#eddie x latter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catherinnn · 10 days

Note

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

“No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business”

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #enemies to lovers

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kiwi-bitchez · 1 year

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Like Magic

Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni

Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending

Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)

Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you.

It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch.

There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming.

There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice.

The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you.

The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one.

You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen.

"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself."

You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you.

Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously.

"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."

You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part.

"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.

"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."

"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."

"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."

"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."

"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation.

"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters.

Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else.

"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."

"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you.

"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him.

"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.

"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up.

"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."

"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"

"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.

"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"

'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.

Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now.

"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie.

He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop.

"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.

"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen.

"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here."

You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them.

"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."

You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one.

"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."

"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."

"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you.

"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."

"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.

"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."

"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening.

"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester.

In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.

'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could."

For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were.

"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would.

You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat.

"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."

"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together?

"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine.

"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade.

"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."

You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal."

He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.

The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction.

Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy.

"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."

There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.

You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him.

He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear.

Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth.

You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."

Fuck.

Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you.

"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in."

His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.

When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you.

You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before.

"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."

Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel.

There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl."

You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten.

Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright.

"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced.

You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable.

With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-"

He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.

"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes.

You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say.

"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.

"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so."

"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."

"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water.

"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."

"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.

"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits.

"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards.

You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed.

You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken.

You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened.

Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked.

What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends.

You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options.

"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing.

"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish.

"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.

"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out."

"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie.

"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice."

A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.

You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over.

You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.

He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence.

“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense.

You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules.

You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem.

Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile.

That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment.

“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.

“I was reading,” you continue to protest.

“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”

You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor.

Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later.

After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you.

As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities.

Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them.

“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door.

“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-”

You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?

To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him.

“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding.

“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible.

“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why.

“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”

“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing.

“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”

“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.

“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”

“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours.

“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”

You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried.

You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel.

Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.

He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so.

While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.

The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw.

Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in.

His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."

You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force.

"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy.

"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it."

You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight.

"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"

"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was.

"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else."

He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience.

“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”

His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.

“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.”

“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze.

“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”

You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches.

His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.

You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could.

He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm.

He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure.

Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars.

He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off.

"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"

"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there.

The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced.

Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out.

Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit.

"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'

He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world.

'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."

Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him.

You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth.

"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure.

"Fuck, sorry," you pant out.

"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."

"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."

A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock.

"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.

"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."

"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."

He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly.

"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"

You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you.

"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it.

"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"

"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue.

"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head.

"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right?

After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass.

"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work."

You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."

"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you."

With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size.

It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry.

You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you.

"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well."

You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head.

"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself.

"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."

He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you.

"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."

"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts.

"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."

The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure.

"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it.

"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right.

The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body.

You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt.

"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity.

"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."

"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious.

"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."

"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"

"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."

"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?"

"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."

With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so.

"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.

"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel.

Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you.

"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"

“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars.

He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you.

He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up.

He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum.

“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are.

He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him.

He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes.

You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep.

“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.

“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel.

“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.”

“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour.

“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated.

“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”

The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants.

A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess.

You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you.

“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”

“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup.

“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position.

“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety.

Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space.

“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing.

“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you.

Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen.

“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”

Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all.

All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #smut #smut fanfiction

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andvys · 3 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart

Warnings: weed consumption, mentions of death, mentions of sex, allusions to smut. this is mostly written from reader's pov, Steve's pov is only at the ending

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You step into a new territory and test the waters that Steve had already been dragged into.

Word count: 5k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult I know you're sick of me constantly saying this BUT thanks for working on this series with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

The lights that hang above the shelves in the living room illuminate the darkened room, casting a soft yellow glow on everything. The TV screen lights up brightly as the killer in the movie shows up dramatically again. The sound is low and no one is paying attention to the horror movie that you have all seen multiple times already. The rain paddles against the windows and the lightning crashes through the sky every few seconds or so, though no thunder has rumbled yet, making you feel relieved. The room smells like takeout and weed, dirty plates litter the coffee table but no one cares about that yet.

A big cloud of smoke lingers in the room as Eddie and Robin pass the joint back and forth, the latter talking his ear off about the date she had gone on with Vickie the night before, while your eyes are stuck on Michael Myers on the screen, taking the joint from Eddie when he offers it to you, you place it between your lips, squinting your eyes as you take a drag and inhale it deeply.

You can feel his eyes on you, you can feel them everywhere, on your face, on your upper body, on your bare legs, they’re burning into your skin and you’re now not as blind as you were days back when you thought that you were imagining things, that every slightest glance and touch from his were feeding you lies – that his touches were accidental and his glances meant nothing. But you were wrong, so very wrong.

For days, your mind has been plaguing you with thoughts about him, and it’s nothing new, really, but it was different than usual. Because before the dinner at Joyce’s and Hopper’s place, he had never given you anything to overthink about, to make yourself feel delusional over. Steve had never touched you before, at least not like that. He had never placed his hand on your waist, he had never brushed his knuckles against yours, he had never looked at you the way he did that night and he certainly never commented on the clothes you wear.

It drove you crazy, and it made you believe that he somehow figured you out, that he found out about your feelings and decided to torture you by teasing you with touches that he knew you wished had a deeper meaning. But he wouldn’t do that, especially not after your conversation weeks ago, not when he was doing everything to keep the peace. He wouldn’t do that – maybe King Steve would’ve done something like this, but not this Steve – not even when he still holds hatred for you.

Steve teased you, not accidentally, not unintended. He did it openly, because he wanted to for whatever reason and you only realized it today, when you walked through his front door behind Eddie who held the bags of takeout, you were met with the same teasing look in Steve’s eyes you saw that night. He licked his lips and let his eyes run up and down your body so shamelessly that it almost threw you off because where was this all coming from?

When did he go from hating your guts, from arguing every chance he got to whatever this is.

Not only did he look at you like he was ready to flirt, he also placed his hand on your lower back when he led you into the living room earlier – and as though that wasn’t enough to make you crumble, he also leaned in to whisper ‘cute skirt, Blondie.’

Cute skirt!? His husky voice and those words kept repeating themselves like a broken record ever since they fell from his lips, they made you think so hard that you dissociated while eating the fries that you’ve been craving all day, missing the conversation between your friends and half of the movie that you watched before Eddie put on Halloween. Only the touch of Steve’s hand pulled you back into reality, you almost jumped from your seat when you felt his hand on your knee when he very obviously pretended to reach over you to grab the bottle of ketchup with a smirk on his face. That was evidence enough for you to realize that all his touches were intended and he did want to tease you, but not for the reason you thought.

Why? You still don’t know.

You’re pretty sure that he isn’t attracted to you, at least not in the way you are to him.

But if he wants to play this game, then you certainly won’t pass up on the opportunity to tease him back a little, though testing the waters first – because you absolutely won’t make a fool of yourself in front of him.

You have to take it slow until you’re completely sure that he is doing what you think he’s doing.

You glance at Eddie, his eyes are rimmed with redness, a lazy smile plays on his lips, his eyes are stuck on the screen but he is so far gone in his mind, he is not paying attention to anything anymore, not Robin’s rambling, not the movie and certainly not to you and Steve.

Robin’s hair is sprawled across the pillow, she looks up at the ceiling, the joint now back between her lips but she’s still rambling.

They won’t notice anything.

You take a sip of your drink, eying Steve from the side, and he is already looking at you, he is looking at you in a way that would drive your teenage self up the wall – you’d be a blushing and giddy mess thinking about it for the rest of the day, daydreaming about things that would never even happen. But you’re not a teenager anymore, his glances and touches still make you blush – but you’re not stupid and you certainly don’t daydream about things that aren’t even there.

You still don’t know why is he looking at you that way but the little sweet voice in your head is telling you that he might have harbored a tiny little crush after seeing you in a stupid dress while the other voice is telling you that Steve Harrington wants to fuck you. These voices might belong to the ghosts of Chrissy and Billy because in no way would you ever think that Steve could ever feel anything more than hatred for you.

How will he react if you tease him back a little?

You don’t even have to make it obvious, you can play it off, you can play anything off.

“Do you guys want something sweet?” Steve asks, “I got ice cream in the freezer.”

“What else do you have?” Eddie slurs, something that makes Robin giggle.

“Uh, M&M’s, Reese’s, Sour gummies,” Steve mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he looks up, thinking of what else he got in his cabinet, “I got some chips too.”

Eddie looks at Steve, pointing at him with his ringed finger, “I want it all.”

Steve snorts at him and at the dazed look on his face, “alright. I’m just gonna clean this up first,” he points to the mess on the table.

Perfect.

“I’ll help.”

His eyes meet yours, a slight smirk tugs at his lips, “you sure you wanna get your hands dirty, Blondie?”

“Oh, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” you smirk and break eye contact, rising up from the seat and swallowing down the nervousness.

The space between the coffee table and the couch isn’t exactly big, and it gives you the perfect opportunity to make the first little step. With an innocent look on your face, you glance at him one more time, before you turn your back to him, bending over in front of him to pick up the dirty plates. Your heart is pounding and your cheeks are already burning but you pay no mind to that.

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, you can hear it.

Should you even be surprised? His eyes almost bulged out of his skull when your skirt rode up after you just sat down earlier, his eyes were glued on your bare thighs the whole goddamn time and you saw it and yet your heart skips a beat at his reaction just now.

You’re aware of how short your skirt is and that all it takes is for you to bend down a slight bit more for him to see more than just your thighs, a little further down and he will be able to see your ass and your panties.

You bite back the smirk as you stack up the dirty plates, taking your sweet time with it. You can feel his eyes on your body and it takes everything in you not to turn around to look at his face but your little plan backfires when you suddenly feel his hands on your hips and his breath on your shoulder. You freeze.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, “it’s so tight in here.”

Blood rushes to your face and your stomach fills with butterflies. His touch and his voice sending shivers down your spine.

This is bad. This is so very bad.

You heard the mischief in his voice and his touch still lingers, he doesn’t need to take that long to squeeze past you.

You don’t know what’s gotten into him or you, it might be the weed in your system or just the spur of the moment but as you pick up all the plates, you take a step back and press yourself against him, only for a one… or two seconds but long enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours, long enough to feel his hand squeezing your hip for a single second, long enough to hear him sucking in another sharp breath.

And then, you step away from him like nothing happened, with innocence in your eyes, you look over your shoulder, “you’re right, it is really tight.”

You see the way his lips part a little, the way his eyes darken and the way he clenches his jaw. He is angry that you are not falling for his teasing, that you are doing the same to him that he does to you.

You walk into the kitchen and carrying the dishes over to the sink, you put them down and place your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes, only now noticing how fast your heart is beating and how clammy your hands are, you give yourself a moment to calm down before you reach for the dish soap and the sponge after you turn on the water.

Flirting is nothing new to you and you’re certainly not shy about it, not anymore.

Billy was your best friend, and if there’s something he was good at, then it was flirting and taking home girls. He taught you how to be more confident, how to embrace your sensuality and he taught you how to flirt.

Losing your best friend took a toll on you and you couldn’t stand to be in Hawkins when every place you had gone to, reminded you of him, so you left for a little while. You spent two months in Indianapolis and stayed with your sister. You started going out, parties your sister had dragged you to, clubs and downtown bars and you had fun. For the first time in your life, you were approached by men, they flirted with you and that felt… good. You let your guard down when you were with them, you didn’t feel the need to hide yourself from them, they wouldn’t stay in your life for longer than a night, you didn’t have to fear them leaving or hurting you, there was no attachment, no connection or anything deeper between you than lust, you could be yourself in those few hours you spend with them.

They made you feel something other than grief, sadness and heartbreak. They were nothing but strangers to you but you felt something in those nights you spent in their beds, their touches brought you back to life… even if only temporarily.

You are used to flirting, you are used to teasing, it’s an easy game to you… with strangers. But Steve Harrington? He makes you nervous, he makes your heart race like crazy, he burns you with only his glances, and his touches make you feel like you have been kissed by something out of this world. He is different, he is no meaningless man in your life, he is not someone you would kick out of your bed after taking from him what you wanted, he is not someone you could easily leave behind and never look back to again. No, Steve holds your heart in the palm of his hand, he left a tear in your soul, he is the someone you would do anything for and that changes everything. You can’t treat him like you treated them because he is special, every little interaction with him, sets your heart on fire.

“Jesus, Blondie!” Steve’s voice sounds through the kitchen, making you flinch in surprise, “use less dish soap, one drop is enough!”

With furrowed brows you look down at all the foam in the sink. It’s not even bad.

You turn around, glaring at the man and the tone in his voice.

He shakes his head at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he walks towards you.

“Are you washing the dishes or me!?” You growl at him, ignoring the tension that still lingers between the two of you.

Steve chuckles as he stops beside you, raising his hands up in surrender, “you didn’t have to do it, don’t blame it on me.”

You turn back to the plate you were washing, scraping the sponge against it harshly as you try not to look at him, which turns out to be just another challenge – he inches closer to you, breathing down your neck and staring at you. You throw the sponge down and reach for the lever, not noticing the way his eyes widen a little or how he reaches his hand out.

“Wait careful with t–” he gets cut off by the water that starts streaming from the broken lever.

“Fuck!” You curse loudly, followed by a gasp when the cold water sprinkles all over your neck and your chest, you throw the plate into the sink and reach for the lever again but Steve grabs your hand, not letting you turn it off the way you want to, he is trying to move to it into a different direction, it only confuses you even more and his touch doesn’t help either.

“Hold still!” Steve snaps at you.

Your whole chest is already wet from all the water you have been hit with and his angry voice irritates you.

“Why don’t you get drenched huh!?”

With a loud sigh, he lets go and you almost start raging. You lean forward, grabbing the lever with both hands when you suddenly feel him behind you, his chest against your back, his whole body pressed against yours as he reaches his arms around you, placing his both hands on top of yours, the water now getting all over the both of you as his now wet fingers handle the broken lever.

You hear his groan as the water hits him in the face when he leans over your shoulder and he grips your hand tighter.

And then, the water stops sprinkling and the only sound that continues to fill the room is the rain that still rolls down the windows and your heavy breathing.

Your chest is rising up and down heavily and so is his, you can feel it against your back, and you can feel his breath on your neck and your shoulder, and you now feel it all by tenfold, thanks to your wet skin, it sends chills all over. You can still feel his hands on top of yours, his much bigger hands that cover yours fully. Your eyes are glued on them and the way their fingers trace your own for a very short moment.

Your heart is beating so wildly in your chest that you fear that he might hear it.

You can feel the water dripping down your shoulder, not the one from your hair but the water from his face.

Despite the nervousness in your chest, you slowly pull your hands away and turn around to face him, only for a gasp threatening to fall from your lips when you notice how close he actually is, how close he had never been before, not even in Joyce’s kitchen, last week. Your chest is almost pressed against his, his face only inches away, lips so close that you can feel his breath on yours. You’re surprised when he doesn’t move his hands away, letting them fall on the counter and your sides.

His hazel eyes stare into yours so intensely that it almost knocks the breath out of you, the look in them making you feel hot all over your body that you don’t even feel the cold water seeping through your white shirt any longer.

Strands of his hair hang in front of his eyes, water dripping from them and rolling down his cheek, your eyes follow the drops that lead to his lips, making you gulp when you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him or even just to touch his lips with your fingers – you dig your nails into your wet palms.

You don’t even notice how Steve grips the edges of the counter so tightly to the point that his knuckles turn white, but you notice the way his eyes move down to your chest and to your now see-through shirt, the lacy black bra being on full display now… almost.

You are both breathing heavily, still, whether it’s because of the shock or something else now – you feel the tension, it’s so heavy, heavier than before and it’s making your insides churn in a way that weakens you.

Neither of you say anything, you are too busy staring at each other, you are too busy wanting him more and more.

This is not enough.

How could this ever be enough?

You have always wanted this, to be this close, to feel his touch, to find out what it’s like to kiss him, to feel him.

This isn’t fair… This isn’t fair to you. Because this is only making things so much harder for you.

You know you have to snap out of it, even when he makes no move to pull away, to stop staring, to let go of the counter and step away from your body.

You have to snap out of it or else you will do something that you will regret for the rest of your life.

You swallow the lump in your throat, you ignore the beating of your heart, you ignore the shakiness in your hands and you blink as you tilt your head up, looking back into his eyes again.

“Lego head,” you whisper shakily, “the water stopped.”

He snaps out of his stupor, blinking and clearing his throat as he averts his gaze.

He steps away and you make a move to escape this, to escape him but neither of you have noticed just how messy the situation has actually gotten – the water didn’t just sprinkle all over the both of you, it soaked the ground beneath your feet, making the tiles slippery enough for you to lose control and almost take the fall. Almost.

A gasp tears from your lips when Steve’s hand grabs at your waist and the other reaches for the counter behind you again. Out of instinct, you lift your hand and grab his arm to hold onto him, steadying him as well as he slipped too. He lets go of your waist, gripping the counter with both hands just like he did seconds ago, caging you in completely. He isn’t only close anymore, he is pressed against you completely – his chest flush against yours, his nose bumping into yours causing you to let out another soft gasp.

And then, you both freeze again.

You blink. He blinks. Neither of you make a move.

He looks down at your lips, causing your heart to skip so strongly that you feel it in your whole chest and even your throat.

“Shit, Blondie.”

His voice is so low and deep that it makes you shudder, your blood rushing to more than just your face now.

“I didn’t know you were such a clutz,” he murmurs, shakily as his eyes get stuck on your chest again.

He is nervous, just like you are, you can tell by the sound of his voice.

You stare at him, struggling to find your words.

How can you when he looks at you that way?

As you stand there, caged in by his strong arms, staring up at the man that is much taller and bigger than you, something that makes him all the more attractive, you feel yourself not only longing for his heart but also his body… on top of yours. His much bigger hands on your bare body, his lips on your skin, him inside of you… You are fucked. You are so utterly and completely fucked.

Steve Harrington could do anything with you, and he is not even aware of the powers he holds over you.

Footsteps echo through the hallway, causing yours and his eyes to widen and he quickly pulls away from you, careful not to slip again. You pull your hands back, now holding onto the counter yourself.

Eddie and Robin come rushing into the room just as Steve steps far enough away from you.

They both halt in their tracks, gasping at the sight of the two of you all soaked from the water. They stare with wide eyes before they turn to look at each other, holding back only for two seconds before they burst into laughter.

You’re not sure if the sight is really that funny or if they’re just high enough to laugh about anything.

Eddie bends over, holding his stomach as he continues laughing while pointing between the two of you, Robin holding onto his shoulder as her giggles sound through the kitchen.

You press your lips together and clench your jaw as you look over at Steve, who nods at the both of them with an annoyed look on his face.

“What the hell happened!?” Eddie asks through his laughter.

His voice snaps you out from the daze you were just in… and thank god.

With a glare, you keep your eyes on Steve, “this fucker didn’t tell me that his sink was jammed and that a little bit of a force can break the lever.”

Steve groans, though not looking at you, he wipes his face as he steps away, “right, blame it on me for your sudden force.”

He walks out of the kitchen, brushing past Eddie and Robin who stop laughing when he gives them a deadly glare, the one you’re throwing at his back as he leaves to go upstairs, probably to get changed while you stand there with your soaked shirt.

You carefully step away from the puddle of water in front of you, making your way over to the kitchen island to grab some of the napkins. You dry your face off first, not even bothering with your shirt.

Despite their amused faces, your friends walk over to you, wanting to help.

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles as he grabs a napkin, he gives you a smirk, “who got you this wet, Sweetheart?”

You raise your head up, glaring at your best friend who starts chuckling again.

“This is porn material right there,” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you as he points at your white shirt, but he is not even looking, even though your bra is very visible through the material now – what a gentleman.

Robin chuckles, “should’ve kept the bra off, babe.”

Your jaw drops as you stare at them with a stunned expression on your face, “pervs!”

Robin keeps on chuckling as she walks over the cabinets, searching for clean kitchen towels. Eddie steps closer to you, patting your face dry with the napkins, which only makes you giggle when his brows knit together in concentration.

Eddie’s eyes flash with amusement as he keeps pressing the napkin against your cheek, shaking his head at your laughter.

“What’s so funny, smiley?”

You snort at the nickname, and open your mouth to reply when Steve walks back into the room, his face now dry, hair still wet but no longer dripping. He’s wearing a different shirt now and he holds towels and a sweater in his hands, halting in his tracks, he looks between you and Eddie – his eyes flash with something that you can’t read, his face hardens and he clenches his jaw, you don’t know why but the expression causes your laughter to die down.

“Here,” Steve mumbles, tearing his gaze away from the both of you, he looks at the ground as he makes his way over to you, “those napkins won’t do much.”

He hands you the towels and then his sweater.

“And take your shirt off, Blondie,” he orders, “you can wear my sweater.”

Your chest warms at his words and your heart flutters, and it only makes you feel irritated – this means nothing, this isn’t special, you aren’t special. He’d give his sweater to anyone under these circumstances.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you put the sweater on the counter, using the soft white towel to dry yourself off first.

Eddie steps away from you, throwing the napkin into the trash before he makes his way over to Steve’s snack drawer, completely ignoring the puddle of water.

“Dude, you could clean this up,” Robin mumbles, pointing at the mess on the floor.

Eddie scrunches his nose up, “why don’t you clean it up?”

Steve rolls his eyes at them, “I got this, I’ll clean it up.”

Eddie starts rummaging through the drawer, picking out snacks as Robin turns around to look at you, and at Steve who stares at you with his hands on his hips.

The shirt sticks to your body uncomfortably, goosebumps litter your skin from the cold water that seeps through the thin material, you want it off immediately.

You take the sweater, still holding the towel close against your chest, you look up at Steve, “I’m gonna go change…”

He nods, “yeah, you can uh… use the bathroom downstairs or mine, whatever you want.”

You ignore the burning in your cheeks, the pounding in your heart as you brush past him and leave the kitchen, making your way into the bathroom. Your friend’s chatter fades away as you close the door behind you, locking it, a shaky sigh falls from your lips as you press your back against it. You close your eyes, giving yourself a moment to just breathe.

What the hell just happened?

With shaky legs, you walk towards the sink, dropping the towel and the sweater on the counter before you finally take a look in the mirror, only to gasp when you see just how much you can actually see through your shirt. You grow flustered knowing that Steve could see you like this.

You groan in embarrassment, reaching for the hem of your shirt, you peel it off your body, replacing it with his sweater – something that fills you with warmth the moment the soft material touches your skin, your heart skips a beat when you look back at your reflection, taking in the sight of his sweater on your body.

You swallow the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by fixing your hair – you won’t let your mind go there, you won’t let yourself think too deeply about anything. This is just a sweater. And yet, your heart won’t stop racing and you can’t deny how such a small thing can make you feel so… comforted.

When you return into the kitchen, you find it empty, the water puddle on the floor already gone but the dirty plates are still in the sink – you surely won’t risk getting wet again. You turn around and make your way over into the living room, where Eddie and Robin are back in their previous positions, snacking on Doritos.

Steve is lying on the couch with his arm behind his back, the remote in his hand as he flips through the channels.

You tug at the sleeves of his sweater, suddenly feeling shy as you walk into the room, wearing something of his.

You don’t look at him as you walk past him, you also don’t look at him as you sit down on the couch, all that you’re focused on is the pounding in your heart and the nervousness that you still feel after everything that happened minutes ago.

You don’t notice the way he freezes when he takes a look at you, the way he stops flipping through the channels, the way his cheeks flush red when he looks at the sweater on your body – he knows that the only thing underneath the blue sweater of his, is a black, lacy bra and it makes him feel… flustered.

He sees the way you tug at the hem of his sweater when it rides up, pulling your short skirt along, he sees the way you bite down on your lip, he sees the way you glance at him nervously and suddenly Steve feels his blood rushing south.

He swore to himself that he would never do what he did last week, and he really tried to resist you.

But how can he?

How can he resist when you so clearly are doing it too now?

Or is he reading the signs wrong?

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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harringtonstilinski · 2 months

Text

Pour Some Sugar On Me - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 7,233 Warnings: fluff, squint super hard for angst, mentions of weed, using the hellfire club scene again bite me, trying to do more dirty talk so pls be gentle even though it's not much, Requested: no | yes; Smut (Minors DNI): no | yes, 18+; protected p in v, talks of masturbation, public, A/N: Hi, friends! The Upside Down doesn't exist in this. Also, the Party's in 8th grade, so no Hellfire members are mentioned except for Eddie. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?

“No.”

“Sweetheart, please!”

Sighing, you stopped walking to turn and face your best friend, your books clutched to your chest. “Why?”

“Because we need you!”

“I don’t know anything about D&D! Why would you make me torture myself with trying to learn how to play while you and the rest of Hellfire have been playing for literal years?”

Eddie went to open his mouth, but stopped short when he realized… you were right. He raised his brows with a frown on his face, an unimpressed look on his face as he agreed with you. “You’re right. That’s fair.” When he looked back at your figure, he noticed… you weren’t standing there at all, having walked away.

Following you, he exclaimed, “Sweets!” Resting his hand gently on your arm as he caught up with you, he took a breath and said, “Come on! At least just sit in your chair. You can read or do homework or watch us play. You love doing one of those.”

It was true. You did love doing one of those three things while they played. If you read or did your homework, you’d pause and watch them for a moment, and sometimes while you actually watched them, you’d lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he wasn’t being all dramatic to just rest your eyes for a moment.

He would never admit it, but that was Eddie’s favorite moment; your head leaned against his shoulder with your eyes closed, your breathing even as you’d fall asleep while he and the rest of Hellfire would play. As he looked at you, he was silently hoping that you’d do it again at this meeting.

As you sighed, you went to answer him, but your name being called had you looking towards the source, another sigh falling from your lips. “What, Steve?”

Jogging up to you, Steve smiled and asked, “Hey, you gonna come to the game tonight?”

When you looked back at Eddie, you saw how uncomfortable he was, and it was then and there that you made your decision. Looking back at Steve, you answered, “I can’t. I’m going to Hellfire tonight. I kinda owe Eddie.”

Said boy looked at you, shock in his eyes as you stayed looking at Steve, the latter nodding his head and smiling softly.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said.

Resting your hand on his arm, you frowned, replying, “I’m sorry. I’ll come to the next game. Promise.”

He sighed, bringing you into a hug. “Okay, bug.” Kissing the top of your head, he sighed. Looking into your eyes, he reminded you to be good and not do anything he wouldn’t do, which in turn made you laugh.

When you turned to look at Eddie, he still had that same look on his face that he had while you were talking to Steve. “What?” you chuckled.

“You’re gonna come tonight?” he asked.

Starting your walk to your locker, Eddie followed as you replied, “Well, you wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, so…”

Eddie softly laughed behind you, taking quick strides to your side, putting his arm around your shoulders. “You know you love it.”

You couldn’t deny, you released a breath with a smile on your face as you answered, “Yeah. I do.”

~~~

“It’s forced conformity,” Eddie said, walking back across the table.

“Oh, my god, Eddie, get down,” you whispered, head hidden in your book.

He listened, but not like how you wanted. Instead, he jumped down and yelled, “That’s what’s killing the kids!”

Feeling totally embarrassed, you went back to reading and blocked out most of the events that happened after that, coming back to reality as he said, “And all you gotta do is get your Bo-Peep’s on and go and find one.”

When he took his seat back at the head of the table, you looked at him with furrowed brows, asking, “Get their Bo-Peep’s on?”

“Ya’know. Like Bo-Peep and her sheep?”

You looked at him for a moment before looking back at your book while saying, “You’re so stupid.”

All Eddie could do was chuckle, reaching into his lunchbox to retrieve a pretzel, a smile present on his face. As he chewed his food, his smile fell as a thought raced his mind. “Hey, sweetheart?”

“Hm?” you hummed, eyes still on the page, but your attention fully on Eddie.

“I have this, uhm… thing after school… in the woods.”

Well, that grabbed your attention. “What? I thought we were hanging out before Hellfire like we always do?”

“And we will,” Eddie said, reaching to lightly touch your forearm, his brows raised. “I just, uhm… have to meet someone… in the woods.” He didn’t want to admit to himself, but he loved touching you, within reason; your arm, your knee, your shoulder, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles like the romance movies. Honestly, he felt like he couldn’t get enough.

You looked at him as he quickly eyed his lunchbox before looking back at you, never having moved his hand. Sighing, you closed your eyes, focusing on Eddie’s hand resting on your arm to ground you. Hating to admit it to yourself, you loved feeling his touch on you. You often thought about it when you were up late at night, unable to sleep, thinking about what it would feel like for him to touch you while you pleasured yourself.

Eddie’s hand lightly squeezed where it rested on your forearm. “I know you don’t like it–”

“Eddie, I don’t just not like it,” you whispered. “I hate it.” Looking down, you couldn't help but feel emotional at the mention of his ‘side job’. When he had admitted to you one night that he had started selling weed, you got into a heated argument about it, your best friend telling you that he was doing it to help his Uncle Wayne.

You had understood his reasoning, but were more afraid of him getting caught selling it, or smoking it, or just having possession of it. He had assured you that he would get caught, and that he’d be safe with it. So far, so good.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Moving his hand to yours that was gripping your book, removing your hand to hold your fingers, almost like he was getting ready to kiss your knuckles like he did from time to time. Instead, he just held them, looking into your eyes. “I promise you, I’ll be done quickly. Just wait for me at the van, okay?”

Sighing, you nodded, closing your eyes. When you opened them back up, you looked Eddie straight in the eye and smirked before asking, “Can I sit in the back? With the doors open?” You knew he didn’t care and would say yes. Hell, he’d let you sit on the goddamn roof if you wanted to.

Softly laughing, he lowered his head before bringing your hand towards his face, his lips ghosting over your fingers as he lifted his head and whispered, “Anything for you, m’lady,” before kissing your fingers, a giggle erupting from you.

The entire time the two of you had your moment, the rest of Hellfire looked on with annoyed looks on their faces, each of them wondering if the two of you were ever getting together.

~~~

When the bell rang after lunch and in between classes, you carried on with your day like normal, only your anxiety started to spike at the thought of Eddie in the woods with his damn lunchbox during last period, and just like he did every day, Eddie was waiting for you by the front doors of the school.

As he watched you approach him, he held his arm out for you to take, muttering a “M’lady,” with a smile on his face, making you laugh like he did every day. He walked you to his van, opening the back doors for you before helping you hop inside. Deciding to make a bold move, he placed himself between your legs, his hands on either side of your outer thighs. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Shaking his head at you, he added quietly, “Don’t go anywhere.”

Your breath hitched as he stood before you before you nodded your head, saying just as quietly, “I won’t.” Holding up your book, you added, “I’ll just be sitting here reading.” When he leaned forward, you closed your eyes, feeling his lips on your forehead in a chaste kiss. Well, that was new.

He walked away, lunchbox in tow as he made his way towards the back of the school to the picnic table in the woods, where he met none other than Chrissy Cunningham. The entire time he was in the woods with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, constantly looking off in the direction of the school, a worried look on his face that didn’t go unnoticed by Chrissy.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

Quickly looking back at her, he raised his brows before furrowing them while nodding, answering, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. So, uhh… we gonna do this or what?” before his mind went back to you.

When you watched Eddie walk away, your facial expression went from one of nervousness to somewhat sadness. You were sad that he walked away from you to make a drug deal, moreso because he walked away. You wanted that moment with him to last, but as the universe would have it, you didn’t get what you wanted.

So, you turned your back to the wall of the van and leaned against it, bringing your knees up as you rested your book on your thighs, already lost in the words on the pages, the world of the book sucking you in.

As your eyes scanned the words of the scene you were reading, your mind couldn’t help but picture you and Eddie doing whatever the characters were doing, your bottom lip between your teeth.

You hadn’t even noticed two figures walking up to the back of the van and leaning against the bumper.

“Can you please remove your lip from your teeth?”

Well, that had your attention as you jumped about 10 feet out of your skin. Holding your chest with one hand and your book with the other, you looked at your little brother and just glared. “What the fuck, Dustin Wade?”

Chucklin, Steve asked, “Your middle name is Wade?”

It was Dustin’s turn to use that Henderson glare on his older male friend, responding, “Yes, it is. And what’s yours? Clarence.”

“Worse,” he answered.

“It’s Anthony,” you said, hiding behind your book.

Steve looked at you, mouth opened. “How dare you?” He said your middle name with such sarcasm, your face went from playful to annoyed.

“Go the fuck away.”

They both laughed, which in turn made you chuckle before you asked, “Okay, but seriously, what do you guys want?”

“We came over to ask you if it was okay if I went to watch Steve play,” Dustin said. “He said–”

“I can take him home right after,” Steve agreed.

With a confused look, you asked, “Don’t have to shower and celebrate with the team after?”

“He can take me after he showers or just changes,” Dustin suggested. He looked at Steve and added, “He can even shower at our house and stay the night.”

“Yeah, yeah! I can do that!” Steve said.

Narrowing your eyes at Steve, you said, “You better make sure he gets home, Harrington, or else I will spill your hair care routine to everyone in this godforsaken school, and maybe even the whole town.”

“Yup, I’ll leave right after the game.”

“Good.” Looking at Dustin, you said, “Please be good, no funny business, and tell mom to not wait up.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin asked.

Sighing, you crossed your legs, resting your hands in the middle, one of your fingers still in the pages of your book. “I’m going to Hellfire with Eddie tonight. He’s been working on this campaign forever and he wants me to be there.”

Both boys looked at each other, different expressions on each of their faces before Dustin turned to face you once more, saying, “Fair enough. You be good. Don’t make dumb choices.”

Chuckling, you uncrossed your legs, bringing your knees back up, saying, “Yeah, okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” they both replied, a genuine laugh spilling from your lips as your eyes went back to the pages. You weren’t sure how long you’d been reading for. The only thing you were sure of was the sun; it was high in the sky when you saw your brother and best friend, but had started to set when you thought Eddie wouldn’t return.

So, you crawled more into the back, finding the pillows and blankets he’d left in there. You crawled back to the spot you were just previously occupying, placing the pillow where your butt had sat, laying horizontally with the blanket draped over your body, your eyes falling shut.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about Eddie, a quiet “goddammit,” falling from your lips as you realized… you liked your best friend.

~~~

His meeting with Chrissy took a little longer than he expected. It basically turned into an instruction session before turning into a therapy session. As he walked back to the parking lot, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Chrissy helped Eddie open his eyes at his feelings for you. Even though he didn’t want to admit his feelings, he knew he would eventually have to. So, as he continued walking to his van, he ran a hand down his face, muttering a quiet, “goddammit,” to himself before rounding the back of the van, stopping dead in his tracks as he spotted your sleeping form.

He couldn’t help but watch as your shoulders and chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Sitting on the edge of the van, he reached out, lightly brushing a strand of hair away from your face causing you to stir.

When you opened your eyes, you looked at him and smiled a sleep smile in his direction before essentially… falling back asleep.

Eddie chuckled, resting his hand on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing along your cheekbone. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, a quiet hum being your answer to him. As he smirked, he said, “It’s almost time for Hellfire, baby. You still gonna sit and watch?”

Slowly opening your eyes, you breathed in a breath, tilting your head into Eddie’s hand that was still resting on your cheek. “Yeah,” you whispered. Sitting up, you let the blanket fall from your shoulder and bunch up at your waist. With furrowed brows, you looked at your best friend and asked, “What took so long?”

Sighing, Eddie moved to climb in the back of the van with you to retrieve his Hellfire bag. “Chrissy turned the sale into a therapy session after I explained everything to her about… well, ya’know.”

You nodded your head at the same time Eddie turned back around to face you.

“Anyway. I’d probably still be out there if she hadn't noticed what time it was, seeing as she has to be at the game and all.”

“Right,” you whispered, looking down at your book. Picking it up, you muttered, “I thought I put you up,” before you grabbed your backpack to put the book back in. You pulled the blanket off of you and went to fold it when Eddie’s hand stopped you, a shiver running down your spine at the touch.

“Don’t fold it yet,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Because.” He wanted to say what was on his mind, but stopped himself, instead saying, “I know you get cold in the drama room. You can bring it to warm yourself up.”

A smile spread across your face as you tilted your head down, not wanting him to see the blush creeping on your cheeks. “Okay.”

After he jumped from the back of the van, he held his hand out to you, a smile on his face as he said, “M’lady?”

Chuckling, you slid off the back to your feet, hand still in his as you looked at him, saying, “You’re so stupid.”

~~~

Once the boys had everything set up and were sitting in their spots, Eddie took his place at the head of the table on, what he liked to call, his throne. You sat next to Eddie, sighing while draping the blanket over your legs, bringing them up to bend at the knee and tilting them to the side, letting your knee rest against the arm rest.

Just as you opened your book to pick up where you left off, Eddie said something about hooded cultists chanting something about lord Vecna.

“They turn to you, remove their hoods,” Eddie said, your eyes lifting to look at him from the corner of your eye. “You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled–”

As Eddie spoke and started to stand, you lowered your book, his voice sucking you in like a damn vice. He looked at you as he whispered, “Desiccated,” making you jump a little.

“And something else,” he said, softly, turning to the rest of the group. “He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” After putting his left arm behind his back, he reached over his head with his right arm, covering his left eye.

The boys all protested while your brows scrunched in confusion as they started shouting their opinions from the last campaign.

“Vecna’s dead!”

“He was killed by Kas!”

Eddie looked at you with a smirk as he sat down before going back into his Dungeon Master character, as he liked to call it. “So it was thought, my friends, so it was thought.” Grabbing the Vecna playing piece, he stood and said, “But Vecna lives!” before playing the piece on the board.

“What the fuck?” you whispered.

“You are scared, you’re tired, you are injured,” Eddie said. “Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?” He looked at you, leaning his hands on the table and asked, “What say you, princess? Do you think they’ll flee… or fight?”

You thought for a moment before shrugging, “If they’re not a bunch of pussies, that’d fight.”

His eyes slightly widened, his cock twitching at the dirty words that came from your mouth… or what he considered to be dirty. Looking back at his friends, he said, “Come on.”

After a few moments, one of them said, “I say we fight. Do the death,” everyone else around the table giving their agreements.

You watched as Eddie chuckled, a warmth in your belly starting to form. Deciding not to wait another day, you started to quickly form a plan in your head as to how you’d show Eddie exactly how you feel.

Eddie sat back down, happy with the turn of events. He knew that if you have your opinion, the rest of the group would agree to it. On the nights you weren’t there, they would lose the campaign and go home thinking of ways they could’ve won, as opposed to the nights you were there, they’d win, going with the opinion you gave.

When he needed inspiration for his campaign, Eddie would come to your house or call you to have you come to his trailer, just to sit and enjoy your company. You’d fall asleep half the time, but that didn’t matter to him. Your company was all he needed.

As you sat next to Eddie, half watching and half reading, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights with him, sitting with him in his room while he wrote the campaign they’re all playing. The way he would pace in front of his bed, stopping at his Sweetheart to strum her strings before going back to the task at hand.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his hands hold you, touch you, feel you the way he did his guitar. You also couldn’t but wonder what his fingers would feel like, caressing your skin, tucking your hair behind your ear, lacing his fingers between yours. The third thing you couldn’t but wonder about… was his mouth, and what it could do to you.

When one of the members called for a time-out, you were brought out of your thoughts, not realizing that you were just staring at nothing on the page in front of you. A hand on your knee caused you to jump, looking down at the ringed finger on your best friend’s hand.

Looking up at him, you noticed the crease between his eyebrows as he asked, “You okay?”

Nodding, you took in a breath. “I guess I got lost in thought.”

“About what?” His hand was still there, on your knee.

You took a breath to reply, but stopped yourself from doing so as you furrowed your own brows, looking at the huddle at the other end of the table as you heard, “Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.”

Sighing heavily, you looked back at your book, your index finger between the pages to turn when you were ready. You could feel the eyes of the members on you as you read the words you’d read a million times that night before saying in a sing-song manner, “I wouldn’t be a bunch of pussies, if I were you.”

“Pussies? Really? ‘Cause we’re not delusional?”

“Delusional? How about… not cowards?” you shrugged.

Eddie’s voice yelling out, “Hey!” had your head quickly turning towards him, noticing he wasn’t sitting in his chair, but sitting on the armrest furthest from you. “If I may interject, gentlemen–” He looked at you with a smirk. “Princess.” Looking back at the boys, he continued as he switched armrests, “Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gregory the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?”

They all turned back around as you looked back down at your book, chuckling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, bumping his ribcage with your shoulder.

“Nothing,” you said, a smile on your face. “It’s just–” You yawned, closing your book. “-nice to see you in your element.” Putting your book up, you felt like you couldn’t keep your eyes open. When you leaned back against the back of the seat, you brought your knees back up, having placed your feet on the ground when reaching for your bag.

Leaning your head against the back of the chair, you felt the blanket being draped over your form, your eyes falling shut, but you weren’t yet asleep when the boys came back to the table, standing at the end. You did, however, fall right asleep before they started to roll the 20 sided die, which was only a couple of minutes later.

Eddie’s sole focus was on that 20 sided die, he hadn’t noticed you fell asleep, head slouched over more to the point where your hairline was almost touching his throne. When the die said 20, the club cheered loudly, Eddie saying, “What? What?” before clapping and looking at your sleeping form.

“That’s why we play, princess,” he whispered. “That’s why we play.”

~~~

You woke up to the unmistakable sound of Eddie putting on his jacket, opening your eyes to catch him pulling his hair from under the leather before you sat up and started stretching, a yawn escaping you.

Eddie turned at the sound of your yawn, sitting back down in his throne, resting a hand on your arm. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “How’d you sleep?”

Shrugging, you softly replied, “As good as you can in this chair,” before softly chuckling. “Did they win?”

He nodded, bringing his hand up to your face, brushing some hair from your face. “Crit hit.”

As you scrunched your brows, you tried to think of what the crit hit meant… and then it came to you. “Crit hit equals good thing.”

Proud that you remembered something he taught you, Eddie smiled a little bigger, nodding his head. “That’s right, princess.”

With your eyes locked on his, and his on yours, you brought your foreheads together, closing your eyes while sighing. “Eddie,” you whispered. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

He nodded against your forehead, his eyes having been closed. This was it, he thought to himself. She’s going to reject me. “I know, and it’s okay.”

Confused, you lifted your head while opening your eyes, looking at his crestfallen expression. “What’s okay?”

Eddie dropped his hand, letting out a heavy sigh while standing. He walked to the side of the table, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose while the other went to his hip, his back somewhat towards you. “The rejection,” he whispered. Trying to compose himself, he turned towards you a little, resting his hands on the table, much like he did earlier in the night. Hanging his head, he said, “Just get it over with.”

You had stood when the word rejection came from his lips. “Rejection? You think I’m rejecting you? Eddie, that was the furthest thing from my mind.” Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek furthest from you, you turned his head to face you, his eyes not following. “Eddie, look at me,” you whispered.

Sighing, he turned his eyes toward you, those chocolate brown eyes you loved so much staring back at you as your thumb moved across his cheek, gently stroking.

“What I was gonna say–,” you said, so softly. “-was that I really like you. Hell, I may even love you-”

“As a friend,” he gritted through his teeth.

“As more,” you said sternly. “Eddie, listen. I’ve had a crush on you forever. Don’t ask me when it started because I don’t even fucking remember. You’ve introduced me to so much; metal, D&D, a world outside of popularity and basketball.”

It was true. You were considered popular just by knowing Steve Harrington, who was still your best friend in the entire world. Eddie was an added bonus. Though your popularity status went downhill after everyone found out you were hanging out with Eddie The Freak Munson, that didn’t stop you from hanging out with him or Steve, the latter still calling you his best friend. You didn’t care about your popularity status. All you cared about… was being around people that made you happy, and those people… were Eddie and Steve, respectfully. Your main focus right now being Eddie and his happiness.

“I love you for that,” you whispered.

With wide eyes, Eddie looked at you. “You love me, then?” Looking at a spot on his denim vest, you thought it over for just a moment before smiling and looking back into those chocolate eyes, whispering, “Yeah. I do.”

“Thank God,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours as he stood straighter.

It took you no time to kiss him back, your free hand coming up to cup his other cheek, your lips moving in sync as Eddie’s hands came to rest on your waist. His tongue traced your bottom lip, asking for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted.

As if a magnet were in between the two of you, the both of you pulled each other closer, your hands going into his hair as his hands went to your back, gently rubbing wherever he could.

You pulled back first, needing some much needed air as you rested your forehead against his. “I’ve thought about this for a really long time, Eds.”

“Me, too, baby.”

Sparking up an idea, you rested your hand on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Don’t move,” you said, enthusiastically frisky.

When you walked toward the door, Eddie’s eyes followed your form, a mischievous grin on his face. “What are you doing, princess?”

“Oh, you know–” Click. “Just… locking the door.” You turned back to face him, back against the door for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with a smile as you looked at him.

Eddie knew he was in trouble just with that smile on your face. He felt his cock twitch his pants, the black denim growing uncomfortably tight as he looked at you. “And, why, pray tell, are you… locking the door?”

“So that I can do this,” you said, making your way over to him.

As a confused look crossed his features as you walked up to him, he shook his head, his hair swaying with the motion as he went to ask, “Wha–” before your lips pressed to his. He was shocked, to say the least, but finally happy to have your lips on his.

Snaking your hands into his hair, you sighed happily as your lips moved in sync with Eddie’s, his tongue sneaking out to ask for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted. The moment your tongues touched, a soft moan escaped you, Eddie’s dick growing even harder than what he thought was capable.

“Damn, princess,” he muttered, kissing the corner of your mouth and cheek until he got to your neck. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for that?”

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, hand lightly resting on the back of his head as his lips searched for that sweet spot. Once he found it, you gasped, whispering, “Eddie! Right there.”

He went to work on your sweet spot, leaving a bruise there, licking at it to soothe it before kissing his way down to your collarbone, reaching with his hands to grab the hem of your shirt, lifting his head to look into your eyes, asking, “Can I take it off? If I’m gonna do anything else–”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Take it off. Take it all off.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head, lifting your shirt up and over your head, revealing… a plain black bra. “Damn, sweets.”

“It’s not special or anything–”

“Still hot.”

“Because it’s black?” you smirked.

He chuckled again, dipping his head to kiss at the tops of your breasts, snaking his hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, the straps falling from your shoulders. Once the material had slid down your arms, he looked at you, mouth watering. “Damn, babe,” he whispered.

Deciding to be a little daring, you lightly shimmied your chest, a small smile on your face as you did. “Like what you see, Eds?”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” he said, bringing his hand to the spot between your shoulder blades to pull you towards him, his lips descending to your nipple, wrapping around the bud.

As he licked and sucked, your hand found its purchase to the back of Eddie’s head again, leaving him there as moans and whimpers spilled from your lips. “Oh, my god.”

Breathing out a soft laugh as he switched to your other breast, he whispered, “I knew you’d like that.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” you asked, softly. Another moan made its way out of your throat at the feeling of his lips and fingers going to work on both of your nipples. “Mmmmm,” you hummed.

Eddie pulled back, palming your breast as he looked at you as he said, “Sure did, sweet thing. I’ve dreamt about this for a while.”

You rested your hands on his shoulders, looking him deep in his eyes before bringing a hand up to gently and softly cup his cheek, whispering, “So have I.”

He dove right in, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a full on make out session as you moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding his leather jacket and denim vest off his shoulders, his Hellfire shirt on full display.

The only time the two of you broke apart was for you to remove his shirt, his chest tattoos on full display. You looked at them, tracing over them, even though it almost caused fear in you to trace the spider tattoo.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, putting his hand over yours. “It’s just a tattoo.”

When you looked at him, he was softly smiling, which caused you to softly smile. “I know. They just creep me out.”

“I know what arachnophobia is, babe.” He smiled bigger before a small chuckle came from him causing you to roll your eyes.

Giggling, you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder. “ I know that, dork.” You slid your hands down his torso, making him breathe in a hiss before your fingers wrapped the top of his black jeans.

Eddie moved his hands to yours, bringing your hands to his belt. He never broke eye contact as he did. “Unbuckle it.”

You did as he asked, looking down to his belt, carefully undoing it and his button before sliding his zipper down.

He breathed out a deep breath, the pressure on his cock releasing a little.

Feeling brave, you decided to reach into his pants, wrapping his hardened length in your hand. “Fuck. I can barely touch my fingertips.” You chuckled, looking up at him, a look of disappointment crossing his features. “Don’t worry, babe. That’s a good thing. Means you’re big.” Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried to be seductive, which worked because Eddie sucked in a breath. “I feel like you’re being submissive.”

“Nah,” he said. “Just letting you take the reins for a moment, swee– fuck.”

Your hand moving up and down had a moan escaping Eddie’s throat, his head being thrown back.

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart. That feels amazing.”

Leaning forward, you placed your lips to his Adam’s apple, moving down his sternum and stopping where you couldn’t reach anymore before looking back up at his face, an almost fucked out look crossing his features. “You look so pretty,” you whispered.

“I’ll show you pretty,” he said, squatting to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Get ready, princess. I’m gonna rock your fucking world.”

“Wha–” you asked, before gasping as your back met the table they had just played on, Eddie’s fingers grazing your sides before traveling down to the tops of your jeans. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“What do you want, princess?” he asked, skimming his lips across your stomach down to your jeans. Looking up at you with mischievous eyes through his lashes, he smiled a little, hearing and seeing your soft breaths quicken. “Tell me what you want. Tell me where you want me.”

“Mmm, on me,” you whispered.

As he unbuttoned your jeans, he whispered, “Where?” before kissing the imprint that the button left on your skin.

Letting out a breath, you looked down at him and whispered his name, your eyes full of pleading, as well as trying to tell him something. When it finally hit him after a couple of seconds looking at you, his eyes went a little wide as he picked his head back up.

“Are you a vir–”

“No,” you shook your head, swallowing your nerves. “I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never… dirty talked before. The last guy didn’t, either. Well, with me, at least.”

Eddie nodded softly before looking back down at your skin, placing another soft to it. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, baby.” Another kiss as he unzipped your jeans. “I’ll take care of all that.”

When he tapped your outer thighs, you knew that was your queue to lift your hips, your nerves starting to show as you watched him remove your jeans, sliding them down your ankles… after sliding your shoes off, of course.

It was like he knew you wanted to close your knees, so before you could even think of doing it, he quickly placed his hands on the inner part of your knees, feeling your muscles tense. “Please don’t be shy, baby.”

He spread your legs a little further apart to slide his hands on the back part of your thighs, bringing them back around to your inner, essentially holding your thighs as he slowly dropped to his knees, bringing you further down the table.

“Tell me,” Eddie said, kissing the inner part of your knee. “Did those other guys worship you?” He watched as you shook your head, another kiss placed a little further down your thigh. “Well, shame on them, then. Because I’m gonna worship this pussy–” Kiss. “-like my life–” Kiss a little further down. “-depends on it.”

You went to say something, the words dying in your throat as a soft moan escaped your throat at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue licking a stripe up your core.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he whispered, licking another stripe, this time in between your lips. “You taste incredible.”

“Mmm, Eddie,” you whispered, bringing a hand to the top of his head, gently carding your fingers through the tendrils at the top of his head. “Right there.”

Eddie hummed, lapping at your core like a man starved. As he brought his lips to your clit, licking and sucking on it like it was his last meal, he let go of one of your thighs, bringing his fingers to your entrance. Releasing your clit, he gently rubbed it with his thumb, his fingers drawing big circles at your entrance. “You’re so wet for me,” he rasped. “I made you this wet?”

You giggled, gently scratching at his scalp. “You’re so stupid,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, licking at your clit once again. He elicited a moan from you, your tossing back at the feeling of his fingers entering you.

“Holy shit,” you all but whined. You could feel the stupid fucking smirk on his face as he pumped his fingers in and out of your core. “Oh, my god, don’t stop.”

That only egged him on further; his fingers moved faster, and it seemed like his tongue was moving faster as well. Eddie was in full concentration mode, your whimpers and moans sounding like heaven to him.

“Oh, shit,” you moaned, looking down at him, seeing nothing but the mop of brown curls you loved so fucking much. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum.”

No words. Nothing came out of his mouth but his tongue licking at your clit relentlessly.

One… two… three more licks and quick pumps of his fingers and you were gone. Gripping his hair as hard as you knew he liked from the horseplay you two would find yourselves in, you came all over his fingers, his tongue wanting a taste.

Your back arched at the feeling of his tongue inside of you as far it could reach, your taste on his tongue.

When he was sure you’d ridden through your orgasm, he kissed his way back up your stomach and sternum, his nose brushing against your chin before his lips found yours, kissing you and letting you taste yourself.

Looking all over your beautiful features when he pulled away, you licked your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, those eyes he loved so much, you hummed and whispered, “Yummy.”

“Shit, princess,” he murmured, hissing when you reached back down to his length, his member still hard as ever. “Goddamn, I can’t wait anymore.”

“Then fuck me, Eddie.” You guided him to your entrance, his hand coming up to hold yours on his length.

“I won’t be able to hold back, baby. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

Nodding your head as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek, you said, “That’s okay. Give it to me, Eds.”

He kissed you as he pushed into you without warning, a loud gasp coming from your throat, your head tossing back as far as it could on the table.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, loving the full feeling you were getting. “You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he gritted, holding back so much.

“Let go, Eddie, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Pulling his hips back, he looked down at where the two of you were connected before snapping his hips back into yours, a cry of pleasure meeting his ears.

“Fuck! Do it again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled his hips back, snapping them back with yours, repeating the motion. “You feel so fucking good, baby. It was like this pussy was made just for me.”

“Yep, whatever you say,” you replied, voice shaky from the bounces your body was taking with each thrust of Eddie’s hips. “Shit, don’t stop. Mmmm, I’m almost there.”

You went to touch your clit, a whimper escaping you at the feeling of Eddie’s finger circling your sensitive bud. “Just like that,” you breathed. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Eddie groaned. “F-fuck.”

“Cum, Eddie. Cum with me,” you cried out in pleasure.

“Are you–”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’m sure, just–” Moan. “Just cum, Eddie, just– oh, my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–” Another moan filled the air as your second orgasm shot through you, Eddie’s not far behind.

Not wanting to crush you, he rested his weight on his forearms by your head, his forehead resting on yours, both of your eyes closed and heavy breaths mingling. “That… was… amazing.”

“Sure as fuck was,” you agreed, releasing a breathy chuckle.

Eddie’s own breathy chuckle blew over your face before he sighed. Placing his lips on yours again, he took a breath through his nose before pulling slightly back with a small smack from yours lips disconnecting. “I have to pull out of you. I’m kinda growing soft here.”

Giggling, you nodded your head, saying, “Okay,” before whining at the loss of him filling you up. “I miss him already.”

“Who?”

“Your dick.”

He looked at you, confused before bursting out in laughter, your own joining him.

When the two of you were dressed and looking a little fucked out, you helped with his campaign books, carrying them with your own book and his blanket in one arm, the rest of his D&D stuff in his own arm, his free one wrapped around your shoulders, your own free arm wrapped around the middle of his back.

As the two of you walked back to his van, you couldn’t help but smile the whole time, happy that you finally got the boy you’ve been dreaming of.

“So,” Eddie said, after helping you into the passenger seat of his van. “What do you say to me getting high, and then us going to Benny’s for a bite?”

“Uhm, yes to the second as long as I meet my curfew, no to the first because you could actually get caught and I can’t have that.”

“Why not?” he asked, almost whining like a child.

“Because I just got you. I can’t risk losing you to something like weed.”

“But… it’s how I’m–”

“Able to help Wayne, and I adore you for that, but Eddie… it’s not smart to smoke and drive.”

“But - but -”

“No buts.”

Raising a brow at you, while turning his head slightly to the side, he said, “They’re for goats.”

You couldn’t help but grab onto his jacket, pulling him closer to you to press your lips against his, but not before giggling, “You’re so stupid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2: hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i should've titled this you're so stupid 'cause they said it a lot, lol. so!, just know that if you come into my inbox and ask about you're so stupid, i will be referring to this fic, lol, unless i title another fic you're so stupid.

~~~

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If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on March 29, 2024

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut

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riality-check · 11 months

Text

Eddie needs this to go perfectly.

He’s… okay, saying he’s not an anxious person would be a lie. Eddie is very acquainted with the fight or flight instinct, with the latter of those two options being far more familiar. He’s vaguely obsessive and twitchy and, frankly, puts way too much thought and time into planning one-shots, nevermind regular campaign sessions.

Majority of the time, he likes to have control of a situation. There are reasons for that, plenty of which he knows, some of which he’s gone to therapy for, and more that are on the bedroom and currently irrelevant side of things.

The relevant side of things is the guy in front of him who doesn’t have any sort of ear protection on.

Eddie should mind his business. He really should. Corroded Coffin isn’t even headlining. They’re the openers for the tour of a much bigger band that noticed them and asked if they wanted to tour with them and Archie fangirled so hard he passed out. It was a whole thing.

Still, it’s their first real tour, and Eddie is a control freak, and he needs it to be perfect, which means no one gets hurt. This random guy - probably a roadie of some sort from how he’s plugging cables into something Eddie doesn’t know the name of - not having any sort of ear protection counts as someone maybe getting hurt.

Eddie doesn’t even know him, but he can’t have that happen.

Hell, this guy’s friend has her earplugs looped around her neck on a string like Eddie does. But Hottie - yeah, he’s hot and Eddie’s queer with a healthy sex drive, get over it - has none in sight.

That’s a problem. Eddie can’t have problems, not tonight, not before the first show.

“Hey!” he calls, walking over to Hottie and his friend, who are setting up equipment away from the stage. “You gotta have something for your ears, dude!”

Hottie and his friend exchange a look that Eddie can’t make heads or tails of.

“Thanks man,” Hottie says, and that nickname applies to his voice, too. “But I’m good.”

Eddie frowns. “You need to protect your hearing.”

“Trust me,” Hottie says. “I’ve worked a lot of gigs. Never wore anything then, won’t wear anything now, probably won’t wear anything at the next one.”

Okay. It’s fine. Eddie should walk away now. He’s totally capable of walking away. It is, quite obviously, the better alternative to this circular conversation.

But Hottie is gonna hurt himself this way. Potentially really badly if it’s not a one time thing. This is a metal show, for G-d’s sake. He’ll do some serious damage over time.

Eddie needs this to go perfectly, and for things to go perfectly, he can’t be responsible for that.

“I don’t think you get it,” he says. “You’re gonna destroy your ears that way, especially if you do this for a long time. This show is gonna be really intense, hell, the whole tour is! You can get cheap shit at the hardware store, it’s better than nothing-”

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

“Trying my best but I’m not fluent, Steve,” she says. Her hands pause, and she looks down at them, confused.

Hottie - Steve - shrugs, and his hands move as he talks. “I’m not either. You were doing pretty good, though. I think. Or our mistakes just line up that well.”

“What’s the sign for reverb? It’s the last word he said.”

“No clue. You can just fingerspell it.”

“I can’t remember R.”

“How do you forget R? It’s in your name, Robin!”

The friend - Robin - throws her hands up. “You know I get it mixed up with X!”

Eddie wants to die. This is it. He’s going to melt into a puddle due to sheer embarrassment, fifteen minutes before the doors open to let in the biggest crowd Corroded Coffin has ever played for.

What a shitty way to go.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I didn’t-”

Steve cuts him off. “Normally, I can lip read enough to get the gist. But you speak too fast and trip over your words.”

Ouch. Okay.

“I do lights,” he continues. “Robin does sound. We know what we’re doing, and we don’t need you to tell us how to do our jobs, even if you mean well.”

Seriously?

Eddie should have minded his business. He knows that. But G-ddamn, that’s blunt.

He’s saved, thankfully, from digging himself into a bigger hole.

“Eddie!” Jeff hollers from the stage. “Get your ass over here!”

He turns to walk away, then turns back to Steve and Robin. “Sorry,” he says again.

He turns back around before he can see their reactions and runs back toward the stage. Intimately familiar with flight, and all that.

Shit. First night of tour, and he’s already made an enemy of the light and sound people.

And the light guy is hot.

Really hot.

And he hates Eddie.

This is gonna be a long few weeks.

Now with a continuation and a part 3!

ao3

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #corroded coffin #hoh steve harrington #jewish eddie munson #(he snuck his way in here)#rockstar eddie munson #stranger things #st #steanger things #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #gi;pe au

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abibliophobiaa · 10 months

Text

Chapter Five: One Bed

summary: you and eddie have to share a bed, and things start to take a new turn. (7k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

——

“Just a warning, these nights get loud,” Chrissy expressed, maneuvering around where you sat near the kitchen island, bouncing Melody on your thigh. “And just think, in a few months we’ll have another little girl here to add to the chaos.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned, already dreading the idea of getting her out once all was said and done. “I miss the days when we thought storks delivered babies to your front step.”

“It’ll be all worth it once she’s here.” Chrissy giggled airily at that, placing bowls of chips around the table, tutting when Melody’s hand reached out to try and grab some. “How are things going with you and Eddie? Living together, sleeping just down the hall from one another…”

“I don’t know what that look is in your eye, but it seems diabolical,” you mused, taking a sip of your water perched on the table beside you. “Him and I are friends.”

“Friends who seem very cozy as of late.”

“We’re living together and…so what if we enjoy the company of one another —” You paused as her lips curled into a devious smirk. “— not in the way you’re thinking. We just spend a lot of time together lately.”

“I think the way he dotes on you is sweet,” she said, reaching her hands out to grab Melody. Hoisted the baby up onto her hip. “You know he talked about you a bunch after Halloween. You must have made a good impression on him.” She sing-songed the latter half, a mischievous little glint in her eye that looked out of place on her sent your way.

Flashes of that night danced across your vision. Those brief introductions at the table. The way you’d spent hours talking and laughing with one another. The moment beneath the awning where you’d almost kissed. Food shopping with him. His fingers on your form as he undressed you, inside you as they drew out your pleasure, mouth hot and fervent against your own. The way he mapped your body later with his lips, how he’d lavished you with his words as he rolled you beneath him that second time, your hands tangled together in bed sheets near your head, eyes locked on yours as his hips rolled into yours.

The night was seared into your brain. Imprinted on your mind. Intimate in a way you’d reeled from, a spark different than anything you’d had with Paul — or anyone for that matter. A complete stranger, and yet something had felt so different that night. So ‘impression’ deemed too insignificant of a word to express what that night signified.

For one, it marked the beginning of something new, now nestled within, just beneath your breast.

“I just think it’s less complicated this way,” you added, glancing down at your midsection. “She’s most important. She needs both of us.”

“And what about what you want?”

“I’ve had enough run-ins with love to know it’s likely not in the cards for me,” you told her sourly.

“What if it’s just a matter of you not having met the right person?” Chrissy asked, placing Melody in her high chair. “You know, before I met Steve, I’d been dating someone else. My parents loved him. On the basketball team, town golden boy, involved in his church and charity. Perfect, by their standards. But what they didn’t know was that we fought — almost every day. He didn’t make me happy; or I thought he did, until I met Steve.”

“You never told me how you met Steve.”

“At a roller rink,” she giggled, glancing over your shoulder to where her husband and the father of your own child were drinking beers together in the living room. “He’d bumped into me. Literally crashed into me. We spent the day with me icing my head and him icing his cheek. But we talked for hours. And he was funny and sweet and charming and I just knew it was him. Right away.”

“That’s — that’s really sweet, Chrissy…”

“How does Eddie make you feel?”

And there it was. The question you’d been avoiding, because it meant admitting to the fact you simply weren’t sure. You knew you liked him, but liking him meant putting yourself in a vulnerable situation.

“We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks —”

“Time doesn’t define the importance of something, silly,” Chrissy said, dropping down onto the chair beside you. “Right now, at this very moment, how does he make you feel?”

You glanced his way. And, like he always seemed to, he had this uncanny way of knowing when you needed him. Ever present, with that seemingly constant glowing smile on his face from over Steve’s shoulder where he sat. A question burned behind his gaze, but you shook your head, and he relaxed back against the couch no longer on alert.

“Good. Heard. Seen. Cared for,” you rattled off, wanting to cover your face with your hands. Wanting to hide from the gnawing fear burning in the back of your mind over the reality of it all. “But it doesn’t matter, because what if we try and it doesn’t work and now Elena has two parents who don’t even like one another, or can’t even stand to be in the same room together?”

Chrissy curled a hand around your shoulder, those bright eyes of hers meeting yours sympathetically. “What if we imagined the reverse? What if none of that happens? You won’t know if you don’t try.”

Another time, another place, another day — those had been the words spiraling in your mind the day you left him back in his hotel room. Another person — someone who would offer him the rose-colored glasses, the giddiness of relationship, the joy of love. He was deserving of so much; the world, really.

“I’m not just saying this because he’s my husband’s best friend,” she started, voice lowering into a quieter whisper, “but he’s a good man. The best of the best. What if you opened up to the idea of…simple like? Not even love.”

What if you opened up to the idea…to simple like? Could it really even be simple? It seemed like such a juxtaposition to your current reality. Yet, the words knocked around in your head all the same, wonder already forming in the catacombs of your mind at the mere possibility.

However, before you could give it any life, the thought was disrupted by the doorbell, to be shelved away for later.

——

The arrival of the fondly named “kids” came with an air of chaos. Friends who traveled from near and far to come visit, all wrapped together in one room. Max and Lucas, on holiday here in Hawkins, now residing in California together.

Will and Mike arrived a little later, holding hands and a package of Oreos that you immediately opened and snacked on, much to their shared amusement.

El, who you had previously met, was visiting her step-brother Jonathan and Nancy in the city — the same woman you’d already contacted, thanks to Eddie’s suggestions, and were now waiting to hear back from.

Their initial reactions to finding out about Eddie being Elena’s father were met with amusing degrees of excitement and many questions — but overall, they were all over the moon for him. It made your chest ache to see him so happy, the way he proudly talked about his daughter before them all, the fondness behind his eyes as he spoke.

You remained at his side through it all, overjoyed to simply be there with them, laughing when they’d dove into a story about a time Steve, Robin and Eddie had taken the kids camping, and Eddie and Steve had the not so brilliant idea of trying to spook them before bed.

“To be fair, we were only fifteen at the time,” Mike explained from beside Will. “Which should really show you what these assholes are capable of —”

“Hey, watch what you’re about to say,” Eddie began, waving a finger in Mike’s face. “That is your mother and father you’re talking about.”

“Who’s mother?” you asked, laughing when Steve pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Steve’s mom,” Robin explained, appearing in the doorway with Vickie. “And your guy over there is dad.”

Neither of you bothered to correct Robin on that comment.

“So maybe we’d told them a little campfire story about bears in the woods before bed,” Steve started, curling his arm tighter around Chrissy’s shoulders. “What’s the problem with that?”

“Well,” Dustin interjected, leaning out of his seat from where he sat next to his soon to be bride. “Here’s the thing — we were on high alert. Started stocking up in case we needed to fight off a bear.”

“Wasn’t our fault Eddie is an idiot and started growling outside of our tent and maybe got sprayed in the eyes with hairspray,” Max said, bursting into loud giggling when Eddie cringed beside you, as if recalling the memory like it had happened moments ago instead of years ago.

“That shit hurts, okay?” Eddie grumbled, and you patted his kneecap teasingly.

“The scream he let out,” Lucas added, and the rest of the group laughed in agreement.

“I do not scream.”

“You do, man,” Steve said solemnly, earning a glare from his best friend. “It was so loud. Thought the police were gonna be called.”

“Sorry,” Eddie began, rolling his eyes, “who was it that used Farrah Fawcett spray in the first place? Because that’s where these little asshole gremlins got it.”

“Hey — it works!” Steve shouted. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“Steve, my friend, I walk out of the shower and my hair looks like this. I don’t need products to enhance what I was naturally blessed with.”

“Bet you’re doubting your decisions to procreate with him now, aren’t you?” Mike joked, flicking his gaze between the two fighting men.

But you only laughed, because you weren’t doubting it at all, but instead thoroughly enjoying yourself. Especially now as Eddie interrupted their stories meant to embarrass him and suggested they maybe start their game before it got too late and they’d have to call it a night.

Eddie on a normal day was…breathtaking, beguiling, intriguing. Different from most you’d ever encountered in all the best ways imaginable. Appreciated for all he was simply because he marched to the beat of his own drum. He loved life and enjoyed it to its fullest. He never once put on airs, tried to be anyone but his fullest self. Had accepted Eddie Munson as Eddie Munson years ago.

You’d known as much from conversations with Steve, Chrissy and Robin over dinner. Eddie’s face bright red in a blush whenever they recounted stories from their younger years. And over the span of several weeks, you’d gotten to know it for yourself as well.

Eddie was Eddie.

Perfectly, wonderfully atypical.

But seeing him like this — in his element, surrounded by his loved ones, weaving a tale that left you enraptured. Left you leaning out of your seat, as if lured by some unseen vision, his words wrapping around your heart. Your mind.

Chrissy grinned to herself at the sight. A little flash of it you’d seen, twisting those pretty pink lips. But you’d chalked it up to the fact Eddie Munson was a natural born storyteller. Inspired by the many books his mother had read to him as a young boy, even now. Even so, what a lovely thing? To be graced with it so intimately like this, to see his inward love so outwardly on display.

Later, after the campaign had wrapped up and everyone left for the evening, you sat beside Eddie in the passenger seat of his car. Regarded his face illuminated by streetlights as you passed them by. Glimmers of dark eyes, full lips, those freckles cheekbones.

Long, torturous moments passed in silence, fueled by Chrissy’s comments and insinuations. Fueled by the questioning of what would happen if only you played the tape deck forward. Would you crash and burn or take to the wind and soar? Would you risk it all for the sake of your own want, or play things safe for the needs of the third party in this increasingly complicated situation?

“Are you —”

“Can we go somewhere, Eddie?”

You’d both spoken at the same time, laughing awkwardly as you’d done so. Rushed utterances of the first things that stumbled into your minds. Eddie’s ringed fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, shifting onto the side of the road with his right blinker.

Once settling the car into park, he shifted in the seat your way, worried lines marking his forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“I just…” What did you want, though, really? “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Not quite a lie, and yet not also the full truth as to your whirring thoughts.

“Do you want to go for a walk around our neighborhood?” he suggested, turning the car back on when you’d nodded. “I know you mentioned you were having a hard time a little while back, but I didn’t realize how bad. How long has this been going on?”

“Couple of weeks,” you grumbled out, leaning your head against the window. “Doctor said insomnia is another thrilling side effect of all of this.”

“I’m sorry,” he huffed out, though it was hardly his fault at all and you both knew that, drumming his thumb along the steering wheel. “You could have told me, though. I’d have tried to help you.”

You shrugged, shifting on the seat a bit so you were facing him. Noted the determined line of his lips, his bare arms moving as he steered. “Where are you going? This isn’t the way home.”

“I’m thinking we need dessert for our walk,” he said, the turn signal clicking as you waited to make a left turn into the parking lot. “Chocolate?”

“Mmm Oreo sounds really good right about now.”

“So I have something to ask you and I know it’s kind of out of the blue and last minute and I meant to ask you beforehand but we had Steve’s today and it kind of got pushed to the side.”

“Is this why you’re buttering me up with a milkshake?”

“Maybe.” He said, a little teasing glint in his eyes, the red stop light bathing his skin in the bright glow. “Okay, so, Wayne’s place is getting work done. Something with a burst pipe and he can’t stay there for a couple of days.”

“So you want me to stay with Robin or something —”

“No, no,” he urged with a hand on your forearm. “I just need the guest room for a couple days.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded, considering. “I can sleep on the couch for a few days.”

“What? Sweetheart, no. I’m not — I’m not making my pregnant —” He paused, catching himself, swallowing thickly. “I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”

“Yeah, but I’m not taking your bed,” you argued, “so I guess we’ll have to share.”

The words spilled out in a rushed breath. You’d not even really thought about what you said until the words were already there, out in the open, exposed for the taking.

“I mean, we’re adults,” you continued, shrugging. “We can sleep in the same bed without it being weird.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding evenly, mulling over your words, “that was easy then. You’ll sleep in my bed. With me.”

And that — that had your stomach turning. Twisting in that giddy, roller coaster, butterfly type of way. The way that had your fingers curling around the edges of your seat as Eddie parked the car and rushed into the opened diner to grab the two of you your sugary treats.

He returned as your heart settled back into normal rhythm. Opened your door and thrusted your drink into the air, muttering, ‘For the lady’ with a bow that had your cheeks heating up.

It only took another few minutes to pull up in front of Eddie’s home, your door opening so you could hop out as soon as he’d shifted it into park. Tugging your hoodie tighter to your body, you walked along the sidewalk and waited as he hooked his keys onto his belt loop, locked the car, and joined you beneath the street lamp.

“After you,” he said, practically bouncing on his heels as you began your loop around the neighborhood.

“You know, there are so many stars here than back in the city,” you muttered after a while, pausing with your drink outstretched in hand, head tipped back to take in the sky. “It’s just another thing I don’t really miss about back home. I feel so much more…I don’t know, connected? To myself and those around me. Without all the hustle and bustle.”

“Never thought about that,” he breathed out, hand guiding you closer to him on the sidewalk so you wouldn’t stray too far into the road. “I guess it’s easy to take for granted when I see it all the time.”

“Did you know there are two to four hundred billion stars in just our galaxy alone?” You tilted your head over your shoulder, catching the way the moonlight illuminated Eddie’s features. “And there are something like hundreds of billions of galaxies. Fun things you pick up when you work at a high school library.”

“I did not,” he admitted, lowering his head to take you in. His eyes lingered on your face, on the lines of your lips, and you swallowed the thick knot forming in the back of your throat. “Anything else you learned while at my old high school?”

“The worst lunch days are definitely Wednesday,” you sounded off, sipping your drink, “O’Donnell always has mustard on everything while we have lunch and Elena hates it. Which means I hate it. Uhm, they definitely need a wider selection of novels, and their cataloging system could use some major work. Oh — and the vending machine near the nurse’s office has the best snacks.”

He laughed, a bright, happy sound that had you nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Sounds about right.”

“You know, tonight was actually really fun.” You tipped your drink lid into his chest, smirking slightly. “I saw a different side of you tonight.”

He followed as you trailed onward again, the sound of his shoes pounding against concrete to keep up in your ears. “A good side? Come on now, sweetheart. Can’t leave a guy hanging like that.”

Nose wrinkling, you snorted. “I liked it. You had a very…commanding presence. The kids enjoyed it, too.”

“So she likes commanding —”

“Hey —”

“Kidding, kidding.” Eddie held up a hand in surrender, waving his cup in the air with a big flourish as you halted on the sidewalk in front of him to allow him to catch up. “Honestly, I’ve been doing that for so long, it’s become something I look forward to. Back in high school I’d run the club, and that’s when I ended up meeting the guys. Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will. Took them under my wing a little bit — you know how it is, teenagers are shitty.”

“Teenagers are shitty,” you agreed, sounding a little morose. “I was lucky to have Micah at that point. So it never felt like I was alone. But those years can be isolating. I can’t imagine. I’m sure they were so happy to have you there for them.”

“Yeah, well…they’re now attached to Steve and I. Like our own little band of shithead gremlins. But we love them.”

“I can tell you do,” you said, thinking back to when Max had hugged him goodbye and he’d patted her head. Looked up at him like she’d admired him. “They love you too. The way they talk about you is really sweet.”

“Now they’re all grown up,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Which reminds me…Dustin is getting married in a week and he suggested today that I might ask you to come with me.”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye. A nervous little bounce in his step. Noticed that he’d dragged a hair along his lip, trying to hide himself from you.

A knowing smile creeped along your lips. “Like…as your date for the afternoon?”

A date — you could do a single, solitary date with a friend.

He glanced down at his feet, exhaling deeply. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

“I’ll have to buy a dress,” you said quickly, putting the poor man out of his misery, “but I’d love to.”

“Okay.” He nodded, grinning softly to himself. “Ah, awesome. Perfect. Can’t wait.”

You continued like that for a while. Simply walking beside one another, talking about anything and everything beneath the stars. Simply basking in the presence of another person as the moon glowed brightly above.

Eventually, when you’d finished your shakes, you both decided to head back to the house, but neither of you seemed keen to separate for the night.

Eddie spoke with you on your bed, your feet in his lap, his hands rubbing at your sore calves, until you started to doze off against your pillow.

Stayed with you until you finally fell asleep.

——

Wayne was on his way out of the house for the afternoon when you whirled around, Eddie’s apron tied around your waist, your sous chef beside you with his hair pulled back. You’d been working together for an hour now, making penne alla vodka that you couldn’t help but lean over and smell the sauce that was currently simmering in a pot. It should be illegal to smell so good, you thought, hip brushing Eddie’s as you moved around him to grab the shredded cheese.

Tonight was the first night of your arrangement. Sleeping beside Eddie in his bed. Platonically. No funny business to be had by any means. Sure — Wayne would be working the night shift and gone for most of the time you’d be sleeping beside Eddie, but you’d cleaned out the guest room to allow for him to sleep in there, making sure the man knew this was his home as well as yours.

Not that you’d had any say; nor could you quite pinpoint the moment when Eddie’s home had become yours too. Found yourself saying things to him in conversation when out and about from time to time, simple remarks of “let’s go home” and “oh, it’s at our place” and even the night you’d walked under the stars with Eddie, back in the car, when you’d said “this isn’t the way home.”

And even so, here you were, hosting at the place you called home with Eddie.

Weird to think how a few weeks had changed everything. Nearly twenty-three weeks along, and living with Eddie for a little over a month now.

“You two went out of your way to do all of this for me?” Wayne mused, chomping at a piece of garlic bread (that didn’t make you run for the toilet this time, luckily enough), seated across from the two of you when you all finally settled down for dinner. “Didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re going into work,” you said, offering him a grin, “we wanted to make sure you were fed.”

“Thanks little lady. Ed.” He took another bite and picked up his fork, nodding his head your way. “How is my grand baby treatin’ you?”

“Pretty much moving all the time now,” you sighed, Eddie pouring you another glass of water when yours emptied. “Eddie will have to show you her room. He did an amazing job with it.”

“I’d love to,” he agreed, clapping his nephew on the shoulder. “And thanks for letting me stay with you two. Sorry to steal your bed.”

“It’s fine, seriously!” you huffed out with an amused snort, pushing your chair back as you finished up your plate, reaching over to grab Eddie’s as well. “Do you want me to put a pot of coffee on?”

“Nah, this here is fine,” Wayne said, polishing off the rest of his plate and adding it to the plates you began running water over. “I’ll grab some when I get to work. You two have a good night now.”

As Wayne slipped out for the night, you raised the dial on the radio Eddie kept in the kitchen. An older Frank Sinatra song was playing, hands buried deep within the sink, when he’d sidled up to you and began drying the dishes you laid into the drying rack.

You hadn’t even asked him to, but it had become a routine of sorts as of late. These little things he’d do, if only to spend a little extra time with you. That foot rub last night as you watched a movie; the lingering hug in the doorway last night before bed; helping you fold laundry on laundry days; the delighted way he’d rubbed the knots out of your shoulder after work simply because he said you deserved it.

You worked in comfortable silence. Each time you finished a dish, you handed it over to Eddie, and he placed them in their proper storage places. It wasn’t long before you’d finished, and the music still played between the two of you, a soft and gentle tune that had you humming to yourself.

Neither spoke as you shut the light after leaving the kitchen. Nor as he offered you the bathroom to change, and you slipped inside the small, dimly lit room with a shaky exhale. Hands rested against your lower back, feet carrying you back and forth along the carpet, eyes catching on your reflection in the mirror.

This was stupid — wasn’t it? He’d seen you fully bare before him before, and he’d enjoyed what he’d seen. And yet, the prospect of slipping into a pair of sleep shorts and a tee shirt had your heart racing. With shaky fingers, you reached down and plucked your sweater up and off your body, pausing at the sight of your form reflected back at you.

He’d liked you before. But you wondered what he thought when he saw you now, every day feeling a little less like yourself, body a home to someone else as of late. Then again, it didn’t matter, you reminded yourself. Just because you’d developed feelings for the metalhead didn’t mean he’d felt the same.

With a deep sigh, you snatched the Corroded Coffin tee you’d plucked from your dresser and pulled it over your head, and then reached down to tug on some pale sleep shorts. Once satisfied, you finished up your normal bedtime routine and slipped back down the hall, knocking on Eddie’s bedroom door for entry.

“Come in,” he called out, and your eyes immediately zeroed in on the bare chest that greeted you near his bedside table.

He was tucking away a pair of his socks into the drawer, head turning over his shoulder, eyes widening at your appearance. You mentally cursed, feeling self conscious.

“What are you wearing?”

“A shirt,” you groaned, rushing over to your designated side of the bed, wanting to get the night over and done with.

“Why do you sound upset?” he asked, dropping down onto the bed behind you, palm coming up to curl around your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. “What did I say, sweetheart? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

He grimaced as you shoved a pillow over your head. “You just looked at me funny. I know I don’t look the way I did the night we hooked up —”

“Hey hey hey, breathe.” You groaned into your pillow, the sound muffled by Eddie’s laughter. “I looked at you ‘funny’ because there’s a ridiculously pretty woman wearing a shirt with my band’s name on it, who happens to also now be laying in my bed, okay? And remember what I said that night? You’re out of my league — that’s still true now.” He paused, feeling your shoulders relax a bit at his light hearted, if a little self deprecating, joke. “Come on, Buttercup, look at me for a second, okay?”

You rolled over in the bed, pillow falling with it, and he lowered himself down onto an elbow, running a constant and comforting line across your bicep. “Looking.”

“Just — you’re wearing that,” he repeated, toying with the hem of the shirt to stretch the logo across your chest. “The matter of my attraction to you has never changed, if anything it’s…grown because I don’t think you realize what it does to a man when he looks at the woman carrying his child, and now that same woman is laying in his bed.”

“Oh,” you squeaked out, cheeks heating rapidly. “Okay.”

“Yeah — oh, sweetheart. Wanted to make that clear, so there’s no confusion here.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, tops of his cheeks flaming red, moving over to his bathroom. Pleasure swooped low in your belly — curled, tumbled and spread it as you caught him adjusting himself in his pants on the way.

——

“Nancy sent in one of my children’s books,” you said, crawling into bed on the second night, tugging the blankets up and over your shoulders. Eddie slid in beside you, head resting on the pillow, hair spilling in a halo around him. “She said it was really good. She thinks I should hear back soon hopefully.”

“It is really good,” he reassured, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I wish you could see that. I’m so damn proud of you.”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, shuffling closer to him. “My ex, Paul, kind of — well, he didn’t think writing was something one could turn into a career. Kind of discouraged it, which is why I’d put it on the back burner for a while. It’s hard to think that it could ever turn into anything. Or it was…until I found out I was pregnant. And suddenly everything changed. I want to do the best for her, be the best for her.”

He thumbed along your bicep, offering you a soft smile as you continued, “One of the things I admire about you is how you’re just…unabashedly you. There’s only one Eddie Munson and he’s just who he is and you’re literally watching your dreams come true. It’s made me realize it can happen for me too.”

“First of all, your ex is an idiot for not encouraging your dreams. I hate how society says if it’s art you’re interested in it’s not practical and not valid. Sometimes I wish I could give a giant fuck you to all the teachers who said I wouldn’t amount to anything because I preferred music over school,” Eddie started, those umber eyes catching yours in the lamplight. “But I’m glad you’re trying because I don’t doubt for one second that you have a gift. I believe in you.”

“Can I hug you?”

“Always, Buttercup.” He shuffled even closer, his stomach pressing into yours, dark eyes glinting with vibrancy. “Looks like there’s some di —”

“Do not finish that sentence!” You laughed, shifting until you were comfortable enough, forehead pressing into the curve of his chest, arms looped tight around his waist.

His eyes softened then, lips settling into a firm line. “Look, I know — I know we didn’t plan for this to happen the way it has, but our little girl really has the best mom.”

“You really think so?” He hated the sound of your voice. The lack of confidence behind the tone. Felt his heart cleave down the middle.

“Absolutely. Why…do you doubt that?” Eddie frowned as you tugged him closer, fingers twined in the back of his shirt.

“I…my parents weren’t around much. Always too busy, too worried about other things than quality time spent with me,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m afraid when she gets here I just won’t know what to do. Won’t know what she needs when she’s crying, or how to change her diaper, or how to tell what she’s thinking. I didn’t have an example of all of that, so what if I’m terrible at it?”

“Can I be honest?” Eddie asked, tipping your chin up with a finger.

“Shoot.”

“I’ve never changed a diaper. Or been around a newborn other than Melody. Even then, I’d kind of waited until she was less fragile to hold her. I’m scared as shit, too,” he said, locking eyes with you. “So we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay.” You weren’t alone. Despite everything, you weren’t alone. Eddie and you would figure everything out as a team — two people navigating the unknown.

“Also, we can’t change how we grew up. But we can make sure we try harder for Elena to give her the best.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said, pressing your fingertips against his sternum, feeling his pulse race beneath. “Always knowing what to say.”

He chuckled, a low, raspy tired sound. “I'm flattered you think that, but I’m just figuring it out too, you know? All I know is I’ll never be the way my dad was to our daughter, and the rest I’m sure will come along with her just being here.”

He paused, glancing down to where the two of you were connected, saying, “You have me.”

“You have me too, Eddie.”

——

Tossing and turning. Eddie felt you tossing and turning all night, annoyed huffs of breath falling from your lips every time you flipped over onto the opposite side to try and get comfortable. He’d realized quickly you never did, though.

“Hey,” he whispered, testing to see if you were presently awake. A displeased groan fell from your parted lips, body flopping back over so your face was mere inches from his on your separate pillow. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m uncomfortable,” you admitted, mouth turning downward in a sour frown. “It’s not even like I’m not tired. I know I’m tired, but my mind feels all restless. And so is she.”

At that, Eddie pulled back the comforter and lowered his head to your middle, palm spreading over the hill of it. “Hey, behave in there, okay? Your mom is trying to get some sleep.” At your laughter, he shifted back onto his pillow. “Turn over.”

“What?”

“Turn over. I’ll rub your back and we can talk until you fall back asleep,” he said, immediately noticing the curve of your brow in confusion. “My mom used to do that all the time when I’d have nightmares. Figure it’ll work the same.”

“But you need sleep,” you argued, knowing he had taken an extra weekend shift tomorrow at the shop that he needed to be up early for.

“I’ll make an extra cup of coffee in the morning. Right now though, we both need sleep,” he stated plainly, “but I won’t be able to if I know you’re unable to.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled back over, hips wiggling very innocently as you got comfortable, and yet in a way that had Eddie swallowing the thick knot in the back of his throat.

The past few days, being so close, sharing a bed — he’d said it would be easy, a simply platonic situation, but he’d felt anything but. Wanted so badly so many times to lean over and kiss you, to see if he nudged that part of your neck he’d discovered on Halloween night you’d make those pretty sounds he’d strum from you over and over again.

But he knew better. Respected your wishes and boundaries. Knew he wouldn’t press the matter unless you decided you wanted to take a leap again. He’d decided it from that moment weeks ago now, where you had suggested the two of you remain friends for the sake of Elena. The ball would remain in your court; forever, if you’d decided that was what you wanted.

With a thick swallow, Eddie raised his fingers up to your trapezius muscles, fingers curling around the breadth of them, thumbs digging into the space below. At the first deep exhale from your lips, he rubbed in circles, watching as your body slowly melted into the blankets further, breathing becoming deeper.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“What’s your favorite color?” you asked, and his cheek twitched.

It became a game of sorts these few weeks. Various questions intended for getting to know one another. Either him or you would pick a question or a topic and talk. Sometimes for hours a night, simply listening to the other. Eddie could listen to you prattle on for ages — had known as much some weeks ago now.

“Red,” he said, palms sliding down the planes of your back, grin curling upward at the breathy moan that left you. “What about you?”

“I’m not really sure,” you admitted, curling your palm beneath your head. “It kind of changes every day. Lately it’s yellow, but tomorrow it might be cornflower blue.”

“Cornflower blue, huh?” he chuckled, fingers digging into your lower back.

He mentally berated himself when your hips arched backward a bit, nearly falling into the cradle of his lap. Now wasn’t quite the time to get a hard on. It had been bad enough having to slip out of bed before you woke each morning before you realized the effect you had on him — an effect that went far beyond normal morning wood.

“What is one thing you wish you spent more time doing as a child?”

Eddie paused for a moment, chewing at his bottom lip. “I…maybe I’d have taken more pictures with my mom. I’d always been an asshole when she tried, especially when I got older. They always came out so blurry. The few pictures left of her I have are like that.”

Your fingers reached backward to circle his wrist, pausing him in his movements. “I’d like to see them sometime.”

“Definitely,” he promised, resuming his massage. “What about you?”

“Mmm, reading more books, probably. Funny, seeing as I’ve worked in a library setting for a few years now.” Your head turned over your shoulder. Eddie’s breath hitched at the softness behind your eyes. “If you could become a superhero, how would you like it to happen? Like…what’s your origin story. I feel like I’d want to have, I don’t know, realized I was impervious to fire or something. Would be pretty cool.”

“Easy,” Eddie said, mouth tipping into a smirk, “I plug into my amp, get a little electrocuted, get electric powers.”

“A true rock god.” You giggled, and it sounded like wind through the chimes you'd installed on the front porch. A swift punch to his gut, a hand wrapped tight around his heart.

You continued like that for another half hour. His fingers dragging long lines over your back, your eyes closed as you tossed question after question into the open air. Eventually, you began to drift. Body pulled further and further into an oncoming rest, yawns spilling from your gently parted lips.

For a while, you remained silent, and Eddie wondered if you’d fallen asleep. But you flipped over to face him, closer now than you had been before, and curled your palm beside your face. Close enough he could reach over and brush his lips along your every knuckle. Wanted to, he realized.

“If you could change that night. Halloween. Would you?”

He watched the worry as it crossed along your features, the fear over his answer to your question plaguing your mind. The question you’d been building up to with all the lighter ones. Exhaling deeply, he reached over and brushed his fingers along the back of your hand, head shaking slowly.

“No, because I’d have never met you. And with Elena, it’s not what we planned, sure. But…in getting to know you, I care about you so damn much, Buttercup. I like waking up to you humming in front of the coffee pot, waiting for it to finish brewing. Or when you yell at me for tossing something colored into the whites. I like cooking with you in the kitchen and I even like our couch talks when I rub your damn feet.” Your eyes, glittering with unshed tears, flickered up to his face, and he brushed the moisture collecting there from your bottom lash line. “You’re one of the most important people in my life now, I hope you realize.”

“You’re one of the most important people in mine,” you whispered back, lacing your fingers with his. “I think the massage worked, by the way.”

He smiled, watching your eyes start to droop a bit. “Tired?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, fingers tightening in his.

A long sigh spilled from you, eyes shutting, and he immediately missed the sight of them. The glow of your irises in the dark, uniquely yours, and strikingly beautiful. Gentle fingers lifted to run along your cheek, your breathing starting to even out a bit, becoming deeper with every passing second.

“Can I ask you one more question?” It was spoken quietly, so softly Eddie had almost nodded off himself when you’d finally asked.

“Anytime.”

“Can you hold me?”

Hesitant, you sounded so hesitant, fear of rejection evident in your voice. Another reason why he hated Paul. Because you’d deserved the world and he’d gone and taken advantage of your heart.

“Always,” he reassured, heart racing as you rolled over and shifted backward a bit, his own body coming to rest along your spine. Like this, your backside rested in the cradle of his hips, your head rested along his bicep tucked beneath a pillow, and his arm swooped low around your belly. “Is this good?”

He ached with the warmth of it. With the way you leaned down and nuzzled your head further into his arm, the way your body fitted perfectly against his, how you felt so relaxed and comforted by simply being near him. Beautiful. You were so damn beautiful, like a fucking angel in his arms, and he realized how lucky he was.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whispered.

With you in his arms, his hand splayed over where his daughter grew, he realized what he really held in that bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered back, dropping the softest of kisses to your temple.

His family — not the one he’d been born with, and maybe not the perfected image of one, but family all the same.

He’d never take that for granted.

——

please let me know what you think. it quite literally makes my day, as well as other creatives, so just throwing that out there. i also have just loved talking to you all every week. it’s been the best. also, stay tuned for next week, with chapter six titled ‘the date.’ getting closer to the end here. 🩷🥹

#daylight!eddie #lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #dad!eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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megxplryxb · 1 year

Text

Roommate Romance

Pairings: Roommate!Steve x Reader

Notes: Apologies for the long delay, I've had some personal stuff going on lately so thank you all for sticking with me! <3

Disclaimer: Not my gif

It was a little after 9pm on an uneventful Saturday evening, Steve was lying across the shoddy leather couch in the small but cosy living room in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants he had put on after his shower. He groaned in frustration as he flicked through the channels trying to find something interesting to watch, having long given up on reading some boring ass book that Eddie had given him when he heard a key turn in the door of the apartment he shared with you and Robin.

The latter had left to stay in Vickie’s house twenty minutes ago but Steve assumed Robin had forgotten something and come back for it 'cause he wasn't expecting you home for another couple of hours at least. He flinched a little when he heard the door open and close with a louder than usual bang, hearing heels click through the hallway and towards the kitchen. He knew it was you immediately, the scent of your jasmine perfume filling his nostrils as he pushed himself up from the couch to follow you down the hallway to make sure everything was alright, noting he hadn't heard a second pair of feet follow you inside.

Earlier at the video store, Robin had told Steve about a date you were going on that evening with a guy you’d met while waitressing at Enzo’s during the week. Steve had tried his best to hide his jealousy when Robin began to describe the guy, tuning out her ramblings once she mentioned that he was a “total babe”. She knew that Steve had a crush on you, noticing his attempts to flirt with you on a regular basis but she had made him promise that he wouldn't make a move on you, because she didn't want things to get awkward with you all living under the same roof. But fuck, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to bend the rules from time to time and sometimes, he even thought that was exactly what you wanted him to do too.

Steve leaned his shoulder against the doorway of the small, compact, kitchen, watching as you unsuccessfully reached for a wineglass on the top shelf of the cupboard over the sink. He bit on the corner of his lip as your tiny black dress lifted ever so slightly, about to reveal parts of you that he knew he shouldn't be staring at and if he didn't look away now, he didn't know how he would explain the tent growing in his pants when you eventually turned to face him.

"Need a hand?" He smirked, as you let out a small yelp, not expecting Steve to be home already and definitely not expecting to see him standing there in just his sweatpants.

"Jesus Christ, Steve! You almost gave me a heart attack!" You pant, placing a hand across your chest, trying to look away from his bare chest.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. God princess, you're in heels and you still can't reach." He teased as you shot him a glare.

"No shit Sherlock, are you going to help or just stand there staring at me?" You questioned, rolling your eyes at the boy.

"I mean honestly, it's a pretty good view." Steve flirted, while you began to feel the heat rush to your face, hoping you had enough make up on to cover your flushed cheeks.

"Will you just quit being a perv and help me already?"

"A please would be nice." He replied, still smirking at you.

"Harrington, I swear to god..."

"What? It's just one little word, it's not even that hard to say." Steve laughed, knowing he was getting under your skin and you were in no mood for his jokes.

"Forget it, I'll get it myself." You stated, turning back to the sink, one knee on the counter top as you began to pull yourself up.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing, are you trying to break your damn ankle?" Steve entered the kitchen, his hands rushing to grab your waist and pull you back down again.

"STEVE!"

"Relax sweetheart, I got it.” He whispered, setting you down, moving behind you, one hand on your shoulder, his toned chest pressing lightly against your back and you prayed he didn't feel the shiver that went all the way down your spine as he reached up for the glass. You had to remind yourself to breath with the feeling of him so close to you, his skin touching yours. You could smell his cologne, the shampoo from his still damp hair and his usual boyish scent that was nothing other than Steve.

"All yours princess, you're welcome by the way." Steve teased, finally handing you the wineglass as your lips pulled in to a smile. You secretly wondered if he knew the effect he had on you, cause you just couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Not when he looked like that, staring at you like he was challenging you to make the next move.

"Why are you home anyway, weren't you working tonight?" You asked, shaking your thoughts away, leaning against the counter, letting out an instant sigh of relief once you removed the heels you'd been wearing all evening. Steve swallowed hard hearing the little moan of pleasure fall from your mouth with the feeling of the cold tiles under your sore feet as you tossed the shoes in the corner.

"Uh, Keith let me go early, the store was pretty dead." He answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That doesn't sound like Keith." You replied confused, knowing Keith wasn't that nice of a boss.

"Well, it might have had something to do with the new porno movies being delivered to the store tonight. Think he wanted first dibs." He chuckled as you scrunched your nose in disgust. “Yeah, that sounds more like Keith."

"Anyways, wasn't expecting you home for a while either, Robin mentioned you had a hot date tonight." Steve teased, folding his arms as you let out a sarcastic laugh, moving by him to take a bottle of wine from the fridge.

"Yeah, I thought so too. Turns out, not so hot." You reveal, pouring yourself a drink, taking a quick sip as Steve kept his eyes on you. Selfishly, he was glad that your date turned out to be a bust, because the thought of you being out with some guy that wasn't him had been driving Steve crazy all evening.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked, before you walked back to the fridge grabbing a beer and offering it to him. "Wanna get a little drunk first?"

"Y..yeah, sure." He nodded, trying to take the bottle from your hand but you pulled it back, smirking at your friend. "Not so fast Harrington, go put on a shirt, then you can have this."

"Why, am I distracting you, princess?" Steve winked, heading to his room, throwing on the first t-shirt he could find before following you towards the living room.

Of course he was distracting you and you cursed Robin for making you promise never to cross that line with her best friend all those months ago when you decided to live together. You liked Steve, a lot, more than Robin even realised. He was everything you'd usually look for in a boyfriend and more but since nothing could ever happen between you, you'd made it your mission to find someone else and forget about Steve Harrington. That turned out to be easier said that done when he walked around shirtless on a daily basis.

An hour had passed and you and Steve were finally starting to feel the effects of the alcohol you had been consuming. When you couldn’t decide on a movie to watch, he played some music from the pretty expensive stereo his parents had given him as a house warming gift when he moved out. Steve was slouched on one side of the little couch while you occupied the other half, lying length ways so your feet were slumped across his legs, a pillow resting on your tummy for comfort, still wearing your dress.

It was nice to have a night with just Steve, it was never just the two of you with Robin, Vickie, Eddie or the kids usually hanging out with you both too.

“So come on, tell me, what happened with your date?” Steve asked, bringing the beer bottle to his lips as you groaned.

"I don't think I'm drunk enough yet." You muttered, pouring more wine in to your glass.

"Was it really that bad?" He asked as he watched your face change. "It was worse than bad, Steve."

"Worse than Cassie Peterson throwing up on me in the movie theatre?" He questioned as you widened your eyes in shock, almost spitting out your wine. "Oh my god! You never told me that?"

"I didn't tell anybody! It was so embarrassing, the whole place was staring at us." He explained as you laughed out loud.

"Is that why you never called her again? Robin was dying to know what happened between you." You teased as he began to explain himself, running a hand through his brown locks.

"She ruined my favourite sweater! Of course I never called her again.” Steve responded, taking a swig from his bottle of beer.

"It's not like she meant to throw up on you, Steve. I bet she felt way worse about it than you did." You giggled at your friend's childish behaviour.

"Hey, I was a total gentleman. I got her some water, made sure she got home safe, all while stinking of vomit I might add! I could've just left her there, I mean she literally barfed all over me." He joked but you knew Steve would never actually do that to anyone.

"She must have been mortified!" You cringed, placing a hand over your face from second hand embarrassment.

"Oh that wasn't even the worst part, she actually leaned in for me to kiss her goodnight when I dropped her home!" Steve revealed as you tried hard not to gag.

"Oh Steve, please tell me you didn't..."

"Of course I didn't! I lied and told her I had a coldsore, then ran back to my car." He chuckled, opening another beer as you threw your head back in hysterics. "Wow, I feel sooo much better about my date now.” You sighed, sipping your wine.

"I swear to Christ if you ever tell Robin that story, I’ll never give you a ride to work again.” Steve threatened, smiling at you.

“I cross my heart Harrington, I’ll take it to the grave with me.” You say sweetly as he rolls his eyes. “Please, we both know you’re gonna tell Robin the minute she walks in that door tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You smile as he shakes his head.

"Anyways princess, enough about my horrible dating life, time to hear about yours.” Steve clapped, while you sat up on the couch, pulling your legs under you, taking a deep breath.

“Ok, so I met him a couple of days ago in work, he came in to pick up lunch for his Boss and he seemed totally nice, y'know? Very handsome, good dresser, nice hair..." You said as Steve began to cough, looking overly offended. "Not as nice as yours Steve, don't worry." You reassured, patting his head.

"Just making sure, princess."

"Anyway, we got talking, flirted a little and he eventually asked if he could take me to dinner. So he picked me up for our date here, gave me a bunch of flowers, opened the car door….”

"So far, he sounds like a real asshole." Steve smirked sarcastically, before pressing his lips to the bottle of beer.

"Guess where he took me for dinner?” You said as Steve tried to read your face. “I dunno, some fancy restaurant with valet parking?”

“He took me to Enzo's, Steve, the place I work five days a week, on my day off!" You whine as Steve started to chuckle at your reaction.

"Maybe he was trying to be nice y'know? Like, maybe he thought you'd feel safer going there with him because you didn't know him and....”

"He took me there because he thought they'd give us a discount." You interrupted, folding your arms. "Did they?" Steve asked as you shook your head.

"Of course not, it wasn't expensive anyway, we didn't even make it past the appetisers." You revealed, drinking the last of the wine in your glass.

"He was just that irresistible, huh?" Steve joked as you playfully nudged him with your foot.

"Totally, I just couldn't wait to rip his clothes off. All that discount talk was too much of a turn on.” You gagged, sticking your tongue out.

“It could’ve been worse…” Steve stated as you wagged your finger at him. “Oh it was, I’m not done yet.” You giggled, pouring more wine in to your glass.

“This elderly couple came in a couple of minutes after us and his whole demeanour changed when he saw them.”

“Parents? Oh Jesus, did they join you for dinner or somethin’?” Steve questioned as you placed a hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking again.

“They weren’t his parent’s. They were his parent’s neighbours and when the lady came over to say hello to him, he introduced me as a work colleague.”

“That’s weird.” Steve said, raising a brow.

“Right? So, I asked him why he said that and he said that she likes to gossip and he’s very private, I accepted that, I’m pretty private too. But then! He left the table to go to use the restroom and the lady came over again and….”

“Did she want a discount too?” The boy joked as you threw a pillow at his face. “Steve! I’m trying to finish my story!” You hiccuped as he held his hands up, holding back another laugh. “I’m sorry, go ahead princess, tell me what happened.”

“She asked me if I was really his work colleague so, I said no because obviously something weird was going on right? Then she told me that he’s already in a relationship and had only proposed to the poor girl two months ago!” You revealed, watching the shock form on Steve’s face.

“You’re fucking kidding me?” He said as you shook your head. “I’m totally serious.”

“What did you do?” Steve asked, hanging on to your every word. His blood starting boil as you continued your story, all his instincts telling him to go find the guy and kick his ass.

“I thanked her for telling me, ordered them an expensive bottle of champagne and told the guys to charge that asshole for it!” You smiled proudly. “Man, what a creep! How did he think he was going to get away with something like that in a small town like this?"

“Honestly, I have no idea. He even came after me, telling me we could finish the date somewhere else!” You shivered as Steve scoffed in disbelief.

"Why didn't you call me to come pick you up?" He asked, looking at you a little more seriously than he had been all night. “I thought you were working.” You shrugged, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You could’ve called the store, you know I would have come for you, right?” Steve says softly, placing his warm hand on your knee while you nod your head. “I know you would have, Steve." You blush, noticing that he hadn't moved his hand away, still looking at you intently.

"Anyways, cheers to no more bad dates!" You tease, raising the almost empty wine glass to clink with Steve's bottle as he lets out a small chuckle. "Honestly, I don't think I could handle going on any more bad dates.”

"We should totally make a pact, you know, like if we're both still single by the time we're thirty five, we'll just marry each other!" You jokingly suggest as Steve shakes his head.

"Thirty five huh? That's over a decade away sweetheart..." He huffs.

"So?" You laugh, shrugging your shoulders.

"So, that's a lot of sex to be missing out on having with you." The boy admits, eyes widening when he realises what he's just said.

"Oh really? And what makes you think I'd have sex with you?" You challenge, raising a brow at the boy who smirks confidently at you.

"Well theoretically speaking princess, you'd be my wife, so I'd kind of hope that if you were having sex with anybody, It'd be with me."

"You're so cocky sometimes, you know that?" You roll your eyes as he finishes the end of the bottle. "Come on princess, like you never thought about it before." Steve teases as your cheeks begin to flush.

"Thought about what?" You question trying to play dumb. You knew exactly what he meant.

"Us." He answers, eyes completely focused on your reaction.

"I can't say I have." You lie and Steve knows it , because he moves closer to your side of the couch, brushing strands of hair out of your face and he swears he hears a little whimper from you when he touches your cheek.

"So, if I said I wanted to kiss you right now would you let me? Cause I'm not sure I can wait until I'm thirty five for something to happen between us." Steve whispers as you clench your thighs, biting on your bottom lip.

"Steve we can't, I want to, I do, but I promised Robin I..."

"She made you promise too huh?" He smirks as you nodded a yes. "She said she didn't want things to get complicated." You whine while Steve presses his forehead to yours, pulling you in to his lap.

"Sweetheart, I think we're already there, don't you?"

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington angst #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #king steve #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #stranger things smut #steve stranger things #stranger things

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takenbypeter · 1 year

Text

When Symbiote Meets Symbiote

Eddie Brock x reader

Words:1283

Author’s note: This isn’t exactly like the request there could be more arguing but I’ve been trying to write this for awhile and this is all i got and I’m tired of thinking about how to make this better so this is is it

Requested by anonymous: Obsessed with the thought of Eddie running into someone else with a symbiote, n y know they're alike in the sense that their symbiote is... well they're not as murder happy as Carnage n such, Problem is that Y/N's symbiote doesn't know that Venom isn't really a threat to their host, and Venom doesn't know S/N isn't a threat to him

It was one of those late nights…you know the kind.

Those kind of nights were only the overhead streetlights guided your footsteps and cars zoomed by despite how dark it was out. The kind that had some people clutching their purses, while others walked around with hoods over their heads while minding their own business.

You were a part of the latter, having to run a small sort of errand so late and were just about on your way home.

The past you would’ve been terrified roaming the streets but the present you? The present you, was just fine with it.

The present you had no fear.

Okay not no fear but let’s say less fear, but anyone with your…”condition” would feel the same.

Suddenly feeling a cold rush of wind against your face you felt the dryness of your lips starting to irritate you. Pulling out your teeny tiny chapstick, you yank the top off. Pulling it a little too hard, it drops and rolls down the sidewalk. Despite knowing you’re not going to use that again, you still refused to litter and you followed after it.

With a bend at the knees you reached for the small object but became easily distracted at the sound of the sudden thrashing you heard coming from the alleyway right beside you.

Then, you heard some yelling. Curiosity quickly took over you, you stood there wondering if you should go and help, or you should instead just go about your day and mind your own business.

The latter was always, always so tempting.

“What to do? What to do?” You whispered under your breath before you heard the familiar voice.

“Let’s go check it out! Might get some brains out of it!”

You rolled your eyes at the clear excitement in your symbiote’s voice.

Creeping closer to the chaos your eyes quickly turn attention to the shadow that’s illuminated on the wall across from you.

You didn’t know what you were looking at.

All you knew was that it was huge.

The shadow appeared to be some huge bodybuilder type, and in his grip looked to be a body.

You watched in slight horror as the giant mass of shadow’s mouth seemed to split open before it ate the small body’s head clean off.

Now, having lived with a symbiote yourself for some time now, this seemed like very very familiar behavior, you in fact have eaten a couple heads yourself. But not once have you met or even seen another symbiote.

“Oh my god is that—?”

“A symbiote.”

After seeing what you just saw you’re not sure how to react, but your symbiote, Abyss does, “we can take ‘em.”

You knew you had a very tight knit bond with Abyss, therefore making you very powerful together, however you weren’t so sure about this.

“Wait, let’s just see what were up against first,” you suggested.

“Our bond is so strong, we‘re more than half as powerful as I am on my planet. Let’s go now while they’re distracted.”

“Okay wait let's just…wait.”

Despite feeling different about the situation than you, Abyss listens and you try to figure out what was going on, as you did your best to creep along the wall discreetly, until you’re standing behind the black symbiote. Before you could get “geared up,” as you might call it, you see the body in its hand fall and the black ooze slowly seems to disappear inside of someone revealing a rather normal looking man.

You let out an, “oh my god,” not as discreetly as you probably should have, because the man turns around spotting you.

He doesn’t have much time to react because soon the dark purple color of your own symbiote begins to surround you, covering every inch of your body until you’re fully concealed.

The man is clearly confused at what he sees before him. “Who the hel—“

Before the man can finish that question Abyss’ purple material goes out practically body slamming him onto the wall.

Inside your jaw drops, “you didn’t even let him finish,” you felt like he at least deserved that.

You watch as the poor man struggles to get up, using the wall as a helper, “wait, I just wanna—“ another slam against the wall, this time a double hit and you almost feel sorry for the guy who seemed to pose no actual threat.

It seems like Abyss may have thrown one too many punches because a new voice, a deep and raspy one shouts, “that’s it,” before the man becomes engulfed in the deep black-like material once again.

You really didn’t want to fight the guy, but thanks to Abyss it seemed like you no longer had the choice.

“I’ll eat you up and spit you out for breakfast,” said Abyss, clearly taking a line from one of the many wrestling matches that you‘even heard before.

You didn’t even have a chance to hold back Abyss because soon, the two symbiotes were practically tearing each other apart. Hitting each other left and right, uppercuts, pinning each other to the walls, it was almost an evenly met match.

It came to the point where they were pushing each other, hand gripping hand, and you couldn’t help but wonder, why you were even fighting this guy in the first place?

While Abyss and this random symbiote were screaming in each others faces, you fought to have your face revealed, and you managed to get out, “time out, time out. Can we all just time out and talk?”

It was a stretch simply asking for that while the two were at each others throats and clearly the symbiote across from you didn’t favor the idea.

“Ha you must be joking if you think—“

“V,” came a voice as the man’s face pulled through, “V come on, they just want to talk.”

A second passes by and the symbiote he called, “V” growls.

Taking this as a sign of hesitant agreement, you announce, “okay we’re backing down,” and although not on board with this, Abyss let’s go.

V doesn’t even let a moment pass before leaping and taking the opportunity to pin you by the throat. But before it can do any harm you hear the man shouting for it to let go and after struggling for a moment it lets go.

You grapple to collect your breath, as the two argued against the opposite wall.

“Venom, what the hell was that?”

“What? I thought it was a trick. How was I supposed to trust them? They tried to kill us first.”

Venom wasn’t the only one who was upset as you heard Abyss mumbling, “they’re distracted, why don’t we attack now and get it over with, they shouldn’t be here,” Abyss suggested.

“No Abyss, we’re just going to talk and figure everything out.”

Abyss, not really caring anymore, falls away flowing back into your veins and your skin. While the other two continue their dispute.

“Venom we’ll just talk, not everything has to be fought its way out.”

“Because bad people love talking so much.”

“How are we supposed to know if they’re bad if we don’t talk to them?”

“Don’t come to me when you’re lying in a ditch, I can just find another body to occupy anyway.”

“You know that’s not true.”

You almost don’t want to interrupt with how intense they were going back and forth but the man sensed you behind him, which interrupted their talk. Turning to you just human to human now, he asks, “do you want to get hot chocolate?”

And there’s really nothing else for you to say except, “I would love to get hot chocolate.”

#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock imagine #venom x reader #venom imagine #venom fanfiction #venom fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #requests #request

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serasvictoria · 8 months

Text

Title: The Hair

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve returns from a roadtrip with Eddie with longer hair than usual and it really, really works for you.

Word Count: 8849

Content warning: 18+ only. Minors dni. Smut. Oral sex (f receiving). Vaginal fingering. Hair pulling (that one's a given). Swearing. Teasing. Overstimulation. Masturbation (m receiving). Nicknames (not a Y/N in sight). Reader is kinda shy at times, because you know… Steve.

Notes: This fic has been based entirely on those pictures of Joe in Finalmente L'Alba. You know the ones that I’m talking about.

Beta read by @adrille88 ❤️ Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Robin’s cackle could be heard throughout the room. One hour in and she still thought that it was the funniest thing that she had ever seen.

“Yeah, Robs, I know.” Even though you couldn’t see Steve’s face from this angle, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I can’t help it.” She collapses into another fit of giggles and slumps into Vickie’s side. “It’s just so long.”

And it was. Steve’s hair had gotten significantly longer during his time away and it had been the first thing that everyone present had commented on when they saw him during this little “welcome back” celebration.

Steve and Eddie had gone on a road trip when the latter had finally graduated, a small celebration for the boy who had ventured past state lines only once before when he had gone to Chicago, and they’d been gone for almost three months.

They kept in touch through postcards, most of which were stuck to Robin and Chrissy’s fridge with some of the ugliest kitschy magnets that you had ever seen, but none of the hastily scribbled messages on the cards ever mentioned anything about Steve’s current hair situation.

“Getting a haircut wasn’t that important,” Steve sighed, “but Jesus, I’ll get it done tomorrow if you keep acting like this.”

A harsh noise, a gasp of alarm, escapes from your lips and you don’t even notice that you’ve done it until you see that several eyes are on you. You try to save face by shrugging and turning your head away from Steve’s luscious locks, but when Eddie sniggers loudly you know that you had failed to make your small outburst look like it was nothing.

“Okay,” Robin says, eyebrows arched with obvious amusement. “Yeah, I guess you could do that, Stevie, but maybe hold off on it for a while? It might grow on me.”

“As long as you stop pulling my hair,” he mumbles under his breath, “it stopped being funny about an hour ago.”

“Yeah, to you,” Robin counters. “But not to me.”

Her hand reaches for his hair again, already grinning, not being particularly subtle about her intentions. Steve jerks away from her and suddenly they’re caught in something that would look like a minor scuffle to outsiders, but everyone that’s present knows that it’s more akin to a playful round of roughhousing between siblings.

“Careful, careful!” Chrissy calls out when they narrowly miss the second hand coffee table, almost spilling the drinks and snacks all over the floor. “It’s not like we can replace stuff if you guys break it.”

“Yeah, you ruffians, break it up.” Eddie materializes between the duo, coming to Chrissy’s rescue and making a T-shape with his hands to signify a time-out. Robin still manages to reach around him to give one final yank on Steve’s hair. “Fuck’s sake, Buckley. Don’t break the serious sanctity of the time-out.”

Robin barks out a laugh. “Oh, is that what it was? Thought that was the T of… the T of…”

While Robin was grappling to come up with a word that began with the letter T that could be applied to the current situation, you slipped into the small kitchen.

Maybe you would do better if you gave yourself a little time out from Steve’s, quite frankly mesmerizing, long hair.

It has been a few years since you had been this preoccupied with his hair. It was the main topic of conversation in high school after all, a source of desire and yes, envy for some, as well. Because a boy with hair that great? There were many girls that would have killed to have the same amount of volume and texture.

You were safely tucked into the desire camp however. How could you not be? Steve was gorgeous.

Is gorgeous.

There‘s no denying the fact that that stupid teenage crush that you had on him is still present. The only difference now is that your long friendship with Vickie has brought you a lot closer to Steve than you had ever been before.

When you hear movement behind you, you think that it’s her at first, coming to find you to gush about something funny that Robin had done or said in private, but when you hear someone who is distinctly male clear their throat instead, you realize that you have no such luck.

“What are you hiding out in here for?”

Your eyes go wide as saucers when you turn to face him and Steve actually holds his hands up in an attempt to look less threatening, making you aware of the fact that you must look terrified.

“N-nothing.” Your reaction was more down to being in extremely close vicinity to him, because of the size of the kitchen. There was barely any space between you already and he was only standing in the doorway. “It was just… a bit crowded?” You frown, because that wasn’t the word that you were looking for. “I mean, that’s not exactly what I-“

“Rowdy?” Steve offers up helpfully.

“Yes!” Your exclamation makes you cover your mouth with your hand, shocking yourself with your small outburst, and when Steve laughs, you can feel your cheeks heat up from the potential embarrassment. “But a fun rowdy? If that makes sense?”

“A bit,” he admits. “That’s just what me and Robin are like. We bring it out in each other I guess and the hair definitely doesn’t help.”

“N-no,” you stutter as your attention is brought to his hair once more and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip as you stare. “It’s definitely distracting.” You try to stop there, really you do, but you still end up blurting out, “In a good way.”

Groaning softly, you attempt to cover your entire face with your hand. If the ground could swallow you up right this instance that would be great. Naturally, that doesn’t happen, but when you peek through your fingers, you see that Steve hasn’t left. He’s merely standing there, arms crossed in front of his chest and his head is tilted to the side, his brow pensive as if he’s deep in thought.

Clearing your throat, you shake your head as if you could shake off the awkwardness from moments before. Your eyes dart to Steve’s hair again and his gaze turns more curious when he notices.

“Okay,” he finally says with raised eyebrows. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“You,” he counters swiftly and you can see his brow furrow. He looks like he wants to slap himself. “I mean, your response. It’s pretty telling, you know.” Getting called out on your obvious attraction to him wasn’t something that you had been expecting, yet here you were, and Steve doesn’t look disgusted. If anything, he almost looks more interested. “And don’t try to deny it, I’m not an idiot.”

“Never thought you were.”

Sometimes people liked to point out Steve’s lack of intelligence, even back in high school because he didn’t really excel academically. The prevailing image of him being a dumb jock was ridiculous anyway. His grades were alright. Not top of the class, but he wasn’t at the bottom either.

They were above average most of the time, but when his grades dropped after Nancy broke up with him, everyone seemed to treat it as confirmation of what people had been saying behind his back all along. He still managed to pick himself up when exams rolled along, but it hadn’t helped sway opinion much.

It was an opinion that you did not share however.

Steve was smart. The information that interested him was just different. A conversation that he had with Lucas Sinclair on sports earlier only confirmed it.

Batting averages rolled off his tongue like they were nothing, even going as far as remembering what Wade Boggs’ average was back in ‘82. Name a Major League player and Steve would know exactly why he was better or worse than another player.

Same thing for basketball and ice hockey. You had even overheard him talking about volleyball once. Technically, it was women’s beach volleyball, but it still counted.

The only sports that Steve didn’t seem to care for were soccer and lacrosse. You highly suspected that the only reason that he didn’t like lacrosse was because his dad used to play it in college, apparently. That was a nice little piece of information that you had gained from Robin in Steve’s absence.

“True,” he smiles. “Don’t recall you ever saying anything about that.”

How he would know that was anybody’s guess, seeing how you must have been nothing more than another face in the school hallways, but you don’t question it. For a couple of seconds you even find yourself believing that he would have noticed you, however impossible that may seem.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Steve,” you smile back. The awkwardness has finally settled. Maybe you can actually be normal around him for once. “Anyway.” You turn back to the cans and bottles on the counter and make a sweeping gesture with your arm. “What’s your poison?”

“Think I’ll have-“

Steve treats your question as permission to step into the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat, when he leans in closer, making you turn the front of your body to the counter.

He eagerly takes advantage of this and puts his hand on your lower back. You feel his hand slide down, can feel his fingers flex as they settle right above the curve of your ass. His face comes into view next to you and he keeps his eyes on yours as his right hand reaches towards the cans blindly.

“-this one.”

“Apple Slice?” Tearing his eyes away from your face to look at the can that he was holding, his expression flashes to one of brief disappointment, which makes you snort in obvious amusement. He was clearly going for one of the cans of Blue Ribbon behind it, but that was not what he ended up with. You stifle a laugh and add, “Wow. Didn’t know you liked that stuff.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Steve opens the can and takes a sip, deciding to stick with his (accidental) choice. If it wasn’t for the fact that his nose crinkled in disgust, you might even have believed him. “I drink it all the time.”

“Sure you do.” You take the can of beer that he had his eye on and hold it out to him. “I’ll trade you.”

“Nah, I’ll pass.” He leans against the counter right next to where you’re standing. “I love this stuff, everybody knows that.”

“Sure they do,” you laugh. “That’s why you’ve been drinking it all night.”

“How would you even know what I’ve been drinking? You been keeping an eye on me?”

“What?” Your cheeks suddenly feel so hot that you swear that they’ve just caught fire. You hold the can against your cheek in the hopes of cooling yourself down, but the can’s lukewarm so it doesn’t help one bit. “No! Wh-why would I- I was just assuming, okay?”

The implication of his words were to poke fun at you, but you panicked all the same. You know what you wanted it to be, but there was no chance in hell that Steve Harrington was flirting with you.

No way. Impossible.

“Relax,” he replies, his voice softer suddenly as if he was doing his utmost not to spook you. “I was joking.”

You breathe a sigh of relief when he confirms it, calm setting in once more. Who knew that talking to Steve could have this effect on you. You would have liked to have been able to display a much cooler aura, but that persona seemed to have jumped out of you and ran for the hills the second that Steve came closer to you.

Not that you had ever been like that at all, but still.

“Do you want this or not?” you blurt out and you hold the can up just in case he thought that you were offering up something else. “Last chance.”

“Fine.” Steve takes it this time, your fingers brushing together when he trades cans with you. “But only because you were desperate.”

“I’m not-“ When Steve stifles a laugh, you turn your head in the opposite direction and find yourself staring at a grocery list that’s hanging on the old fridge. “Not funny.”

“Oh, come on. I couldn’t help myself, you’re real cute when you’re flustered.” You turn your entire body away from him, but you’re only doing it to hide your growing smile from him. “Seriously? You’re not talking to me?” You shake your head and he lets out a soft groan. “I was willing to give you my best puppy dog eyes, too.”

“Y-you were?”

“She speaks! But yes, I was.” You chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from saying anything, because you don’t want to seem too eager. “In fact, I’m still going to do it. I think that you’ve earned it.”

When you finally turn around to face him once more, you’re subjected to the full force of his hazel eyes (looking every bit like he’d gotten private lessons from doe-eyed Eddie Munson), and his bottom lip is pushed out into a pout. He looks silly and adorable all at once.

“You look ridiculous,” you giggle. “Stop doing that.”

“No way,” he says with a smirk. “I can keep this up all night if I have to.”

“Really?” The prospect of being subjected to it all night makes your heart swell about three sizes inside your chest. “I’d like to see you try.”

Steve bats his eyelashes in quick succession a couple of times until you’re laughing and you swat at his chest in an attempt to make him stop. He instantly makes a grab for your hand and keeps it pressed against his sternum.

The distance between the two of you closes somewhat, but Steve still leaves some space on the off chance that you might want to pull away.

It’s quite possibly the last thing on your mind.

The only thing that you’re thinking of is what Steve’s hair would feel like if you ran your fingers through it and if you’d get a chance to-

“Oh.” Chrissy’s voice pulls you out of the trance that Steve has put you under and you take a step away from him immediately. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No,” you blurt out.

“Yes,” Steve says at the same time.

“I’d offer to leave, but I live here,” Chrissy giggles melodically. “Give me a sec and I’ll get out of your hair though,” she adds with a wink in your direction.

“Oh no, you don’t have to…” You’re suddenly embarrassed that Chrissy might think that something was happening (it was but you didn’t quite want to believe it just yet). The idea of the former cheerleader offering to leave what was essentially her shared kitchen was too much to bear. “I should- erm-“ Your eyes fall on Steve, who looks more amused than anything else. “Talk to you later.”

When you leave to rejoin your friends in the neighboring living room, you can just about make out another one of Chrissy’s amused giggles and Steve’s hushed apology, but you don’t stick around to hear what he’s apologizing for.

The pair enters the living room a few short minutes later, Steve’s eyes immediately find you before Dustin Henderson almost rugby tackles him and pulls him into a conversation that he had been having with Eddie.

Over the following hours whenever you would hazard a glance in Steve’s direction, you would find that he was looking at you already and he flashes you the sad puppy dog eyes without fail every single time. Whenever he makes you laugh, a smug smile materializes on his handsome face, as if he just achieved something grand.

You don’t find yourself alone with Steve again though, making you think that the small moment that you had before had passed and entirely ignoring that it was more down to yourself ensuring that there was no opportunity for him to get you alone. You were in no mood to make yourself look like a fool any further.

The hours tick by until it’s almost twelve midnight and as if on cue, Robin started yawning loudly and exaggeratedly, to make sure that everyone knew that she was getting tired.

All talk then turns to who had come by car and who could drop who off.

Somehow, in the discussion that followed it, it had been decided that you would ride with Steve. How this decision had been made was a mystery to you since you lived nowhere near him and lived only a few blocks from Nancy Wheeler, but when you tried to bring that up, you were told that there was no more room in Nancy’s car. Apparently.

The little glances that several people shared was something that you failed to notice entirely, but if you had noticed you might have figured out that the entire thing had been orchestrated very carefully by your friends, by Vickie and Robin in particular.

There was no amount of planning that could get you in the passenger seat next to Steve though, because Dustin had called shotgun from the moment that he had insisted that he ride with Steve’s car (and had dragged a bewildered Lucas along with him).

When you got in the backseat next to Lucas, you breathed a little sigh of relief that you were not sitting in the front with Steve however, half-knowing that you would end up being a stiff mess for the entire ride. The back was safer, darker, and above all, a little bit further away from Steve.

The rest of the ride is pleasant. Dustin keeps talking about everything and nothing to fill Steve in about what he missed while he was away, even though he must have heard most of it this evening already.

They act more like siblings than anything else, though if you had to be honest, you had seen Steve act similarly towards some of the other teenagers that were present which had only endeared him to you further.

When Lucas is dropped off first, he and Steve make promises to watch a football game together soon, and he drops Dustin off not long after. Similar promises are made, but they’re more of the ‘give us a ride to the arcade’ kind than anything else.

As soon as Dustin closes the door behind him, you’re shifting in the backseat, thinking it would be too odd to keep sitting there all alone. You can be brave for a short while, you’d only be in the car for a few minutes after all.

As soon as you’re moving to open the door, your hand jerks away from the handle when Steve starts driving again.

“Steve!” His eyes find yours in the rearview mirror, not so much saying ‘what?’ with his mouth, but with his eyes instead. “I was going to sit up front.”

“You don’t have to,” he answers simply.

“You’ll look like my driver like this,” you grumble slightly. “It’ll look weird.”

“Really? You’re worried about that?” Steve chuckles and you don’t really notice that he just took the wrong turn. “There’s hardly anyone around right now.”

“You don’t know that.” You lean forward in your seat, your hand coming down to rest on his chair, your fingers close to his shoulder. “There’s this old guy on my street that’s always keeping ta- hey. This isn’t the way to my house.”

“Just taking a little detour,” Steve grins, not willing to divulge any more than that.

The road that he’s currently on takes you out of town and he looks at your face out of the corner of his eye, catches how your eyes widen significantly when you realize where he’s taking you.

“To Lover’s Lake?”

Saying it out loud sounded insane.

Steve Harrington appeared to be taking you to Lover’s Lake.

You.

“Been there before?” It was a question that he knew he shouldn’t ask, but it was out of his mouth before he noticed it. “You don’t have t-“

“Once,” you reply honestly. You catch the little flash of jealousy in his eyes before the streetlights fade out completely and the car hits the dirt road. “With Pete Tanner.”

“No way,” Steve says with a slight mocking laugh. “He’s such a dick.”

“Tell me about it,” you scoff. “He spent about half an hour groping me and assuring me that he knew what he was doing, which he didn't, I might add! I gave him a handjob just to get him to stop. It was a disaster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, it was awful.” The experience had been so off putting that you had turned down every other offer of ‘hanging out’ there that you had gotten after it. This was your first time going back there in two years. “He tried to get me to go with him again the next week, but I shot him down so bad that he never talked to me again.”

“Well, unlike him, I do know what I’m doing.”

Steve didn’t even have to elaborate on that, the stories that floated around about him were pretty positive in regards to that aspect after all. It kind of stopped when his star dropped in his last year of high school, but it had done nothing to diminish his reputation. If you wanted to have a good time, Steve was your man.

“I know, Steve,” you say finally, your voice softer and decidedly more shy.

“You do?”

“Girls talk,” you clarify, even if he must have known where you had gotten it from. “It’s not just guys that talk about their conquests, the girls do, too. I’ve heard plenty of stories about you before.” You fidget with the hemline of your shirt just to have a reason to avert your eyes. “So. I know.”

“You don’t,” he chuckles. “You really don’t, but you’ll find out soon enough.”

You know that he’s right, because no amount of gossip would be able to prepare you for, well… him.

“And for the record, I don’t talk so whatever happens here tonight stays between you and me.” When he cuts the engine, you look out the window to see that he had already parked the car near the shore of the lake. Steve unclasps his safety belt, turns in his seat and fully faces you. “Now, I’m going to get into the backseat with you and then I’m going to kiss you, because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“For how long?”

“How long am I going to kiss you for? As long as you’ll let me.”

“Damn,” you say under your breath and you can feel your body temperature rising in anticipation. “B-but I meant, how long have you wanted to kiss me for?”

Steve doesn’t answer your question immediately. Instead he switches the car radio on and turns the dial until he finds a radio station that’s to his liking. As soon as the sounds of soft rock start playing, he gets out of the front seat and opens the door that Lucas got out of a couple of minutes previous. He slides in next to you just as Roxy Music’s Avalon starts playing.

“A while,” he says simply whilst closing the door behind him. “You think I never noticed you or something?”

“I’m not exactly-“ You gesture with your hand and try your best to avoid saying the names of any of his exes, who you definitely don’t resemble in any way. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know.” He moves in closer until his thigh is pressing into yours. His left hand moves towards your face and you close your eyes when his fingertips skim over your jaw. “You’re pretty.” He says it very matter of factly, as if you should have been aware of it before he told you. “Thought you were pretty in high school, too.”

“Really?” You open your eyes and when you see that his face is a lot closer than you were expecting it to be, you jerk away and inadvertently knock the back of your head against the window. “Ow.”

“Christ, you’re like a baby deer,” he says with a laugh. “So skittish.”

“Sorry.” You rub the back of your skull automatically, but it doesn’t hurt much. “I can’t help it. I blame you.”

“What did I do?” He leans back against the seats, making his long hair flop over his forehead and partially covering his eyes. “I’m just trying to make out with the pretty girl that’s been making eyes at me all night.”

“Said I was sorry,” you whisper.

You don’t think that Steve has ever looked more gorgeous to you than he does in this exact moment and it’s scrambling your brain. You can feel your cheeks burn and your first reaction is to hide your face behind your hands. Your fingers are parted, however, so you can still see Steve’s face.

“No you’re not.”

“I am.” His fingers encircle your wrists and he slowly but gently pulls your hands away from your face. “Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He brings your hands up to his mouth and your breath hitches when he presses his lips to the tips of your fingers. “Huh?”

“For being like this. For not being… confident.”

“You think you need to say sorry for that?” His mouth drags down over your digits towards your palms and you swear you can feel his tongue darting out against your skin. “It’s a fucking turn-on.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’m not usually- not li-“ He presses a light kiss to your wrist and it makes your stomach flip. The rest of the sentence comes out with a slight groan. “I’m never this bad.”

“You were confident enough earlier.”

“This is different.”

And it was. Being in a car with Steve and there being no possibility of anyone interrupting you changes things significantly. Earlier in the kitchen, there were no expectations, it was just some gentle back-and-forth flirting, you know that now, as you tried to get a feel for one another.

There were definitely expectations now, a chance of things going much further than before, and it was filling your stomach with butterflies and your brain with cotton wool. Being this close to Steve was making it hard to have any coherent thoughts whatsoever.

“Different how?” He looks up at you then, pausing his trail of kisses. You can feel his thumbs on your wrists, making soothing circular motions while you try to find your words.

“I didn’t think that we were… you know… going to do anything.”

“What else do people do at Lover’s Lake?”

“I don’t know!” That was a lie, because you did know. Everyone in town knew what happened at Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock. Maybe if you had lived under a rock these last few years, you could have been completely ignorant to it, but you knew. “Maybe you wanted to take me stargazing.”

“Baby, I want to make you see stars, but I wasn’t planning on taking you outside.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “That’s the kinda thing that’s-“

“Making you shy?” He laughs then, knowing full well how to get you flustered. “You thought I didn’t know that? You’re one of the only girls that would blush and giggle whenever I subjected you to my whole ‘ocean of flavor’ bullshit at Scoops.”

“No way was I the only one.” Other girls giggled and twirled their hair at him, too. You saw them ahead of you in line and found yourself unfairly hating the girls that were confident enough to write their phone numbers on a napkin so they could slide it over to him. “No way.”

“Okay, maybe not, but you were definitely the cutest one. You could barely look me in the eye and then Vickie would have to order for you instead. It was cute as hell.” You burst out laughing at his confession. “You okay now?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m going to kiss you silly now.” A small affirmative noise in the back of your throat is all that you manage to offer in terms of a reply when Steve leans in closer. He pauses when he’s close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your face. “Still okay?” You nod, but he’s not letting you off the hook that easily. “With words please.”

“I-I am,” you stutter, “I’m great.”

“You sure? Because you don’t look it,” he grins mischievously. He swipes a finger from the top of your spine up to your hairline. You could feel the heat there before, where some wisps of hair had stuck to your skin, and now he can feel it too. “You coming down with somethin’?”

The only thing that you manage to do is huff in annoyance, words of disagreement already on your tongue, threatening to spill out. There’s not much chance for them to do so, because he takes the opportunity to kiss you now.

It’s a light peck. Just to get things started. No more, no less. But you let out a content sigh all the same. It makes Steve smile again, the ease with which he can read you amusing him to no end.

You whine in displeasure, already impatient that Steve’s making you wait for more.

“Relax, baby,” he breathes against your parted lips, “I was only teasing.”

He starts kissing you in earnest a split second later. And boy, can Steve Harrington kiss.

You had heard the stories, plenty of them, all of them overheard as other girls tried to outdo their friends, but none of their descriptions lived up to the real thing.

Feeling his lips on yours is making you tingle, as if electricity is coursing through him and it’s literally making sparks fly whenever he kisses you. When you feel his hand on your neck, his thumb on the corner of your jaw and his pinkie on your collar bone, it makes your skin prickle there, too.

His tongue swipes over the crease of your mouth and he does it again when you don’t grant him access quickly enough. It makes you feel better that Steve is just as impatient as you seem to be.

When his tongue finally delves into your mouth, you find that he tastes like the beer that he had earlier, but more surprising are the citrus undertones, the ones that are also sticking to his skin whenever you breathe in deeply through your nose. You can practically feel the oranges explode on your lips and the juices penetrate your mouth.

You wonder how much of that is down to your imagination or if Steve does indeed taste faintly of ripe oranges.

He’s blissfully unaware as to what’s going through your mind as your tongues slide over each other. All that he knows is that he wants more than what you’re offering him right now.

Your lips part and he presses his forehead against yours. You’re breathing heavily and you swallow hard enough for him to hear it. Your exhales intermingle with the hot air that’s coming from him, you feel it curl over your lips and spread outward over your cheeks.

Steve nudges the tip of his nose against yours and you both huff a laugh. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him like he’s a lifeline. He says nothing about it, but merely keeps looking at you and waits for your breathing to even out.

“Hey,” he finally says, “you still okay?”

“Perfect.” You tilt your chin up until your lips touch again and you murmur against his mouth, “You got me all lightheaded.”

“From a kiss?” When you nod, he chuckles softly. “That’s nothing.”

You’re a little bit more prepared when he dives back in again, your lips crashing back into each other as he hits you full force. You can’t get enough of him and it feels like the feeling is very much mutual.

Confidence floods back into you, all because you’re with him right now, because he seems to have picked you. He noticed you, well before this night apparently, and it was making you more bold, more powerful.

You start pushing back a bit, your teeth nipping at his lips, your tongue pushing into his mouth until you have him going all breathless instead. You can feel him shudder when you press your hand against his stomach, the muscles twitching under your palm.

Not wanting to be outdone, Steve takes back control a little by putting his hands on your hips and sliding them to the back until he’s grabbing two handfuls of your ass. You squeak when he lifts you up from the seat, making you plant your hands against the roof of the car, head tilting backwards and opening up your neck which he immediately latches on to with his lips.

“Ah.” Your head is spinning, already drunk on him and the way that he’s leaving gentle kisses on the column of your throat definitely isn’t helping. When he starts sucking on your pulse point, you moan his name, “Steve.”

“Right there?” You heave a sigh when he does it again and soon he’s putting more suction on your skin as if he’s trying to mark you. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Yeah, I like it.”

“Thought so,” he says in between open mouthed kisses. “Love those noises you’re making, baby. You gonna make more of them for me?”

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

“Wouldn’t be able to stop anyway,” you pant in reply. “Fuck, Steve.”

“Like that,” he says, voice sounding needy and heated. “Just like that.”

Nothing but a string of whines tumble from your lips as Steve continues his assault on your neck, but his mouth keeps moving down lower until it hits the collar of your shirt. He pulls it down as far as it can go so he can lick the dip above your sternum before veering outward to the parts of your collarbones that he managed to uncover.

Your hips are grinding against nothing at all, desperately needing some kind of friction, hoping that Steve will take the hint since his hands are still on your ass and nothing seems to be able to make them move.

When they finally shift, you breathe a sigh of relief, because you can finally feel his long fingers on the front of your body, gliding up your torso until they’re touching the underwire of your bra… where they then come to a complete standstill again.

The constant teasing is really starting to get to you. You’re so ridiculously hot for the guy that you swear you’ll scorch your way from the leather upholstery all the way down to the chassis.

It would appear that Steve is able to tell that you’re seconds away from reaching your limit however.

Your back is pushed against the door until there’s nothing left for you to do but sit in the seat sideways facing him. Steve follows you and soon he’s sitting on his knees between your parted legs. His hands are on your knees and he slides them down the inside of your denim clad thighs, fingers dancing over the inside seam, down towards where you’re searing hot for him.

Your hips push up instinctively, only to feel his digits move upwards to your hips, missing where you wanted to feel them the most completely.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “not yet.”

When you pout, he chuckles and you highly suspect that he likes seeing you like that a little bit too much, seeing how something like this has happened a couple of times already.

Sweet merciful release comes when he finally slides his hands under your shirt and cups your breasts through the rather plain white bra that you’re wearing. He pulls the cotton cups down and you arch your back into his palms when you feel his warm skin against yours.

“Baby, could you-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you were already leaning forward, grabbing the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it into the front seat. “Someone’s eager,” he grins as he gets his first view at your (almost) bare chest. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

You grab at his shoulders, tugging on his shirt, but he surges forward to smash his lips into yours first before whipping his shirt off with the same level of eagerness as you had taken off yours. His shirt joins yours in the front, hanging over the steering wheel.

Your hand shakes slightly when you reach for him, the palm of your hand connecting with his bare chest. You had seen him like this plenty of times when he was still the swim team captain, like so many other girls that came to cheer him on during high school, but you had never thought that you would be able to touch him like this.

There’s barely enough time for you to run your hand from his clavicle down to the top of his jeans before he kisses you hungrily again. He barely allows you time to breathe and every time that your lips part, you’re taking in large gulps of air, almost forgetting to breathe entirely if it wasn’t for your burning lungs alerting you to the fact that air was desperately needed.

“Steve,” you whine when his chest hair rubs against your hardened nipples.

“I know, baby,” he replies and before you know it, his hands are on your jeans, undoing the button and tugging them down your legs. Your underwear comes along with them, but you could care less. When he realizes that your lower half is bare, his eyes widen a fraction, barely visible from the faint green glow of his car stereo. “Let me look at you. All of you.”

Taking the hint, you reach around your back to take your bra off and playfully throw it right at him. He brushes it off the leather seat and it slides down to the floor, where you think you’ll leave it when he drops you off at the end of the night, just to give him something to remember you by.

You put your hands on your knees and slowly start pulling your legs apart, baring yourself to him completely. Steve’s eyes drop to the apex of your thighs, his hunger for you plain to see on his face, even in the mostly dark car.

One leg slips off the bench and you push the other one up, hooking your ankle over the headrest. You sigh, contented and warmed by his gaze, and your hands glide over your thighs, until they come to a stop on the lower part of your belly.

“Well, fuck,” Steve finally growls. “Pretty as a picture.”

Rushing forward, he’s on top of you in a flash, lips smashed together and his hands massaging your tits. His hips undulate against yours, the zipper of his fly catching your clit until you’re gasping and sighing into his mouth. You wrap your legs around his hips, the balls of your feet digging into his ass, pulling him closer into you until you’re sure that you must have soaked through the thick fabric of his jeans.

It’s embarrassing how fast you come like this, with his pants still on, but when Steve leans his forehead against yours so you can just make out his winning smile, you know that this was probably his intention all along.

His lips hit the corner of your mouth, then your chin, and then he starts kissing a trail down your body that’s still glowing until you feel his tongue circling one of your nipples before he takes it into his mouth and sucks on it.

Your hands shoot to the back of his head, your fingers tangling through the strands of his hair, and making sure he stays right where he is. He obliges, not moving until you pull him to your other breast, where he does the exact same thing.

Steve moves back and forth like this for a while until you can feel his fingers touching your clit which makes you pull on his hair harder than you had intended.

But it doesn’t seem to be nearly hard enough for Steve.

“Come on, baby. Pull,” he husks against your skin. You twist your fingers through the thick strands and do as he asks, but it’s still not good enough. “That’s all you got? Harder.”

Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pull so hard that his cheek knocks into one of your breasts. You can feel the corner of his mouth that’s pressed against your skin curl up into a smile, obviously pleased. It makes you repeat the motion, only this time you pull him to the side until his chin is resting on your sternum.

“You want to guide me?” His hands slip underneath your thighs before you even manage to nod, fingers digging into your flesh. “Do it. I dare you.”

“Think that I won’t?”

“Oh no, I know you will,” he grins.

“You want me to tell you what to do?”

“You could. I might even listen.” Despite what he says, it’s painstakingly clear that he will do whatever you tell him to do. “Just figured that it would be more fun if you’d just yank on my hair until my lips are on your pussy.”

Shifting your hand to the top of his head, you push him down. His tongue darts out of his mouth and the tip of it touches your heated skin, creating a path as he’s on his way down.

When you can feel his breath hit your mound, you stop, just to see what he would do. Steve doesn’t move, but simply hovers above you, completely still and waiting for you to guide him the last few inches.

The last push is rough, your impatience showing once more, and now he’s completely level with your cunt. Whenever he exhales through his nose, you can feel it hitting your center and since his breath is a lot cooler than the heat that’s burning between your thighs, he makes you squirm with every outward breath.

The wait is agonizing and since he wanted you to be his guide, you briefly wonder whether you should just grab a handful of his hair and push his face down, but he takes you completely by surprise by spitting on you instead.

The loud moan that bursts from your lips surprises you both. You can feel his saliva dripping down and mixing with your own fluids.

“You like that?” He breathes against your thigh when he hazards a glance to look up at your face. “Feel good?”

“Yeah,” you moan, “real good. Don’t stop, Steve.”

“I won’t.” He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit with the flat of his tongue and your hips jerk upwards to chase his mouth when his tongue stops making contact with you. “I’ll give you what you want. Promise.”

“Counting on it.”

Steve practically dives in and devours you. His tongue hits all the right places, the tip of his nose making contact with your swollen clit whenever his mouth dips further down.

What he can do with his mouth is damn near sinful. He’s so good at eating you out that he has reduced you to nothing but sharp yelps and loud mewls in a matter of seconds.

He’s licking up every drop of your juices like a man starved, like you’re the never-ending dessert of a three course dinner, something that keeps regenerating and keeps making him hungry for more.

The pads of two of his fingers prod at your entrance, applying the slightest amount of pressure, just to make you aware of what he’s about to do, which provides a sharp contrast to the speed with which his tongue is batting at your clit.

“Please, Steve,” you cry out, begging already. “Need it so bad.”

There’s no reply, save from the slow slide of his fingers into your entrance. Your walls constrict them instantly, sucking them in deeper. Your back arches, pushing yourself away from the door, until his free hand presses down on your stomach to make sure you can’t move.

Since you can’t do much else, you grab at his hair and yank harder than before, until he moans against you and rams his fingers into you as far as they can go. He curls them up against your sweet spot until you’re gasping for air, jolts of electricity coursing from your cunt throughout your body. You can feel it all the way down to the tips of your curling toes.

“Oh, Steve,” you gasp when he covers your clit with his lips and sucks. Your thighs clench together, gripping his head between them. It makes him moan loudly and the added vibrations are what ultimately push you over the edge. “Ohgodohgodohhhh- Steve!”

Your climax hits you so suddenly that it’s almost as if Steve’s car just got hit by a truck and you’re seconds away from smashing straight through the windshield. You’re not, of course, but Steve makes you come so hard that it’s almost too easy to imagine.

Despite the fact that he’s just given you an earth-shattering climax, he’s still going, but you barely notice at first. You’re practically floating, soaring all the way up in seventh heaven, miles above the car, completely elsewhere as the aftershocks still pulsate through your body.

The muscles in your thighs are still shaking, Steve can feel them clench and unclench under his tight grip as he keeps them wide open. Your stomach keeps tightening as the waves of pleasure keep coming, your brain all fuzzy like you’ve just spent most of your evening getting high.

By the time that your head’s finally clear, in the process of shaking off the indescribable buzz, you become aware of what he’s doing, what he's still doing.

The sounds of pleasure quickly change to overstimulated whines instead. You try to push him away, but your muscles are made of jelly and he only proceeds to grip your thighs tighter, keeping them apart with so much force that you fear you’ll have neat little bruises where his fingers were digging into your flesh come morning.

The more noise you make, literally begging him to stop now because “you can’t” does nothing to stop him. If anything, it only makes him go at you harder, pushing his tongue as far into your quivering channel as he can, until you’re crying his name.

“Steve, Steve, Steveeeeee…”

Your voice breaks and you start keening, your fingers attempting to push him away and keep him right where he is at the same time. You swear that you can feel him smile against your abused pussy, but you’re so out of it that you can’t be entirely sure.

Steve manages to pull another climax out of you, tears it out of you kicking and screaming, dragging it out onto the surface after he had been digging deep for it, knowing full well that you had another one left in you.

This time, he lets you go and you crumple into the door, chest heaving and your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. You’re past speech, your throat dry as parchment because you couldn’t stop chanting his name as Steve made your insides burn hotter than a forest fire.

Through blurry vision, you can just about make out that Steve sits down next to you, but you can feel one of his hands on your ankle, fingers lightly wrapped around it and his thumb making the same circular motions as earlier while you come down from your high.

When you look up, the roof of the car appears to be swimming with stars. You can still see them behind your eyelids when you squeeze your eyes shut. Steve gave you a climax of such epic proportions that you don’t even have to tilt your head back to be able to look out the window to see the clear sky, which would no doubt be dotted with very real twinkling stars.

Steve had no idea that it was one of your favorite things to do on a cloudless night. He actually brought the night sky into the car, just like he said he would, and it made you smile to yourself.

“What are you smiling about?” Upon hearing his voice, you stop looking up and you blink a few times to clear your vision before you look at him. “Hm?”

“Nothing,” you reply, because admitting to what had happened seemed silly somehow.

“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can tell that he wants to press on so you sit up, press yourself against his side, lean your head against his shoulder and rest your hand on his hip. “Don’t want to talk, huh?”

“Don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admit.

“That good?”

“Steve, I think that the words ‘you rocked my world’ don’t even do it justice, even if that’s exactly what happened.”

“Cheesy,” he laughs and you can feel his lips on the crown of your head. “Good thing that I like cheesy.”

The two of you sit like this for a short while and you listen to his steady breathing. You desperately want to repay the favor, want to make Steve see the same stars as you did, and he seems to sense it.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says in a low voice, “so quit breaking your pretty little head over it.”

“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”

“Okay.”

His answer is short and simple, making it perfectly clear that there are no expectations. He’d take you home if you asked him to, but you would much rather stay here. You don’t want to go anywhere else just yet.

You start out slow, by kissing his upper arm and then his shoulder. Moving to sit on your knees for better access, your lips move from his neck until you’re peppering kisses all along his jaw. Steve doesn’t move, he merely watches you and lets you do whatever you want.

Reaching for his jaw, you turn his head in your direction so you can kiss him full on the lips. He plays along perfectly, allowing you to give him languid kisses, with his eyes wide open so he can keep following your every move.

Your hand moves from his neck down over his chest, skimming over his skin, until your fingers reach the top of his jeans. You pop the button with ease, pull down the zip, and before he knows it, you’ve slipped your hand inside so you can palm his length over his boxer shorts.

“I was going to tell you to take as long as you need, but if you keep touching me like that-” His sentence ends abruptly and with a sharp hiss, all because you squeezed him a little. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” you giggle and proceed to do it once more. You can feel his cock growing more firm against your palm. “Couldn’t help it.”

“Oh really?” he says, knowing you were teasing. You laugh again and this time he manhandles you until you’re laying underneath him. You eagerly pull his jeans down until they’re pulled underneath his ass. Your eyes drift down to his boxers and you can literally see him straining away against the cotton fabric. “I think that this is going to be a long night, honey.”

“Oh no.” Reaching for him one more time, you find him hard as a rock. There’s only one final cloth barrier between you now and soon that too will be gone. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Little brat,” he groans right before you finally push his boxers down. You finally look down, curious, and your eyes nearly roll out of your skull when you catch sight of his cock. Your hand moves slowly, tentative, until your fingers touch his velvety shaft. “A very long night,” he promises with a soft moan.

“I sure hope so,” you whisper back. “I could stay out all night.”

“Tempting,” Steve replies. He holds himself up with his arm and it makes his long hair hang in your face like a curtain.

It makes a grin appear on your lips, making you think back to how this started, with you looking at his long hair across the room and trying to stop yourself from staring. You can’t stop looking at it now, at those silky strands and how they sway back and forth, tickling your face, clinging to your damp forehead, and you don’t know if you could ever stop staring.

You don’t want to stop staring. Not for tonight at least. And for however long he’ll allow you to keep looking at him after this night…

#stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #mar writes

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SIX

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, mentions of harassment, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 4.8k+

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◁ previous part, next part▷

6:00 ───ㅇ─────────────── 24:00

HOUR SIX - 9:00 PM

Eddie holds the front door to apartment 2C open for you, finally letting go of your hand for the first time since you’d plead with him to leave the drunken men at the bar. You can’t look him in the eyes, head tilted downwards as you brush past him and don’t even stop to overthink the smell of his cologne taking over you when your sore shoulder bumps his chest.

The adrenaline is wearing off. The fear is settling like a heavy knot in your abdomen.

It was a part of the experience of being a woman, they’d always told you. Men would gawk, boys would be boys, and it was always something you’re supposed to laugh off. You’ve felt wandering hands of strange men during night outs with your friends, you’d been on the receiving end of one too many attempts at flattery that crossed a line. You’d never done anything about them; you were always taught to smile and move past it. Don’t engage them. Don’t give them reason to lash out.

And the men you had chosen to trust and surround yourself also did nothing.

You don’t blame them. Steve, a brilliant example, was usually oblivious. But he did what he could, throwing a casual arm over your shoulder and somehow blinding these men with charisma and charm as he subtly would pull you away from them in the midst of lighthearted laughter.

Eddie is the first man in your life to have ever defended you so vehemently. He’s the first to not smile and nod it off, to not reduce himself to a simple bystander. Not only did he do something about it, but he had lashed out as you normally craved to.

If you hadn’t interfered, he would have punched the guy, Jason. You’re sure of it.

He’s still angry, footsteps heavy as he yanks off his jacket once the front door is locked, and you can’t quite decipher if his irritation is at you or the situation. If he’s still fuming about the fight, or if he’s still not quite cooled off from the entire interaction that had taken place outside.

When he gently grazes at your throbbing shoulder, fingertips hovering over your skin as he pushes the collar of your shirt out of his line of sight to see the handprint, you start to find your answer - it’s the latter.

“C’mere,” he murmurs gently, walking towards the kitchen and grabbing a stool from his breakfast bar to drag behind him. He settles it near the counter across from his fridge, flicking on the fluorescent overhead lights of his kitchen.

When he nods to the stool, you sit wordlessly.

You’re shaking, still trying to let your brain catch up as you grapple with what exactly happened.

Jason had grabbed you, roughly. He’d been trying to get you to go home with him. He was drunk. He had just been resorting to his instincts, he was just a boy being a boy.

Eddie’s actions are beginning to soften now that he stands before you. You can see him flexing his hand that had held yours, tightening it before stretching it back out. He does it a few times. Tightening and stretching, tightening and stretching. You don’t comment on it.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” his brown eyes are staring into yours as he asks you, full of something resembling care, cautious as he gages you.

The simple act of him asking for permission cracks something in your chest. It’s not a bone, it’s not a shard of glass, it’s not a vine of hope.

But it’s something, and certainly not something bad, so you nod.

When he pulls on your shirt this time, he allows his skin to come in contact with yours. You feel the chill of his rings sweep over your hot shoulder, and your eyes flutter shut in an effort to ignore the electricity that begins to pulsate down your spine. It shocks from the base of your neck into your lower back, leaving a trail of rippling tingles in its wake.

Had his palm against yours elicited this same reaction? Had he felt this when your hand clutched his bicep?

You remember the last time you were in this kitchen, the way the two of you had been fighting and that aching to see him bleed as you once did. The ache is long gone.

Because all it takes is one look at his face when you finally find the bravery to open your eyes again, and you can see his scarlet written plainly in his expression. You’ve been bruised, but he’s been pricked. Your hurt and his hurt are one in the same in this moment as he takes in the shape of a handprint, plain as day, red and angry despite the layer of clothing that had attempted to separate you from the drunken stranger.

“I should go back down there and kill him,” he says under his breath, his eyes never leaving your shoulder.

“No,” you whisper with a small shake of your head, “You shouldn’t.”

The sound of your voice has his head snapping up, eyes locking with yours once more. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t.”

Because he’s not worth it, because he was nothing more than a drunk boy. Because if you go down there, I’m scared you’ll get hurt.

You don’t say a single thought that comes to mind, especially the last one. You just shrug.

“I should have punched the fucker when I had the chance,” he grits out, his eyes landing back on the soon-to-be bruise, “I should have knocked his teeth out for laying his hands on you. If I ever see him again, he’s a dead-man walking.”

You can see his anger building once more with every shaky breath, eyes glazing over and shoulders tensing. You don’t even think before you’re bringing a shaking hand back up to his shoulder, landing without much hesitancy, delicate in its weight against him.

He glances down at it in shock. It’s as if he didn’t expect your touch, or maybe he does feel those same shockwaves set his system off balance from something as simple as your hand on him. Either way, you don’t see his shiver as he brings his free hand to cup over yours.

“Just one reason,” he presses, palm impossibly warm against the back of your hand, tone finally wavering, “For or against me going back out there. Say the word, and I’ll put him six feet under.”

“Don’t,” you’re insisting now, and when you squeeze his shoulder, he returns it against your hand, “He’s just some guy. He was drunk, and he probably didn’t know any be-”

“If you say he didn’t know any better, I might actually get mad at you.”

Eddie’s a man. He hasn’t learned the art of letting go like you have. He has the privilege of being angry like this right now.

You don’t respond, and he sighs, taking a step back as your hand falls back to your lap, “You should ice that. I’ll grab an ice pack.”

You watch his tense back as he turns to his freezer, the way his shoulder blades flex against his t-shirt as he digs for the promised ice pack. It's a wide, unfamiliar terrain, an expanse that you can picture yourself running the very tips of your fingers over.

In a moment of weakness, you imagine what’s beneath the shirt. You imagine your fingertips tracing over bare skin and freckles, possible scars that have stories for another night.

As quickly as you think it, you push the image away.

Once he brings the ice pack to you, wrapped in a paper towel, he’s moving back across the kitchen and leaning on the counter opposite of you beside the fridge. He crosses his arms and legs alike, simply staring as you press the cool material onto the injured space.

“Why are you defending him?” Eddie asks suddenly, brows furrowing, “He… He was an asshole. There was no excuse for how he was treating you, someone he doesn’t know. Why didn’t you just tell him no?”

“Easier said than done,” you hum as you focus on treating your shoulder rather than looking at Eddie again. You’re coming to learn that looking at him is a dangerous game, always risking to find another feature of his to learn.

Dimples, cologne, shoulder blades - if the list grows too long, it’ll only be harder to discard the new information after tonight.

“You’ve never had a problem saying no to me,” he points out with a cock of his eyebrow. You’re grateful that his tension is lightening up, falling back into an easy rhythm between the two of you rather than being furious.

But you can’t stop thinking of that scarlet across his face. A red to match the own beneath your skin. And you didn’t even have to crack open his chest to see it - it was presented to you in a moment of weakness, a moment of grudges forgotten and protectiveness fierce.

You step out on a limb once more with Eddie. Something tells you that you won’t regret it.

“Because you don’t scare me.”

Five simple words, but their weight is not lost on him. His face falls, and before you can mentally prepare yourself, you’re looking into his honey brown eyes.

They’re doe-like. They aren’t hard like Jason’s had been, full of whiskey and righteousness, but sincerity. Your words affect him.

And so you continue on, “If I say no to you, I’m not scared you’ll lash out. Not physically, at least. You’ve been mean to me, don’t get me wrong, but… but no meaner than I’ve been to you,” you take pause, you let your words settle onto his shoulders as your hand had, “You’re a lot of things, Eddie, but you’re not one of the guys who hears convince me when I tell you no.”

“Because no means no,” he quickly says, tilting his head, “You shouldn’t take that shit from anyone.”

He pushes off the counter, still looking at you as he crosses the space he’d placed between you two.

You could freeze up, but you don’t. You’re not scared of him. You never have been, and you don’t think you ever will be.

“If a man ever acts otherwise,” he continues, “If a man ever lays his hands on you, if he ever does take it as convince me, you call me. You call me, and I’ll show him just what convincing means.”

He’s standing in front of you now, and you hadn’t even noticed your knees spreading, leaving a space between your thighs for him to easily occupy. He stops short of it though, not pressing into your space, not yet.

“Is this that scary dog privilege Nancy is always going on about?” the corners of your mouth quirk, looking up at Eddie through heavier lids.

The fear is gone. And all that’s replaced is exhaustion. It tugs on your limbs and mind alike, catching right up with the alcohol from the night.

“Scary dog privilege?” he echos, starting to grin as well. He takes another step forward, and the spice of his cologne is back.

It’s stronger here, outside of the bar and in his own space.

“She’s always saying we should invite you out to bars and stuff,” you explain, smile splitting wider, “Says guys would bother us less with you around.”

His smile falls, and he grows serious again, “Do guys bother you a lot?”

“It’s the bars in a college town, it’s norm-”

“Jesus Christ,” he interrupts, “Okay, yeah. From now on, tell Nance to invite me,” he groans running a hand over his face, “I can’t believe you’re trying to tell me that shit is normal. What the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

“It’s not always so scary,” you try to convince him through feeble laughter, “Most nights don’t end in bruised shoulders, you know. It’s just… I don’t know. It is normal.”

“Fuck that.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Fuck that, but that’s just the way it is.”

He isn’t convinced, it’s written all over his face. His head is tilting again, and he’s looking with those warm brown doe eyes, and you know he isn’t convinced.

There’s a tension in the air that you can’t handle. You have to break it.

“What if I don’t want you to join girls’ night?” you ask him, keeping a teasing tone.

“Too fuckin’ bad.”

“Maybe I don’t want to utilize your scary dog privilege.”

He takes a final step, and now, he is standing in the space your thighs had allotted for him, “Sweetheart, let me make myself very clear. It doesn’t matter how pissed you make me, how crazy you drive me. I don’t care if we’re being civil or not, if you’re my…. My enemy or whatever the fuck you think I should call you – I meant it. If a guy like that asshole tonight ever bothers you, I’m kicking his ass.”

You know he means it. For the same reason that you know that you’re not scared of him.

He’s infuriating. He gets under your nerves and he will argue with you at every chance he gets, and yet, Eddie Munson carries an air of safety. It’s never been clearer to you than now, after spending so many hours with him, after seeing so many different sides to him that you hadn’t been privy to before.

“What if it’s not me? Guys flirt with Nancy too, you know.”

“Byers can handle his own, and so can Nance.”

“And Robin?”

“I’ve seen her slap Steve on a dare. I have faith in her.”

“You don’t have faith in me?”

His eyes widen at your question, nearly at a loss for words, “I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean… It’s not that.”

“Then why does your protection only extend to me?”

Your knees fall closed the slightest amount, and they bump his hips. He doesn’t move - he doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Fine. If you don’t like it, I can also protect Nance and Buckley.”

“I never said I don’t like it,” you breathlessly correct.

You’re going too far. You don’t understand how the two of you ended up here; the shards of civility still linger in your chest and gut, but they might as well have vanished. It’s easy to forget about his cruel words when he’s this close, when he’s making promises like that.

Cruel words. The two of you need to discuss earlier. You need to know why he said what he did. Because now he stands before you with promises of protection and molten eyes, and you no longer believe him.

If he truly hated you, if he truly believed the answer he’d given you, he wouldn’t be saying these things. He wouldn’t care this much.

“Can we talk about what you said?” you whisper, and like that, the moment shatters. Once soft eyes turn hard, and he takes several steps back until your knees’ feather light touch disconnects from him.

“There’s nothing else to say,” you’re surprised he doesn’t play dumb. He knows you’re talking about him hating you.

“Nothing else to say?” you scoff, trying to bite back any of your own cruelty, “Eddie, you said you hated me before you even met me.”

“I know what I said-”

“And I don’t believe a damn word you said now. So, why the cop out answer?”

His eyes narrow, “You obviously believed me, or you wouldn’t have stormed off.”

You swallow hard, nodding, thinking over your next words carefully, “Because it hurt. Because it felt like we were… we were making some sort of progress, and all of a sudden, you’re telling me I never stood a chance at being your friend.”

“You asked me, and I was honest.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“How would you know if I was being honest or not?”

The back and forth is suddenly making you want to scream. Because you know - you know he was lying, or he wouldn’t be so suddenly defensive.

“Why can’t you admit it?” you finally break, sighing hard as you look at him, shaking your head softly, “Why can’t you just admit it was a cop out answer, and tell me the truth?”

The ice pack that had been reduced to being long forgotten slips from your shoulder, landing on the floor with a riveting smack. Eddie is quick to bend over and grab it, as if he was fleeing your stern look before he stands up straight, hand stuck out in your direction with the offering of the pack.

“Just because it wasn’t what you wanted to hear doesn’t mean I was lying,” he says, waiting for you to take the ice pack.

You take the pack roughly, and your fingers make contact with his palm. The same palm that had pressed to yours, the same palm that had guided you down the dark street and kept you close until you were back in his apartment.

You know he was lying.

“It’s not a matter of it not being the answer I wanted,” you snap, temper growing thin, “It’s a matter of you lying to me, and I don’t understand why. It’s a matter of you saying shit about how you’d protect me, no matter the circumstances, and yet also saying shit like that. It doesn’t fucking add up, and it doesn’t take a genius to see through your bullshit.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You did.”

You’re back to square one – just like that. Two stubborn idiots, both two headstrong to back down.

You’re tired. You’re exhausted of this, of one step forward and three steps back. It was never a dance you were fond of, and your desire for it doesn’t suddenly grow as you sit here in Eddie’s kitchen, arguing and pushing his buttons for answers.

“What do you want me to say?” he bites, honey eyes now a dark and stormy shade with the clouds hanging over them heavily, “Do you want me to say there was just some magical moment it clicked? That there’s something you can fix, you can change, to make me not hate you?”

“Yes!” you finally shout, throwing your hands up, still clutching that damn ice pack, “Yes, I actually do want you to say that. What is so wrong with us being friends? What is so wrong with us, at the very least, not being enemies?”

“Everything!” his volume raises right along with yours, “Everything is wrong with that?”

“Why? Tell me what’s so fucking wrong with it, and I’ll let it go. Hell, I’ll leave you alone the rest of this night, the rest of your life, if it means you being honest for once.”

“When else have I lied to you?” he seethes, and you immediately miss the moment his anger wasn’t directed at you. You miss when the two of you toed the line of being on each other’s side and not opposing forces. For a brief moment of false serendipity, it hadn’t been you versus Eddie, and it killed you to admit that it had been nice.

It kills you to admit you want that, not whatever this is. You don’t want to scream at each other anymore. After tonight, you’re done. You don’t want this back and forth, you don’t want the constant bickering, you don’t want to play this game anymore. The dance is over for you. Really, it should have ended in Steve Harrington’s apartment, the night you’d thrown a glass at Eddie. The night you decided you actually hated him, not for the sake of hating him because he hated you, but because he had truly cut you.

“If you’re lying about why you hate me, how am I supposed to believe a word you say to me tonight?” you finally ask in a quiet, even, resentful tone.

If he can’t tell you the truth about this, then his words mean nothing to you. All the talk of protection, all the promise of defending you, means nothing.

The crack in your chest this time is not pleasant.

“Ask me anything. Ask me, and I’ll be honest,” he suddenly demands.

Even in his anger with you, he doesn’t crowd you. There are still boundaries.

I’m not scared of you.

Even now, as he glares down at you, you’re not. Eddie Munson doesn’t scare you, but the pounding of your heart, how badly you need to hear him tell you the truth, does.

You could ask him the same question from the bar: Why do you hate me?

You could get your answer of crystal clear honesty right here, right now. You could ask him what you ever did to get under his nerves like this. You could ask him why he’d been kind at all the first night if all he ever planned to do was throw brutal punch after metaphorical punch for the rest of your relationship. You could ask him anything, and he would answer you honestly at this moment.

So, of course, you fuck it all up.

“Yeah? Okay, fine. Let’s start with why you have porn magazines with marked pages of models that look like me.”

Wrong question. The moment for honesty slips from your grasps.

He laughs bitterly, throwing his head back as he finally turns from you, “Fuck you. Truly, fuck you.”

He starts to walk away, and you discard the ice pack onto the counter before standing from the stool and following him, “You said ask you anything, and you’d answer honestly. I want an honest answer.”

He stops suddenly and turns to face you, making you nearly collide with his chest. There are no hesitant hands to land on your bicep, not outreach from him to steady you. All he does is stare, hard and hateful, as his chest heaves.

“It’s all a fucking game to you, isn’t it? This entire thing is just one giant joke. I try to give you what you want, I try to offer honesty, and you throw it in my face.”

“It’s not,” you correct with venom, “I want the answer to that question. You owe me that much. After everything you’ve said tonight, about hating me before we met, about celebrating my death, I think I’ve earned that answer.”

There’s a flash in his eyes. For a moment, the hatefulness breaks, and you see Eddie for who he is – a guy who can’t say what he means. Maybe his dishonesty isn’t from a place of getting under your nerves, but because he can’t even be honest with himself. A part of you must have known it, must have known you wouldn’t be getting any honesty from him, and that’s why you went with that question. You couldn’t handle another lie or excuse as to why things had to go as they did.

“Sweetheart, I think we both know why.”

Honesty is a bitch. Hand in hand with karma, you realize now, it is capable of stunning you into silence.

What the fuck does that mean?

“I obviously don’t,” you wave your hands between the two of you animatedly, growing frustrated, “If I knew the answer to any of the questions I have for you, this argument wouldn’t be happening.”

A chuckle of disbelief. A streak of crimson that bleeds from your wounds of civility.

You see it clearly now; even if Eddie has let you believe he also bleeds, the two of you will never share the same shade of scarlet. Your hurt and his hurt do not go hand in hand. It never has, and it never will. The two of you are not stars that align once every hundred years, you are not a rare phenomenon to witness.

You’re two people who hate each other. Who hate without reason, apparently.

“Fine,” you gasp out, now being the one to take steps back, “Fine. You don’t like that question, Munson? I have hundreds more. Why do you hate me? If what you said wasn’t a lie, why were you ever nice to me when we first met? Why would you give me that false hope? Why do you pull stunts like that in the kitchen, promising things you can’t do? Why do you seem to enjoy hurting me?”

Like a tired candle, his anger immediately flickers out.

It’s not from the breath he lets out, it’s from your gust of your own honesty.

Why would you give me that false hope?

Now that you’ve broken the dam, it’s flooding out. There will be no answers, so you don’t worry about what spills from your mouth now. He’s made it clear that honesty is an illusion, just like civility, and you’ll always have to watch it slip between your fingers. The buds of hopefulness on your vine will never be nurtured to bloom, and are doomed to wither before they reach potential.

“Why were you so cruel that night at Steve’s?” your voice breaks, “Why did you say those things you said that night? Why do you avoid me? Why can’t you stand me? I’m tired of it, Eddie. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I…” the syllable is the only noise he makes. The rest of his sentence dies on his tongue.

The air of safety has left the room. There’s no safety, no friendliness, in the air you two share. Suddenly, you’re back to six months earlier, standing and looking at him with wide eyes as shattered glass crunches beneath both your feet, nothing but hurt to take the place of what once was wrath. It’s just you and him, bystanders forgotten, moments of hope bursting into flames as they eat away at your stomach and heart alike.

“This is why,” he whispers, no longer meeting your heavy gaze.

“What?” you snap, “This is why, what?”

“Why we can’t be friends.”

You know what the cracks in your chest are now. Vines, decaying and breaking of fragility until they’re nothing more than dust.

“You’re right, we can’t be friends,” you choke out, trying to not cough on the vines’ dust, “Because you can’t be honest with me. Honesty was never an option, was it?”

“It wasn’t,” he looks impossibly small. It’s no longer a fair fight with his sagging shoulders and shining eyes, “How can I give you honesty when all I’ve ever done is hurt you?” he pauses for only a moment, before he’s starting back up, whispering your name before continuing on, “All I’ve ever done is hurt you. I have only given you reason after reason to hate me. And you just- you kept giving me a million second chances. You want honesty? Fine – I don’t deserve your second chances.”

“No, you don’t,” you say before you can think it over, before a small voice in your brain can say but I will still give them, “But is it really a second chance if you never let me give the first chance to begin with?”

Your words have a certain finality to them that you immediately wish to take back. You want to grab the words from the air between you and tuck them back into your chest, hide them away from him. Because you’re admitting to him once more that you always wanted something more than this, something better than this with him. You wanted friendship. You wanted civility. You wanted him to like you, to laugh with you like he had that first night, even if it had only been once. Part of you even wanted to go back in time and take back ever joining his friend group, invading his life, so you never would have had to endure that sudden departure into cold shoulders that eventually transformed into brutal words and harsh insults.

You should have never taken that 8 AM math class. You should have never let hope flower in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can say, “I regret it.”

You don’t know what exactly he regrets, don’t ask him for any more honesty, as he turns heel and walks down the hall. He walks away from you, into his room, shutting the door. Both on you and the conversation.

And yet, you still follow him down the hall. You still press your back to the wall across from the door, and you still slide down onto the floor across the room he’s now locked himself away from you into. You could leave. You could tell your friends that the deal is off. But you don’t.

You sit and you wait and you let your own sentiment of regret rest on your tongue.

You regret it, too. You regret everything that led to this moment. You regret whatever you did to Eddie Munson to make him hate your guts.

But mostly, you just regret pushing him so far. Somehow, you still let the blame fall on yourself as you stare at the closed door, wondering what could have been if you just stopped asking questions you couldn’t handle the answers to.

When the groupchat texts you for the photo proof of the hour, you don’t reply. Instead, you click onto your individual text thread with Steve, and type your answer there.

YOU: i fucked up.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #oof

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calumfmu · 2 months

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steve who steals eddie’s girl 😉 sorry eddie

Hiii babe, ugh I love this idea. Took a little different route with it, hope that's okay. 2.4k+ words of pure smut, so here we go. Steve x reader (steals her from Eddie) cw: 18+, mdni, pure smut, p in v, unprotected sex, eating out reader, fingering, cream pie, cheating (don't do it pls), reader is a bad person sorry y'all <3

You sat in the crowded living room, bodies pressed against one another, dense smoke filling the air, fragrant smell of liquor filling the room as the liquid splashed from cups onto the wood floor. Eddie sat by your side, hand on your knee to comfort you, other one stretched out in a deal, cash taken in as a baggie of marijuana left it.

You hated these things, or so you claimed. Hated being around his dealings, wanted to be as far from it as possible. He had to make a living somehow, so you preferred that ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ model that silently governed your relationship.

“You okay, hon?” Eddie whispered to you, you responded with a subtle nod, eyes searching the crowd. He hummed, returning to another ‘patron’ as he called it, them sitting across from him.

It had been suspicious, you jumping at the offer to attend Eddie’s deal, at the ever so famous Steve Harrington’s house party. They weren’t friends, far from it, only in communication when the latter wanted drugs.

‘It’s no big deal,’ you muttered, hurriedly applying blush to your cheeks. You stared at yourself in the vanity of your room, Eddie lingering behind you with his arms crossed.

‘You never want to come,’ he bluntly stated, watching your makeup appear on your face. ‘Why now?’

You threw down the brush, hearing the clatter of it hitting the wood. Turning in your seat, you made eye contact with him, eyes wide as you put on a pout.

‘A girl can’t want to spend time with her handsome boyfriend?’

It did the trick. Eddie folding immediately, smile brushing his features as he gave his interrogation up. You slowly turned back to the mirror, masking the guilt that came up with a smear of lipstick on your mouth. He didn’t have to know the real reason behind wanting to attend, he couldn’t know.

He appeared in the crowd, his perfectly coiffed hair, voluminous as ever, perfectly mole dotted face smiling brightly as he greeted the people in his home. It was like time stopped, a light shining down from heaven as you watched him.

You felt Eddie’s hand slip from your knee, meeting the aluminum tin that sat in his lap.

Steve crossed the room closer in your direction, eyes searching the crowd one final time before they landed on you, smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. There was a barely there nod of his head, gesturing upstairs as his gaze danced between you and the man who sat beside you.

Before you could gesture anything back, he disappeared, swallowed up by the crowds around him. You shot up, smoothing down the skirt on your thighs.

“Where you going?” Eddie asked, hand finding your wrist as you took a step. His eyes were concerned, wide as he looked up at you.

“Uhhh… bathroom,” you said, pulling away from him before you could say anything else. Something was shouted at you from him, but you ignored it, set on your path to locate the Harrington boy.

Clearing the stairs, you wandered down the hall, opening and shutting unlocked doors in your path. Just as you were about to give up on your search, a door opened to your left, a pair of hands pulling you in swiftly with the shut of door behind you.

“Jesus, Steve,” you whisper-shouted, throwing your fists at his chest, as he pulled you into him. His hands were on your waist, tight grip as he began to nuzzle his face into your neck.

“Missed you,” he muttered, pressing light kisses to the area. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as the wetness of his mouth found that sensitive spot under your ear.

“We, ah,” you moaned, lifting onto the bathroom counter as Steve began to take off your clothes, an article of his being thrown off in between every two items of your own. He left his jeans on, unbuttoned at the top. “We gotta be quick.”

“Lover boy’s here?”

His voice was strained as he began to kiss down your chest, his fingers pulling down your bra to mouth at your nipple, the cold air hardening it immediately. Your back arched at the touch, mouth dropping open as pleasure took over you.

His fingers dipped low, toying at the hem of your panties as his mouth licked at your breast, sucking and nipping lightly. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, urging a moan out of his mouth.

“Come on, Steve,” you rushed, pushing his head slightly as he teased you by pressing a few kisses to your sternum. His eyes were looking at yours, that familiar look glinting behind them as an eyebrow arched.

“Gotta beg for it, honey,” he teased, that nickname falling from his lips with a hint of sarcasm. He made fun of the way Eddie said it, hating the way he got to call you that in public. “You know how this works.”

You leaned back all the way, shoulder blades hitting the cool glass of the mirror. Your legs spread, inviting him in further as he fell to his knees. His fingers slowly pulled down your underwear, teasing in fashion as he pressed kisses to your legs where they got caught.

“Steve,” you dragged out, massaging his scalp. “Need it.”

“Need what?” He licked at the top of your thigh.

“I need you, Steve.”

“Steve?” He mocked, pressing a kiss right above your clit.

“Baby.” You corrected, trying to pull him in.

He leaned back slightly, pushing at your hands. “Uh uh.”

Fuck. Your head hit the glass, loud sound filling the room.

“Baby, I need you so bad,” you whined, spreading your legs even further. He kissed the side of your slit, wetness pressing at the corner of his mouth. “It hurts.”

He smirked, satisfied as he leaned in to your wet cunt, tongue diving in. He started out slow, tongue lapping up your wetness, dipping between your folds. It was different than the other times you had done this, normally rushed hand jobs given under bleachers, you bent down in the back of his car, sneaking into your bedroom in the middle hours of the night.

His tongue traced circles around your clit, massaging the bud as you nearly rose off the counter, whimpering at the press of his finger to your hole.

“Just like that, baby.”

You moaned, eyes rolling back as he moved his tongue side to side, head in tune with the movement. He was eating you like he was starved, sucking at your clit harshly, loud slurping noises filling the air. His finger slipped in, curling against your spongy wall, hitting that spot almost immediately.

You cried out, thighs quivering as a pool of wetness escaped you, hitting his tongue. He moaned at the taste of you, delving in deeper, tongue joining his finger inside of you. Another one of his digits entered, spreading you wide as he scissored them in and out, deep as they could go.

“I want you to cum for me, honey,” he whispered against you, flat of his tongue licking up your slit. You looked down to find him staring, face shiny with your slick. “Wanna taste you.”

You mewled at him, resting you thigh on his shoulder, hooking your ankle to bring him in closer. His response to it was loud, one of his hands leaving your thigh to press at the front of his pants from where he kneeled.

His movements increased, your orgasm drawing in closer as he fingered you, wet noises becoming louder. Your abdomen tightened, mind blanking as it coursed through you, mouth dropped open in a silent scream. You could feel him smirking at your cunt, tongue lightly lapping over your sensitive clit, laughing as you pushed him off of you.

He attempted leaning in once more, your hands pulling him up to you by his collar.

“We don’t have a lot of time, baby,” you said, hands pushing down his jeans in a rush you hadn’t seen before. His hands raised to his sides, letting you free him as his clothes were shoved to his mid thigh.

His cock sprung free, swollen and red, precum pooled at the tip as it hit the air. It was mouth watering, the sight in front of you, his dark thatch of hair nestling his cock, the sheer length of it needing to be felt everywhere.

Your hand began to work it, squeezing at the head, watching the liquid drip from the top. Steve’s breath became shallow, his head dropped low as he stared down at your hand.

“Fuck, honey, I’m not gonna last,” he shook his head, taking a step closer to you, a chaste kiss being pressed to your mouth.

He shook your hand from him, replacing it with his own as he lined himself up with you, other hand pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. Immediately, your knees locked at the side of his hips, full access given to him.

Slowly pressing in, the two of you groaned, eyes closing briefly as you sheathed him. His hips stuttered before he pressed to the hilt, waiting a moment before he thrusted again, the force of it shifting your hips on the counter.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Tell me how good it feels,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you rocked together. Your hand shot out, steadying yourself on the surface as items clattered off of the counter, falling to the floor.

“So fu-fucking good, baby.”

“You like when I fuck you, hon?”

“Love it, ah fuck, I love it, I love it.” Your rambles made no sense, babbling escaping your mouth as you became cock-drunk, mind only focused on him.

“I’m gonna make you mine,” he whispered into your hair, hips slamming into yours. He was close, you could tell by the deep breaths he took, the faltering of his hips as he tried to maintain a rhythm.

You are getting close yourself, his hand dipping low to rub circles at your clit, quick, in tune with his thrusts. It built between your legs, legs shaking as you drew your knee up his side. Another item went flying off the counter, his other hand shooting up to press on the counter as he neared his high.

“I’m already yours.”

With a low groan, he came, eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it, shallow thrusts riding out his orgasm. You followed his lead, the attention on your clit becoming too much in combination with his movements.

Catching your breath, he remained in you, his mouth pressed to the top of your head as you leaned into him, chest heaving. If the setting was different, you could fall asleep right then and there, safe and sound in his arms.

A loud knock on the door brought you out of your shared high. That ever so familiar voice sounded out through the door, calling out your name.

“You in there? Someone said they saw you,” Eddie called out, voice sounding worried. You shushed Steve as he pulled away from you, leisurely pulling his clothes on as you rushed, scared in your movements.

“I’m fine!” You called out, eyeing the way Steve shook his head at you, mouthing ‘No!’ His hands gripped at his own throat, tongue sticking out as he exaggerated a charade of throwing up. You made a face at him, yet following his lead. “I got sick ac-actually! Must’ve ate something bad, just give me a minute!”

There was a moment of silence, the subtle signs of Eddie behind the door.

“Uh.. alright. I’ll be downstairs, okay?” His footsteps were heard as they walked away. Steve turned to you, eyebrows cocked in amusement.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he laughed, dodging the hit you threw in his direction. “But it’s time for you to make your decision, hon.”

You looked at him funny, confused at where he was going. He leaned against the door frame, eyes running over your body as you pulled your shirt on.

“You said you’re already mine, so time to prove it,” he smirked, winking at you. You flushed in your face, suddenly becoming shy.

“Steve—I don’t even know what to sa—“

“Just go home, pretend you’re sick or something, and I’ll pick you up,” he said, walking towards you to grab your face between his hands. He pecked your nose, wide, brown eyes taking up his features.

“W-what about the party?” You were still on your high, voice shaking from the come down that started to take place.

“I don’t care,” he scoffed, laughing as he adjusted your bra strap. It poked out of your shirt, his careful fingers putting it back into place. “I’ll figure it out. What you have to worry about is being ready later.”

You opened your mouth to say something, immediately shutting it as Steve exited it, winking at you one last time. Moving into the hallway to go after him, he was gone, out of sight like he was never even there. You made your way down the steps, feet heavy as you saw your long haired boyfriend leaning against the banister.

He perked up when he saw you, standing to full attention as you neared him. You crossed your arms over your chest, avoiding the excessive eye contact he gave you.

“Hey honey,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His smile dipped when you moved away from it, faux smile of your own coming up to mask it.

“Sorry—I just… sorry,” you said, beginning to walk in front of him as you lead the way to his van.

“It’s okay,” he said, jogging slightly to catch up to him. He took your hand into his own, pulling it away from its perch on your chest. “We could do something, you know, to get your mind off of you being sick. Watch a movie at mine? Like normal?”

You stayed silent for a minute, thinking of your options. On one hand, you had Eddie, sweet, caring Eddie, bad boy presenting nerd, quite possibly the healthiest relationship you’d been in. But you were bored. On the other hand, there was Steve. Fucked like he loved you, pretty boy, not the brightest one, but God, did you love that about him.

It was now or never. You looked at Eddie, features melting as he smiled down at you, his toothy grin adorned with dimples. His curly hair fell around his face, brown eyes nearly black, huge on his face. He was perfect. Everything you had asked for in a boyfriend, and you got it.

“I think I’m just gonna go home, Eds. Not really feeling that good. That okay?” You avoided his eyes, that same guilt bubbling up.

“Yeah, honey. Whatever you want,” he pressed one more kiss to your head and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open <3

#I kinda like writing terrible!reader #shes fun #my writing #requests #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington smut #Steve harrington #brief Eddie Munson x you

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yunirgo · 1 month

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eddie munson x harrington!reader ; fluff

cw: mentions of reader having breasts and sexual activities, totally self-indulgent

thinking of harrington!reader whose body is covered in freckles and moles. you’ve got freckles of all shapes, sizes, and every single shade of brown known to man all over your body, just like your brother steve. it’s definitely your most noticeable feature and eddie loves it so much.

he loves to just stare at them when you two are talking, or when you’re laying your head on his naked chest. he counts (more like tries, he gets a different number every time) every single freckle and traces them as if he was drawing constellations on your face.

eddie loves to kiss the matching beauty marks you share with steve on your cheek and neck, especially the latter, just to make you squirm. he also loves finding hidden birthmarks, like the ones you have on your breasts and right in between your glutes.

he’s the happiest man alive when he goes down on you and, after making you climax, kisses all the moles you have on your thighs and calves. loves to tickle you by kissing every single freckle on your hands and arms just to listen to your giggles and watch your cheeks go red.

other times you’ll be talking to him and he’ll get distracted by the freckles on the top of your breasts, the boy just zones out.

he’s obsessed with them, so obsessed.

he’s not big on being a dad in the future, but if you were ever to be parents, he yearns for them to inherit each and every one of your beauty marks.

an: a little something i’ve been thinking for weeks because i love my moles and freckles and i’m single af😘. sorry for any mistakes, english isn’t my first language!! hope you like it:)

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x harrington!reader #stranger things blurb #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #yuni writes

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rustedhearts · 11 months

Text

the incident ♡ pt ii (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: in the aftermath of your fight with steve, you appear on the munsons’ doorstep in search of shelter and a friendly face. the munsons get a glimpse of the real you—and the version of steve hiding behind closed doors.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ part i, part iii ✶ the king of the ring ✶ main masterlist

the rockstar eddie setlist by @carolmunson

tags: angst, hurt (practically no comfort), stella and libby being besties, violence, a whole lot of crying, talk of domestic abuse-ish stuff.

malibu california, november 1992. the munson residence.

The Mustang's tires squealed over the slick brick of the Munson driveway with a speed that made even you wince. The gear clunked into park by your not-so-gentle hand, still unsteady and covered in snot. You wiped it on the skirt of your dress: billowy, soft pink cotton now stained with tears.

You flung the door open and stomped your feet to the ground, rushing to make it to the door. You weren't sure why you were so frantic. Maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you were worried Steve would follow. And you weren't sure you could look at Steve right now. You weren't sure you could stomach the sight of him.

Just as you reached the arched doorway of the Munson's looming mansion, lifting your hand to knock, the wood fell away to reveal a bare-chested and wide-eyed Eddie Munson.

"What the fuck is—Libby?"

You dropped your hand, sniffling. "Oh, hi Eddie."

You suddenly felt silly. Standing there in a disheveled, crumpled mess—hair astray, makeup soiled, dress collecting wet spots and wrinkles. Your shoes were strangling your feet. The brown belt around your waist was squeezing your lungs. And you had nothing. No purse, no house keys, no car of your own. Just Steve's brand new Mustang and a wobbling lip.

For a moment, Eddie just stared. His mouth fell agape, arm dropping from the doorway where he'd been preparing to lunge at some sort of paparazzi or other unwanted creep lurking in his driveway, more than ready to serve a stern scolding for streaking his newly-lain brick. But instead, there was you: swollen-nosed and sticky-cheeked, an unkempt version of the joyful girl he was used to seeing. Even when he knew you'd been fighting with Steve, Eddie had never seen you shed a tear or break a pout. You always kept a sugar-sweet poker face on for the public.

You were damn good at it too—nearly as good as his professionally-media-trained fiancée.

Eddie broke out of his stunned stupor at the sound of the latter's footsteps pattering behind him, slipper-clad and unprepared for what she was about to see.

"Ed, who was it?"

"Uh..." Eddie trailed off, stepping aside when Stella appeared beside him in a satin robe, tying the strings around her waist.

Stella, much like Eddie, paused. It seemed as though her entire body seized, like she'd just seen a splattered raccoon on the side of the road—pity and horror, all at once. You let your eyes fall to the stone steps, wiping your cheeks to freshen up a little. God, you felt so silly.

"Well, for god's sake, Munson, invite her in. Jesus, the poor thing's shaking!"

Stella swooped in, slipping her arm around your shoulders to push past her husband and guide you inside. She smelled delicate and expensive, her hand soft against your arm. She shook her head at Eddie, who flushed red as he swung the door closed and slid the lock.

"I'm sorry for showin' up like this unannounced," you murmured meekly, still avoiding their gazes as Stella gently guided the pair of you down on the cream-colored couch in the first living room. "I meant to call on the car phone, I just..."

Eddie carefully took the seat across from you, glancing at his fiancée over your head.

"Don't worry about it," Stella cooed, rubbing your arm, her own still draped over your back.

You nodded, wiping under your eyes. Your finger came away streaked in charcoal and sticky black. You wiped your hands together with a sigh, freshly manicured nails clacking together.

"Is everything okay?" Eddie offered, head tipping to see your face.

You took your lip between your teeth, scraping them over the plush flesh. You sniffled again, and it was as you dropped your head to your hands in your lap that the Munsons realized you were crying again. Eddie's head snapped toward Stella, who glared at him. Nice going, she mouthed over your head, tightening her hold on your frame against her body.

Eyes blown wide and cheeks flaming hot again, Eddie shuffled toward on the oversized armchair. "Fuck—shit, Libby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No," you chirped, voice strained with another cry. "Don't worry about, I-I'm okay."

You lifted your head halfway and flashed him a weak smile. Eddie's seemed strained in response—more a grimace than a grin. Stella rubbed your arm again, bringing your hair away from your face where it was beginning to cling to your cheeks.

"Do you want to take a bath? You can borrow some of my clothes, or we can have Tiffany go run out and get you some—"

"Oh gosh," you sighed, head shaking. "I don't want to be a bother. I-I'll take whatever you have."

Stella nodded, standing to her feet. "Alright, come on, I'll get you set up."

Eddie watched you walk side by side toward the double staircase: you a small, trudging, hunched figure and his fiancé a mess of poorly-concealed concern. She looked over her shoulder toward him as you ascended the stairs together, shooting him a look of panic. Eddie only ran his hand over his face and nodded in agreement.

The entire way up the stairs, you murmured more apologies and promised to be gone by tonight.

"Oh hush," Stella soothed as she guided you toward the guest wing. "You're staying. We'll make it a girl's night."

She opened the bathroom door, padding across the marble toward the clawfoot tub. You lingered like a child in the doorway and twisted your fingers behind your back.

"Are you sure—"

"Libby. I'm more than sure. I'll go get you something to wear, just get comfortable."

You stepped into the bathroom, aching to undo the straps on your heels and free your feet from their uncomfortable confines. Stella turned the faucet on, releasing a stream of hot water into the pristine white tub. She flashed you a smile as she headed your way toward the door. She came to a stop beside you, squeezing your shoulder.

"And whenever you wanna talk...I'm here, okay?"

You bobbed your head, matching her smile with teary eyes. Her hand slipped away from your arm, and she disappeared through the door. She returned a few moments later with a fluffy robe (light pink, clearly new, clearly purchased for a guest stay) and a silk pajama set: delicately patterned and embroidered with a designer logo.

You thanked her, set the items on the sink, and shed your body of its bearings. You kicked your heels toward the corner, spiteful and wishing to light them on fire. You dipped your feet into the tub and sank into the steaming water, sighing as it lapped at your bare body.

You rested your head back against the lip of the tub, cushioned with a bath pillow, and closed your eyes.

It was so quiet here. And there was no Steve.

♡ ♡

When you were sure you’d scrubbed all the remnants of your blowout with Steve from your body, you pulled the drain and let the water gurgle down. The pajamas Stella gave you were soft and freshly washed, and though there were sizing differences between the pair of you, they were far more comfortable than what you came in. Anything that didn’t smell like Steve was welcome.

You tied the robe into a ribbon around your waist, feet bare and toes curling across the carpet. You hugged your arms tight over your chest as you pattered down the staircase, still wary and uncertain. You didn’t feel unwelcome, but you certainly didn’t feel at home. Not to mention, Eddie was Steve’s friend. You wondered if he’d even believe you if you told him what happened.

But you didn’t want to talk about Steve right now. Right now, you just wanted to stop crying.

So, eyes still aching and stinging with old tears, you wandered into the living room to find Stella perched on Eddie’s lap, his hand running through her hair.

“Oh hey,” she greeted you, sitting up. “Everything okay?”

You bobbed your head, mustering a toothless smile. “Yeah, thank you.”

“You want something to eat?” Eddie asked, head tipping to find you around Stella.

You shrugged. “I’m alr—“

“Eddie’s got the fridge stocked at all times now that he’s beefing up,” Stella giggled, squeezing Eddie’s firm bicep.

Eddie’s mouth slipped into a grin, half-cocked and charming. “What can I say? I’m giving Harrington a run for his money.”

Your giggle was faux and cracked somewhere in the middle. Stella’s smile slipped, rubbing her fiancé’s arm for a moment more before sliding to her feet. Eddie wished he could swallow the mention of his friend’s name. If the way your face crumbled and your eyes welled up held any indication of what happened between you two—Eddie figured it was best not to mention your boyfriend’s name at all.

“Or,” Stella sung excitedly, looping her arm through yours. “We can go have some of that champagne we just opened.”

You nodded, eyes meeting hers briefly. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The pair of you headed to the kitchen, Eddie’s big, sweeping steps following suit. You took a seat at one of the leather stools flanking the marble island, placing your elbows on the smooth countertop to play with your nails. Stella clinked around the kitchen, pulling the bottle of Dom from its ice bath, locating two champagne flutes in a cupboard nearby. They clinked against the marble when she set them down.

"Let me open it, honey," Eddie cooed, quickly replacing Stella's hands on the chilled bottle of bubbly.

"I had it, babe," Stella huffed, though her tone had a dash of something gooey to it.

You smiled softly when Eddie leaned over and kissed her cheek, loud and quick. "I know."

Eddie popped the cork off with precision, the loud explosion of air quickly disintegrating, replaced by the 'glug, glug' trickle of champagne filling the flutes. When they were even and spritzing sparks, Eddie fished them from the counter and presented one to each of you.

"Ladies."

You cracked another smile, sniffling as you accepted the drink. "Thank you."

Stella shook her head, affection smeared across her face. She pressed another kiss to Eddie's waiting, puckered lips, and rubbed his bare arm again. "Alright, get outta here, Munson. It's a girl's night."

Eddie didn't argue. Instead, he pressed another kiss to Stella's neck, head tipping to fit the nook, and turned to you with gentle eyes.

"Shout if y' need me, 'kay?"

Stella, beaming despite the eye roll, slid to mirror your stance and rest her elbows on the island. "'Kay."

Eddie shuffled out of the room, and in his absence you sipped your champagne with tiny gulps. Stella pressed hers against her cheek, nails gleaming under the bright white glow of the kitchen chandelier. She watched you awhile, silently pondering. You tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear as you set the glass down.

"Sure you don't want anything to eat?"

You shook your head, nail tracing the grain of the marble. "No, I'm okay."

"Because," Stella said, setting her glass down and twirling toward the double-doored fridge. "I meant it about Eddie keeping stock. I mean...four pounds of bacon? The man is insane."

The shiny steel doors swung open to reveal—just as Stella said—a fully-stocked fridge. An array of milks, juices, power and energy drinks, sodas, produce, dairy products, and all sorts of snacks revealed themselves to you. And though your stomach hollowed with hunger and sat like an owl's nest in a tree trunk, you couldn't fathom the idea of eating. You worried the taste of food on your tongue would trigger the bile that's been resting in your throat.

"I'm okay," you repeated, another small smile gracing your mouth. "Promise."

Stella gently closed the door until they suctioned shut. She returned to the island with a much smaller bout of enthusiasm. You felt horrible for mellowing the mood. You felt horrible for intruding in their home. You felt horrible for bringing them into this mess—a mess that, at the moment, they still knew nothing about. You wondered if Steve's blood was still on the car.

Taking another sip of her champagne, Stella inched closer to you. "Can I braid your hair?"

Your eyes flittered her way with swift surprise. She flashed a sheepish but hopeful grin, shoulders shrugging under silk.

"Oh, um...sure. That'd be nice."

Setting her glass down again, Stella clasped her hands together. "Okay, I'll be right back!"

She returned with a brush and hair ties, and situated herself behind your stool to approach your hair. The brush whooshed through the strands, scraping your back through the soft, terry pink robe. You suddenly felt like a Barbie. You suddenly weren't thinking of Steve.

She sectioned your hair in two, fingers delicately weaving. The hair ties plucked and snapped, and finally wrapped around the ends of two neat braids falling down your back. Stella smoothed them behind your shoulders and stepped back.

"There."

You swept your hands over the braids, damp and ridged before turning over your shoulder with a smile. "Thank you, Stella."

The other girl nodded, hand returning to her glass once more. "'Course. Now come on, we're watching Sixteen Candles in the screening room."

♡ ♡

You barely stayed awake during the movie. Eyes heavy and aching, fluttering closed between scenes only to snap open ten minutes later. By the time the credits rolled, your champagne had been finished and refilled twice, and you were more than half asleep. Stella, wide-awake and still waning with concern, guided you back to the guest room.

It was there that you snapped from slumber. You stirred in the sheets, cool and clean and crisp Egyptian cotton—but not yours. The pillow beside you was empty, perfectly plump and fluffed and missing the shape of someone's head. Steve's head. The room was void of his smell. That sweet, minty musk of nighttime. That soft, gentle warmth of his body winding down. Your heart wept for it.

And so did you, eyes welling and flooding with tears once again. You buried your face in the pillow to soften your cries and force sleep, but you only soaked the silk and clogged your nose.

You just wanted to call him. You just wanted to hear his voice, those whimpered apologies. You knew he was sorry, of course you did. He hadn't meant to do it. But he did. And he couldn't take that back with more teary-eyed apologies and petulant pouts. He couldn't fix it with flowers or kisses. This was different. He'd gone too far this time.

Worst of all, your body seemed to be in a tug-of-war contest between furious and heartbroken. You weren't sure which would win. The confusion of it all elicited a restlessness like no other.

You kicked the covers off and reached for the robe again. Fastening it around your body, you huffed as you headed toward the door. Quietly brewing and going over every moment of the day in your head, you wandered back to the first floor and into the kitchen. Even encased in the blue darkness of well past midnight, the Munson mansion seemed dauntingly massive.

"Couldn't sleep?"

A sharp gasp shot from your mouth, body jolting at the sight of Eddie's shadowed figure at the island.

Hand over your frantic heart, you sighed and stepped into the room. "God, you scared me."

He cracked a lopsided grin, teeth shining in a sliver of moonlight. "Sorry."

You slid into the stool beside him, wooden legs scraping on the tile. "No, been tossing for hours."

Eddie paused a moment. "Want some ice cream?"

You glanced at him. "Sure."

Eddie pushed away from the island, shuffling to the freezer. He pulled the drawer open and fished out a freezer-burnt tub. "Lucky for you, we've got the real shit now that Stella's off set."

A tub of strawberry ice cream found its way between the pair of you, two spoons forming craters in the frozen treat. For a while, the darkness of the kitchen was quiet. You dug in and swallowed it down with no words to pair it with. You knew your eyes were still wet, that dampness still gathered under your nose. But you just couldn't bring yourself to say it.

Swallowing around his spoon, Eddie pulled it away and licked it clean before letting it clink against the marble.

"Alright," he sighed, heavy and dad-like. "Give it to me straight, kid. What'd he do?"

You turned away, watching the smooth pink cream form a rolling ball with the pull of your spoon in the paper carton. You wanted to tell him; just as badly as you wanted to tell Stella. But part of you worried what might happen if you did. Part of you worried they'd doubt you.

"Hey." Eddie reached out, cold fingers tapping your hand. "You okay?"

You nodded once. Head bobbing in slow jerking successions until it dropped into your hand, palm over eyes. God, you were so sick of crying.

"I don't know," you croaked.

Eddie shifted in his stool, leather creaking under his sweats. "You—I mean...did you get in a fight?"

You sniffled, nodding. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at him. "It was so bad. W-we were saying such h-horrible things."

"Ah," Eddie scoffed, shrugging. "Nothin' you can't take back, I'm sure."

You shook your head, lifting it to swipe away more tears and snot. You were trying your best not to soil the robe. You rolled the sleeves to your elbows to avoid it. "N-no, not this t-time. I don't think s-so."

You could barely breathe. Saying it out loud, holding the entire night on the tip of your tongue and knowing how horrible it would sound coming out—it hit you then. What Steve had really done this time.

Eddie paused, and you reached in with your spoon for another bite of ice cream when Eddie's hand touched your arm. Halting its journey toward the dessert, Eddie's fingers looped around your wrist and brought it across the counter. Gentle but determined, Eddie flipped your arm to reveal the back plain of bone.

"What the hell is this?"

You turned away again. "Nothing—"

Eddie dropped your arm, taking quick steps toward the light switch to flick it on. He moved so swiftly that you barely had time to react before he'd taken your arm again and pushed the pink sleeve up to your bicep. In the white glow of the spotlights, more of Steve's handiwork was clear as day.

You sighed, twisting your wrist in Eddie's palm. "Eddie—"

"Guys, it's one in the morning what are we—ooh, ice cream."

Stella trudged into the room, eyes half-lidded with bleary slumber, clearly still teetering in and out of consciousness. She swiped the spoon from Eddie's place and reached for the carton, holding her robe closed with her other hand—but paused at the sight before her.

"What's going...on?" Her mouth hung open, a spoonful of soupy strawberry cream hovering nearby—but she stopped, taken aback by the fresh, vibrant colors on your arm.

Eddie's eyes were hard, teeth clenched tight. You were frozen in your seat.

"He fuckin' hit her."

You pulled your arm away, tugging the robe down. "No, he...he just—he grabs me too hard sometimes. I-it's not—that's not—that wasn't—"

"Libby," Stella's tone took a new smoothness, coaxing and gentle but sharp-edged with panic. "Did Steve hit you?"

"No," you insisted, eyes flicking between the couple. Eddie's hand swept over his face, leg bouncing beneath the counter. "No, I swear."

Please believe me trembled in the cadence of your voice. Your eyes rounded pleadingly, blurring with more tears that pained to shed. Stella dropped the spoon and rounded the island, placing her hand on your shoulder.

"It's okay, I believe you. Come on, let's sit over here."

Arm looped around your shoulders, Stella steered you toward the breakfast nook: white linen cushions, clean wooden table, a vase of fresh lilies. You gazed over your shoulder toward the abandoned rockstar at the island, and you knew he didn't agree with his fiancée.

"Okay, just...tell us what happened. And we will listen," Stella insisted, glancing pointedly Eddie's way where he still sat hunched and clearly itching to say something. "Without interruption. Right?"

Eddie huffed, whirling around in his stool. He eased against the counter and crossed his arms, shrugging. The "right" he parroted was clipped and tight.

You tried to remind yourself that it was Steve he was mad at.

"Okay, so...earlier today...at the gym...I was talking to another man. About nothing, just...stuff, you know? Just making small talk."

Stella nodded attentively. "Okay."

Eddie looked like he already knew where this story was going.

"Steve gets so jealous," you huffed, eyes rolling. You sounded congested and sad. "So, he hit him. Knocked him out cold for a second—all because the guy made me laugh!"

You pulled the sleeves of your robe down again, wiping at your cheeks. You felt bare with your mistakes worn so clearly on your arm.

"So, I let 'im have it. We fought the whole drive home. Just screaming at each other. And we fought when we got home, too. We both say mean things when we're upset. Sometimes it feels like we're competing, seeing who can hurt each other worse."

You'd never said that out loud to anyone before. For the first time, it felt like you were lending a piece of your life—one you usually kept hidden behind closed doors—to someone else for safe keeping. You felt a little lighter already.

"He called me crazy," you said, fiddling with the terry cloth fabric around your fist. "And...I told him he was just like his father."

Stella furrowed her brows, clearly missing pieces of the story. You glanced at her, anticipating this gap. "Like his father?" she pressed.

You pulled a thread loose on the cuff of your sleeve. "Steve's father was...abusive. To him and his mom growing up."

Stella's nod was slow, understanding. She didn't press any further, and you didn't expand. It wasn't your story to tell. Eddie readjusted his stance, sitting up a little straighter. His poker face reminded you of the days he came to the gym when him and Stella were apart. How desperate he was for release, but refused to let the pain of losing her show.

"I pushed him, you know? I...I was egging him on—I-I shouldn't have said that—"

"Libby," Eddie interjected lowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tell me he didn't put his hands on you."

You deflated with another sigh. "No, no! He just...he had me against the wall and he...punched the wall. But it wasn't—"

“Hon.” Stella’s hand slid across the table to touch yours. “You know that’s not any better, right? You know that’s just one step away.”

You knew what she meant. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve told it to yourself. One day, he’s gonna hit you.

“But I shouldn’t ‘ve said that—“

“It doesn’t matter what you said, Libby. Nothing justifies this. Nothing.”

"This guy is fuckin' rich," Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "Wait until I get ahold of him. Fuckin' prick."

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell Eddie it wasn't worth it, that you didn't want to make a big deal of something small. But the words died in your throat. It was worth it, and it was a big deal. You couldn't keep excusing Steve anymore.

Sighing, Stella squeezed your hand and shuffled toward the end of the breakfast nook. "How about we all just try to get some sleep, alright? We can talk more in the morning and...figure this all out."

You nodded. Eddie just crossed his arms again. Stella, giving your hand another comforting pat, slipped out of the breakfast nook. The rubber pads of her slippers whooshed over the tile toward Eddie, the kiss she popped on his cheek delicate. He visibly softened a bit at her gentle affections.

"Off to sleep, kids."

♡ ♡

In the morning, your eyes ached, and a dull, incessant pounding nestled in your temples. Stella woke before you and left a change of clothes on the dresser: something comfortable, something clean. The fabrics smelled like laundry soap and eased your aches.

And the house was...quiet. It felt nice to wake up to quiet. It'd been too long since you had a morning of quiet.

You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush in the guest bathroom, fresh from the store packaging. You trailed downstairs, dreading the conversation that awaited with the couple in the kitchen.

Stella perched on the edge of the island, flipping through a magazine, eating berries from a bowl. Eddie stood at the stove, long raven locks knotted messily at the nape of his neck, flipping pancakes with a shiny silver spatula. They sizzled on the over-buttered pan and filled the room with a hint of hot vanilla.

"Oh, good, you found them! You look cute," Stella pipped, hopping off the counter to greet you.

"Yeah, thanks so much," you replied, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

Eddie peeked over his shoulder, sliding a pancake from the stove to a plate waiting on the counter beside him. The pile stacked high. Three plates and appropriate utensils waited at the breakfast nook. Staying at the Munson residence wasn't too shabby. Still, you couldn't help the stiffness to your limbs, your body's uneasy preparation for an uneasy conversation.

"Mornin', bookworm," Eddie called.

You cracked a breezy grin, trailing toward the bowl of berries. "Morning, guys."

Stella trailed to the fridge and filled three glasses with orange juice. You lingered near the fruit but didn't touch—it felt so strange staying with other people. Staying with people who were all you had right now.

"Hope you're ready for the best pancakes you've ever had," Eddie boasted, spinning around with a plate full of wobbling cakes.

Rolling her eyes and balancing the glasses in her hands, Stella drifted toward the breakfast nook. "He's exaggerating. But they are pretty great."

"You wound me, Rink."

You settled beside Stella on the end, across from Eddie. He slapped two cakes on a two plates for you and Stella, four for himself. Stella wasn't kidding about the "bulking up." As you reached for the syrup, you caught shape of the pancakes: hearts. Or...they were clearly supposed to be.

"Thought they might cheer you up," Eddie said, clocking your pause. "I know how the ladies love 'em." His head tipped toward his fiancée.

You glanced between them, grinning. "Thank you, Eddie."

You cut two pats of butter and poured a river of sticky syrup onto your pancakes, reaching for the fork and knife and getting two bites in before the doorbell rang. Heads turning, the three of you paused.

"Probably just a package—"

The doorbell rang again. And again. Soon, the gongs became interrupted by more pressing. Ding, ding, ding, ding. The pounding came soon after, a heavy fist banging into the glass—by then, everyone knew it wasn't a package.

Eddie tossed his fork toward his plate, table wobbling with the swiftness of his stance. Napkin crumpled and tossed aside, he stalked through the kitchen with intimidating purpose. You turned to Stella, and it only took a split second for her to read through the mask.

You were scared.

"Come on, let's go upstairs."

Skittering away from your barely-touched breakfast, the pair of you rushed the staircase arm in arm. Your heart was in your throat, throbbing with every stomp up the steps. You were inches from throwing up, and it took everything in you to swallow it down past the tears stinging your eyes.

Stella took a sharp turn into the master bedroom, tugging you along with her own look of wide-eyed panic. You whipped around as she reached for the door.

“I know she’s here, Munson. Let me the fuck in.”

Steve’s voice trailed the length of the home, menacing and gruff. You took a step back, and Stella shut the door.

You turned the lock.

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