jaa1682-27

[jaa1682-27]

Dreaming of You

Summary: Plagued by graphic dreams about the Munson boy, you decided to see if he can make them come true.

Word count: 10.3k

What to expect: Virgin!Eddie Munson. Smut/Lemon. (-18 kindly dni)

A/N: This was supposed to be something short, hot, and fun, but somehow turned into a therapy session. So this is for all my girlies who have suffered bad sex, been robbed of their O's, and made to feel like pleasing them was too much work. I’m very much a long fic kind of gal, so this is a bit of a different speed for me. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

Yes, that is a Selena song title.

It started with a dream where Eddie The Freak Munson made an appearance. You knew who he was. Everyone did. But you never paid him more than a glance or two until your unconscious mind conjured up a peculiar image of his face buried between your legs on top of O’Donell’s desk. At first you couldn’t quite place who it was until he withdrew from you. Even in sleep, you were lucid enough to be shocked that the freak was the one to turn your legs to jelly. He interrupted your thoughts by commanding you to roll on your belly and stick your ass in the air so he could fuck you full right in the middle of the empty math classroom.

After waking up with a sticky situation to remedy, you started to pay more attention to him. Eddie Munson was no longer a loud extra in the backdrop of your day to day life.

Now that he was on your radar, you could spot him anywhere. He towered over almost everyone. Was he always so tall? And kind of built in a scrappy sort of way? You saw him without his jacket once and had the sudden urge to just run your hands up his shirt and feel his lithe abdomen. Maybe even lightly scrape your nails down it just to see the red marks left behind.

Your ogling led to the discovery that he had really nice hands. Even if they were covered with an excessive amount of silver rings that directed the reflection of sunlight from the window into your eyes if you looked his way too long. You wondered if the cheap faux silver turned his thick fingers green, but then forgot to care once you started to wonder what else those fingers could do--if the stretch of them would feel just as good as you dreamt.

You also noticed that he stuck his tongue out a lot. It was like he knew what you dreamt about and was intentionally tormenting you. When he was antagonizing Jason in the cafeteria, you nearly fainted at the sight—tongue so long it nearly reached the bottom of his chin. It didn’t take long for you to imagine yourself sitting on his face, writhing on the wet, flat muscle and thinking about how his nose would probably bump in just the right spot. How you’d love to thread your fingers through the hair at the crown of his head and--

A curiosity soon turned into an obsession. Morning, noon, and night your thoughts were flooded with the boy in the leather jacket. You couldn’t escape him even in your dreams.

You had to have him.

Many hours of the school day were dedicated to coming up with a plan on how to get his attention, but it was more difficult than you hoped. He was always surrounded by people and looked as if he were in the middle of a tirade, which judging by his outburst in the cafeteria—he probably was. Waiting for him to be isolated wasn’t yielding any results, but the thought of going up to him when he was in a group of boys who looked less than welcoming wasn’t what you wanted either.

There was a possibility that Eddie would laugh at you. Turn you into a spectacle and belittle you for asking him out. He was loud, opinionated, boisterous, and quite abrasive if the wrong person approached him. You hoped he wouldn’t do that to you, but you didn’t know him well enough to say for sure.

But then he appeared in another dream that caused a yearning so severe that you decided to risk it all.

He was easy to find in the parking lot after school. As usual, he had some of his friends orbiting around him, though it only seemed to be a few of the younger ones that looked less intimidating than his normal posse. Taking a deep breath to gather your wits, you approached Eddie Munson.

Or at least tried to. The Super senior paid you no mind as you stood beside him. He continued to address the small ring in front of him, not noticing that they were staring at you with open mouths and wide eyes instead of listening to him.

“--You can beg all you like, Wheeler, but the answer is no. Why don’t you ask your buddy ol pal Harrington to get it--what are you all looking at?” Eddie turned to follow their gaze. His face shifted from mild annoyance to confusion as he stared at you.

Losing a bit of your nerve at the way his brown eyes bore into you, you faltered. “H-hey, Eddie.”

His brow furrowed in further uncertainty. “Hi?”

You couldn’t blame him for being uneasy at your sudden attempt at contact, having ignored him for the years you’d been in school together. But it made you second guess yourself all the same. Perhaps the Eddie in your dreams should be the one you focused on.

The thought of Dream Eddie brought on a searing heat that warned your neck and face. If there was even a chance that Eddie in the real world could have the same effect on you that Dream Eddie did, you had to go for it.

Regaining your confidence, you put on a sly smile. “Are you busy tonight?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you and tilted his head. “Why?”

Feigning innocence, you shrugged meekly. “Why don’t you invite me over and find out.”

After a few more beats of confusion, something seemed to click in Eddie’s brain as you visibly watched his suspicion turn to understanding. He nodded and snapped his fingers before pointing it at you like a gun. “Right. Forest Hills at nine o’clock?”

All the tension you were carrying in your shoulders melted away. Smiling brightly, you agreed.

——

Nine o’clock seemed to take forever. You spent the time at home pulling out all the stops to make sure that you were ready and presentable. Using the best smelling shampoo and body wash, taking the time to contort in the tub for optimal body hair removal—no matter how much you hated shaving—teeth and tongue scraped to gleam, perfumed body lotion, the only lacy set of bra and panties you owned, and just a small amount of makeup to keep everything smooth.

It had been a while since you had sex, giving up on high school boys completely. The few experiences you had were less than satisfactory, so you decided that getting yourself off was much less of a hassle than dealing with the idiots at school.

Like many of the girls at Hawkins high, you had given your virginity to Steve Harrington. He was sweet, gentle, and took his time opening you up with his fingers before pushing in to you. It was arguably the best night of your life. An orgasm that was provided by someone other than yourself, the giggling, nose kisses, and night full of whispers made you think you were right to choose Steve for your first time. However, as soon as the sun came up, he forgot all about you and moved on to his next conquest.

Things only went downhill from there.

You could feel bile rising in your throat from remembering the way Tommy H flopped around on top of you like he was having a seizure. With all his talk about how great he was in the sack, you were severely disappointed. You couldn’t wait for it to be over with so you could go home and take care of yourself properly. Thankfully, in less than three minutes your prayer was answered.

Then there was Billy Hargrove. He knew how to use his cock, but he was a selfish lover. He didn’t take the time to make sure you were satisfied, and once he was done, that was it. You were to shut up and leave. He made you cum on occasion, but it turned into a bizarre fight because you didn’t ask his permission to do so. You weren’t desperate enough to beg for anything, and for Billy to expect you to beg him to cum when you could achieve it without him…well. Let’s just say you didn’t go back when he brought it up again.

Steve was great but used you. Tommy was terrible and had bad breath. Billy was capable of satisfying you but chose not to. You hoped Eddie would be different.

In your dreams, his attitude varied. Sometimes it was hot and rough, other times it was slow and sensual, and sometimes it was just him worshiping you with words.

As much as you wanted that to be the truth, you were afraid that Eddie in the flesh would disappoint you. Just like the others.

But you tried not to think about it. Instead, you focused on recreating the images your imagination conjured up both in sleep and waking hours. Recalling the way his lips felt on yours. The sting of your scalp when he pulled your hair. The sweet words he’d coo after he made you see stars.

The permanent ache in your belly only intensified the longer you dwelled on your past visions. Before you were even at his place your body was scorching from the inside out, cunt drenched and throbbing, and breathing erratic.

Arousal quickly faded into nervousness as you parked your car next to the familiar van, but you tried to bully it back by taking a few calming breaths before going for gold and knocking on the door.

All that could be heard from the other side was various banging and swearing before the door launched open to reveal Eddie looking quite frazzled.

He held up a few crushed beer cans in his hand and gave a weak smile. “Sorry. Was trying to clean up a bit. Maid took the week off.”

You gave him a small smile. “That’s okay. Can I come in?”

Eddie moved out of the way and bowed low at the waist. “Of course. Castle Munson is yours.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that display as you walked past him. You’d seen him bow his head to girls at school who either ignored his existence completely or scowled at him, but to be on the receiving end of his chivalry was cute.

His castle was anything but. The trailer was small, very cluttered, and was certainly the home to chain smokers as every countertop had a full ashtray on it. Still, it was oddly comforting with the soft glow of the living room lamp, the rows and rows of mugs lining the walls and the collection of baseball caps to compliment them.

You followed him into the tiny kitchen area. “Do you live here alone?” you asked curiously, taking a closer look at the Garfield mug on the counter.

“Uh--no,” Eddie answered, stuffing his hand in the full trash can to stop the pile from overflowing. “My uncle lives here too but he works overnight at the plant.”

Your heart soared at the idea of having the place to yourself for the evening. “So no one will be home tonight?”

“Nope,” he answered, turning his attention to the fridge. “Can I get you a water? Or beer? I think I have some Kool-aid in here if you want that.”

You shook your head, forgetting he couldn’t see you with his face in the depths of the fridge. Perhaps beer would be a good idea to calm your nerves a bit, but then again, you didn’t want to have horrid breath for this.

“No. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Right,” Eddie mumbled. He withdrew from the fridge and clapped his hands together. “So. What can I get you? I’m out of shrooms, but I have a couple of tabs and some weed.”

“Huh?” you questioned, staring at him with confusion.

Eddie looked equally unsure. “That’s what you’re here for, right? Weed?”

You clenched your eyes shut when you realized what he meant. He didn’t exactly pick up what you were putting down earlier.

Maybe it would be better to accept a beer and a joint. Perhaps get to know him better before pouncing on him like a lioness in heat. But the yearning in the core of your belly wasn’t willing to wait.

“Um, no,” you answered awkwardly. You let out a sharp exhale before looking at him again. “I’m here for you.”

He raised his brows. “Me?”

Was there a way to convey this without sounding like a whore? How were you supposed to tell him you wanted to fuck when clearly the thought never crossed his mind?

You supposed you could show him. You took a few steps to close the distance between you, inhaling the scent of him. True, the smell of cigarettes and weed clung to him, but so did the aroma of Old Spice, cologne, and something you could only describe as man. And boy was it intoxicating in the most alluring way to breathe in.

You placed your hands on his leather clad biceps--which were almost heaven to finally touch after weeks of staring--and stood atop the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Grabbing you by the elbows, he gently pushed you back far enough to be able to look at you.

“Hey, if you don’t have any money, it’s fine. I can just smoke you out,” he frowned. “You don’t have to do any of that.”

No wonder it took him three tries to pass senior year. The guy was really dense. What was it going to take for him to realize you were here to get your back blown out?

Huffing with mild irritation, you leaned away from him and seized the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it carelessly elsewhere.

Eddie’s brown eyes nearly bulged out of his skull as they stared at your lace covered tits. If you weren’t so turned on, you would have laughed at the way his mouth hung open--face frozen in shock. It didn’t even look like he was blinking. Or even breathing for that matter.

“I told you. I came here for you.”

Taking his stunned silence as an opportunity, you crowded his space once again and finally got to live out one of your fantasies: pushing your hands beneath his shirt and feeling the muscles of his abdomen. There were some there, but there was also a little bit of pudge too right at his navel. Lightly gliding your hands upward towards his chest, you leaned to place a small kiss on the side of his throat.

“I’ve had dreams about you,” you said in the best seductive tone you could muster, placing another kiss just a few inches higher on his neck.

His Adam's apple bobbed beneath your lips. “Hua-uhh,” Eddie stammered. “What kind of dreams?”

You smiled to yourself at the crack in his voice. “Oh, I think you know what kind.” You pressed your body flush against his, relishing in the warmth of him and internally cheering at the stiff bulge pressed against your stomach.

Eddie chuckled nervously, his voice much higher than before. “Y-yeah I think I have an idea. Wha--” he cleared his throat in an effort to return his tone to a normal octave. “What happens in them?”

You slid your hands towards his belt loops, hooking your fingers in them and steering him the short way to the couch as you answered. “Which one do you wanna know about? There’s been quite a few. I could tell you about them or—“ you gently pushed off Eddie’s leather jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall before nudging him down onto the lumpy couch. “—I could show you.”

All the air in Eddie’s lungs came out in a huff when he collapsed onto the sofa. Wide eyed he asked, “Is this—is this really happening?”

Taking your time to settle on your knees between his legs, you outlined the tattoo on his forearm, having never noticed it there before. Eddie Munson just became ten times hotter.

“Really happening,” you smirked.

Eddie was nearly panting through his wide open mouth as he watched you undo his belt, button and zipper. The quiet gasps of “h-oh shit” that escaped him only made your confidence grow.

“Cute,” you teased, snapping the elastic waistband of his navy bullfrog boxers.

He may have said something about how they were his lucky pair, but you weren’t listening. The anatomy beneath them was what you were here for, and you couldn’t wait to see it. Wasting not another second, you instructed Eddie to lift his hips and yanked the heavy black denim and boxers to his knees.

Cock slapping against his belly, sticky drops dribbled from the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of it twitching against him in anticipation. It was all you could have hoped for. Thick, long, curved just a little to the right, and with a glistening pink tip—Eddie’s cock was gorgeous.

“Good for you, Munson,” you praised mischievously. It took no time wrapping your hand around the length of him. Heavy, silky smooth, and hot, you gave into the urge and licked a pressured stripe on the underside of his shaft, tracing the protruding vein.

The strangled chortle that emitted from the back of Eddie’s throat only fueled your desire. You could feel your own arousal pooling, more than likely already seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear with how worked up you made yourself earlier. Lifting yourself higher on your knees, you licked the slick slit and relished the salty taste of him before enveloping the entirety of the head with your lips.

Maybe it was weird to be so turned on when giving a blowjob—other girls talked about it like it was a chore and you hated having to do it to Billy. But feeling Eddie’s hairy thighs tremble under your palms, seeing his chest heave as breathy whimpers escaped him, watching his mouth hang open in disbelief with his cheeks sporting a ruddy complexion was enough to make your cunt throb.

Hollowing your cheeks, you lowered your mouth as far as you could without gagging, and pulled back up again to swirl your tongue around the mushroom tip with your fist following close behind.

Eddie huffed and puffed, trying to stutter out half syllables as he writhed in your grasp. Unsure of what to do with his hands, his fingers flexed against the cushions beneath them. He struggled to keep his eyes open—dark lashes fluttering against his pink cheeks with every stroke.

God he was beautiful like this. Why you never thought of him before was a true mystery. Lips pink and plump, strong nose, and eyelashes so long you’d kill for them. Now that you’d seen him blissed out from something you were doing for him—to him—you couldn’t imagine ever going back to ignoring him.

Drunk from the power you clearly had over him and determined to make a lasting impression so this could happen again, you bobbed your head lower and lower, relishing in the smooth glide of his cock against your tongue, opening the back of your throat to accommodate him until you were close enough to bury your nose against the thick dark curls at the base of him.

But Eddie was finally able to gasp out a single word. “S-Stop!”

All the confidence drained from you when you peered at him through your lashes. Eddie panted heavily with his brown eyes wide and glossy, looking as if her were about to cry.

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you frowned with his dick twitching against your chin. “Is it not good—?”

He quickly shook his head. “Too good. So good I’m gonna bust in two seconds if you don’t slow down,” he answered breathlessly. “Or if you keep looking at me like that. Jesus Christ.”

Your frown deepened at his words. Too busy worrying about your pleasure from devouring him, you didn’t give much thought about what he wanted from this, thinking getting blown was reward enough in itself.

Embarrassed by your selfishness, you decided to make it right.

Ignoring the popping in your knees, you lifted yourself from the carpet to straddle Eddie’s lap, taking extra care to press your clothed core right against his aching cock.

Up close like this you were able to admire his features. Trace his bottom lip with your thumb, the curve of his scratchy jaw. Memorize the pattern of light freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. You outlined that too with the pass of your fingertips, along with the ridge of his deep set Cupid’s bow.

“Sorry,” you said softly, gently swiping the curtain of black bangs to expose his pale forehead.

Eddie blinked. “Huh?”

“For being greedy,” you answered simply.

He chuckled weakly. The corner of his lip ticked in a sideways grin, allowing for a dimple to dent his cheek as you caressed it. “Promise it’s alright, Sweetheart. Just want it to last longer than ten seconds.”

You slowly rocked your hips, letting the sopping cotton of your underwear drag against the hard length pressing so deliciously against you. A sigh rushed out of his parted lips when you moved his hands from the couch cushions and slid them up your body until they rested against the curve of your lace covered breasts.

The audible gulp emitting from his throat made you giggle, but it quickly faded into silence when he kept his hands still. No kneading, squeezing, or massaging. You ceased the roll of your hips.

“You can touch me if you want,” you offered.

Eddie stared at his unmoving hands and licked his lips before his eyes flickered up to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

It was your turn to gape at him. It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t even kissed him during your lust fueled frenzy. Granting permission with a wordless nod of your head, letting him initiate just as he asked.

From your observations of Eddie over the last few weeks, timid is not the word you would use to describe him. However, as his lips gently pressed against yours, that’s all you could think of.

The kiss wasn’t bad, it was just…slow. Gentle. Timid. He made no effort to deepen it--deciding that a few chicken pecks were satisfactory. Eddie also kept his hands frozen on your chest, much to your displeasure.

Trying to relay the urgency of your desire, you took over. Crashing your lips against his, you tried to set the pace. But Eddie couldn’t keep up. He was clumsy, had a little too much spit, and nearly jumped out of his skin when you slid the tip of your tongue against his.

Frustrated, you pulled away from him.

“Are you okay?” you snapped.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

You didn’t want to crush his spirit and say it was disappointing, but you also wanted more. “You’re just--you’re acting like you’ve never done this before.”

His cheeks deepened into a harsh maroon. “I haven’t.”

Your hands dropped from his face as you stared at him incredulously. “Haven’t what?”

“This!” Eddie shrieked with frustration. He removed his hands from your tits to pull his boxers over his exposed dick. “I haven’t had a chick dream about me! Or storm into my house with her tits out! Or blow me! Or even--”

The realization hit you like a bag of bricks. Shocked, you blurted, “Oh, my god. You’re a virgin.”

Eddie seized his speech mid rant--mouth snapping shut like a gator’s.

This couldn’t be. Eddie? Eddie Munson? He’d been in high school forever and he never had a girlfriend? Not once? The guy who was like nineteen or twenty? Old enough to go to bars and clubs and--didn’t he play in a band? No girls hung around after the show to try and sleep with the band? Especially now that you’ve seen what he was hiding in those tight black jeans of his.

“How?” you gasped, completely by accident.

Frustrated and embarrassed, Eddie snapped. “It just never happened, okay? No one wants to fuck the freak! Except you, I guess,” he added hastily. “But I think I just ruined that.”

True, you never saw a girl hanging around Eddie at school, but you thought it was just because he was into girls outside of the high school scope. His own age, from bars, from people he knew from earlier years at Hawkins High. With how Eddie carried himself--so sure and in your face--the thought didn’t occur to you that he’d never done anything before.

Your shoulders sagged as the full weight of disappointment sank in. If Eddie was a virgin, he wouldn’t have any idea on how to give you what you wanted. Weeks of dreaming about him were just that--The opposite of reality. Fantasies. Falsehood. The type of rush and satisfaction you got from your dreams would not be received here today, and that was almost devastating. Despite his ignorance of the female body, he probably didn’t want you--someone who barely spoke to him before today--to be the one to champion his first time.

You also felt stupid. So fucking stupid for having built up this guy in your head, only to be so very wrong about him. For as big and bad as Eddie Munson tried to make himself, he was currently the epitome of one of Madonna’s greatest hits.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie grumbled bitterly. “Trust me, no one is more disappointed than I am about it.”

Swallowing harshly, you nodded and tried to smile the ache away. “It’s okay. I’m just surprised. But um--I should probably get going--”

Eddie’s face fell into panic. “No!” he shouted loudly, making you jump at the volume. “I mean--you don’t have to go. We can still do whatever you want. If you want.”

Did you still want to? There was the matter of the soreness in your belly that would only get worse the longer you were left unsatisfied, but you didn’t really have the patience for Eddie to try and figure out how to touch you.

You tried to play it off politely. “Don’t you want your first time to be with someone you care about? I wouldn’t want to take that from--”

“Take it!” Eddie interrupted. “Swear, you’ll be making both of our dreams come true.”

It was difficult to argue with that. You were already here with nothing else to do. And after the hell you went through to make yourself presentable for him? You deserved at least something. The image you curated of him was already shattered to bits. Could any further harm be done at this point?

Eddie took the silence of your deliberation as an opportunity to plead his case. Sliding his large hands up your back, he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your collarbone.

“You could teach me,” he said softly before moving his mouth to attend to the curve of your breast. “Show me what you like.”

Now there was an idea. None of the guys you had been with before were virgins, but they also weren’t very knowledgeable on what it took to please you. With Eddie not having any prior experience, it would be easier to get him to do what you needed so you could both enjoy it, instead of him getting off and you having to take care of yourself after anyway.

Twisting your arm behind your back, you unhooked your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders. “Only if you promise not to use what I show you on anyone else.”

Eddie licked his lips as he watched the lace drop to fully reveal your breasts. “Wouldn’t dare.” Tentatively, as if he was scared to move too fast, Eddie cupped the soft flesh and lifted.

“They’re heavy,” he said with surprise.

You chuckled. “They can be.” Placing your hands over his, you guided him where you wanted him, and told him to squeeze.

“That doesn’t hurt?” he asked curiously.

You shook your head. “You’re not gonna hurt me, Eddie. Just…do what you want, and I’ll let you know if I don’t like it.”

“What if you do like it?”

Your patience was already thinning. “You’ll know.”

There it was again. That tantalizing tongue of his poking out of the side of his mouth as he finally gave in.

Gripping his shoulders for stability, your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of him kneading your chest. Experimenting with pressure, noting that your breath hitched when he held you a little firmer—the way your head tilted back when he brushed his palms over the pebbled flesh of your nipples. His hands felt just as good as you hoped they would. Maybe even better, as they were rougher than you imagined. The harsh texture in contrast to your smooth skin fueled the fire brewing between your legs. The contented sigh that fell from your parted lips when he rolled them between his fingers. Pinching, tugging, sometimes too hard but he paid attention to your direction, never making the same mistake twice.

When his mouth enveloped the hardened nub, you felt all the breath leave your lungs in a rapid huff as you lurched forward involuntarily from the pulse of pleasure coursing through you.

No one had done that to you before. The most attention your boobs ever got was clumsy groping and a sloppy wet kiss to the tops. Never had anyone swirled their tongue over your nipples, and suddenly you felt very cheated.

“Keep doing that,” you breathed, finally living out another fantasy of threading your finger through his hair at the base of his neck to hold him close. It was softer than it looked--thicker and lush. You wondered what it would feel like tickling the inside of your thighs.

Eddie changed course, going from languid swirls to quick flicks that sent jolts of need through your body. Your hips started to rock on their own accord, gliding your sopping cunt over his cock.

Eddie groaned loudly—the vibrations making you whimper. He dropped his hands from your breasts, ignoring the meek whine of protest from you at the loss of contact, and instead focused on gripping the bare fat of your ass beneath your skirt to move you how he wanted—pulled down flush against him and faster. Your hips sped up to meet his pace, relishing in the way the head of his cock bumped your clit with each pass.

He pulled off of your breast with your nipple gently clenched between his teeth, releasing it with a primal growl. You hoped he would show the same attention to the other side, but instead he directed his mouth to the column of your throat--sucking lightly, nipping and licking his way around.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. “Makin such pretty noises for me.”

“Y-you can only leave marks--” you began breathlessly, interrupted by a mouth escaping your lips at the feel of him finding that sweet spot at the juncture of your neck. “--if I can mark you.”

Eddie’s response was indecipherable between the grunt that emitted from him, the way his lips latched onto the soft skin of your neck, and whatever he was trying to mumble. The sting of the suction on your throat paired with the vibrations of his failed attempt at speech was becoming too much.

“You’re soaking me, baby,” he moaned. “Feels so fucking good.”

Grip tightening on your ass, his hips bucked into you, causing shockwaves to roll through the tendrils of your nerves. Finally, the ache you’d been suffering from for weeks was going to be cured. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to subsiding the dull burn in the pit of your stomach with each rhythmic roll of your hips against his. Abdominal muscles fluttering, hole clenching around nothing, blood like molten lava through your veins, moaning and panting with abandon--If he felt this good without even being inside you, you couldn’t wait to find out what like it felt like to be filled with him.

You could just reach down, yank your ruined underwear to the side and slide down the length of him, but you couldn’t stop your movements long enough to do so. You were climbing to your peak and fast.

But Eddie beat you to it. As soon as you opened your mouth to tell him you were on the precipice of seeing stars, Eddie gave one--two more rough thrusts as he let out an animalistic growl in the crook of your neck.

Panic set in. “No. No!” you whined to yourself, trying not to lose impending orgasm by continuing to ride him relentlessly, but it was too late. The tingle had already faded too far to get back without having to start all over.

Disappointed, you closed your eyes to prevent tears of frustration from falling and laid your head atop his in defeat.

Eddie didn’t move from your neck. “Goddamn it! I’m sorry,” he panted. “I’m so fucking sorry. You just--it felt so good and I--fuck!”

“It’s okay,” you replied flatly. If you weren’t mere seconds from cumming your brains out, it would have been hot. Getting him so worked up that he couldn’t control himself? Cumming in his frog underwear while he clutched onto for dear life? Literally the subject of your dreams. But with how sore your gut was getting, it was almost cruel to have lost your well earned orgasm so close to the finish line.

Eddie pulled away from you, looking quite dejected with bits of your hair stuck to his wet lips. “It’s not,” he said breathlessly. “Let me make it up to you. Please? I can still make you feel good. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be good to go.”

He looked so pitiful. Big brown eyes shining at you. Lips pouty. Chest heaving as he pleaded for another chance.

How could you say no to that face? To the offer, really. None of the others would have ever cared that you didn’t get yours, if they even noticed at all.

“Okay,” you answered with a nod. “But, can we go to your room?”

“Yes!” Eddie exclaimed with relief. “Yeah. Uh, let me just--give me a few minutes to clean it up a little.”

You untangled yourself from him and stood to your feet, embarrassed by the stickiness of your thighs. You’d never gotten that wet before, not even by yourself.

“Holy shit!” Eddie laughed, staring at his lap.

You were instantly mortified by the sight. Eddie wasn’t joking--you did soak him. Between your fluids and his, the navy blue boxers were saturated.

Panic fluttered in your chest. He probably thought it was gross. “Sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“Sorry?” Eddie repeated. “Sorry for what? This is--this is fucking hot. I mean, not mine so much, but holy shit.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Eddie was downright…beaming. Eyes kissing in the corners from how large his toothy grin was as he admired your joint handiwork. “You don’t think it’s gross?”

Eddie wiggled his brows. “Lucky boxers just got luckier.”

Huh. That was new too. Mostly that aspect of your body was treated as something to be ashamed of.

“Your room?” you prodded gently.

“Oh! Right.” Eddie pulled his jeans up from his thighs before standing, holding them up to his hips in lieu of buckling them. “Don’t leave!” he shouted as he sprinted down the short hallway.

You chuckled to yourself as he disappeared from sight. Who would have thought Eddie Munson was so…dorky? The image he projected at school and the one you conjured in your head weren’t him at all--Brash, tough, something to be feared or avoided, possibly demented. What a crock. He was goofy. Maybe even sweet. And certainly easier on the eyes than you gave him credit for.

You took the opportunity to find your shirt from the living room floor and try to locate your bra that you threw from the kitchen while Eddie did…whatever he was doing in there. More various banging and swearing emitted from the depths of the hallway that made it sound like he was trying to tear the place down instead of clean it up.

At a closer look of the walls within the Munson home, more than hats and mugs stood out to you. A couple of photos bleached by the sun were tacked to the sheet rock. One showed a large older woman with glasses the size of the moon atop her nose sitting at a wooden table with a handful of cards, a cigarette burning between her fingers, and an expression that you’d bet your life was caused by a winning hand at whatever game she was playing. Another with two little boys in matching coveralls outside a wired fence, both grimacing and squinting to protect themselves from the bright light of the sun. The one next to it was of a girl—who couldn't be older than seventeen—holding a baby with a head full of wild curls, bright wide eyes, grinning proudly to show the two tiny teeth cutting above his gums.

“I know that face,” you grinned, flattening the curled photo against the wall for a better look.

Eddie poked his head through the doorframe. “Did you say something?”

You tapped the picture and took great joy in watching his cheeks pinken at the realization of what you were looking at.

“So you were always cute,” you replied happily.

The color of Eddie’s face rivaled that of a tomato. Watching him become flustered was probably your new favorite thing to do to him. Mean and scary Munson blushing and curling inwards at a compliment? Interesting, indeed.

He cleared his throat and pointed his thumb towards his room. “Do you wanna—?”

Absolutely you did. You followed him with a nod into the small bedroom and took it all in. This was certainly what you expected his room to look like, though if this was the clean version you wondered what it looked like a few minutes ago. He did make the bed at least. Posters and drawings that looked like they were cataloged straight from hell lined the walls. Monsters, demons, skeletons, witches—some printed, painted, and hand drawn. The dresser and desk were covered with stuff. Tools, magazines, ashtrays, were those bullet shells? And a light blue box of condoms topped with a thin layer of dust.

You inspected the obviously unopened box and held back giggles. “Don’t Think we should use these. They expired in September of 1982.”

Horrified, Eddie snatched the package from your hand and stammered, “My uncle—when I started high school.” He gulped, comically tossing the offending material over his shoulder into the abyss. “He thinks he’s funny.”

His attention immediately went to your still bare chest, eyes boring into it like he could see the future through your tits. Suddenly feeling quite awkward and self conscious, you crossed your arms to hide yourself from him, unsure of what to do next.

“You’re pretty overdressed,” you pointed out. While you were only down to stringy lace underwear and a black skirt, Eddie wasn’t missing any clothing.

Breaking from his trance, Eddie scrambled fast as lightning to pull his shirt over his head, accidentally snagging a fistful of his hair along with it causing him to hiss. It was so difficult not to laugh, watching him scamper to free himself of his jeans, but when he stood to his full height in nothing but his ruined boxer shorts, you took a step closer to admire his body.

He was certainly taller than you—your eyes only meeting the middle of his tattooed chest. There was more ink there too. A horrible looking skull. A spider. A dagger with some sort of weird writing on it. But it was all so fitting of him. The black dye complimented his alabaster skin nicely.

As did the shadow of muscles on his abdomen. He was a lot more built than you thought he was under those layers of leather and denim. He wasn’t big enough for the football team, but he would probably do well in soccer with those long legs of his.

Toying with the guitar pick that dangled from his necklace, you looked up at him from your lashes. “You should probably kiss me.”

Eddie swallowed hard at the suggestion, making you grin a little at how nervous he still seemed to be despite being in nothing but his underwear.

But he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. The way his big brown eyes were raking over you, like he could see through your very soul, made you shrink a little under the strength of his gaze. But he had a sweet smile stretched across his lips--the kind that let his dimples dent his cheeks.

“You really are good lookin’,” you blurted.

Eddie chuckled softly, gently moving the loose strands of hair out of your face with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.” He moved his hand to caress your cheek, the other delicately tracing up the back of your arms with only the pads of your fingertips, sending shivers down your spine at the featherlight touch.

This kind of attention was something new. Something you hadn’t experienced before except for maybe with Steve, but the betrayal you felt after he ignored you once he got what he wanted left you bitter. Other experiences weren’t as…intimate. Gentle. Soothing, even. And you felt a tad bit guilty for coming on to Eddie so strongly, knowing full well what it was like to only be used for your body.

This was his first time doing anything ever with a girl. And while yes, you were desperate to get some sort of relief from the horrible tension in your stomach, you were enjoying Eddie’s sincerity. That’s what it had to be, right? He wasn’t like Steve with an ulterior motive--Eddie knew he was going to have you. And he decided to be sweet anyway.

You took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his slim waist, holding him close in a tight hug. He was so warm. Radiating heat that you gladly absorbed, taking in a breath as you pressed your cheek against his sternum. “You’re not what I thought you’d be like,” you admitted shamelessly.

Eddie returned the gesture, pressing your bare chest into his as close as he could--scratchy palms sliding up and down your back--occasionally clutching the soft curves. “And what’s that? Mean and scary?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach that came to life when he kissed the crown of your head. “I’d thought you’d be…rough. Maybe a little mean. Domineering.”

With your face buried in his torso, you didn’t see Eddie frown or furrow his brows. “Is that what you like?”

You took some time to think before answering. “I don’t know what I like, Eddie. No one’s ever asked,” you sighed. And it was true. With your limited encounters, you didn’t have good concrete data on what did it for you. Billy was what you accused Eddie of being, and you could count on one hand the amount of times you actually enjoyed yourself, only to be reprimanded for it later.

Eddie’s grip tightened, and he peppered a few more kisses atop your head, temples, and the edge of your hairline. Each one making your heart flutter faster and the heat in your cheeks rise. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I know what I liked in my dreams,” you added thoughtfully. “We could always give it a shot. If you want to, I mean.”

Eddie pulled away just enough to lock eyes with you--tilting your head up further with the knuckle of his index finger. “I’d sure as shit love to, but you gotta know, I’m not him. Whoever you’ve been dreaming about. I mean, I already disappointed you with being--you know.” Eddie gulped, lightly nibbling at the edge of his bottom lip.

You placed a quick peck onto the corner of his mouth, and another on the other side. “I know. You don’t have to be anyone or anything. Just you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you think otherwise.”

Eddie nodded, the edge of his lip ticking up into a fragment of a smile. “Still want me then? I’ll still die a very happy man if you change your mind.”

“Oh, I still want you, Eddie Munson,” you chuckled heartily.

“Well then,” Eddie grinned, removing your hands from behind his back and bringing your knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “You shall have me.”

You couldn’t stop giggling. Giggling for god’s sake. It was so cheesy. Such a bad line. If anyone else had said it, you probably would have snorted and rolled your eyes. But Eddie? Something about him made it work--the way his eyes practically sparkled or the fact that he just kissed the tops of your hands like some Victorian Royal. Why hadn’t you paid any attention to him before? You could almost kick yourself for believing what everyone else said about him instead of finding out for yourself. But you were here now, and didn’t want to waste anymore time. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face down to be able to catch him in a kiss.

This time was better. Instead of rushing him, you let him set the pace--take the lead--let him be the one to decide if and when he wanted to deepen the kiss. You followed his movements, moving with him and trying to give pointers with your own body language when things got a little…lost. The longer it went, the more his confidence grew. Languid licks into your mouth turned into more adventurous tugging at your bottom lip. And before long, you were on the bed with Eddie hovering over you--skirt and underwear cast aside somewhere in the chaos of his room.

Body practically searing, you held your breath as Eddie traced his fingertips over the soft expanse of your belly. Normally self consciousness of how you looked would cloud your mind with doubt—stretch marks, the size and shape of your abdomen—but with how Eddie gazed at you with a slack jaw and brown eyes almost pleading, you forgot to think too much about it.

“Can I touch you?” he asked carefully, rubbing his large palm against your stomach.

Though you were glad Eddie cared enough to ask permission, you were becoming increasingly impatient as lust clouded your mind. “I might kill you if you don’t,” you answered with a huff.

Eddie licked his lips and spared a glance between your legs. You let your knee drop further, inviting him to explore. He slid his palm down to slide his fingers along your sticky slit. A sigh of relief rushed from your lips at the contact, and your hips instinctively followed his fingers for more.

His eyes clenched shut as he groaned through parted lips. “Oh, fuck. You’re so wet.”

“It’s cause of you,” you praised, threading your fingers in his hair and holding his forehead to yours once again. “You did this to me.”

Eddie audibly gulped, unable to both carry on a conversation and focus on his fingers at the same time. He was being too delicate for your liking, barely able to feel the brush of his fingertips. Desperate to help, you put your hand over his, showing him how you wanted to be touched.

“Like this,” you said, adding more pressure against his middle finger as he traced the path from your entrance to your clit, breath hitching at the tingling sensation when he reached it.

“And just--” your pressed his fingers harder against you, showing him just how you liked to be rubbed. You tried to tell him he could switch it up between small circles or figure eights, but the only thing that came out of you were little squeaks of appreciation. The callus of his fingertips against the delicate flesh there was hypnotizing to say the least.

“That’s good?” he questioned with a furrowed brow.

The circular ministrations he applied to your clit kept you from doing anything other than nod dumbly. But that seemed to be acceptable to Eddie, whose lips twisted into a lopsided grin.

You moved your grasp from his hand to find purchase on his forearm instead. His half lidded eyes stayed focused on yours. “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he admitted.

You wanted to tell him you were getting a hell of a lot out of it too, but again, words failed you. Instead, you settled for a breathy “Mhm” and let yourself get lost in his touch.

Within a few minutes, Eddie got more spontaneous. He moved his attention back down to your hole, keeping the heel of his palm right where you wanted. You were surprised when he teased your entrance with his finger without being prompted, but enjoyed the attention nonetheless. When you answered his raised brow with a nod, the delightful stretching around his thick finger paired with the friction on your sensitive button was nothing short of relief. You greedily took what he gave you, rocking your hips steadily to set the pace you wanted from him, and he happily obliged. Swiftly gliding his finger in and out with calculated compression against your clit.

“Yes,” you cooed with a heaving chest. “Jus-just like that.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, hot breath fanning against your face. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. Jesus Christ.”

He never took his eyes away from yours. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, but somehow this was far more intimate. Noses nudging against each other, lips barely brushing to breath in every whine he coaxed out of you. He was so gorgeous like this. Brown eyes dark and hazy, pouty lips open in a silent ‘O’ as his brow furrowed in concentration. He made pretty noises too, panting and groaning along with you like it felt just as good to him.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, grip tightening on his forearm. “Eddie, I need you.”

“‘M right here.”

Shaking your head, you moved your grasp from his arm to his cock. “Need you. Inside.”

All of his movements ceased. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Really? Like now?”

“Yes, now!” you whined.

“Right! Sorry! Just can’t--really can’t believe this is about to happen,” he babbled. He made quick work of getting rid of his boxers before adjusting himself properly. He was heavy, but in a way that brought you comfort as he draped his body over yours and caged your head between his forearms. Both breathing heavily from exhilaration, you took a second to revel in the moment.

“Holy shit!” he laughed.

Brushing the long waves behind his ear, you nodded and leaned up just enough to press a tender kiss to his plump lips.

Eddie couldn’t contain his excitement. He moved from your lips, you kissing all over your face before settling for sloppy opened mouth kisses dotting a path from your collarbone up to that mind numbing spot at the juncture of your neck. As soon as his teeth scraped against it, you squeezed his hips with your knees, the craving for him only intensifying. The feel of his breath on your neck, hair tickling your chin and cheek, the weight of his chest pressing against yours was all too dizzying.

“Need you,” you whimpered against his cheek. You dipped your hand between your bodies to grab his length and poise it at your entrance.

Eddie groaned at the desperation in your demand. Sliding the head of his cock between your drenched folds, the torture of him being so close was getting to be too much. Your body jolted with every bump of his cock against your swollen bud. You were getting impatient, and needed him to be inside already.

“Eddie, please,” you begged.

Breathing raggedly, Eddie obliged. He pushed himself in with you guiding him, emitting a groan of satisfaction that rumbled from the depths of his chest. Yours was just as loud as you felt him slide into you, walls stretching with that delicious bite to consume him completely.

As soon as he reached his end, a simultaneous breath of relief flowed between both of you. It was almost intoxicating being so full of him. It didn’t seem like you could feel anything else but him, both inside and out, and you were deliriously addicted to it. You tangled your fingers into the curls of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked him down to meet your lips and a hungry kiss. You wanted him to understand just how much you wanted him. Greedy, sloppy, and feverish—you put all your unbridled desire into curling your tongue around his, roughly nipping his bottom lip.

Breathing heavily, Eddie pulled away. “It’s okay?”

You nodded vigorously, almost begging him with the look in your eye to please give you what you wanted. “You can move.”

Inching back, the slow drag of his cock between your tight walls was enough to arch your back, already missing the feel of engulfing him completely. But when he snapped his hips forward in a powerful thrust, you couldn’t help the wanton moan that escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

You hummed in response, unable to formulate more of a reply than that. Even if he didn’t know what he was doing yet, being stuffed full of him was already a relief of its own.

He experimented with pace and tempo. It took some time for him to find a rhythm that was to your liking. You didn’t want to be too bossy or demanding, so you kept your queues limited to directing his hips with your hands—subtly maneuvering him until you found just the right motion that made your head flop back onto the pillows. It was his first time after all, and you didn’t want him to lose confidence with constant redirection.

“There!” you gasped once he found the spot you could never reach on your own. “Right there, baby.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grunted back. His hips rutted into yours in a steady, fast paced rhythm that kept you bucking into him for more. It was too good to not keep chasing the sensation of him gliding into you with each forceful pump of his cock.

Whatever he was hitting seemed to also be the off switch to your brain. All thoughts were erased from your mind in an instant, only leaving behind an instinctual need for more.

“Yeah,” you repeated, no longer in control of the words falling from your lips. “Yes. Yes!”

He dropped his chest down further, sweat slicked skin sliding against yours as he devoured your breathy moans in a heated kiss. You practically shouted at the new pressure of his pelvis grinding against your clit. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and locked your ankles together to keep him right where you wanted.

“So fucking perfect,” he said thrkigh gritted teeth. “Look so pretty taking my cock.”

Normally dirty talk would have been another eyeroll and possibly get rid of any sexual desire you had. But it was another thing Eddie would get away with. It could be because of how grateful he looked when he said it, or because he felt so good inside you that you couldn’t care less what came out of his mouth so long as he kept his hips moving.

You couldn’t get enough of him—wanting to feel every inch he had to offer. You held him close, letting your hands roam around the expanse of his back. Feeling every ripple his muscles that appeared with each contraction of his torso. The ridges of his ribs. The dent of the dimples on his lower back. The soft fat of his cute little ass that you pressed harder against you to get him as deep as you could.

And there it was. The perfect combination of pressure, speed, and depth.

“Eddie,” you gasped against him. “Eddie, don’t stop,” you pleaded breathlessly. “God, don’t stop.”

He drove into you harder, rewarded with the deafening sound of the headboard clashing against the wall. It was all getting to be too much for Eddie. The squealing of the old mattress springs, your cries of pleasure and death grip your hot, slick walls had on his cock, the bounce of your tits slapping against his chest all were causing his abdomen to contract in a way that could only mean one thing.

“I’m close,” he warned loudly, hips faltering a little.

Instinctively, your legs clenched tighter around him. You didn’t want to lose it. Not again. Not knowing it would just leave you frustrated and sore. “I’m almost there,” you announced. You weren’t far off, but not quite there yet. “Just a little bit more, baby, please.”

Eddie gritted his teeth and willed himself to hold it, losing both the battle and his mind with each high pitched mewl that escaped the back of your throat, each plea to not stop as you hurdled toward your release.

The hair on your arms started to stand on edge as the tingling goosebumps erupted across your naked skin. As soon as the tight coil in the pit of your belly ruptured, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, you lost your vision. Did you black out? You couldn’t say. The only thing you could hear was the roar of blood coursing through your ears. The only sensation you could identify as you convulsed around Eddie was the tingling that radiated through every nerve you possessed. The only word you could pronounce between wails and blissful sobs was “Eddie!”

Finally. After weeks of dreaming, you had Eddie Munson. After a year or so of solo ventures, you had an orgasm that wasn’t by your own hand. After years of bad to mediocre sex, you had the best climax of your life. At fucking last.

When your body went completely boneless and released Eddie from the vice grip your legs had on him, he abandoned his post and collapsed next to you in a breathless, wheezing heap.

You found Eddie’s sweaty hand and laid yours atop it. He flipped it over and interlaced his fingers with yours, clutching tightly. A nonverbal way to say “I’m still here.”

Minutes ticked by as you tried to float back into your body. Eddie’s popcorn ceiling was all you could focus on while your heart stopped pulsing so hard against your face to where you could physically see the rapid beating. And when your lungs stopped screaming for air, you turned your head to see Eddie still struggling to breathe.

“Shit, I gotta quit smoking,” Eddie wheezed.

You giggled and watched as he placed sloppy kiss on the back of your hand. “Glad you think that’s funny,” he jested.

“Want me to get you some water?” You offered, trying to supress your giggles at his red and sweaty face.

He shook his head. “I’ll get us both some in a second.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbow, your hand still tangled with his, and placed your chin on his chest. “Did you cum?”

“Oh hell yeah!” Eddie answered eagerly. “Hard not to when there’s a hot chick screaming my name.”

You hid your face by burying it in his chest, concerned about what you said and how you sounded.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie tapped the top of your head until you reluctantly looked at him. “So fucking hot. Wouldn’t change a thing. C’mere.”

You obliged, crawling up Eddie’s chest and meeting him in a smooch. A quick peck turned into two. Into three. Into one long kiss that stole what little breath you regained.

A sudden sense of dread settled in your stomach when you watched the way Eddie’s eyes raked over you. You could clearly see adoration. Appreciation. Glee. And while the look on his face should have brought you comfort and ease, anxiety took hold. Steve looked at you the same way, and that was a ruse. What if this turned out to be the same? Eddie could easily kick you to the curb now that he got what he wanted. It’s what all men did, isn’t it?

Nervously, you began to fiddle with one of the rings on his fingers. “You know, there’s one part of my dreams that I hope comes true.”

Eddie raised his brow. “Do tell.”

“You don’t forget me in the morning.”

Eddie snorted. “Sweetheart, I’m never going to forget you. Even when I’m old and in the corner of some nursing home, I’ll always remember this night.”

“That’s not what I mean, Eddie,” you said sadly. “I don’t want you to act like this never happened or ignore me.”

Eddie’s smile slid from his face, an expression of concern replacing it. “I’m not gonna do that. I’d invite you to spend the night—shit, the whole damn weekend—but I didn’t wanna scare you. Come off creepy or whatever.”

Your abdomen felt lighter. “You mean it?”

He kissed your forehead with a wet, loud smack. “I should have told you—when I said you have me, I meant it. I am your ever faithful, humble servant.”

Those damn giggles returned. “Then I suppose I’ll keep you, so long as you’ll have me.”

The rest of the night was better than you could have ever imagined. After a shower that left you covering in half a dozen hickies or more, You both talked about everything that came to mind, often getting sidetracked and falling down other rabbit holes of stories before looping back to the initial thought that started it all. Eddie let you see some of the most vulnerable parts of himself, and in turn, you showed him those parts of you. Before you knew it, the front door of the trailer slammed shut, announcing the arrival of the eldest Munson.

Eddie grabbed his alarm clock and showed you the angry red numbers.

You gasped at the time. “Six in the morning?! Eddie, we’ve been up all night!”

He tossed the clock carelessly onto his nightstand, not at all looking concerned when it crashed to the floor. “Stop being interesting for five minutes so we can go to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but snuggled closer into his chest. This is where you wanted to be. Warm, held, and adored.

Though he wasn’t at all what you dreamt of, Eddie Munson was indeed a dream come true.

————————————————————

Part 2 coming soon?

For more of my writing, I recommend my current series: Disjointed.

Tagging those who responded to the feelers post and those who have been putting up w me the entire writing process!

@eddiemunsonspantschain @pastel-pillows @stayonmars @lesservillain @2clones-1kamino @laura83stuff-blog-blog @katethetank @thruheavenandhighwater @hellfiredarling @mmunson86 @b-irock

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson lemon

[jaa1682-27]

#pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic

[jaa1682-27]

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #lupita nyong'o #a quiet place day one #cinemacon

[jaa1682-27]

❤️❤️

Joseph Quinn / CinemaCon 2024

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #a quiet place day one

[jaa1682-27]

THE MANDALORIAN (2019–) 2.07 • "The Believer"

#din djarin #the mandalorian #themandalorianedit #starwarsedit #starwarsfilms

[jaa1682-27]

PEDRO PASCAL as Javi Gutierrez in THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT 2022 — dir. Tom Gormican

#the unbearable weight of massive talent #ppascaledit #pedropascaledit #pedro pascal

[jaa1682-27]

Colin Zabel x reader

One shot with Colin and (ex) Fiancé.

Colin had asked me to marry him on Christmas Day. It was unpalatably cliche - unwrapping a box inside a box inside a box until I found the little black Zale’s one. It was the exact ring I had told him I wanted when he’d asked me what style I liked, and as him and our families huddled around me, eyes begging me to say ‘YES’ I decided to please them all and yelp with excitement and pulling in Colin for a kiss. I yelled Yes about 4 times before I think it really sunk in that Colin had just asked me to marry him.

We knew of each other in high school, but had been on vastly different planets. He loved school, and was a straight A student. He was early to class, and stayed behind to converse with teachers about assignments. It was cute in a dorky way.

I hated school. I wanted to stay home and write or read or go for a hike. I felt like an old soul being dragged around high school like a rag doll.

My friends and I were the ones who hot boxed our cars on the way to school, and who payed kids like Colin to do homework for them. I changed a lot once I graduated and got accepted to college. I knew it was only because my father was childhood friends with the Dean, but I tried to remind myself that I had talent, I just didn’t like to use it often when it came to assignments.

College made me realize that the world was bigger, that I could do and go where I wanted if I would just apply myself the way teachers had asked me to for so many years. 
I was accepted at the Pittsburgh paper before I even put my graduation cap on my head. They were sickeningly obsessed with my writing style. I had been writing for my college paper all four years, and I was damn proud of each piece of work that I’d done. I wanted to be that reporter that got all the facts straight and who wrote articles that changed people.

I had bumped into Colin in a coffee shop in Lehigh Valley doing some research on some brutality that had been surfacing in the area. I didn’t know it was Colin Zabel when he walked into the coffee shop. I was in leggings, a black oversized Bate’s College sweatshirt, and my hair was in a messy bun stuck straight up on my head. I wasn’t aiming to please anyone, just ask some questions around town about the crimes that had been happening. 
“Y/N, Y/L/M,” I remember his voice was so sexy and gentle. I twisted around to see who possibly could have known who I was in this area of PA. I was met by a handsome man with perfectly ironed clothing, a fresh shaved face and clean haircut. He smiled as he looked me over quick and then shook his head as if he was embarrassed to not have given me his name yet.

“Colin, Colin Zabel from Easton High. You probably don’t have any idea who I am. I was always in the closet in high school.”

I raised my eyebrow at him.

“I mean shadows. WOW. I didn’t mean to say closet, oh god.” I just started to laugh, and Colin’s shoulders released some tension.

“I do remember that name. I think I had English literature with you. I think you called me out for accidentally using the wrong ‘Their” in my final paper,” It was my turn to look him up and down. He had certainly grew into his awkwardness, and I suddenly felt so embarrassed at the way I was dressed.

“Hey let me buy you a coffee? It’s the least I can do for the final paper correction.” He flashed me a smile and I felt my heart pump blood a little faster. “I’m not sure where you’re headed but I’d love to get a few minutes of your time to catch up,” He ushered me forward and I shook my head.

“I’d love that, Colin.”

Three years later:

I stared at myself in big giant mirror in front of me. The Martina Liana wedding dress I had dreamed of my whole life. It was my final fitting today, and in two weeks I was becoming Mrs. Zabel.

My mother stood next to me, I could see the tears forming in her eyes.

“My baby girl, you’re too perfect. I can’t wait to see Colin’s reaction when he sees you!” She put her hand over her mouth. I really didn’t want her to cry. I also really didn’t want to be there. I had gotten an email today from the Washington Post. They wanted me to join their team. I only sent them my resume after I got a nasty comment on my latest news article. I had gotten wine drunk and sent all my work to their editor in hopes I could feel a sense of confidence in my work again. I was dragging the last two years since starting to work remotely from Colin and I’s shared apartment. I wrote about mindless nonsense in my sweatpants eating ramen noddles on most days. I was getting lazy and I wanted change. I was loosing my lust for wanting to move people with my writing. Now I just wanted them to finish my whole article instead of skim to the end.

“Are we almost finished here?” I turned towards the lady behind me. I probably shouldn’t snap at the woman who had a needle in one hand and my 5 thousand dollar wedding dress in the other. She rambled quickly in Spanish before getting back to work.

“Honey, you look stressed. Are you getting nervous?” My mom took my hands.

“No, god no.” Lies. “I’m just excited to go home and see Colin.” He had been working long nights at the office, his newest case was running him into the ground. He hardly slept the last few weeks trying to move up the ranks of his newest position as county detective. He absolutely loves what he does, and it shows. He was so smart, and loyal to his job. I couldn’t ever imagine him leaving, but I know he would if I asked him to…

I politely asked my mom to grab my phone for me, telling her I was going to ask Colin to pick up a bottle of wine to celebrate the last dress fitting before the big day. Yet again, a lie.

Another email from the Washington Post editor was the only notification I had on my phone. 
I tapped the screen with nervous hands. What if they were retracting their offer?

“Y/N,

As you can see we have so many outpouring of applications waiting to be accepted into our paper. You work is fabulous, and we need that kind of insight and spectacular attention to detail at our company. Please let us know by tomorrow morning if you accept this once in a lifetime opportunity. We’re excited to hear from you and plan our next big steps!

Talk soon.”

I didn’t sleep much that night for more than just the proposition from the paper. Colin hadn’t returned my texts in hours. I knew his career was extremely time consuming, but I also knew that it was dangerous. I only asked him to give you updates here and there- and usually he was extraordinarily good at keeping you informed on his whereabouts. He loved that I loved him. He was always telling me that I was the best thing in his entire life. I know most girls would kill to have someone say that to them, but it made me feel utterly stuck. I wanted this job at the Washington post so bad I could taste it. I knew Colin would be ecstatic for me, and he would quit his job and start at square one at a new job in DC…but DC was a completely different kind of dangerous than PA. That terrified the shit out of me. He was too pure, he was too good. He would do anything for me and I couldn’t accept that kind of responsibility.

I decided to take a shower. It was the middle of the night and my thoughts had made me feel the need to have a good cry- and it was just my comfort place to do it. I hated crying, especially in front of people. I always used the excuse to cry in the shower, and I’d done that ever since I could remember. I felt the water rush over my face, forgetting that the warm liquid was mixed with my tears. I can’t pass up this opportunity to work for the Washington Fucking Post, but I knew I couldn’t allow Colin to throw away the life he built here- even before I entered his world. I didn’t want to imagine declining the job opportunity and rotting away my career that I’d made for myself. I was already feeling like I was starting to just be an extension of Colin. I would soon just be his wife that nobody cared about that would pop out three or four kids and completely give up journalism to get pissed and puked on and cook and clean. I hated cooking. Colin was so much better at it than I was anyway.

I heard the bathroom door open and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up. I could hear Colin undoing his belt and the rest of his clothes crashing down to the floor in a soft thud. He peeled back the shower curtain and I mustered up a smile.

“I’m soooo sorry I didn’t get a chance to text you back, I was out on the field. I am so close to crashing this case, you have no idea.” Colin slowly made his way into the shower and I quickly wrapped my arms around him, I wanted to feel his embrace. It was my home, the most comfortable place on earth.

Was I too comfortable?

“I was just worried,” I felt the hot water running down my back and I looked into Colin’s dark eyes. He was such a handsome guy, and his eyes were my favorite thing about him. For someone who was such an open book, his eyes gave off so such mystery. He was religious about being clean shaven. In all the years you knew him, he would shave the little stubble he had every Sunday morning. And that smile - got it was intoxicating.

He kissed my forehead sweetly, and I felt a warmth in my heart that I dreamed about feeling for someone since I was a child. I would always love Colin, but I had to love myself more?

Colin grabbed the shampoo bottle from the side shelf in the shower and started to ramble on about work, what he could discuss publicly that is. I knew the case meant everything to him, and he was so proud of how close he was getting to cracking it.

I watched him shampoo his hair as he moved me around so that he was now under the water stream, and he turned it down a bit. He wasn’t one to enjoy my scolding showers.

“Oh, I forgot - You sure you want me in a black tux? I was thinking maybe Navy would look good with the Carnations. What do you think?” Colin looked at me, and I realized he was talking about the wedding- the wedding we were were going to have in two fucking weeks.

“Whatever you think is best honey,” I stated as I decided it was time to get out of the shower before I turned into a prune.

“It’ll be a surprise at the alter then,” Colin called out as I wrapped myself in a fresh towel. “I still can’t believe you’ll finally be Mrs. Zabel.” I could hear the smile in his voice as I snuck out of the bathroom and walked slowly back to our shared bedroom, quietly crying the whole way there.

THE NEXT MORNING

I sat at the kitchen island, my hands shaking as they hovered over the keyboard of my computer. I took in a breath and held it there for a moment. I heard the door of the bedroom open and watched Colin walk briskly around the kitchen. He plopped in a bagel and poured a cup of coffee. We did this dance almost ever single day. I got my computer open and turned on while he got himself breakfast and answered work emails from his phone. He slid me over a mug, he knows just how I like my coffee- black, like how my soul was feeling.

“It might be a late night for me tonight, babe,” he called out to me, but I didnt respond I just watched as he spread cream cheese on his barely toasted bagel.

I pressed the enter key on my keyboard and the swoosh should of the email I just sent expelled from my computer. I closed the laptop and stared at Colin. He was leaning over the island in our shared kitchen in our shared apartment that we shared our lives together in for so many wonderful years.

He picked up the bottom half of his bagel - he always ate the bottom part first. He was always one for silly repetitions in his life. He took a bite and scrolled through his phone. I watched him swallow and I decided it was time to speak.

“I’m calling off the wedding.”

Colin’s eyes shot towards you. He instantly turned white, and his face twisted in confusion.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” I knew he was hoping that I was joking or that he had heard me wrong.

“I’m not in love with you anymore, Colin…..I’m moving to DC at the end of the week.”

He slowly put down the bottom half of his bagel. He pressed his lips together as he didn’t dare break eye contact with me. I had done what my heart was yelling at me not to do, but one day I just hoped he’d understand why.

That was the bitter end for us, and as much as it had pained me to do so I did it. Colin was always one to play it safe in life. I watched him eat the bottom half of his plain bagel every morning for the whole existence of our relationship. I knew he was one to never break a habit and that loved to please me in any way he could - no matter how much it hurt him. I wanted him to eat the top half some days, and I wanted him to go out and do things that scared him and excited HIM- I wanted him to do things for Colin, and nobody else. I know he loved me, but sometimes I worried he just loved the idea of me. The wife that he never fought with, the one he proposed to on Christmas just because the Jewelry store adds had told him it was the perfect time to do it. He played everything in his life so safe, and he deserved so much more.

19 Months Later

“HEY LADY!” My editor barged into the room as I was packing up some of my work things. I was about to travel home for thanksgiving. I wasn’t thrilled about both since my mother had practically disowned me since my split with Colin. I’m not sure if I had ruined her reason to brag to her friends, or that I had cost her close to 10 grand in wedding deposits she couldn’t get back.

“Please tell me you have a reason for me to stay at work this week?” I asked with pleading eyes. I gave her a small frown and put up my praying hands. She laughed and handed me a printed copy of the paper from my home town.

“Body of a young girl found dead in Chester County”

I grabbed the paper from her and skimmed the article. I tried not to focus on the grammatical errors of the small towns horrific paper, but of the intensity and lack of information that this case had.

“Wow, this is horrible. It reminds me of that girl… Katie… Katie something. She went missing a few years ago. I wonder if it’s related?” I handed back the article and continued to stuff my paperwork into my backpack.

“Girl, do you not get what I’m getting at here?” You glanced at your editor and cocked your eyebrow. I had no idea what she was getting at actually.

“You need to cover this story. I want a piece upon your return about how you went home on thanksgiving to learn of a murder that happened in your small town. I think it’ll blow up- considering it clearly isn’t getting the media coverage it deserves with this shit piece the wack job paper of theirs came out with.” I laughed and shook my head, who in DC wanted to hear about my small town, and a murder there. Of course, this was a terrible story and sad for all involved, but who would want to read about this girls case in the Washington Post?

“Look, it’s doing the girl a favor and I don’t think we’ve covered a piece like this in a long time. You can tie it to the brutality epidemic in the world right now! I think you’ll make it brilliant and will keep you focused on work and not stalking your ex.” She laughed at herself and I inwardly cringed at her comment. I had gotten drunk at the work new years party and completely broke down about Colin and how much I googled searched him.

I sighed and grabbed the paper from her hands.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I rolled my eyes as she jumped up and down for a moment before turning to leave my office.

“I knew I loved ya the moment I met ya!” She yelled back as she exited the room. I looked down at the paper before shoving it into my bag. This was going to be a long week…

#evan peters x you #evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters imagine #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x you

[jaa1682-27]

Me: Okay, Brain. Think about what happens next in this chapter.

Brain: *Skips three chapters ahead*

Me: No, no. This one, this chapter, the one we are writing right now.

Brain:.......*47 scenes forward*

Me: NO

#writing #writer #writing community #writer stuff

[jaa1682-27]

Black fic writers don’t get enough credit for what they contribute to fandoms and it’s insane.

[jaa1682-27]

[jaa1682-27]

ariana grande & evan peters in "we can't be friends (wait for your love)"

#ariana grande #arianagrande #evan peters #dailygrande #eternal sunshine

[jaa1682-27]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[jaa1682-27]

😍😍😍

colin zabel x black y/n

#mare of easttown #evan peters #black y/n

[jaa1682-27]

🥰😍😍👍🏽

Prince "F*cking" Charming

Summary: Finding out your ex boyfriend of 9 years was engaged and expecting not even a year after you broke up shouldn’t make you feel this… bad. When your friends take you out for a Girls night, Galentine’s, the night before Valentine’s after swearing off men for good, of course you ran into the one man that made you believe that maybe there’s a Prince Charming for everyone out there.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, alcohol, flirting, a kiss or two

A/N: I know it's sisters before misters, but if the sisters want you to meet Marcus Pike, then you do it lmao. Another plotbunny from yesterday's yearning session with @sizzlingcloudmentality

The last thing you wanted to do today was going out.

Generally you were a pretty happy person? Okay the question mark was there sometimes, but yeah. You were happy.

As happy as a woman in her mid thirties could be who was pressured from all sides when she will finally settle down, find a man and have some babies.

Family really was annoying sometimes.

It was not for your lack of trying though.

When you met your ex 9 years ago you really thought that it would be him you would end up with. You’ve had it all. The love, the job, the house. You were happy. In love.

Yet it never seemed to… progress. There were discussions about getting married and having children, but it never happened.

So last year, after a long talk you decided it was better to break up. There were no hard feelings. At least not until yesterday when a mutual friend asked you if you had heard about the engagement and the baby on the way from your ex and his new girlfriend apparently.

“Twins. They are having twins! Can you believe that?”

You couldn’t.

So you wanted to spend the day of pink hearts, flowers and overpriced candy, Valentine’s day, pretending to work from home in your sweatpants while wallowing in self pity for a day. You deserved that... But Valentine’s Day was tomorrow and your friend had texted you to “dress up, we’re talking you out for Galentine’s day” two hours ago.

You thought about ignoring it for a moment, but you knew they would show up here anyway.

So you sat on your couch, dressed and dolled up, because why the hell not, and waited for them to pick you up.

That was three hours ago. By now you were two drinks deep and didn’t care about the world.

“Who needs men, when we have each other?” your friend exclaimed and you chuckled before you got up.

“I’m getting another round. Be right back you sluts,” you grinned which earned you a slap to your ass. Drunk girls really were a menace sometimes. Grabbing your purse you made your way to the bar, leaning with both arms over the counter as you waited for the barkeeper to look your way. Someone bumped into you and you looked over your shoulder briefly to make out if the person was okay when you were met with warm brown eyes.

When you would explain this moment years later you always said it felt like time stopped as you looked up at him, like a part of you knew that this was the man that finally would give you everything you ever dreamed of.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” he asked and you blinked once before you nodded, blaming your temporary speechlessness on the alcohol.

“Yeah… Yeah I’m okay. Thank you,” you finally said and he drew out a relieved breath. He came to stand next to you at the counter, which gave you time to take him in. He was wearing a brown suit, a blue dress shirt beneath, the tie he was wearing loosened around his neck.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked and you felt your cheeks growing warm when he noticed you checking him out.

“I actually wanted to order another round for our table…” you gestured behind you and he turned his head, all of your friends waving eagerly. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled as he looked back at you.

“Maybe you can stay for one drink? With me?” he tried and you smiled up at him, as you put one hand on his upper arm, fighting the urge to squeeze.

“I…” you turned your head to look at the table your friends were sitting at, giving you thumbs up.

“It’s girls night. And I kind of swore off men last night, so I really shouldn’t be drinking anything with one,” you explained and he sighed.

“Just my luck the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on swore off men before running into me,” he mused and you felt yourself grin up shyly at him.

“I bet you say that to all the girls…” you teased and he shook his head.

“Only the ones who keep talking to me after I run into them,” he winked and you laughed.

“But do not let me interrupt your girls' night. But maybe, once you decide to give mankind another chance, you could call me first?” he asked hopefully, giving you what could only be described as puppy eyes.

“Maybe… I could make an exception…”

“Marcus. Marcus Pike,” he said and you smiled, already pulling out your phone as you introduced yourself.

You handed him your phone where he saved his number.

With drinks and the biggest fucking smile on your face you made your way back to the table were expectant looks welcomed you.

“What?” you snapped.

“What are you doing here? I swear I could see your hearteyes for Prince fucking Charming all the way over here!” your friend asked and you bit your lip as you sat down, your head turning to catch Marcus eyes. He was still standing at the counter, a beer in front of him.

“It’s girls night….” you tried but they weren’t having it.

“The way the man looked after you as you left him, was straight out of a rom com.”

“He did?” you asked and they nodded.

“Totally checked your ass out, babe. If you don’t go over there, I will.”

“Over my dead body,” you glared and she grinned.

“Then get over there. Just make sure you keep the drinks coming.”

An hour later you were sitting in a booth with Marcus and he was asking you about your life. And maybe the last glass of wine hadn’t been the best idea, because you kept imagining all kinds of things Marcus could do with his hand to you besides holding yours, like he had been for the last 12 minutes.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, coming closer and his scent came to your nose. He smelled like cotton and lemon and… something manly that made you positively dizzy.

“I’m thinking the last glass of wine wasn’t the best idea. I can feel my brain trying to get words out that are definitely not appropriate in the presence of a handsome FBI agent,” you said sheepishly. And if the words were a little slurred, it was the wine’s fault.

“Now you got me intrigued,” he grinned, his dimple showing and you wanted to just lean over and…

“WE’RE GOING HOME!” a very loud voice let you jump in your seat, Marcus hand coming to rest on your upper thigh soothingly as the two of you looked at your very drunk friends.

“I think I should call it a night too. Not that I want to but I have to at least pretend to work in the morning….”

“Let me take you home?” Marcus asked and you narrowed your eyes. He chuckled.

“Not like that. I just wanna make sure you,” he turned his head, “and your friends get home safe.”

“You don’t have to, Marcus…” you said and he shook his head.

“I want to.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

You were sitting in the passenger's seat of Marcus' car, your three intoxicated friends on the backseat. Even in their drunk state they had been hesitant to just jump into the car of a man they had never met before, but Marcus flashed his badge and a smile and now they wouldn’t shut up about how aliens must be real.

Because Marcus must know something about aliens, he was working for the FBI after all.

“Nothing? Really Mr. Sexy Agent man?” your friend pouted.

“Sorry. My security clearance isn’t high enough for Area 51,” he chuckled as he drove through the dark streets of the city.

You on the other hand were distracted by his jacket that he offered you after getting out of the bar. It smelled like him and if he noticed that you hadn’t been freezing at all, he didn’t say a word.

When you risked a glance to look at him, you found him smiling at you, as he drove your friends securely to their apartments before you were alone with him as he drove towards your place.

Fresh air after two cocktails and two glasses of wine made you dizzy, and you were suddenly very thankful for Prince Marcus Charming driving you home in his white Audi.

“If I would trust myself to not try to get into your pants I would invite you up. But then we would kiss and make out and maybe you would do something with those biiig hands of yours…” oh no the word vomit started and you couldn’t stop it. “And then you would stay and, you know I have nothing at my place to eat for breakfast. I forgot to get food. And I can’t invite anyone over without the offer of food,” you said with a dreamy smile as he parked the car in front of your building. He was grinning at you as he killed the engine.

“As much as I would like to see your cute tipsy ass try to get into my pants, we should postpone that for when you’re sober,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“You think I’m cute?” you asked.

He just laughed before he got out of his car, walking over to open the passengers door and help you out.

“But I wouldn’t complain about you showing up for breakfast tomorrow. I have the feeling I will be miserable,” you groaned, taking his hand as he walked you over to your door.

“Maybe I’ll just do that,” he said warmly as he stopped, the light outside your building illuminating his soft features like a halo. He was so damn handsome.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered and leant down to softly kiss your forehead.

“Good night Marcus.”

Groaning, you sat in front of your laptop. It was 9:30 in the morning and by some miracle you managed to log into your company network, letting the emails load while you inhaled your first cup of coffee.

You thought your head would hurt more this morning, tipsy you did a good job of taking some painkillers and drinking a bottle of water before bed. As the emails kept loading you walked over to your bedroom, grabbing a blanket. You were cold and hungry but at least you managed to shower before you clocked in.

Your thoughts kept returning to one certain FBI Agent throughout the morning. For a small moment you thought you imagined him but then you found his number in your phone. You wanted to write to him. You wanted to see him.

Your doorbell rang and you frowned, walking over to check who it was.

“Hello?”

“Uhm… It’s Marcus? With breakfast?” a voice answered you were so surprised you let your phone fall out of your hands.

“Oh.. Okay. Wow. Yes. Come up. Apartment 2C,” you said and buzzed him in. Looking around yourself you were glad you had spent the whole saturday cleaning your apartment. You ran to the bathroom, checking your appearance and got out of your robe and into some yoga pants and a cosy sweater, before you heard a knock on your door.

Taking a deep breath as you walked to your door, trying to calm your fast beating heart before you opened the door.

He was… still so damn handsome, today wearing jeans, a sweater and a leather jacket that made him even more sexy.

“I was joking last night,” you said with a small smile.

“I don’t joke when it comes to breakfast. I have pancakes.”

“I love you,” you sighed, your eyes widening when you noticed what you said. He chuckled as you stepped to the side while you bumped your head against the door as he walked in.

He followed you to your kitchen, taking everything out he had brought from a diner while you made him some fresh coffee. You watched him as he set the food on the plates you had taken out of the cabinets. He looked over his shoulder, feeling your eyes on him. When he finished he turned around fully, taking a step towards you so you had to tilt your head up to look into his eyes.

“I did mean that it would be hard to keep my hands to myself when you were in my apartment,” you whispered and he smiled.

“Maybe today I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself,” he said, and you sucked your bottom lip in. His hand came up, his thumb running over your lip, to release it from between your teeth.

“Please kiss me, Marcus,” you sighed.

And then he did.

And it was the first of many Valentine’s days you would spend with Marcus Pike.

[jaa1682-27]

GLEN POWELL in 'Anyone But You' (2023)

#glen powell #anyone but you

[jaa1682-27]

GLEN POWELL Brioni Campaign (Jan 22, 2024)

#glen powell

[jaa1682-27]

Cowboy 😍😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥴🤠👨

As always he’s the very very best!! And an inspiration to me!!!😆😆✨🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️🌻🌻🌻 MY SUNFLOWER

Thank you my dear for this wonderful treat!!🌻🥰🥰

#glenn powell #glen powell