think hastily. but you wait for people to stop gawking at the produce and make their selection before you grab the romaine, snap peas, and shredded brussel sprouts you need. when you turn you almost walk entirely into someone's cart, eyes flitting up briefly and muttering a 'sorry, s'cuse me'.

can everyone just get off my fucking ass? you huff to yourself internally. you maneurver over to fruits, a few stands in a row -- citrus, apples, berries. all separated by category in large cargo looking boxes. you snag a big box of cherries, the three pound one, knowing you'll go through the small ones too fast. you frown over the lack of watermelon, continuing along while someone turns the corner into your aisle. you look up for a moment, just to scan your surroundings, to see who it is.

 you've never seen him before, but you've never seen anyone here before. it's not like there's regulars at the grocery store in a city like this. his hands hang over the handle to his cart by the wrists, knuckles tattooed in shapes you can't make out. you follow the leather banded watch up to a full sleeve of ink, only obscured by the start of a cuffed t-shirt sleeve, a crisp white that blinds against the black of the elvira pin up tattoo on his tricep. horror icons blending into each other seamlessly. you can see more black and color peeking out from the collar of his shirt --vintage judas priest, mint condition, tucked comfortably under a well perserved denim vest covered in patches of bands you've never heard of. you're surprised by the black chino shorts on his bottom half, not expecting someone who was clearly still stuck in their grunge phase to wear those over cut off jeans. the busted up reebok's on his feet make up for it though -- pairing nicely with the tattoos on his calves and thighs, not quite sleeves, but enough to make a statement. 

you grab a box of strawberries and pop them into your basket, surveying the mangos on the top shelf at your eye level while he maneuvers behind you. you think he's cute but you don't take too much stock in it -- it's so like you to have a 'train boyfriend' or 'trader joe's boyfriend' for a brief moment in time. someone cute that you spot outside and never speak to. it's one of those days.

he has brown eyes and thick lashes, hair dark wrapped in a bun on the top of his head with streaks of silver poking through, bangs in his face. some curls stick to the heated skin by his neck and jaw. not that you're looking. the scruff on his face is littered with salt and pepper -- maybe that part of him aging more than the rest. he grabs a heap of bananas to his nearly empty cart. he also has a big box of cherries in there. he wears a cologne with spice and suede in the notes, it's familiar, a little smoky. maybe an old boyfriend used to wear it. you shrug it off, grabbing a mango or two and popping it in a produce bag before hocking it in. more veggies for a greek salad. an onion. some pre-packaged turkey slices. 

you turn into the first frozen food section, weaving through more people who just stand there and you grit your teeth. you snag some frozen broccoli, the coolness bringing you a moment of calm so that you don't lose your mind inside the store. more like traitor joe's. you grab a few more things, a veggie medley for a tofu scramble, some scallion pancakes that you’ll use as meal replacement because no matter how many times you think you’ll food prep you never do. you see him at the end of the aisle, rifling through bags of frozen shrimp to find one he likes. you notice he has a ring on but it’s on his pointer finger, two more rings on the hand that holds his cart by his hip – a silver chain dangles from what you assume is his wallet in his back pocket. his keys jingle from a carabiner by his front belt loop. slut, you think to yourself. you grab a bag of small frozen salmon filets, not paying much mind to your grocery store boyfriend of the week when you turn the corner to the next frozen food aisle. he’s there not soon after you, grabbing frozen fruit medleys and a few bars of chocolate on the non-frozen shelving above. you aren’t sure if he sees you, but you see him. you can smell the suede and spice of his cologne as his moves past you to the other end. bread is on the back wall of the store, you want to get sourdough but you know you’ll just eat it plain and not make sandwiches so you opt for the tuscan loaf instead. you snag a bag of mini bagels, forgoing the small baguettes this time. you can’t afford the good burrata this week for any special girl dinner you come up with, so it’s best to not have it around if you can’t pair it with anything pretty. further down the back wall you get to snacks and don’t ignore the bag of yogurt covered pretzels – a basket must. seaweed snacks for salmon rice bowls. plantain chips. Your basket feels a little heavy but at least this errand is almost over. you turn down the pasta, beans, and rice aisle and there he is turning down the other end. you both catch each other this time, because this time feels like it’s not a coincidence. you both break eye contact as quickly as you make it, both of you looking down and smiling to yourselves. you feel the heat on your cheeks but you don’t see his blush, both of you too preoccupied with whatever you have to pick up to pay attention to the other. you smell the suede and smoke even after you lose him to the next couple of aisles. 

pre-packaged tortellini, lox, shredded cheese. chicken thighs. a six pack of some pretty sounding beer you’ve never tried. your basket overflows but it’s fine. the errand is over, at least here, before you need to run into target which for some reason is far less overstimulating. he’s a few people ahead of you on the opposite line, still leaning over the edge of his cart with his hands hanging, one thumbing a text to someone before he stands up fully to push the cart ahead. he looks over his shoulder and your eyes briefly meet for a moment – heat on your cheeks – before he moves ahead to turn down the long row of cashiers to pay. you don’t see him when it’s your turn and by the time you’re done paying you’ve already forgotten about him, lost in a flirty conversation with the guy ringing you up. target only has half of what you need and that’s fine because nothing else will fit in the big canvas bags you brought with you for your groceries and it’s at least an eight minute walk back to the train. you groan when you get back out into the heat, the boiler room of the subway cooking you as you make it down to the platform. a pleasant sigh passes your lips when you see it’s at least only a four minute wait until your train makes it to you – only a few more minutes of suffering before you’re on your way back to your air conditioned studio apartment. you look across the platform where some old lady’s push cart rattles as it makes it down the stairs on the other side. her little body walking ahead, a voice saying ‘i got it, ma’am don’t worry,’ echos down into the chamber of the subway.

there he is. a canvas bag on each arm filled to the brim and the push cart lifted in front of him. while you can’t see from this distance, you have a feeling you’d like how his arms looked at full capacity like this. the cart’s metallic jingle continues when he places it on the concrete ground, pushing it over to the woman who now sits pleasantly on the bench. you watch their conversation while they say quiet ‘thank yous’ and ‘your welcomes’ to each other and he checks his phone while he finds a spot to stand, waiting for his train on the opposite side.

you check your phone just the same and look up again as he puts his phone in the pocket of his vest. his attention catches on you from across the way.

he gives you a small wave and smiles. he has a nice smile, infectious.

“hi.”

you wave back with two fingers, a small salute, “hey.”

“i’m eddie,” he starts as the red glow of the light on your train starts to pull in. 

the chug, chug, chug starting to drown him out. he raises his voice with a boyish grin, you hear him just before the train obscures him from view – whooshing past you as it pulls into the station. “i normally go to trader’s on wednesdays!”

you get on the train when the doors open, seeing him still on the platform, searching for you in the windows. you put your hand up again in an awkward wave and he grins when he finds you. ‘stand clear of the closing doors, please!’ he puts a hand back up with two fingers, mouthing out a message. ‘wednesdays around two.’

you give him the okay symbol with your fingers and nod at him, chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation, he chuckles too. his smile is pretty, lips are full. his two fingers point to his eyes and then at you – ‘see you then’. 

the train pulls away before you get a chance to reply. 

next

[thelovelylolly]

can i get number 26 “can you picture it? you and I together?” with eddie munson please?

Pictures

Summary: While going through your polaroid pictures, Eddie let's his real feelings slip Warnings: none (just not proofread lol) Word Count: 760 Notes: first eddie fic in a hot second, but thank u for the request !

Your box dedicated to polaroids was overflowing. You decided to clear some out, knowing that some of them were of people who weren't in your life anymore or they didn't develop right. You dumped all of them out on your bed and started to sift through them all.

That's when Eddie dropped by. Well, 'dropped by' meaning he crawled in through your window and almost gave you a heart attack even though you were used to him coming in your window at random times.

"Hey, Eds. What's up?" You asked, smiling as he fixed his jacket.

"Eh, nothing much. Thought I'd come see what you're up to," he answered, his gaze quickly falling to the giant pile of polaroids in front of you. "Woah, what are you up to?"

You giggled as he sat down next to you on your bed, making sure to take his shoes off before bringing his legs up.

"I'm clearing out my polaroids. My box was getting full," you replied.

"But they're all memories! You can't get rid of them!" He said, picking up a random polaroid. It wasn't well developed, but you could make out you and Eddie in cliche ghost-sheet costumes. You two wore those stupid sheets to sneak into a Halloween party neither of you were invited to, and it surprisingly worked.

You took the polaroid and put it back in the box with the rest you were keeping, the box nearly halfway full. "I gotta figure something out then."

You got back to work, ignoring the way Eddie's eyes stayed on you. You could feel his gaze on you, then quickly go away. You weren't bothered that he would look at you when you weren't looking at him, in fact, you wanted it. You liked it and how it left butterflies in your stomach and you face warm.

Eddie looked over the pile, a photo strip standing out to him. He picked it up and held it closer, quickly realizing where and when it was taken. It was late August and the state fair was in town. There was a photo booth with a huge line, but you wanted to get a picture with Eddie regardless of the wait time. You two stood in line with your greasy fried food and cotton candy, and when you finished it, it was your turn.

You and Eddie had to squeeze inside the tight booth, but you two made it work. You slipped the five dollars in and you both laughed as you tried to come up with different poses. The last picture on the strip had you smiling so wide, Eddie was sure your cheeks were hurting afterwards. In the picture, he saw himself looking at you with the most lovesick gaze he'd even seen.

Was he always that obvious?

"Can you picture it?" He asked out of the blue. "You and I together?"

You giggled. "We are together-"

"No, I mean like, together together."

You both set the pictures you had in your hands down and looked at each other. You could see the pink on his cheeks and you could feel your own cheeks heating up. You smiled at him, the same smile you had in that photo booth.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to get another box for polaroids of us," you answered.

Eddie reached out and cupped your cheeks, smashing his lips to yours. You were both giggling and the kiss was messy, but it was good. It was quick, too, the two of you pulling away with huge smiles on your faces.

"Oh, wait!" You quickly said, an idea popping into you head. You pushed yourself from you bed and hurried to your desk. You grabbed your polaroid camera, checking the film inside as you made your way back to Eddie on your bed.

You sat next to him and handed him your camera. "Here, hold it out and aim it at us."

"Whatever you say sweetheart," he replied, a smile still on his face as he did as you said.

You wrapped your arms around him and right before he hit the button to take the picture, you pressed your lips to his cheek. A quick flash happened, then you pulled away. Eddie handed the camera back to you and you both waited for the picture to print and develop.

When it did, it was perfect. Eddie's big, boyish smile and you giving you a smiling kiss on the cheek.

"I think this is my new favorite picture," you said.

"I think it's mine, too, sweetheart."

[aestheticaltcow]

Mom Bod

Sorta a continuation of my Billy fatherhood headcanon...

“Hey baby, have you seen the sunscreen?” you asked, stepping into the bathroom. Billy shook his head. “A little sun never hurts,” he laughed as he put his toothbrush on the counter by the sink. “I feel like our eight-month-old doesn’t need a little sun,” you laughed, digging through your toiletry bag. “Joey is gonna love this beach. I used to come here with my Mom.” “Fatherhood softened you, Billy- you sentimental bastard.” Billy rolled his eyes before swatting at your ass after you’d found the sunscreen can. “Billy!” you playfully scolded, much to his amusement.

Billy smiled as his ears filled with his son’s happy giggles, “You like the ocean, don’t you, Joey?” he asked, holding him tightly as gentle waves crashed over them. As the water hit his tiny toes, he couldn’t help but kick his feet in excitement. Billy looked over to see you sitting on a towel, nose buried in some cheesy romance novel, “Let’s get Mommy to join us, sweet boy.”

Your attention had fixated on knights courting princesses when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a pair of lips brush against your cheek, “You know I could do that to you if you want…” Billy chuckled, looking at the page you were on. You rolled your eyes and looked at the end of the towel to see Joseph happily digging his hands into the sand, babbling to himself. “Come in the water with us, Mommy- Joey's lovin' it.” you blushed at Billy’s use of ‘mommy.’ As much as you loved your son and being his mom, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little self-conscious about your stretch marks. While you felt like your body ‘bounced back,’ the stretch marks only got darker. “Baby, look at that sweet little boy. How can you say no to that face?” 

You pulled the material of your swimsuit bottoms in all directions as waves rushed past your knees. Joseph giggled as Billy splashed water up at him. You laughed as you watched Joseph wiggle in Billy’s arms. He looked you up and down as he balanced the baby on his waist. He licked his lips casually. You noticed him checking you out and felt a wave of insecurity crash over you, moving your hands to cover your exposed lower stomach. You should have bought a new swimsuit- Billy stepped closer to you and ducked down to whisper, “You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” into your ear. You blushed and took the baby from his arms as you felt Billy cop a feel of your ass, “Such a fuckin’ MILF.”

[hellfirexwhore]

Come Back To Me - E.M.

BestFriend!Eddie Munson x reader

This is the first thing I have posted on here and the first fic I have written in a very long time, I hope you enjoy! 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied / posted as original work on any platform.

After an argument with your best friend Eddie, you're left wondering what it is that you did to set him off. You feel it might be something deeper than just not liking a guy that asked you out, but is Eddie going to have the nerve to say it?

Hurt/Comfort, Use of Y/N, Friends to lovers, Verbal fight

Wordcount: 2.8k

Memories of the night before cloud your mind as you wipe down the counters in your apartment, attempting to distract yourself with tasks and chores. You've already swept the floors, finished the laundry, and cleaned out the fridge, yet your mind is still lingering on the stupid fight you and your best friend Eddie had. The feeling of heartache won't go away, the anxiety growing more present as the hours pass. 

You and Eddie had never fought like that before. The look in his eyes as his voice raised was something you never wanted to see from the person who usually brings you the most comfort. You said some things you shouldn't have out of hurt and anger, he said some things he shouldn't have, and it all ended with him leaving your place in a huff, cutting the conversation off himself with no resolution. Being the stubborn man he is, you're unsure if he would even reach out and apologize. You knew you owed him an apology as well but the way the fight blew up is still something so confusing to you, and you don't even know if you should be the one to ask for forgiveness first. 

"So, I have some exciting news!" You say, passing a soda to Eddie before plopping down next to him on your couch, folding your legs underneath your body. He raises his eyebrows as if to ask you to go on, and gushing, you do. "You know that guy who's always flirting with me at work? Matt? Well I was cashing out his tab yesterday and he finally asked me out! Can you believe it?"

The messy-headed boy blinks a few times, processing what you've told him and tries to remember exactly who this Matt guy is. All of the sudden, it clicks. He furrows his brow as he pictures the douche constantly looking down your shirt and winking at you from across the bar. Eddie knows you don't notice his gross antics, conveniently for Matt, only noticing the sweet words and generous tips. 

"You mean the guy who brings a different girl to your bar every other weekend and stares at your tits the whole time?" Eddie huffs, eyes widening trying to get his point across. You look at him, puzzled. 

"What do you mean? He does not stare at my tits, and he's dating around, who cares? He's in his 20s, I'm in my 20s, it's what we do." You respond, disappointed that he's being so negative immediately. He's not even pretending to be excited for you like you have to pretend to be every time he says he has a date or one of your coworkers slips him her number. 

"Y/N, come on. He's a total tool." He sets his soda on the coffee table and crosses his arms, obviously annoyed. You didn't expect this reaction from him. 

"You can at least pretend to be happy for me, you know." You mutter, focusing your attention on your hands, not looking at his irritated face. He scoffs, shaking his head at you, still looking at your face though you refuse to look at his. 

"Happy that he finally got what he wanted and he's going to just get into your panties and then never speak to you again? Yeah, I'm elated." 

"Really Eddie? You think I'm just going to sleep with him? He asked me to get coffee, like a real date. I was excited about it." 

"You can be excited about it, but I know what's going to happen and I guess I just didn't think you were this naïve." 

That's where it exploded. The hurt look on your face must have gone unnoticed because he didn't let up. Over the next 15 minutes at least, words were thrown like stones, voices were raised, and by the time Eddie was called a dick and you were called a crybaby, the argument was too far gone. You didn't even fully process what had happened until your front door was slammed with Eddie on the other side of it, storming toward his van. 

Now here you are, alone and sad in your kitchen clutching a rag. You can't wrack your brain enough to find a reason why he would be so upset that you have a date with a guy he doesn't even know. You're not stoked about the dates he's been on or the girls he's been with, but you push that to the side for the sake of the friendship. Now that it's your turn, you expected some sort of positivity, fake or not. 

You've been harboring feelings for your best friend for as long as you can remember, but all of those feelings were pushed to the side years ago when you realized he would never feel the same way. If he did, he would have said something by now, so why hold on to something that won't happen? 

Hours passed and it felt like an eternity since you'd last seen your favorite person. The attempt to distract yourself has been a total failure all day, but at least your home was cleaned top to bottom. Nothing can get the words he said to your out of your mind and you were certain you would be thinking about it until you saw him again. 

Before you knew it, it was 10pm. You headed into your bathroom to attempt to make yourself more comfortable and get ready to cozy up for the night. Without thinking, you threw on one of Eddie's old Sabbath shirts he left at your place, a pair of black cotton shorts, and some comfortable socks that bunch around your ankles. After pulling your hair up messily into a clip, you hear a timid knock on your door. You can practically feel your stomach drop to the floor as you pad across your apartment to the front door. You peek out of the peep hole and to your surprise, an anxious looking Eddie is standing there. He's playing with his rings, twisting them on his fingers. 

You slowly unlock the door, taking a deep breath before you open it completely, taking a good look at your best friend standing there in an old Hellfire tee shirt and a pair of red and black pajama pants. 

"Hi." He says quietly, carefully stepping across the threshold when you open the door further to let him in. You close the door behind him and turn to see he's looking at your face, waiting to see if you're still mad at him. 

"I didn't think I'd hear from you today." You respond, walking to the couch to sit down, leaving room for him beside you. He sighs and takes the empty seat, still fidgeting with his rings, a nervous tick he's had for years. 

"I was going to go to bed but I've been thinking about this all day and I couldn't go to sleep again knowing you're upset with me." He's looking at you through the thick curtain his bangs create across his forehead, looking vulnerable and sad. You can't help but get lost in his baby cow eyes, but you're still unsure of what you're going to say to him. 

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to say, Eddie. I've been thinking about it all day too, sick to my stomach about it." It's true. You had been close to dry heaving since you woke up this morning, a knot in your stomach refusing to leave, solid as a rock, sitting as a burden. 

You don't like conflict, especially with the person you trust and love the most, yet here you are having to face the conflict itself as it sits in front of you looking like a scared puppy. Either tackle it now or it'll be left unresolved and make you sick for days to come, hell, even weeks. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten upset with you, I should have told you how I felt without getting mad." Eddie wants to grab your soft hands and hold them in his calloused ones. He wants to grab your face and drill his point into your pretty head of how sorry he is for getting so upset. You didn't deserve it. He knew that. He knew it was his stupid feelings getting in the way and he knew that if he let you go out with this Matt guy, he would end up with you crying on his couch, and that's something he can't stomach again. 

Eddie has seen you date other guys before, none of them ending particularly well, and he picks up the pieces of your broken heart each time, never one single complaint leaving his lips. A much as he loves you coming to him for comfort because he wants to give it, it shatters his heart to see you hurt. That's what's so fucked up about this. Instead of cleaning up someone else's mess, he needs to clean up his own because for once, he's the reason for your sadness.

"We both said things we didn't mean, Eds. I just don't understand where it all came from." It's your turn to fidget with your fingers, looking down at your hands and focusing on the chipped, dark green polish. You made a mental note to repair your manicure, but that can wait for a time you're not on the verge of tears. 

"Look, I'm happy someone asked you on a date and I would have been more supportive if it was anyone but him." Eddie replies softly. He seems genuine and solid in his opinion of the guy who made a move on you. You feel there's something deeper going on here, an alternative reason as to why he rubbed Eddie the wrong way, but maybe it was simply just Eddie trying to protect you. 

"What do you have against Matt? You've never even spoken to him. I don't understand." You say, looking up at the fuzzy-haired metalhead. Eddie shakes his head before he continues.

"He keeps an eye on you so I keep an eye on him. I know how he treats his dates. I see the way he looks at you and it's gross, Y/N. I got angry with you and I shouldn't have. If you saw the way he is when you're not looking, you would never have agreed to go out with him. You're not naïve, I'm sorry I said that." You don't notice the way Matt ogles you, even when he has a girl with him, but Eddie does. You don't notice the way he doesn't even pretend to care about whatever his date is saying to him, but Eddie does. You don't notice how he makes comments about your body under his breath, but of course, Eddie does.

"I didn't know.." You shake your head, grossed out by the way you were so blind to the way a guy who's been flirting with you for months, making you feel good about yourself, is actually a shitty guy and it wasn't just Eddie being ironically judgmental. 

"I know, sweetheart. I just get protective over you. You, Wayne, and Dustin are the most important people in my life and I just couldn't let you get treated badly by some asshole. That's no excuse though, and I really am sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Ed. I know you're just looking out for me." You place your hands on his, keeping his fingers in one place since he can't stop absentmindedly picking at them. He looks at your hands and sighs, running a thumb over the silky skin of the top of your hand. 

"No, don't apologize. I was a total douche last night and I don't feel good about it. I promise the next time you get a date, as long as he's not a predatory asshole, I'll pretend to be happy and give you the support you need." He doesn't even realize what he had said, but even if he did, it's too late to turn back now. He had been planning to say something for a while since pretending his feelings for you don't exist hasn't helped him one bit over the years. Everyone sees it but you, and he can't understand how but he kicks himself for feeling the way he does. 

"Pretend? Eddie, why would you need to pretend?" Confusion washes over you, and a little bit of hurt. If Eddie was your friend, your best friend at that, why would he need to pretend to be happy for you? Is he worried that someone else would take away from your time together? You've made it clear that you wouldn't let someone steal you away. He should know that by now.

"Look, I've been talking to Dustin and he told me to stop being a pansy, so here I am, not being a pansy." Eddie takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he opens them and catches yours in his gaze. He adores the confused look on your face, but can't keep this in anymore. "I don't want you to go on dates with other guys, Y/N." 

"I need you to think about what you're saying to me right now and how you're saying it." This isn't happening. You must be misunderstanding because there is no way Eddie is implying what you think he is.

"I know exactly what I'm saying and the way you invaded my mind today just solidified it. I need to get this off of my chest. I don't want you to date other guys because... I want you to just date me." He's speaking slowly, not because he's trying to dumb it down for you, but because he wants to be very clear in what his words mean. He wants you to know just how much he means this.

"Wh- huh?" Your mind is racing. The knot in your stomach is unraveling, but it's jumping around like a child on a trampoline. 

"I know, okay I'm not trying to make it weird. I know you're my best friend and I shouldn't be saying this to you and if you want, I can just leave, we can go back to normal, and pretend this conversation never happened. I'll get over you, it will just take some time, I'm sorry." He shakes his head, looking back down at your joined hands, pulling his away. You stop him before he can fully break the contact of your skin that's now suddenly burning at the touch. 

"Don't." You say abruptly. 

"What?" Eddie quickly looks back up at you and sees the soft look in your eyes. He searches them for any trace of doubt. 

"Don't get over me." You've never imagined yourself being so bold. You've never even imagined having this conversation with Eddie. 

"What are you saying?" What he's really asking is if you're messing with him. He's asking if you're confused, or misunderstanding, or playing some cruel joke on him. 

"I'm saying I want you. Jesus H Christ, I've wanted you for years but I never said anything because I didn't want to freak you out and ruin what we have." You've never seen Eddie's eyes light up so quickly. He looks like he's just been gifted Ozzy Osbourne in a box on his birthday. 

"What?! We could have been making out this whole time?!" He grasps your hands even tighter as you burst into laughter. Your giggles are music to Eddie's ears and he's just beaming.

"Eddie oh my god." You lean forward, the laughter subsiding. You place your forehead against his and you can feel his breath fan your face. You're still in shock. 

"I can't even tell you how fast my heart is beating right now. I think I might pass out." He breathes out. He laughs softly, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. 

"We can't both have heart attacks right now!" You say, smiling bigger than you have in a long time. You both just sit there for a few minutes, really taking in everything that's happening. This doesn't feel real, everything you've wanted for so long coming to be something that actually exists. Eddie wonders how he got this far without passing out or hyperventilating but for now, you're just relishing in each other. 

"So.. About the whole making out thing.." Eddie murmurs, his hands traveling to your hips and giving them a squeeze. 

"Shut up and kiss me, nerd." 

So he does. 

[rosewaterandivy]

the workin’ of my hands— a whatever’s still to come oneshot

summary: a stretched summer night between you and steve.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

word count: 2271

warnings: prosaic smut, too many metaphors, and an over abundance of chiaroscuro - the usual!

note: am I positively feral for unreal unearth? 100 percent yes, do you even know me at all?! like I’ve said, this series is a long way from seeing the light of day, but enjoy a lil’ taste in the meantime.

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not.

Enjoy! 💜

It feels destined and star-crossed, the way his heart kicks up when your fingers brush against his.

Finally worked up the courage to ask you out, and it’s holding hands that does him in?

He shakes his head minutely, biting his lip and tearing his gaze from you. Not noticing your upturned face, thinks you’re looking at the stars when in reality, you can’t stop looking at him.

So familiar yet so different from what you imagined he’d be.

No matter.

Not when he squeezes your hand and he cuts the engine of the beemer.

It was a casual date, all things considered; dinner at the diner followed by a movie. During which Steve had been a perfect gentlemen, opening doors and keeping his hands to himself.

He doesn’t exactly want to and would rather propriety be damned, but the thing is he likes you. Really likes you. To the point that Robin is getting sick and tired of his moping and making cow-eyes at you whenever you’re in Family Video.

“Shit, or get off the pot, Harrington.”

He snorts, and continues to stock the new releases across the shop. “Such language,” he taunts, “And from a lady, at that.”

Robin rolls her eyes and Steve swears he can almost hear it. “‘M tryin’ to give you some advice, dingus.”

“Uh huh,” he replies, walking back to the counter for another stack of tapes. “No offense Robs, but I think between the two of us, I’m the dating expert.”

Now it’s her turn to snort. “Okay, big guy.” She taps the keys of the computer idly, “Then when is the last time you’ve used this so-called expertise?”

“Pfft.” He rolls his eyes, “I dunno, like last week? Crystal or Christine— whatever her name was.”

Robin smirks, “You think that was last week? Try a month ago. Poor Christine only stopped calling you last week.”

Steve stops, a tape nearly falling from his grasp. The door chimes, signaling a customer walking in, and he nearly falls over himself trying to assist them.

Only to see you standing by the door.

Robin lets out a low whistle and busies herself at the counter. And Steve would like nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

You look divine.

A bright summer dress, skirt skimming just above your knees to reveal sun-warmed skin. The faint aroma of sunblock and chlorine clings to you, invading his senses while he forces his eyes upward.

The bodice of the dress is damp, clinging to your rib cage and waist; it’s clear you’d just come from the pool and had thrown the garment on as a cover-up, a lone bikini strap slipping down one shoulder and chest heaving.

You’re clutching a tape in hand, something you’d rented last week, and that’s when it all slides into place.

“I—uh,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “I forgot to return this earlier, how much in late fees?”

It’s at this point that Robin has the sense to make herself scarce.

“Oh,” Steve replies, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not a huge deal since it was due this morning.”

His free hand comes to take the tape from you. Your fingers brush for the briefest of moments before Steve is turning to deposit the tape with the other returns.

He tries to stifle the shudder that runs through him, the sensation of your soft skin against his.

“Did you like it?”

“Hmm?”

Steve clears his throat, “The movie, did you like it?”

“Sure,” you say, fingers lingering on the tapes he’d just stocked. “It was fine.”

How Steve got from there to here, on a bona fide date with you, he’ll never know. Though Robin is insistent, it has something to do with “the Harrington charm offensive.”

Usually, somewhere between dates three to five, Steve maybe gets his dick wet. If he’s lucky.

But you flutter your lashes and look up with those big doe eyes and he finds himself defenseless.

“Wanna come up?”

He all but stumbles up the stairs to your apartment, tittering giggles spilling from your mouth as you unlock the door.

Steve’s eager, and you like it.

Is it such a bad thing, that he’s desperate for more of your time?

It’s like his mind finally rests in your presence, his soul is at peace. No longer constantly looking over his shoulder for the next big, bad thing.

You quiet the agonies inside him.

Replace them with warmth and light.

His mouth is on you as soon as the door is locked. Boozy and warm, with the faintest hint of tequila from your drink at dinner. You sigh into the kiss and Steve swears it’s a sound he’s heard only in his dreams.

Heat licks up the ridge of your spine, Steve’s hands everywhere, as if he can’t get enough of you. Leading him from the entryway, your hands land on his hips fingers hooking into belt loops.

A gentle tug brings you both into the dim light of the bedroom. Hands glide up his chest to settle along his shoulders as your lips part from his with a soft click. He takes slow breaths, mindful not to pull from your orbit.

Your arms drape languidly around his collar, fingers idly caressing the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Eyes blown wide with lust, starry and enchanting; if he’s not careful, Steve swears he could get lost in them.

A slow smile graces your lips as your hands drift to his chest— a soft push sends his back to the downy duvet while you nudge his legs apart.

“Honey,” he rasps, running a hand through his hair, watching your deft fingers pop the button on his jeans. “You don’t have to—“

A disapproving cluck from you as you unzip the fly. “But I want to, baby.”

Steve’s dick jumps.

Baby.

Sticky sweet falling like spun sugar from your ruddied lips. He groans, eyes screwing shut and head falling against the pillow. He’s as good as gone now; your intoxicating smile and the working of your dexterous hand, freeing him from the confines of his boxers and sealing his fate.

Because Steve isn’t used to this— being cared for. He plans the date, picks her up, pays for dinner, drives her home, and pretty much does all the heavy lifting in the bedroom. He’s a generous lover, or so he’s been told.

“If you’re down for a good time, call…”

So to say he’s unprepared when you get your mouth on him and sluice him up with lover’s spit, is an understatement.

Steve’s soul could leave his body at this moment and he would be none the wiser.

Not when your pretty little mouth is wrapped around his cock in a smile. It’s everything he can do not to blow his load right then and there.

You work him up easily. Not that it’s that difficult, because he really, really likes you. Your hand working in tandem with what your mouth can’t fit and Steve is losing his damn mind.

The sounds are obscene.

Wet sucks and licks from your mouth, moans as you sink him further down, crushing against your molars. Low whines pouring from his own mouth, begging,

“Oh, fuck. Jus’ like that— ohmygod your fucking mouth.”

His hands cradle your head tenderly, like he can’t bring himself to believe that this is happening. And as heavenly as your mouth is, Steve knows, deep in his bones, that he has to be inside of you.

Like, yesterday.

“Honey,” he says, fingers sweeping along your jaw, coaxing you to look up.

When your eyes meets his, Steve has to stave off an orgasm from a particularly harsh suck of your mouth.

“C’mere,” it comes out more desperate than he’d intended, but you don’t seem to mind.

Fingers wipe away the lover’s spit that had gathered on your mouth and chin, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What is it, baby?”

Your voice is a wrecked low rasp, and pulls at something primal in his guts. The weight of you settles against his lap, a wiggle of your hips stoking the heat trapped in his veins.

Steve takes a moment to study you: wild hair from the torment on his fingers, eyes warm and glassy, lips slick and revealing a bright flash of teeth. The strap of your dress falls from your shoulder and he wants nothing more than to wreck you.

As if you can read his mind, you wink and reach back to unzip the dress. You pull the fabric up and away inviting the moonlight to gleam against your skin.

It steals breath.

His hand reaches out to trace the curve of your breast, earning him a lustful sigh that falls from your open, panting mouth. You’re so soft under his fingertips, Steve wants to get his mouth back on you, he has to.

But then you pull your pantries to the side and, oh god, is that hotter than he thought it’d be— only to grip the hot, firm line of him against your petaled heat.

Steve goes to say something, anything to warn you, that he can’t possibly fit. That you’re not loosened up enough. He hasn’t even eaten you out or worked your open on his fingers.

But all that comes out is a groan as he disappears into the divine, wet heat between your thighs.

Jesus Christ in Heaven.

“S’okay, baby,” you coo. “I can take it.” You lean closer, hair tickling his neck and breath fanning against his skin, “I was made for you.”

Steve has no idea what comes out of his mouth at that. Just thrusts up uselessly, hands holding firm to the flare of your hips. You chuckle lowly and brace yourself against his chest, finger nails scraping along his skin.

You ride him like it’s your job, alternating slow, winding thrusts with quick, percussive ones. You’re so tight. And wet. And hot. Half-lidded eyes trained on him, changing your tempo to suit his pleasure.

Steve can feel himself growing warm, heat climbing up his neck and chest. A rag-doll beneath you, a sheen of sweat along his skin, mouth open in a wet gasp. The quirk of your lips sends a rush through his veins, a low keen falling from his lips.

“Slow down, gonna come if you keep that up.”

You settle into a slow, lazy roll of your hips, but just barely.

“Why, don’t you wanna come, baby?”

He’s in so deep that his skin blooms with a shudder when his cockhead kisses your cervix.

“Big and filling me up so well, Stevie.” A plaintive moan erupting from your lips, accompanied by a vicious clench of your walls. “God, you feel so good.”

Steve smiles delirious and completely captivated by you. Extricates a hand to drag you back down to him, rests your forehead against his, as if your souls could become intertwined, and kisses you like he’s a dying man.

And, hell, he might as well be.

“Fuck,” rushes out in a hoarse breath. “Fuck!”

The room spins out of control and he can feel you smiling against his collarbone. You wind your hips and flutter your walls against him, as Steve grinds deeply into you. Steadies himself by palming at your hips, thumbs tracing the jut of bone there, as if it would ground him.

His orgasm crashes on him like a tidal wave, bringing with it a sense of deja vu— you and him but in a different time and place. Your eyes and smile remain the same, as does the feeling— a bone-deep sense of home.

But the clothes are different, as are the words that fall from your lips. Dappled in light from the moon or sun, the images keep coming and so does Steve.

“Philtatos,” you gasp, reaching your peak with a full body shudder. Steve’s hands anchor you to him, points of heat flaring against your skin.

And it’s glorious— you are glorious. Moonlight cutting through the shade of night to illuminate your pleasure. The clench of your cunt is nearly enough to make him come all over again, and wrests a strained moan from the confines of his throat.

By the time Steve comes to his senses again, you’re sponging open-mouthed kisses and bites to his neck and chest, a hand laid over the steady beat of his heart. You wiggle against his hips and thighs, wet and sticky between your legs.

He clutches at your waist, breaths evening out once more. Fingers trace the curves of your ribcage while he revels in the comedown.

“What was that thing you said? Phil—“

The crescents of your nails drag delightfully against his skin. “Philtatos.”

“Yeah, that.” Steve’s hand settles at the nape of your neck, playing with your hair idly. “What does it mean?”

You hum contentedly, nearly melting at his touch and earning a raspy laugh form him.

“S’like a nickname,” you supply softly. “It’s Greek.”

He doesn’t press further. More interested in the working of his hands, wants you boneless and sated spread out before him. His cock kicks up at the thought.

“Baby,” you ask, syrupy sweet.

“Uh huh.” He’s woozy.

“What’s your refractory period like?”

A shiver courses up his spine. He laughs and shakes himself alive, pulling up to take you down to the mattress. You acquiesce easily, back arching and lips searching for him in the near dark.

“Okay honey,” he says with a knowing lilt and grin, “Now it’s my turn to fuck you.”

[hairrington]

Best Thing I Never Had

Summary: When you dive into the terrifying depths of Lovers Lake, you expect to feel the usual when it comes to your recently dangerous adventures: worry, regret, and a big dose of fear. But when you notice the man you're falling for getting smitten with his ex, you realize even envy can be felt in the Upside Down.

In which female reader pines for Steve and gets very jealous when Nancy takes care of him! Some canon divergence! Gif credit: jackpearcsn

You have no right to feel jealous. You know that.

You've had months to tell Steve how you feel about him. Ever since you started working at Family Video, what you thought was harmless flirting snowballed into deep feelings, but you were always too scared to step into the realm of letting them be known.

It was risky. He could reject you and then what - you just keep showing up to your shifts pretending it never happened?

But who knew if you were ever even going to get up to the surface again? Now, the agony of yearning for a coworker felt ridiculous compared to your current situation.

But even with that, even with being in a terrifying demon-filled dimension deep beneath Hawkins, when Nancy is helping Steve with his wounds, touching his skin, envy creeps up your back like it has been every time you've seen the two of them together since you'd fallen for him.

Seeing and being touched by Nancy had sent Steve into a tailspin. Like always, he had felt a magnet pull towards her. Something about Nancy made his brain shut off and ignore any potential risks. Risks like being told he wasn't loved by her out of nowhere.

But every time he looked at you, he could ground himself a little. Meeting you felt like a reset. With you, Steve got nervous, but good nervous. With Nancy, it was like the type of fear he could only imagine one would feel teetering at the edge of a cliff. He couldn't quite explain why, but with you, it was like standing at the cliffside, but knowing he could never fall off.

But telling you this and crossing that line meant never going back. And the friendship between you, him, and Robin was just so great. If you felt the same, though, that'd be the best case scenario - but if not - well, that was the worst case because he'd lose you and mess up your dynamic forever.

Back when you started at the video store, you admitted to yourself that Steve was cute. It got even worse when you realized he's actually kind and sort of funny.

You found a friend in Robin and consequently Steve, and assumed it'd be a slow year of working shifts to earn money for college.

It didn't take long for you to realize nothing about your year was going to be normal.

When the kids you'd later learned were named Dustin, Max, and Lucas came in frantic and desperate for help, you listened from afar, trying to keep up with their hushed conversation.

"What's going on?" you finally said. All five of them stared at you with wide eyes.

"Uh, who's that?" the young redhead asked.

After a tense silence, Robin nervously scratched her head.

"You won't believe us if we tell you," Robin said to you.

"And trust me, it's better you don't know," Steve interjected.

His words stung. And partly out of spite, you pressed them for information.

Steve had been half-right about it being better that you didn't know. Because now were in a scorched wasteland drowning in red skies and spine-chilling screeching, wondering how the hell you were going to go back home.

But the other side of you knew you were a part of something important - you all could save Hawkins and stop Vecna from killing any more innocent people. And no matter how scared you were, you committed to this mission and knew you were doing the right thing.

But that didn't make watching Nancy tend to Steve any easier.

You sigh to yourself, sore from fighting off the horrific bats that had attacked you all when you swam through the gate, ready to journey to your next destination: Nancy Wheeler's house.

Or, rather, the Upside Down version of it.

You, Steve, Robin, Eddie, and Nancy trek through the murky woods. Your thoughts race and blend together - from trying to figure out how to get out of here, to how lucky you are that your parents aren't returning from their business trip until tomorrow evening so you don't have to worry about making curfew, to how bad the aching in your chest hurts over Steve being so obviously uninterested in you as anything but a friend.

The months of flirting were really just friendliness, weren't they?

A few minutes into the walk, with barely any words spoken, you feel an hand on your forearm.

You look up to see Steve's wide, kind eyes. He glances at the group walking in front of you two and his grip gets a tiny bit tighter to signal to you to stop.

Once they're out of earshot, Steve quietly speaks.

"Hey, I know this is a crap-ton to process." His voice is low. Sincere.

"Exactly that amount," you answer, pressure lifting off your chest like it always does when you talk to Steve. "A crap-ton."

He half-smiles, eyes sympathetic. You glance at the group and notice Robin's gaze is on you as they march forward, but she quickly nods in acknowledgement and turns back.

Steve begins to slowly pace and you mirror him, feeling your boots digging into soil. He lets go of your forearm and you wish he didn't.

"For what it's worth, you're adjusting way better than I did," Steve says. You smile gratefully.

"Really?"

"Oh, there was a lot of screaming."

You laugh.

"A crap-ton?" you ask.

"Maybe even two," Steve replies with a smirk. He continues to pace slowly, aiming his flashlight at your path. "But seriously, you look kinda... down. And I just wanted to say you're handling it like a champ. We'll get out of here, okay?" Hearing him say that sends your heart into flutters.

It's silly to think part of the reason you're noticeably moping is because your crush's ex-girlfriend is giving him a lot of attention and he seems to be loving every second. You slightly shake your head as if to dismiss the thought.

"You got out of here before, right?" you ask, already knowing the answer. You gaze up at him, his eyebrows furrowed.

Steve and Robin had already shared the bizarre history of Russians and monsters when they finally told you what was going on in Hawkins, but a piece of you was stuck in the reality you've always known. That piece of you still couldn't believe everything they told you, let alone that you were actually in a different dimension.

"Yeah," Steve confirms. "This is... a new neighborhood but yeah." When your smile doesn't match your eyes, his eyebrows furrow again.

"Sorry, that was supposed to be funny," he says. This earns a laugh from you and Steve's heart warms when he sees the smile on your face. "We'll get out. You can count on it."

The fact that he's taking the time to console you is exactly the reason you fell for him. His kindness. The long shifts at Family Video actually felt short when you worked with him - whether you were joking around, sharing tidbits about each other, or talking about your plans for the future. And within the conversations you'd shared those busy weekdays and dead weeknights, you felt you saw Steve for who he was. A man with a heart of gold.

It was always easy with him. Except when he was talking about his love life. One date story from Steve was one too many if you weren't the one he was on a date with. But still, you listened as he whined to you and Robin about his unluckiness, hoping one day, he'd wake up and realize what he wanted was right there. You were right there.

"Is it weird being around Nancy?" As soon as the question spills out of your mouth, it surprises you - maybe even more than it surprises Steve. Your jealousy has reared its ugly head and forced the impulse to ask before you could think to stop it.

"Kind of," Steve answers honestly, nudging his floppy hair off of his forehead. You stare up, wishing you could be the one to push his hair back. "Maybe that little jerk is right." Steve chuckles to himself, thinking back to Dustin telling him he was throwing himself at Nancy. "I'm... being a lost puppy, aren't I?"

You giggle, thinking back to a conversation you'd had with Steve only a few weeks ago. It was a slow Tuesday night, the store empty, and he was on rewind duty while you were organizing the "New Releases" section. He had broken the comfortable silence between you.

"You know what one of my high school buddies once said?" he asked.

"Something about sports?" you teased. "That's all boys talk about, right?" Steve laughed, the sweetest sound in the world to you. You had looked at him over the counter to see his chin resting in his hand as he gazed at the small television screen displaying the romantic comedy he was rewinding.

"He called me a lost puppy when I was with Nancy," Steve told you. The mention of her name made you tense up, but you hid it well. "And, I don't know, the dude in this movie staring at Michelle Pfeiffer just reminded me of that... I... It's stupid."

"It's not," you say, and even though the subject sends painful twinges of your heart, you love when Steve opens up like this. "Go on."

"I feel like I used to look at Nance just like that - like I would do anything in the world for her and it... it makes me feel dumb for not realizing she wasn't looking at me like that, too." Steve shakes his head, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "Dude, these romance movies are turning my brain to mush."

You laughed, continuing to stack the VHS tapes carefully so not to peel back any of the covers.

"Steve, there's nothing wrong with being a lost puppy. I'd love it if a guy was a lost puppy for me." You nervously chuckle. "I think... it's not stupid. And you'll find a girl who'll give you that exact look back. You deserve it."

Steve couldn't say it, but hearing those words come from you made butterflies not only fly around, but crash into each other into his stomach. If only he could ask if you'd love for that guy to be him.

"I do have that date with Lisa on Friday," he quickly deflected, already knowing he had no future with the girl who always zoned out when he spoke.

"There you go," you had answered, forcing an optimistic tone. As you stacked colorful rectangles, you swallowed the lump in your throat that always formed when you were reminded that Steve and you would only ever remain friends.

So when you're hiking through the damp forest in the Upside Down, unknown debris floating around, and Steve asks you if he's being a lost puppy, you only shrug. With how much it upsets you seeing them together, you don't know if you can answer that question without any bias.

"Oh God, that's a yes, isn't it?" Steve whines quietly.

You know it's just envy, but you had always thought Steve had been too nice to Nancy. From what you had heard, it seemed she had started her relationship with Jonathan before letting Steve know she didn't want to be with him anymore. Which shocked you, too. Who wouldn't want to be with him?

But you understood why he loved her. She was incredibly smart, confident, and beautiful. 

Steve hadn't spoken much about her other than that short conversation between you two a few weeks back, but he didn't need to for it to be obvious that she had broken his heart.

"Well," you begin, trying not to stare at his exposed chest under the denim vest Eddie had given him. Instead, you stare ahead at the group a yard in front of you, recognizing Nancy's hair and wondering what it was you lacked and she had that made Steve so lovesick for her. "I don't want to pry-"

"Oh God, please pry," Steve interrupts. You look at him again and share a knowing smile. You'd seen him desperate to understand girls only a thousand times before.

"Maybe it's unresolved feelings or... a lack of closure... I don't know," you say, rambling, trying to come up with something to say. You sigh and decide to be honest. Well, honest enough that you don't admit you're falling for him. "But if she... never made you feel like she loved you as much as you loved her, do you really want to go back to that?"

Steve's lips thin as he frowns, understandably nodding.

"I... don't know what lost puppy looks like on you," you continue, aiming to lighten the tension. "So, maybe you're not doing it again. But... I guess the question is: are you feeling anything when you're with her?" You brace yourself for the impact of his reply.

"I don't know," Steve mumbles, gazing down at the ground. "If I had to put in a word - maybe nostalgia? Like I'm remembering the good parts only?"

You could live with that. Ideally, he'd say he feels nothing with her like he feels when he's with you, but you've daydreamed about Steve enough and doing it right in front of him makes you cringe.

"As much as it kills me to say, though, it seems she's still into you," you muster up, knowing that it's not right to keep it to yourself.

"Why's it kill you to say it?"

Thankfully, you notice the group has stopped ahead, waiting for you before they make the next turn.

"Oh, they're waiting for us," you say, words rushed.

"Guess that's the end of my therapy session," Steve quietly mumbles. You laugh with him, nudging his shoulder and he nudges you back. You join the group, wishing you could speak to Steve just a little bit more. But you'll take what you can get.

When you make it to the Wheeler house and the five of you discover how to contact Dustin, you're left speechless. The communication between the two dimensions shakes you, and when you realize you'll have to go outside again to get to Eddie's trailer, you do your best to hide your fear. 

As your legs pump to ride the bike, hands gripping the handles, you hear the ominous thunder cracking in the sky above. You try to keep your breathing steady, following those in front of you, missing the comfort of the town on the other side of your journey.

Sure enough, Dustin was right - there's a gate on Eddie's trailer's roof. Somehow, defying all laws of physics, the five of you climb up the rope made of bed sheets and tumble down into the trailer.

The conversations that pour around you make your ears ring; the group discusses why the Upside Down is frozen in time, if there's any way to close the gates, how to stop Vecna... meanwhile you're just trying to catch your breath.

"Alright, alright," Steve says, raising his voice. He checks his watch. "It's... shit, it's way past 1 a.m. And how the hell are we all gonna get home?"

"Oh, he's laying down the law," Nancy cracks, making you smile.

"Really, Robin?" Steve mutters, but you can tell he's only half-annoyed.

"Wait a sec..." Eddie mumbles, pacing to the counter and digging for keys in a small box. He pulls out a key, clicks a button, and looks up to the sky. When we all hear a car horn, Eddie smirks. "I can't believe it's still here. Eddie's Taxi is open for business. As long as I can crash at someone's place because home sweet home is apparently a portal to hell now."

"You can crash at mine," Steve says. "Parents are out of town again."

"We can all cram into a Chevy, right?" Eddie asks.

"Challenge accepted," Robin says.

"We can just bike," Dustin mentions, motioning to himself and his three friends.

"Oh, no you can't," Steve interrupts. Seeing him protective like that makes it hard for you not to smile at him. You’re sure if you did, you’d look like a lost puppy.

Like sardines in a can, breaking several safety laws, you venture out in Eddie's car, head pounding over the overlapping conversations and the memories of all that you had witnesses.

The younger ones in the group get dropped off at the Wheeler home first, where sure enough, parents are angrily waiting. To your guilty relief, Nancy gets out then too.

"What's closer from here? Robin's or (Y/N)'s?" Eddie asks.

"I'm up on Chester," Robin says.

Now that you have some space to think, you gaze at the three faces turned towards you.

"Uh, actually, Steve, if you have room, could I crash there, too?" you finally say, stomach nervously turning. You don't want to say it out loud, but the thought of going into your empty home is terrifying.

"Of course," Steve quickly replies. You smile gratefully, staying silent for the rest of the drive to Robin's house, then Steve's.

The large home is decorated beautifully, but it seems cold. Like there is no sense of life here. No photos. Nothing truly lived in.

"Dude, you got a mega mansion," Eddie says with an impressed chuckle. "My trailer is smaller than your driveway alone. I should be depressed but I'm just amazed."

Steve only chuckles, shutting the door behind the three of you. The sound of the locks turning brings you some calmness, even though you know that couldn't stop the monsters you saw in the Upside Down.

"We have two couches and a guest room," Steve says, hands on his hips. In the light of his home, you can see the ash on his face, the cut of his muscles, the soaked blood on the cloth wrapped on his torso.

"The lady may have the guest room," Eddie says with a bow. You chuckle, unable to understand how he can be so chipper. Steve points him in the direction of the living room.

"I'll grab some clothes for you guys," Steve says. "Guest room's just down the hall there." You follow his pointing finger down the hallway wrapping past the staircase and nod, looking up at him with a grateful smile.

The guest room is just as untouched as the rest of the grandiose house. You sit on the edge of the white sheets on the queen bed in the center of the room, staring ahead at the hotel-esque painting on the wall.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you realize your legs are bouncing. You tighten your hands on your knees in an attempt to calm them.

You hear a gentle tap on the door.

"Come in," you say, voice cracking.

Steve steps inside, dirty vest and jeans traded in for a fitted dark t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms.

"I clean up nice, huh?" he says. You realize you must have been looking down at his pj's a little too long. There's something about seeing him outside of his Family Video uniform and in comfortable clothes that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I don't think I've ever seen you not in uniform," you say.

Steve chuckles, handing you balled up clothes. You notice his hair is wet from a shower.

"I can't complain about that ugly vest too much... at Scoops, I was in shorts and a sailor's hat."

You laugh, really laugh, for the first time all night.

Steve can't help but notice how small and scared you look sitting at the end of the bed. He's used to all this by now - alternate dimensions and nightmarish monsters - but you aren't. And it makes his heart twinge in sympathy.

You hold the cotton pajamas he handed to you in your lap.

"Thanks for these," you say. "And for letting me crash."

"No problem," Steve says. "There's a shower through that door, too." He sits down at the edge of the bed next to you, sending a rush of his wonderful smelling shampoo your way. Bending to sit makes him wince, and he doesn't hide it well.

"Oh shit, are you okay?" you ask, impulsively grabbing his bicep and looking to his torso, even though it's covered by his shirt. You think back to Nancy helping Steve wrap the wound and swallow hard.

"It's not so bad. I cleaned it and put a new tourniquet on it," Steve tells you. "I'll show it to you if you want nightmares."

"Oh, I'm good," you say, leaning back, letting go of his arm. This makes Steve laugh, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. "I got enough nightmare material, thank you."

Steve tilts his head, looking at you in that caring, big-eyed way he does sometimes.

"I know tonight was a lot," Steve says. "After we talked, you didn't really say another word and I got kind of..." He thinks back to how concerned he was when he noticed you in the trailer, eyes wide, looking petrified. "I know that shit is scary."

"I still kind of feel like I'm dreaming or watching a horror movie or something," you admit, glancing down at your lap. "I didn't want to be in an empty house tonight, so I appreciate this."

"You know how my parents are," Steve says. You nod, recalling how he had told you in the past that they were ever barely home. "You're welcome any time."

"You were... brave, Steve," you say, realizing his courage made you fall even deeper for him. "I hope I can be more helpful next time."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks.

"I kind of just followed around," you say guiltily.

"Hey, you were brave, too. You fought off those freaky bats," Steve says, placing a warm hand on your knee and giving you goosebumps. "And gave me a very honest reality check. Your help was unvaluable."

You giggle.

"You mean invaluable?" you ask.

"See? What would I do without you?" Steve asks. The warmth in his tone numbs your chest. "Seriously, if it weren't for you, we wouldn’t have made it out and on top of that, I would've just... I don't know, thrown myself at Nancy all night."

The mention of her name sends a rush of jealousy into the pit of your stomach.

"Maybe it could work out for you two this time," you say with a defeated shrug.

"I don't want it to," Steve says quietly. You finally look up at his warm eyes. This close to him, you realize he has freckles spread across his cheeks.

“How come?” you ask, surrounded in the heavy tension that has filled the room.

“I’m into someone else,” Steve says.

“Have I met her?” you ask. The way he’s looking at you, lips slightly parted, eyes travelling your face, is giving you hope that he’s talking about you. But it feels too good to be true.

“Well, you see her in the mirror every day,” Steve says.

You laugh and roll your eyes. He must be joking. 

“Shut up, be serious,” you say, lightly pushing his chest. Steve laughs, placing a big hand over yours, and it stays on his chest, the thin cotton warm over his firm body.

“I am being serious,” Steve says. “And I’m sorry if I’m making things weird. Tell me to get lost if you don’t feel the same. Seriously, we’ll just pretend this never happened.”

Steve’s forehead wrinkles, like he’s bracing for impact. The way you’re looking at him, shocked and adorable, is making him worried that he’s making a big mistake.

Finally, a smile grows on your face. He can’t see it, but he’s sure he’s doing his lost puppy look right now.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Yeah what?” Steve asks with a sweet boyish chuckle.

“I feel the same,” you say, heart pounding against your ribs. “But speaking of mirrors, I haven’t looked in one and... I bet I look awful right now so I feel like you’re probably just delusional.”

He laughs, squeezing your hand as it remains on his chest.

“You’re always beautiful.” The way he says it makes it sound like he’s saying the most obvious thing in the world.

You feel blood rush to your face and look down, smiling and slightly shaking your head.

“Can I kiss you?” His words come out stammered, nervous.

You look up and instead of nodding, you simply close the distance between you, feeling his soft, warm lips against yours.

Your bottom lip is snug between his lips as he kisses you tightly, and you feel his hand move from yours to the side of your head, where he holds you tenderly. You’d imagined kissing Steve before, but never could have imagined just how soft, how loving it would be.

You pull apart, and when you look at him, you notice a pink tone under his freckles and beauty spots.

“Am I making Steve Harrington blush?” you tease.

“So this is how it’s going to be, okay,” Steve laughs, moving his hand from your cheek to rub his chin.

“You act like you don’t know me or something,” you say, impulsively leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder. Steve chuckles. You feel a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m glad I do,” Steve says sincerely, tone low. “And I also think you need to sleep.”

“Stay with me?” you ask, voice small. You bring your head up and look at his handsome face.

Flowers bloom in Steve’s chest once he realizes that you feel safe and protected with him. He beams as he nods at you.

After a shower and a change into Steve’s clothes, you make your way back to the guest room, where Steve is laying on top of the covers, staring up at the ceiling.

“You look deep in thought,” you say, eager to get under warm covers.

Steve sits up, eyes travelling with you as you sink into the bed. He realizes you’re planning to leave the lights on, and that’s completely fine with him.

“You can get under if you want,” you say, holding up the duvet. He smirks, happily obliging and lying down again, head on the pillow.

You lie across from him, looking at him, unable to fully wrap your head around the fact that you’re lying in a bed with Steve. The lush white covers are up to your shoulders.

“Thinking about what the hell we’re all going to do next,” Steve says, mentally reliving the horrors in the Upside Down. “And to be honest, worrying about you.”

You reach an arm forward, and he quickly takes your hand, resting your clasped hands between you.

“What’s there to worry about?” you ask with a playful shrug. “I totally wasn’t scared. Not one bit.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head and bringing your hand up with his to his lips. He kisses the back of your hand tenderly, looking at you with sweet eyes as he does it. It makes you melt.

“I really like you, but you’re a crap liar,” Steve says, his tone slower and tired. You two share a chuckle again.

“How’s your side?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed, fighting the heaviness of your eyelids.

“I’ll live,” he says. You finally close your eyes, sinking into the pillow.

“I was so jealous when Nancy was helping you,” you mumble, words nearly slurring from fatigue. “And I must be exhausted because I can’t believe I just admitted that.”

You hear Steve chuckle again.

“You’ll never have anything to be jealous of,” he whispers back.

He gives you another squeeze of your hand and you sigh, letting a dark, long sleep wash over you as you lie across from the man you love.

[str4wb3rry-guy]

i just read a fic😭😭😭that had wayne munson😭😭😭be a horrible person😭😭😭i didnt know those exsisted😭😭😭

[hellfiremunsonn]

A Helping Hand. Bestfriend! Steve Harrington x Reader

A Helping Hand.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Restless and horny, trying to sleep when, Steve offers to help his best friend out. Cause what are best friends for right?

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, f orgasm, m orgasm, best friend!Steve, swearing, kind of dry humping, Steve cums in his pants, fingering (f receiving) IF THERES ANYTHING ELSE I MISSED LET ME KNOW

Wordcount: 1841

It's been almost 45 minutes since you both got into bed and Steve can hear every time you sigh and feel every time you shift. You silently hope he's asleep because you really want to roll onto your other side but if he's even the slightest bit awake he'll make that sad little noise he does when you move away from him. The movie you were watching ended ten minutes ago, and you watched through the entire credits as they rolled up the screen until the VCR turned itself and the TV off.

You didn't get like this often, squirmy and unsettled, especially in the presence of Steve because he usually helped calm all of those things. So sleeping in his bed, on a Friday night after watching movies and hanging out, wasn't something you were new to. Something you were new to however, was the ever prominent throbbing of your clit that just wouldn't go away. You weren't blind, Steve was hot, he'd been hot the minute he hit puberty, and you were crushing on him years before that, but of course it was just simpler to settle as friends.

You never had that conversation with him, never jokingly asked "what would it be like if we dated" because you both knew it would just be like now, except with a little more sexual intimacy. You couldn't bare to hear what Steve would say, hear him laugh about how he could never see you like that, because that would hurt far more worse than if he wasn't attracted to you.

You sigh again, shifting slightly from where you lay, with your back pressed against his chest, almost uncomfortably warm, despite the cold weather outside. Steve instinctively pulls you closer to him in his tired state, but with his hand splayed across your stomach you can't help the small whimper that escapes you when your ass touches his hips behind you. You squint your eyes, hold your breath and go stiff in his arms, still hoping he was asleep enough to not catch the sound that just came out of you.

But of course, he did.

"You okay?" he mumbled softly, his warm breath fanning across the back of your neck.

"Y-yeah, sorry just thought you were asleep, you startled me a little" you lied, attempting to settle back into his pillows. Steves hand was searing hot where it was on your stomach, his fingers dipping slightly lower, the tips of his fingers trailing across the bare skin exposed from your shirt riding up.

"Steve" you breathed, trying to keep your composure.

He hummed, nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck.

"Steve, you- I- can't, I need you to-" you're stuttering over your words and Steve finds it all too amusing, smiling even though you can't see because he knows exactly what it is that you need. Steves not an idiot. Sure his heads been knocked loose one too many times, but he isn't blind when a female is this close to him and horny. So testing his luck he drops his hand a little lower, not much, but enough for your breath to hitch in your throat, and the rough pads of his fingers to coast across the elastic of your underwear that peak over the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"All you have to do is ask" he says nonchalantly, voice still raspy from almost falling asleep.

"What?" you ask, turning your head slightly, trying to get a glimpse of him behind you. "What are you t-talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about sweet thing" he laughs through his nose, nudging it once more against you. "You need something yeah?"

His hand slides lower.

No. This can't be happening can it? Your best friend is not about to slide his hand between your legs right now... Right?

"Say the word and I'll stop right now" he says while lowering his hand again, fingers dipping past the waistband of both your shorts and panties, trailing them lightly through the soft pubic hair at the top of your mound, until they slid between your slick folds, the palm of his hand just bumping past your clit.

You both moaned in unison. Steves hips instinctively pushed themselves against you harder, and you didn't hesitate to push back.

"Fucking christ, you're soaked" Steve mutters, slowly sliding his fingers up and down. "You been like this all night?"

"A little" you whisper, rolling your hips slowly against his fingers. "It got bad when we got into bed"

Steve lets out a little hum as he rocks his hips lightly into you, which only spurs you on. You're in bed with your best friend, riding his fingers like this is some casual thing you both do all the time.

"Is t-this weird?" You ask, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, when his fingers began rubbing slow circles.

"D'you want me to stop?" he says and halts his movements.

"No... Do you want to stop?" you ask suddenly panicked you made him uncomfortable.

He continues his circles "I wanna do a lot of things, but stopping isn't one of them"

You whimper and shove your face into his pillows. This isn't happening, this is a dream, and Steve Harrington can't be THIS good with his fingers right? But he's rubbing those perfect circles, and it somehow feels better than any time you've touched yourself. Bringing your orgasm to the surface almost suspiciously quickly.

"Steve" you say breathlessly, reaching down to grab his wrist, stopping him.

"Yeah? You okay?" he says leaning his chin on your shoulder to catch a glimpse at your face.

"Yeah" you laugh in disbelief "Really okay actually, but I uh, don't wanna cum yet" You swallow thickly, turning your head back just enough to look back at him. "I w-wanna help you too, but I'm not left handed"

In an instant Steves hand slips from between your legs, grabs you tightly by the waist and rolls you both over onto your other side, both of you now able to use your dominant hand.

"Better?" he asks, blowing a piece of hair away from his face.

"Yeah" you squeak, attempting to settle back into his pillows, now warm from where his head just was. You reach behind you slowly, trailing your hand across the expanse of his thigh before your fingertip made contact with his erection. He flinched slightly at the sudden touch, but eased into it, slowly sliding his hand back down across your stomach.

"Wanna take these off?" he asked quietly, finger sliding across the waistband of your shorts and panties.

"Kind of, but-" you admit trailed off, slowly beginning to palm him over his sweatpants, and from what you could tell, he definitely wasn't wearing boxers.

"But what?" his voice a whisper yet you could still hear the small groan that escaped when you squeezed him gently.

"S'not fair if I'm naked and you're not" you say with a hum, melting back into his hand when his fingers slipped into your panties once more.

"You'd still have a shirt on" he argued, and you could hear that stupid smirk spread across his face. "And" he teased, biting down on your shoulder quickly. "I'm already shirtless, so it's only fair" he emphasized. "If you take something off too"

You rolled your eyes, trying to think of something witty to say back but then he slipped a finger into you and every part of you melted. Your head dropped back forward into his pillows, mouth agape and brows scrunched together. You were sure you had started drooling but the way his finger slowly moved in and out of you, the way he curled it just enough, you didn't really care.

Hand halted over his hardened cock, unable to keep a rhythm when he was touching you like this. "I can't focus" you whine, trying to palm him once more.

"So don't baby" he breathed "Don't worry about me"

Your head dizzy with the way baby rolled off his tongue, so easily, so sweetly, it made your heart swell and tears prick in your eyes because goddamnit you were in love with your best friend and seconds away from cumming on his fingers.

So selfishly you moved your hand from him, bringing it to the hand between your legs, pressing it tightly against you while your hips rocked on their own accord.

"F-fuck Steve" you whimpered, turning your head into your shoulder.

"Yeah?" he laughed. He couldn't believe he had his best friend riding his fingers like this, in his bed, like all those wet dreams he'd woken up from before in this very spot.

Your hips moved faster, rolling to meet each thrust of his finger, the palm of his hand bumping into your clit perfectly that it had your orgasm build up so quickly, you almost didn't know when it started.

"I'm- I'm- Oh god Steve, you're gunna make me, uhh-ah!" you cried out, body convulsing against him, his arm keeping you tightly in place while still managing to fuck his fingers into you while you rode your orgasm out.

"That's it baby" he praised through gritted teeth, your hips rolling harshly, making your ass bounce against his cock. "That's my girl" He panted, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, knowing you were cumming like this, he wasn't going to last much longer.

Your orgasm seemed to last forever, it just kept rolling and rolling, until you felt like you could barely breathe, but had no intention of asking Steve to stop. Only slightly coming to your senses when your orgasm slowed and you felt Steves hips moving in time with yours.

"Can you cum like this?" you forced out.

"M'bout to, fuck, you're so sexy fucking yourself on my fingers, I- Fuck!" he shoved his face into your shoulder as his hips picked up their pace, and after only a few harsh thrusts he was cumming. "I fucking love you" he growled into your skin, biting down on the small part of it exposed from where your t shirt had slipped down on your shoulder.

The two of you stayed like that for a few short minutes, catching your breath while your heart still thumped in your chest.

"Steve?" you whispered.

"I know what I said" a kiss to your shoulder. "I meant it, we don't need to talk about it right now"

"Was just gunna ask if you wanted to clean up in the shower... With me?" you turn onto your side, pouting slightly when Steves finger slipped from you, but he didn't let you go far, his hand coming up to hold your waist. You smiled, all to fondly, and Steves heart got caught in his throat when he saw you looking at him like that.

"Can I kiss you first?" he said quietly, afraid that you might say no, that what the two of you just did, wasn't what he wanted it to be.

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip a sly smile creeping up onto your face as you pushed his hair back with one hand.  "Only if I can kiss you back"

[msgexymunson]

Kitten

Description: Eddie can't believe you're still his nice adorable kitten, even when he's buried inside you.

Warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda mean dom Eddie, sub fem reader, degradation, crying, pet names.

A/n: I dont know what to tell you. This is just filth that was floating around in the cesspool that is my brain. Enjoy my dirty girls. If you like it, please comment and reblog!

1k words

Masterlist

"Please please please-" you moan into the empty air, unfeeling ears refusing to absorb the sounds. Sweating and clenching around thick fingers, you wiggle; a fish caught on a line, helpless, unable to break free. Your legs are draped across Eddie's lap, panties pulled to the side, your juices dripping all over his jeans.

Please what? Are you looking for more? Or are you looking to be set free? Its unclear; your pelvic movements are dragging you closer to his sodden cluch; wet, sticky sound of your release echoing everywhere, dampening the edge of your pleated mini skirt.

Disgusting sounds clog your ears; a soaken squelch pervades every sense, filling the room with a dirty, desolate want. A desire to be desiccated.

"Please, Eddie, please-"

"Please, oh please?" He mocks, thick fingers soaked with your release, a milky ring of your slick circling them.

"Please what? What do you want?" His mocking tone cuts through, humiliating you further, "tell me, or I can't give you what you need."

You know you never said, you want him to absorb knowledge at this point. He should know what you need. He does know what you need.

Your moans pierce the air while Eddie fucks you ceaselessly with thick fingers, pushing you towards sticky, squelching release. Again.

"Come on kitten, what do you need? You never said. Come on baby, you can do it." Thick, dastardly fingers continue to invade your cunt and push you to your breaking point. They know exactly what you need, but they want you to say. Your wanton moans are half the fun.

"Eddie, I need you to- please-"

"Please what? You let me bury my fingers in your pussy but you can't say the word fuck? You're fucking cute as hell kitten."

A blush smothers your cheeks, fuelled by his mocking and the heat between your legs.

"I need you inside me Eddie," you pout as his movements slow, still buried deep but his digits are rocking back and forth; so deep its bordering on painful, making you hiss.

"I am inside you kitten." He smirks when you huff, letting out a mirthless laugh.

Thighs quivering, you pull yourself nearer to his ear, your shaky breath a whisper.

"Please, I want your cock inside me. Please fuck me Eddie."

Eddie groans, eyes rolling back at your words. He pulls his fingers from you with a wet noise that makes you cringe. A smug smile stretches across his handsome features.

"See? I knew you could do it. That's my kitten."

Laying you gently down, he slowly pulls your sodden underwear off you, throwing them somewhere on the floor. His pants and boxers are next to go, leaving him naked, narrow hips slotting between your glistening thighs.

You reach to the side to unzip your skirt but Eddie bats your hands away. Rough hands flip your skirt up, exposing your slick soaked cunt. He pulls your tank top up to reveal your breasts, nipples hardening in the cooler air.

"You look so fucking hot like this. Such a dirty whore for me. Hmmm." Lust filled eyes drink in your form as he slowly fists his cock.

"Eddie, please." You frown up at him, hands balled into little fists.

"Stop being a brat and take what I give you." His voice is quiet, but hard. A threat dancing on his tongue. Looking up at him with wide eyes, your lip quivers.

"Aw, my little kitten gonna cry? I'll give you something to cry about."

He lines up his throbbing dick and rubs it through your glistening folds, gathering wetness, before pushing himself fully into you.

Tears rush to the corners of your eyes, pushed out by the sheer size of him. You gasp and grip his shoulders.

"Oh my God Eddie!"

"What's wrong kitten? Can't take it?" His lips draw into a condescending pout.

"No! I can Eddie, I can." You nod at him trying to convince him.

"Ok kitten if you're so sure..." as he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you, his hard member dragging against your sticky satin walls. The stretch was intense, leaving you groaning and gasping, a pretty mess just for Eddie.

A particularly deep thrust has you closing your eyes, moaning loudly.

"Yeah? That good baby?" You nod but its not enough.

"Hey, I asked you a question." He slows, making you grab his biceps, eyes widening.

"Yes, so good, please, don't stop!"

Eddie laughs and starts thrusting harder, faster. One hand keeps him upright, the other grasps you firmly by the jaw.

"You gotta look at me kitten. I wanna see you cum hard."

You stare into his dark eyes as you feel your world begin to unravel. The burning deep in your belly is threatening to spill out over your whole being.

"Eddie, oh my-" you're about to warn him when the feeling crashes over you, fluttering through your nerves, leaving you clenching around his length, whimpering your devotion to him.

"Fuck, you're so fucking pretty when you cum, holding me so tight, my dirty little girl, holy shit" his thrusts begin to falter, finally letting your jaw go, gripping so tight to your shoulder you think he'll leave finger print bruises.

"I'm gonna cum, where- fuck, where do you want it?"

"Inside me, please Eddie."

He breaks character for a moment. "Shit really? Are you sure?" As you nod emphatically, nails leaving red crescents in his back.

Features hard once again, he pounds into you even faster, "gonna fill this pussy up, just like you want, Jesus Christ!" Holding you close he releases deep inside of you. You can feel his dick throbbing, whining at the feeling.

Eddie collapses to the side of you, body shining in sweat. You allow your legs to slowly unfold, still quivering at the strength of your release.

"Sorry kitten if that was a bit much." He strokes your thigh, eyes seeking yours.

"Well you were a bit of a-"

"What princess? A douchbag? A prick?"

"A- a meanie."

Eddie's laugh echoes through the room. He scoops you in his arms.

"And you are an adorable little kitten."

Just tagging a couple of people who I know will enjoy this lol

@lunatictardis @munson-blurbs @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @billybluboy @zestychili @eddiesprincess86 @cluz1babe @joejoequinnquinn @onehotgreasymechanic @eddiemunsonfuxks

[keeksandgigz]

okay okay, but imagine an older!modern!eddie getting ticked off every time you have your phone on 'do not disturb.'

this was supposed to be a blurb but pls queens turn off your dnd this is loosely based on a true story

eddie munson x fem! reader

word count: 3k

cw: porn with a little plot, spanking with a spoon, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv (pls don't do that), use of nicknames (sweetness, sugar, baby etc), established d/s dynamic (even if there isn't much of it here), no physical description of reader, minors dni, smut below the cut!

Like, it starts off kinda funny like "Honey, c'mon I need you to return my calls if I know you're free. I needa know my girl is safe" he says, voice real sweet. You just apologize and turn it off.

Until it becomes a recurrent thing. He'll call you to ask if you still need to get picked up after class while you're out running errands. You don't see his call until after class and you hurriedly call him to come pick you up.

Or he's at the grocery store to pick up dinner for later and he's texting you to ask what he needs to get for you and you just don't answer him. You don't see his texts.

He tries to call. Voicemail.

He later gets home with whatever he was craving and just starts cooking.

"But I thought we said we were gonna do pasta, Ed? Why're you making chicken?" you ask, literally without a clue as to why dinner plans have changed.

"Well, sweetness, if you don't answer my texts or return my calls how the hell am I supposed to know what kinda pasta you wanted, huh?" he just shrugs, voice a bit hardened. You can tell it's starting to tick him off.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Ed, I don't even know where my phone is, really" you scratch your head, looking around but not really in search for your phone.

"Well, if you didn't have your DnD on you'd know where your phone is once I call or text you. It's starting to get a little frustrating, baby, can you please be a little more mindful and turn off your 'do not disturb' when you don't need it please?" you just nod sheepishly, like you've been scolded for not saying 'thank you' to a gift you didn't like.

And it does end up happening numerous times. Luckily, nothing too insane.

Sometimes he'd ask you if you wanted to call and you just sit there waiting for him to call. After ten minutes, you assume he's gone to sleep (he's a bit old after all), so you turn off your phone and tuck in for the night.

"Why didn't you pick up last night baby? I called you like six times" he asks the morning after.

"Wait, you called? I was waiting for you to call and then you didn't so I just went to bed" you explain, then clocking the issue there. Shit.

"You had your DnD on, didn't you, sweetness?" and he gets close to you. Close enough for you to hold your breath, too entranced by his big presence, filling up every bit of your vision. You feel suffocated by him.

You look down, too much to be looking at him right now, with the aura of calm and cool control that he exudes. It'd be easier for him to swallow you whole than for you to be making eye contact with him right now.

He just takes care of that promptly for you. He gingerly places two fingers under your chin, making you look at him in the eyes.

"You look at me when I talk to you. You know better, don't you baby?" and he puts on this fake pout that makes you blush all over. You imagine the butterflies at the bottom of your stomach tinging a pretty shade of pink with every domineering word that comes out of that man's mouth.

You just nod, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, releasing you from the delicious torture of him invading your senses as he takes a step back, letting your chin go before he just goes back to what he was doing.

"Oughta punish you one of these days if you don't turn that damn DnD off" he mutters and then he's back on his computer.

The gruff words make your shaky legs stutter as you decide you cannot be standing anymore and you plop yourself on the couch.

His last straw, however, is when you're out at a club with your friends. You've had one too many drinks and you text Eddie to come pick you up. He has no idea where you are.

Yeah, baby I can pick you up. Where at? 12:34 am

Can't pick you up if you don't tell me where you are, sweetness. 12:42 am

You there? 12:50 am

Turn off your DnD PLEASE 1:00 am

I'm omw 1:03 am

And he pulls up in front of the bar you were helplessly staring out the door of. You're not drunk, just not having fun.

You run into the car, shivering from the biting November breeze.

"Had to call one of your friends to tell me where the fuck you were. Are you drunk?" he asks. Voice stern, laden with what you could only define as barbed wire. Cutting, angry, almost.

"'m not drunk." you mutter "I had, like, a shot, then I decided I wasn't having fun anymore. Didn't wanna go out in the first place" finding the creases and ridges of your hands very interesting all of a sudden.

"Trust me when I tell you you won't be having fun at home either. Fucking sick of that 'do not disturb' thing on. You had me scared to death." he seethes, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. You notice he's wearing his pyjamas.

Fuck. You made him get out of bed. You shrink in your seat.

"Y'don't wanna be disturbed? I'll fuckin' teach you about being disturbed" and that's the last thing he says before he just speeds home.

There's thick tension between the two of you when he opens the door to his apartment. You sit on his counter, looking at the floor and getting ready for another scolding.

He's leaning on the wall opposite to you, arms crossed.

He breaks the silence "Floor's lookin' clean? You gonna look at me now?" you shiver, then look up to meet his darkened eyes.

He scoffs and takes a few paces towards you, until he's placed between your parted legs.

"What do I gotta do with you, huh? Do I gotta start checkin' your phone to make sure that damn thing is turned off? As far as I'm concerned after your classes you shouldn't have it on at all" he remarks, his hands caressing over the nylon of your tights, toying with the fabric of your dress.

You interject "I just forget, Ed. I'm so busy these days I forget to turn it off" you jut out your bottom lip, trying to coax a bit of sweet sympathy out of him. Something that'll make the punishment a bit lighter.

But he remains unmoved, his lips in a straight line as he moves his hands up, up, up to firmly hold your waist. "So forgetful, aren't you, baby? Maybe you need a reminder, carve some space in that big, busy brain of yours to remember to turn your DnD off, hm?" he chides, playing with the insides of your arm, skin sensitive and waiting as his thick finger moves up and down and you can't help but nod.

Your breath begins to pick up ever so slightly. But he notices, of course he notices. The way your mouth parts and your pupils dilate. The way your chest begins to get closer to him, rising and falling in anticipation.

"So pretty" he teases, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his palm, letting out a sweet humming sound that makes Eddie's stomach flip despite his hardened facade "Y'wanna play?"

His voice goes to a deep, dark timbre, the question making you shiver. You speak for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Yes, sir" voice thin and quiet as you keep looking at him, not wanting to worsen your precarious position as he undoes the zipper of the short dress you're wearing, helping him out by taking your arms out of the thin sleeves.

"Good girl," he remarks, tapping the sides of your thighs to make you lift your hips, removing the dress off of you completely.

He licks his lips when he finds you're wearing tights. He loves spanking you with the nylon barrier between his hand and the soft skin of your ass. A weird quirk of his.

You feel the hardened pressure of his bulge against the inside of your thigh as his body turns to litter a trail of kisses over your jawline and you keen into his touch, arch towards his chest demanding more, more, more. Even if you're in no position to demand anything.

A whine escapes you as you keep arching your hips towards him. Eddie's quick to stop you with a strong hand pinning you down against the marble of the counter. He tuts.

"Don't be greedy. Hop off and bend over" he commands, and who are you to say no to him as you comply with a meek "Yes, sir," resting your elbows on the cold counter.

His nose skims the length of your spine, taking in the way you smell. Sweet and musky, after a night of dancing among sweaty bodies. The thought intrudes Eddie's head. Did a body press itself against you? Is the scent of a random man now on the skin of your back, the fabric of your dress?

He shakes the thought away as he reaches the waistband of your black nylon tights.

"Pass me that wooden spoon, will you, sugar?" he says sweetly, snaking a hand in your hair. You shiver as you reach for the wooden utensil in the metal bucket next to the stove. You pass it to him, skin pricking up from the anticipation of not knowing what he might do with it.

"Thank you, baby" he kisses your shoulders, as the spoon comes into contact with your ass. Caressing up and down.

"Now, I hate to do this, you know me, but I gotta teach you a lesson, sweetness. Tell me you want this" he says, the utensil snaking its way between your legs, rubbing back and forth. A wicked smile appearing on Eddie's lips when you begin to helplessly whimper, your head lolling on its side against the marble counter.

"I- I want this" you say, loud enough to make him hear you.

And that's all he needs. A green light.

The wooden spoon lands on the meat of your ass. You hiss. The feeling is new, he hadn't spanked you with anything aside of his hand before, but the feeling of the wooden handle cracking on your skin makes your head reel.

"You gonna put your phone on DnD again?" he asks, a question he knows the answer to as he cracks down the spoon again.

"Ah- ow- No, sir. Thank you, sir" you say, sweet and compliant, hoping that it will relieve you of your penance earlier than he'd planned to.

His hand sneaks itself on the seam of your tights, knowing you never wear panties with them, feeling the heat radiating off of your core, a dampness that had been sitting there since you'd climbed in the car.

He chuckles to himself, a dark laugh, a notice that he will not go easy on you tonight.

"You're likin' this?" you can almost hear the wicked smile in his words. "You little slut, you're getting wet from this? Me smacking you with a spoon?" he taunts and your legs quiver as he administers two more cracks to your ass.

You have cotton in your ears. Your skin feels everything and nothing at the same time as you begin slumping against the counter.

"So horny you can't even stand, huh, sweetness?" Eddie smacks you again and then reaches his arm around your waist to pull you up "Little slut didn't want me to disturb her, hat true?" he asks, another smack, this time he expects an answer.

"Fuck- ow- no Eddie that's not-ah" another smack "t-true" you sob, tears beginning to well on the waterline of your eyes.

Your ass feels on fire while Eddie puts the spoon down next to your head. Your legs shaky in your heels as he kneels between your legs.

Two of his fingers hooked on the seam of your tights as he rips a hole in them, exposing you to him. You gasp, more at the suddenness of the motion than at the action itself.

Your tights never had a long enough lifespan when you wore them around Eddie.

"You got so wet, sweetness." He whispers, entranced by the way the skin glistens in the dull kitchen light.

His hands hook around your waist to keep you still as his face narrows into your pussy, and he begins to lick.

Broad stripes of his tongue, slurping and lapping up whatever he missed. Eating like a man starved.

Your back arching to get more, more, greedy in the best way possible as you mewled and cried for him to keep going. As you mewled and cried nonsense, feeling your brain turn fuzzy and your eyes becoming accustomed to going to the back of your head every time his tongue lingered long enough on your clit.

When he begins to suck harshly on it you have no choice but to grab the back of his head and push it further, if there ever was a further, as he is wedged deep between your legs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

He doesn't like it, though, the way you grab and push at his head like you're the one calling the shots.

He unhooks his arms from your waist momentarily to reach for your wrists to pin them behind your back, that's when he stands from his place in between your legs.

"Y'think you're a big girl, huh? Callin' the shots?" he lands a smack on your ass, turning you around to finally face him. Hands still pinned behind you as he pushes you towards him.

"I didn't- I don't-" you try and justify yourself, but he just delivers a smack to your face. Light enough to give you a slight sting.

His chin glistens with your slick, and you can smell it on him.

"Look what you did" he says, taunting you. His free hand comes to squeeze your cheeks, making you look at him.

"Clean me up, since you wanna be so fuckin' messy" and he squeezes harder, your tongue jutting out to lick at the clear wetness on his face, slight stubble scratching your tongue and chin. You lick around his mouth, under his nose, until he pushes you away from him.

"Greedy, greedy" he chants, as he places you on top of the counter, cold marble a relief against your aching ass.

You could clearly see the outline of his cock against his sweats, you bite your lip as he inches closer to you. “Look how hard you made me, baby," he mutters, low and dark "it’s impossible to be in your presence when you look like you want to get fucked all the time." he continues "Goin' out in that tight little dress like you don't want everyone to see your pretty tits" he says, grabbing a handful through the bralette you're wearing.

He moves the cups to the side as he toys with your tits, a hand reaching into your mouth to wet his fingers. You gag and sputter around his digits.

"Theeere you go, sweetness. Y'like having your mouth full?" he asks, Hardened stare urging you to answer. You nod and let out a weak hum in approval as his fingers keep pushing in and out of your mouth.

He removes his fingers from your mouth as he begins circling the sensitive buds of your nipples. You let out a desperate moan.

"So sensitive, aren't you? You wanna cum like that while I fuck you?" he asks, and you can't find the words fast enough to nod your head yes.

"Ask me nicely. You know better" he says sternly as he uses one hand to lower the waistband of his sweats, letting his cock spring free.

"F-fuck, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me, sir" is all you can muster, before he guides his cock to your entrance, sinking in all the way to the hilt. A gasp escapes you. It never gets old.

"That's a good girl. Wasn't so hard, was it?" he teases, both his hands returning to deliver their ministrations on your tits, thumb unforgivingly grazing your nipples. The motion makes you scream as Eddie sets a quick pace.

"That's right, sweetness, keep singin' for me. Lemme hear that pretty voice" he says, his words making you clench around him.

His hands come off your tits to place your legs on your shoulders, making you curl in on yourself as he leaned his body to make your faces touch.

"Kiss me, baby" and you kiss him with such fervor and need. He hadn't kissed you the whole night. You don't know how much you need him to kiss you until you do and it's like fireworks are going off behind your hooded lids.

His tongue slips past your lips as he keeps thrusting, unforgivingly, hitting your g- spot every. single. time. You whine into his mouth, he chuckles at how needy you sound.

"My baby just needed a good fuck to remember to not put her DnD on, didn't you?" he taunts, an especially harsh thrust follows as you feel his breathing become more ragged and his pace begin to stutter.

"Feels good, huh? Shit, baby you're so tight" he begins and you can't help but moan.

"Feels good Eddie- huh- so... so deep" you hiccup, and you feel close. "Hmm so ah big" you groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head when a particularly well- angled thrust deliciously hits your spongy walls.

"You like that, sweetheart? God- fuck- so gorgeous, baby. Look at you" he rambles. He's getting close.

"Oh fuck, Ed, 'mclosesoclose" you cry out and you're seriously teetering on the edge of orgasm. A few more thrusts and you'd be gone.

"Me too, sweetness, c'mon cum for me" he thrusts a couple more times and the coil snaps. You're clenching and whining and screaming his name while he follows after you, finishing inside you.

He stays there even after he's done, laying his head on your sweaty chest while you both try to stabilize your breathing.

"Feel free to disturb me whenever you want" you say, and he chuckles, giving a soft kiss to your shoulder.

taglist: honey-flustered, fracturedarkness, them-cute-boys, ancientcrone-blog, eveybitch, everythingtodayisthoroughly, jennathinker, @vampysstuff, rubyirene, floriscus, mrsmarch64, fairymunson, capricornrisingsstuff, sole-screws, helloweenfiend, flaminggarbagepail, @squigglebottom, @cozmiccass

[cacoetheswriting]

movie nights

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 3.3k warnings: the beginning of friends to lovers, mutual pining, emotional hurt / comfort, kinda angsty, very fluffy, adult language, use of pet names (sweetheart), mild jealousy, mentions of food consumption, mentions of violence (in the movies they watch) - unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything! summary: an unspecified amount of time in the lives of eddie munson and you, his best friend, as you watch various movies together

a/n: i wrote a similar concept fic for bucky barnes almost a year ago now - you can read it here if interested - and thought it was a cute idea to recreate with eddie .. enjoy!

edit: part two

-

“Hope you’re dressed, Munson, cause I’m coming in!”, you announce and without waiting for a response, you push Eddie’s bedroom door open using your side and step inside.

The curly haired teen is sat cross legged on his bed, nose buried in the latest issue of Hot Press magazine. He flicks the booklet closed when you appear, a hearty smile gracing his features.

“Mark my words, one of these days I will actually be naked,” Eddie titters, carefully placing the magazine on his nightstand before looking back at you, “What are you gonna do then, hmm?”

You laugh. “Maybe that’s what I’m counting on. Did you ever consider that, hmm?”

Eddie rolls his eyes at your mocking tone. “You couldn’t handle me, sweetheart.”

“Cocky.”

Your best friend smirks. He lifts his arms in an over-exaggerated strongman motion, buffing up his chest as he pretends to place a kiss to each of his biceps.

It was your turn to roll your eyes. Taking out the pencil you had placed behind your ear earlier at work, you chuck it at him.

Eddie catches it (of course), which only boosts his ego.

Proceeding to do a theatrical bow, the dark-eyed boy then hops off the bed and takes a step in your direction. Smiling like an idiot, he places the semi-sharp object back where you took it from, his thumb caressing your cheek in the process.

“You could have taken out my eye with that thing,” he dramatised, his hands now cupping your face.

“Good thing you’re so alert, Munson,” you tease back sarcastically.

Eddie smirks, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. One of his arms travels around your neck, pulling you in for a hug, while the other drops down to your side. He then went on to squeeze you tight, shaking you a little from left to right.

“You’re insufferable,” Eddie mutters into your hair.

“Oh because being your best friend is such a piece of cake,” you reply while returning his embrace.

Laughing, he gently pinches your side before eventually letting his arms fall. He leans against the edge of his bed, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“So, what’s new?”

“I got it,” you announce in response, the smile circling your lips growing wider by an inch.

“You got it?” Eddie’s eyes light up. 

Nodding excitedly, you reach into your backpack and carefully withdraw a VHS player. 

“Ta-da!”  

“Yes!” Eddie exclaims, hands reaching for the item in your grip, “Thank youuu Harrington!”

He ran his fingers across the faded black plastic and manoeuvres around you to head for the trailer’s living room. You follow closely behind.

“Harrington? Seriously?! Do you know what I had to do to get this?!” 

Eddie shruggs, entirely focused on the player itself and not really caring about how you came to have it in your possession. He kneels down in front of the TV and begins scouring through the cables to set everything up.

You drop your bag, eyes glued to the back of Eddie’s head.

“You mean to tell me you don’t want to know how Steve would only agree to lend me the VHS if I went on a date with him?”

That regained his attention. Uhm, what the fuck did you just say?

Delicately, he places the player down next to the television and focuses his gaze back on your frame. He follows you around the room until you reach the couch and plop down with a little bounce.

“Harrington asked you out?”

You nod, making yourself comfortable.

Eddie arched a brow while standing back up. “And what did you say?”

Slightly confused by the point of his question, you point to the VHS. “Well, we have the thing so what do you think I said?”

He crossed his arms then quickly uncrossed them. He seemed uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable.

“You said yes?” A hint of disdain is detectable in the teens voice, even though he tried to mask it as best he could.

You nod again. “This Friday, whenever he gets out of work.”

Eddie’s fist now mimicking a dagger, he jabs his heart. Twice. 

A giggle escapes your lips as you watch him stumble dramatically towards you. He drops, burying his face in one of the cushions.

“I can’t believe it,” he exhales and turns, placing one hand on his stomach while the other tangles itself in his brown locks. 

“What? Is he out of my league or something?”

“No, no, no…” Eddie shakes his head, not daring to look at you right now because how in the hell could he explain why exactly he had a problem with you going on a date with Steve. “He’s just… Harrington, and you’re—”

“Tread carefully,” you interrupt with a moderate tease, earning yourself an amiable nudge to the side.

There was a brief moment of silence. Everything felt really tense all of a sudden. The laughter dies down. All you could hear was Eddie’s deep breaths and your own beating heart.

Eventually, the doe-eyed boy nudges you again.

“Just be careful to not catch any cooties,” Eddie pokes fun while standing back up, but before you get a chance to respond with your own witty remark, he lifts two tapes he had sourced earlier. “So, what do we feel like tonight, ‘Valley of the Dolls’ or ‘Rosemary’s Baby’?”

THE SHINING

The room was pitch black, the only flicker of light came from the screen your eyes were currently fixated on.

You were scared, creeped out more so, but you didn’t want to admit it. Nope. Not after you spent the entire week boasting about how you’ve already seen ‘The Shining’ and it wasn’t as bad as everyone always made it out to be.

In your defence however, and in hindsight probably something you should have mentioned to Eddie when he made plans to watch this particular film, the first and last time you put on ‘The Shining’ you skipped through all the parts that made you uncomfortable.

‘Wendy? Darling? Light of my life.’

Holding your breath, you shuffle closer to Eddie and snake one arm through his. With your free hand, you pull the blanket up higher and rest your face against your best friend.

‘I’m not gonna hurt ya.’

The curly haired teen sneaks a peek at you, fighting back a smirk since he knew you were full of shit. “Pleaseee, ‘The Shining’ is barely a horror.”, says the girl who just about made it through ‘The Birds’.

‘You didn’t let me finish my sentence. I said, I’m not gonna hurt ya.’

Although he had to be honest (at least with himself). He usually picks out horrors or thrillers or anything with jump scares because he knows you will act all high and mighty before eventually cuddling up to him. Even though he would never admit it out loud, Eddie liked when you held onto him as if he was your protector. 

‘I’m just going to bash your brains in.’

“Jesus Christ,” you exhale sharply.

Eddie lets out a quiet laugh. “We can turn it off,” he offers, “Just say the word, sweetheart.”

He can feel you shake your head against him. “It’s not that bad.”

Rolling his eyes at your response — because he knew you were lying through your teeth — Eddie sinks deeper into the sofa so that he would be on your face level. Turning to look at you, and getting slightly mesmerised by how the glimmer from the television illuminates your features perfectly, he taps your nose to grab your attention.

“You never told me about your date with Harrington.”

You string your brows together. “You really want to talk about this now?” The question came out in a mere whisper, your voice almost over powered by the screaming coming from the film. 

“Colour me curious,” Eddie replies.

Using the hand that currently wasn’t intertwined with his, you gently brush through his curly fringe. Slowly, you loop a single dark strand around your finger and let it go straight away. You repeat the action again, feeling his curious eyes burn into you, patiently waiting for an answer.

You smile eventually.

“He’s no Eddie Munson.”

And with that, you let your hand fall and your focus shifts to the television once again. You place your head on his shoulder, just below his chin, and wrap your free arm around his chest.

Eddie on the other hand was completely frozen because WHAT THE FUCK DID THAT MEAN.

GREMLINS

“Think I know what to get you for your birthday, sweetheart.”

“Munson, I swear—”

“What?” Eddie interrupts, playing dumb, “You don’t think a little Gremlin plushie would be cute? Just sitting on the edge of your bed?”

You shudder. “Gross… No!”

He laughs. “That’s too bad.”

THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW

Eddie was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the sofa, legs spread out in front, while his heart was in his fucking throat because you were currently settled comfortably in his lap.

To be fair, the position was not intended as anything more than friendly. After all, that’s all the two of you were: friends. Plus it’s not like he could really complain. He found himself in this predicament by his own accord when he agreed, like many times before, to let you do his makeup.

“You’re gonna look so fucking hot as Frank N. Furter.”, were your exact words and Eddie couldn’t argue with hot. He couldn’t argue with anything you said. Or rather he didn’t want to.

The film was playing quietly in the background, the scene with Janet and Rocky in the tank renders on the television screen, as you work your magic.

“Do you think this will increase my chances in the dating pool or will people think I’m even more of a freak?”

Eddie tries to crack a joke, but the question came out a little too quiet. A hint of concern is detectable in his voice. 

Stopping in your tracks, you place three fingers to his temple, careful as to not poke his eye with the end of the brush, and force him to look at you.

“You’re not a freak, Eddie.”

With the way you were looking at him right now, your expression is soft and kind, he almost believes it.

“Yeah, in your eyes.”

“Does anybody else matter?”

The answer is no. You both knew it but neither dares to say it out loud.

“Tell that to your ex-boyfriend,” he scoffs instead.

“Who? Andy?”

Eddie bops his head and you roll your eyes. 

“You really shouldn’t listen to a word he says. Andy is nothing but a huge dick, ” you ramble, one hand on the edge of his neck, fidgeting with the collar of his Hellfire t-shirt. “Which is ironic considering—” 

You bite your tongue, albeit a little too slowly because your always alert best friend catches onto exactly what you wanted to say. His eyes instantly light up just like a little kids’ during Christmas morning.

“You mean?” Eddie lifts one hand and uses two fingers to indicate a probable size. The corners of your lips twitch upwards into a goofy smile. 

“More like…” You reach for his index finger and push it closer to his thumb.

Eddie tries to suppress his giggles but is more than unsuccessful and loud chuckles laced with amusement at the matter carry throughout the trailer. The sound was honestly infectious and it doesn’t take long for you to join in, ‘Rose Tint My World’ playing in harmony.

As the song concludes, so do the giggles.

Still grinning from ear to ear, and a little lost in the comfort of the moment, Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours unintentionally, although very naturally. The cool from one of the metal rings he was wearing sent a modest shiver down your spine in the process.

Glancing at your hands together, you feel a flutter in your stomach. You hadn’t really noticed, until this moment, how perfectly they fit together, like two puzzle pieces. Was that odd? It had to be, right? He was your best friend, nothing else—

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice soft yet elated, breaking you away from your thoughts instantly, “God, you don’t know just how badly I needed that information in my life.”

You lean in a little closer. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

His gaze shifts to your lips momentarily and he swallows. 

Now this was odd.

Doing your best to ignore whatever it was you were currently feeling, you let go of his hand and use one finger to tilt his chin up towards the light. 

“If you like how you look, I think we have your Halloween costume sorted out.”

Eddie smirks. “Only if you go as Janet.”

“Deal.” 

CRUISING

“This is terrible,” Eddie mutters halfway through, hand sinking into the bag of Jelly Babies you are holding between the two of you.

Shrugging against him, you pop a sweet into your mouth. “True but at least Al Pacino looks good,” you state, causing the curly haired teen to roll his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I think I’m arguably better looking than Al Pacino,” he states confidently and tilts his head to gauge your reaction.

You meet his gaze. “I never said you weren’t.”

ROMAN HOLIDAY

The chosen film plays on low volume, shedding some light throughout the otherwise dull trailer living area. A sudden increase in brightness causes Eddie to stir in his spot on the sofa, eyes fluttering open. Shit, how long was he asleep for?

‘Mr. Bradley, if you don’t mind my saying so, I think you are a ringer.’

‘Oh- wha-? Oh. Thanks very much.’

Eddie tries to sit up, the first thought is to apologise to you for dozing off, but something is weighing him down. His vision adjusts to his surroundings and he looks down at his lap to determine the cause behind his restricted movement.

‘You spent the whole day doing things I've always wanted to. Why?’

In that moment, Eddie’s heart skips a beat.

Your eyes were shut. Your head is resting just above his knees and you have one arm draped over both his legs, holding onto him.

‘I don't know. Seemed the thing to do.’

A smile tugs at Eddie’s lips. God, you looked so peaceful and so fucking beautiful. The flickers from the TV bounce off, what he truly believes, are your already perfect features. He loses himself momentarily, like so many times before.

‘I never heard of anybody so kind.’

He sighs, would you ever believe him if he told you just how beautiful he thought you were?

‘Wasn't any trouble.’

With his gaze still fixated on you, Eddie reaches for his jacket and carefully, so as not to wake you, he drapes it over your shoulders.

‘Also completely unselfish.’

You hum soundly, although still sleeping, and when Eddie is sure you aren’t about to wake up, he places one hand on arm before closing his eyes once again.

THE NEVERENDING STORY

As the credits roll across the screen, Eddie hops off the sofa and walks towards the refrigerator.

“I cannot believe this is Henderson’s favourite film,” he states, leaning on the open door and scrummaging in search of something to eat. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s something he shares with his girlfriend. I think it’s cute.”

“Of course you would say that.” Eddie counters before adding, “Do you want to order a pizza?”

Stringing your brows together, you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He closes the fridge and shifts to lean against the counter before looking at you. “Nothing bad, sweetheart.” Eddie affirms, “Just that your judgement is easily clouded by the aspect of love.”

A scoff escapes your lips as you stand and head for the landline, first skimming through the Yellow Pages in search for the number of the local pizzeria.

“Why is that such a bad thing? Love is perhaps the most magnificent feeling a person can experience.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. Rather, he hangs his head low and begins to fidget with the hem of his denim vest. Would this be a completely terrible time to admit he’s only ever been in love with—

Entirely too focused on dialling the number and ordering a large margherita pizza for the two of you to share, you don’t notice the sudden change in his demeanour, not at first anyway. Only when you hang up the phone and focus your attention on the doe-eyed teen once again, you realise you must have said something wrong.

But what?

So you move to stand in front of him, ducking in order to find yourself in his field of vision. “Everything alright, Munson?”

He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even meet your gaze.

Perplexed, you straighten and change position to lean against the counter next to him, your arm pressing into his ever so slightly.

A heavy and overbearing silence settles in the air.

For an unpleasant amount of time, everything seems awkward and ominous. Even though your bodies are touching, he’s oddly distant, as if he was aching to be anywhere but here. During all this time that you’ve been friends with Eddie, you’ve never felt these things around him. What the hell was going on?

There’s a knock on the door. The sound breaks Eddie out of his trance and he leaves his spot beside you to answer it.

While he pays and thanks the delivery guy, you’re glancing at your feet, your mind racing in search of an explanation for this weird atmosphere because you really didn’t think you said anything to warrant his unusual behaviour.

After shutting the door, Eddie strides back to his previous spot and places the box on the counter. He doesn’t open it though. Instead, he reaches for your wrist and gently pulls you towards him.

His arms make their way around your frame, making home on the small of your back as he gives you a light squeeze. The sudden show of affection confuses you, but you don’t dwell on it for too long as your muscles loosen and you let yourself completely sag into his surprisingly affectionate embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie eventually mutters into your hair before pulling back slightly to take a peek at your face.

“I feel like I should be the one to apologise,” you say quietly but he shakes his head against yours.

The two of you stand like that for a minute, embracing one another. Both are slightly afraid to let go because with every passing second, little by little, the situation becomes slightly more clear: there is so much still to say yet no courage on either part to do so. 

As his fingers rub circles into your back, yours mess with the ends of his brown curls. Then his name escapes your lips quietly, almost as if it wasn’t supposed to. “Eddie?”

“Mhm?”

“The food is going to get cold,” you murmur and he lets out a giggle, letting his arms fall to his side. 

Leaning forwards, he delicately places a kiss to your forehead before shifting in his spot to open the pizza box. The feeling of his lips against your skin lingers and even though he’s done that action many times before - kiss your forehead - you can’t help but feel like this time it was different.

“I think we need to pick our own movie,” Eddie suggests, advertently changing the topic, “Just like Dustin and his girlfriend, only something far less cheesy and dumb.”

You watch him take a slice and a smile tugs at your lips. He meets your elated gaze while taking a bite and raises a brow.

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, mouth full of food.

You nod. “I like that idea.”

He returns your blissful expression and pushes the pizza box slightly towards you. “The food is going to get cold,” he repeats and you grab a slice.

A warm feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Perhaps different was okay. Perhaps it was more than okay.

-

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[carolmunson]

spin doctor | e.m. x reader

mini ficlet, eddie munson works at a record store. he’s a little snobby. sort of shy!reader if you squint? it’s the very late 90s.

tw: 18+ references to smut/virginity, all around meet-cute-ish.

The rain slaps off the top of your coffee cup and into your eyes while you take a sip, woefully regretting not bringing an umbrella because the weather man said it was only misting. This isn't mist, this is just under a downpour, the hood of your dad's old canvas jacket doing little to protect you from the rain while it darkens with each drop the green fabric absorbs. You stop at the corner, protecting yourself from the weather under the awning of a laundromat. Squinting up towards the overcast gray sky, you double check the cross streets, two more blocks and you'll make it there. There being the record store that you found in the yellow pages after you inherited your parent's record player in their latest attic clean out. Your dad was smart though, sold all of the records that were in mint condition to collecters -- which left you recordless and sort of at a loss of where to start now that they were only sold at specialty stores.

You hurry your way down the next two blocks, finally seeing the sign for VI Chord Records lit up across the street in buzzing red neon. You wait to cross, seeing the reflection of the light in the wet asphalt while the sky starts to darken. Winter easing in slow these days while the nights start to come quicker than expected.

The door jingles when you open it, two guys at the check out counter looking up breifly and then back to their conversation; the other patrons don't even look. You take a breath, happy that at least no one is paying attention. You've never been to a record store before -- bought music, sure; CDs and cassettes but never vinyl -- that was like an old people thing. But your dad couldn't stop going on and on about how music just sounds better when you listen to it like that; and to be fair a lot of your favorites from the 60s and 70s sounded flat on your Walkman. You were on the hunt for the authentic experience now, the real deal.

You start at the 'New Arrivals' bin, pulling down your hood and taking off your headphones to put in your nylon back pack while you search. You sip your coffee while your fingers flick, flick, flick through the sleeves, crunching on and over the plastic protective covering of each record. You don’t know who most of the artists are, names hidden in intricate artwork or vulgar close ups of tits and crotch. You laugh at a few under your breath.

You continue your search, going over to the K section to see if you can find Carole King’s Tapestry, only to be inundated with Kiss record after Kiss record. Kix, Krokus, Kick Axe — King nowhere in the bunch. You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning the back wall over the guys heads at the check out counter. Guitars hang on the velvet wall paper, gleaming with a fresh sign with scribbles of signatures on them. You land over by the S section, fingers flick flick flicking again to run into Slayer, T’s taken over by Twisted Sister. You don’t even realize how much time has gone by until you take a sip of coffee and nothing is left.

“Can I help you find something?”

You jump, not expecting to head a disembodied voice by the back of your neck, “Huh?”

“You just seem like you’re not finding what you’re looking for, can I help?”

You turn while he asks, one of the guys from the counter who looks like he’s stuck somewhere in the 80s and his grunge phase. His hair is to his shoulders, wavy and cut into a shag that put your moms 70s hair do to shame. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks stretches with his smile — customer service perfection, but only for pretty things like you.

His crosses his arms over his army green tee, matching your coat that’s nearly dry now. His tattooed arms bulge slightly in the stance, straining against the small sleeves. Your eyes focus on the guitar pick dangling in the center of his chest; suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Um,” you start, eyes flicking up to meet his brown ones — soft and eager, like he’s excited to talk to you. Your eyes scan down to the black and gray flannel tied around his narrow waist, falling limply over his dark wash worn jeans into combat boots.

“Uh,” you stutter for a second, trying to not to get caught up in this handsome stranger, “I’m sorta new to records. My dad just gave me his but he sold all his good stuff so um — starting from zero I guess.”

“Ooh, nice,” he grins, “So a virgin, huh?”

You sputter, “Well um — no but —”

“Vinyl virgin, sweetheart,” he winks, “Don’t worry. I don’t need to know the horny details.”

“So what were you trying to find today?” he asks, leaning against the stacked milk crates full to the brim at the center of the room, “We actually just got some solid rares in if you’re trying to start a good collection.”

“I just wanna listen to oldies,” you laugh.

He laughs too, it’s smoky and cool, “Nah, nah, I hear you. What kinda oldies like — early Black Sabbath or…?”

You bite your lower lip, “I was more thinking like um, Motown? The Temptations? Maybe some James Taylor. I was mostly trying to find The Flamingos single for —”

He laughs while you continue on but then realizes you aren’t joking, head coming back to center, “Oh you’re, you’re serious?”

You feel heat lick at your cheeks and chest, sweat slickly creeping on the top of your back, “Yeah I thought…it’s a record store so—”

“Not that kind, princess,” he shrugs, hands dropping to lean against the crates behind him, “We only sell hard rock and metal here for the most part. You could check the dollar bins for drop offs, we don’t really sort those.”

“Oh,” you nod, averting his gaze while you see the big bin in the corner labeled ‘Dollar Donations’.

“Yeah maybe you’ll find your doo-wop stuff in there or something,” his voice has a hint of teasing to it that makes your teeth grit.

“Are you like, shitting on me?” you ask shakily, kind of surprised this is actually happening to you. That this guys is legitimately being a jerk over wanting music that maybe he’s not into.

“No, no, no,” he urges, “No. I’m sorry, seriously. It’s just that we don’t really get people who come in here not looking for what we sell. We’re kinda well known for being a vintage metal store.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t know that so,” you shrug, defeated weighing down your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he assures, sweet smile tugging his lips up to reveal deep dimples, “You’re a vinyl virgin, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you roll your eyes, making your way to the bin while he follows behind you.

“Maybe if you tell me what kind of music you like now I can find a good one for you,” he offers, hand resting on his chest that’s covered in silver rings and chipped nail polish, “I’ve been told I make great recommendations.”

“I’ve been liking Blink-182 lately. Backstreet Boys on the other side of the coin,” you shrug, “And um, one of my friends has been trying to get me into Nine In Nails.”

“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, “There we go. Anything else? What’s the other older stuff you like?”

“Uh, um,” you shrug again, “Elton John? Eric Clapton?”

He nods again, “Okay, some of this stuff I can work with. What about uh, hmm, Fleetwood Mac? Sort of your vibe?”

You smile at him without meaning to, making him nearly stutter at the site, “Yeah, that’s sort of my vibe.”

“Alright,” he nods while he racks his brain for the perfect album to pick for you, “I think I got an idea of what to pull for you.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms with a smirk, “Fine. I hope it’s impressive.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grins cockily, “Never had anyone complain about me popping their cherry.”

“At least take a girl for a drink first,” you joke back, “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Eddie,” his hand extends out and you take it, his skin warm and slightly clammy at his never ending bumbling when talking to girls like you, “Happy to be taking your vinyl virginity today.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly when you introduce yourself before letting go, “Be gentle, please. I’m new to this.”

“C’mon,” he cocks his head to the opposite wall by the ‘F’ section, “I got a lot to show you. We’ll go slow.”

He winks again; making you swallow hard. It might not have been where you meant go today, but it might have been exactly where you were meant to be.