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myfictionaldreams · 2 days

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Juicy

Eddie Munson x big boob fem!reader

summary: the heat causes you to let the girls hang free and it causes Eddie to be a flustered mess

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader has breasts and wears feminine clothing. skin color/ethnicity is not mentioned! Eddie being a flustered cutie. idiots in love :) mentions of high school jocks being gross. 18+ MINORS DNI. smut: heavy making out, grinding, titty sucking, premature ejaculation. mentions of titty fucking and cumming on tits. shitty writing and not proofread.

a/n: hello my honey buns!! i wanted to get something out while i work on some of my current wips. i got inspired to write this bc i have a tig bitties and every time i wear a bra i feel like i'm dying and i'm too insecure to not wear one lmao. also, i just wanted to say that all different shapes and sizes of bitties are beautiful!!! also please be kind! smut is not my strong suit.

The late August heat made living in Hawkins unbearable. That might be an over exaggeration since you've never traveled anywhere outside of your town, but it still felt like the underside of satan's ballsack.

You regret agreeing to hangout with Eddie the minute you saw the afternoon weather forecast and regret it even more when you got into the metalhead's van. With no working a/c in the vehicle, there was no choice but to have the window's down to get some sort of circulation.

It wouldn't be so bad if there was a breeze but the air was dry, burning your lungs with every single intake of oxygen. You could feel the sweat rolling down your spine, making the thin cotton tank top you had on stick to your skin.

The cotton shorts you had on didn't quell any heat that you were feeling, only making your thighs stick together uncomfortably. Eddie being the angel he was, had already stopped at the gas station, picking up whatever snack he thought you might want, including a cherry icee that was already melted.

The sweat the beaded at your hairline, falling down your face like raindrops, matched the sweat on your cardboard cup. Syrupy sweetness coated your tongue as you drank it, coolness going down your throat to extinguish the flames within your body.

You needed to get out his car as soon as possible and into some air conditioning. Eddie on the other hand looked as cool as a cucumber. His cut band tshirt blowing through the warm air, black jeans tight on his lower body, and his brown curls in a low bun.

You almost wanted to hate him for being so calm, never showing any discomfort when it got hot like this. God, you hated the way he looked so relaxed, puffing on his cigarette and driving with one wrist on the steering wheel. The sun shining off of his ringed fingers, the band squeezing at his tiny waist, the black ink on his alabaster skin dancing with every move he took- he was so beautiful and it was making your temperature rise even higher.

When he pulled up to his trailer, you were up and out of the van before he could even pull the keys out of ignition. To your dismay, he was taking his sweet time getting out of the car, making you wait in the blaze of the sun. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the cheeky asshole was doing it on purpose. As he rounds the car, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, a playful smirk paints his lips.

He's definitely doing it on purpose. Asshole.

"Where's the fire, Cherry?" he jests playfully at you, making you scowl even more.

"It's going to be in your hair if you don't hurry the hell up." You yell back at him. A small laugh leaves his pretty lips, shaking his head as he pulls out his key to unlock the door.

"I'll open the door faster if you say please." You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Playing up the part even more, Eddie takes his time putting the key into the door.

"Oh please Eddie, would you be so kind and unlock the door?" You smile sarcastically up at him. He mimics you, straight white teeth flashing brightly in your eyes.

"Now was that so hard?" Scoffing at him, you push right past his body and enter the trailer.

The small a/c unit the sits in the window works overtime, buzzing and rattling loudly, to cool down the small trailer. It feels like heaven when you walk in, the immediate temperature drop makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

Plopping down on the well loved couch, you sprawl your limbs out trying to cool every inch of your skin. Placing the bag of treats on the table, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen to retrieve a beer from the fridge.

"Is Wayne off today?" The absence of the older man only coming to your attention.

"Yeah, he went to Darla's house." Eddie mutters his response as he works the cap of the beer bottle off.

Darla was Wayne's new girlfriend he had been seeing the past couple months. You had fallen victim to many of Eddie's rants about his uncle coming home late and never calling letting his nephew know he was safe.

Humming a response, you turn your attention to the television that's currently playing reruns of The Golden Girls.

Now that you've been in the cool air for not even five minutes, the creeping heat comes back into your body. The culprit being your chest, heat radiating in the cups of your bra. It was uncomfortable already with the weight on your back and shoulders, not to mention the sweat that collected in the fabric.

Jumping up abruptly from your slouched position, you work your hands around your back preparing to take off the article of clothing. . Before you it off, you remember that you're not in your own home and that it might make Eddie uncomfortable.

As he walks in from the kitchen, sipping on his chilled beer, he catches your stare. Raising a brow and removing the bottle from his mouth, he turns to you.

"You okay over there?" He questions you, eyeing your posture and how you look like you've been caught in the act of something you shouldn't be doing.

"I need to take my bra off but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Oh boy is he caught of guard, choking on his spit loudly. His cheeks are tinted a deep red, eyes wide and bulging from his face. Of course he didn't care, you guys were friends and he always wanted you comfortable. The only problem was that you would be braless, sitting next to him.

It's not like you haven't before, any time you wore big baggy shirts he knew you didn't have a bra on, but the extra material of your shirt blocked the visuals of your loose breasts.

When you cock an eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, brown curls bouncing with the movement.

"Y-yeah sure. Ya know what we Munson's say, this land is your land, or whatever." He chuckles nervously eyeing you from where he stands across from you.

Letting out a roaring laugh, you reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, undoing the hook.

"I'm pretty sure Woody Guthrie said that, Eds." Forcing out a small laugh, he watches as you pull the straps down your arms and then pulling the material out from under your white tank top.

Yeah he's going to die right here in the middle of his living room. When you finally pull it from your sticky skin and discard it somewhere on the floor, your nipples pebble up from the cold air. You lean your head back and release a sigh of satisfaction.

You don't see how Eddie's drinking you in right now, how he's staring at the way your nipples are visible through the wet cotton of your shirt, or how he can see the fullness of your chest.

It was no secret that you had a bigger bust than most of the girls in town, earning the nickname of Cherry from all the jocks at school, which you took pride in and eventually took ownership of.

Unlike the jocks, Eddie never made any comments about your bust. Not that he didn't think of them when he was beating off in his room every night, but he never commented on them to you which you appreciated. To him you were just you, double d's or not.

While you were in pure bliss, Eddie was living a nightmare come true. The girl he's had a crush on since middle school is braless in his home, right in front of him. He didn't know how he was going to sit next to you now with the way blood was rushing to his cock, the stiff material of his jeans didn't help his discomfort.

"So, what are we watching today?" Cracking your eyes open to look at your best friend, you could still see him standing in the same spot, staring right at your chest.

Oh. OH. He was staring at your chest. You could have so much fun with this, give him a little taste of his own medicine for his little stunt earlier, making you wait longer in the heat.

"Eds?" Your tone was sinfully sweet. Placing your arms on either side of you, you used your forearms to push your boobs together as best as you can.

"Huh? O-oh yeah. Um, we ugh, we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street." He was tripping on his tongue every other word.

Quickly moving from his spot, he knelt down in front of the television to pop in the horror movie. The boy who was so unbothered by record breaking heat, was now a sweaty, heavy breathing mess because of you.

After starting the movie, he slowly retreats to the couch but as far away from you as humanly possible. Maybe it wasn't that he was hot and bothered by you, maybe he was just uncomfortable with your state of dress.

For the first twenty minutes of the film that's all you could think, trying to figure out what you could do to make the situation better. Without thinking, you take a lollipop out of the bag of goodies he bought, popping it right into your mouth.

You took your time, swirling your tongue around the red candy, hallowing your cheeks every so often. You weren't really paying attention to what you were doing, staring straight ahead at the glowing screen. Eddie was paying attention though, growing unimaginably harder than before.

The movement of Eddie taking the pillow from behind his back and placing it right on his crotch, brings your attention the boy next to you. He wasn't as smooth as he thought, the placement of the pillow gave it away right away. His sweat soaked bangs, bouncing leg, and red cheeks definitely gave it away.

Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you place it down on the discarded wrapper laying on the table. Turning to him, your knees criss cross, you say his name softly.

His head turns with speed when you call him, chocolate brown eyes replaced with the darkness of his pupils.

"Are you okay? You don't seem, well you seem bothered. If it's me not wearing a bra, Eddie I can put it back on." You sputter out, worry rising in your stomach at the thought of making him feel awkward with your braless tits.

Releasing a loud sigh, he runs a hand down his face. "Cherry, I'm not bothered by you not wearing a bra. Well, okay, I am but I'm not uncomfortable."

He's staring right at you, almost like he's waiting for you to catch on but you don't. Eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand what he had just said to you. Before you can ask, he reiterates himself.

"Baby, I'm not bothered because you don't have a bra on. I'm very much the opposite and because I'm a gentleman, I'm trying to make myself calm down the best I can. It's just hard to do that when you're deep throating a sucker right next to me." The last part comes out as a joke, dimpled smile to prove it.

So you were right, he was hot and bothered by you. Just like he made you wait for him, you made him wait even longer to rid himself of his discomfort happening in his pants.

"Well Eds, you know if you wanted to see them all you had to say was please." You tease and he groans loudly, throwing his head back.

"Please, Cherry." He begs and you give in, lying back on the old couch. Beckoning him over to you, you spread your legs to give him room. Like a panther, he pounces on you, smacking his lips to yours.

Its heavy and animalistic the way your tongues attack each other. The lingering taste of beer mixes with the cherry from your candy. When you push your hips up to get some friction on your aching heat, he whimpers in your mouth.

He takes your motions as permission to grind into you, the pressure making both of you moan in unison. Pulling away from your mouth so you two can breathe, he moves to his next target.

The warmth of lips meet the chilled skin of your neck, he kisses all around the precious skin to find that sweet spot. When a wanton moan falls from your red stained lips, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. Sucking and kissing the spot under your ear, you're sure there will be a blotch of purple there.

You hiss out when he runs his teeth along the spot, jerking your hips up in excitement. Moving his face so that he's looking at you, you can see the spit that coat his red swollen lips, the lust the pool in his eyes. He's so pretty like this, so fucking pretty and he's all yours in this moment.

"Can I see your pretty tits, Cherry?" He asks so sweetly, like he didn't just sinfully makeout with you. Nodding in approval, he shakes his head at you.

"I need words, princess." He waits for you, who is currently looking up at him like he's hung the stars and moon. You look so fucked out and so disheveled. He's always known he was going to marry you but when he looks at you he has no doubt that he's going to marry you.

"Please, Eds."

That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling the front of your shirt down, revealing your chest to him. He stays there for a minute, looking unbashful at your tits, like they were the eight wonder of the world.

His unwavering gaze starts to make you insecure, worrying that maybe they weren't as nice as he thought they would be. They were heavy and slightly sagged due to the weight, you had stretch marks that decorated the skin like a zebra.

Pulling your arms up to cover yourself, he grips your wrists and pulls them down. Moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes are much softer.

"Don't hide, please don't hide. Not when I've waited so long to see these." A tingling sensation fills your face, making you smile giddily up at him. When you nod at him, he goes in face first into your chest.

"Fuck, I've dreamt of this for so long." You want to respond but you can't when his mouth is placing pecks to the delicate skin of your breast.

Resuming his motions from before, his hips roll right into yours like a wave crashing on the shore. He's everywhere, filling all your senses. Eddie.Eddie.Eddie. That's all that's in your mind, especially when he places your pebbled nipple in his mouth.

"Fuck, Eddie." You hiss out, reaching your hand to the nape of his neck, placing a gentle pressure to keep him there. His switches between swirling his tongue around the numb and sucking on it.

His other hand snakes up to your abandoned breast, groping the fat of it before his fingers pinch the nipple. It's sinful the way it feels, his hard cock hitting right where you need him, the warm of his mouth, and the moans that you release.

Eddie groans, causing your skin to vibrate. Removing himself from your abused breast, he moves to the other one, finally giving it the same attention as the other.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He groans out, eyes closed in ecstasy, high off the scent and taste of you. His movements start getting faster causing him to moan even louder.

Moving away from your chest, he looks down at you, the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. He looks at the mark he made on your neck, and how your skin shines with his saliva and your sweat. Your pupils are blown wide, lips puffy and shiny. Then he moves his eyes back to your tits, imagining what it would feel like to run his dick on your sternum, how pretty they would look coated in his pearly white cum, and how hot it would be to titty fuck you.

Every possible scenario plays out in his head when he looks at you and it's too much. With one finally grunt, pulled deep from his stomach, he hangs stops all his motions, collapsing onto of you.

Dazed and slightly confused, you let him catch his breathe. When he brings his face out from the crook of your neck, he has a boyish smile pulled on his cheeks.

"Ed, did you just-"

"Cum in my pants like a teenager? Absofuckinglutely, but if give me about five minutes I'll give you everything you want." You reach your hand up to his face, pushing some of the loose hair that fell from his ponytail, behind his hair.

"If you say please, pretty boy."

He didn't need five minutes, instantly getting hard from the sultry tone of your voice.

#:)))#eddie munson #stranger things

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myfictionaldreams · 3 days

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How's your day been going?

Currently I'm writing the most gruesome and messed OC story I've ever written so... Honestly I concern myself sometimes. No progress on my ACOTAR fic yet cuz I need to get this new OC out of my system <3

-☺

Hey it’s ok, just a couple of hours into my night shift (😭), been on so many nights recently I’ve not been able to write but I have a rough outline for your request! I’m very excited to write it just need that time too.

Your OC has me intrigued! Sounds interesting though (I want to read it!) 😁 hope you’re ok and have had a nice Monday!

#☺️#asks*

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myfictionaldreams · 3 days

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Would you ever write a Draco malfoy x reader fic, where maybe she's harry potter sister or maybe a daughter of one of Voldemort followers?

Hello I’ve already written a couple of draco x reader , specially HP sister x Draco fics, you can find them here. They’re titled ‘educational decree’ and ‘our secret’

#anon #asks*#draco Malfoy

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myfictionaldreams · 3 days

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i LOVE your angsty poly!rowaelin x reader fics

can i request more? i will gobble up anything you write not even kidding 💕

some questions are better left alone

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part two) (part three)

Summary: He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?”

Warnings: Angst, drinking, nightmares, small injury, rowan is mean

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: You are so sweet! I swear, angst is my love language. Reader is from a foreign court/country, has magic, and is able to mindspeak - I kept it a bit vague!

I scribbled the note, leaving it on my desk in my room. Going out. Not very descriptive, but I was in a rush, I’d forgotten what night it was, and I’d promised a friend I’d meet them - some bard was coming through.

My mates weren’t opposed to me having friends. They knew I did, I just kept them separated, tried to keep a life separate from the castle.

Maybe I should’ve left a better note, because a certain Wolf showed up halfway through. I caught a whiff of his scent - fresh too, and I knew he was in the damn tavern. But - I didn’t know if he’d come alone or come after me.

“I’ll be right back.” I leaned in, whispering to my friend, and keeping my voice low. I slid through the crowd with ease. I spotted him in a shadowy corner, leaning up against the wall. I dropped the glamor after I got within a few feet of him. His eyes glinted, a smirk crossing his face. He had come here after me, and waited for me to track him down. I let out a long breath, but stood next to him. His eyes were constantly scanning the crowd.

“Why are you here?” I kept my voice low enough that only he could hear me.

“Enjoying the songs, of course.” His voice was honeyed with false innocence, and I could tell he was messing with me.

“You missed the one about you.”

“Shame. Which one?”

I groaned. “I’m not playing into your ego.”

“Pity, maybe I should’ve let them see your note.”

“What’s wrong with my note?” My voice went taut. “And why were you in my rooms?”

“Two words.” He tutted.

“I was in a rush.” I hissed, then he handed me the paper. He took it. “You bastard.” I snarled.

“Calm your tits.” He laughed, “I left a better one - ‘taking Y/N out to have fun for once.’”

“Thank you.” I said, begrudgingly. He did save me some grief. A lot of grief now that I think about it.

“I am a bit hurt you left without me. Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” A shark-like grin appeared on his face.

“Are you going to play nice?” I countered, crossing my arms.

“Me? I’m always nice.” He scoffed. “Besides, I’m your best friend in this world. I have a right to know your other ones.” I rolled my eyes, even though the statement warmed my heart - just a bit.

“Alright. Best friend.” I teased, “Are you going to scare them off?”

“Do your mates know about them?”

“Yes.” I sighed.

“And who your mates are?”

“Indeed.” I fought back my annoyance.

“They’re not scared?” He raised his eyebrows. Any sane person would be intimidated by the Queen and King of Terrasen.

“I won’t let their majesties anywhere near them.” He chuckled, but I could tell he understood. I wasn’t ashamed of my friends, not by any means, but if either of my mates somehow thought they were a threat … it would make things very difficult. I pushed off the wall, and led him back through the crowd. I reached our booth, about halfway down the wall and with a good view of the stage, and dropped it. Instead of two benches, it was rounded, one long bench around a circular table. Cian, Isla, Effie, and Arran. To their credit, they only gaped for a few seconds, before shuffling around to make room for both of us. I scooched in, and let Fenrys sit next to me.

I gestured towards each of them, “Effie, Arran, Isla, Cian,” And then towards Fenrys. I was halfway tempted to introduce him as ‘pain in my ass,’ or ‘bastard’, but I went for something that would piss him off more. “Lord Moonbeam.” I bit my lip as he stomped on my foot.

“Please don’t call me that. It’s Fenrys.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Isla squeaked, her face bright red. The others echoed the sentiment, but thankfully not looking at him like he’s a God. I saw the way he was eyeing her,

Are you really going to bed my friends? I said in his mind, a bit louder than necessary.

Why would you deny them a good time?

I swear to the Gods Fenrys.

Calm your tits.

That’s twice you’ve mentioned my tits. Should Aelin be worried?

Don’t you dare. He growled, but didn’t use that phrase again.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he got along well with them. He charmed them easily - none of the bitter bastard I’m used to. He and Isla, to my chagrin, got along very well. I didn’t move to interrupt or interfere, even though I wanted to keep them as far away from each other as possible. They could be cute together, but I had a feeling Fenrys was toying with her - flirting for fun. Maybe she was doing the same. I didn’t know her that well, after all, only meeting her a few weeks ago.

A few hours later, and after several drinking contests, I was feeling very tipsy. Maybe even drunk. Definitely drunk based on how the room spun. But, with a glamor firmly in place, I’d managed to drink a group of soldiers under the table. Where are they from? I have no idea. But every time one started to eye me in a more-than-friendly way, they seemed to pale, and look away very quickly. It took me a few times to figure out Fenrys was glaring daggers at them. I stomped on his foot.

“Leave them alone.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look. “They don’t deserve you looking like you’ll murder them.”

“You’re not doing anything.” He countered.

“I am ignoring them.” I emphasized. “And that works well enough.”

Effie returned, sliding a goblet across the table towards me. Fenrys snatched it before I could, and took a sip. He nearly spit it out, his face turning red, and shoved it back at me. “What is that?” He coughed.

“Apparently something too strong for your delicate sensibilities.” I took a large sip, enjoying the warmth it provided as the liquid burned, sliding down my throat.

He gaped at me - but I kept drinking it anyway.

“It’s a homemade liquor.” Effie replied instead. He grimaced, staring at my glass like it might jump out and attack him. “It grows on you.” She added, biting back a laugh at his expression.

I finished it, and stood to bring it back up to the bar, but swayed slightly on my feet. Before I could grip the table, Fenrys’s arm shot out to steady me.

“We’re going home.” He stood.

“You don’t get to make my decisions.”

Effie grabbed the glass from my hands. “It’s almost closing anyways.”

“Traitor.” I mumbled. The others had left ten minutes ago.

Effie lived above the bar - how we met in the first place. “Go home.” She ordered instead, giving Fenrys a look. One that said - get her home safe, like I needed a minder.

He only laughed and looped an arm through mine, half-dragging me out the door.

“You’re not nearly as drunk as me.” I complained, disentangling my arm once we’d left the building. I watched my feet carefully on the cobblestones.

“I didn’t beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“So that’s who they were.” I mumbled, and apparently wasn’t paying attention, because I walked right into a column.

“Fuck.” I muttered, stumbling backwards and pressing a hand against my face. My cheekbone will be bruised. Fenrys grabbed me under my arms before I could fall, and howled.

“Asshole.” I muttered, shaking off his grip. He looped his arm through mine, and didn’t let me wiggle out this time. Thankfully, we were almost to the gates and Fenrys quit singing. I tugged my hood up as we got closer to the castle. Nobody needs to know just how drunk I am.

“They’ll see you stumbling.” He drawled.

“They’ll know to mind their business.” I snipped back at him.

“Oooh. Someone’s not looking forward to seeing their mates.” He teased me, his voice a sing-song. I sent a vulgar gesture his way, and he just snorted, dragging me through the halls and depositing me at their door. I waited until he’d walked away before heading to my rooms instead, no sense in waking them up. Besides, on the nights I go out I usually sleep in my own rooms anyways, wanting to wash the alcohol off - and Aelin and Rowan need time alone. They don’t say it, but they were a couple long before me. Maybe I’m assuming things. I’m too drunk to think too much.

Normally Y/N stays in her rooms if she’s gone out, and they won’t argue or try to drag her into their rooms. If she needs space, they’ll let her have it.

But, tonight, Rowan had a feeling. A feeling he needed to be there. To see her. Like something might be wrong. He slipped out of bed, looking at the clock. Three hours past midnight. She should be back by now.

“Rowan?” Aelin mumbled sleepily, her eyes opening.

“I’m going to check on Y/N.”

Those turquoise eyes opened further. “I’ll come with you.” She yawned. He didn’t fight his wife as she climbed out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it around herself. They moved quickly and silently, through the passage that connects both of their rooms.

He slowly pushed the door open. Asleep, sprawled out on her side, on the couch.

Safe - but a giant blue bruise blooming on her cheek. And absolutely reeking of alcohol. Did she get into some sort of brawl? He’d kill Fenrys. Slowly. Aelin placed a hand on his arm, but he could tell she was just as angry.

“Y/N.” A voice murmured, and I felt a hand running down my arm. A mumbled, some intelligible noise.

“Y/N. Wake up.” The voice, feminine, was more insistent. Aelin. Why was Aelin in here?.

Her eyes opened, glassy, pupils slightly dilated. Drunk. And very drunk. How fucking much did she drink? Y/N could almost drink Aelin under the table.

“Petal.” His mate's voice was low. “Did you get in a fight?”

“A what?” She was confused.

“Did you get in a rutting brawl?” I said from the door, not bothering to keep my voice low. Aelin turned and glared at me.

“What?”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb.”

Her hand went up to her cheek, wincing, and she threw her head back in laughter, nearly howling. “I walked into a pillar.” She said in between laughs.”

Aelin was biting back a laugh, but I was just getting more pissed. Maybe it was a bit funny - but she was drunk enough she got herself hurt.

“Where was Fenrys?” My sharp tone had Aelin cutting a look at me. Don’t start.

“Caught me before I could hit the ground.” Her words slurred together.

“Come on.” Aelin tugged at her arm, pulling her up. “I’m not going to let you choke on your own vomit.”

She looked offended. “I am not throwing up.” The words came out very insistent. Aelin gave her a bemused smile, but pulled her up anyway, leading her towards her bathroom. “You reek.” She told her.

“That is rude.” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

I rolled my eyes, but followed them, grabbing a nightgown for Y/N to put on.

“What do I smell like?” She asked Aelin, stumbling next to her. Aelin’s arm wrapped around her waist holding her closely.

“Right now? Alcohol.”

Y/n let out an over dramatic sigh. “No, what’s my scent? You’re jasmine and lemon verbena, and he’s pine and snow.”

“Nutmeg and honey.” I answered from behind her, and her head turned, giving me a goofy smile.

“That’s nice.” She mumbled. I fought the smile threatening to form on my face.

Aelin was very sweet, helping me get in the tub, even washing me. I tried to stop her, but she cut me a glare. A nasty one. After that I let her.

“Who did you go see?” She asked, scrubbing my shoulders.

“Some Bard came into town.” I said, before sighing. Her touch feels incredible. “You have magic fingers.” I told her.

Her eyes crinkled, “and you’re drunk.”

“Maybe a bit. Fenrys told me I beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“The Bane?” Rowan’s voice came from the door. Low. And deadly low.

“That’s what he said.” I confirmed, looking at Aelin instead, who pressed her lips in a tight line. “What’s wrong with the bane?”

“They have a reputation.”

“I have a reputation.” I exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” Her voice grew a bit shrill.

“I drank half of them under the table.”

“Right.” She breathed out.

She thought Rowan was going to explode when he heard her say she has a reputation. He relaxed - barely. He needed something to do or he might blow up.

“Rowan get a towel.” I ordered without looking, and heard him moving around, before the soft fabric was pressed in my hands. “Help her out.”

“I don’t nee-” I pressed my finger to her lips. It’ll help him. I told her, speaking mind to mind.

Okay. Her sweet voice floated through my mind.

Even though anger rolled from him in waves, his hands were gentle as he lifted her out, holding her steady. I wordlessly handed him the towel, and gave him the chance to fuss, slipping a nightgown over her - one he’d already picked out. He went far enough to make her clean her mouth, and dried her hair for her. That brought a smile to my lips.

“Thank you.” She told him after, and me.

She tried to wobble off towards her bed, her legs shaky under her. I cut her off before she could reach the door. “You’re coming with us.”

“But it’s your-”

“No buts.” But … What was she going to say? Before ‘it’s your-’

“It’s our what?” Rowan asked for me.

She frowned. “Your night. For the two of you.”

I frowned, looking at Rowan. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” When she’s more likely to remember it. He added to me.

“Nothing to talk about.” She mumbled, but let him pick her up, carrying her back to our room.

I groaned as the morning light hit me, streaming through the windows. My head started absolutely pounding. “Gods.” I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes - like I might shove the headache away. A rough hand tugged one of mine away, pressing a glass vial into it. I peeked the free eye open, squinting to see Rowan.

“I’m surprised.” I murmured. A pain tonic. “Thank you.”

“We need to talk.” He grunted. “And I don’t want to deal with your whining.” Several months ago, I might’ve been hurt by the comment, but I was used to it by now, and ignored the second part, swigging the slightly vile liquid down. Fighting back the urge to make a face.

“One day I’ll figure out how to make those taste better.” I glared at the offending piece of glass. Rowan snatched it out of my hands.

“Lets go.” He jerked his head.

“Alright alright.” That’s when I felt the heat on my face. I looked across in the mirror. A large purple bruise bloomed across my feet. “What did I do?” My eyes were wide.

“You don’t remember?” He snorted, and left the room.

“Bastard.” I muttered under my breath, low enough he wouldn’t hear, and grabbed a robe before following him. “What did I do last night?” I repeated, walking into the sitting room and digging through my mind for what the hell might’ve happened.

He didn’t answer, pouring tea instead. “Where’s Aelin?” I tried.

“Training.” He said curtly.

“Rowan.” I said quietly. “What happened?” My memories cut off right before leaving the Tavern.

He shoved the cup in my hands, watching and waiting for me to take a sip. I did, and waited for him to respond.

“What do you remember?” He questioned, his voice was cold - usually meaning I’m about to be extensively lectured or punished for something.

“Up until leaving, with Fenrys.” He can almost always tell when I’m lying.

“You hurt yourself. Walking into a pillar.”

I sucked my lips in, fighting the urge to laugh. “Of course I did.” I choked out.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny. What if Fenrys wasn’t with you?”

“I have other friends.” I countered, crossing my arms.

“Who we’ve never met.” His words came out flat. Emotionless.

“Would you like to meet them?” I said, feeling a bit on edge. “Do you not trust me to be a good judge of character?” That wasn’t exactly fair … but I didn’t and don’t need them to approve of my friends.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He growled. “Are you embarrassed by us? Do you not want them to know you’re with us?”

Cruel. He was playing dirty. “Of course not. They know” I kept my voice calm.

“Then why?”

“You never asked.” I countered. It’s true.

“You never asked to meet our friends, and we introduced you.”

My breaths got heavier. This wasn’t fair, that’s not the same thing. “When you introduced me, I was just a member of a foreign court, a delegate.”

He stalked up to me, standing so close that if I took a deep breath, my breasts would brush against him. “Was? Aren’t you still just a member of that court?” His voice was taunting, and cruel. Absolutely cruel. He meant for his words to hurt, and I could feel the slight satisfaction running through him when it did, but it was quickly pushed out by regret.

“Maybe I am, and maybe it’s time I go home for a bit.” Silver might’ve lined my eyes, but I hit right back. I turned sharply on my heel, walking silently towards my rooms, out the main door. I didn’t look back as I closed it softly, a slight click.

He didn’t follow, and maybe that’s what hurt the most.

I collapsed on my bed, my knees pressing into my elbows, my head held in my hands, trying to figure out what about last night set him off. Made him so angry he’d say those things. Not that I acted much better.

I wanted him to follow me. To tell me not to go - or to yell at me. Something. I paced for the better part of an hour, before deciding to go back. Porting off back home wouldn’t do anything, it would just make things worse.

I took the direct passage this time, hearing another door creak open at the same time as mine. Rowan looked directly at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” The same cruel tone as earlier. Maybe I imagined that regret. I couldn’t say anything, or my voice might’ve broken. I took a step back, closing the door.

I heard Aelin’s voice, “gone where?” But I’d already turned, heading back. “Rowan. What did you do?”

Is this what the rest of my life will be like? Cruel barbs, hurtful words from both sides. A traitorous thought ran through my mind, why couldn’t it just be Aelin? But I dismissed that immediately. I couldn’t imagine not having both of them, not having two mates. It would be wrong, it wouldn’t feel complete. But for them - they could imagine it, they’ve lived it, and likely were perfectly fine before I came along. The two of them fit. Balanced each other perfectly.

Am I some kind of wrench thrown in? A piece being forced into a puzzle, one that doesn’t quite fit? I’ve heard of mating bonds being rejected before. Ours is already sealed but … Even thinking about it brings a sharp pain in my chest. Gods they’re already a part of me, dug in so deep it would take something horrible and cataclysmic to drive me away from them.

I hadn’t told them I loved them. They hadn’t told me. A final barrier that hasn’t been crossed.

I sought out Fenrys around lunch, convincing him to come eat with me in my rooms. He seemed wary, considering this is definitely out-of-character for me.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, shoving a tart in his mouth.

“What were Rowan and Aelin like before me?”

He choked slightly, coughing into his hand, but finishing the food. I watched him intently. I needed to know. Had to know.

“Fine. They were fine, at least it seemed that way.” He stared back at me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m an outsider.” I started. He gave me a look that said, no shit. “I don’t … I don’t know if I belong here.”

“I was an outsider.” Fenrys leaned back. “You know I’m from Doranelle. It was difficult at first, but I found my place.” He spit out the country’s name, like it was poison.

“You rejected Doranelle.”

“I did.” He nodded, his tone cautious, like he knew where I was headed.

“I don’t reject my home.”

“You can belong to more than one place.” He argued.

“But me being here is causing an issue.”

“Rowan and Aelin fought. Still fight sometimes. Does that mean they don’t belong together?” Fenrys is more perceptive than people give him credit for.

“They’re different.”

“How?” He sounded a bit exasperated.

“Because they share bonds together I never will.” That truth finally came out. “And if there was a situation they had to …” My voice broke.

He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?”

I nodded. A warning - if those questions were brought up … the results that come out might cause irreparable damage. Sometimes those things are better left swallowed. At the same time, I want to know my place with them. We ate in silence for a few minutes before the door breezed open. Aelin, I’d know the jasmine and lemon verbena anywhere.

“Really?” She sighed, “Choosing that dog over me?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a choice.” She raised an eyebrow, but sat next to me, grabbing some sweets.

“You always have the best sweets.” She popped a truffle in her mouth, moaning.

“And you always raid my collection.”

“They’re bought on Crown gold.” She winked. Fenrys winced across from me, the action thankfully going unnoticed by Aelin, who had her eyes closed.

I didn’t reply, but drank some water instead, the chocolates suddenly seemed unappetizing. “I do keep them just for you.” I covered smoothly. She placed a grateful kiss on my cheek, before turning, throwing her legs over my lap and lounging on the couch. I absentmindedly rubbed circles into her calves.

“I heard you beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest. Aedion is ashamed. I’m quite proud.” She grinned.

“Are you complimenting someone else's drinking prowess?” Fenrys looked amused, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“I’m giving credit where credit is due.”

“Very kind of you.” I kept a smile. A forced one, and kept rubbing circles into her legs. Where credit is due. Drinker, bed warmer, what else? Aelin seemed to notice the shift, because she kicked Fenrys out, he left with a tight glance between the two of us, but no complaints.

“What’s wrong with you?” She nudged my thigh with her toe.

I flinched slightly. “A bit homesick.” Close enough.

“Rowan told me about that.” I could see the bored expression on her face from the corner of my eyes. She’s keeping a tight lid on her emotions.

“I sometimes say things I regret.” Regretting something doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

“We all do.” I could hear the same echo, doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Ask the damn question Y/N. I chided myself, I can’t put words into her mouth. “Did he mean it?” The words came out quickly.

“Isn’t that a question you should ask him?”

She has a point, so I countered with something I should ask her. “How do you feel about it? Both things.” Please don’t make me repeat them. I pleaded to her silently. She took some pity on me.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends, but I understand we can be … intimidating. But I don’t know if you’re keeping them from us because of that, or if you’re scared we’ll drive one of them off.” I waited for her to continue. There wasn’t technically a question there. “Do you want to be a member of this court? Would that mean you’re choosing?”

Choosing. Right. Absolute loyalty - something I can’t promise. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“You’re our mate.” She said softly. “And you have your place here.”

“Are you telling me to know my place?” Maybe that wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t say that.” She said sharply. But you didn’t not say it. Gods I wanted to hear all of the things that weren’t said, but I wanted them to soothe me. I don’t want the truth right now. I want sweet things meant to make me feel better. I’d even take little lies over these tiny cracks I’m feeling. The faltering, the hesitation. “Are you having trouble adjusting?”

“Aelin it’s been nearly two years.”

“And we’re immortal.”

“I’ve found a life here.” We’re both skilled at non-answers. I still hadn’t looked at her, couldn’t meet her gaze. Around her, and him, my eyes tend to show everything. A wall I can’t seem to put up.

“Look at me.” Kind, but unyielding. I do.

Tears are threatening to flood down her face, I can see it. I can’t help but think maybe she’s being a bit oversensitive. I’ve seen her in her own court .. well, the one she doesn’t really claim. Tough love? Or soft?

“Was it better without me?”

Oh Gods I did not expect that. I moved fast, tugging her to straddle my lap. “Don’t ever say that.” My voice was harsh, my hand gripping her chin, making sure she looked directly at me. “Did we make you feel that way?”

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, I just noticed it was bloodied and bruised - like she’d been biting on it all day. “I don’t know how much of it is just in my head.” So we did make her feel like that, at least partially.

“We can’t reassure you or fix ridiculous notions if you don’t tell us.”

She laughed darkly, pushing my hand away from her face, and turning her head. “That’s part of the problem. They’re ridiculous to you.” I wrenched her head back to face me.

“Don’t look away from me.” I snarled, holding her even when she flinched. “They are ridiculous, even if you believe them. We weren’t better off without you. You’re a wonderful part of us, part of us we didn’t know was there. Just like we’re a part of you. You belong with us.” I emphasized. “Come to us when you feel this way. Let us fix it.”

“There isn’t anything to fix.” Her eyes kept steady on mine, although I could see her temptation to look away.

“Then tell me exactly what’s been running through your head.” She swallowed harshly. “You either know it’s wrong, or you’re scared to bring it up.” Her eyes gave it away. Both.

“Can we talk about this later?” She pleaded, breaking eye contact, her bottom lip quivering.

“Look at me.” I gritted my teeth, and she did. The vulnerability in her eyes made me sigh. “Promise you’ll actually talk about it.”

I watched her hesitate, but she did promise.

Falling asleep was uncomfortable. There was a tension drifting between the three of us, but I didn’t feel like talking about it yet, and they respected that. Barely, I could see both of them aching to have the conversation - to get it out of the way, but I needed time to gather my thoughts. A night to sleep on it.

Eventually we did drift off to sleep.

“Leave.” Rowan said harshly, his face set in a nasty look. One I’d only seen him give to people who were rude to Aelin or I. What did I do?

“Leave.” Aelin repeated his words with that same look. It was unnatural, it wasn’t them.

“But-”

“Now.” He growled, taking a menacing step towards me.

Another voice came from behind me. “I lied, they were better without you.” I whirled around. Fenrys. The look, they all had the same one.

“I can be better.” I stuttered through the words.

“You don’t get it.” Aelin laughed harshly. “We don’t want you.”

Rowan shoved me through the gates, just a bag in my hands. “Step foot in Terrasen again, and you’re dead.”

They slammed shut in front of me.

“No, no, no, no.” I whispered, tears running down my face, my entire body shaking.

“Y/N.” A disembodied voice said, repeatedly.

“It’s a dream.” My eyes flew open, I felt magic flooding around me. A hand rubbed my back. “Breathe, breathe darling.” Aelin’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. A dream, it was a nightmare.

I heard Rowan, his voice strained. “Bring your magic back in. Call it back to you.”

I did, and it came back joyfully, swirling against the shield of wind holding it in, with teasing pokes, before flying back into me, and the room was encased in moonlight.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Please, don’t be. I’ve burned several bed sheets before.” Her voice was light, a smile on her face. “Besides, your magic isn’t scary, it’s quite beautiful actually.” I could feel her magic bubbling, wanting out to play, mine reacted in kind.

“Tomorrow.” Rowan said, and we turned in sync to glare at him. The serious look on his face remained, and Aelin huffed before tugging me into her arms - pointedly leaving him out.

#my babies #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitehorn #tog

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myfictionaldreams · 4 days

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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 | dark!jim hopper x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | smoking with eddie was supposed to help you relax... instead, it forced you to decide how far you're willing to go to keep your record clean.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | dubcon/noncon smut (oral m receiving and creampie), slight innocence kink, significant age gap, semi-public sex, kinda mean hopper, handcuffs, coercion, bargaining, abuse of power, very slight/ambiguous eddie x reader if you squint, thicc pre-season 4 hopper the way god intended, slight angst

Eddie did have a tendency to get a little paranoid during a smoke session— a side effect of the product— but maybe you should’ve listened to him this time.

“Do you hear that?” he hissed as you handed the rolled paper back to him. “Dude, there’s someone out there!"

“Who would be in the woods, this far from town, this late at night?” you rolled your eyes.

Well, the answer to that question is two-fold: stoners, and someone who’s looking for them.

A flashlight suddenly appeared from the trees, and your eyes went wide.

"Shit!" Eddie yelped, jumping up and tossing the joint— even though it was quite too late for that— and starting to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for somewhere to go. But he couldn't exactly hide behind a tree, because this wasn't a cartoon, and getting back in the car wouldn't really get him anywhere.

So, he ended up basically circling the van and slamming directly into Chief Hopper who looked even more pissed than he had when you first spotted him.

"Uh, hey— funny running into you here, Mr. Chief, sir," Eddie joked as you sighed in disappointment and irritation at his idiocy.

"Get back over there, dummy," Hopper groaned as he shoved Eddie aside, tossing the guy into you— you would've both fallen over if you hadn't basically caught him, and your friend looked pretty disoriented by the whole thing.

The chief flicked off his flashlight; it wasn’t actually really necessary, with how bright the moon was tonight, but your eyes had to adjust to the dark all over again.

"Two kids smokin' dope in the woods," Hopper observed. "Munson, this is far from our first conversation— but you—"

He ran his gaze over you as you leaned back against the back of the van, and you felt conflicted about your body's response to his sizing-up.

"I expected better from you."

He reached for the cuffs at his belt, quickly grabbing Eddie by the elbow and turning him around with an unceremonious thud against the van.

"H-hey, not so rough," Eddie chuckled thinly, "it's my first time."

You rolled your eyes; did he always have to make stupid jokes like that? "It is most certainly not, Munson," Hopper returned firmly. "And I'm sure the judge will take that into account before he goes easy on you again. You might wanna practice that 'not so rough' line again before you end up in jail, kid."

Eddie winced, and not from the tightness of the cuffs. He was finally taking this seriously— finally realizing he was looking at more than community service or a fine this time.

Hopper stepped up to you next, but you didn't put up nearly as much of a fight— and he was more gentle with you, far more… he even seemed to linger for a moment as he held your wrist.

It was incredibly subtle, but it was all it took for you to know you had a chance. A chance you were just desperate enough to take.

"Why?" you asked suddenly, heart already racing.

"Hm?"

"Why did you expect better from me?"

There was a silent moment as Hopper considered that question, and Eddie gave you a confused look.

"I heard you were a good girl," Hopper eventually answered.

You smirked a bit, turning around to face the chief with a feigned look of confidence. "Well, you heard wrong."

"V'never heard of you gettin' in this much trouble before," he replied. "Not with the law, at least."

"That's ‘cause I don't do bad things to get into trouble, sir," you added pointedly, looking up at him and seeing the look in his eyes change a bit. "I do bad things to get out of trouble."

You didn't really notice him getting closer until you felt it— felt that gap close as his body brushed against yours, and fuck he was tall 'cause you had to crane your neck all the way back to keep your eyes on his face (though they did briefly dart down to the badge on his chest).

"You know, I never saw you smoke," he noticed, voice lowering. "Maybe you were just an innocent bystander. You kinda have that look about you— innocent…"

He ran his finger over your jaw, until he was lifting your chin a little too forcefully.

"I like that," he added.

Your stomach dropped, but you couldn't back away— he had you pressed up against the van, every part of you was at his mercy now, even your freedom.

"Don't fucking touch her, pig," Eddie growled.

"Eddie, shut up," you snapped at him, not wanting him to dig the hole any deeper— or blow your chances of getting him out of it.

“Why don’t you get in the van and mind your own business, son,” Hopper encouraged, stepping away from you to hold up the key for Eddie’s cuff’s teasingly. “Think you can do that?”

Eddie sneered at first, looking away. “Ed, please,” you said, a little softer, and he sighed. Hopper approached Eddie, who looked like he was barely containing his rage and disgust, as the chief unlocked his cuffs less than a minute after he’d put them on.

“Old creep…” Eddie muttered under his breath when he was freed, rubbing his wrists nervously, before he looked at you. “Are you seriously gonna—?”

"Eddie," you said sternly. "Get. in. the van."

He groaned but obeyed, walking past you both with a grimace, hopping up in the driver's seat and shutting the door behind him.

"That your boyfriend?" Hopper asked when you were (sort of) alone.

You sighed. "Just a friend," you insisted.

"Hm," he replied, smirking a little. "Bet he wants you."

"What makes you think that?"

"'Cause who wouldn't?" he purred. "Body like this…"

You shivered as his hand ran down your back, slowing down as it slid over the curve of your ass.

"A boy that age would have no idea what to do around a body like yours, honey," Hopper added, humming as he brought his hand back up. "Need a real man to take care of all this."

"Didn't think this was about you taking care of me, Hop," you returned, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at him with his lip between his teeth. "Thought it was about working my way out of these cuffs."

He grinned at you, though it wasn't exactly a friendly smile. "No, baby— the cuffs are staying on."

As he pulled you into him, you felt a firm bulge rub against your hip; you gasped a little, fighting the urge to pull away, and tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss your neck. "Eddie, too," you whispered. "If we do this, no charges for Eddie."

Hopper grunted disapprovingly, but you looked up with him with your best ‘please, Daddy’ eyes and bit your lip slightly. It wasn't quite enough for him, though. "What's in it for me if I get your friend off?"

"Whatever you want," you blurted out before you really considered what that might entail— you just couldn't let Eddie go to jail.

He purred and grabbed your ass tighter. "You drive a hard bargain, honey. But I can't promise anything until you show me what you can do."

Figuring what that likely meant, you slid down until you were on your knees, keeping your eyes up— on him. It would’ve been harder to keep your balance with your hands behind your back if it weren’t for the van’s bumper right behind you to lean on. “Y’gonna get it out for me?” you asked him expectantly, and he smirked at you a bit as he reached for his belt.

There was something about the way he sighed as he did it, about the way he had to reach under his thick belly to do this, about the way his heavy belt clinked as he opened it… you told yourself this was just about the bargain, but you knew there was more to it than that, on some level.

His cock was only half-hard when he pulled it out of his jeans, but already so thick— you were salivating already, but pretty fucking nervous, too. It was pretty overwhelming to be confronted with what you were about to do in such an obvious way: it all gets a lot more real when there’s a big fucking cock in your face.

Not wanting to make him wait anymore, you leaned forward and took the tip into your mouth, coating it in your spit as you suckled gently… at first.

He hummed a little— you honestly barely heard it— and stiffened a bit more in your mouth. Soon enough, it was so big that you had to keep your jaw open wide to fit it, and soreness was already starting to set in.

When you shut your eyes, it was a little easier; you were a little more confident, and you tightened your hands into fists behind your back to stop them from shaking. Leaning forward more, you took him deeper until his belly bumped against your forehead. Why did that make your thighs clench together?

His fingers combed over your hair, not quite guiding your head yet but certainly encouraging you to go on. "Yeah, fuck, that's good— that's really fucking good, keep sucking, baby…" he mumbled, voice thick and sweet like syrup. The deeper you took him, the more talkative he got; and when you took him all the way to the base, with your nose buried in a patch of curly hair, he moaned louder than ever.

"Shit," he hissed, grabbing the back of your head when you tried to pull away. "N-no, stay down, need to feel that throat a little longer, fuuuuck…"

You fought harder to pull back, getting dizzy as your coughs and sputters did nothing to give you air. Only when tears ran down your cheeks and spots filled your vision did he let go, giving you a chance to break away and gasp for air.

He was chuckling lowly as you coughed, smiling down at you proudly even though you weren't much of a sight right now— face swollen and wet with tears, red eyes (even worse than before), on your knees in the leaves and dirt…

"Stand up," he ordered, and you gave him a confused look as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Huh?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Don't you wanna finish?"

He smiled wider. "That's cute— you were gonna swallow it, too, right? And you thought that would be enough?"

You started to feel particularly stupid as he yanked you up to your feet. There was a long, tense silence as he started touching you again— running his hands slowly over your waist, your neck, your hips…

He started to slowly push your shirt up, but his eyes stayed trained on your face; you must have looked, for once, as nervous as you felt.

He hummed a little as he got your shirt high enough and tugged your bra down; your nipples hardened right away from the chilly breeze, and he toyed with them for a second with his thumbs before groping your chest more confidently with his whole hands— god, they were big, and strong, just like the rest of him.

After unbuttoning your jeans for you, he turned you around quickly and pressed himself against your backside with a purr, slipping a hand down the front of your pants and into your panties. “Mm,” he emphasized, cupping you and holding you tightly; still cuffed, the position made your hands grab onto his thighs through his pants.

He groaned as his fingers slid between your lips, and you let out a quiet whimper of your own.

"Oh, fuck— look how wet you are, sweetie," he cooed beside your ear, starting to rub circles around your clit a bit too roughly. "You like sucking cock in the woods? Or is it the cuffs?"

You only whimpered a little as he held you tighter.

"Or," he continued, speaking even closer to your ear until his mustache tickled your skin, "is it whoring yourself for a man twice your age? Is that what gets you off, honey?"

He didn't wait too long for you to answer— he must've known you weren't going to— before he pulled his hand out of your pants and yanked the denim down. You felt cold and weird and stupid with your bare ass out in the woods; you swallowed down a lump in your throat when you heard Hop shoving his pants lower, too. "Do you have a condom?" you asked shakily.

"You think I bring condoms on patrol? What kind of cop do you think I am?"

My pants are around my thighs, Hop, I don't think you're exactly clean…

"No, baby, we don't need one anyways," he decided, rubbing his head around your flexing hole with a sigh. "God, it's so wet…"

That was his last warning, if you can call it that, before pushing inside; and you accidentally grabbed onto his shirt when your fingers made fists, the sting of pain making your toes curl inside your shoes, too. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t be too loud, though… you remembered, for a second, that Eddie would hear if you weren’t careful. That made guilt churn your stomach even more than the Chief’s hand coming down to spank your ass all of a sudden.

“Damn, s’tight,” he chuckled darkly, groaning as he picked up his pace and held your hips steady. “Sweet fuckin’ pussy… y’like it, sweetie, y’like being fucked?”

Swallowing, you nodded. “Y-yeah,” you panted softly.

“Louder, honey.”

“Yeah, I like it,” you replied, a little more confident but not exactly ready to shout it out, either. “Feels good…"

"Bet you wanna cream all over me, huh, baby?"

Well, that would certainly make this more enjoyable— but you didn't need to, really; the pain of the stretch had finally faded and honestly, you were surprised it happened so quickly. With how thick he was, you were prepared to struggle longer, but if anything your body was giving in, encouraging him, making your back arch deeper and your walls pulse whenever he filled you to the brim.

His hands reached around to cup your tits, and he moaned louder as he felt you up while he fucked you. When his fingers tweaked your nipples— not too hard, but still a startle— you tensed up inside; and he noticed. “Oh, they’re sensitive, hm? Sweet girl…”

Of course, he just did it repeatedly, and more aggressively, until your legs were shaking and you let out a pathetic whine. “Chief, c’mon…” you pleaded nervously.

“Chief? Don’t need to be so formal, honey,” he laughed, leaning in a little closer. “Just call me Jim, okay?”

You really didn’t wanna do that, and you were having a hard time getting much of anything out now anyways: he’d started fucking you harder, deeper, a lot faster… your head was spinning. At first you’d really just wanted to get this over with, but right now, you never wanted it to stop. It was so difficult to keep your thoughts straight, you almost told him that, before noticing what a stupid thing that would be to say—

“Fuck, are you close?” he taunted.

“Don’t stop!” you blurted out. “Please don’t stop, fuck…”

He chuckled proudly, and yep, it was just as stupid a thing to say as you thought it would be; he sounded way too cocky now, and even the way he moved his hips seemed to be more… gloating, than before, if that’s possible. “Little slut,” he spat, though the insult sounded just as much like a compliment.

“Fuck,” you whispered again.

“I get it, y’know— you’re young and you need a little rebellion,” he said, and in your current state it really didn’t make any sense. “But reefer’s not worth the trouble. Why don’t you just let me fuck you when you’re feeling naughty?”

Right now, that didn’t seem like too bad of an idea; you already got the sense this may not be the last time this happened, even if he didn’t catch you smoking pot again. That feeling was already swelling up inside you, and your throat was dry from breathing heavily— and nearly sore from moaning, even though you’d been trying to fight it. Your eyes kept rolling back in your head even when they were shut, which they usually were until he brushed your hair aside with his hand and told you to look back at him.

And damn, he was a sight: that look in his eyes was unforgettable, the strain on his face as he drove himself into you over and over. The curve of his cock stretched you in a way you’d never really felt before, his grip on you was so aggressive and his pace was overwhelming. He was right, it turns out, when he said that thing before about Eddie and how you needed a ‘real man’ instead. You protested to that term, but compared to guys your age, this was entirely different— and better. And supremely fucked up. And the best dirty deal you’d ever made.

“I-I’m close,” you finally admitted.

“I know,” he mumbled, “go ahead, baby— just come for me.”

It was the way he said it that shook you so much, unexpectedly gentle after so much gruff mocking; it still took you a few more minutes, but you ended up obeying his command pretty easily.

He felt it when you came, groaning through a smile and praising you in a low voice. You could even hear it, the sticky sound as your cunt soaked him, and he snarled as he looked down at it— he grabbed your ass and pulled it out of the way so he could watch his cock fill your hole. “God, that’s perfect,” he announced, “you’re so fucking cute.”

Not really the adjective I was expecting after I came on your dick, but I guess I’ll take it.

“Wanna make you do it again,” he admitted, making you swallow nervously, “but we don’t have much more time… and I’m so goddamn close, fuck, you’re just so tight, honey…”

You whimpered and bit your lip, your post-orgasm haze working overtime to keep your shame at bay— but the clarity was due any second now, and it was hard to ignore who this was when he kept moaning louder and louder, sighing your name, touching you and running his hand down your back and promising to fill you with his load—

Wait, he’s gonna do what?

"Pull out," you whimpered. "Fuck— pull out…"

He only held on tighter to your hips, driving into you deeper as his head fell back in a grunt.

"Hop, pull out!" you yelped, only for a thick, clammy hand to cover your mouth as he bent down behind you— his forehead rested on the back of your shoulder, each hot breath fanning over your skin.

"God, sorry, I'm sorry," he panted, "need this— fuck, so good…"

You struggled harder, but all your strength was useless compared to him holding you there, keeping you exactly how he wanted you.

"Ah, fuck— you don't need to fight it, baby, s'gonna be so good… your pussy's milking me, c'mon, it's what she wants— she wants to be filled up, I can tell. You want it, baby? You want me to come? Fuck I'm so close…"

He grunted a few more times before he suddenly stopped— his hips pressed forward until he couldn’t go possibly any deeper, then even just a little more after that; he held you tight as a tear ran down over his hand on your face. Relaxing with a heavy exhale, his grip loosened on you slightly but you were far too weak to fight it now, so you just stayed there: bent over, still crying slightly, with a panting and heavy man just behind you (and inside you) catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he said again, pulling out quickly and letting you go; you didn’t realize how weak your legs were until you had to hold onto the van to stay up, awkwardly lowering your bare, sore bottom onto the small lip of the back bumper so you wouldn’t just fall to the ground.

You were pretty out of it for a minute; the smell of cigarette smoke brought you back to reality, and you looked at Hopper, having a smoke as he looked out into the woods. He caught you staring, and raised an eyebrow. “Y’want one?” he offered, and you nodded.

Fishing the pack out of his pocket, he shook out a cigarette for you, holding it for you to lean forward and capture with your lips. After lighting it for you, he watched you take a long drag and sigh.

“I’ll take you out of the cuffs in a minute,” he promised, but you’d already kind of forgotten about them.

He did, though; help you out of them, that is, and you were able to get your clothes back in order on your own after that. You wondered if you should say something, or if he should. What was there to say? Thanks for the bribe? Nice cock? Pleasure doing business with you?

So, he didn’t say anything, and neither did you. Until just as he was starting to walk away, and you noticed his flashlight had fallen from his belt onto the ground.

“Wait,” you said, leaning down to grab it, and when you stood up to hand it back to him, you saw something strange in his expression. You wondered, for a second, if he’d been hoping for more when you said that. “You dropped this.”

He took the flashlight and nodded at you. “Thanks,” he said, and you took the last drag of your lended cigarette as you nodded; watching him leave, you dropped the butt to the ground and snuffed it out with your shoe.

For some reason, you waited a little longer after he left to get back in the van’s passenger side. Eddie didn’t look at you when you got in, and you didn’t say anything; he just started the van silently and began the drive back to the trailer park. You were halfway there when you decided you should let him know, “you’re not going to jail.”

“I know,” he replied.

#when i tell you #this is one of my most fav fics on this website #jim hopper #my fav #t dub con #t non con #t innocence #t age gap #t oral #t creampie #t coercion

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myfictionaldreams · 5 days

Note

Picture this: y/n comes home very drunk from a night out with her girlfriends and is trying to jump his bones the whole time while Joe is taking off her make up, giving her water, and changing her into comfy pajamas 🥰

just in time for halloween, i themed this request for all of my spooky babes (a little, it's whatever) enjoy! Wordcount: 2K

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Soft Hands

“Fuck. So, none of them fit?” you said, speech slurred slightly, giving your set of keys another double take. You tried to focus your eyes extra hard on them properly, again. Then you gave it another go, holding a key you knew wasn’t meant for this lock, but, maybe it was, you know? Couldn’t hurt to at least give it a little try.

Joe was laid out on the sofa, TV displaying a random Halloween film that was on with its volume turned low, his attention mostly on the phone in his hands.

He’d heard you from the moment the taxi doors had opened, filling your quiet street with loud girly screeches that shouted drunken heartfelt goodbyes and laughed when you had tried to slam the door shut, but missed the door entirely with your hands. You’d already committed your body weight into it and practically launched yourself onto the pavement. One of your friends had to then also climb out to make sure you were okay and had to drag you away from the car by your arms, so they’d be able to drive off without catching any of your limbs under the tires.

You were all giggles and swirly vision, which was ultimately why you’d tried to open your front door with the wrong keys.

After finally locating the right key, missing the lock with it about six times, suddenly, it fit, and you stumbled into your flat.

Joe couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself as he’d listened to you muttering swearwords under your breath outside on the doormat, eyes still glued to his phone.

He hadn’t gotten up to help but had instead been curious how long it was going to take you, gaging how drunk you were before he’d even laid eyes on you.

“Hands up, it’s the– it’s the police,” you spoke into your flat after slamming the door shut behind you and you heard Joe snicker from the sofa.

“Eddie, you’re a wanted fu– fugitive, give yourself–” you hiccuped as you slowly took careful steps into the living room, trying your very best to remain steadily on your feet.

“Give yourself up to the law,” it was difficult to remain stood up with your arms unable to help you balance yourself as you held out a plastic toy gun that scanned the room before it landed with its barrel pointed at Joe.

“Hopper...” Joe said from his spot on the sofa in an American accent as if he was stood face to face with his arch enemy.

Then he paused for just a second before laughing loudly and exclaiming, “Your full bum is out!”

It took you a second too long to pan your eyes down, noticing how your skirt had fully run up over your cheeks, exposing your underwear through your sheer tights.

You huffed a laugh at the look of it.

“Oh,” was all you could say before sloppily trying to straighten your outfit, but it was to no avail. You wanted to get out of it, anyway.

“Did you have fun?” Joe put his phone down and grinned at your messy hair, the aviator sunglasses all tangled up on top of your head, and Joe thought back to how just hours earlier you’d been faffing at it for ages with your straightener.

It had been a while since Joe’d seen you like this, a full mess of a girl.

You’d been stupidly excited for Halloween this year, but your boyfriend hadn’t been. For obvious reasons. Not in the mood to pose for a million photos with people dressed like Eddie Munson, he’d decided to just stay in for the night and maybe hand over some sweets if kids were to ring your doorbell.

You’d been all pouty and sulky about it – “Come on, dress up as Eddie yourself, no one will assume it’s actually you! – and even tried convincing him to come along by dressing up as a stupidly slutty sheriff, overdoing it completely.

Like you were meant to, on Halloween.

When your friends had picked you up earlier that evening, you'd pointed at your boyfriend and confidently said, "Don't wait up," before immediately regretting it, laughing, and saying, "No please wait up, I'm going to get so drunk.”

You'd been right.

When you’d stopped sending Joe pictures of you with random people dressed as Stranger Things characters and instead, had started trying to Facetime him, he knew it was only because you were too far gone to text coherently.

“I got hit on tonight,” you replied to Joe’s question giddily, almost erratic, like you’d revealed a very exciting secret and stalked your way towards him.

“Did you?” Joe chuckled, still in the same relaxed position on the sofa, legs outstretched along the seats, moving them apart slightly as you got closer, bracing for impact.

“I did,” you smiled until your eyes went squinty, so pleased with yourself for it.

“Everyone loved sexy Jim Hopper,” you let yourself fall onto Joe.

“Sexy Jim Hopper got a lot of free drinks tonight,” you sighed heavily, the alcohol thick on your breath, and you pressed your face into Joe’s chest. You could just go to sleep right there.

“Mmh, well,” Joe mused as he gave you a squeeze. “Sexy Jim Hopper smells like it too, come on,” Joe patted you on the bum, urging you to get up off of him as he tried to sit up himself.

You didn’t do anything to help him, eyes already closed, making Joe grunt loudly as he fought against the bodyweight of the two of you. He continued to push you back up onto your feet before guiding you to the bathroom by your shoulders.

Joe ended up having to curl his arm around you to open the bathroom door, because when you reached it, you just stood in front of it and held your toy gun in your hands, pressed up to the side of your face.

When the door swung open, you stretched your arms out and as you did, the toy slipped from your hands and loudly clanged as it landed in the tub.

“Jesus Chr– how many times have you done that tonight?” Joe ducked down and flinched in reaction to the sudden loud noises. You just gave him a dumb smile, remembering the amount of times you’d scurried across the length of the several bars and pubs you’d visited to retrieve your prop.

“Guns can be a weapon in more ways than the obvious one,” you tapped a finger to your temple as if you were feeding Joe a crumb of great wisdom. If you’d said it any slower, you’d have been talking backwards.

Joe pulled down the lid to the toilet seat and made you sit on it. He then reached for your toothbrush, dotted on a bit of toothpaste, and turned back to see you slumped back, head hanging totally unsupported, and your eyes closed.

“Baby, come on,” Joe said, not getting a reaction out of you. He looked at you a second, reached a hand over, hesitated for a moment, and then went for it anyway.

Hunching over you, he grabbed your cheeks in his hand and squeezed his fingers together until your mouth opened. He was ready to brush your teeth for you like you were a toddler. You whined loudly, frowned deeply, and smacked his hand away before he could, though.

It resulted in your toothbrush falling from Joe’s hand and landing face down onto the tiles.

“What are you–” Joe started, then sighed, frustration building.

“Bed,” you moaned, reaching out to use Joe for leverage as you wanted to get back up on your feet.

“No, no. I remember you specifically telling me that I wasn’t allowed to let you fall asleep in your make-up,” Joe pushed you back down before reaching for your toothbrush and tossing it into the sink.

As his face moved closely in front of you, you suddenly grabbed hold of it with both hands, your grip entirely too strong for it to be cute or endearing. You squished his cheeks together, leaving his mouth a funny shape that you pressed a few rough pecks onto.

“Look at this man,” you said, and let your frown grow deeper as your grip became stronger.

You wanted to crush him like you’d want to squeeze cute kittens, entirely unable to handle the overwhelming feeling of adoration you felt.

“So handsome.”

Joe wrapped your hands into his own softly and then slowly pried them off him before pressing a kiss onto your lips. Drunk you had a weird way of showing affection, but Joe was kind of into it and he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged on his cheeks.

“I’ve been saying it all night,” you said, head now falling back against the wall behind you as you watched Joe reach for your make-up wipes.

“No thanks, I’ve got a handsome boyfriend. Thanks for the drink, I’ve got a handsome boyfriend. Shame my boyfriend’s not here, he’s very handsome.”

“Eyes closed,” Joe said, now holding a still folded wipe in his palm and when you closed your eyes, he swiped it across your cheeks with an incredibly careful touch.

“No,” you corrected him and pressed his hand harshly into your face. “More pressure, soft hands,” Joe huffed a laugh at the given nickname.

Joe obliged, but when it came to your eyes, he didn’t want to hurt you. With soft downstrokes over your lashes, Joe wasn’t getting rid of any mascara or any eyeliner.

"Your hands, they're too soft!" you whined in annoyance before taking over, rubbing harshly at your eyes over the wet fabric.

“Careful!” Joe directed. “We’re removing the make-up, not your actual eyes,” and you giggled until it made you go floppy.

It took entirely too long, and way too much effort to eventually untangle the sunglasses from your hair, get you out of your outfit and miraculously to also brush your teeth.

When Joe finally announced that he was going to take you to bed, you’d wiggled two tired eyebrows at him suggestively.

“Oh yea? What’s my handsome boyfriend going to do to me?” you tried your best to be seductive, failing miserably in your drunken haze, barely able to carry yourself into your bedroom.

“Your tired boyfriend is going to make sure you don’t get any sick on the sheets or choke on your vomit,” he said, pushing you into your bedroom by the shoulders like he’d gotten you over into the bathroom earlier too.

“No, you’re so boring, I didn’t dress like that all night for you to just go to sleep,” you said, hands reaching behind you to grab at his crotch. Joe only narrowly managed to avoid them.

The second you saw the bed, though, you were gone. Plummeting into the pillows, you didn’t even bother getting under the covers properly.

So, Joe helped, slinging your legs into the bed, pulling the covers over you, placing a bucket down next to you alongside a tall glass of water on your bedside table with a painkiller carefully placed next to it for when you’d wake up the next morning.

When he got into bed next to you, Joe was surprised when you moved over closer to him as he got comfortable.

“Come here,” you said with your eyes closed, and Joe wasn’t sure if you were still awake, or talking in your sleep.

“Get it up here near my face, I’ll suck you off,” and Joe paused to look at you, a laugh stuck in his throat, ready to slip out at a moment’s notice, but then he swallowed it when he saw that you’d truly fallen asleep now.

“Sleep tight,” Joe pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, wrapping an arm around your waist, fingers curling 'round the side of it and nuzzling into you before letting himself drift off to sleep as well.

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(yea i added that pic after the portland '24 con bc of what he said, sue me)

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The Taglisted: @ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @nobody-000 @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @thefemininemystiquee @dirtyeddietini - add yourself

#my favourite boy #joseph quinn

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myfictionaldreams · 6 days

Text

flinch

summary: you flinch during a fight with eddie

pairing: eddie x female!reader

cw: angst w a fluffy ending, thoughts of abuse

word count: 1.5k words

a/n: wrote this v quickly so it’s not really proofread or anything. i could’ve done it better but i’ve been soo busy :/ might rewrite later

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

you were in eddie's trailer, wayne had just left for work 10 minutes ago, and already you were in some silly little fight with eddie which you didn't expect to escalate how it did

"it's just sometimes guitar players think they're better than everyone else" you stated and eddie rolled his eyes, taking it as a personal jab to his skills

"okay but they almost make the band" he responded from the kitchen, hearing the clank of dishes as the water ran from the faucet

"okay but most of the time they are just assholes who just care about the sex, drugs, and rock n roll life style" you shrugged

"so you think i'm an asshole?" he responded back with a sharp tone and you shook your head

"no i'm talking about the people like mick mars who are so doped up and sleep with hundreds of women and just act like a douchebag" you said with a matter of fact tone

"well it kinda sounds like you're implying that i'm going to turn out like them" he snapped, turning off the water and drying his hands

"no! god no, i'm not saying that! i'm saying once in the spotlight, most people turn into assholes like that" you said, trying your best to stay calm

"so once my band makes it big, you're what- just gonna leave since you think it'll happen to me?" he questioned, turning the corner to meet you in the living room

"of course not! why would you say something like that?" you asked with a louder tone

"well it sounds like that's what you're expecting!" he said, starting to shout

"im not expecting it to happen!" you said, your voice growing to match his

"yeah well i'm pretty sure those 'friends' of yours think it will, they already think i'm in a satanic cult about to sacrifice you" he told you with a sarcastic growl, grabbing some extra dishes he found on the small table to put in the sink

"what the fuck is that about" you asked confused, remembering the party in which you two had met up with a couple of your girl friends but failed to recall them talking about that certain subject

"yeah you didn't hear what they said? we were at that party at steve's house the other night, and they started talking about how i'm some trailer trash wannabe rockstar" he angrily said, flipping on the water to keep working on the leftover dishes from the previous night

"okay first off, i never heard them say anything like that! second, why were you even hanging out with my friends if i wasn't there?" you rebutted, questioning him

"because i was trying to be a caring boyfriend and find you since robin said you looked a little too drunk and i didn't want you to hurt yourself" he snapped back

the volume of the argument kept escalating, which brought knots to your stomach. you hadn't really had fights with eddie and now that you're in one, you badly wanted to go back to how it was

"well i'm sorry i was trying to enjoy myself at the party but also i have never heard them say anything like that before in my life" you told him, starting to pace around, not knowing what else to do

"oh great and now you're defending them, what- do you agree with them?" he asked as you started to pick up empty cans and put them in the bin

"i do not agree with anything they said! but i've known those girls for a good few years now and i know they wouldn't say that about anyone" you tried and he laughed, putting his head down

"you are unbelievable!" he screamed and that's when you didn't care if you started yelling, the anger bubbling up inside you

"oh really so you want to talk about what friends have said about us? okay, well remember that time we were at the hideout and your friend hank said that he liked your other girlfriend before me better and was annoyed that you're whipped for some girl who was less pretty than she was!" you screamed, tears pricking in your eyes

you remembered that moment all too well when hank mentioned how much prettier eddie's ex girlfriend was, and your heart sank but you laughed it off, coming up with some smart comeback to brush off the pieces of your shattered confidence

"that was a joke! you even laughed!" eddie rebutted, slamming a cabinet door shut. you flinched at the loudness of it but he didn't see with his back turned to you

"i only laughed because i was uncomfortable! i didn't know what else to do!" you said, wiping away a tear that fell down your cheek

eddie angrily stomped out of the kitchen to his room and you followed, blinking away tears

"and i also don't exactly remember you defending me and telling him off!" you screamed and he turned to look at you

"because i didn't know you were uncomfortable!" he screamed back, looking around his desk for something

"well you should know from common sense that anyone hearing that would not find it amusing!" your anger was consuming you as you watched eddie throw a shirt from his desk to his bed

"well i guess i'm just not a very good boyfriend then!" he said throwing his arms up in the air

you stepped back, bringing your arms up in a defensive stance as your head turned, somehow expecting there to be an impact from his hand

eddie realized what happened as he stared at you with wide eyed and you slowly moved your head to look at him with your arms still up

you moved your arms down as eddie just stood there in shock, and you moved to wipe a couple more tears of frustration from your face

"y/n... did you think i was going to hit you?" he asked softly, a huge change in tone from what you previously were hearing, his stance deflating

you gulped put a small "no" not wanting him to think that you'd think he'd do such a thing. you knew he would never, but it was a natural reaction that you instantly regretted

"baby i..." he trailed off, taking a small step forward towards you. you didn't move back which he took as a good sign

"you know i would never ever do that to you, right?" he asked, taking another small step forward and putting a hand on your arm which was intertwined with your other arm, folded across your chest

"i know..." you muttered out, moving your head to look away from him, keeping your arms crossed

"can i please hold you?" he asked gently and you nodded, slowly moving your body into his open arms as he wrapped them around you, engulfing you into a giant bear hug

a few more tears fell down as he held you close to his body, and you leaned your head into his chest

"i'm so so sorry for yelling and getting mad, and i'm sorry i didn't defend you when hank said that bullshit, i love you so so so much" he spoke softly, his hand coming up and gently placing it on the back of your head

“and i want you to know that i promise you i would never hit you or do anything of the sort, i’m so sorry you thought that” he said with a shaky voice

"i'm sorry too," you started to apologize, feeling guilt run through your veins from not defending him earlier, and for reacting the way you did

"i didn't realize they said those things, and i know for a fact you aren't going to end up like mick mars or nikki sixx or any of those drug abusing rockstars, well maybe only with the level of rock n roll fame part, not the drugs" you joked with a sniffle

"and what about the sex?" he said with a chuckle, and you moved your body to face him, wrapping his arms around his waist and you moved your eyebrows up in a surprising way, pushing your head back in slight confusion

"you know, sex, drugs, rock n roll- they're a package deal... and obviously there's gonna be no drugs- well okay maybe weed, then a huge amount of rock n roll fame... what about the sex?" he joked making you smile with a small giggle

"well maybe, only if you'll still love and want me when you're big and famous" you told him with a small laugh, a smile growing on his face

"oh baby i will always love you and want you for the rest of my days" he said sweetly before leaning in and giving you a small kiss

when he pulled away he looked into your eyes, a hand moving to the back of your neck

"then show me how much you mean it," you said with a small smirk as he pulled you in for another kiss

he leaned in, kissing you passionately, his tongue fighting with yours as you moved you hands to slightly scratch down his back

"i- love- you" he said between breaths as he continued to kiss you, and you knew he really meant it

fin.

#eddie munson #tw

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myfictionaldreams · 7 days

Text

First Date

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, heavy petting, groping, slight hand job, dry humping

You both try to go slow, it's your first date after all. But it’s not as easy as it sounds when his hands are wandering and your lips are on his neck. Eddie has the top of your dress pulled down (he’d groaned dramatically when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra) and his body leans over yours, your thighs on either side of his hips and your back on the couch.

You knew you weren’t going all the way, but you’d told him he could take his jeans off. It was a selfish ask. It made it so that you could feel him better when you rubbed against him.

You suck lightly on his earlobe and Eddie gasps.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathily, more tease than you would have guessed yourself capable of. He chuckles but it is half pant.

"Yeah."

You kiss his earlobe again, grazing your teeth lightly over the shell.

"I need to fuck you," he mutters, though he pulls back and away from your mouth. Eddie looks down at you with hazy. "But we're not fucking tonight, so I need a second to get my shit together."

While he takes a breath, he sits back on his heels, your legs still around his hips. He rests his hands heavy on your thighs and looks down at you in your amused, debauched state. It's absolutely not helping him calm down. Neither is the fact that he can't stop his hands from sliding up and squeezing over your exposed breasts.

"Fuck," Eddie mutters as he watches the supple flesh give and spill around his large fingers. His audible frustration makes you let out a giggle, and you notice that his cock twitches in his boxers at the sound. The sight has you ready to end this break, so you push him so that he's sitting against the back of the couch, clambering up to straddle him.

"You're hot," you mumble before kissing your way from his jaw to his lips. Your hand slides down his chest to rest on his abdomen. He cants his hips upward and the tip of his clothed cock taps your hand, obviously encouraging you to grasp it through the fabric. So of course you do.

"Shit, no you're hot."

You bite your lip to keep from arguing with him. He's calling you hot and if you're honest with yourself, you've never felt hotter than you do right now with his hands all over you, so you decide to go with it. Eddie hangs his head so he can watch you jerk him slowly through his boxers. It's hot and hard in your palm and you're sure to rub your thumb over the mushroom head, pleased to feel a little bit of sticky precum bleed through the cloth.

This is absolutely not what you'd assumed would happen when you agreed to spontaneously go on this first date earlier today. You'd guessed you would, at best, enjoy some good conversation and company. You hadn't anticipated agreeing to go back to his place after just a few drinks, but holy fuck are you glad that's the direction the night took.

It's not long before Eddie's hand drops over the back of yours, stopping your motion over his member.

"Baby...you're killing me. We might need to stop," he grunts. Contrary to his words, his hand continues to guide yours up and down his cock, making you laugh. Eddie's eyes flash up to yours in amusement.

"What's so funny?" he asks. You shake your head but keep laughing, so Eddie takes the opportunity to push you onto your back again. His hand cups between your legs, fingers pressing over where your clit should be. You lift your hips to seek out more friction, though you know it's a useless pursuit with how snug and thick your stockings are.

"Right there?" Eddie asks, pressing more pointedly. Your roll your hips, impatient.

"Yeah...under layers," you joke. His hand worms into the tight control panel waistband of your stockings so he can play with the top of your panties.

"You know," he says casually, as if his hand isn't between your legs making you melt. "I could go down on you."

You blink up at him.

"Huh?"

"I could go down on you," Eddie repeats, leaning down over you to kiss your neck. "If you want."

When you don't reply, Eddie pulls back to gauge your reaction. It spurs you to speak up.

"Nobody's ever done that before," you say quietly. Eddie continues to swirl his finger over the top of your panties, but the movement is gentle.

"Really?" he asks, voice colored with disbelief. You shrug and try not to show that you're embarrassed by the inexperience you're projecting. Eddie's having none of it. "I'd go down on you, baby."

You surge up then at his words and pull him into another deep kiss. It's all tongue and teeth with your hands in his hair, tugging hard. Eddie's hand pulls out of the waistband of your stockings so he can grip and grab at you wildly in response.

You do it so that it can distract him from the offer he was making. Because there's nothing you wanted more than to let him rip your stockings off your body and put that talented tongue to use at your apex. But you had promised yourself that - even if you were going to hook up pretty intensely - you weren't going to have sex on this first date.

Eddie finally pulls back to let you breathe, which you do with a gasp, and he rests his sweaty forehead to yours.

"Probably better not. If I go down on you...I'm pretty sure we'll end up fucking."

He says it with a smug grin on his face. Pure confidence that makes you laugh and want to contradict him, but you absolutely know the man is correct.

"Yeah, I guess that's right."

Eddie sits back up to give you room to do the same. You both sit facing the long dark television to catch your breath. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Eddie has his hand on his still hard dick, stroking softly. He catches you looking and shoots you a grin.

"Sorry, I'm so fucking tuned on." He's saying sorry but his thighs are manspread performatively and it's very clear he likes you watching him. Just as much as he likes watching your breasts bounce as you laugh and lean forward to kiss the tattoo on his pec. You rest your head against his shoulder so you can watch him touch himself for another few minutes before you sigh.

"I think I have to leave before I end up doing what I really want to do."

Eddie groans and stills his hand, moving it up instead to cradle your jaw, turning you towards him for one more lingering kiss.

"Let me call you a cab," he says against your lips and you nod.

While you run to the bathroom to adjust your dress and make sure it doesn't look like you'd just dry humped Eddie Munson for an hour, the man in question puts his jeans back on. You walk out to find him adjust his still hard cock in the confines of the garment, wincing.

"Alright there, champ?" you ask him with a grin. The cab honks its arrival out front.

"I will be jerking off the minute you leave, just know," he says matter-of-factly as he leads you out the door. "I don't know if girls need to do that, but I'm pretty much gonna die if I can't cum after all that."

He says it good-naturedly and for once in all of your dating life, you don't feel pressured or shamed. Just extremely flattered to have this kind of effect on him.

At the bottom of his front step you turn and place a hand on the side of his neck and pull him down closer to you.

"I don't need to make myself cum. But I'm definitely going to," you whisper into his ear before running off to the cab, sparing him one cheeky look over your shoulder so you can bask in his dumbfounded expression.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know if you did!

#eddie munson #t groping #t handjob #t dry humping

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myfictionaldreams · 8 days

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I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a… total butthead.

#eddie munson #stranger things #dustin henderson

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myfictionaldreams · 9 days

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18+ Dark winter soldier NON CON SMUT, forced breeding (for both reader and Bucky?), a lil fucked up for both because Bucky is still brainwashed by hydra, he’s actually still a poor sweet bb on the inside. angst

“Don’t run from me bunny” His voice was muffled by his mask, his Russian accent carrying through the dark woods you ran through, not another soul in sight. You cried out feeling his hand grab your hair, tugging it back, turning you around to face him. Your back hit the rough bark of a tree, whimpering when he pulled your hair harder, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“P-please” You squeezed your thighs together when he trailed his hand down your body to the hem of your skirt, bunching it up around your waist, pulling your panties off.

Keep reading

#bucky #winter solider #t non con #t breeding

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myfictionaldreams · 10 days

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sour girl

mean!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: a project with the boy who makes your life a living hell turns into something completely unexpected. (5.2k)

warnings: smut (thigh riding, choking, impact play), enemies to lovers, girly!reader, mean,pervy!eddie. mdni.

You swear you must be living a nightmare when your Creative Writing teacher points at you and then at Eddie Munson and says “the two of you are going to be working together for this project” in that ear-piercing, glass-shattering voice that had you wincing everytime she talks too loud or gets too close.

You think someone who really, truly hates every part of your being must have cursed you with this painfully awful fate the second the gut-wrenching words came out of her sticky, red, over-lined mouth.

You would have been completely fine, satisfied even, with any other person in your class. But the universe was definitely not on your side today and decided to assign you a punishment made for awful people like serial killers or dentists, not you!

The chances of the two of you being paired together weren’t really that small considering the class only consists of ten students, and you have already worked on other assignments with the majority of them. So, you know directing your anger towards your teacher, the universe, and Eddie is irrational. But, still you are pissed the hell off and just want your teacher to laugh and to say it was a joke and assign you someone else.

To make matters worse, you were actually very excited about this assignment, looking forward to writing your own 10-minute play to add to your portfolio. But having Eddie as your partner has deemed the task impossible.

Clearly, you and Eddie have never been friendly, rather the opposite, and it’s all thanks to his sadistic nature. You never showed him anything but kindness when you first met in class. That was until he started acting very mean towards you for no apparent reason.

With how often he torments you, you suspect he must take pleasure in making you suffer, getting off on constantly flipping up your skirt, tugging harshly on your hair, teasing your girly style, and stealing all your pretty accessories, like hair ribbons and bracelets, right off of you.

Unfortunately for you, if he’s a sadist, you’re a masochist.

Although you can go on and on about how much you despise the man, how much your blood boils with rage everytime he does something uncalled for, how much you want to scream at him for being rude, there’s a tiny itty bitty little portion of your brain that is disgustingly infatuated with every part of him. That piece of you feeds off of his constant attention and absolutely revels in his meanness, despite him being an absolute asshole to you at all times.

As if your infatuation with him couldn’t get any worse, you’re extremely unfortunate that he’s your type incarnate: long dark hair, pretty doe eyes, grungy style, kind of nerdy, can pull off a leather jacket, and a little mean. Though, a “little mean” might be an understatement.

It’s ridiculous, really, how a boy who makes your life a living hell could still fluster you with every touch and tease. It’s even more ridiculous that you think about him late at night when you’ve got a hand between your thighs.

You have to constantly remind yourself that you hate him and he hates you; otherwise, you would probably fall in love with him. There’s something about him, other than his pretty face and nice body, that just makes you swoon. You wonder if that tiny voice in your head was the one who manifested this torture on you but don’t let the thought linger enough for you to feel pissed at yourself too.

You wince as your mind tries to consider whether working with Eddie Munson is actually a good thing, despite your enraged initial reaction.

It’s awfully confusing to live with two opposing voices in your head. It’s as if one voice is an angel while the other is the devil, both sitting on either shoulder, bickering about Eddie Munson and whether you should kill him or kiss him. Except you don’t know which voice is the angel and which is the devil as both sides of the argument are equally as bad to you. It’s not like you want to hate him, but you definitely don’t want to like him either.

When you approach him after your teacher dismisses the class, he rudely interrupts your kind greeting with a “I’m only free tonight. Your place or mine?”

He scoffs and is clearly annoyed when you aren’t prepared to answer his abrupt question right away. He doesn’t even bother to spare a glance at you throughout this exchange, so enthralled with doodling stupid skulls and ugly bats on his beat up notebook. You practically had to talk to his frizzy hair rather than his face.

You respond in a low mutter that your place is better ‘cause your brother is probably gonna be gone all night to sleep at his girlfriend’s place and your parents are out of town but you’re busy until 8pm so it has to be after.

You don’t even realize you were rambling until he finally looks up at you with a bored expression and reaches over to tug on the elastics holding up the pigtail braids in your hair.

After that, he nods and leaves without another word, both of your pink elastics wrapped tight around his pale wrist, despite you trailing after him to try to get them back.

You spent the whole day in preparation, both mentally and physically. You think about everything he might make fun of in your room while shaving your legs, what he might steal from you this time while doing your makeup, and if he’s feeling generous enough to give back the hair ties he stole today while you put on a low-cut shirt.

Once he gets to your house, you both get straight to it and decide to settle on a plot to be able to start writing. “How about a romance between a bodyguard and a princess?” His laughter is so loud, it nearly shakes your bed.

“Absolutely not. How about a hero having to travel to the underworld to kill a dragon but it turns out that the dragon ends up being the hero of the story and the other guy is a villain?”

“That is way too long and confusing for a 10 minute play. Plus, a play is meant to be performed on stage. How are you going to get a dragon on stage, Eddie?” It’s your turn to reject his idea.

You go back and forth for what feels like hours. He keeps making fun of all your romance ideas while adding in his own ridiculous fantasy, Dungeons and Dragons-sounding ones.

At one point, you could tell nothing was going to get resolved unless you didn’t appease him. So with heaviness in your heart and a disappointed sigh, you did just that: letting him win and settling for plotlines that would be too incoherent and messy to any other person but Eddie.

Once you finally get to a reluctant agreement on an unsatisfying, half finished plot that incorporates both romance and fantasy, you settle down on your bed with your laptop on your thighs.

You finally start writing the opening lines when you notice Eddie wandering off to look through the room, pulling drawers open and touching all the knickknacks you’ve collected over the years. Apparently, he’s decided satisfying his annoying curiosity by looking around your room was a better idea than helping you out with your joint project.

While staring him down enough to hopefully get him to back off and get back to work, you notice how silly he looks standing in your room. His roughed up converse, old black jeans, fraying band tee, and the silver chain on his neck stick out from your feminine room that is full of pink and white decor and smells like strawberries. The only thing on him that blends in are your pink hair ties around his wrist. It almost makes you laugh, but then you remember the little work he’s done and you’re serious again.

You think he’ll get bored at one point and get back to work. But ten minutes later, his laptop has been sitting untouched, the screen shut off and collecting dust in the middle of your desk while he makes fun of the things laying around. It is very much driving you insane.

“Really, a stuffed animal? Aren’t you a little too old for this thing? It’s pathetic.”

He picks up your vanilla-scented bunny plush by the ear, letting it dangle before tossing it to the side when you barely spare a glance at him. You think ignoring him will make him get bored quicker, but it seems to only make him more determined to get a reaction out of you.

He pulls open another drawer and takes out a few condoms a friend gave you when you thought you might get lucky at a house party. You didn’t. But you kept them anyway.

“What do you need these for, hm? Let’s be honest here, no one’s fucking you, sweetheart. I can tell ‘cause you’re so uptight all the time. You just need a good fucking to get that out of your system.”

You tried to ignore it, you really did, but for the second time tonight, he won. Something about him being right about your sexual dry spell made you absolutely lose it.

“Fuck you, Eddie-“

“You wish,”

You ignore his teenage boy-ish comment even though it made your heart drop in rejection. “Go write your stupid play so you can leave me the fuck alone!”

“Wait, I’ll do it in a minute just- fucking calm down. Clearly, I hit a nerve with that,” he mutters. You can almost hear the eyeroll that goes along with his frustrated sigh. You take a deep breath to calm your boiling blood before trying your next strategy to get him to write the rest of the play.

“Eddie come on, you said you’re only free tonight. I just need you to write the ending, and then you can go home. I already did most of it. Please, Eds.”

You feel pathetic to be resorting to such desperate pleading. But you know he likes it when you beg as he often makes you beg him to give back your dainty rings, pink lip gloss, or whatever else he felt like stealing that day.

“Okay, let’s make a deal,” he gently pushes your laptop off of you and sets it to the side. At first, you think he may be surrendering and you won the war once and for all despite his victorious battles. That is until you remember a deal with Eddie is never a good one. He stands between your legs from where you sit at the edge of your bed. The closeness makes your breath shallow and your hands feel clammy. He stares at you with that stupidly mischievous smile on his stupidly pretty face.

“For every line I write, you have to give me a kiss.”

You freeze the second the words leave his plump, pink lips. Your heart feels like the only functioning organ in your body right now, beating so loud you think Eddie can hear it despite the small distance between the two of you. It only pounds harder in your ears when he steps almost impossibly closer, his intruding legs making the fabric of your skirt ride further up your thighs.

“Don’t act so shy now, sweetheart,” one of his rough, tattooed hands comes up to rest on your jaw, juxtaposing the softness of your skin.

“I saw those sexy little polaroids you left out on your nightstand. The one of you sticking your pretty tongue out and the other of your pretty tits, that’s my girl in those pictures, yeah?”

My girl. My girl. My girl. His words repeat in your brain like a mantra, a prayer that someday you will actually be his girl despite all the dirty things he’s done to you.

He takes your silence as a “yes” and as an opportunity to continue with his teasing. “You’re a smart girl, you would’ve remembered to put them back. Did you leave them there on purpose ‘cause you knew I was coming or are you just really that dumb?”

Shit, you think. He caught you.

Tears prickle in your eyes out of embarrassment and something else that makes your stomach twist into painful knots. It’s way too hard to look him in the eye, so you focus on the loose thread of your skirt instead.

“I- Shut up, Eddie,” you try to say, but your throat gives out and you end up whispering the words.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t let you sulk for long, pushing a finger against your chin to look back into his eyes. His thumb trails over your mouth, tracing your bottom lip that’s been set into a small pout since he first started talking about kissing you. As if weighed down by an anchor, your heavy tongue has sunk to the bottom of your mouth, completely incapable of letting out any words.

“Are those pictures just for me, baby?” He tuts while dragging down your bottom lip. “C’mon, answer me,” he urges while his fingers tap against your lips a little harder before dropping back to your jaw. All you can manage is a tiny nod, head too busy spinning because you’re embarrassed and so close to him and miss the feeling of his thumb against your lips.

“There she is, my pathetic girl, so thirsty for attention. I like the one of your panties. How’d you know I like looking up your skirt, hm?” His question is a sarcastic nod to all the times he’s flipped your skirt up in the halls. Just thinking about the mix of humiliation and pleasure you get from him exposing you makes your face heat up with warmth while your mouth slips out a desperate whimper. You hope he doesn’t notice the red-hot warmth on your cheeks.

“I wanna make a new deal, okay?”

“Oh,” you breathe out through your heavy pants, hoping your hum didn’t sound too disappointed. Your brain is finally coming back to you, finally processing that this is really happening, and Eddie Munson is really giving you the attention you’ve been craving since you met him. The anchor on your tongue slowly comes back up to the surface, but your body still feels weak.

He tilts your head back and presses his lips to move down your neck while his nose tickles at the sensitive skin.

“We’re gonna start with a simple kiss cause I'm dying to taste those pretty lips,” He nibbles at you until he feels you nod from above him. He presses open-mouth kisses on to your flushed skin between his words.

“Then, I’m gonna finish -kiss- writing my part -kiss- while you ride my thigh -kiss. You don’t get to -kiss- cum -kiss- until I’m done. Okay?”

You feel like you’re floating, so pleasurably dizzy it’s turned your head to mush. It’s hard to keep yourself upright, eyes rolling back, body nearly giving out. You try to remember why you hate Eddie so you could give yourself a reason to push him off.

Unfortunately, the part of you that likes Eddie has completely taken over, not even a sliver of hate for the boy left in your brain. You only remember you have to respond when he bites the skin of your neck much harder than the tiny nibbles he’d been placing on so gently before.

“Yeah- yes, please,” you plead, pushing yourself up on shaky wrists to reach him. And then he’s moving forward, smashing his lips to yours, caging you in with strong hands on either side of your face. The butterflies in your stomach turn violent, pulsing and pulsing until you feel like you’re exploding in pleasure. He tastes of cigarettes and something sweet you can’t quite place. You pass whimpers on to Eddie’s lips like tiny secrets you want him to keep, trusting him with all your pretty sounds. He’s pulling away far too soon for your liking, but his hands drifting up your skirt brings a new kind of pleasure and excitement.

“Look at you, you’re already feeling better. I like you a lot more like this,” he mutters.

“I don’t want you to like me-“ You try, you seriously try so hard, to think of a mean comeback like the ones you usually bite back with. But all you can come up with after that sensual kiss is a pathetic lie, and both of you can see through it.

“Really, that’s all you got? That’s okay. You’ll be fucked speechless by the time I’m done with you.”

Your breath hitches when his middle fingers brush against the hem of your panties. “Need to take these off you, sweetheart.” You don’t really process his words, just eagerly nod until he’s kneeling in front of you, hooking his fingers over the waistband, and pulling. You lift up your hips to help him get them off. You’re not sure why you pull at your skirt to keep him from glancing at the sticky mess between your thighs, and you’re also not sure why Eddie lets out an amused huff when you do.

He pulls the fabric down slowly, stopping to press a kiss to your knee when he slides it off your clothed feet. He scoffs and tugs at the lace of the white frilly socks you’re wearing, ‘cause it’s so you. He doesn’t dwell on it too much, though, instead bringing his attention to the lacy ivory thong in his hands. A jolt of arousal shoots through you as you watch him bring it up to his nose to sniff at the fabric.

His pupils are blown with lust when he opens his eyes again, so enlarged there’s only a sliver of brown left behind. “Better than I ever imagined, baby. Bet you taste even better, but we can test that out later. C’mon, we’ve got a play to write, yeah?”

You hum out a response while firecrackers burst pleasure into your veins. He puts your panties in the pocket of his black denim jeans, making you bite your lip ‘cause he looks so fucking hot. You wonder if you’re getting those back, but you already know the answer to that question the second the thought runs through your head.

After he gets situated on your desk chair with his laptop in front of him on the desk, he beckons you over with a nod of his head. You step over to him on weak knees, until you’re close enough for him to pull your leg over his thigh.

You don’t drop yourself to sit on his thigh yet. No, you can’t just yet because the cold air of the room reaches your wet cunt, and you suddenly realize that you’re seriously about to grind your clit on Eddie Munson’s denim covered thigh. Eddie Munson, the boy you hate, or are supposed to hate. You freeze with a knee between his legs to keep you upright. You break eye contact with him ‘cause you don’t think you can handle looking straight into his tantalizing eyes. He seems to notice your hesitation and takes his hands off your thigh.

“You okay, baby? We don’t have to do this,” he says, his big brown eyes looking like pools of sweet toffee. You don’t think you could ever say no to him, even if you wanted to.

“I want to,” you mutter, heart racing in your ears. You keep going when you realize he doesn’t believe you. “Just got nervous, but I wanna do it.” He nods and tugs on the hem of your skirt, signaling you to sit down properly on his thigh. When you finally do, you jolt forward, not expecting such intense sensitivity between your legs. That stupid smirk you’ve grown to hate appears on his lips, and you find yourself wanting to kiss it off instead of slap it off.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says while putting his free hand around your waist.

You inhale deeply through your nose and start making movements small enough to create a friction that’s just barely there. When he notices you’ve begun to rut against him, he presses a wet kiss to your cheek and diverts his attention to his laptop and begins typing.

Without his full attention on you, you gain more confidence to move your hips until you’re fully grinding on him with a hand on his shoulder. The roughness of his jeans catches on your soaked clit just right, sending bolts of pleasure through you like electricity running in your veins.

You watch him concentrate with squinted eyes and his bottom lip slightly bit between his teeth. You want to reach over, kiss him, and soothe the bite with your tongue. Instead, you bring your thumb up and pull on his lip, watching it pop out. He gives you a small appreciative smile and gets back to writing without another glance. It should leave you unsatisfied, but you feel too good to dwell on it.

His hand sits on your lower back, drifting down to the tops of your ass when you rut forward. The only sounds in the room are the quick clicks and clacks of Eddie’s keyboard, the gushing wetness of your cunt, and your sex-dripping, breathy whimpers. Eddie’s hand on your back travels down to your hip, guiding you to rock against him much rougher this time. You bite back a moan at being manhandled in a way the sprouts chills from your core to your skin. You rut deeper and deeper until the bundle of pleasure starts growing in your lower stomach.

Through cloudy eyes and static ears, you notice he stops typing. His head comes down to rest against your shoulder, lips pressing kisses to your warm skin. Your breath hitches into a shallow moan when your mind wanders to what those same kisses would feel like on your pussy. You turn to watch his eyebrows furrow in thought until he hums, sits back up, and starts typing.

Feeling needy for attention, you grab his hand off your hip and bring it up to your neck while still rubbing against him with the same vigor as before.

“Naughty slut,” his raspy words and pretty smirk ignites another wave of wetness to drip down from you. Your eyes roll back when he squeezes the pressure points that makes your brain get all fuzzy. You feel his hand drift back down your neck, but you’re already grabbing it again to get more attention.

“Please hit me, Eddie. Please, please just slap me,” you beg, your bottom lip sitting heavy into a pretty pout that he can’t say no to.

“The more you distract me, the longer it’s going to be ‘til you get to cum,” he doesn’t spare a glance at you.

“Please, Eds.” You hold his wrist against your chest, clothed tits pressing against his skin, and squeeze it while you continue to beg. “Just one, please?”

He sighs and without warning, slaps his hand across your face hard enough to hurt, but not enough to bruise. You let out a whine while a fresh set of tears start to sprinkle in your eyes. Your body gives out, making your head lean against his shoulder while you keep rutting back against him, tears-staining your cheeks so prettily.

He doesn’t notice you’re crying until your sniffles replace your whimpers against his neck. With a furrow in his brow and a pout on his lips he pulls your head back to see your tears.

“You okay, baby?” He smooths a hand down the cheek he slapped.

“Yeah, it jus’ feels so good,” you promise, hips coming back down to rub yourself even harder- deeper.

“Look so pretty when you cry,” you hear him whisper into your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You lay against him again, eyes fluttering shut from the strong friction against your core. Your breath hits his neck each time you puff out an exhale, raising goosebumps on his skin.

“Is it b-e-a-r- or b-a-r-e when someone says bear with me?” You nearly laugh at his audacity to ask you such questions when you’re floating in a completely different headspace.

“It’s- oh god. The first one,” the end of your words drift off into a moan when his fingers clutch hard enough to leave bruises on your hip. Your hands tangle into his hair, while you change the pattern of your thrusts to be much shorter and quicker.

“That’s my smart girl. Thank you.” His words only make the mess under your skirt even messier. You pump your cunt faster against his leg, the bubble of pleasure in your stomach growing and growing until it’s threatening to pop. He seems to sense this and halts your movements against him.

“Woah, slow down. I still have a bit left to write. If you cum early, you’re getting a punishment, okay? My good girl doesn’t want that, right?”

My good girl. My good girl. My good girl.

You whimper in response, the words echoing in your head. Your hips go back to rut against him ‘cause your mind is too flooded of him, him, him to fully stop relieving the painful ache. You feel like you’ve been rubbing against him for what feels like hours, but in reality is probably ten minutes. His typing feels slower and slower the longer you hold in your pleasure.

That is until you hear him close the laptop.

“I finished, but you have to beg me to let you come and maybe I’ll think about it.” That evil rasp that sits behind his voice has the tears returning to your eyes.

“Please, Eddie, let me cum,” you’re breathless and it’s so hard to get words out.

“That’s the best you can do? I’ve seen you do better.”

“I’ve been good- so good, can I cum, please?” you wrap your arms around his neck and press his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, getting pleasure from just being close to him. “I’ll do whatever you want, please. I’m yours, Eds, just wanna cum on your thigh.”

“Hm okay. You can rub your tight, messy cunt all over me ‘til you come, baby.” And then he’s bracing your hips with strong hands at either side to guide you into your climax. It’s so sudden and so fast that you can’t help the moan that leaves you when you come, loud and breathy.

“That’s it, good girl.” Every push against his thigh feels electric, making you grit your teeth together and squeeze your eyes tight as the shocking waves of pleasure explode and explode until he’s slowing down the rapid pace of your hips and you’re riding out the rest of the high.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear before smoothing a hand up and down your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple. When you open your eyes again, moving back to cup your face with one of his hands. The intensity of your climax juxaposing his gentle actions has you leaning forward to kiss him, unable to stop yourself.

He kisses you back softer than before, delicately brushing his lips across yours. With your head clearer than earlier, you can finally focus on him, letting the smoky sweetness of his mouth invade your senses until your insides feel warm. When he pulls away, you’re chasing his lips for more, wanting to kiss him just a little longer before you go back to reality. He lets you get two kisses in before separating again.

“You know this means I’m not gonna stop being mean to you, baby,” his face is twisted into a serious look.

“I know, I didn’t think so,” you mutter back, lip pouting at his expression that’s borderline upset.

“Just means I get to ruin my girl now, yeah?” His smirk is back, so your worries are gone.

“Yeah, ‘m your girl,” you mutter dreamily, head falling back down against his shoulder.

“You wanna go to bed? Could get you some water or a snack.” Heart swelling, you revel in his sweetness.

“Can we just stay like this? Just for a little bit longer, please?” Your voice is tired. Every part of you is tired. But you want to appreciate the moment before it’s gone.

“Whatever you want, sweet girl. Was thinking I could swing by tomorrow, and we can finish editing the play?” Oh god, the play! You’d nearly forgotten.

“It’s okay, I can do it. I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother, sweetheart. What time should I be over?” You tuck your hands between both your bodies, occasionally brushing your fingers against his lean torso.

“Eddie, seriously. I have no problem doing it. Didn’t you say you were busy for the rest of the week?” He laughs with that brilliant, contagious smile on his face.

“I lied about that. I was just so eager to see you, I wanted it to be tonight.” You’re giggling along with him, despite your slight confusion on why he’d want to see you after he’s been so mean to you.

“Okay, you can come tomorrow-”

“Yeah, that’s what I plan on doing. Think you gave me blue balls.”

You’re so flustered it nearly hurts. “Thought we were actually gonna edit the play…”

“Oh, yeah, we can do that too.” He looks at you with that stupid boyish smile that has you swooning.

“I hate you,” you murmur and for the first time you don’t actually mean it.

He lets out an amused scoff, “yeah, I hate you too. I have to leave though it’s getting late.”

You nod and get off him, slightly disappointed that he has to leave so soon. It is nearly midnight though, and you should probably start cleaning yourself up and get ready for bed. You don’t miss the wet patch on his jeans where you were sitting and neither does he. But you decide to ignore it for the sake of not being embarrassed.

“Kiss for the road?” And how can you deny him when his hair is all messed up and his eyes look so soft. You give him a quick one, tucking his bottom lip between yours before pushing him towards the door of your room.

“Wait, wait,” he hushes you, catching your hips and pulling you closer for a better kiss. One that has you leaning into him and wrapping your arms around his neck until you’re both pulling away breathlessly.

“One last thing,” he drags himself over to the edge of your bed. Your heart flips when he picks up the sultry polaroids you so carefully left out. “Can I keep these? Just to help me get off tonight since you’re the one who caused this,” he points down to the prominent bulge in his jeans. That white-hot feeling returns to your cheeks and you’re nodding, trying to get your words out steadily.

“Yeah- yes, take them, but I want them back,” you say as you lead him out the door to your room and walk him to your front door. He walks out, turning back to you.

“Can’t promise they won’t be covered in-”

“Bye, Eddie,” you slam the door in his face ‘cause maybe you’re back to being mean or maybe ‘cause you would’ve either passed out or dropped to your knees right in front of him if he finished that sentence.

thanks for reading!

#eddie munson #stranger things #t choking

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