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#stranger things x reader
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bf!steve who likes you threading your fingers through his hair when he kisses you, when he's got you sitting on his dresser and he's standing between your legs, lightly scratching your nails along the back of his neck, tugging at his loose curls, when you're both trying to pull each other closer and closer, his hands on your waist almost slipping you off, but he'd never let you go, you both can just never be close enough, who hates showering alone because when you're there you wash his hair, you kiss his back, you let him touch and kiss every inch of your skin, he likes how domestic showering together feels when it's completely innocent too, just the both of you taking turns under the hot shower, sharing soap, giggling and being soft with each other
who likes watching you read with your legs thrown over his lap, hand tracing up and down your thighs while he just contently watches you read every word, only stopping to tell him when something really good happens, he adores when you do that, when you get all excited to tell him something, some twist or line that you just have to share with him, who stays up and talks with you after sex, your both a little flushed and tired but he loves how sleepy you sound, how you rest your head on his shoulders, how neither of you have bothered getting dressed yet, he likes telling you how pretty you look right now, he likes brushing his fingers over your stomach and kissing your neck
who loves hearing all your gossip but hates if anyone is even slightly to cold to you, it's okay stevie I don't think they meant to be mean- let me find their number and show them what mean really is, I was a bitch in high school, I know what I'm doing, who gets protective over you, in silly ways like making sure you're never cold even if it means he's shivering because he gave you his jacket, throwing his arm around you when anyone else flirts with you and kissing you stupid in front of them so they get the hint, you're his, his pretty girl, his sweetheart, who kisses you all sweaty after he's gone running, because you said you didn't mind, you said you kinda liked it, so now the first thing he does when he gets home is finding you and covering you in sweaty hot kisses <3
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say-al0e · 2 days
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Cling
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Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​
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luveline · 1 day
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hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3
kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k
“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 
Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 
“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 
“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 
Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 
Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.
“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 
“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 
“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 
She grins. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome. You all done?” 
“Yep.” 
“Not hungry anymore?” 
“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 
“Thanks, beautiful.” 
She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 
Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 
Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 
She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 
“I’m tired.” 
“It’s not bed time.” 
She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 
“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 
“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 
“That sound fun or what?” 
She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 
He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 
You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 
“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 
“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 
You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 
Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 
I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 
“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 
“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 
“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 
Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 
“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 
“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 
“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 
“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 
He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 
“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 
“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 
He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”
“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.
“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 
“I didn’t say one!” 
“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 
“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”
You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 
“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 
Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 
Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 
Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 
Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 
If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 
You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 
You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 
“Oh, no,” Avery says. 
“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 
They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 
“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 
Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 
“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 
You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 
“Gonna get Beth changed.” 
“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 
It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 
“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 
The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 
Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 
“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 
“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 
“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 
“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 
Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 
“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 
This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 
“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 
She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 
“Sorry,” she laughs. 
“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 
Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 
“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.
He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 
“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 
“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 
Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 
Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 
“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 
You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 
He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 
“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 
You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 
Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 
“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 
“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 
“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 
He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 
“Feels too good to be true.” 
“My turn tonight,” he says. 
“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 
“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”
“I want them too,” you say. 
“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 
“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 
Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 
“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 
“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  
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no thoughts just riding steve after a stressful day at work
smut 18+, mentions of alcohol, adorable boyfriend steve, reader on top, penetration
You’re still cursing as you swing the apartment door open, letting it close in a much harsher fashion than normal. You had spent the entire day irritated. Your boss, your coworkers, and even your clients had managed to piss you off. You kick your heel off, letting them fly into the corner by the door as you head to the kitchen.
You had spent the car ride practically dreaming about the wine you were about to have. The glass has barely touched your lips when a voice perks up.
“Tough day?” Steve calls from the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in hand. Something in you melts when you see him and your feet carry you over to him on instinct.
He sets the book down as you climb into his lap, putting your wine glass next to his kicked up feet on the table.
“It was horrible.” He rubs your back as you lay your head on his shoulder, taking a few breaths. You don’t wanna direct your anger to Steve so you have to calm down just a little.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.” His fingers tangle with yours as you sit up to face him. Steve has always been pretty, you knew that the day you met him, but he was especially gorgeous on nights like this. Maybe it was the pure domesticity of it. Your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, sitting on your couch in his pyjamas on a Friday night. You almost couldn’t believe it.
“I’m just glad you’re here.” You relax against him once more.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” His big hands rub up and down the exposed skin of your legs.
“Honestly it was so stressful just talking about it might piss me off again.” You mumble against his neck.
“Do you wanna talk about it while you ride me? That always works wonders for your stress.” You can hear the smile in his voice but the offer is sincere.
“Yeah?” You confirm, already excited at the idea.
“Go ahead sweetheart.” He winks as you shift his pants down just enough to reveal his cock. He’s already half hard so it only takes a few strokes to get him ready.
Ever the gentleman, Steve is already bunching your pencil skirt around your waist, eyes dark behind his glasses when he sees your red thong.
“What’s this?” He plays with the fabric over your hip, licking his lips.
“It doesn’t show panty lines.” You smile as you sit up and pull the fabric to the side to take the tip of his cock.
Steve is big. Bigger than most, so riding him is usually a challenge. Luckily, it’s one that you’re always up for.
“There you go baby…” He groans as you sink down on him, already soaked.
“God this is exactly what I needed.” You moan as you start to move up and down. You take it nice and slow, letting yourself adjust. There’s no urgency in your movements. You have all the time in the world.
“So, what pissed you off?” Steve kisses along your collarbone between words, making you giggle at the sensation.
“Just-just my coworkers being stupid. Can you believe Danielle didn’t overnight the contracts I gave her? Then Mr. Zelleman got mad at me for it! It was so-so stupid.” As Steve helps you move up and down on him, you start to care less and less about work and more about how incredible his cock feels.
“So stupid…” He mumbles in agreement, kissing at your neck in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. You can’t be bothered about it though, as you start to move faster. Your stomach tightens in a very familiar way. Steve’s hands tighten their grip on yours, hips jutting up to meet your own. You press your lips against his desperately as your orgasm hits you. Pleasure that you can hardly contain shoots through you as the warmth of Steve’s orgasm fills you. As the euphoria fades, so does your energy.
You slump against Steve’s chest, his arms coming around to hug you. There’s not a thought in your head as you attempt to catch your breath.
“Feel better?” He asks.
“…About what?”
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Older! Sugar daddy Eddie???
Warning: includes daddy kink and dom older Eddie. When I wrote this I thought of Older!Eddie with younger reader but it isn't specified.
Eddie is older now and the band is starting to really get noticed. Once that happens, he will buy you anything you want. You don’t even have to ask for it. If he so much as hears you mention wanting something then he will make sure you have it.
It gets to the point where he just gives you his card. It’s early morning and you’re standing in the kitchen as he scrambles to get ready to go to the studio. He’s about to run out the door, but he stops to grab his wallet, pulling out his card.
“Why don’t you go and buy something nice to wear for me, yeah?” He placed the card on the countertop next to your morning cup of coffee before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He’s out the door before you can even try to protest.
You don’t go too overboard with his card. You buy a dress, heels, and a black lace lingerie set, that you knew he would die seeing you in. He is home much earlier than you expected that night. “You’re home early,” you say, hopping off the couch to greet him with a kiss.
“Made sure to end practice early. Wanted to see you sooner.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhmmm been dying to get home to you." He says as his hands glide along your curves. "Why don’t you show me what you bought?”
Eddie sits in front of you on the foot of the bed as you model your new dress and new heels. “It’s been awhile since I’ve bought a dress. Do you like this one? I couldn’t decide between this one and the red one I found.”
“You used daddy’s card, right?” Heat rushes to your cheeks as the nickname falls from his lips without a care.
“I-I..Yes. I did.”
“Then you should’ve bought them both, baby. I wouldn’t have minded. It’s my job to spoil you.”
“I’ll get it next time, then. Do you like this one, though?” You ask giving him a little spin.
“Of course, baby. You look gorgeous. Always so pretty for me. Did you get anything else?”
"I did get one more thing" You say teasingly as you slowly slip the dress off to reveal the lingerie set underneath. “I got this just for you, daddy.”
He groans at your words. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you princess? Lay down on the bed for me, let me reward my good girl.”
Another idea I think Eddie would be obsessed with after being able to spoil you is paying for you to get your nails done.
Eddie loves your nails so fucking much. The way they feel in his hair, or scratching down his back, the way they look against his, the way they look wrapped around his cock....
When it’s time to get a new set you make sure to go to Eddie for his opinion.
“What color should I get for my nails next, Ed?” You watch him think for a second.
“How about blood red? That’ll look really pretty.”
That’s exactly the shade you pick at the nail salon. Before you head home, though, you make a quick stop at Ulta to pick out a matching lipstick shade. You apply the lipstick in the car right before walking into the house so Eddie will see it right as you walk through the door.
“I got my nails done, made sure to do the color you suggested,” you hold out your hands in front of you to show off your nails. It took him a second, but he finally took his eyes off of your lips and looked at your hands, and when he notices his eyes widen slightly. “I liked the color so much I went out and got a matching lipstick. Don’t worry, I used your card for it, too daddy.”
Eddie takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to give your hand a kiss. “Good girl.”
It’s not long before you find yourself kneeling down in front of Eddie on the couch, feeling the rug beneath your knees. His gaze is focused on your hand as you pump his cock. Eddie's head falls back in a groan as you kiss the tip, leaving behind a smudge of lipstick.
Eddie's head doesn’t stay tipped back for long, he lifts his head just in time you watch you sink your mouth down on his cock. “Shit baby,” he groans as he watches in awe, his mouth agape as your maroon-red lips move along his cock. You take him all the way down to the base, gagging slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat.
His hand is in the back of your hair, pulling you off his cock. “You alright sweetheart?”
A string of spit is still on your lips as you blink up at him. The lipstick you have on is smeared all over your mouth. The rest of your lipstick had transferred onto the base of his cock. You nod pathetically "want you to come in my mouth, want you in my throat daddy please.”
Eddie's hand in your hair shoving you right back down onto his cock. Both of his hands collect your hair into a ponytail as he begins to fuck your throat. The size of his cock has you gagging around him. The squeeze of your throat around his length makes sinful moans leave his mouth.
“Such a good girl for your daddy--fuck doll. Taking daddy’s cock so well down your throat. Gonna make me cum. Fuck you want that don't you doll? Want me to cum down your throat?”
You let out a moan in response and Eddie is done for, spilling down your throat with broken moans. He pulls you up off of your knees and pulls you into a kiss.
Let’s just say…he's always eager to spoil his baby...in anyway he can
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urwhorecrux · 2 days
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☆ steve + breeding kink :)
as said before he obviously wants a big family, so when you allow him to fuck you without a condom for the first time, nothing has ever felt better than that to him. when you wrap your legs around his waist begging him to go deeper AND cum in you? he cums more than usual, like a lot actually. you're kinda just stuck there as while he's still thrusting inside you, milking him for every drop. he's panting and muttering against the skin of your neck, softly gazing at you as he comes down from his high.
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robinsno1lesbian · 3 days
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𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐑.𝐁.
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: rockstar robin™️ thoughts
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), mention of alcohol & weed, nipple play, oral, fingering & finger sucking, strap-on-sex, phone sex, mutual (?) masturbation, semi-public sex, hair pulling, implied voyeurism & exhibitionism, light spanking, didn’t beta-read and it’s showing.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: god damn that’s a long list of warnings. anyway, thank you @aylasology for your rockstar!robin content and for bringing me back to tumblr. definitely check out ayla’s rockstar robin content here !! :)
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⭒ hear me out: her signing your tits. anyway-
⭒ rockstar!robin eating you out from behind. that’s it. that’s the thought.
⭒ like???? her hands massaging your ass, her rings leaving marks on your skin while she’s absolutely devouring you: hair up in a messy bun, her tongue buried deep inside of you, spit and slick drooling down her chin.
⭒ good girls go to heaven, bad girls go backstage type of situation.
⭒ rockstar!robin has her nipples pierced idc 👁️👁️
⭒ the way she has to be at least a little bit muscular from spending hour on stage, jumping while holding her guitar and shit…
⭒ she will lift you up and pin you against a wall.
⭒ and fuck you against it while she’s holding your legs.
⭒ eating her out in the back of her tour bus? yes.
⭒ her hand guiding you by the back of your head, occasionally pulling your hair, while the other is holding a joint.
⭒ “yes. a little lower…yeah- fuck, right there!”
⭒ and she is vocal. letting you hear all those low groans and praise for you while you’re making her feel good.
⭒ her fucking you in front of a full length mirror in the backstage area???? putting her fingers in your mouth and watching you gag on them??? while she’s pounding you from behind???
⭒ no but what if i said ruined orgasm? her leaving you on the edge as she goes up on stage?
⭒ i mean?? imagine her rasping “stay here, i’ll be right back” against your lips?!
⭒ and when she does come back, sweat stained and breathless and ready for you, she lays you down and makes sure to make up by putting her mouth on you.
⭒ even with her head between your thighs she still talks dirty.
⭒ “fuck you taste so good. you’re so wet for me too, god. waited all this time for me to come back and fuck you so good”
⭒ kissing her tattoos? kissing her tattoos!
⭒ the phone sex when she’s on tour and you’re waiting for her to come back? fucking phenomenal.
⭒ she calls you whenever you’re not with her so she can hear your voice and so she can hear you cum through the phone
⭒ her voice is more than enough to get you off.
⭒ “that’s it, that’s a good girl. touch yourself for me, hm?”
⭒ but she prefers to take you on tour with her, prefers it when you’re around so she can ruin you in various hotel rooms. or her tour bus. or the dressing rooms.
⭒ oh and the eye contact while she’s performing??
⭒ she knows how much you love to watch her perform: her long, delicate fingers around the guitar neck, the way she moves, the way her muscles flex.
⭒ and you record all of her performances on your camcorder.
⭒ that same camcorder that has a video of her fucking you on it.
⭒ “so good for me. god you’re so fucking pretty like this”
⭒ imagine her taking her rings off to fuck you, sliding them off of her fingers one by one.
⭒ she’s definitely into leaving marks all over your body. whether it’s hickeys on your neck or love bites all over your thighs while whispering “mine” against your skin.
⭒ plus her nails will always leave crescent shaped marks in your hips & thighs after she’s done eating you out.
⭒ sucking rockstar!robin off backstage.
⭒ “such a good girl, getting that strap ready for your pretty pussy”
⭒ she definitely enjoys to make you beg for it. on your knees, with mascara staining your cheeks and her hand on your cheek.
⭒ “you want it bad, don’t you pretty girl? come on, say it. say it for me. tell me what you want”
⭒ she definitely enjoys watching you.
⭒ and it’s your favorite way of getting her attention too.
⭒ she’s sitting on a bed in a motel room, trying to write down new songs?? you will start humping one of her pillows until she gives you the attention you desperately crave. she’s pacing back and forth, trying to figure out a guitar riff?? you will sit down on the edge of a table and spread your legs for her. she’s rolling a joint?? you will sit on her lap and ride her thigh.
⭒ you’re always wearing her clothes or tour merch and she fucking loves it.
⭒ she prefers taking it off though.
⭒ and fucking you in nothing but her band shirt, pulling you back by the hair as she snaps her hips forward over and over again.
⭒ her mumbling “take it” in your ear as she pulls your back flush against her front by the hair???
⭒ she takes you to the recording studio sometimes. to “motivate her”, she claims.
⭒ when, in reality, it’s just so she can drag you into the nearest bathroom and finger fuck you while covering your mouth with her hand.
⭒ “we don’t want them to hear how much of a desperate slut you are, do we?”
⭒ she stuffs your lace panties into her pocket when she’s done, leaving you flustered and with no other option but to go commando for the rest of the day.
⭒ easier access for her though….
⭒ she takes you to most of her shows so you can watch her perform, plays her newest songs for you on her guitar and dedicates them all to you <3<3
⭒ when the scratch marks on her back are showing through her tank top on stage >>>
⭒ that woman cannot keep her mouth shut and you love it.
⭒ literally talks you through it over and over again until you’re an overstimulated mess for her.
⭒ “oh, right there? yeah? want me to keep going? use your words for me baby”
⭒ she carries polaroid pictures of you with her wherever she goes.
⭒ plus she constantly takes more pictures for her collection: your body in pretty lingerie she got you or in nothing but one of her oversized shirts, the marks on your thighs, you bent over her lap…
⭒ you love how rough she gets with you after a long night out.
⭒ (after you spent half the night teasing her, grinding your ass against her while you’re dancing, only for you to feel the hard bulge of her strap through her pants.)
⭒ both of you slightly tipsy as she pushes you against the wall the second you’re behind closed doors, lifting one of your legs around her hip as you grind against her desperately.
⭒ “such a dirty slut. can’t stop yourself from grinding your ass against me all night. did you want this? hm? bet you wanted me to fuck you right there on the dance floor for everyone to see!”
⭒ and while she would never actually do it, she loves to be vocal about her fantasies in moments like these.
⭒ “bet you would love to get fucked in front of all of them hm? next time i might bend you over on stage, let them see your face when you cum all over my strap. they all suspect that you’re my girlfriend already. they should know you’re my pretty slut too”
⭒ and then she spins you around, bends you over and fucks you against the wall with her hands holding you by the hair.
⭒ and slapping your ass whenever you’re squirming for her.
⭒ “hold still, pretty girl. let me make you feel good”
🎸⋆⭒˚。⋆
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morning-man-fight · 20 hours
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final-source-focus · 3 days
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thelovelylolly · 2 days
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could you do a robin buckley x theatre kid!reader?? i think it would be so cute if maybe robin has seen her in the school musicals and stuff but was always too shy to talk to her!!
Spotlight
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summary: robin sees you in one of your shows and gets a little crush on you... warnings: fem! reader, theatre kid *vine boom sound*, I wrote this on my phone while at my show’s rehearsal too lol (which means this is also not proofread) word count: 1k notes: as a theatre kid, thank you for this request lol
Robin didn’t want to necessarily see the musical, but if it meant getting out of math class, she didn’t mind. She was sat in the middle of the audience and thought she was going to take a quick nap, then the music started and you came out. Alone, in the spotlight.
As you started to sing, Robin was immediately hooked. Not on the show, on you. Your voice, your presence, your looks. She felt her heart race and her face blush as you continued with your song, pacing the stage as your cast-mates joined you.
She didn’t even think about a nap or anything else while you were on stage. Your performance was captivating, holding not only Robin’s attention, but everyone in the audience’s. Even if you weren’t singing or apart of a scene, if you were in the background, Robin’s eyes were on you.
Intermission came and went, but Robin couldn’t wait for act two to start and to see you perform more.
Robin didn’t consider herself a big theater fan. She loved movies, but she wasn’t interested in seeing live theater that often. Maybe if Steve or the kids dragged her, just not on her own free time.
Act two came and went. Robin stood with everyone else as they applauded, her eyes locked on you as you took your bow. You and your cast-mates left the stage and the lights came back up. Robin filed out of her row and into the isle, following her peers out of the auditorium.
Once in the lobby, she started down the hall to go back to class, but she stopped when she saw you. You were walking arm-in-arm with a co-star, laughing and still in your costume. Robin’s heart skipped a beat as her feet planted her where she was.
When you passed by her, she finally spoke up.
“Hey,” she said quietly, but it caught your attention. You stopped and turned to look at her, a soft smile on your face. “Y-you did really good.”
Your smile grew wider. “Thank you.”
You held her gaze for a few more moments before your co-star pulled you into the crowd, leaving Robin blushing and falling for you.
———
Robin suddenly wanted to go to every show, more specifically, the shows you were in. It didn’t matter if you were the star, the supporting role, or in the ensemble, Robin wanted to see you. She didn’t know any of the shows, but it was worth it.
Steve noticed her new hobby, and brought it up one day as he drove her to work.
“So…you’re into theater now, huh?” He asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Yeah, I-“ Robin started, but quickly stopped herself. “Why are you bringing this up?”
Steve hummed, “I think someone has a little crush.”
His sing-songs voice made her roll her eyes.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do, though,” he replied. “Your actress crush came in to the store on your day off with a friend. I overheard them talking about you, specifically she was talking about you.”
“And? What did she say?” Robin quickly perked up.
“‘Don’t know what I’m talking about’, huh?” He teased, earning a slap on the arm from her. “Fine! She thought you were cute and wanted to talk to you after her shows, but you always leave before she can.”
Robin leaned back in her seat, her gaze turning to the window. Maybe there was a chance that you liked her back, just a little bit. The thought of talking to you gave her butterflies, you had left her a bit starstruck.
“Earth to Robin!” Steve said loudly, waving his hand in front of her face.
She blinked and looked back over at him. “What?”
He laughed. “You’re totally head over heels for her.”
“I’m not!”
“You are!”
The rest of the ride consisted of Steve and Robin arguing over her little crush.
———
You excitedly scanned the crowd the best you could when you first went on. Even with the stage lights in your eyes, you spotted her in the middle seat, where she always is. Robin.
Your friend had a class with her and told you everything about her the moment you hinted at even liking her. You noticed her at your shows and you were developing a little crush on her, but she always left before you could see her after the show.
The rest of your performance went by quickly and you were the first one off stage. You were determined to catch her before she left. You raced out the door and down the hall to the lobby, watching the stream of people exiting the theater for her.
You spotted her and smiled, pushing your way through the crowd to get to her. You reached out and tugged on her sleeve, causing her to turn around.
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Hi,” you said timidly.
“Hi,” she replied in the same tone. The crowd moved around you two, making it seem like it was just you and her.
“Y-you were great.”
“Thank you,” you answered, “I’ve seen you at all my shows, but I never catch you afterwards.”
“Yeah, I, uh, I usually have to go…” Robin said, lying through her teeth.
“Well, I’m happy I was able to catch you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“About what?”
You smiled wider and blushed. “If you want, I…I’d really like to hang out with you sometime.”
You noted the blush that dusted her cheeks.
“I-I, uh, I’d love that!” She quickly answered, stumbling over her words with how quickly she said them. She returned your smile and the two of you slipped your way away from the crowd.
“Um,” you glanced around before snatching a program from a stand and a pen. You quickly scribbled out your number on the piece of paper then handed it to her. “Here, call me and we can figure out the details.”
Robin smiled and took it. “Okay, great.”
You two stood there smiling at each other for a moment, then she pointed her thumb back. “I…I should get going.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you said as you waved her goodbye. You watched her leave and sighed.
You quickly and turned to go back to your dressing room. You wanted to get out of costume and go home.
You couldn’t wait for her call.
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“I can fix him” “I can make him better” girl you are worse than him
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forevermoreharrington · 15 hours
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king!steve pulling his girl into some quiet room at a party just to kiss her neck and ask her when they can go home, all pouting and begging because he just wants to spend all night kissing and cuddling her but everyone else always thinks its her dragging him home because they miss the grin on his lips when they head out the door <3
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such-manage · 6 hours
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diqldrunks · 1 day
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✧*̥˚ THE MAIN MASTERLIST *̥˚✧
nav | inbox
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FANDOMS: obx. pjo. criminal minds. stranger things. marvel.
INBOX STATUS: asks = open!
*:・゚✧*:・゚
✧*̥˚ OBX *̥˚✧
rafe cameron | jj maybank
✧*̥˚ PJO *̥˚✧
luke castellan | percy jackson
✧*̥˚ CRIMINAL MINDS *̥˚✧
aaron hotchner | spencer reid
✧*̥˚ STRANGER THINGS *̥˚✧
steve harrington | eddie munson | nancy wheeler | robin buckley
✧*̥˚ MARVEL *̥˚✧
peter parker
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lokis-army-77 · 6 months
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
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Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.” 
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 
And then the live is over. 
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 
He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’ 
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 
"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer. 
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
… 
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised. 
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 
“Hi, Sweetheart.” 
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise. 
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg. 
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 
“Yeah?” You whisper. 
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 
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galaxy-siren · 3 months
Text
Are You Together?
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Request: Hi! Could I please request an Eddie x fem!reader where they are like best friends and they're like "all but dating." And maybe it takes place around the time when Dustin, Mike, and Lucas join Hellfire and after a couple of weeks, one of them finally asks if Eddie and reader are dating and Eddie gets all blushy because he's been in love with her since she joined Hellfire. And reader tells the boys that they're friends because Eddie rejected her when she asked him out and then Eddie is just like "WHAT?????"
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: little bit of fluff, friends to lovers, all but dating, some curse words
AN: This was an anonymous request! Sorry this took a minute to get to, but I hope you enjoy it!
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Dustin, Lucas, and Mike were confused. They had recently joined Hellfire, Eddie had taken them under his wing and promised to help make high school at least somewhat tolerable for them, and so far they were loving Eddie’s sadistic campaigns. However, there was something the three of them couldn’t quite figure out, were you and Eddie dating?
It seemed like you were, but they couldn’t tell for sure. The two of you were practically attached at the hip, one never seen without the other. They knew that the two of you had been friends for years and knew everything about each other. You even finished each other’s sentences sometimes. There was a natural fluidity to everything the two of you did, which was obvious to everyone.
There was not so subtle flirting and witty back and forth banter between you two. One of you would always compliment the other or go along with a bit the other started. There were also many inside jokes. Sometimes all either of you had to do was look at the other and you both would burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
You even engaged in PDA. Hugs were constant, the two of you would hold hands a lot, Eddie would even allow you to play with his rings and his hair. This was something that became second nature, you wouldn’t even be aware that you were doing it, and neither did Eddie, he would just unconsciously lean into your touch.
However, the boys had never seen the two of you kiss. Which was what gave them doubts that you were dating.
“Come on, if they were dating, they would be all over each other,” Mike said as the three of them walked over to their lunch table, “Eddie’s face would be permanently glued to hers.”
“Not necessarily,” Dustin stated, “maybe they are dating, and they just don’t like to kiss in front of people. I mean they hug and make heart eyes at each other all the time, that’s gotta mean something.”
Mike snickered, “Eddie doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to be shy about PDA. I say they aren’t dating.”
“Eddie let’s her play with his hair…” there was a hint of frustration in Dustin’s voice, “that is cold hard proof that they are dating. Eddie doesn’t let anyone touch his hair; he told me so himself.”
Lucas set his tray down once they reached the table and shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe they’re really close friends. Just because they hug and everything doesn’t mean they’re dating.”
“I guess we’ll never know for sure.” Mike sat down next to Lucas.
Dustin slammed his tray down with exasperation, “I’m tired of not knowing! I’m gonna ask them as soon as they get here!”
“Ask who what?”
Dustin let out a startled shriek causing Mike and Lucas to chuckle. Eddie stood at the head of the table, you right by his side, both with curious expressions.
Dustin stammered, unsure how to ask the question he and the others had been dying to know the answer to.
“Go on, Dustin, ask them.” Mike said with a smirk.
Dustin glared at him before turning to you and Eddie, “So, we were just wondering, are the two of you…together…like dating.”
You and Eddie looked at each other and laughed, “No.”
“Really?!” Dustin was shocked.
“We’ve been friends for years, but we’re not dating.” Eddie pulled out your chair for you before taking a seat himself.
“Yeah, Eddie rejected me when I asked him out three years ago.” You looked up from your lunch when you were met with silence. You turned next to you to see Eddie’s stunned face; it would have made you laugh if you hadn’t been so confused.
“I’m sorry…” Eddie sat up straight and looked you right in the eye, “WHAT?!”
It was your turn to be confused, “What do you mean, ‘what?’”
“When the HELL did you ask me out?”
“Uh, three years ago, it was my sophomore year, I had just joined Hellfire. After my first campaign, I helped you clean up and asked if you wanted to go to the movies and you told me no.”
“No, no, you helped me clean up and then you asked me if I had ever seen Psycho before because it was playing at the drive in that weekend, and I told you that I had seen the movie before, but that you should totally go see it because it’s good. You never asked me out!”
“Yeah, I was implying that I wanted us to go to the movie together…on a date.”
“Okay, but that wasn’t clear!”
“Yes, I realized that, so I tried again about a month later.”
Eddie’s eyes bugged out in shock, “WHAT?!”
“Remember, I went with you to band practice and then you drove me home and I told you that I liked you,” you were met with stunned silence from Eddie, “I told you that I liked you and you said, ‘I think you’re pretty great too’ and—"
Eddie cut you off, “I’m glad we became friends.” The memory came flooding back to the front of his mind.
“After you said that, I figured you didn’t feel the same way, and misinterpreted what I meant, so I wiped the egg off my face and moved on.”
The boys winced at Eddie, the secondhand embarrassment kicking in. Lucas released a huff of air, “Rejected twice, that’s rough.”
Eddie looked like he was second guessing every single decision he had ever made since that moment. He was mentally beating himself up. Three years. For three years he had been pining for you, hoping that you would eventually return his feelings, but apparently all that time you had. And not only had you returned his affections, oh no, you had asked him out and he had unknowingly rejected you…twice.
“I am so fucking stupid.”
“Eddie, it’s fine. You didn’t feel the same way. It’s not your fault that you misunderstood what I meant.” You shrugged.
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up so high they were hidden by his bangs. He pulled your chair out, turned it to face him, and leaned in towards you, “I have been in love with you for three years.”
“Wh-what?” You searched his eyes for any hint of mockery but found nothing but sincerity.
He leaned in closer and spoke slowly, making sure to over enunciate each word, “I have been in love with you for three years.”
Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all looked at each other and stood, grabbing their lunch trays. Dustin uttered a quick and awkward goodbye before following the others to another table on the other side of the cafeteria.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” you felt like your entire world was spinning, but not necessarily in a bad way, “you’ve been in love with me, and I’ve been in love with you, and we’ve both been idiots. That sound about right?”
Eddie nodded, “Yup.”
“Well,” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “are we gonna do anything to rectify this?”
Eddie smiled, “I don’t know, you free this weekend?”
“I’ll have to cancel some plans with a friend of mine, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he will either.” Eddie winked and you both smiled.
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