#shirt for ed is from uh

[lovebugism]

istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.

i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.

from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3

hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.

Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.

You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 

“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”

“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”

“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”

“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw tightens. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”

He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”

“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.

Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.

He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.

Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”

—————

By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.

You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 

You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.

“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.

“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”

“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.

“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”

You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”

You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”

“By who?”

“Who do you think?”

He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”

You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.

“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”

“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.

“You’re so annoying.”

Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”

“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”

You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.

You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.

“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.

You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”

“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot

18+

(characters are high but all consensual.)

Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.

But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.

You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.

Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.

Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.

It was— it was?

“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”

You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.

You don’t know why you’d told him that.

Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:

“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”

His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.

You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.

“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”

Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.

“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”

So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.

You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.

“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.

You were still watching the boy.

Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.

“Yeah? Feel good?”

You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”

You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.

“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”

You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.

“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”

The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.

“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”

You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.

You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.

You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.

“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve Harrington oneshot #Steve baby blurb

[munson-blurbs]

Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe

Us? Projecting? Never.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

Stupid D20. 

Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table. 

Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club. 

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now. 

When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can. 

“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door. 

The only people left in the room are you and Eddie. 

Of course. 

“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face. 

“You’re my ride.”

Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”

You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts. 

“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again. 

To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does. 

You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—

“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”

“N-No, ma’am.”

She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake. 

Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover. 

Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson. 

Crisis averted. 

Except…is it?

Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…

He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers. 

“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention. 

Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel. 

“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. 

“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge. 

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway. 

“Eds? You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing. 

You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”

“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself. 

The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong. 

And then you see it. 

Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact. 

It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name. 

“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”

He only nods in response. 

“What were you thinking about?”

Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it. 

You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention. 

Apparently, it very much had. 

“You liked it?” 

“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle. 

Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”

With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest. 

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”

You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”

He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”

“You can cum on them, Eds.”

And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop. 

He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts. 

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it. 

You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can. 

“Dinner and a movie?”

“I’ll wear that shirt.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #smut #requests

[judasofsuburbia]

“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.

steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”

a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“eds. eds, can you hear me?”

“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”

“who’s crying?” steve asks.

“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”

more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.

“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”

“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”

“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.

“got it.”

steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.

steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.

eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.

“help me,” eddie mouths.

“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.

“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.

“give her here,” steve says.

eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.

“what’s her name?” steve asks.

“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.

“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”

she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.

“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”

“probably,” eddie mutters.

“i’m going to anyway.”

steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.

eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“

“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”

eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.

cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.

so he decides to do it scared.

the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.

“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”

cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”

cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.

“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”

cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.

“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“

cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.

it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.

steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.

“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.

eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”

“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.

“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.

“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.

“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.

they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.

“you're magical,” eddie whispers.

“please,” steve scoffs.

“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.

”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.

”do what?“

”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.

steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“

eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.

”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“

”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.

eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.

”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“

”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.

”maybe but it wasn't enough.“

”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“

eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“

steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“

”i'm getting it.“

they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.

”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.

“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.

“thank you again,” eddie whispers.

“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.

eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.

“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”

“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.

”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“

eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“

”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”

eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.

“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.

that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.

when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”

(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)

#emily writes #idk why i hc steve being great with babies but i just DO #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fics #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

[ediewentmissing]

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Eddie leans in further towards you from the opposite side of the table, pressing his rings against the wooden surface, “Everyone has a crush on at least someone.”

He’d asked you whether you liked anyone or not many times before, and each time you instantly denied his query. But he was right, it was bullshit. And he could tell. Usually he didn’t push, just changed the subject to something innocent, but today he was impatient, but he’d wondered what you type was for too long, and today, he planned to find out.

Although the chances were that you were into the mainstream, stereotypical, hot guys, Eddie had a tiny ray of hope that maybe he was your type.

“‘Kay, uh…” He thinks for a moment from across the table, then smiles, “How ‘bout a celebrity? Or fictional character?”

You sigh huffily, ignoring him and turning your gaze to the pile of homework you were supposed to be helping him with. He gets up and sits abruptly down next to you.

Eddie grabs your chin and turns your head to his face, and your eyes peel hesitantly away from the incomplete work to his. He’s got his puppy-eyes in action. His melted caramel puppy-eyes.

“Fine,” You give in, and he straightens up, excited, “I’ll compromise; I tell you a celebrity crush of mine, and you have to study,” You press a finger firmly into the pages laid on the table, “otherwise you can say bye-bye to graduation.”

His nods his head eagerly, awaiting your confession. You take a deep breath in, preparing yourself for the inevitable teasing that will come out of this.

“Kirk.”

“I require a last name.”

“Ham-“

He leaps out of his seat and jogs around the bench in a frenzy. “HAMMET? KIRK HAMMET?”

You nod, suppressing a laugh, because he looks as if he just shit himself. Maybe he did.

“HOLY SHIT!” He runs his hands through his hair in bewilderment, “THIS… THIS IS A GROUNDBREAKING DISCOVERY! I- I MEAN… CHECK MY PULSE!”

He grabbed you wrist, placing your palm on this chest. His heart rate was soaring, thumping underneath your hand.

“Christ, Eds! Calm down!” You pull your palm away from his faded Whitesnake shirt, secretly not wanting to, and he plops himself back down next to you. You begin to flick through the pages of the unfinished homework.

“So why Kirk?”

“Huh?” You glance at him, then back down.

“Why Kirk of all people? Most girls are into… What? Like, Tom Cruise? Brad Pitt, Ralph Macchio, Rob Lowe-“

“Hey, stop right there.” You hold up your hand, “Rob is a heartthrob, for sure, but doesn’t matter because Kirk is top-fucking-tier and beats, like, ninety percent of the competition.”

Your answer felt so close to home. Eddie was beaming. Kirk was a certified metalhead, so was Eddie. They had the same style, liked the same music. And they both had rocking personalities. You we’re practically confessing your love to him, and all of a sudden, Eddie felt like he actually had a shot with you. Maybe he bet ninety percent of the competition. It could be why you stuck around, because nobody else did.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb

[cosmal]

cake — send me in a character and a prompt and i’ll write you a blurb!

eddie munson + soft!shy!gf’s love language is gift giving. maybe friends to lovers?

guitar pick

summary you come over late at night to give eddie a gift.

content eddie munson x shy!fem!reader

Eddie didn’t mean to scare you, really it was an accident, but it doesn't stop him from feeling bad. But he really didn't know you'd be at his door when he opened it up.

"I'm sorry," you gasp. Which is awful because he should be the one apologising. "Sorry, Eds, Wayne let me in."

"It's okay," he says and looks down at you. Tights tucked into your frilly socks at your feet. They wriggle into the trailer-grade flooring. "Sorry, are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm okay," you sigh, and then you blink slowly. Eddie remembers it's late - really late. And you're here, jacket over your pyjamas, and a beanie on your head.

"Y/N," he says and moves out of the way to let you into his bedroom. You move, and despite months of being together, you're hesitant about it. You scuffle along the ground and turn to make sure he's behind you. You wait for him to sit down before you do. "Did you walk here?"

"Yeah," you say quietly, taking off your beanie now you've settled. "Eddie, it's fine, don't worry about it." You only live around the corner. Still, it's 11pm and Eddie feels like he might throw up.

"Y/N," he says and tries not to sound stern, "baby, why didn't you call?"

"Because," you sigh, nibbling your bottom lip unthinkingly like always, "because, I got really excited to come see you and didn't even think about it."

Eddie scoots across the bed and nudges your thigh with his knee where he's got his foot tucked under him. "Excited, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows and feels pleased when you duck your head down to look at your hands in your lap.

"Eddie," you say downwardly, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed. "Stop, no, not like that."

Eddie doesn't sound disappointed because he isn't. He doesn't care why you're here, he's just happy you are. He thinks if you'd come over just to see the stray cats and not him, he'd still just be as pleased. Just to see you is enough.

"Oh?" he asks, leaning his weight into you. You lean with him and Eddie has to hook an arm around your shoulder to stop you from falling into his pillows. You giggle with shy happiness that makes Eddie feel fuzzy. "What're you here for? I saw you five hours ago."

You lean your face into his shoulder, cheek all smooshed up against the sleeve of his sleep shirt. Some Tom Petty merchandise from the dollar bins at the thrift store behind the arcade. It's starting to smell like you. You hide yourself in his side and he can't see your face properly.

"I've got something for you," you say quietly, waiting for his response.

He shifts to rock you. "Oh really?" He finds it hard to hide his excitement.

"You gotta," you steel yourself and Eddie squeezes your knee, "you gotta promise you won't tell me if you hate it. I don't think I can take it," you say seriously.

Eddie tenses and then laughs gently. "Sweetheart, I would never. I'll love it, swears."

You sigh and reach into the inside pocket of your jacket. Pulling out a rolled-up bit of tissue paper, you hand it to him. You won't look him in the face.

Eddie carefully unravels the paper in his hand and drops the contents into his other palm. A long, silver chain with a plastic plate at the end of it. He flips it over to inspect it. It's a guitar pick.

"It's, uh," you say when he looks it over, "it's one of my picks."

You're only new to guitar, mainly acoustic, bass when Eddie can convince you to sit between his legs and teach you.

"Oh," he lets out a deep breath, deflating, "sweetheart, that is so cool. Like totally, amazing."

"Yeah?" You're so shy about Eddie feels like he could die.

"The best thing ever," he groans before he falls on top of you and down into the bed. You yelp, still just as demure now that he's hovering above you. He cages you in with his arms beside your head.

"Eddie..."

"Seriously," he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, "so cool," the other cheek, "thank you," your nose.

You fluster underneath his doting, pushing your face into where he's got his arms around you. "Do you really like it, Teddie?"

Teddie Eddie thinks fondly. Of course, he likes it. He loves you even more. "Really. Actually. Truly."

It takes you a second. You smile something ruining and roll onto your back. "Cool, 'cause I have a matching one." You pull a necklace from out underneath your sleep shirt. There, on the end of the chain is a guitar pick Eddie had given way back when you were still just friends.

Eddie drops himself into you and groans, long and suffering. "Jesus fucking Christ, baby."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x shy!reader

[maxinemaxmayfield]

For the STWG daily drabble prompt: summer camp

“You were a summer camp kid?” Eddie asks, looking at the photo stuck up beside Steve’s desk.

He’s probably about 8, missing a front tooth, hair messy and a carefree smile across his face.

“Yeah, that a surprise?”

“Just figured you were more of a horse-back-riding-and-sailing kind of kid.”

Steve snorts. “It’s Indiana, Eddie. You want your kid to disappear for a couple months, you send them to camp.”

Eddie hums, looking closer at the shirt Steve’s wearing. It’s a grainy photo, old and faded, but he recognises that design.

“Wait… is that Camp Tippecanoe?”

“You know it?”

“Uh, yeah, I went there.”

Steve looks at him curiously. “You didn’t even live in Hawkins back then.”

“No, but Wayne applied for me to go. They had a program for ‘underprivileged’ kids, probably a tax break thing or something. But I got in, and he offered to drive me, so my folks couldn’t say no.”

Steve drops down next to his bed, reaching underneath and pulling out a battered shoebox. He doesn’t say a word, just removes the lid and starts rifling through the contents.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks him, kneeling on the other side of the box.

“What year were you there?”

“Uh, I was… I think around 10, maybe? So probably 1976.”

Steve doesn’t answer, just keeps flipping through the photos like he’s looking for something he knows is in there.

He stops at a photo of two boys side-by-side. “I went every summer until I was 12, Ed. Every single summer.”

And then Eddie is looking at a photo of his younger self, hair buzzed and a skinny arm thrown around the boy next to him, a boy who looks an awful lot like -

“You were little Stevie?” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, eyes dropping from Steve’s at a sudden memory that crashes over him like a rogue wave.

“How much do you remember about that summer?” Steve asks, quietly.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the carpet between them, suddenly very interested in memorising the exact shade.

“Everything,” he finally admits.

“Me too.”

And when he looks back up, he sees the same soft, kind eyes he saw behind the mess hall right before he leaned in for his first kiss. A kiss with a boy he never thought he’d see again after that summer. A kiss he never forgot.

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #daily drabble #demogorgon daily fics #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #my fic

[steddiejudas]

STWG Daily Drabble 9/30/23

prompt: drunk talk

“Ssteeeve! Over.” Dustin’s voice comes over the radio, staticky and slurred.

It’s 1 AM, Steve has a shift first thing in the morning, and he really should be sleeping, but he’s been nervously awaiting this call all night. His kids are finally leaving the nest, going to their first party and he knew this meant they would be calling him for a ride at some point, so he kept the volume up on his radio. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, a whole chorus of clumsy voices crackle over the radio. 

“Steven Anita Harrington! Over.” Mike starts giggling like a mad man at the very incorrect middle name he’s decided to give Steve. In the background, Steve is pretty sure he can hear someone throwing up.

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, and then after a moment of silence, adds: “Over.”

“Thank you, Steven! We are great! Over.” There’s a cacophony of giggles and Steve is pretty sure they forgot why they even called,

“Do you need a ride? Over.” 

“To where? Over.” 

“Y- Dumbass, to your homes. Okay stay where you are, I'm coming to get you.” Steve zips a hoodie halfway up his bare chest, too tired and annoyed to put a shirt on, and grabs his keys on the way out the door. He’d had the good sense to make them tell them who was throwing the party, and a couple minutes later, he’s pulling up to a house that’s not too far from his own. He spots his gaggle of drunkards immediately, the lot of them huddled around the radio, shaking it and hitting the side like it’ll split at the seams and drop candy. “Hey! Dumbasses! Get in the car,” he hollers.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas look up from the radio, dumbfounded. “Steve, what are you doing here?” Lucas asks.

“Dude, I just told you I was coming to pick you up.”

Mike scoffs and puts an arm around Will who, yup that definitely was puking he heard, because Will is doubled over in the bushes. “You didn’t say ‘over’, dumbass.”

“Just get in the car! You guys are sleeping at mine tonight, or your parents will kill me for letting this happen.” The boys stumble towards the car, fighting over the handle for the front seat when a large hand appears out of nowhere and pushes them out of the way.

“Nuh uh kiddos, respect your elders. I ride shotgun.” Eddie says, swaying only a fraction as bad as the kids. They grumble, but agree and help Will into the backseat. “And a good evening to you, boys.” Eddie says, staring directly at Steve’s chest. 

From the back seat there’s a chorus of “Boo! Weak! Do better!” Even from Will, who is barely holding his head up off Mike’s shoulder. Eddie takes the challenge as Steve starts driving back to his house.

“I’ve always wanted to live in the jungle,” he says. Steve has to swat Eddie’s hand away from running through his chest hair, desperately trying to be annoyed and not aroused in front of the kids. But Eddie knows Steve knows he has a thing for his hair, and Steve has a thing for anything that gets Eddie riled up. 

“What are you even doing here, Eds? I thought you were at home.”

“Team bonding?” Eddie tries.

“He was selling drugs!” Dustin hollers, absolutely zero control over his volume. 

Eddie whips around in his seat to yell “You motherfucker!” at Dustin.

“Nope,” the kid retorts. “Pretty sure that’s you.”

When they pull into Steve’s driveway, he orders the kids to go to the living room and go to sleep. The boys slowly fumble their way out of the car and through the front door, all the while Eddie stares at Steve with a lusty fire burning in his eyes. 

“You wore that just to torture me, didn’t you?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I didn’t even know you were at the party. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“OR we could stay out here and fog up these windows.”

“Nice try, my beautiful little distillery, you are far too drunk. Now be a good boy and get in bed, and maybe I’ll let you pet me you little weirdo.”

Eddie unbuckles and throws the door open so fast that he trips over his feet and face plants getting out of the car. He hops up, no worse for wear, and turns around to salute Steve. “Sir, yes sir!” He yells, and sprints through the house to Steve’s bedroom.

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #yet again one of these prompts has gotten away from me

[steddieas-shegoes]

pinned in the pool

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pin’

388 words | rated t | cw: implied sexual content | tags: they’re idiots what can i say, getting together, 388 words is not enough time to showcase how absolutely stupid they both are but i did my best

🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲

“What are you- oh.” Robin’s lips pursed and her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Could you stop having dirty thoughts about my best friend when I’m here?”

“Absolutely not. You know I can’t control it,” Eddie replied, not taking his eyes off of Steve.

Steve was currently in the pool, using the net to clean debris in preparation for a pool party that afternoon. He was wearing a speedo for fuck sake.

“You better before the kids show up,” Robin turned away and walked into the house, probably to find anything to do that wasn’t be around Eddie and his extremely sexual thoughts about Steve.

“Can you grab the smaller one?” Steve asked a minute later, shaking him from his thoughts.

Eddie rushed to get the smaller net from the side of the fence, handing it to Steve.

“Thanks, babe.”

Eddie froze. Steve froze. The world around them froze.

The only sound was that of the music coming from inside the house.

“Um. Sorry about that,” Steve finally said, looking down as he started moving the smaller net into the corner of the shallow end.

“It’s fine,” Eddie said, even though it wasn’t fine the way his heart hadn’t found its normal rhythm yet.

Steve looked up at him, eyes squinting from the sun or deep thought. Maybe both.

“Actually, I’m not sorry.”

“Okay?” Eddie was confused as shit.

“I’m not sorry for wanting to call you babe or love or mine.”

“What.” This was escalating too quickly for Eddie to keep up.

“Come here.” Steve set the net on the pavement outside the pool and rested his arms on the edge. Eddie crouched in front of him, leaving barely any space. “I’m not sorry for wanting to tell you how I feel about you. Robin said I can’t be sorry about my feelings, especially for you.”

“O…Kay?”

“I’ve been thinking about you pinning me against the side of the pool and letting me ride your thigh until I come for the last 20 minutes. I’m hard as a fuckin’ rock, dude,” Steve chuckled, though he didn’t sound very amused. “Been waiting for Robin to go inside for ages.”

“You. Uh. What.”

“Eds, get in the pool.”

Eddie’s never stripped his shirt off faster. He slid over the edge and looked at Steve.

“Pin me,” Steve ordered.

“Yeah, okay.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmarch

[nouearth]

a business trip.

john wick x male reader.

warnings: smut, alcohol, blowjob (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, rough!sex, breeding, unprotected!sex, top!johnwick, bottom!reader.

request.

the soft tune of jazz—a sonata that you were never particularly fond of—became comforting in your solitude. though a piano was absent, hidden stereos were more than adequate as you gathered the ambiance would’ve been more or less the same if a pianist had performed. 

in the sleepy hours of the continental hotel, patrons of the lounge kept their conversations low, indescribable murmurs to your ears as you sipped on your drink—warm and smooth down your throat. 

the time on your phone flicked to midnight, and day two commenced. you came on a business trip. if you could, you would’ve rejected the offer to come to new york, especially when it took away time from your dog. but the rascal was spoiled, and that unfortunately meant you had to step out of your home office once in a while—all to keep her spoiled. 

but who ever said you couldn’t have a little fun during your trip?

the seats at the bar were unoccupied except for yours. clients preferred sitting in something that supported their back, you presumed, but that didn’t stop a gentleman from taking a seat next to you.

oh, wow. maybe the lady was right… this cologne is a dick magnet.

unbeknownst to you, his favorite seat was occupied and he was petty—though only slight, because a strong drink to incinerate his stress was his main priority. 

“bourbon whiskey,” the gentleman glanced at you, dried blood and cuts lanterned under the muted lights, but his black hair succeeded in shadowing. “please.”

the man didn’t seem phased by the injuries—a nonchalant attitude he maintained—but you were nonetheless surprised. speechless as no one, not even the bartender, seemed to have minded his wounds, the blood stained on his dress shirt, and the purple bruise beating on his cheekbone.

it was… strange.

“uh...” you cleared your throat, directing the sound towards the man to get his attention. he looked, clearly want to be left alone as he kept his gaze front. “sorry, i just… uh… should i be worried about that?”

though he didn’t seem to recognize you, the stranger was hesitant to answer, taking more than a few beats before speaking, low and gritty. “no, just… got robbed.”

“oh, shit, seriously?” you reached for you phone and turned the screen on. ”then, I think we should call-“ before you could take the process to another step, a gentle grasp latched around your wrist, stopping you.

“that’s very kind of you, but i’m fine.” he finally turned to you, a reassuring gaze pierced to your worry before letting go and looking front again.

handsome, even when he’s all beat up. focus, that was not the priority right now.

“dude, you’re bleeding.” remnants of warmth escaped your wrist, but his calloused fingers remained in memory. “you could have a concussion or something.”

“maybe,” the man took a sip of his drink, a simper to his face when it was concluded that you were evidently not from his world. “seemed fine as i walked the way here though.”

“jesus,” you couldn’t pick apart between fact or fiction, especially from a stranger, but he had no reason to lie. you took another sip, watching him and accepting his truth. “did you manage to get a hit on them, at least?”

you missed it, but the man glanced down at the red stain on his dress shirt, small and ruby-ed against the white fabric before taking a sip again. “something like that.”

“hm... i guess i know who to call for a bodyguard when i’m in the city again, then.” the ice between the two of you was slowly melting, puddles of it spreading when you two shared a chuckle. “(m/n), by the way.”

“john.” you can put a name to his face now, and it was fitting. mysterious and aloof, but never intimidating because there was a warmth inside of him that just needed a reason to come out. “never seen you here before, first time?”

“kind of?” by now, the drink has caught up to you and you felt a little more confident, turning your body towards him. “i mean, i’ve been to new york before—just not this hotel. i’m here for work.”

“i see,” when you faced towards him, john never meant to do a double-take. several glances were hidden in between the constant motion of drinking, the heat relieving john’s body whenever he took a sip—he likened it to medicine. “enjoying your stay then?”

but the more john looked at you, warmth began to rise instead. it eventually settled on his chest, neck, and cheeks to his dismay and it does not intent to wear off, no matter how many sips he took in greatest efforts to push it down—in a void somewhere, where he believed his feelings deserved to be buried.

“it could be better.” alcohol was a powerful drug, because you were one-hundred percent sure that the chance of you flirting without a drink would’ve been close to zero.

it came out of nowhere—this feeling. fleeting or not, your pants tightened and you needed a release. if it wasn’t him, then it was going to be someone else. and if you really couldn’t get laid, you’d be content with dry-humping a pillow.

you’ve seen it in the movies before—well, usually from a women—but it should be universally accepted, right? confidence was sexy: show some skin, make your intentions clear, and handle rejection like a real class act. 

worst he could do is say no…

“I don’t mean to be crass, but,” you tugged on your necktie, loosening it around the collar, and unbuttoned only the top two buttons. a slight breeze ghosted your neck as it radiated and yearned for lust—kindled further when you downed another drink, a last stop for encouragement, but also a device to handle rejection all at once. “do you want to fuck?”

john watched you stone-faced, but there was clear interest in his eyes—you watched it spread across his dark orbs. 

it was telling that you both needed something—a release: you with work and him with being mugged, apparently. your fingers tapped on the counter, impatient for an answer. 

after a smooth swig of his drink, john got up and beckoned to you with a small smile. “come on.”

as soon as the door shut, you were backed into it with considerable force—not a single second to spare. you held onto john in blind support, groping at his broad back and hips while john’s needy palms worked at your ass, squeezing tight to aid the erection in his pants.

“fuck.” pressure applied to your clothed bulge as john pressed his hips against you, rutting in irregular rhythms conducted by pure lust, and you desperately returned them, needier as you rubbed into his thigh. your moans caught between his lips when the pair found themselves on you, kissing you with the utmost passion—poisonous, because it stole your breath away. 

“i could come just like this.” you spared enough oxygen to breathe out, but later found it swallowed when john kissed you again, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth. his tongue was sloppy, mixing the sweetness of your drink with the burn of his to form an entirely new recipe that only the two of you would share. 

complete darkness filled your sight while your neck was then bombarded with rough kisses, only broken when john unwillingly tore himself from your skin to strip himself. it was a tedious process because he was greedy, returning back to your neck and lips whenever a piece of clothing was thrown to the corner of the room.

but you were impatient, as was he, and knew things would never progress if he was submitted under the smell and soft touch of your skin. so you playfully pushed him, squeezing his chest in midst, and constantly knocking him back to his amusement while the glow of the moon became your guide to the bed.

“keep that up,” john held you by the waist again, applying his bare body to your clothed figure, half-undressed with your trousers and shirt left, as you felt his beard against your skin. a gentle brush tickled you, but his darkened, low voice sent goosebumps. “and we won’t make it to the bed.”

“hm.” a hum vibrated in your throat while he kissed your neck again, suckled at his favorite area because he could feel your cock throb against him, desperate to be freed from the fabric. 

you watched him in the moonlight as john began undoing your clothes, leaving a wake of hot kisses down your body the more you unveiled before him—cold, but john’s mouth made up for it as it wrapped around you like a warm glove. no warning whatsoever, but you preferred that, shuddering when he worshipped your body like a knight to a prince; calmed caresses to your calves while he polished your cock with godly licks. 

john’s fingers spidered up your legs and his palm found its way to your ass again, spanking one cheek hard enough for you to suddenly thrust your cock into his mouth and down his warm throat. “oh, fuck-“ 

he moaned around you, vibrations riding your thick veins as it would take a electrifying trip up north until you moaned, pleaded with him to be fucked—to no avail, simply because he was stubborn. 

briefly, john let you go with a slimy pop to stroke you, standing back up to kiss you in midst. you tasted yourself, the saltiness of your pre-cum lining your taste-buds as his tongue ran over yours in a wet and sloppy affair. “god, you taste so good…”

simultaneously, your hand worked at his cock, under-handing the weight of it with slow strokes—to the intimate arousal of your sluggish tongues moving with one another. it wouldn’t be long until you found yourself pressing into him again, gliding your wet cock against his, spreading and sharing john’s thick saliva between the two muscles.

your lips never his, neither did your hand on his cock—both of your cocks now, clumsily stroking—even when john began to prod at your hole with his finger, lubed up seconds before, teasing. only then, you pulled away when his finger slid into you with careful ease, and you flushed forward.

he embraced you with one arm around your body, holding you still while he worked you open, curling inside of you deeper with quickening intervals. you could practically come undone from this, but you refrained from doing so, distracting yourself with kisses to john’s chest, then his nipples, sucking hard to counter the overwhelming pleasure.

but he had the upper hand on you, only realizing when you immediately flexed around him when he pushed into you with another finger—slight difficulty, and so he worked you open once again. though, it doesn’t last long because he wanted to feel the tight stretch you’d provide for him—a heavenly need you’d happily supply. 

without any guidance, you bent over the bed and pushed your hips out, and he held you close. you laid there bare before him, looking back completely vulnerable while john toyed with you, taunting your arousal as he slid his cock in between your ass cheeks, wet and sticky from the lube. 

“come on…” you almost whined out into the sheets, refraining yourself from wiggling your hips. 

his silhouette didn’t budge and he only agitated your impatience even further by tracing your pucker with the plump tip of his cock, slow and teasing with a smirk you could hear. “you want me that bad?”

“fuck,” you were never one to admit things easily, and this wasn’t going to be the start of it. equally as stubborn as john was, you groaned into bed again and used your core to push back at his taunts. you began reaching back amid his continuing tease to grab ahold of his length. “if you’re not going to fuck me, then i’m going to-“

john’s reflexes were fast. as soon as you wrapped your hand around him, he pinned you further into the bed with a firm shove to your back. your chest stung when it rubbed harsh against the sheets and you immediately let go, lying pliant under his force. “you’re going to what?”

you struggled to move—to escape from his hold—but he was stronger in every way possible. every struggle was met with an ache to your body as he barely used a fourth of his strength to hold you down.

and your cock couldn’t have gotten harder.

“I’m going to-“ before you could respond, your throat dried up as john pushed himself inside of you with one slow yet rugged thrust, pushing heat back in, and filling your hole up with more. “f-fuck!” every muscle in your body tensed and you shouted out, almost a whimper.

his cock was thick inside of you. you can feel every pulse, every vein as he worked himself into you, back and forth with deep and slow thrusts, painfully stretching you out. it knocked the breath out of you and your legs wobbled, feeling your current stance weakening as your toes curled into the floor, desperately clinging onto the arrival of your soreness.

but you loved it. you loved how barely prepped you were because you can feel every inch of him reaching deep inside and violating your hole with the uttermost disrespect. he held your wrists together, your arms back and your chest pushed forward while your cock rubbed against the bed, and fucked into you—faster, harder. “look at you, fuck. you take cock like it’s nothing, hm?“

“m-mmm!” you whimpered out in response, your breath hitching as he repeatedly slammed his hips into you, continuously knocking any thought out of you. the painful pleasure was dizzying, finding solace in muffling your moans into the covers. your breath warmed your cheeks as you rocked into the bed from impact, gliding your cock in between the bed and your pelvis along. 

there was an ache in your shoulders, in your arms, in your wrists, but john’s cock overpowered every feeling to the point where they became numb. all there was left was john’s rapture and you basked in it. the heaviness of the sex-filled air, the humidity of your bodies when john decided to push his all of his weight onto you and fuck you like you were nothing but a void, the warmth of his breath when he kissed your shoulder and neck, and the sting when he bit.

overwhelming was an understatement of your current state of euphoria. you took him in and overloaded yourself into his pleasure. every thrust, every breath was submerged into you, compelled to mirror even a fraction of the pleasure john felt, and it was only when his cock drove into your prostate with unbeatable force that you did—tenfold.

“oh, fuck! don’t stop,” you cried out, desperate in pushing back against him because you never knew if john would pull away anytime soon. “fuck me just like that, fuck!”

and he doesn’t. john was a man of promise and he delivered your pleas with force and speed, letting go your wrists to spread your cheeks apart and watch you be fucked open with his thick cock, growing more swollen with every passing second. you can feel his balls following his thrusts, swinging against your sweaty skin and creating the most delectable sounds. “like that, yeah? you like my cock, just like that?”

“f-fuck, yes!”

in this moment, you were his, under his control, and selfishly captured when john devastated your prostate with one more powerful thrust to your demands, and you found the stars. they resided in the back of your eyelids as you came—thick and heavy—in between the sheets and your twitching body. 

it wouldn’t be long until john joined you in your trip to heaven, his grasp on your hips hard and bruising as he yanked you back and met your ass to his cock one last time in uniting your body with his. 

warmth began to fill you as john came undone, shooting deep inside of you. his hips slowed, but never came to a stop as you clenched around him, tight and yearning for his seed, and with that, he milked himself inside of you, giving you all of him and what was left of him—creamy and thick. 

his breath was heavy in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back, and you groaned, coming down from the high that you just experienced. sleep approached for the both of you, but he maintained the steadiness of his hips, spreading his load in you as if he was marking his territory.

“so... how long until you’re leaving?”

“mmmph, four more days….”

"good."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#✰ : nou.fics #✰ : nou.johnwick #john wick x male reader #john wick x reader #john wick x m!reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick smut #male reader #x male reader #x reader #x m!reader #m!reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #bottom male reader #top john wick #x y/n #john wick fic #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #nouearth #g: smut #x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick #keanu reeves x male reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x m!reader

[matchingbatbites]

praline sweet

Mature | 1.8k | Read on Ao3

This is a belated birthday gift for @tboyeddie! Sorry this took so long, I had like 4 versions of this going at once and couldn't figure out which one to actually use! I wanted to give you something soft, though, so hopefully this fits the bill! <3

CW: Omegaverse, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Pre-heat fluff, Rated mature for a little dirty talk and some indecent thoughts

The call is unexpected, when it comes. Robin's voice is familiar on the other end of the line, but what she says-

“Hey, Steve hit his pre-heat today, and the party is bringing him stuff to add to his nest, just to make our scents stronger. Pick out a t-shirt or something and bring it over when you have the chance, yeah?”

Eddie blinks, almost pulls the phone away to look at it, make sure it's real, because what?

“I uh, I didn't know Steve was so close to his heat.”

“Yeah, it's kind of early, but he said that's not weird. All you need to worry about is bringing something to add to his nest. Got it, loverboy?”

That's kind of a big deal. Omegas in pre-heat want to be surrounded by the scents of their pack, to have that sense of familiarity as their bodies slowly adjust in preparation for what is basically a three day sex marathon. This is Steve's first heat that Eddie is really aware of. He'd apparently had one a couple of weeks after the spring break from hell, but Eddie had still been hospitalized at that point. 

So now, three months later, Steve's heat seems to be right on time. The fact that he apparently wants Eddie's scent in his nest makes the alpha nearly kick into a purr. It ignites something deeper, too, the desire to bundle Steve up in the nest, to hold him and keep him safe, to stretch him open on the alpha's cock and help him through his heat instead of leaving him to suffer alone-

And yeah, killing that train of thought immediately while he's still on the phone with Steve's best friend. 

“Yeah, sure. I'll head over this afternoon.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie can't resist bringing a few things with him to Steve's. He grabs a couple of shirts, soft ones he's worn so much that they nearly have holes in them, and an old sweatshirt that used to belong to Wayne, that Eddie snagged for his own not long after he moved in.

Somehow, Eddie makes himself wait until after lunch before he heads to the Harrington house. He's nervous the entire ride over, only because he doesn't know how this is going to go. 

The thing between him and Steve is new, like three-weeks-old new, like only-Robin-knows new. It's a gentle bond built through joking and talking and just spending time together, and it's so, so fragile, at least to Eddie. 

Because Eddie's never dated anyone - much less courted an omega before. What if he fucks it up? What if he does something wrong that makes Steve break up with him and their friendship is ruined and Robin fucking kills him for hurting Steve? Fears that he has yet to voice, that he’s shoved to the back of his mind every time he's seen Steve since they started dating.

He tries to shake it off, but he’s still nervous as he rings the bell, announcing his arrival. It’s not long before the door swings open to reveal Steve on the other side. He looks a bit rumpled and sleepy, like he’d been napping before Eddie showed up, but he chirps when he recognizes the man on his doorstep. 

Eddie grins as Steve blushes at the involuntary reaction, but doesn't comment on it. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said you needed some stuff for your nest, so I brought you a few things.”

The omega seems to melt a bit at the gesture, and the scent of praline pecans fills the entryway as Steve says “Thanks, Eds. You wanna come in?”

Eddie nods and follows Steve inside, waiting briefly for the younger to lock the door behind them before he guides Eddie up the stairs to his room. He passes the clothing over to Steve, who immediately takes one of the shirts and presses it to his face, inhaling Eddie’s own black tea and clove scent.

“I didn’t realize your heat was so close,” Eddie says as he props his hip against the desk, and Steve glances at him as he begins to add the shirt into his nest.

“Yeah, it’s actually early. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I, uh. I think being around you made it happen faster.”

Eddie tamps down the alpha pride that swells at the admission, that Steve’s omega is reacting to him, to his presence. “Well, we can talk about it now, if you want?” he asks instead, and Steve turns to look at him, the second shirt in his hands. He wrings it nervously before turning and tucking it into the walls of the nest, a bit closer to the head of it this time - easier to smell. Eddie’s Alpha preens. 

With that task done, Steve takes a breath and turns to face Eddie once again.

“I like you, Eddie. Like a lot. I had some time to get to know you even before we started dating, and I really, really like you. I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, so it feels way too soon to ask you to spend my heat with me - I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because you’re my alpha - but I’d really love it if you would stay for some of my pre-heat? If you want to, no uh, no pressure or anything.”

His alpha. Steve called Eddie his alpha. 

Eddie’s been so worried, so scared of fucking things up that he’s been taking it slow, carefully feeling out each step before moving on to the next. He hadn’t realized that Steve was so far ahead, that he was already so comfortable with claiming Eddie as his after only a few weeks of dating, not even courting yet. And Eddie wonders-

He’d already been half in love when he asked Steve out. Had Steve felt the same? 

For the first time since he decided to take that chance, to ask Steve on a date, Eddie’s worries disappear as Steve’s claim instantly quells the alpha’s fears. He crosses the room to stand in front of Steve, and can’t resist reaching out to touch him, one hand settling on Steve’s neck and the other on his waist. The omega hums softly and leans into the contact, and Eddie smiles.

“Stevie, sweetheart, honey. I would love to stay with you; for your pre-heat or your full heat, whatever you want.”

Steve blinks at him, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t have to, Eddie-”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know, but I want to. Gotta make sure my omega is taken care of during his heat, yeah?”

Hands snap to grab Eddie’s shirt as Steve actually trills, the sound high and delighted before it shifts into a pleased purr. Eddie laughs and tugs Steve into a sweet kiss, and feels the vibrations against his hands, his lips. It quickly peters off into a gentle hum as they just stay there, holding each other and trading soft kisses.

“I am a little disappointed,” Steve says after a moment. “I was kind of hoping we could have our first time before my heat hit.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs his thumb over the twin moles on Steve’s cheek. “I mean, we still have a few days, technically. If you're, you know, feeling up to it. If not, our first time doesn't have to be during your heat. I can help you this time without fucking you.”

“You say that, until I’m in the middle of it, crying and begging you to fuck me, to come in me and knock me up.”

And fuck, the mental image that conjures up. Eddie takes a deep breath to settle his Alpha, to calm the sudden desire that shoots through him at just the thought of it. The scent of sweet praline floods his senses, and he can practically taste the teasing undertone as Steve grins at him, clearly aware of what he’s doing.

Eddie gives a playful growl and goes to respond, but is cut off when Steve's hand shoots up to his face, covering his mouth as he yawns wide. He forgot that Steve had been sleeping when he showed up, and probably hasn’t slept enough to satisfy his instincts. 

“Is this what the next few days are gonna be like? Lots of naps?”

“Not just naps. There’s also cramps and snacking,” Steve corrects, and Eddie just shakes his head fondly. He reaches over to grab the sweatshirt and passes it to Steve. “Well, let’s get you back to bed, then. I need to run back home and grab some stuff since I’m staying, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re all cozied up and safe.”

Steve smiles, something soft and gooey, but as he takes the sweatshirt and holds it up, reading the logo on it, it shifts. He looks at Eddie, unimpressed but with a teasing shine in his eyes as he says “Atlanta Braves? Really?”

Eddie just shrugs and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wayne's from Georgia.”

The omega just shakes his head before pulling off the sweater he’s currently wearing and slipping on the navy sweatshirt. “This feels wrong,” he says even as he tucks his nose into the collar, eyes fluttering as he inhales the alpha’s scent, and Eddie chuckles.

“I’m sure the Cubbies will forgive you this one time, sugar.”

Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he climbs into the nest, and Eddie watches as he bundles himself up in the soft blankets. He looks so fucking cozy, and the alpha can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?” he says, earning a soft chirp from the sleepy omega.

It only takes Eddie about half an hour to collect what he needs and get back to the Harrington house, and Steve is still asleep when he makes his way back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and shakes the omega gently, trying to wake him as carefully as possible.

“Stevie?” he says and gets a soft grumble in response. Eddie huffs a laugh and tries again. “Baby, I’m not gonna get in your nest without permission. You gotta invite me in, sweetheart.”

Some part of Steve’s sleepy mind must recognize what Eddie’s asking, because a hand appears from the mess of blankets to grab Eddie’s shirt and tugs him closer. The alpha smiles and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s laying with Steve, their arms wrapped around each other and Steve’s face pressed into his neck.

Eddie’s purr rumbles low in his chest as he starts to doze, and the room is flooded with the scent of spiced pecans and home.

#cj i hope you like this!! #we've talked before about pre-heat fluff and i just wanted to give you some of that #i did try to make it spicy but they were not cooperating 😔 #so fluff it is #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes #omegaverse

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #wayne munson #I just am obsessed with Wayne being like who is this snotty rich kids oops I adopted him #Wayne and Steve forever #also Steve gives me huge scared of my dad vibes #so I just feel like if he came out he’d be beat up #tw: abuse #but I also think that if Steve was hurt #Wayne and Eddie would be like oh yeah? death to you #anyway idk #I just love them your honor

[ladylannisterxo]

Flannel and Lace

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 1.9k

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, dirty talk, basically just porn without plot

Summary; Eddie comes home to find you wearing one of his flannel shirts, wearing only his flannel shirt.

A/N; Listen. I am obsessed with the photos going around of Joseph Quinn's costume tests but am also distraught that they put this man in a flannel and then didn't even use it! Now, I'm just absolutely feral over it - this is the end result! I am a sucker for a good flannel, especially on a very attractive man. This is just shameless smut, enjoy!

{ masterlist }

You were early; Eddie could hear you shuffling around in his room as soon as he waltzed in the front door. He had hoped he could have some time to get settled before you arrived but then again, it’s not as if he really minded, he had given you a key weeks ago for this very reason. Queen was playing, muffled behind the closed bedroom door and he smirks, knowing you’re in his room swaying your hips to the beat and pretending to be a rockstar when you think no one is looking.

He slips down the hallway quietly, sliding off his leather jacket and denim vest as he goes, hoping to catch you in the act of rocking out. He loved how you felt the music throughout your whole body, how free you always looked. But more importantly, he loved how absolutely adorable you got when you realize you’ve been caught; how your hands cover your face and you shy away from him in pure embarrassment. Because he’s the rockstar, not you. Or, at least, that’s what you always say when he catches you. Eddie desperately wants to bring you to a gig one of these days, see how you lose your inhibitions when he begins to play.

But, of course, this is not what he sees when he pushes open the door. His closet door is hanging wide open and you’re standing in the middle of the room with one of his red flannels draped over your body. And from his vantage point, this single red flannel is the only thing you’re wearing. He groans at the sight, how can he not, and you look over your shoulder with a soft smirk and a teasing glint in your eye.

“You never wear this,” you muse, turning around to fully face him.

Eddie grips the doorknob tighter for stability, licks his lips because fuck, he was somewhat right. That blessed red flannel falls across your frame like a waterfall, a little long in the sleeves but stopping just at the tops of your thighs. It’s also unbuttoned, completely, exposing your supple skin to his searching eyes. No bra, the garment just barely conceals you and to him, you might as well not even be wearing panties because the thin lace leaves nothing to the imagination. He can feel himself growing hard just looking at you and he shifts in place, a poor attempt in controlling his lust.

“It’s, uh, it’s too hot to wear,” he chokes out, brain scrambling to formulate coherent sentences.

That’s when you finally look at him, eyes sparkling in the midday sun and Eddie wants to melt into a puddle on the floor because if you looked at him just like this every single moment of every single day, he’s sure he’d die a happy man.

“But that leather jacket you don every day is breezy as can be,” you chuckle, eyebrow arching. “I don’t know, Eds, this feels nice to me. It’s real soft.”

“It looks good on you too,” he responds automatically.

“Yeah?” You sway from side to side, the flannel moving with you like a lover keeping you close.

“Sweetheart, all my clothes look good on you.” It’s honest and Eddie didn’t realize how true that statement actually was until you kept trying on his clothes. He’s wrapped you up in his leather jacket more times than he can count and don’t get him started on the things he wants to do to you when you wear his Hellfire Club shirt.

You smile, biting your lip softly. Then you’re crawling onto his bed, granting him a full view of your ass before placing yourself on your knees, hands resting against your thighs. Your hair is a disheveled mess and the flannel has fallen open a bit more, exposing a teasing amount of your tits to him. Eddie thinks you belong on the cover of a magazine or a poster he could tack onto his wall and jack off to when you’re not with him.

“Let me guess,” you say, pulling the garment off your shoulders, “you still think it would look better on the floor.”

Eddie finally kicks his ass into high gear, crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. His fingers tug at the flannel to bring it back up over your shoulders and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle but insistent. His hands trail down to cup your breasts and you push up into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp when he tweaks your nipples between his fingers.

“I like when you wear my clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, “makes me feel closer to you.”

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m serious,” he chuckles, “but you sitting here posed on my bed makes you look like something out of a magazine.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, trailing your tongue along his jaw. “Like one of those dirty mags I found underneath your bed?”

“Well,” he begins, pulling back to meet your eyes, “you would make a great centerfold.”

Then he’s cupping your pussy in his hand and your breath stutters in your chest. He smirks before kissing you again, fingers working diligently against your clothed heat.

“Eddie, please, please,” you whine, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pulls, your legs coming out from under you as you drop unceremoniously onto your ass. He pulls on you again and you’re brought to the edge of the bed where he’s already waiting, down on his knees. Your heart flutters with anticipation.

Eddie’s breath is hot against your still clothed pussy and you shift your hips closer, silently begging for what you want most from him. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours as he teases a single finger across the lace. You let yourself drop to lay flat on your back with a sigh, deciding to let him do whatever the hell he wants to you.

“So wet,” he murmurs when he pushes your panties out of the way, “is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “all for you, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Is that right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan loudly, hands immediately flying to tangle in his hair. His tongue circles your clit before latching on to suck fervently against the bundle of nerves. You arch your back, fingers tightening, keeping him right fucking there. Two of his fingers slip inside of you without warning, setting a steady pace as he pulls every single sigh and moan he can from you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His mouth pulls off your clit with a resounding pop and then he’s moving up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss, fingers still working inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes wide as he watches you come undone beneath him. Rolling your hips in a frenzied pace, you take his fingers deeper and deeper until your orgasm pitches through you like gasoline being poured over an already blazing fire. Eddie works you through it, he always does, and once your hips come to a stop and the spasms have subsided, he slips his fingers out of you and brings them to your awaiting mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he muses when you wrap your lips around his fingers, “see how good you taste?”

You hum in agreement, swirling your tongue around his digits. He groans at the sensation before pulling his fingers from your mouth abruptly and bringing that same hand down to smack your ass sharply. You jolt, pushing your body further into him and he wraps his arms around you and rolls, bringing you up to straddle his hips.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asks, shifting his hips for you to feel his hard cock against your thigh.

You waste no time in helping rid him of his clothes. Your fingers start at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before latching your lips onto his collarbone and licking and sucking your way down to your prize. When you reach the denim of his jeans, you slide off the bed long enough to unfasten them and pull them and his boxers down in one fluid motion. You straddle his waist again, rolling your hips across his cock. His hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading the flesh tightly in his fingers and you bring the flannel back down off your shoulders. Turns out Eddie was right, it does get a bit too hot.

Grasping his cock in hand, you line him up at your entrance and sink down onto him slowly, enjoying the ache of him stretching you out. Eddie groans at the feeling of you already clenching around him, his hands bunching the fabric of his flannel around your waist to grip your hips tighter, to help you move against him.

Your hands fall flat on his chest for stability, his tattoos peaking out at you from in between your fingers. Fuck going slow and steady, you set a rapid pace, bouncing on his cock with what could only be described as pent up aggression, taking him fast and hard and deep.

“Fuck, yes,” you mewl, throwing your head back with an elongated moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, smacking your ass again. “Ride my cock until you cum.”

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm and tight circles, taking you higher and higher. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, coursing through your veins like a tidal wave. You bite your lip with a whimper, one hand smacking against the wall in front of you to find purchase. Eddie has leaned up to capture a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened peak, and the onslaught of these added sensations has your orgasm crashing over you.

Crying out Eddie’s name as pleasure overtakes you, he wraps one arm around you and flips you until you're flat on your back. He hikes your leg up on his hip and fucks you hard through your high, chasing his own release. Your nails rake down his chest, leaving wild and red scratches in their wake, as you roll your hips against him meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.

“Eddie, please, cum inside me,” you whine, “I want to feel it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts and with two more hard thrusts, he’s exploding inside of you, warming you up from the inside.

Eddie pulls out of you gently and pulls your panties back in place, keeping all of him inside you. He kisses you then, all tongue and teeth, pulling you close, so close, you could meld into one single being. He interlocks his fingers with yours, lips pressing gentle kisses along your knuckles as you brush his hair away from his eyes.

“That was - shit, you really went for it,” he says after a moment, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“I did say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you remind him, “although I wasn’t expecting you to get this hot and bothered over me in your clothes.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you could be completely naked or covered from head to toe and I’ll always get hot and bothered over you,” he says, capturing your lips in another kiss. “But I’m pretty sure this flannel is yours now.”

“Good,” you whisper, pecking his lips again, “I wasn’t going to give it back anyway.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #writing by 's'

[niceboyeds]

okay but Eddie’s face when you show him a nude you’ve taken for the first time? you cannot tell me he wouldn’t be so flustered from seeing you pose seductively in lingerie you picked out just for him.

18+ MDNI

“do you like it, baby? i thought black was your favorite color?” you tease, seeing his face redden at the sight of you in the photo.

“i— fuck i love it. i love it. you look so fucking good.” he stumbles out, eyes still roaming the polaroid that he holds oh-so carefully in his hands.

“oh good. i was worried the photo wouldn’t do that set justice.”

“it uh… it most certainly does.” he gives an encouraging nod, looking back and forth between you and the picture.

“well that’s kinda too bad. i mean, i wore it over here just in case so you could really see it. but if the picture is perfect then i suppose it’s not necessary.”

you continue to tease, pulling your shirt down to confirm that the lingerie is underneath your clothes.

seeing the black strap of the bra is all he needs to set the polaroid down and make his way over to you. you could feel just how hard he was through his jeans as he collided with you.

“you better fuck me better than you’ll fuck yourself to my nude later, Munson.”

“oh baby, you’re so much better than my hand.”

he rips off your shirt and jeans, leaving you in the black lace, before stripping himself down completely naked. you go to help remove your bra and panties but he instead reaches to pin your hands above your head.

“leave it on. god i mean, look at you?! fuck i could cum just at the sight of you like this.”

“yeah? you like seeing me pinned underneath you in nothing but a couple thin pieces of lace? you better prove it.”

with one hand still holding your wrists, he uses the other to pull your thong to the side and guide his cock into your wet hole.

he pushes in slowly at first, both of you moaning at the feeling after waiting what felt like an eternity. in actuality it was maybe 10 minutes, but the wetness that pooled in your panties begs to differ.

“fuck Eddie!” you whine out, feeling him bottom out inside of you and craving more friction. “please move.”

“so funny how the one who did all the teasing is now the one begging for more.” he smirks, looking down at the mess you’re making on him.

you start to grind your hips against him, urging him to move but he says strong. moving his head down to your chest, he licks your nipple through the mesh lace bra. the feeling makes you shudder, but still needing more.

“Eddie! please fuck me!” you moan out, feeling his cock pulsing inside of you. and with that last plea, he does. he fucks you hard.

his mouth continues to move up and down your chest and neck, leaving marks everywhere they linger. his strokes are hard and fast as he brings his free hand back down to your aching cunt.

using his fingers to hold your panties out of the way, he rubs his thumb against your sensitive clit. he rubs harder and faster as his strokes become more sloppy, a tell-tale sign that he’s close but wants you to finish first.

you can feel yourself approaching your climax, it’s growing more and more intense as he continues to fuck you harder than he has before.

“shit Eds! i’m so close!”

“cum for me doll, show me how much you love it when i fuck you in your little panties and bra.” you moan loudly at his words, nearly forgetting complete that this all started because of the photo you gave him.

but with one final pump, you finally reach your orgasm. he follows behind with a few more strokes, letting his warm cum soak your dripping pussy.

he removes his cock from you and releases your wrists from his grasp. you feel your thong get placed back to cover you up before you start to drift off to sleep.

he crawls up beside you on the bed, holding you close and his fingers roam your body softly as if to soothe you.

with a yawn you cuddle into him more, whispering to him that you’ll make sure to take more photos for him. and you will certainly have to if it means he’ll keep fucking you like that.

#hope y’all like this one :) #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things

[sturniolos-blog]

dad!matt but reader is struggling w an ed while going thru pregnancy..?

Eating disorder - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - eating disorder (don’t read if you’re not comfortable,) throwing up, sad, fluff, self consciousness, insecurity, mentions of a handjob, slight arguing

disclaimer: first person POV

—————————

1:24pm

It was hard for me, to be pregnant and barely see her husband.

It was harder to see women he was friends with that was the definition of beauty.

All of it was hard.

As I stood at the kitchen island, staring at the to go box of food Matt had left for her before he’d gone to work.

I got this from Buffalo Wild Wings, I know you’ve been craving spicy stuff. Love you so much, baby(s) -Matt

The note read, I wanted to crack a smile, dive in to the food. But I couldn’t, my mind didn’t let me.

You’re not supposed to eat. You’re already gaining enough weight with the baby. Matt’s not gonna know, throw it out, pig.

My thoughts ran wild and mean. I didn’t particularly think i was a big person, I definitely wasn’t skinny but I also definitely wasn’t fat, maybe a couple pounds “overweight.” But the expectation nowadays want you to be perfect or else you’re not good enough.

I let out a sigh, picking the to go box up and bringing it to the trash, shoving the box in the bottom of the trash, knowing that if Matt saw the box in the trash he would freak.

—————————

8:48pm

The rest of the day consisted of me sleeping on the couch, or watching TV. Getting up to wipe counters and vacuum occasionally, but otherwise just not doing anything else. Not like being 7 months pregnant was easy.

I scrolled through the channels with a bored look on my face, my hand holding my head up as my elbow was propped on the arm of the couch.

The door opened and Matt came in, holding another bag of food, with a big smile plastered on his face.

I internally sighed, guilt already eating away at me.

“How are both my babies?” Matt laughed, taking his shoes off and placing the bag of food on the coffee table before kneeling on the couch over me and kissing me softly.

He pushed into the kiss a little more before pulling away with a big smile, “Hi, pretty girl.” He whispered.

There it was again, pretty. That word, was he saying that because I’m his baby mama? Is he saying that because he doesn’t want me to be insecure? Or is he saying that be-

“Hey..” Matt grabbed my chin, making me look at him as he sat down regularly on the couch. “You okay?”

I picked at my ear and nodded, “I’m fine.” I said, pulling my hand away from my ear.

Matt let out a laugh and shakes his head, “You pick at your ear when you’re nervous or lying, so what is it? Am i making you nervous or am i being lied to?” He taunted.

I scoffed, my hand going to pick at my ear again but i caught my self, placing my hand in my lap. “Sorry, i’m fine. This baby just keeps pushing on my bladder, speaking of I have to use the bathroom.” I let out a short laugh, struggling to get up.

Matt stood up and helped me, “Okay, well I got in n out because I know you’ve been craving burgers lately.” He said, kissing the side of my forehead.

I shook my head, picking my ear once again but this time he didn’t notice as he started taking the burgers out of the bag. “Uh- i actually made a sandwich like twenty minutes ago so i’m not really hungry.” I said nervously, picking at my fingers.

Matt nodded, “That’s fine, baby. Now go use the bathroom before we have another accident like last week.” Matt teased.

I let out a scoff, “Screw you! I told you I had to go but you insisted on me giving you a ha-”

“Okay! Okay, go.” Matt cut me off as he let out another laugh.

—————————

9:57pm

I lathered lotion on my hands as i stood in front of the mirror in Matt and I’s room, smearing some on my neck and chest.

Matt came in with his hair wet, shirt off with sweatpants, coming up behind me and kissing the back of my neck, then kissing my cheek. His hand going to my belly, squeezing softly.

I smiled before he pulled away starting to get into bed as I started to put some overnight cleanser on my face.

“You sure you’re not hungry, n/n? I know you get hungry later at night now.” Matt urged on as he got comfy under the sheets.

I shook my head, “No that salad I had really filled me up.” I laughed, starting to get into bed.

Matt gives me a weird look, “I thought you had a sandwich.” He points out.

Shit.



“I had a sandwich and a salad so i’m extra full, can we drop it?” I snapped, not meaning to but it just came out.

“Alright, alright.” Matt said as i climbed into bed.

I turned off the lamp, the room going silent.

“Can we cuddle?” Matt whispered.

I let out a sigh, putting my arms out for Matt.

He immediately crawled into my touch, his head going onto my chest as his hand rubbed my belly, a gesture i used to hate, because i was fat.

—————————

8:34am

I wake up slowly, letting out a soft groan as i open my eyes. I let out a hum as i turn my head, looking over to see Matt’s head on his pillow, his face towards me as he slept.

His pink lips were slightly parted as he continued to take slow, unconscious breaths.

He was laying on his stomach as his arm was draped right under my pregnant belly.

I smiled before slowly removing his arm. He let out a small hum before he started to wake up.

“Mm.. good morning.” Matt said with his sleepy, morning voice.

“Sorry.. i didn’t mean to wake you up.” I apologized as I stood up.

Matt shook his head, indicating it doesn’t matter. He then gives me a confused look, “Where are you going?” He said as he rubbed his eyes.

“Bathroom, I told you this baby of yours likes to push on my bladder.” I complained as i started to walk towards the bathroom.

Matt lets out a laugh.

“Shut up!” I yell as I close the bathroom door.

I do my business before standing up, standing at the sink to wash my hands.

My eyes glance down at the water as it runs through my fingers.

The water starts spinning.

I look up to look at myself in the mirror, but I was also spinning, i couldn’t keep focus.

Everything was turning around me as I stumbled and almost lost my buisness. My back hit the door harshly.

“Babe, you okay?” Matt calls out.

I swallow harshly as I try to gain my balance, I try to speak. “M-matt, i think i-”

Thump.

Everything went black.

—————————

10:32am

I slowly blink my eyes open, my body hurting as i regain my conscious.

I let out a groan as I look around, noticing that I was in a hospital room.

“Baby? Hold on, n/n. Wait.” I hear Matt’s voice tell me, putting a hand on my leg.

“What happened?” I croak out.

“Just uh- drink this, sweetheart.” He said, a harsher tone to his voice, putting a cup of water in front of my face with a bendy straw poking out of it.

I bring my lips to the straw, sucking slowly as i swallow, my dry throat getting moist from the water.

I watch as a doctor comes in the room, holding a tablet.

“Y/n! So good to see you awake. Now, let’s talk. I’m gonna ask you a couple questions and i need you to answer truthfully and with full honesty.” She says.

I rub my eyes and nod, moving to sit up, rubbing my head but immediately groaning in pain as i feel a wrap around it, assuming i hit my head when i passed out.

I grabbed Matt’s hand.

“Okay, do you know where you are?”

“Los Angeles Hospital.”

She nodded and smiled, “Good, good. Next, do you know what happened?”

I look away for a second, thinking. “I passed out. Everything got spinny and then went black.” I explained.

She nodded, “Y/n, have you ever suffered from an eating disorder?” She asks.

I look at Matt who’s face turned pale, i shook my head. “Never.”

Matt squeezed my hand.

“Okay, well, Y/n, do you know the reason you passed out?” The doctor asks me, her tucking her hair behind her ear.

I shook my head as I picked my ear. I hear Matt let out a scoff.

The doctor looks at Matt, “Is something wrong, Mr.Sturniolo?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat, standing up. “I’m just gonna go grab something from the vending machine, i’ll be back.”

I held onto Matt’s hand tighter, shaking my head. “Matt, please.” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. I could tell something was wrong.

Matt clenched his jaw, looking at me before he nodded.

“Alright, Y/n, well the reason you passed out is because your labs show you haven’t eaten in a while, which is bad for a normal person, but even worse for a woman carrying a child. You see, your body is giving energy too two living beings, your food is shared, your sleep is shared, everything is shared. So when you don’t eat, it’s not just taking energy from you it’s taking energy from the both of you.” She explains.

“Oh, i just- i don’t- uhm-” I shake my head, not knowing what to say.

“Okay, i can give you two a minute or two to maybe talk and process, and then we can talk about things we have to make sure happens for the future and for your baby girl to be healthy.” The doctor says, walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Mat stands up and starts pacing the room as he bites his thumb nail.

“Matt-”

“Don’t!” He raises his voice. “You were struggling and you didn’t tell me? How could you do that to me? What are we even married for if you won’t tell me things like this?” He yells at me.

“Don’t yell at me! It’s not an everyday thing t-that you struggle with y-your body, a-and that you feel guilty everytime you take a bite of something! So d-do not come at me for not telling you that!” I yell back as my voice cracks.

A guilty look appears on Matt’s face, “I’m sorry. I just wish you would’ve told me. I want us to be able to tell each other things like this, we’re married, y/n. Married.”

I nod and sniffle, “I’m sorry.” I whisper out.

He shakes his head, putting his hand on my cheek as he kisses me softly. “It’s okay, just next time, please tell me.”

I nod and he kisses me again.

—————————

So this is the end hope you liked it idk why it took me so long i’m in another writers block like help anyway hope yall liked

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #spotify