#stfic

[thefreakandthehair]

The thing about drinking at 31 years old is that it's different from drinking at 18 years old– or 21 years old, or even 25 years old. Each shot, each drink, is one sip away from a terrible night’s sleep and an equally terrible morning.

Eddie Munson’s figured this out. Steve Harrington though? Steve Harrington has not. 

That’s how Eddie finds himself corralling his husband onto the couch after stumbling into the house, the front door slamming loud enough to jolt their cat out of her otherwise peaceful slumber. She glares for a moment before stretching her paws and curling back into a neat little ball. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Steve repeats, an immediate tell that he’s definitely not making it any further than the couch anyways. “I’m good, I’m fine, this– this is a nice couch.” He punctuates his thought by slapping the cushion and laughing. 

Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Yep, it sure is. You picked it out, remember?” 

Steve gasps and laughs some more, falling back into the corner of the sectional. “I don’t but it’s comfy so if I did, I did a good fucking job.”

He watches with fond comfortability as Steve squirms around on the couch and lays back, arms over his head and dopey laugh still on his lips. It takes a lot of willpower and frankly, respect, not to climb on top of this giggly, flushed, disheveled man he loves so goddamn much and kiss him until he’s flushed for other reasons, but he digs deep and focuses on doing the next best thing: taking care of him. Eddie’s a little worse for the wear in his own right but a sliver of his iron constitution remains from his wild youth and he hangs on by a thread. 

Eddie gets Steve situated into a comfortable position, his back against one side of the cushions and his head propped up on a few pillows to make sure he doesn’t end up with his face smushed into the corner somehow. 

“I’m good, I’m fine– hey, hey, what are you doing?” Steve slurs and Eddie looks up from his position at the end of the couch, his fingers moving quickly as he unties Steve’s sneakers. 

“Taking your shoes off? You can’t sleep in your jeans, Stevie. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” 

Steve hums from somewhere high in his throat but doesn’t say anything else Eddie moves to unhook his belt. 

“Stop–stop it, hey, I’m married!” Steve smacks Eddie’s hand and Eddie barely suppresses a cackle. “You’re hot and all but I’m married and my husband’s hotter than you anyways.” 

With that, Eddie can’t stop himself. Warmth spreads through his chest as he laughs, from his heart all the way down to the tingling in his toes. Even drunk, even with his eyes closed, Steve would still choose him without a thought and sure, after all these years, it shouldn’t come as a surprise but it does. Because Steve is Steve, and Eddie is Eddie, and Eddie still hasn’t figured out what huge karmic debt he must’ve paid for them to have become SteveAndEddie.

He stares at Steve who’s nearly asleep but feebly muttering words like “hot,” and “perfect,” and “lucky.” 

“Hey, hey, Stevie, open your eyes for a second?” Eddie brushes the hair back from his forehead, gently shifting it away from his bloodshot, glossy eyes. He’s beautiful, even like this, what the fuck?

“Oh,” Steve’s eyebrow unfurrow and the right side of his mouth turns up into a small grin. “It’s you. Hi, Ed.” 

“Hi, Steve.” Eddie chuckles and kisses his forehead. “Gonna get your jeans off so you can sleep, okay?” 

“Mhm, yeah, that’s– thanks.” 

Eddie coaxes them off, tossing them onto a chair where they’ll remain until the next morning, and sets a glass of water down on the coffee table for when Steve inevitably wakes up with cottonmouth. One more soft kiss and an even softer blanket later, Steve is out and Eddie tip toes up the stairs to bed. 

The next morning, Eddie wakes to see Steve next to him. At some point, he must’ve woken up and gotten himself to bed which gives Eddie the opportunity to stare uninterrupted in the silence of their bedroom. It stands in stark contrast to the boisterous night before– the loud music and jumping bodies and Chrissy popping a bottle of champagne in celebration of Robin saying yes, as if there’d ever been a doubt. 

Steve’s on his back, the sun just starting to intrude on their tranquility. He takes in Steve’s features, the same ones he’s memorized time and time again but that never fail to stun him just the same. The moles, the freckles, the scars that make him ache and feel thankful simultaneously. The strong line of his jaw, the eyelashes that flutter as he sleeps, that one tendril of hair that insists on curling until Steve forces it into place. Eddie’s seen a lot of the world now, having traveled a bit with his band, and there’s nothing that compares to the man sleeping next to him. 

Even if he’s snoring. 

When Steve does eventually wake up, trudging downstairs with one eye open and asking why Long Island Iced Tea’s even exist, Eddie’s ready with the necessities– a black iced coffee, two sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches delivered to their doorstep, and a Gatorade for himself. 

“You’re the fucking best, you know that?” Steve smiles through the pounding headache as he sips his coffee and tears into the sandwich. 

“Eh, I try,” Eddie grins with a mouthful of egg and leans over to bump their shoulders together. 

Comfortable quiet drapes over them like the blanket from last night still over the back of the couch, and like the jeans hanging off the recliner– little reminders of the night before and of the domesticity of the life they’ve built together. 

Once Steve finishes his sandwich, their cat, Florence, hops up on the table and starts batting at the rolled up wrappers. 

“Think she wants to play,” Steve grumbles, sliding off the couch and laying on the carpet. “Listen, Florence, you know I love you but kid, I cannot play right now. I’m barely alive.” 

Eddie doubles over and nearly spits Gatorade all over the coffee table. Even their terrible, hungover, washed up mornings aren't all that bad.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stfic #very small buckingham reference #myblurbs #alcohol tw #this is is not at all a nearly 1:1 blurb based on me and my fiance last night and this morning #(he's steve)

[juiceinpanties]

A Proper S'more

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): E

Words: ~3k

Tags: smut!, humping, nipple play, semi-public sexual activity, drug use (just some pot), flirting through food, friends to lovers, established friendship

Summary: Your best friend Eddie Munson invites you camping, and while you're reluctant at first, you realize this might be just the chance you need to finally show him how you feel.

Notes: I was rage-inspired by the TERRIBLE take on s'mores they recently featured on Great British Bake-Off. Pretty sure this is the first time the British have inspired hot, sexy smut. Thanks as always to @tonybourdain for her invaluable help as beta, idea bouncer-off-ofer, and just all around wonderful and amazing human.

This is meant as a one-shot, but if y'all want I can add more.

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog if you can! It's how posts spread around here; likes are appreciated, but they do nothing to boost interaction. :)

part 1 | part 2

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

“Camping?” You blink at him, confused. “Eddie, you hate camping.”

He scowls and kicks at the ground. “Yeah, I do, but Henderson and his friends wanna go, but their parents want some older kids to go to make sure they don’t set the woods on fire or something.”

You lift a brow, struggling not to grin. “And they nominated you?”

He smirks a little. “Dustin’s mom loves me.”

“Uh huh, I bet.” He's weirdly popular with moms, even your own. You'd think the whole metalhead thing would be a turn off, but they seem to like it.

It works for you, so maybe you shouldn't be that surprised.

“Look, Nancy and Steve are going, but I don’t wanna third wheel it. They’ll be makin’ goo goo eyes at each other all night.” He rolls his own eyes, then gives you puppy face. “Pllleaaase? I’ll be your best friend!”

“You’re already my best friend, doofus.” You sigh. “But fine. I’ll go. Anything to get out of a weekend with my parents’ passive-aggressive bullshit.”

“Fuck yeah!” He lifts your hand so he can high five you (you’re known to leave him hanging) and spends a few seconds jumping around before he comes back to you. “Okay, so, Saturday morning we’re meeting at the lake and then hiking to the campsite. It’s not too far, but far enough to feel like the wilderness. Should I pick you up?”

“Sure,” you say, amused by his excitement. “Anything special I should bring? Besides the obvious.”

“Junk food.”

“You don’t have that covered?”

He shrugs. “I’ll bring some stuff, but I like the way your mind works, snack-wise. That snack mix you brought at Christmas? Blew my fucking mind.”

“My aunt makes that, so I won’t be bringing it, but I’ll come with something good. Now we both have class, and you can’t cut again. I’ll see you after for Hellfire.” You say your goodbyes and head to class.

Maybe camping with Eddie Munson and a band of young miscreants isn't a great idea. The kids you're not worried about, but Eddie? Alone in the dark woods with Eddie? Okay, not alone, but...

What if Nancy and Steve decide to share a tent? Will you be sharing with Eddie? Maybe it's a sign: this is the time to finally make your move. You can roll over in your little shared tent and kiss him and slide your hand down his shorts and—okay, whoa, you're at school. Save thoughts like that for tonight, in bed, by yourself.

Today, math class. Saturday, possibly finally making a move on your best friend.

Eddie picks you up bright and early Saturday morning, and he's more or less dressed for hiking: that is, boots instead of his usual Reeboks, and his long hair is pulled back with one of his many bandanas. He also left his bigger rings at home, which makes him look almost naked.

"Hey!" he says. "Lookin' good, Camper Bob!"

You roll your eyes. "Such a dweeb," you say, but with affection. You're wearing a t shirt and jean shorts, plus hiking boots and a jean jacket. It'll be much cooler tonight, but for now it's warm, and hiking in jeans is always a mistake.

He helps you stow your pack in the back, then you hop in and you're off.

Everyone's already at the lake when you get there, and it's chaos. How can so few people make so much noise?! You give Eddie a Look, and he wades in.

"Alright, alright! Pay attention! Boy Scout Steve is leading this dog and pony show, so listen to him and don't be little shits! We're here to enjoy nature, and you can't do that if you can't keep the volume below a dull roar. So shut the fuck up for 5 minutes and look around!"

You muffle a giggle behind your hand and share a grin with Nancy. Steve is rolling his eyes and grimacing, but he loves this shit. He takes his place at the front of the group and gets everyone organized for the hike. Finally, after what feels like forever, you set off into the woods.

You hike until mid-afternoon, and by the time you stop everyone's tired and cranky. Steve gets people setting up tents and digging pits for fires while you, Eddie, and Nancy organize the food. There are enough hot dogs to feed an army, plenty of chips, baked beans (gross), and...

"Fuck yeah, s'mores!" Eddie says.

"Thought you'd like that," you say. You add another bag of marshmallows to the pile and his grin widens.

"You know, that'll go perfectly with this," he says and pulls a baggie from his jacket pocket.

Nancy's eyes widen a little. "We can't give that to the kids!"

Eddie makes a face. "I don't give kids drugs, Nance. It's for us! The more-or-less grownups."

"I'm in," you say with a shrug. "I need it after today."

"Knew I could count on you, pumpkin patch."

The two of you have this old running joke in your friendship: you are firm in your belief that he's actually a human Muppet, and nickname him accordingly. As a sort of payback (he has a rep to maintain, and "human Muppet" is not it) he comes up with the weirdest, most random shit he can think of to call you. This is a new one.

"What does that mean?" you say.

He shrugs and stuffs the bag away. "I dunno. It's fall. Pumpkins. It made sense in my head!"

"Weird things make sense in your head, Grove."

"That's the truth," he says with an unbothered grin. "Lemme go help Steve with the fire."

It's dark. Everyone's fed. The kids are around the fire telling scary stories. Eddie gives you a subtle nod and the four of you wander off to sample his product.

"This is probably a terrible idea," Steve says as he puffs and coughs, then passes the joint to Nancy. "We're responsible for these kids!"

"They're 14, Steve, not 6," Nancy says. She takes a delicate puff before handing it to you.

"They seem pretty good at handling themselves," Eddie says. The night's turned chilly, especially away from the fire, and he has his arm thrown around you in easy camaraderie. He's gained a little weight recently; still skinny, but not a rail; and it looks good on him. Feels good too, you note as you lean into him.

He takes the joint from you and inhales deeply before handing it off to Steve. He nuzzles your hair. It smells like wood smoke and leaves and under that, your usual shampoo. He tries to keep his eyes off your bare legs, but it's a struggle. "Not so bad, huh? Camping?"

You look up at him with a little smile. "I could learn to like it. Maybe."

You continue passing the joint around until it's nearly gone. Eddie carefully puts it out and adds it to the Sucrets tin he carries, then you head back toward the group. He grabs your hand and pulls you close. "C'mon, it's s'mores time," he says.

"Oh god I could murder a s'more!"

"Did someone say s'mores?" Dustin says.

"Grab sticks," Steve tells them. "It's time for marshmallows!"

He tosses the bags to Nancy and they all scatter to find roasting sticks. Soon you're back, stick in hand, eager for a roasted marshmallow-and-chocolate treat.

Nancy hands you a couple of marshmallows and you drop down onto a rock next to Eddie. "Burnt or bust," you tell him, and thrust your marshmallow-laden stick into the fire.

He laughs and does the same. Your marshmallows catch fire at the same time and you quickly pull yours out to blow out the flame. It's black and brown on the outside, oozy on the inside, and when you smash it between the chocolate and graham cracker, it goes everywhere.

"Oop!" You hastily lick trailing bits of marshmallow off your fingers and down your wrist, and when you look up Eddie's eyeing you, his own stick forgotten in his hand. "What?" you say.

"Nothing." He dips his head back to assembling his s'more. "Nope, nothing at all."

You lift a brow. That was...interesting. You aren't blind: you know Eddie checks you out from time to time. Or at least you hope so, but sometimes you think it's just wishful thinking. That clearly wasn't. Apparently sucking sticky sweet mess off your fingers is the way to his heart. Or at least his boner.

You squish your s'more together and take a bite, and of course chocolate smears on your lips and all over your fingers. You make a little noise of protest and start to suck your fingers clean again, and when you look over Eddie once again can't take his eyes off of you.

"Munson," you say with a little grin. "Are you going to stare or help?"

"Help?" he says, his voice breaking a little. "Help with what?"

"The mess I'm making. And look!" You point at his little marshmallow sandwich. Chocolate is dripping onto the back of his hand. "Silly," you say. You lean in and carefully lick the chocolate off his skin.

He freezes. You licked him. With your tongue. Now you're sucking more chocolate and marshmallow of your hands and fingers, all while looking right at him. Marshmallow. Long, melted strings of white that ooze just like—

No! Nope. No. He is NOT going to think of you and come in the same sentence. Your little pink tongue darting out over your full pink lips, licking the white off with a happy noise that he feels right in the cock.

He carefully sets his own uneaten s'more aside and grabs you. "C'mere," he says, voice rough.

"Eddie—!"

He pulls you into the woods, away from the noise of the kids and the heat of the fire, and pushes you against a tree. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and he looks down with a frown of concentration between his brows.

"You're kinda evil," he says.

"What the hell are you doing?" you breathe. Your heart is pounding, your cheeks flushed, and you still have marshmallow and chocolate on your fingers.

As though reading your mind, he grabs one of your hands and carefully sucks a finger into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, licking and sucking every bit of sweet off your skin, and you feel your knees go weak. You let out a soft moan and lean against the tree to support you.

He does the same thing to each finger and even your thumb, and by the time he's through you're panting and squirming. He rubs his thumb across your lower lip, tugging it a bit, and smiles at you. "Maybe I should get you back to camp," he murmurs. "You look a little...out of it."

"Oh shut up," you breathe. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a kiss.

His hand slips around to the small of your back while the other grips your bare thigh below your shorts. Your arms go around his neck and you're biting and sucking his full, gorgeous lips. "Eddie," you breathe. "Is this why you brought me camping?"

"What, to make out in the woods?" He shrugs a little. "No, but it's a really nice bonus."

You laugh as he kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and swirling against yours. He presses his hips into you and you slide your knee up against his thighs.

"Mmmm what's that?" you whisper. "A roasting stick in your pocket?"

"Not exactly," he says. He rocks against you just right, so that the bulge of his erection rubs you through all your layers of clothing. You bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper and he kisses you again, harder. "Goddamn I've wanted you forever, baby. To touch you and taste you and make you moan my name."

He rubs his thumb over your lip again. You're looking up at him with big, dazed eyes, pupils blown and mouth soft and swollen. He slowly reaches down to unzip your shorts. "You can stop me," he says.

You shake your head. "Don't stop, Eddie," you breathe. "I've wanted you too. I never—I was afraid to say anything, but—please?"

He kisses you hard and shoves your shorts down to your ankles. You kick them away as he drops to his knees and kisses your thighs. He bites. Sucks. You bury both hands in his hair and try to keep breathing.

He kisses his way up your body, completely ignoring your panties, and pushes your shirt up. He tugs the cups of your bra down and spends ages licking and sucking your nipples. He switches back and forth between them until they're both swollen and aching and you're wiggling against the tree.

"Eddie, please!"

"Please what, princess?" he murmurs, lashing his tongue back and forth across your nipple while he squeezes your tits with both hands. "Tell me what you want."

"My pussy! Please!" you gasp. "I'm so wet! I need you!"

"Fuck!" he rasps. He kisses your tummy. "Whatever you need, baby." He grips your hips and kisses just above your panties. Your head falls back on a quiet moan, but the tree's closer than you thought.

"Ow!" you say, sharply.

"Babe?" He jumps to his feet, but it's too fast. He reaches out to grab you, but you're a little dizzy from smacking your head, and you both end up tumbling to the forest floor.

You lie there a moment sprawled out on top of him, shorts off, tits out, and then you start to giggle. He barks out a laugh and soon you're both laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You move a little, your legs falling to either side of his hips so that you're straddling him, and you're both still laughing and gasping.

You rock your hips, and the next breath he sucks in is entirely different. "Babe—"

"Shhh. I can feel you, Eddie. Mmmmm you're so hard for me!"

He gets over his surprise quickly and grabs your hips again, this time to guide you as you move. "Yeah, princess. All for you. I swear to god every erection I've had for the last two years has been for you." He laughs. "And there've been a lot of 'em."

"Mmmm bad boy," you breathe. You rest your hands on his chest and grind against his erection. The rough material of his jeans makes your panties slip and slide along your dripping slit just right.

"Fuck, baby, that feels so fucking good! Don't stop!"

You lean down to kiss him, changing the angle just right, and he rubs his hands over your ass. You love the feel of his guitar callouses, how soft his palms are. "Eddie!" you gasp against his mouth. "God, Eddie, I'm so wet!"

He groans. "For me, princess? Is that all for me?"

"Uh huh, every drop! Fuck, I need—!" You rock faster, grind against him harder. You can't believe you're just out in the woods humping Eddie Munson's erection through his jeans. You feel wanton and incredible and you know you're close.

"Take what you need, angel," he breathes. "Anything you need. You gonna come, baby?"

"Uh huh!" you whimper. "Oh god Eddie oh fuck!"

"Good girl, fuck, that's so hot, you're so fuckin' hot! Take it, baby, come for me!" he mumbles in your ear, his breath hot and his words slurred by his own need for you.

"Eddie!!" you cry, a little louder than you intended, and the orgasm takes you. He holds you down against him while he bucks his hips to drive you higher and higher.

"Good girl," he says, almost a moan. "Good girl!"

You finally start to come down from it and fall against his chest. He kisses your temple, runs his hands through your hair. You lift your head to give him a long, easy kiss. "Your turn," you murmur.

"Fuck!" he gasps, and you're just starting to work your way down when you hear a familiar voice echoing through the woods.

Calling your name. Then, "Eddie!"

Your eyes widen. "Oh fuck!" You scramble to your feet and cast around for your shorts. Your panties are soaked and sticking to you, but there's not much you can do about it.

Eddie jumps up as the voice gets closer and helps you fix your bra and top, tug your shorts on and zip them up. You're barely decent when the flashlights bob into view and Steve and Dustin appear in the little clearing.

"Shit, there you are," Steve says. "We thought you got lost."

"Nope!" you say. You run both hands through your mussed hair. "No, just ate a bit too much. Needed some fresh air away from the fire."

"Dude!" Dustin says. He has his light trained on Eddie's crotch. Luckily his erection has gone down, but... "Did you piss yourself?!" he says around barely-contained laughter.

"What?!" He glances down and sees the big wet spot you left on his jeans. You feel your face catch fire.

"You did! You pissed yourself! I gotta tell everybody!"

"I didn't piss myself, Henderson!" Eddie says. "I spilled my flask."

Dustin shines the light in Eddie's face, and he winces away from it. "You brought alcohol and drugs on a camping trip with minors? Edward Munson!"

"How did you know about the drugs?!" Eddie says.

Dustin shrugs. "I've got a nose, dude."

"Okay, okay," Steve says. "Let's get back. You feeling better?" he says to you.

You glance at Eddie. "Much!" you say. "Eddie?"

"Feelin' great," he mumbles. "Hate that I spilled my flask."

Dustin just rolls his eyes and turns back toward camp. You fall in next to him while Steve and Eddie bring up the rear.

Steve nudges him. "You really spill your flask?" he mutters.

"Left my flask at home," Eddie says. "But I had to think of somethin'!"

"Uh huh." Steve's trying not to laugh. "That you or her?"

Eddie doesn't say anything, just looks away with a shrug. "I don't kiss and tell, man. But." He frowns and carefully adjusts himself. "It ain't me."

Steve muffles a bark of laughter in the crook of his elbow. "Okay then. Nancy owes me ten bucks."

"What?!"

"We had a bet that you two would hook up on this trip. I said yeah, she said no. I knew I'd win."

"Jesus," Eddie says, but he's struggling not to grin. He got the girl! For once in his life. You glance back at him with a soft, pretty smile, and his grin breaks through.

Yeah, he thinks he could probably get used to camping too.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #meg wrote this #stfic #emfic

[maxinemaxmayfield]

the boy in the band is backstage after the show on ao3 explicit | complete | 16k

Pigs might as well start flying. The sun could rise in the west and set in the east. Everyone could start ageing backwards. All those things would make more sense than Steve Harrington blowing him backstage at a gay bar.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #stfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stfanfic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #my fic #tbitbibats

[binickandros]

The Space Between Chapter 7: A Lesson on Both Dungeons and Dragons

AO3

A Stranger Things fanfic

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Characters: Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson, Jason Carver, Laura Cunningham, Heather Holloway

Additional Tags: No Vecna (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Touch-Starved Chrissy Cunningham, Touch-Starved Eddie Munson, Soft Eddie Munson, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Chrissy Cunningham Cheats On Jason Carver, Not Jason Carver Friendly, Bad Parent Laura Cunningham, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use, Car Sex, Squirting, Semi-Public Sex

Summary: New Year's Eve 1985. At midnight the lights go out and the goal is simple: kiss the person closest to you or have bad luck the whole year. For Chrissy Cunningham, the closest warm body just happens to belong to Eddie Munson. The kiss is electric, life-altering, and after six years of crushing on each other from afar, they're both left wondering where they can possibly go from here. Can two people, so seemingly different, ever find the common ground they need to truly connect?

It turns out the space between a princess and a freak isn't as wide as either of them thought.

#hellcheer #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #eddissy #hellcheer fanfiction #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer fandom #chrissy cunningham #st fic #my fic #stmine #stfic

[somethingqueerisgoingonhere]

Speechless. That’s how will felt as the elevator doors opened. 

Mike stood on something to elevate himself above the crowd milling about him, holding up a sign and surrounded by their friends. 

WILL BYERS HAPPY almost BIRTHDAY!

Speechless.

Will made his way, ears burning, over to everyone. But it was Mike that held him like a magnet, pulling him in.

Mike stepped forwards and pulled Will into a hug. It was just a hug. But it wasn’t just a hug because no hug had ever felt like this before. Goosebumps rose on his skin, his cheeks tingled with his flush as Mike wrapped him up in a hug with so much feeling. Even someone as oblivious as Mike would be able to feel the charge in the air. They pulled back awkwardly, taking in all the eyes on them, their friends sharing knowing looks. 

Mike took a step back from Will, his fingers matching the tremble in Will’s own. 

“We missed you,” quieter, “I...missed you.”

Will could feel the flush rising in his cheeks, “I missed you too.”

Mike gave him some space as their friends bustled in to give out hugs and warm welcomes. 

Back seat of the car, Mike and him shuffle awkwardly, wary of each other’s space. 

Their friends were busy chatting but Will knew it wouldn’t drone out the sound of their voices, anything said here would not be private.

Yet Will’s brain was filled with an endless need to voice every stupid thought that came to him. 

Thankfully Mike stopped him long enough to hand him something. 

Will cradled the intricately little wrapped parcel in the palms of his shaking hands.

“It’s a gift,” Mike said evenly, “it’s everything I don’t know how to say.”

Will unwrapped the parcel carefully. So much care had been taken that Will was filled with unworthy guilt. 

A mixtape.

Will’s voice wavered, “you made this?”

Mike nodded in his humble way, as though Will didn’t not have anything valuable for him in return. 

A folded letter with nervous creases as though it had been folded over and over again, fluttered down from behind the mixtape. 

Will picked it up as though he were afraid it would disappear before his very eyes. 

Will’s nerves left him in a rush as he began to laugh. 

“What is this?” he could barely contain his laughter.

Mike grinned, “you don’t like my drawing skills?”

Will’s eyes roved over the drawing. A headstone with the words: Here lies Mike Wheeler’s dignity. 

Will covered his laugh with a hand, “you didn’t have to be so forward.”

Mike laughed, “it was just sort of heat of the moment stuff...”

“We’re almost home so you better get ready,” Will said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Why? What’s at home?”

The car pulled to a stop in front of the house. Will opened the door and climbed out, he looked over his shoulder at Mike, “no more chaperones.”

#byler #byler season 4 #stranger things byler #mike and will #mike wheeler #mike x will #will x mike #will and mike #will byers #st #st4 #st5 #stranger things #strangerthingsvolumeII #strangerthingsseason4 #strangerthingsseason5 #stfic

[usersiren]

straight for the throat (you’re an animal) by sirencalls explicit ♡ 4.7k ♡ steddie

Eddie’s eyes go soft with understanding. He looks down at his feet. “Yeah, the nightmares kick ass, don’t they?”

Steve swallows, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Something like that.”

Eddie looks up at Steve through his lashes, seemingly assessing him, and whatever he finds causes his face to break out into a wide grin. “Oh, I know that look. How did you end up with the steamy sex dreams and I got stuck with the gory shit?”

buy me a coffee

#stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steddiefic #kinktober #nsft #stranger things fic #stfic #st fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #sainteddie #tuserhaley #tuserjw #usermorgue #bigfootsmom #siren.txt

[stevethehousewife]

This Covers 4 spots on my July Break Bingo card.

A Man’s Gotta Do What a Man’s Gotta Do

AO3 Link

Ship:  Background Dustin x Suzie, Minor Stoncy Mention (Not a ship-centric fic)

Summary:

Steve swallows, looking around in a blind panic, and then he reaches under his covers and starts making the all-too-familiar hand motion just as his bedroom door opens and his dad looks in at him.

“What are you-...” he stops dead in his tracks, Steve stops as well, his face heating.

Dear god this better be worth it.

Steve watches Dustin drumming his fingers on his leg for as long as he can before finally reaching out to switch the tv off, turning to look him in the eyes.

“Nervous?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m not nervous,” Dustin starts to say and then winces at his own reflexive lie, “Of course I’m nervous, it’s Suzie. I haven’t seen her in person in years. Years, Steve. I don’t know what I’m gonna say when she gets here.”

“No, I know, I get it,” Steve says and shrugs, “It was the same for me and Nance, and, you know, Jonathan. So I get it.”

“Jonathan,” Dustin stresses his name, “Right, Jonathan.”

Steve tries to ignore him, “My-... my point is, I get it.”

Dustin looks back to the blank tv, hands in his lap, looking completely devastated and terrified, “What if she doesn’t like me anymore?”

Steve nearly laughs out loud, it’s a totally valid concern, but also not valid at all, “You two are thicker than thieves, you’ve been talking pretty much daily since you met, are you kidding? It’ll be okay, more than okay, I bet. There’s no way she’ll feel any differently, meeting you in person again.”

“What if she doesn’t like what I’ve become?”

“What you’ve become?” Steve asks, frowning, “What do you think you are, some kind of Gollum thing? You’re Dustin, dude - I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you haven’t changed a whole lot.”

“That’s what Suzie says,” Dustin mutters, like it’s the worst thing in the world, “But what if I have? What if… what if I’ve changed too much? We’ve been hanging out a lot, even Will and Mike keep pointing out that I act like you sometimes.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Dusty,” Steve tries to assure him, reaching out to touch his shoulder and offer him any kind of support he’s willing to take, “I’m not the worst person you could take after.”

“This is all your fault.”

Steve laughs, “Relax, man. It’s not that big of a deal. It’ll work out. You’re just freaking out for nothing. Trust me on this.”

Steve’s words don’t do a lot in the long run, unfortunately. Poor Dustin’s worried the entire time they sit there, all of the way up until Suzie finally arrives, and not a moment too soon. But the change is immediate. One second he’s panicking, and the next, well, they can’t keep their hands off of one another.

Steve closes the door after them and smiles as he pretends to be unphased after they’ve been lip-locked in a tongue battle to the death for nearly five minutes straight.

Suzie finally pulls back from Dustin and smiles when she sees Steve standing there awkwardly, hands on his hips, casually looking in a different direction to try and give them some kind of privacy or something, or at least the illusion of it.

“Hi, Steve,” she says in this sweet little tone like she didn’t just suck face with his best friend until neither of them had breath to spare.

“Suzie,” he says back cordially, lifting a hand to wave, “Nice to finally meet you, put a face to the voice.”

Suzie only blushes then, looking to Dustin, “Can we… is there a place we can be alone?”

Ah, there it is.

Dustin looks hopefully towards Steve.

The guest room’s still being remodeled and Steve does not want them banging on his bed. Too many virginities have been lost on that mattress and he isn’t about to include his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend. Not to mention that it’s way too close to his parent’s bedroom, and they’re both sleeping. And Dustin and Suzie can’t exactly have their alone time out here in the living room either.

But…

“Sure, show her the cellar,” Steve says and shrugs.

“The cellar?” Suzie makes a face as Dustin’s eyes light up like the dawn.

“Seriously?”

Steve nods, “Yeah, totally,” he motions to the door for the downstairs level, “Just, you know, wrap it up and all that. Be safe, be smart.”

“Steve!”

“Reach out on the walkie if you need anything,” Steve says and waves them off, watching Dustin take her down to the cellar as he heads up for bed. He’s had to take a few girls down there in the past, himself, but it’s been a while. She’s probably thinking it’s just a bunch of shelves of wine, and boy is she in for a pleasant surprise.

Steve changes into his sleep clothes and climbs into bed, pulling up the covers and glancing over to the walkie on his nightstand. Hopefully they won’t need him, hopefully it’ll go smoothly.

Smoothly… might be an understatement.

As he’s laying there, starting to drift, he can hear them. Hear them. Hear her.

Steve sits up, looking towards his bedroom door and then downward as a feeling of dread settles in his stomach. God, she’s going to wake his parents up, there’s no way in hell they won’t hear that and immediately go looking. And walk in on two of his favorite people, literally having what should be a beautiful, private moment together.

But there’s nowhere in this house that would cover up those sounds. He’s never been able to make a peep without waking them himself. It’s taken years to perfect that kind of silence.

He hears the bed shift in his parents bedroom and knows that he needs to spring into action now, or they’ll be caught out. So he climbs quickly and quietly out of his bed as he tries to think of what he can do to help muffle the sounds, moving to the tapes stuffed in his bottom drawer.

Steve pulls one out and winces as he shoves it into the VCR, turning it up a few notches higher than he would ever dare, and then a couple more.

The woman moaning on the screen helps to cover Suzie’s sounds coming from the cellar below just enough that they shouldn’t question it, and Steve creeps back to the bed on the tips of his toes.

He climbs in, nervously looking at the screen and then away.

Bullet dodged, he thinks… and then he hears the bedroom door to his parent’s room open.

Steve swallows, looking around in a blind panic, and then he reaches under his covers and starts making the all-too-familiar hand motion just as his bedroom door opens and his dad looks in at him.

“What are you-...” he stops dead in his tracks, Steve stops as well, his face heating.

Dear god this better be worth it.

Steve doesn’t stop the tape, even when his dad looks at the screen, then looks back to him, and then back to the screen, “Are you watching porn in the middle of the night?”

He lifts his brows, face probably as red as a tomato, “Uh… yeah?”

His dad stares back at him and shakes his head, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Steve shrugs wordlessly, heart racing.

“Well, your mom and I are trying to sleep,” his dad says, glaring at him, “It’s one in the morning, turn this shit down. I don’t wanna have to come in here again.”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says, turning it lower. Or, he starts to, but then he can hear Suzie’s sounds from the cellar, so he turns it right back up, his dad looking at him with eyes widening in realization.

There’s a beat between them where they just stare at one another, and Steve hopes, prays, wishes his dad hadn’t heard that. But god he definitely did. There’s no way he doesn’t know. Not just because of the sounds, but because Steve hasn’t been caught dead watching porn since the first time when he was like… twelve. He’s not an idiot.

“Where’s your friend?” his dad asks then, eyes narrowing, “Doesn’t he normally sleep up here with you?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice cracking at the end.

Shit, they’re dead meat.

His dad crosses his hands over his chest, watching Steve for a moment, “Do you have something you wanna tell me?”

“No.”

Steve shakes his head after, maybe too much, but his dad finally drops his stance and motions to the tv.

“Stop watching porn, people are trying to sleep.”

“Yeah, dad,” Steve says, waiting for the door to close before he can unclench his whole body and he looks back to the tv, visibly shaking at this point.

He lowers the volume slowly, listening out for Dustin or Suzie, but hearing nothing, which hopefully means they’re done. Two virgins? Yeah, no way that’s lasting more than a couple of minutes anyway. Steve’s going to have hell to pay for all of this tomorrow, but hopefully they had a good time.

Still worth it.

#July Break Bingo #July Break Bingo 2022 #Stranger Things #STFic #Stranger Things Fic #Fandom: Stranger Things #Ship: Dustin x Suzie #but that's like a backseat ship #this fic isn't ship focused #Mine #My Fics

[cescalr]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & The Party, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Eddie Munson & The Party, Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson & Everyone Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Wayne Munson, Nancy Wheeler Additional Tags: Past Character Death, Past Violence, Dead Eddie Munson, Post-Episode: s04e09 The Piggyback (Stranger Things), Introspection, Grief/Mourning, Friendship/Love, Developing Friendships, Not Beta Read Series: Part 3 of One Shots & One Shot Collections (non-prompted.) Summary:

Three days after the gates opened, Steve reflects.

#st #stfic #myfic #steve h #robin b #forgot to share I posted something again lol

[tenderforgs]

writer’s block has been pretty much nonexistent ever since i started writing stfic because now, whenever i get stuck in a wip i just open a google doc and write some vague introspective passage about will byers and then it’s all smooth sailing from there

#thank you will byers

[biillyhargroves]

“im so tired.” “then sleep.” “I can’t. that’s when they come.” + harringrove (please and thank you!)

do you have room for one more troubled soul?(fic requests open)part ii: you’re a canary, i’m a coal minepart iii: too tired to be fighting

Billy hasn’t said a word all day. 

This is not strange, exactly. He gets surly-quiet. He snarls and scowls, he gets gruff and moody, he bites out one-word answers and stinging sarcastic quips. But this is different. He isn’t angry. He doesn’t look mad. He isn’t being mean. This isn’t some sour mood that a long drive will fix. Steve knows this. He knows because he can see the deep, dark circles bruised beneath Billy’s eyes. He knows because Billy has spent every class period starting blankly at the board and didn’t. have a single word to say when Mrs. Click tried to call him out (”Mr. Hargrove, what are your thoughts?”, and Billy had just stared at her, unblinking and unfazed by every follow-up question - “What does Gilman say about powerlessness? Mr. Hargrove? How about the pattern on the wall? Does that mean anything to you, Mr. Hargrove?” - until she finally kicked him out of the classroom with a stern look and a pointed finger; Billy gathered up his things and slinked away, not seeming to hear the whispers that simmered in his wake). 

Steve can’t find him after school. He isn’t in the locker rooms or on the basketball court, and when Steve finally wanders into the parking lot he sees Max with her back against the Camaro, her skateboard at her feet and her arms crossed.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks.

“Billy’s not with you?” she asks. Steve glances around him as if searching for Billy, holding out his hands to show the utter absence of her brother in their midst. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“Whatever,” Max shrugs. “I was just gonna tell him I’m going to Mike’s anyway.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Friday. Campaign night.”

“Weird that you know that,” Max says. “Can you tell Billy? Tell him to pick me up at ten?”

“Nine,” Steve says, flinching internally at how incredibly mom-like it makes him sound. He holds up his hand to stop her from commenting on it. “I heard it. I’m sorry. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Max says. She kicks off on her board and begins to roll away.

“Wait,” Steve calls, and Max drops one foot to the ground. “Is he okay? Billy?”

At this, Max turns around, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He just seems…I don’t know, out of it. I know you two don’t exactly, like, talk, but,” Steve trails off, and his gaze falls to his feet. He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “Forget it. Forget I asked. I’ll tell him to get you tonight, okay?”

But Max doesn’t leave, and it’s at least a minute before she speaks again. “He’s been going out at night. Going for, like, drives or something. I don’t really know. That’s all I got.”

“Every night?”

“Like I said,” Max tells him, “that’s all I know.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, okay. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Max shrugs. She skates away and this time Steves lets her. He stands there, alone in the parking lot, scanning the now thinning stream of students trickling from the building, trying to spot Billy in the mix. Almost everyone is gone by the time Billy emerges, looking almost drunk as he stumbles from the school pinching the bridge of his nose. Carol tries approach him and he barely notices her hand on his shoulder. Steve’s heart lodges in his throat and he walks toward them with long strides.

“Everything okay here?” Steve asks when he’s close enough.

“You tell me,” Carol says, scowling as she looks Billy up and down. It’s clear that he hasn’t even looked at her - his primary offense against her. Steve’s hands hover over Billy’s back, not quite touching him but ready to catch him should he fall. Carol has removed her hand, her fingers curled like she’s touched something disgusting. “Good luck with that,” she says, and she walks off in a huff. 

“Hey,” Steve says, speaking softly even though he’s sure Carol is out of earshot. “Billy?”

Billy doesn’t look at him, but his head does jerk slightly toward Steve, and Steve finally lets a hand fall on Billy’s back. 

“Come on,” Steve says. “I’m gonna take you to my place.” He starts to move, but Billy doesn’t budge. He’s like a stone. Steve tries to guide him, but he won’t move, rooted like a tree where he stands. “No one’s there, I promise. And Max went to Mike’s. It’s okay.” This time, Billy does look at him, and he blinks slowly as if seeing Steve for the first time. “Okay?” Steve asks. Billy nods his head, and he lets Steve lead him to the car. 

Now they are the Harrington house, and Billy is cross-legged on Steve’s bed, and he hasn’t said a word in hours. Steve has tried to coax something out of him. He’s told him about Max, and that she wanted him to get her at ten. He asked if he was okay after Click’s class, and if he understood The Yellow Wallpaper. He asked if Billy wanted him to turn on some music, and when Billy continued to stay silent, Steve turned on the radio and let it play. Eventually, Billy reaches to shut off the radio.

“Don’t like that song?” Steve asks, and Billy shakes his head and points to his temple. A headache, from the static, or perhaps from… “You sick, man?” Billy does not shake his head at this, but he gives no other form of answer either. “You’re gonna have to talk eventually.”

“Sorry,” Billy says, voice flat and gravelly. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you sleeping?” Steve asks. “Max said you’ve been going out at night.”

“You talked to my sister?”

“I just asked if you were okay,” Steve says. “I was worried.”

“I’m touched,” Billy says. He is leaning his back against the headboard, his head leaned back against the wall, and his eyes are closed, though Steve can tell by his breathing that Billy is very much awake. 

“So?” Steve asks. When Billy doesn’t answer, Steve says, “You should sleep. Crash here for a while. I can grab Max for you.:“No,” Billy says.

“No?” 

“No,” Billy repeats. “I can’t.”

“I can raid the medicine cabinet,” Steve offers. “I think my mom has something that-”

“I can’t sleep,” Billy says, “because that’s when they come.”

It takes some time for Steve to process Billy’s words. He stares at him, blinking rapidly, wondering if he even heard him correctly. Billy makes no move to backtrack or to correct his words. He sits in the spot, in the same manor, awake but unspeaking, unmoving, eyes closed and face drawn in utter exhaustion. The more Steve looks at him the more he can see the effects- the lines around Billy’s mouth, the wrinkles in the shirt he’s worn for the past three days, he dullness of his skin. 

“They?” Steve finally asks. When Billy says nothing, he presses, “Who’s they?”

“Forget it,” Billy mumbles. But Steve sits across from him and he places a gentle hand on Billy’s knee. The touch makes Billy’s eyes slip open, and he blinks until he can focus on Steve’s face. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asks him.

“It’s nothing,” Billy says.

“It’s not nothing,” Steve insists. “You said you can’t sleep because that’s when they come. That’s some horror movie bullshit, Hargrove. And, honestly, you look like an extra in that dumb Romero zombie shit the kids watch. So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” Billy repeats. “It…it’ll go away. It’s just…never been this bad.”

“What’s never been this bad?”

“It’s stupid.” Billy shrugs.

“It’s not,” Steve says. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Shut up,” Billy says.

“Come on,” Steve says. “You can tell me.”

“It’s these, like…” Billy sighs, and he stares up at the ceiling. “They’re not nightmares, really. They’re something else. My mom called it something. It’s happened ever since I was a kid.”

“Like…night terrors?”

“Sort of,” Billy says. “I see stuff. And I’m not fucking crazy, okay?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Steve says.

“It’s just,” Billy stammers. “It’s like…I’m stuck. Like, I’m awake, but I’m stuck in a dream, and I know it’s a dream, but I can’t make it stop. It feels real.”

“That’s where they come?” Steve says.

“Yeah.”

“What are they?”

“I don’t know,” Billy says. He sounds like a child, frustrated and on the verge of tears. He sighs heavily and looks back at Steve. “I’m not crazy.”

“I know,” Steve says. 

“It hasn’t happened in a long time,” Billy says. “But after, uh…after Max…”

“Hit you with a sedative to stop you from killing me?” Billy opens his mouth to defend himself, or to apologize, or some combination of the two, and Steve shakes his head and waves you off. “Come on. I got over that months ago. No hard feelings. You know that.”

“Right,” Billy says. “Well, uh, after that, I just…”

“It’s been that long?”

“On and off,” Billy shrugs. “I go for drives after. Uh, to clear my head.”

“That’s where you’ve been going?” Steve asks. “When Max hears you leave?” Billy’s silence is answer enough. Steve sighs and he squeezes Billy’s thigh. “What are they?” Steve asks. “Whatever it is you see.”

“I don’t know,” Billy shrugs. “They used to be, like…these men. Tall. Big. They kind of, um…kind of looked my dad, but I couldn’t really see their faces or anything. They’re different now, though. They look different.”

“Different how?”

“They’re something else,” Billy says. “They’re not human. They’re like these weird fucking alien things. They don’t have any faces, and some of them walk on all fours, and they-”

“They what?” Billy asks. “Do they do anything to you?”

“The old ones,” Billy starts, “used to just…hold me down. But these ones…they make the whole room cold. And their heads, like…” He trails off, and he shakes his head, and his tone suddenly turns angry. “Forget it, okay? It’s just these stupid fucking dreams.”

“No,” Steve says. “No, tell me.”

“Let it go, Steve.” Steve sighs, but he hear suppressed tears in Billy’s voice and he can see the bone-weary exhaustion pulling at every inch of him. Steve rubs Billy’s leg, and he moves to Billy’s side so that he can slide an arm around Billy’s shoulders. “What if we go for a drive?” he offers. It takes a bit of convincing to get Billy to agree, but Steve’s hope for the drive prevails: within a few miles, Billy is asleep with his head against the window. Steve keeps on hand on Billy’s shoulder and when Billy lets out a distressed whine, Steve squeezes him. 

“It’s okay,” Steve tells him. “You’re safe.”

And Billy seems to hear this; he even seems to believe it. He settles down, face relaxed in sleep once more, and he stays like that as Steve drives loops around the town and beyond, stays fast asleep as Steve begins to wind through neighbors, is still out cold when Steve pulls up outside of the Wheeler house.

It is nine o’clock on the dot, and when Karen Wheeler calls Max to the door, Max seems less than pleased to be summoned. The others trail up behind her to say their goodnights, all of them surprised to see Steve instead of Billy waiting to collect her. Max’s brow creases and she leans out the open doorway to see Steve’s car at the curb, Billy asleep inside.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asks.

Steve looks at each of the kids in turn before saying, “I think we have a problem.”

#harringrove #harringrove fanfiction #harringrove fanfic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stfic #stranger things fanfic #lex writes fics #wndasmaximoffs #answered #in which billy's sleep paralysis demons might be real :)

[jopperfix]

Create a blog, they said...

Just the fictions here, and likely some inspiring images, and although this is a jopper blog, it’s likely to lean toward more Hop, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. 

#jopper #jim hopper #joyce byers #STfic #jopper fic

[thefreakandthehair]

piece of cake

written for ‘cake’ wc: 311 | rated: g | cw: none @steddiemicrofic

June 25th, 1989

“Why’s no one moving? Is this part of the metal show experience?” Steve groans, one hand resting on the bottom of the wheel and the other raking roughly through his hair.

“Nope, this is the by-product of people not knowing how to fucking drive.” Eddie sighs and shakes his head, the bun he’s tied his frizzy hair into sliding to one side.

Their ears ring and their necks begin to ache as the post-concert euphoria fades after waiting in a non-moving line of traffic for forty-five minutes. It’s unsurprising given all that their bodies have been through, but Eddie will be damned if he lets the Upside Down take headbanging from him.

Steve had joined in with him, of course, wanting to give Eddie the full experience after missing them the last time they were around in 1986 but fun as it was, he’s paying for it already. All he wants to do is get home from Fort Wayne, lay down in the shower, and will the headache away. Cars inch forward, slow and tedious, but it’s movement all the same. Just as they approach the end of the aisle, a lifted pick-up truck tries to squeeze out ahead of them.

“Oh you mother– I’m getting us out of here, Ed. Watch this,” Steve grits out, placing his hand on Eddie’s chest.

“What are you–”

“Hey! Hey, asshole!” Steve yells out Eddie’s passenger window. He points a finger furiously and looks the driver straight-on with the confidence of a man who’s fought monsters and won. “Not today. Wait your fucking turn.”

Without another word, Steve inches forward and breaks free of the aisle.

“Dude, are you insane? What was that?” Eddie asks, wide-eyed and unbearably turned on.

Steve turns to wink at his boyfriend whose cheeks are flushed from more than the summer heat.

“See? Piece of cake.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie microfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #stfic #myfic #myblurbs #this is absolutely not inspired by my fiance doing this exact thing getting us out of the parking lot at fob last weekend lmao

[juiceinpanties]

A Proper S'more, pt 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): E

Words: ~5.5k

Tags: smut!, humping, nipple play, semi-public sexual activity, drug use (just some pot), flirting through food, friends to lovers, established friendship, oral (both), dirty talk, rough sex, LOTS of kissing, fingering, ass play, a bit of come play, unwrapped penetrative sex, subbie!Eddie, but also not-as-subbie Eddie, praise kink (him), reader likes to be called dirty names

Summary: Your best friend Eddie Munson invites you camping, and while you're reluctant at first, you realize this might be just the chance you need to finally show him how you feel.

Notes: I was rage-inspired by the TERRIBLE take on s'mores they recently featured on Great British Bake-Off. Pretty sure this is the first time the British have inspired hot, sexy smut. Thanks as always to @tonybourdain for her invaluable help as beta, idea bouncer-off-ofer, and just all around wonderful and amazing human.

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog if you can! It's how posts spread around here; likes are appreciated, but they do nothing to boost interaction. :)

part 1 | part 2

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

Later that night you're all cleaning up dinner mess and stashing everything in bear-safe containers when Eddie sidles your way and smiles a little. "Hey."

"Hi," you say. "I heard Dustin tell Mike you peed your pants."

He rolls his eyes. "That little shit. He makes Dennis the Menace look angelic. Don't worry; I'll get him back in the next campaign and he knows it."

You can't help but giggle at the random shit that comes out of Eddie's mouth sometimes. "Sorry about that," you say.

"Don't worry about it. Worth it." He grins at you, his dark eyes big and bright even in the low light. "Way worth it." He clears his throat and tucks his thumbs into his back pockets before changing his mind and playing with a lock of hair instead.

"Do you want to—maybe, if you’re into it, no pressure—meet up later?" he mumbles.

"Like when later?"

He drags the bit of hair over his mouth. "Umm...maybe after everyone's gone to bed? Meet up here, then...go somewhere else?"

"Yeah, Grove. I'd like that." You lean in and lower your voice. "I wasn't done with you."

His cheeks turn pink and he fights a grin. "I wasn't done with you either, princess."

"Good," you say. "Later, then."

"Uh huh. Later." He stumbles a little as he prances away, but he rights himself and offers a wave to let you know he's okay. Jesus he's so cute. Bambi on ice like 80% of the time, at least.

You and Nancy are sharing a tent, but you know she wants to sneak off to Steve and Eddie's tent...and you want to sneak off with Eddie, so really it all works out. She gives you a knowing grin as you don't bother taking off your boots when you crawl inside.

"Meeting Eddie later?" she whispers.

You blush and fiddle with your boot laces. "Mhmm. We sort of got interrupted earlier."

"Uh huh, Steve mentioned that. Just be careful, okay? You don't want to get lost out there."

You nod. "Eddie seems like he knows these woods pretty well, and there's always Boy Scout Steve if we get too turned around."

"I think the kids are pretty much asleep if you want to go now," she says. "Don't forget the flashlight."

You grab it and crawl out. "Thanks, Nance," you whisper as she zips the flaps shut behind you.

The fire is banked for the night, but there's a nearly full moon, so you're able to make it to the picnic table without much trouble. You sit on the bench to wait, and before long Eddie appears. He smiles and presses a finger to his lips, then takes your hand to lead you into the woods.

He has a battery-powered lantern, but he keeps it off until you're far enough away it won't be noticed. He stops every now and then to tie bright orange streamers to trees. You poke his arm and point at one with a questioning gesture.

"Steve," he whispers. "Good ol' Boy Scout Steve. He gave them to me so we wouldn't get lost."

"What a thoughtful boy," you say.

"Uh huh."

You hike for a bit longer, until you reach a clearing bright from the full moon. He grins over his shoulder at you and spreads out the blanket he brought. "Wanna sit?" he says.

You drop down next to him with a smile. "So," you say. "What's on your mind tonight, Munson?"

"Hm?" He looks up from where he's fiddling with the lantern and quickly looks away again. "Oh, you know. Nothing. Just, uh. Just thought we could come hang out. You know, away from all the...everybody."

He clears his throat and settles down on the blanket, but he has his lighter in one hand and is flipping it over and over. He won't look at you.

"Grove?" you say, nudging him a little. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yep, sure, everything's—everything's great. Um." He pushes to his feet and wanders away. Being so close to you is making his brain scramble. You smell so good, wood smoke and sweetness, and you're so warm and soft. There's a fire burning low in his belly, and every time he looks at you it just gets hotter.

"A little chilly out here, huh? Shoulda brought another blanket. Shit. Don't want you to be cold. We could go back if you—oh. Hi."

You've moved to stand in front of him, and with his nervous pacing he didn't hear you. You take his hand in yours and lead him back to the blanket. "Let's just sit," you say. "We don't have to do anything. It's just us, Grover. You and me, same as always."

"Riiiight," he says, doubtfully. "Except I've had my mouth on your nipples now."

"True. Does that make things different?"

"Um." He rubs a hand over his lips and his eyes dart down to your chest, then back up to your face. "Maybe a little. But only because I wanna do it again."

You smile. "I'd like you to do it again. But it can wait. Hey, do you still have that baggie?"

"Ohhh yeah good call." He fishes the baggie out of his pocket and grabs one of the joints. "Too bad we didn't bring any marshmallows."

"I think we'll live. If I get the munchies I'll just nibble on you."

Even in the low light you can see how his cheeks flush at that. He ducks his head to light the joint and takes a slow, deep drag before passing it to you. "Have you always been this evil?" he says on the exhale.

You shrug and take a pull. "Probably. I just keep it hidden most of the time."

He settles down with one knee pulled up, his arm draped over it. You lean against his other side and tangle your free arm with his.

"I kinda like it," he says after a contemplative silence. "I like..." He cuts his eyes your way, then back out toward the trees. He shifts his ass a little. "I like...hanging out with you."

"Mmm," you say. "I like hanging out with you too." You finish off the joint and pass him the roach to store away, then rest your head on his shoulder. Your voice softens. "I like what happened earlier."

He tucks the Sucrets tin away. "I liked it too." He's quiet, fiddling with the laces on his boots before he undoes them and sets them aside. When he comes back he lets his hand wander until his arm is around you and you're pressed against his chest. His eyes are on the stars as he wrestles with what to say. He wants you to know how much you mean to him, how much he cares about you.

He clears his throat and turns his head to press a soft kiss to the top of your head and take a deep breath of your sweet scent.

"I just, um—I don't want you to think that I—that that's all I want now. Just, you know. Dirty stuff."

You tilt your chin back to look at him, then kiss his jaw. "I know you don't. I don't either. But I'll tell you a secret."

"Hmm?" he says, angling his head so he can see your face.

You grin at him. "I like the dirty stuff," you whisper.

His mouth curves in a bashful grin. "Yeah?" He runs his finger over your lips. "You mean with me, or in general?"

You catch his finger between your teeth and swirl your tongue around it. His breath catches and his eyes go wide. "With you," you murmur. "Just you, Grove."

"Fuck," he says on a rough exhale. His hand buries itself in your hair and he drags you up to kiss you. You respond with a little whimper, kissing him back desperately, and he slowly pushes you back onto the blanket.

"Want you, princess," he breathes between hot, hungry kisses. "Wanna take such good care of you. Make you feel so good."

"Mmmm it's my turn!" you say. You push at his shoulder until he rolls over, and you pounce on top of him. He lets out a surprised, breathless laugh that turns to a quiet moan when you bite the spot where the pulse pounds in his neck. You swirl your tongue against the spot and reach down to tug at his shirt.

His back arches enough to get it off, and then you're working your way down, kissing and biting and sucking. "Marks?" you ask.

He gives a quick, desperate nod. "Please! Mark me all up, baby!" He wants to be marked, wants to look in the mirror tomorrow and see you all over him. He wants to remember how hungry you were for him, how you wanted him as much as he wants you.

You smirk and do as he's begging. You bite harder. Suck longer. You kiss and lick every mark you leave, and soon you've made your way down to his soft tummy and the delicate line that leads down from his bellybutton.

"Can I take these off?" you say as you hook your finger in the waistband of his jeans.

He swallows. His heart is pounding so hard he can barely think. "Yeah, babe. Please."

You undo the button, then slowly unzip them before tugging them down to his ankles. You sit back on your knees to study him: shirt off, jeans around his ankles, cock big in his blue boxers.

"Such a slutty boy," you say with a little grin. You run your fingers along his erection. "Is this for me?"

He whimpers, hips bucking a little. "Yeah, fuck, all yours!"

"Mmmmm." You lean down to bite his tummy and pull his boxers off. His cock springs free and you lick your lips at the sight of it: thick and hard and so pink, even in the low light. "So pretty," you murmur. You wrap your hand around it and rub your thumb across the head. "Of course such a pretty boy has a pretty cock."

"You think—you think I'm pretty?"

You look up at him with his big eyes, flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips. "I think you're the prettiest boy I've ever seen," you say. You kiss the tip of his cock and suck it into your mouth.

He makes a rough, high-pitched noise and grips the blanket for dear life. "Fuck, babe! Please!"

"Please what, baby boy? Use your words."

He whines through clenched teeth. "Need your mouth, princess! Suck my cock, please!"

You shiver and clench your thighs together at the rush of wet heat in your cunt. "Gonna, sweet boy. You sound so pretty begging like that." You suck him into your mouth, deep, and he groans.

You wanted to tease him, make this really last, but you're so goddamn wet and your pussy is throbbing so hard you don't have the patience. Instead you suck him like your life depends on it, rough and sloppy and hungry.

He loves every second of it. "Fuck, princess, oh fuck! Fuckin A don't stop, don't stop, just like that!!"

Your head bobs as his cock fills your mouth, the flared head presses into your throat. You gag, pull out, and repeat. Drool drips down his shaft and onto his balls, and you wrap one hand around the base and the other around his sack. You squeeze, just a little, and at the noise he makes you do it again.

You pop off and smirk at him, at his flushed cheeks and messy hair and slack mouth. "Dirty boy. Look at this hard, leaky cock! I bet you want to come, don't you?"

He makes an incoherent, wrecked noise and manages to nod, then shakes his head. "Whatever you want, baby! I'm yours. Cock's yours!"

"Mmmm." You lick your swollen lips. "That's right. What a good boy." You stroke him slowly, enjoying the thick, hot feel of him in your hand. Your thumb rubs along the underside, presses against the spot where the shaft meets the head, then strokes over the pink tip. You swirl it through the pre-come gathered there, then bring your thumb to your mouth to lick it clean.

He watches you with a dazed expression, then his head falls back on a groan. "Please! Need more, fuck, please!"

"Since you asked so nicely," you say and dip your head to flick your tongue against him. He twitches, so you do it again. You're still stroking his shaft and playing with his balls, and now when you suck him into your mouth his hips stutter and jerk and you almost choke on him.

"Fuck! Fuck, baby, sorry!" he gasps.

You shake your head to tell him it's okay and keep going. As you suck you press your thumb against his perineum and stroke in firm, steady circles. That takes him to the next level.

"Gonna come, princess, fuck fuck that's so fuckin' good so—goddamn—FUCK!" He lets out a long, ragged moan and his come fills your mouth, hot and thick and salty. You swallow as much as you can in eager gulps, but a bit dribbles out onto your chin.

You keep lathing him with your tongue until he's a twitching, whimpering mess and he tries to stop you. "Too much! Gotta—fuck!"

You ignore him and don't let up. Your tongue is soft and wet against his too-sensitive cockhead and he thinks he might die. Words are beyond him; he's making the most desperate little whimpering sounds you've ever heard, and it's making you crazy.

"F—f—uuu—ck!" he chokes out. "Baaaaaby!!"

Finally you take pity and grin up at him. At the sight of you with your red, swollen lips and his come on your mouth he groans and drags you up to him. He kisses you hungrily, sucking and slurping every drop of himself off your mouth even as his tongue plunges in and out and tangles with yours.

You both moan and he rolls you over so that he's on top of you. The kisses don't stop, but somehow get hotter and deeper.

"That was so fuckin' good, angel," he rasps. "Fuck! Didn't know it could be that good! You're fuckin' incredible!"

"Taste so good, Eddie!" you say. "Coulda sucked your cock all night!"

He chokes out a laugh. "That probably woulda killed me."

You giggle and kiss him again. "Good thing I stopped then."

"Uh huh, because I gotta get my mouth on this cunt." He presses his hand between your thighs, then pulls it away with a dismayed look at his rings. "Hang on," he says.

You grab his hand with a mischievous smirk. Your eyes steady on his, you suck his finger into your mouth and wrap your lips around the ring. You slowly drag it off, then do it again for the other two.

He's staring at you with stars in his eyes. "Holy shit!" he breathes. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

You giggle and hand him the rings. "A little party trick, I guess," you say.

"Excellent trick. Remind me to attend more parties if you're gonna be there."

"You hate parties," you murmur as you tug him back down to you.

"I could learn to like 'em if you're gonna be suckin' my fingers," he says with a grin. He pulls your shirt up and over your head, then kisses his way down to your tits. Like earlier he spends ages on them: licking and sucking your nipples. Biting a little. Tugging them with his teeth. He kneads your tits with both hands and lathes his tongue back and forth over each sensitive bud until you're writhing under him.

"Eddie, please! My pussy!"

He gives a rough, hungry groan and finally moves on to kiss and bite his way down your tummy. He bites the pudge below your bellybutton. Sucks and laps his tongue over your soft skin.

He undoes your shorts and you lift your hips so he can tug them and your panties down together, and you kick the clothes away. He sits up and swallows hard. "You're so fuckin' pretty, baby girl," he says in an awestruck voice.

Your skin seems to glow in the moonlight, your nipples dark and swollen like ripe cherries. Between your thighs he can just make out the crisp whorl of hair on your mound and the way your puffy lips glisten when you squirm under his gaze.

"Is this for me?" he murmurs, his palm coming to rest against your pussy. "This sweet thing's all for me?"

"All for you, Eddie," you gasp. "Please don't tease me! God I need to come!"

"Greedy little thing," he says. "Guess it's your turn to beg, huh?" He drags a fingertip up and down your slit and you can't stop the needy little noises that fall from your lips.

"Please!" you whine. "Need your mouth, baby boy!"

He groans and ducks his head to kiss you before falling between your thighs. He kisses the inside of your knee then spreads you wide. Bites the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and sucks until you hiss.

"Can I leave a mark, princess?"

"Uh huh! Where no one'll see."

"Mmmm. Mine," he murmurs and sucks several big, dark marks. You squirm and writhe and whine, undone before he's even touched your cunt.

"And this is mine too," he says about the cunt in question. He kisses your labia. Drags his tongue up and down, then licks his lips as he savors the taste of you. "Goddamn you taste good, princess!"

"More, please!" you gasp.

He grunts and tugs your legs over his shoulders so he can really bury his face in you. He spreads you and licks every inch of you. Dips his tongue inside and swirls. Flicks up to your clit and then stops just before touching it.

"Hmmm. What's this?" he says. "A strawberry, all fat and pretty and ripe just for me?"

"Uh huh! Tastes good, too!"

He smirks and wraps his lips around it to suck. Your hips come up off the blanket with a little cry, but he holds you steady and still. "Can you be good, baby? I'll tell you when you can move."

You bite your lip. Where did that whiny, begging little boy go? Eventually you manage a nod. "I can be good," you say. "I'll be still."

"Good girl." He presses his mouth against you again and lathes his tongue back and forth across your ridiculously sensitive clit. You moan his name and grip the blanket and your thighs and belly are tense as you resist the urge to rock against his face.

His hands slide up your body to squeeze your tits, pinch your nipples. You can't help it: you writhe under him, whimpering his name, but he doesn't let up or make you stop. He's making the hungriest noises you've ever heard as he slurps and sucks at your clit. You look down at him, his big eyes and flushed cheeks, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, fingers tight enough to leave marks on your tits.

"Eddie oh god!" you gasp. "Eddie, please, please! Need fingers, baby!"

"Not yet," he mumbles and goes back to sucking. You taste so fucking good and you're so responsive and desperate! His cock is fully hard all over again, aching and throbbing, and he ruts against the blanket in wanton desperation.

"Fuck fuck oh fuck!" you whimper. "That's so good, fuck!!"

"You can move, baby. Fuck my face."

"Eddie!!" you cry. Your hips buck; you grab a handful of his hair to hold him tight against you; your thighs grip his head and he tugs and twists your nipples.

"Please!" you breathe. "Oh god please!" You're so close you can taste it, your tummy tightening and clenching as the orgasm closes in. He knows it too, and he doesn't let up. His tongue pulses and lashes against your clit and that's it, you can't take it anymore. You grind against his face and bite down on your free hand to muffle your scream of pleasure as the wave breaks over you.

He groans and laps up the rush of wetness and before you can catch your breath he's sinking his middle two fingers into you, deep, and you let out a soft cry.

"Eddie!"

"You asked for fingers, princess," he says, his voice rough. "I live to serve."

He leans up to kiss you, letting you suck your orgasm off his swollen lips. "You want another one, greedy girl?"

"Uh huh!" you gasp with a desperate nod. "Please!"

He groans and kisses you again. "Knew you'd be so good, baby. Knew you were my goddamn dream girl."

You push your fingers through his hair, shoving it away from his sweaty face, and bite and nip at his jaw. His neck. You suck his earlobe into your mouth and he whimpers your name.

He works you with his sensitive fingers, curling and flexing them until he finds the spot that makes you whine against his ear. "There, princess?"

"Right there!"

He kisses you hard and starts to fingerfuck you rough and fast. He twists them. Scissors them open and closed. You squeeze around him and the sloppy, filthy sounds your cunt is making drive you both wild. His face is set and intense, his dark eyes steady on yours with a line between his brows and his full mouth thinned in concentration. You're all he can see, his entire universe, and neither of you wants the feeling to end.

"Oh god!" you whine. "Oh god, Eddie, that's—oh fuck please!!"

"Come for me, baby girl," he croons. He kisses you and nips at your lip. "Make a mess for me. Take what you need, princess. Whatever you need."

You grip his hair with one hand and the blanket with the other as you buck up onto his fingers. He moves with you, setting a harsh, driving rhythm that makes you want to scream. When he twists his hand and his thumb finds your clit that's it, you're gone. You yank his hair and moan his name and clench around his fingers so tight he hisses.

He watches you as the orgasm grips your body, the way your chest heaves and your tummy ripples and clenches. Your thighs are shaking and there are tears running down your cheeks. He kisses them away so gently, his lips soft and sweet on your heated cheeks.

Eddie eases his dripping hand from your cunt and grins at you. "You did make a mess, princess. You squirted for me. What a good girl!"

You shudder and nod. "That—happens—sometimes. But never with someone else," you say through deep, panting breaths.

"Oof," he says, a rough exhale like you punched him. "That's so fuckin' hot. I'm honored, baby. Thank you."

You giggle and sit up enough to wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze. "You did it, silly. I'm the one who should be thanking you."

He hisses and carefully removes your fingers from his dick. "Stop that. Bad girl. I have plans for that."

"Oh do you? Care to share with the whole class?"

"Uh huh, I will. First..." He grabs his pack and hands you the bottle of water from inside it.

"Ooo, smart boy." You take several long, thirsty gulps before handing it back so he can do the same.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins at you, the really big one that crinkles up his whole face, and you can't help but grin back. You murmur his name and pull him close for soft, easy kisses, and he manages to get the lid back on the water bottle before he's on top of you again.

"Hang on, angel. Gotta—" He twists away just long enough to grab a condom from a pocket of his jacket, and then he's back to kiss up and down your neck.

"You brought condoms?"

He gives a sheepish shrug. "I always carry one with me. Just in case."

"Uh huh. Eddie 'The Stud' Munson."

"Ha. Yeah, that's me." He strokes his hands up and down your sides and you arch into it. "Tell me what you want, princess."

"I—fuck." You push at his shoulder so that he turns onto his back. "Like this," you say. "Got a taste for it earlier."

"Not gonna complain," he says. He squeezes your thighs and hands you the condom.

You study him a moment. "You know, I'm on the pill."

His eyes widen just a little. "Really?"

"Mhmm. I've always used a condom before."

"Me too," he says, swallowing hard. "Do you wanna—not?"

You lean down to kiss him. "I'd love to feel you come inside me," you murmur against his mouth.

He's pretty sure he's died and gone to Heaven, but somehow he manages to nod. "Yeah, princess. Whatever you want."

You smirk, toss the condom aside, and straddle him. "Ready, sweet boy?"

"God yeah! Please, baby!"

He holds himself steady for you and with long, filthy moan you sink down onto him. "Oh god!!" you whimper as he stretches you. You're absolutely dripping wet, but even after 2 orgasms you aren't used to taking something so big. You can feel the head snug inside you and it's incredible.

"Eddie!! Fuck!" you whimper. "Oh fuck you're so big!!"

"Baby girl!" he gasps. He cannot believe how good you feel, how hot and slick and just right. "Perfect little cunt, perfect little princess!" He smirks at you and squeezes your thighs again. "But not so perfect, huh? More like the perfect little slut."

Your eyes widen and your cunt clenches around him. "Say it again, baby."

He rocks up into you and you move against him. "Is that what you are, baby? My little slut? Perfect princess on the outside, hungry little whore on the inside?"

"Oh fuck!!" you cry, your head calling back. No one has ever talked to you like this before, and it's doing things to you. "Eddieeee!"

"Ride me, baby," he grunts. "Take that cock. It's all yours, sweetheart. Your cock."

You whimper and don't waste any more time. You brace your hands on his chest and grind down onto him. You wiggle until you get just the right angle, then lifts your hips and drop back down. You both hiss. He grips your hips, his fingers digging in so that the skin turns white around them, and soon you're fucking him in earnest, his big cock hitting you just right, your clit grinding between you in a way that makes you whine.

"Greedy girl," he breathes. "Fuck I love it! Love the way you take my cock, love how much you need it!"

"Gonna come, gonna—can't—oh my god!!" You can't believe you're coming again, fourth time tonight, and it's so fucking good, better each and every time. "Eddie!" you gasp. "God, Eddie!!"

He squeezes your ass, then carefully lifts you off of him. You're confused in your post-orgasmic haze, but you can see him smirking at you. "On your knees, princess. Down on your elbows."

You moan and do as you're told. "Don't hold back, Eddie," you breathe as he kneels behind you. "I can take it hard like this. I'll stop you if it's too much."

"Fuck," he says. He whispers your name and strokes a hand down your back. You feel the tip nudge your entrance, and then he's inside you, all one stroke that buries him to the hilt.

You cry out and push back against him. "Fuck me!" you whine. "Fuck me, baby, please!"

He's very glad he already came once or he'd be in trouble right now. As it is he can hold on enough to give you what you want. He pulls out and slams in again, the force of it rocking through you. You grip fistfuls of the blanket and beg for more, faster, like that, more!!

He fucks you deep and slow, no matter how much you beg for him to go faster. Your ass is so soft and round against him. He spreads it with both hands, then licks his fingertip and presses it against your hole.

"Eddie?" you whimper.

"Shhh, baby. I got you. Stop me if you don't want it." He drags his finger down to grab some of your wetness and pulls it up to your hole; over and over until you're slick all the way up.

"Don't stop!" you manage. He's deep inside you, rocking and grinding, and it's a maddening, delicious tease. "Fill me up, Eddie."

"Mmmm, you wanna be stuffed full, princess?"

"Uh huh! Please!"

He loves how wrecked and desperate and cock-drunk you sound. He sides his finger in and out of his mouth, getting it nice and slick, and slowly, carefully pushes it into your ass.

It hurts a little, a rough burn, but it's also good, so fucking good, and you rock back into him with a hungry whine. "Like that! Fuck, Eddie, like that!"

He draws more of your slick up until he can get his finger in to the second knuckle and he just holds it there as he fucks you. Harder. Faster. He grips your shoulder with his free hand for leverage and pulls you back with each thrust forward. He's grunting and gasping your name and you've never felt so full and used and delicious.

"Don't stop!" you gasp. "Oh fuck don't stop!!"

"Oh god oh fuck goddamn, princess, I can't—" He bites his lip hard, but it's no good. He's gonna come. You feel incredible, sound so good, are so desperate and needy for him still, after four orgasms, and he can't hang on. "Gonna—fuck!!"

He fills you in a hot, breathless rush, and you moan at the sensation. "Eddie!!"

He's groaning, his head thrown back, but when he hears your wrecked voice he realizes you didn't come again. He pulls out and stops the rush of your mingled come with his fingers. He draws some of it up to your ass so he can fuck you there while he fingers your cunt, and he twists his hand to press his thumb to your clit.

You whine, completely overwhelmed. "Eddie!" It's all you can manage: his name, like a mantra. Your brain is utterly gone, fucked out on the forest floor, and now he's got you stuffed full with three fingers in your aching cunt and another deep in your ass.

"One more, baby," he rasps. "I know you can do it. One more just for me."

"Can't!" you whimper. "Can't, Eddie, can't!"

"Yeah you can. Pretty little slut. Sweet little princess. Come for me. Look at you, takin' me like a goddamn pro. You love it. I know you do."

"I do!!" you say, your voice high and thready. "God fuck oh god!" After that you can't form words; it's all just sensation, pleasure and sharp, heady spikes of almost-pain, and soon you're giving him what he wants, another orgasm, and this one rings you out and leaves you boneless and spent and outside of yourself.

He whispers sweet, soothing words and carefully pulls out of you. Wipes one hand on his bandana, then gathers you against his chest. You look up at him, wide-eyed and stunned, and he kisses the tears off your cheeks again before sliding the fingers that had been in your cunt between your lips.

You moan at the mingled taste of the two of you and suck them clean.

"Good girl," he croons. "Fuck, you're such a good girl. That was insane, baby. Fucking incredible!" He replaces his fingers with his mouth and you kiss slow and easy as you ease back onto the blanket.

He wraps his arms around you and you snuggle into his chest. You still can't speak.

"Princess?" he murmurs against your hair. "You okay?"

You nod. Your fingers clench against him. "Yes. Yeah. Holy shit, Grove."

"Yeah," he says.

"That was..."

"Uh huh."

"Have you ever...?"

"Nope. Not like that. Have you?"

You shake your head. "Wow."

He grins and lifts his hand. "Yeah?"

You look up at him, face scrunched in confusion, but then comprehension dawns and you snort out a laugh. You tap your hand against his, too worn out to slap. "Yeah," you say. "You big fuckin' nerd."

"Emphasis on fuckin'," he says with a smirk.

You laugh again and roll away with a groan. "Oh god I hate you. Go away! You're fucking awful!!"

He cackles and drags you back against him. "You like it. You like me. You wanna have sex with me again. Don't lie, strawberry shortcake."

You give a drunken giggle and turn your head to bite his arm. "Yeah, doofus, I like you. And if I manage to ever walk again, I will definitely wanna have sex with you again."

"Whoop whoop! Calls for another one!" He lifts his hand again, and this time when you hit it you curl your fingers with his and lean in to kiss him.

"Dork," you murmur against his lips.

"Slut."

"Your slut."

"Uh huh. Your dork."

"Good," you breathe. "That's exactly what I want."

@briasnow-blog , @tayhar811

#eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #stfic #emfic #smores

[zolusbian]

2 Stranger Things Fics

1. The Time After the First Time jancy, porn with plot, ~6k words. The first time Nancy and Jonathan have sex after the gate closes and all the emotions and realizations that come along with it.

2. Kids These Days jancy/mileven, humor, ~4k words. Mike and Eleven start to explore; Nancy deals with her brother growing up; Jonathan is the least helpful boyfriend ever (but not really.)

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 #jancy #mileven #stranger things spoilers #stfic

[binickandros]

The Space Between

AO3

A Stranger Things fanfic

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Characters: Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson, Jason Carver, Laura Cunningham, Heather Holloway

Additional Tags: No Vecna (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Touch-Starved Chrissy Cunningham, Touch-Starved Eddie Munson, Soft Eddie Munson, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Chrissy Cunningham Cheats On Jason Carver, Not Jason Carver Friendly, Bad Parent Laura Cunningham, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use, Car Sex, Squirting, Semi-Public Sex

Summary: New Year's Eve 1985. At midnight the lights go out and the goal is simple: kiss the person closest to you or have bad luck the whole year. For Chrissy Cunningham, the closest warm body just happens to belong to Eddie Munson. The kiss is electric, life-altering, and after six years of crushing on each other from afar, they're both left wondering where they can possibly go from here. Can two people, so seemingly different, ever find the common ground they need to truly connect?

It turns out the space between a princess and a freak isn't as wide as either of them thought.

#hellcheer #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #munningham #my fic #stmine #stfic #st fic

[lovebeyondmeasure]

jonathan byers and smile... let him be happy PLEASE

On back roads about 45 minutes from anywhere, Jonathan taught Nancy how to drive, at first just letting her shift gears from the passenger seat. The first time she shifted too fast, she shrieked at the sound; then her brow furrowed, her chin lifted, and she told him to go again.

Jonathan turned, kissed her determined mouth, and did as she told him.

He knew when Nancy focused on something, she simply kept going until she got it down, and driving was no different. Within two weeks, she was working the pedals mostly right.

“Once you get your own wheels, you won’t need me anymore,” he joked, a hand in his hair, self-deprecation a habit.

“Don’t be stupid,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Of course I’ll still need you around. Or at least, I’ll still want you around.”

Seeing his shy, pleased smile, Nancy huffed a laughed and kissed him.

[available on AO3] // {send me a prompt and i’ll write you a drabble}

#stranger things #stfic #this resisted for hours and then just.....happened?? #i hope you like it!!! #badass nancy wheeler is my religion #also it's a drabble and a half #100 words is hard ok #drabble #available on ao3 #onesweetbeautifulsong