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jobean12-blog · 1 year

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Campaign of Chaos

Pairing: Steddie x reader (Eddie Munson x reader x Steve Harrington)

Word Count: 1,741

Summary: Steve wants to learn to play D n D with you and Eddie and things take an unexpected turn.

Author’s Note: I don’t even know. I couldn’t get the idea of Steve being silly during a D n D session and Eddie just getting a kick out of it out of my head and then this idea popped in because why wouldn’t they use the dice to do something like this and have fun! haha! Enjoy and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @wannabehamlet thank you sweets! 🥰 (and as always everyone is 18 or older in this fic)

Warnings: fun flirty fluff, silly D n D play, sorta strip D n D (but really just rolling the dice), cursing, cock warming, implied smut (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)

GIFS NOT MINE: Thank you to @cinemagal for the first, the second @taylorsmylover and the third @yelenabelova and the fourth @stevieschesthairs and the last @quinta-brunson thank you al so much! 🥰

Eddie Munson Masterlist

“Can I seduce the innkeeper?”

Eddie just stares at Steve and you slap your hand over your mouth to stop your cackle.

“If you weren’t so pretty I’d punch you in the face right now,” Eddie answers with a smile. “And no, you can’t seduce the innkeeper. You’re a level 1 Fighter, persuasion isn’t really your strong point.”

Steve gives Eddie his best charming smile and leans closer, raising his brows.

“I bet I could seduce you…then I could do whatever I want.” Steve croons, flicking one of Eddie’s curls.

“Are you challenging the Dungeon Master Steve?” you ask, eyes wide but full of mirth.

“Why not?” Steve shrugs as he sits back with a wink.

Eddie quickly recovers, slipping behind his master screen and adjusting some things.

“You wanna play big boy?” Eddie asks, pinning Steve with dark eyes before they drift to you.

“I’m here aren’t I?” Steve answers, still smirking.

“Then let’s play,” Eddie simpers, grabbing his dice.

An hour later….

“Nah uh, Harrington. Pins don’t count,” Eddie says with a tsk.

“Aw come on!” Steve whines, sitting in nothing but Eddie’s denim vest, his underwear and two socks.

You giggle from your seat, still wearing your hellfire shirt, panties and bra.

Steve raises his brown eyes to you, imploringly. “Talk some sense into him baby!”

“He’s in charge Steve,” you say, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip.

Eddie blows you a kiss and looks back to Steve. “Well, what’s it gonna be Harrington.”

Steve huffs and starts to mumble under his breath as he removes one sock and throws it at Eddie’s face.

Eddie catches it and hangs it over his chair with Steve’s other articles of clothing.

“Your turn sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, eyeing you appreciatively.

You roll your dice right before Eddie does, waiting anxiously to see his roll.

“Son of a bitch,” he yells when he sees you have a higher roll.

You stand and do a little happy dance, shaking your butt Steve’s way.

Steve promptly lifts your shirt and slaps your ass, then massages the spot.

“You asked for it,” Steve says when you give him a look.

“So, what’s it gonna be Munson?” Steve says, waggling his brows.

Eddie’s still wearing all his original clothing except for his Reeboks. He pretends to think long and hard about what to remove next. He stands and toys with the buckle of his belt, his movements deliberate as he slowly drags it through the belt loops and drops it to the floor.

“Your turn Steve,” Eddie grins.

Steve swallows hard and blinks before he starts to search for his dice. He rolls and when he counts a sixteen he lets out a whoop. Eddie smiles and rolls his own dice, grinning deviously when he counts eighteen.

“No freakin’ way!” Steve huffs, standing up and whirling around.

He grabs at his hair and gives it a pull. “I had a sixteen! I thought that was like an amazing roll!?”

“Take something off while you whine Steve,” Eddie says, waiting with his arms crossed over his chest.

Steve stares him down, his eyes going soft and his lips pouting.

To Eddie’s credit he holds strong and doesn’t give in.

Steve scoffs and throws his hands up in submission.

“Fine,” he grumbles as he pulls off the vest.

“I like this look,” you whisper as your eyes wander down Steve’s almost naked body.

“Thanks baby,” Steve says sweetly before he returns his glare to Eddie.

“For someone who loves to be naked you’re sure complaining a lot,” Eddie teases.

“You’ve got it all wrong Munson. I’m fine with being naked I just can’t stand that I’m losing to you!”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs.

“I knew it!” Eddie sings. “Well, get over it because you’re almost out of clothes and I’m so close to winning.”

“Hey!” you shout. “What about me!?”

The two boys swing their heads in your direction, taking you in as you stand at the edge of the table, tapping your foot with your hands on your hips.

“Oh, don’t worry sweetheart…” Eddie hums. “You’re the prize.”

Both you and Steve narrow your eyes at Eddie.

“We never agreed to that!” Steve cries.

“Remember what our girl said,” Eddie reminds Steve as he holds a ringed finger up, “I’m in charge.”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes before he snaps it shut and sits with a plop.

“It’s your turn angel,” Eddie says.

You roll a two, immediately letting out a string of curses that’s followed by Eddie’s triumphant laughter. Eddie rolls an eleven and taps his fingers along the surface of the table, his eyes wandering over your body.

“Gimme your bra baby,” Eddie says, wiggling his fingers.

You reach back and unhook it, slipping it through the shirt before you drape it over his hand. He presses the soft material between his fingers before he lays it over his chair.

“You guys give up yet?” Eddie asks.

“NO WAY!” Steve answers. “Right baby?”

You look at Eddie through lowered lashes and give a little wiggle, making your breasts bounce.

“Never,” you whisper.

Eddie licks his lips, holding your gaze.

When he finally pulls his eyes away he motions for Steve to roll.

Steve rolls a fourteen.

He doesn’t react, knowing full well he could still lose.

Eddie takes his die and shakes it several times before he dramatically lets it bounce across the table.

A fifteen.

“OH, COME ON!” Steve groans and before Eddie can even say anything he pulls off his last sock and flings it Eddie’s way.

“Only one thing left Harrington,” Eddie beams.

Steve let’s out an exasperated exhale, his bangs floating up with the force of it.

You take your dice and roll it across the table. A seven.

You hold your breath while Eddie rolls. A seven.

“Now what do we do?” you ask him.

“You should both take something off!” Steve says, even though no one asked him.

“Fine by me,” Eddie says as he starts to undo his watch.

Steve starts to protest but Eddie gives him a warning glare.

“It’s a separate piece of clothing Steve,” Eddie explains with sass.

You still haven’t removed anything, knowing your next choice is a big one and once Eddie and Steve stop arguing they look over at you expectantly.

You decide on your panties, delicately lifting your shirt and hooking your thumbs into the lace at your hips and slowly dragging it down your legs.

Eddie’s fingers curl as he waits for you to give them to him.

“Why can’t I have them?” Steve pouts.

“You might get them later,” Eddie croons as he lifts the lace to his face.

He inhales with an appreciative hum and thumbs over the wetness on the fabric.

“Fuck,” Steve hisses when he sees it. “Why are we still playing?”

“Because I’m about to kick your ass Harrington,” Eddie sings. “Let’s finish this.”

Eddie adjusts himself in his jeans as he shifts on his chair and spreads his legs wider.

“Show us whatcha got Steve,” Eddie murmurs.

Steve makes every effort to vigorously shake up his die, his eyebrows drawn in with concentration and his jaw set with determination.

He rolls a twelve.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, “could go either way.”

Eddie rolls his die, the face of it coming to rest on a nine.

Steve jumps out of his chair with such force he shakes everything on the gaming table.

You and Eddie exchange a lopsided smile.

“STILL ALIVE!” Steve cheers. “TAKE IT OFF MUNSON!”

Eddie stands and pulls off one sock with a smirk.

Steve opens his hand and wiggles his fingers. “Gimme!”

Eddie flicks it his way and Steve grabs it out of the air.

“This better not smell Munson.”

“Never,” Eddie says, a hand pressed to his chest, looking appalled.

You can’t hold back your laughter. “Oh my god, you two are ridiculous.”

As if mirroring each other, their playful eyes turn to you, slowly growing darker the longer they stare.

“Your turn baby,” Steve says.

He turns to Eddie. “I hope you win this round.”

They high five each other and you make your grumbles loud and clear before skipping your die across the table.

“I rolled a seventeen!” you shout happily. “BEAT THAT BABY!”

“Phew,” Eddie whistles. “It’s gonna be hard.”

He takes his die and brings it to Steve’s lips. “Gimme some luck Steve.”

Steve blows on the die and leans forward as Eddie let’s out an exhale and rolls.

Everyone is silent as they stare at the die, now motionless on the table.

“IS THAT A TWENTY!?” Steve whispers. “Isn’t that like legendary?”

Eddie’s head moves up and down to answer yes but he can’t form any words yet.

“Holy shit,” Eddie finally whispers.

“You really are the Dungeon Master,” Steve says with awe, his eyes drifting to you as you stand and wait.

Eddie’s eyes slowly lift from the die to you, your hellfire shirt bunched between your fingers in anticipation. Without another word he walks around the table and stops just in front of you, pulling your hands free of the shirt.

He grabs the hem and starts to pull it up, his fingers brushing along your curves and making you shiver. You can hear Steve’s breath catch as more of your bare skin is exposed and when you’re free of the material Eddie’s eyes drop lower, his tongue darting out to trace his lips.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, letting the shirt fall to the floor as his knuckles ghost over your naked skin, his rings catching and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He backs away, his eyes never leaving your body, and sits again on his chair. Steve can’t take his eyes off you, even as he says to Eddie, “what now Dungeon Master?”

Eddie starts to unbutton his jeans, dragging the zipper down until he can push them off his hips and to his ankles, his boxers doing little to hide his obvious arousal.

“Come on sweetheart, take a seat,” Eddie croons as he pats his thigh. “You’re going to keep me warm until we finish the first part of this campaign.”

Your lips part in a gasp and Steve let’s out a frustrated groan.

“You can’t be serious Eddie…I can’t sit here like this…” Steve whines.

Eddie throws Steve his best winning smile. “Aw come on Harrington, I thought you wanted to try and seduce the inn keeper.”

@ysmmsy @nerdypinupcrystal @dreamlessinparis @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose

#steddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x you #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #joseph quinn #joe keery

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privateanxieties · 1 year

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hold me down, hold me fierce

Summary: You and Peter show up for a blind screening of a horror movie at your local cinema. It leaves you both shaken, but Peter seems to have taken it a bit harder than you.

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x female Reader; hurt/comfort, protective Peter & reader, fluff.

Words: no idea, estimate ~1K

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Horror isn’t the ideal date night genre, something both you and Peter agree on. At most, it could be an excuse to curl up into him whenever tension rises even if you aren’t particularly affected. However, your friends have been incessantly talking up the special event taking place at your local movie theatre. For seven days straight, Cinemagic is supposed to be showing only the infamous crown jewels of horror. None of the soft stuff, as your longtime college friend put it. You were intrigued and apprehensive simultaneously, because while horror isn’t the thing you’d call high cinema, it has, on occasion, left you pondering aspects of life that other genres normally didn’t.

You reasoned you could just walk out if the experience blows. So, on the last day of the event, you purchased two tickets for a random screening. As part of the mystique, you would only find out which movie you were to see upon being seated - the first mistake.

Unsurprisingly, Peter didn’t take much convincing, despite not being a horror fan either. He was thinking along the same lines you were - you could just have a cuddle and maybe sneak some kisses to distract yourselves if the movie sucked. And you tried, you really did. But your friend wasn’t kidding when she said no soft stuff.

Brutal. Violent. Demoralizing. Creeping into your skull and making a home to invite you into later, when you were to seek sleep, and instead offer torment.

You didn’t much curl into Peter throughout. He didn’t try to either. At some point between a horrendous suicide and the systematic torture of a young woman in captivity, you both got up and left. Peter almost scared you half to death by abruptly standing up from his seat and taking your hand, leading you out of the theatre without so much as a word.

And it’s been quiet between you since. Peter hasn’t let go of you - he pulled you into his side and kissed your temple softly, walking back to your shared apartment just as quietly as he left the cinema. Not that you’re in the talkative mood either, the sounds and sights from the film still incredibly fresh. Somewhere along the fifteen blocks to your home, you realize you’ve both been shaken by the experience in ways you couldn’t have anticipated.

It’s just torture porn, you try to reason so you can shake some of your pre-movie self back to life. But, somewhere in your mind you know better. These things do happen to people; every day, someone is having the worst day of their life and wishing they were dead. It’s hard to let go of the thoughts clamoring to provide nightmares later tonight, and keeping quiet certainly won’t help. However, when you look at Peter, still locked in his embrace, you realize he’s taking this worse than you. You’ve grown to read him well over the two years you’ve been together. He’s much deeper down the spiral than you are, and the way his fingers are locked on to your waist is a good indicator of his distress. He’s typically much more careful with his strength.

You open your mouth to say something, but then notice you’ve arrived at your building. Peter opens the door for you without letting go, and not even when you enter the apartment does he loosen up.

“Peter,” you try softness, but it just seems to break a dam. He wraps himself around you with a deep inhale, lifting you in his arms and burying his face in your neck.

And at once, you realize how much of a mistake this was on your part. You brought Peter to a screening of a brutal film with no regard for the things he must see during the nights he spends trying to make the city safer. You didn’t think to look into this before, or to drop the idea altogether. You didn’t think to look out for his mental well-being.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought us to - “

“Shh... Just let me hold you.”

The sound of his muffled voice, small and vulnerable like you’ve never heard it, is enough to make tears spring forth that you let fall without giving any indication of it. Peter carries you into the bedroom, laying you both down and clutching you to his chest, throwing one leg over both of yours. You get the feeling he’s trying to swallow you up, or cover as much of you with his body as possible, and this one act makes you understand what must be going through his head.

“We’re ok,” you whisper to him, wishing you could reach up and run your fingers through his hair, but both your arms are trapped in his hold, your right hand over his racing heart.

“You’re here. With me.”

You’re surprised for a second, but his words make sense in the context of what you experienced tonight. You were both emotionally scrambled, but in quite different ways. Your perception of what you saw is much more abstract, related to the real world in terms of horrible news and tragedies that sometimes reach the airwaves or get made into a documentary. Peter, on the other hand, bears witness to horrible things all the time. It’s never this bad, you know that - but it’s not hard to imagine he’d have memories that could produce similar frights.

“I’m here. With you. Always.”

You let another minute pass before the pressing guilt eating at you comes forward.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I should’ve thought about you, and I should’ve looked into it. You see enough of this in the suit, you didn’t need to have this too.”

Peter’s arms loosen around you the slightest bit, and he meets your eyes after touching his forehead to yours.

“That’s what you think I’m upset about?” he whispers hoarsely, like he’d cried without tears.

“Then what?” you whisper back, frowning.

There’s a semblance of a smile on his face, hollow and tired.

“Let’s just forget about it, alright? I don’t want to think about it anymore. Just wanna be here with you.”

Peter presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding you tighter and pulling the comforter higher over you both. You let the silence settle as the minutes go by, wanting nothing more than to drop the matter and provide the safety Peter seems to be asking from you. It’s only when you feel him relax, breaths slowing and hold loosening, that your mind finally grasps the true meaning of his words, and you’re both touched and horrified.

Peter wasn’t seeking your comfort for his distress at far-away things. He was trying to get close to you, to shield you entirely from unseen horrors. Or, rather, previously unseen horrors. Even in his sleep, he hasn’t shifted one bit from his position. He wasn’t trying to make himself feel safe - he was trying to keep you safe. Safe from the apparitions on the screen in a dark room, safe from the dread inducing possibilities, safe from whatever his mind conjured up that could only be soothed by coiling himself around you.

You sigh into the silence of the bedroom you share with your impossibly precious lover, remaining awake for as long as you can to murmur sweet reassurances between gentle kisses. In the morning, you’ll both feel lighter. A small piece of Peter’s soul was shown to you tonight, lighting a fire in your own that would dare chase away any nightmare, any fear. You stay awake for another hour, happy to wipe away the small frown that keeps forming between his brows every now and then, until sleep overtakes you in your love’s embrace.

- fin -

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #hurt/comfort #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #blurb

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