#Eddie Munson soft
Note
would you write eddie munson x fem!reader smut?
where eddie’s chilling in his girls‘s room, bored because she’s taking a shower. he’s kinda snoopin’ around & finds a pastel pink book. he’s curious & starts reading it, realizing it’s her diary. he skips to the last page, dated just a few days ago. his eyes widen, not believing what he’s reading about his innocent girl.
sure they had sex. and not that vanilla, too. but he would’ve never thought his girl had thoughts like that. on this very page, his girl wrote her hidden fantasies. things she never even thought of telling eddie, too embarrassed. she’s talking about how she wants to call eddie „daddy“, or be choked, be humiliated to the brim, be filled by his cum till he’s dry, want him to be in complete control. she wants to be fully submitted to him.
before he can put the diary away she comes out of the bathroom, catching him. he confronts her & she tells him how embarrassed she is etc. they talk it out & he reversals that some of the stuff she likes he likes too. then they make out & they try out some of the stuff.
Oh my god you're an evil genius, time I put my 4 years of journaling to good use! - also ive been working on this all week and the 'h' key on my keyboard keeps getting stuck and its making typing no longer fun :/
Written Fantasies
Summary: ^^ the ask
Pairing: Eddie x Reader
Trigger Warnings: Smut / Embarrassment / hands on throats - no chocking
Content Warnings: Diary Reading / blow jobs / impoliteness / shoe frontage / demands / deep throating / reader masturbation
MY EDDIE MASTERLIST BABY!!!!!!!
The space was as recognisable as the back of his hand, and as comforting as his denim vest: lightly coloured walls, cabinets around the room, shelves and counter tops filled trinkets and lifes memorabilia: photos of events, pretty candles, books, small trinkets of days out, wrist bands and broken watches that simply just meant too much.
Things changed every time he entered this space: photos changed frames, boxes gained new records, the cassette piles grew, and the books changed order.
Eddie clocked - while laying on your bed waiting for you to come back from your shower - that not only had the books changed but new ones were added. when he sat up to take a better look: there were 4 books, all identical sat up together leaning on a pile of published books.
The 4 were pink, all the same size, some slightly thicker, one especially thinner. All with individual dates written into their spines: 1983, 1984,1985, 1986. He weren't no idiot, his brain sorted that they were diaries.
He felt a twinge of pride for you to have the left out on display - almost like trophies, proud of your past. He knew a lot about you but you'd seemed to have never told him you wrote a diary. Eddie knew it was standard procedure you don't read people diary: just as you don't snoop in artists sketch books or dungeon masters binders. But who would he be kidding if he said he didn't wanna read it.
He thought a moment, concentrating and recognising the shower was still running. He didn't have to think too much, the boy was running on curiosity alone. Sat up on the edge of your bed, he leant over and pulled 1986 into his hands.
It started with him just flicking the pages: most of it empty; a few loose sheets tucked into the back; a pen clipped to the elastic closer. The filled side of the book was set out meticulously: a yearly planner already almost filled with exams, cheer practice, birthdays, appointments, dates with Eddie, every Tuesday marked with Hideout at 7, every odd Friday marked Hellfire!.
There was this warmness in his heart, knowing his life was just as important to you as it was for him. He believed every I love you, but know he understood every I love you.
He flicked through the book more: budget planners, goal pages, period trackers, and the body. Filled with your typical too-curly-to-read handwriting, every page filled line for line. Some sitting half empty signifying the end of an entry.
Eddie couldn't possibly understand what you had to write about for long that you wouldn't just tell him or your friends.
He found the dog eared page, the scruffily written date marking yesterday. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy. He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't stop himself.
As he read down the page: a recall of your date to the record store and diner, small notes of your gushing over Eddie's chivalry (he always thought holding doors open and little pet names were usual things), a detailed explanation of his outfit and how you loved it (he read that a few times, remember to wear his little thigh harness around you more often.). And as he continued to read, the writting felt less confident, as though there as a topic waited to be hinted at.
He skipped over to the next page and down it, finding a few words grabbing his eyes: touch myself, embarrassing, chocked, him, daddy.
His eyebrows rested in his hairline, eyes almost leaving his skull, the warmth on his checks wasn't imagined. He jumped back a few lines:
Jesus I feel 14 again. I dont know why he does this to me. I see him everyday, and yet im still pinning over him like he's some untouchable deity.
He reads down
We have sex so much but like every night I end up touching myself thinking about- its so embarrassing! I feel like ive been poisoned!! literally none of my friends are like this about their boyfriends!
yeah we all talk about sex but they all have usual sex and normal fantasies but like I feel like a deviant. if I ever told anyone what I really want they'd all look at me so weird
but if I think about sex with him about him all I can think of is his hands and his lips and his voice! and if Im actually honest with myself, all I want is him. I cant stop. ive got into this habit of thinking about him before I go to bed and like every night I touch myself to him.
literally seem like I cant just have him- and I so can but I want so much more!
like if I really thought about it: I'd love him to just use me, do whatever. He could fuck me, make me fuck him, cum in me, chock me, spit on me and I'd be so fucking happy!
Or like, my brain keeps thinking to what if we're fucking and someone hears or we're almost gonna get caught and it turns me on so much! I feel like a pervert.
Eddie felt himself hold his breath.. he was no prude, under his bed was riddled with lost porn mags, he know a lot about kinks and fetishes but something about hearing from you - sweet, quite, calm you- shit! He was getting all flustered.
And like also! keep calling him Daddy in my mind too - I dont know where thats come from but it feels so right! I just really want him to just have his way with me. I dont know how on earth I tell him this. this is so embarrassing.
Eddie was transfixed by your confessions: the sound of the water had slipped his ears. Let alone, he hadn't heard the floor creak and wind chance as you entered the room.
"Jesus babe! You scared me- can't make a guy jump like that!" He yelped, the towel hitting the bed making him jump back into real time.
You laughed at him at first... until your eyes danced around him... and what he had in his hand. You didnt need to ask to know. And almost instantly you felt your body tense, mind go blank and cheek redden. Hands sat in on each other, lips rolled in, eye popping out almost. "Um-"
Confident as ever, he laid back into your pillows, straightening out his legs, "Didn't know you thought like this, Sweetheart.." He started reading, "Kinda want him to fill me until hes dry-"
You leapt onto him - to be honest the word doesn't cut it. You practically jumped on him, trying to grab the book from him but he was swift... dodging your hands artfully as he continued reading. His light and teasing voice was harmonised by your loud commands for him to stop. The room had laughter too: Yours was embarrassment and his was humour.
After a particularly wobbly Eddie! he put the book down, giving you a perfect moment to sling it back onto your cabnit. "Please stop." You frowned.
"Awe sorry baby," He laughed, pulling you down for a cuddle, "It's really hot though." You whined, "It is! Fuck babe," He sighed, "I really didn't think you'd wanna do anything like that!" It surpassed you how he had this ability to never be ashamed or embarrassed about anything. He dipped his head into your neck, "Like being chocked, filled with my cum. fuck, even messy..."
"Shut up!" You leant up, hands flying to his face, coving his mouth and you were straddled to his hips. "I can't believe you- I'm so embarassed!"
"Why?" Earnest and lovie as he moved your hands down.
"You were never meant to find out..."
"Why, you know im into anything?"
"Embarassing."
"No its not."
"yes, it is."
"You know," he started rubbing your thighs, "I'd love to fuck you dumb, fill you up, have you all messy-"
Now you'd be lying if you said he wasn't affecting you- you were embarrassed but so secretly turned on. Your tummy tensed, the blood went to your head, your thighs stiffened. But still your embarrassment was bigger, "Stop making fun of me!"
"Baby baby baby" He cooed, pulling your hands from your face, "I promise i'm really not."
You whined at him, he mimicked you back, pulling you down for a delicate honest kiss. It was deep and slow, him offering his truth to you. And who wouldn't melt into that? His hands now found your hip and your neck, in to your lips his mumbled "Roll over."
You gasp as he rearranges you both, your back now to the bed, "Wanna try something." He sat up continuing, "We can't your little sexual fantasies now-" You squirm in embarrassment, "But" He began stroking your cheek in efforts to pull you out your head. "I wanna try something new.""
He leant down planting a sweet kiss to your lips though you tried to chase him for a second, he was already moving down into your neck, planting even sweeter ones there. You could never stay quiet for his sightly chapped lips and heavy hands - small mewls slipped from you. "Good girl." Quiet, practically breathed from Eddie.
"We can't try the public-people-home stuff, but" another neck kiss, "I do.." another kiss to the other side, "really like the idea" a kiss under your ear, "of having you fully submitted" a kiss to the shell of your ear "to me"
The way you gasp makes Eddie sure he's hit gold with you. As he talks, your hand in his hair pulls and squeezes more, "How about," He moves along to kiss your cheek, "I get you on your knees" Another kiss, "no pillow, because desperate whores don't deserve kind treatment." A light kiss to your lips, "And I let you blow me?" Another kiss, "But" Kiss "I'll be holding your head," He was now resting on his forearms, fingers lost in your hair, "Pushing and pulling you exactly how I want?" Another light kiss met with a hearty pull of your hair, "Fill that little mouth up with my cum."
God you were in heaven - how did you manage to get a boy like him. All you felt you could do was nod at him. A tap of your thigh and you were on the floor kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your bed.
Looking up at him, the shy coy expression fell naturally on you, "Pretty girl, aren't you?" He complimented. "Get on with it then." It was like a switch was flipped.
Excitedly, you get his belt and jeans off. His dick was hard and pretty as ever - not too big but a little wide, a more red tint than the rest of him already bleeding pre cum.
You got personal with it, licking the beed off, replacing it with a kiss. Eddie couldn't help the sigh - you ruin him on the daily no matter what you do. You could get lost playing with his head. He helped by tucking your hair behind your ears, keeping his hands on your lower head and jaw.
The kisses turn into kitten licks met with you looking up at him, his spaced out satisfied look made you smile, "Shit- open your mouth for me."
Sat up a bit more, the head of is cock resting on your lower lip, palms lost behind his calves: you were ready to try something you never thought you'd get to. The hands in your hair pushing you down slowly, and pulled you back up even more delicately - he giving both of you the space to gauge how yous felt.
"Suck it a bit harder" You did. "fuck-you love this, don't you?" You nod.
It was really all he needed - he didn't even need verbal confirmation, just the feel of your nails in the backs of his legs and how your eyes were rolled back and closing was enough, not to mentions the light noises in your throat. He pushed you down with more force, hands now cupping your cheeks and jaw.
He didn't make you deep throat him - neither of you needed to go that far at the moment. The half of his dick that was still straining your jaw send your brains both tumbling.
Eddie yanked you off him with a rough tug to your hair pulling a throat whine out of you, "Shit babe- you're a little slut aren't you?"
You nodded dumbly, "For you- love you."
"I love you too," A thumb stroked your cheek, "Daddy loves you."
Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the humiliating reminder he had read you diary. Maybe it was the whispering in the empty quiet house. Maybe it was just him. But you were sure he'd just written you off to hell. You felt a beed of slick drop from your cunt.
And Eddie practically felt it too: he could see the haze covering your pretty eyes and the cheeky smile that covered your face.
A thumb toyed with your lip, he continued, "Gotta get you a little collar with my name on it." And with that you basically purred at him. Eddie was sure he was lost in you as you started to barely suck his thumb.
He'd never had you so spaced and floaty. Sure you've both spoken through sex before but nothing like this, nothing so painfully skilled in what the other actually needs to hear. Sex had never felt so possessive until right now.
The sight of you both was like it was from a porno: you, puffy lipped, half lidded eyes and big breaths; Eddie, pointed look, panting, loved up eyes.
The other hand dropped from your cheek and sat around your neck back - the pressure alone made your eyes flutter - and the sight went straight to his dick.
He popped his thumb out your mouth and brung you up for a dirty, messy, deep kiss. No coordination, just lust. Teeth smacking teeth, uncomfortable postures, hands gripping and clawing where ever they could.
He pulled away, standing up as if to leave. But you whine is stopped when you see he leant against your cabinet. Very idolly, he picked up the diary searching for the place he left off on, commanding a "Come here" using his fingers to make a curling motion, not even bothering to look up at you. "Crawl" He sneers almost as you go to get up.
Granted the space wasn't so big so the crawl was more of an awkward on-you-knees- shuffle but boy did that embarrassment climb back up inside you. If this was with anyone else, the pang of embarrassment woulda been too much, but something in Eddies low murmured tone did something totally new to you. "You're a good little pet, aren't you?"
His eyes never left the book in front of him: flicking through pages, scanning for the right sentence. He began reading off again. Completely as though it was the Sunday news paper and not your kinkiest secret fantasies.
"Eddie stop-"
"You know thats not my name." Eyes still in the book, tone stern and cold. You positioned on your claves between his legs, just waiting. "Thought you liked this? I know this isn't as good as being caught but its pretty close, right?" Finally he looks over.
The sudden feeling of something under you made you squirm, "Go on," He continued, "Get yourself off while I read your silly little diary."
The feeling that swelled in your belly was indescribable. It was overwhelming, unignorable and life changing. Like a duckling to its mother, you blindly listened: beginning to slowly rub yourself on the top of his foot.
"Suck my cock too, Sweetheart." He completely disregards you, finally finding his place on the pages. But he didn't start reading until he could feel your lips kiss his cock head.
You try to loose yourself in kissing him and the weight on your tongue but the perching reminder of what he is reading keeps pulling you out. The blood in your ears and the cotton in your brain were getting thicker.
You felt a ring or two pull on the strands of your hair, your gasps causing you to suck his in harder. You felt the rings apply more of a push at certain points of Eddies reading.
It's all sort of too dirty to really feel like its real life. Nobody really experiences this stuff right? Like it's all just movie magic? Clearly not. Clearly somehow you'd hit the jackpot. Somehow in small little irrelevant Hawkins in the mid 80s, you'd met the jack pot.
The sound of a book hitting a surface pulls you from your slack, readjusting yourself back to the present, you felt two hands play with your hair with more intent.
"Fuck-you sure know how to suck a dick, don't you?" He tucked some behind your ear, making you look up at him "Who taught you that?"
"You-da-daddy." Jumbled delivery thanks to the cock in your mouth.
"Sorry couldn't hear you."
"da-daddy" You tried, but sadly coming out more like 'dabby' thanks to the 5 inch obstruction in your throat.
The palms by your ears tighten, "good" It was almost like an extended sigh, "You gonna take it? Tap me if it's too much, yah?" Serious and caring, you nod.
"Yes" You respond to the eyebrow raise, "Yes daddy."
"Good little thing, aren't you?" Another tuck of your hair, and he pulled your head back in opposition to his hips going forward. He was using you clearlessly, not yet pushing you down as deep as he could, but rather just enjoying your lightness.
The room enters a soundtrack of hisses and hums, some slurps and some groans.
"I told you to get yourself off." It wasn't rude but you felt like you were being told off. Your heart pinged in your chest.
It was annoying how good it felt. Yes your knees stung and the carpet has turned into staples but who cared. The hands behind your ears making you deep throat him were heaven, the foot under your clit was heaven, Eddies musky smell was heaven.
Hums and hisses turned into the sound of fabric rubbing and small 'fuck's and 'shit's. And at this rate the streams of dribble coming off your chin and too the floor was definitely anything but disgusting.
Looking up at him and seeing him looking down, heaven too. "Gonna cum in your mouth." You really couldn't help the whorish whine. "Don't swallow it."
Something about that single demand got you were you needed it too. The swelling between your legs seemed to his its peak, the sheen of sweat tripped and your body felt like it was burning. Finger burring into his thighs, tummy tensed: you came over his foot, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.
Eddie using this as the perfect moment to use you. Seeing a moment where you'd given him your everything, he gripped you harder and thrusted deeply into your throat.
Still in your post orgasm haze, the 2 boney hands drag you up by your arm pits, a leg helps keep you stood. "Open." You couldn't even see him at the moment, but you knew behind the black was a man staring at you with all his love.
So you did as he told. Mouth open, cum threatening to spill, "Good, swallow." There was a hand to your throat, and them butterflies danced again. And then there was a light press to your lips that helps bring your eyes back open.
Neither of you could help getting lost a bit in the other - this was a big step, a big new, a good thing too! Eddie broke your moment off and tucked you into his chest, coddling you.
"I love you"
"I-love- you too"
He laughed at your breathiness. "Can we have an actual conversation about this now"
"Gimme a minute- I think my brains all mush."
He laughed again and gave a kiss to your hair.
#help I wrote this all out and it didnt save and I could look at this point for like 2 weeks after.#but she is done!!#I hope ive done your ask well#this was fun!!!!#relocated heads ask#Eddie munson#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson smut#Eddie Munson fluf#Eddie Munson soft#stranger things smut#Eddie munson fanfiction#joesph Quinn smut#Eddie Munson ask#joesph quinn#st4#Eddie Munson headcanons#joesph Quinn fluff#joesph Quinn fanfiction
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Eddie Kissing you so gently and soft, your soul could leave your body fr, big boy has such soft lips
#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things 4#eddie oneshot#eddie one shot#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson st4#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#Eddie munson soft#eddie munson x you#eddie x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson boyfriend
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Weather the storm // e.m x gn!reader ft. Uncle Wayne
Summary: You need some help to help yourself but Eddie needs help to help you because he's never seen you like this before. Luckily, Uncle Wayne has a wealth of life experiences which he uses to aid Eddie, who can then help you. Eddie just wants you safe, healthy and happy.
Tw; comfort, fluff, I've written so many fics like this already but oh well have another one because we all need a hug from our Uncle Wayne, reader has trouble communicating and uses the weather system to describe their mood, reader stops eating and sleeping as much (poor self-care due to low mood; vicious cycle which they're aware of but lack the want to change it), reader cries, Eddie & Uncle Wayne worry, Uncle Wayne is a hand-holding sweetheart, Eddie and Uncle Wayne refer to each other FREQUENTLY as son & dad respectively because that's the canonical truth and I won't listen to anything else, I only refer to him as Uncle Wayne because calling him 'Wayne' with no precursor feels rude as all hell. Not sure why!
Dedicated to @stevesmunsons, who is going through something incredibly difficult but is still doing her best and kicking ass. Eddie would tell you that it's okay to feel, it's okay to cry, you're still the most metal ever in his eyes, he loves you and he'll always be there, 'kay? 'Kay. I love you lots, Sarah, and I'm sending you lots of love and hugs!💖💖💖 I also dedicate this wholeheartedly to you for always being so sweet and giving with the Eddie edits!!!! You have no idea how light and happy your creations make me feel and how tightly I grip my phone just to feel him closer.🥺Thank you, thank you, thank you.💖I hope you enjoy, Sarah!🌸
Fic specific tags: @neewtmas @maladaptive-day-dreams @sadbitchfangirl @tayhar811 @captainonaboat @chloe-6123 @desicroft02 @anotherdayinchuckletown @skyline4446 @cherrycolas-things @relocatedheads @madaboutmunson2 @rebelcthulhu @fluffysteampunkd @babyloutattoo89 @indiefawna @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @tinfoilhat86
Eddie tags: @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @m00nlight101 @3ddi3-daydreamer @pleasantlycrazyworld @samlealea @indouloureux @basicallybats @niceboyeds @manyfandomsfanvergent @becca-alexa @singularattitudeofasafetypin @knifeskiss @loving-and-dreaming @hiscrimsonangel
Word count: 3, 877.
To begin with, your mental and physical self-care had only slipped a tiny bit. It was barely enough for anyone other than you to notice. You slept an hour less than usual, you snacked a bit less, you gave yourself less time in the shower and watched television for half an hour less every night or watched everything other than what you actually wanted to watch. All that 'saved' time was used to work a bit more, a bit harder, to love yourself a bit less.
To begin with, only you noticed.
Until you didn't. Until you lost sight of yourself.
You stopped noticing the darkening bags under your eyes, the way you occasionally stumbled from exhaustion through the trailer door late at night, the way you stopped smiling when your favourite song came on the radio in Eddie's van or the way the sight of Uncle Wayne at the end of a long hard day (the start of his day spelled the end of yours; you were ships in the night) made you grin so hard you teared up, now caused you to just stare at him with glassy eyes and a barely perceptible smile. You stopped noticing that it had become easier for you to skip a meal than it was for you to actually sit down and eat something.
But Eddie didn't.
Eddie noticed everything, from the very first day you started to display signs that you weren't okay. He saw it all, kept mental notes on behaviours which cropped up which concerned him, and almost nightly relayed them back to Uncle Wayne when they were alone - what is spoken in the Munson trailer stays in the Munson trailer. It's in the Munson Doctrine and so it is a rule never broken, on pain of receiving a cold shoulder for a day or two.
The Munsons had icy shoulders when wronged.
Uncle Wayne had told Eddie to keep an eye on you, to let you come to him in your own time, and Eddie had done that. But then days had turned to weeks, weeks to a month, and Eddie couldn't take it anymore.
He had to step in.
In all honesty, if he hadn't stepped in when he did, Uncle Wayne's advice that night would have been just that:
Clearly, you needed help to help yourself.
You needed Eddie.
Eddie would deny you nothing during the best of times, but during the worst of times? He'd give you all he had and then some.
"Hey, do you think you can swing it with your boss to come home early tonight? Clouds are real dark overhead and I don't know what to do." Eddie turned and looked over his shoulder, to see what had been constant for the last half an hour; you, with a blanket thrown over your lap, staring through the television as you passively watched the images of your favourite film flicker across the screen. There was nothing on your face besides vague recognition. It sent chills down Eddie's spine to realise that even your most beloved film wasn't connecting with you and lowered his voice, "something's wrong, man."
It was the way Eddie stopped speaking in metaphors which grabbed Uncle Wayne's attention, as well as the fact that Eddie was usually the quiet supporter of the graveyard shifts and long, long hours. He was the one to cook three lots of dinner so Uncle Wayne could eat when he got home, he was the one who set the shower up so all that needed to be done was for it to be turned on, he was the one who got the pull out bed ready so all his beloved dad had to do was reheat dinner, eat, shower, then sleep.
Eddie never asked for Uncle Wayne to come home early unless it was real dark overhead. A code for 'family emergency' and one long established: ever since the Munsons had realised that you didn't always have it in you to ask for help, but you were happy to use the weather in place of a mood. No forecast had been given this morning and no forecast had been given this afternoon, either, even though it was obvious that the sun wasn't coming out for you, but this evening, Eddie had had enough of not being able to see what the weather was even when he was sat right next to you, and so he called in the one weatherman who always knew what to do.
All his life, Eddie had never once been in a situation which his dad hadn't been able to resolve or make better somehow, and this was no exception. He was sure of it.
In the end, Uncle Wayne faked a family emergency (it was more an elaboration of the truth, really, because you not feeling okay was an emergency) so that he could get out of work, on account of having no sick time available until the next quarter. He had been working at the plant long enough now that if he wanted to leave early, little about it was said and few eyebrows were raised at the daring. It was known that Wayne Munson would make up the time at a later date; his boy was probably in trouble again.
Uncle Wayne got home as quickly as he could. No traffic laws were broken, a decision made through a clenching jaw and fingers which white-knuckled the steering wheel. If he had his way, he would fly home. Hell, he would never have gone to work at all if he really wanted to get his way, but the world hadn't ever been kind to him and Uncle Wayne had sworn to himself over a decade ago that he would shield his boy from it as best as he could. Full of anger, he always chose kindness where he could, and he was nice where he couldn't be kind. It wasn't easy, but he wanted to be better than the people who had taught him how to hate. He wanted to do right by his boy. Even when his boy wasn't around to watch.
That had to count for something, right?
Uncle Wayne thought it did, and to hell with anyone else who didn't.
He had Eddie and they didn't, so who was the real winner in this situation?
On that high thought, which made Uncle Wayne's heart ache in his chest, he was home, and in no time at all did he push open the front door to the trailer with a world weary sigh. The world couldn't touch him or his boy when they were home together. It was their sanctuary from a world which sought to devour anyone born into it, turn them into just another nameless, faceless cog in the machine. A number on a spreadsheet. A statistic. But here, in this trailer? Why, it was a place of love and acceptance, tough love when required, pride always, understanding and tenderness and no judgement. Ever. For anything.
Home is where the heart is and that's why the trailer was the trailer when one or both Munsons weren't in it, but home when they were together under the same metal roof.
"Hey, kiddos!" He kept his voice level; it came out sounding gruffer than it was intended, but you and Eddie both heard the relief in his voice to be home, and the slight strain of tension in his voice when his tender blues fell upon you. He wasn't even fully in the door and already you were one of his priorities. Eddie had taken a few steps closer, like a moth to a flame when it came to his dad, but you had stayed exactly where you were, gazing absently at the television. Your usual excited greeting, the way you bounced up like a puppy when a Munson came home, was nowhere to be heard or seen and it caused similar looks of worry to cross the Munsons' faces.
"Oh, thank fuck! Dad!" Eddie was a blur of black and denim as he launched himself at Uncle Wayne, who only chuckled fondly and brought Eddie into his chest easily. It was a part of his come-home routine to catch his boy, literally; Eddie had always been fond of throwing himself out of trees, off benches, at his dad to say hello... "Thanks for coming home early," Eddie whispered, his voice a bit louder than a whisper was supposed to be, but you were still mindlessly watching television and paying little attention to your surroundings.
That was two strikes in both Eddie and Uncle Wayne's books; barely watching your favourite film, and you hadn't hugged the elder Munson within a millisecond of Eddie letting him go.
"'Course," Uncle Wayne smiled and ruffled Eddie's curls, his hand almost swallowing the crown of his son's head, fingers hot and grip firm. Eddie's ultimate comfort was his dad's touch, physical or otherwise. His dad's cooking, words, music, hugs, hell, even all the times he still crawled into his dad's bed after a nightmare (the most recent of those times was just last week), his music, all reached Eddie deep within, further than even your own touch sometimes. "I'd never tell my boy no." Not for something like this, especially.
Eddie playfully winced. "Ehh, once or twice."
Uncle Wayne nodded his head in agreement, crow's feet deepening as he smiled. He loved the banter just as much as Eddie did, found it invigorating to know that Eddie was now able to give as good as he got. He had never quite managed it as a kid or even as a teenager, but now at twenty, he could run circles around Uncle Wayne when he wanted to. And he did. Often. "Gotta keep ya' on your toes, son."
Eddie inched in for another hug from his dad, squeezing, and took the opportunity to say, "this is really bad, man. I don't know how to help." He let go and Uncle Wayne rolled his shoulders, kicked off his boots, and cast his blues over you again. Not in greeting, this time, but in searching. Figuring you out.
Uncle Wayne stepped away from the front door and toed off his boots, nudging them into line against the sideboard with his socked feet, shed his coat and hung that up. He was left in that flannel you loved so much and wore often, a dark blue shirt underneath, and some jeans which had seen better days and had obviously undergone several repairs.
"You all right there, Y/N?"
You gave Uncle Wayne a tight smile. "Yeah, m'fine. How was work?"
Eddie visibly winced for real. Rule number one with his dad: never brush him off or tell him you're okay if you're not. He had had to drill that into Eddie's head from day one and it had taken Eddie years to trust Uncle Wayne enough to be fully honest with him. Every sliver of truth he gave Uncle Wayne, even now when Eddie was living his fullest life, was very appreciated and reciprocated equally. Uncle Wayne tolerated many things, but his loved ones lying to him was not something he ever tolerated, not even a little bit and not for any reason.
Uncle Wayne inhaled deeply, shook his head just once, and then exhaled. Got down in front of you on his knees and took both of your hands in his. Eddie took the cue and sat down to the side of you which was closest to the door, and wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, his fingers splayed across your upper arm to touch as much of you as he could in that one moment.
"Work was fine, sweetpea," Uncle Wayne's voice was gruff but again, you and Eddie heard all the kindness in the world. "But I ain't interested in talkin' to you about that, no offense," he chuckled wryly, "I asked you how you are, darlin', an' I want a proper answer. You got my kid all worked up an' that gets me worked up and m'too old and too tired."
"Dad!" Eddie hissed, but Uncle Wayne barely glanced at him. One kid at a time. Eddie had had his time and so now it was your time.
"Talk to us, Y/N. We ain't gonna' judge you here. Y'know that by now."
"Yeah," Eddie agreed easily, leaning his head on your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into Eddie's warmth, "you're safe here, I promise. What's said in this trailer stays in this trailer, 'kay?"
"Mm-hm." You nodded, a stinging at the backs of your eyes and nose telling you that you were going to cry if they carried on. The weight of Eddie pressed against you, the sight of Uncle Wayne on his knees before you, eyes level with yours, tender blues and chocolate buttons giving you equally weighted gazes, Uncle Wayne's hands holding yours tightly, calloused and warm, Eddie's hand rubbing up and down your arm slowly... it was all too much and you almost felt the urge to run away, and yet... this was all you had been wanting.
Uncle Wayne and Eddie.
Eddie and Uncle Wayne.
The Munsons.
The most amazing package deal you had ever received and would ever receive in your life.
"Let's try again." Uncle Wayne squeezed your hands in encouragement. He really wanted to help you, to do the best for you that he could. He loved you like you were one of his kids, and though Eddie would always be his number one, his absolute top priority, Uncle Wayne had a heart bigger than the size of Hawkins and he had room for any kid and every kid who wanted in on his heart. You just had to be open and honest and kind, and you were a part of the family. It was just how Uncle Wayne was, and it was the way Eddie had been raised to be, too. One look at Hellfire Club and Corroded Coffin and anyone could see that Eddie took after his Uncle, his dad, beautifully. He had been raised so magnificently given the circumstances but only the most important people got lucky enough, close enough to see that.
Seamlessly, Eddie picked up his dad's sentence, "you okay?" They knew you needed both of them, and without any foreplanning between them, they were giving you everything you needed and more.
"No," your voice cracked, "No, Eddie. I'm not okay." You risked a glance at Uncle Wayne and that was when you broke. "I'm not okay at all," You hiccuped and then immediately burst into tears. It scared you, your sudden intense display of negative emotion, and that made you cry harder. All those days, weeks, of suffering in silence, trying to do your best while destroying yourself in the process, all that effort and work to keep yourself together when you barely realised that you were falling apart, and all it took in the end to bring you down was the sight of Uncle Wayne looking at you with those eyes you loved so much.
If one look could kill, then another look could save, and between the two Munsons, you would be lifted high above the clouds so that you could see the forest for the trees and thus, find out where to go from here. But not alone. Never alone.
"Whoa, whoa, hey, hey," Eddie cooed, squeezing you tighter into his side as Uncle Wayne raised one ofyour joined hands so that he could use the back of his to dash your tears away. "It's okay, Y/N, we're here, you're safe." Eddie felt guilty about feeling relieved that you had finally shattered.
"I just don't know what to do," tears dripped sore and Uncle Wayne kept his hands in yours as he used the backs of his hands to dash them away; though they were falling faster than he could move but he persisted, kept at it. He never gave up on Eddie, he never had and he never would, and he wasn't about to give up on you either. "I can't do this anymore. M'fuckin'... treading through water, running uphill, walking on the spot... trying so hard and goin' fucking nowhere and I'm sick of it. I don't wanna do this anymore, there's no point and m'tired."
"Storm's ragin' pretty hard, ain't it?"
Your eyes focused in on Uncle Wayne, though you couldn't see him for the tears, and you squeezed your hands inside his unwavering grip. "Uncle Wayne, please." What you were asking for, you knew not, but Uncle Wayne had a wealth of life experience, he had been around and seen a lot, and even with his boy smushed against your side did Uncle Wayne manage to give you a proper hug. You were able to rest your head on his shoulder and Eddie, though he grumbled some, followed you so that he was hunched over next to you, his head on your shoulders, the both of you oneshift away from collapsing atop Uncle Wayne from where he knelt on the floor, but none of you wanted to move. You would follow the Munsons anywhere and that included the floor of the trailer, so long as they kept holding you like they were.
"You're enough, darlin', believe you me. Don't destroy yourself no more, that point you're tryna' make ain't worth it, y'hear?"
"But I - " You straightened up, your back beginning to ache, but Uncle Wayne kept his hands and yours together, his touch your grounding just as much as Eddie's touch was.
"Nope, nope," Eddie waved his hands emphatically, situating himself correctly once more as well on the sofa, "absolutely not. You've been hurting yourself for a month, not letting me in, not taking care of yourself... and for what? I can't watch anymore, Y/N. M'worried and dad is too... just, please, talk to me. I wanna help. No buts." Eddie swept his hand through his hair, his dark curls snagging on his silver rings 'til he got frustrated and yanked his hand free, wincing but paying himself no mind. Eddie was used to rough treatment. "Look, I get it. The Shire is burning, right? Ground's too hot and you can't go up in the trees because they're on fire too and everything's on fire and it feels like you're in Mordor but, sweetheart, you're not. You're here, with me and my Uncle, you're safe."
Eddie's voice was soft, his tone was quiet, his arms back around you, holding you to his side. You rested your head on Eddie's shoulder and turned it to the side, hiding your face in the part of him where leather collar became bare skin, and Uncle Wayne squeezed your hands once more before he let you go, slapping his thighs as he stood up with a suppressed groan. He was too old for this shit but did it anyway because that's who he was. Eddie shushed you when you made a quiet noise of protest at how cold and empty your palms felt without Uncle Wayne's to keep them company, but you felt that same touch on the top of your head; I'm here, Y/N.
"You ain't alone, kid. We're gonna help you, any way we can. But you gotta help us to help you. Talk. Tell us what you need. Hell, show us or write it if you can't say it. I get it," Uncle Wayne shrugged easily, the look on his face one of, what can you do? as he moved through the trailer to go and make some dinner for the three of you. Indeed, he paid neither you nor Eddie any further mind as he set about cooking something and the two of you saw the dismissal for what it was; moving into Eddie's room without any words having to be spoken.
You just knew each other.
It was only when the door was shut behind the both of you that Eddie's bravado dropped, and his hands and lips began to tremble at almost the exact same second as he looked at you, his chocolate eyes glassy with tears.
"You - you had me scared, Y/N, I thought you - " Eddie sniffled, "well, I don't know what I thought, not really, but I've been so worried, sweetheart."
"Oh, Eddie, baby," Your own eyes stung with tears anew as you grabbed Eddie and pulled him into a tight, tight hug, every planes of your bodies aligned as you held each other. One of your arms was around Eddie's waist and the other was around his broad shoulders, your fingers flexing in those dark curls you braided most nights, and both of his arms were locked around you. But his embrace felt less like a cage and more like security. Even at your worst, Eddie loved you as strongly, as fiercely, as he loved you at your best. "M'sorry, honey, really, I - I don't even know why I've been - " You sighed, no longer able to speak. You didn't know how to explain it even to yourself, so how could you explain it to someone else? "I'll try to be better, and talk to you." Eddie nodded and you noticed that your shirt was beginning to feel wet where his face rested against the material, but you didn't call him out on the way he sniffled and stepped ever closer to you, though not even a sheet of paper could have gotten between you at that point. "I love you, Eddie, so much, and I'm sorry I shut you out."
Eddie shook his head, his curls tickling you, and he sniffled. "No more, Y/N. Just promise to talk to me, 'kay? There's no shame in needing help. You're strong enough to weather any storm, I've seen you do it. Every time you thought you couldn't get to Mordor, you did, and putting out the flames in the Shire so you don't have to go anywhere won't be easy, but I can help if you let me, yeah?"
You squeezed Eddie, breathing him in, and the two of you stood there hugging each other in the centre of his messy but clean room like there was nowhere else you would rather be and no one else you would rather be with.
At least, until Uncle Wayne called the both of you through for dinner.
You loved his cooking almost as much as you loved Eddie.
Almost.
You weren't okay, you were a mess. You needed sleep, you needed food, you needed to drink properly, you needed to take better care of yourself so then you could more effectively and efficiently manage your responsibilities and take better care of your mental health by way of being significantly less stressed. It was overwhelming and you wanted to give up before you had even started, but you had the Munsons to guide you through situations you got yourself into, whether they were or were not your fault, and they would do their best to help you no matter what it took. For you were a Munson, and Munsons never quit.
Even and especially when they most wanted to.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson soft#stranger things 4 x reader#stranger things x reader#uncle wayne#wayne munson#eddie munson
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⚡⚡⚡
Eddie Munson would love the shit out of your stretch marks.
He'd kiss them and trace them lightly.
He'd tell you that you were marked by the gods and that proved how heavenly you were.
Any new ones that crop up he'd greet them to your body with a kiss and a gentle trace of his finger tips.
Any old ones he'd greet with the warmest smile and place a kiss on them speaking reverently as if he were witnessing a holy moment.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x plus size reader#eddie munson x fat reader#eddie munson / you#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson soft#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson/reader#eddie munson headcannon
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.”
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”
And then the live is over.
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.
…
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.
He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
…
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.
"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.
…
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
…
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer.
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
…
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised.
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.
…
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.
“Hi, Sweetheart.”
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise.
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg.
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah?” You whisper.
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#female reader#camboy!eddie#camboy!eddie munson#soft!dom eddie
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Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.
It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.
Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.
They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.
The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.
Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.
"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."
Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.
"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"
Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?
"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"
Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."
And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"
The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.
"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?"
And Steve's eyes fly open.
Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.
It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.
Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...
It's longing.
"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."
"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"
"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."
Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.
"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."
Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.
"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"
Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."
Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.
"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.
Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"
Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-
Oh.
That's what Steve wants, isn't it?
"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.
"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.
He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."
Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...
Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.
They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.
This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.
Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.
This isn't just anyone.
This is Eddie.
And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.
He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.
He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs.
"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.
And Eddie is wiping away his tears.
"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.
Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.
Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."
Steve's breath hitches.
"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."
He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"
"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."
"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.
He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.
What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.
"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."
His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.
It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...
His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.
"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.
Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.
"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.
Steve is helpless but to obey.
Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.
"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."
The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.
"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.
"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"
Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.
"Just want you," he says.
Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.
"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.
"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."
"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."
Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.
Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.
"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.
Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.
Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.
Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.
"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.
Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.
"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."
And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.
So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.
He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.
Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.
When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.
When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.
He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.
And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.
Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.
"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.
"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.
Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.
He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.
"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.
And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it.
Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.
And Eddie?
Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.
It’s perfect.
It’s earth-shattering.
It’s everything.
--
Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!
For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#soft steddie#steddie fluff#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#first kiss#cw: weed#stranger things#i'm so normal about them
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#cw child abuse#referenced but does not take place in the fic#cw panic attack#even if it doesn't look like one at first#soft ending though as always I promise
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Steve gives Eddie the pink teddy he wins at the fair, sort of as a joke but also kinda hoping he'd like it. Eddie had joked about it being "mighty impressive, big boy" and that had seemed to be it.
But a few weeks later, Steve is round Eddies and he still has the teddy on his bed, in the open, propped up by the pillows. Steve tries to be casual when he says something like "oh hey, he's still here".
Eddie is quick to correct; "her name is Strawberry. And of course she's still here, she lives here."
He doesn't notice the chronic case of heart eyes Steve gets, too busy going into the backstory he gave her; befriending dragons, marrying the king... Steve is determined to win her a friend.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#I just think Eddie should be able to enjoy soft and ''silly'' things
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"you're gonna make me fall in love with you, aren't you?"
eddie's room is quiet except for the ambient noise the trailer makes and the deep, sighing breaths steve is making against his chest. it's the same breaths he makes when he's sleeping, the ones that sound like once he's unconscious, he can actually let go and take in a full breath without all of his daily anxieties holding him back.
eddie assumes he's asleep now so he mutters out the secret he's been holding in for too long. eddie assumes incorrectly because steve's snuffling against his chest to resettle his ear over eddie's heart.
"would that be such a bad thing?"
steve's fingers drag slowly across his stomach before wrapping around the side of his bare waist, pulling like he could somehow get eddie even closer than he already is. he has half a mind to push steve off his chest so he can't hear how wildly the move makes his heart flutter.
eddie sighs, runs his fingertips over steve's freckled shoulder like an apology. like a promise. "i'm not sure yet."
they aren't just friends, they aren't dating but they're- they're something. something that's made up of too hard kisses and wandering hands and gazes that catch before darting away with dopey grins. they're a forest fire that can't burn out, can't be controlled until it's all scorched earth in its wake. they're a rainstorm, soothing and gentle, coaxing life back into the forest floor like it deserves a fresh start.
eddie's afraid but when is he ever not? eddie's confused but that's not exactly a first either. eddie's falling for steve and it has his brain tied up in knots as he tries to make sense of it all. steve wraps a leg over his while his fingers drum against his side. he has to be able to hear how everything he does, everything he is, affects eddie because he's leaning up to press a shock of a kiss over his heart. like the electricity from that alone will shock eddie's heart back into rhythm.
"well, let me know when you make up your mind about falling," steve whispers sleepily, his lips dancing over eddie's sensitive skin leaving goosebumps and lightning in its wake, "because i'm already down here waiting."
eddie's heart thuds painfully, steve covers it with a kiss once more.
he closes his eyes and feels, takes in the sharp bite of steve's cologne, matches his breathes to steve's, runs his foot over his bare calf to get them even closer. he doesn't have to think about it for too much longer because he already knows that he'll follow steve anywhere, even if that means tumbling and falling after him.
#bee writing something that isnt just smut for the first time in like a month how shocking#just woke up feeling soft about these dudes idk#my writing#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet
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Come giggling with me
summary: cumming on dick for the first time aka giggly sleepy morning sex with eddo
pairing: Eddie Munson X Reader
content warning: -
trigger warning: p in v / smut
Eddie master list!!
The familiar smell of old cigarettes, wood and warm air fill your nose. The feeling of smooth bedsheets and body heat fill your senses. The sunlight pouring in from the forgotten unclosed curtains pools in your eyes: all as you wake up. A wake up yawn and arm stretch jogs your brain into remembering you were at Eddies.
The boy aforementioned: asleep beside you, laying on his back, arms stretched above his head. You smile at him, deciding to roll into his chest, grumbling in comfort when you get there.
Eddie groans above you, his hands moving around you to rub up and down your back. "Good morning." you could barely call it a voice this early on in his day, he spoke in nothing more than cracks and waves.
You whisper the same back into his chest, a hand tapping his peck muscle, "don't wanna get up. Let's stay here all day." with a whiny tone, you nuzzle in closer.
He laughed breathily, arms leaving you to stretch a little and rub the sleep from his face. Mornings were always slow for you both, enjoying the bubble that was made, it was something you cherished more than any date ever. Hands rejoin the skin of your back, you to sigh into him.
Kisses leave your lips and land on his collarbones, followed by happy little groans, "mm love waking up with you."
There's a secret flutter to the boys heart; he loves it too. He couldn't love this any more than he does. He pulls you close enough for your souls to touch. You were a jumble of limbs: legs wrapped up, arms crossed, top of heads touching bottoms of chins. "Me too" he sighs.
"Forever?"
"Hm?"
"Wake up with me forever?"
"Mhm" You're guided up for a kiss. Its soft but heavy in its love. Light but so thick you can feel your knees buckling. The rush of love pulls your face into his neck: you kiss and kiss and kiss.
Your lips light to him, sometimes multiple kisses in one spot, sometimes a little graze of your teeth. All causing Eddie to sink into his happy and sleepy hums and sighs, "Someone woke up happy."
You giggle: an airy, pretty thing, "Always happy with you." So many more kisses are left in its wake.
The time spent dropping smooches onto him is unknown, and its unneeded to know. But you feel him groan in a discomfort after awhile, the reaction making you laugh to yourself, knowing all too well.
He squints down at you, playing into the dramatic nature of himself. With pretty batted eyelashes and a coy smile, you responded. He acknowledges you in a smile and laugh of his own. A share of giggles and your moving down the bed, pushing the cover away, laying down in-between his legs.
A little happy smile and hum at the sight of him, you rub your thumb over his slit. Looking up at him, you noticed he was looking down at you - both staring at the other as though they had hung the moon. With the eye contact kept, you guided yourself to his head and began to lick it - small light delicate licks.
Eddie rolled and dropped his head back at the sigh, pushing an airy laugh out of you. You moved back to spit down his dick, using a hand to rub it over him. Once satisfied, you started to leave sideways open mouthed kisses along his length.
"Shit- love that, Honey." He pushed some hairs out your eyes, tucking them behind your ear. You had started to put him in your mouth and suck on him, humming and moaning to yourself about the heaviness on your tongue.
The room filled its self with hums, groans, moans, slurps, slight gasps and gags but also was topped off with laughs, giggles, pretty sentences.
"So pretty, aren't you?" you mumbled a response; lost to the dick in your mouth, "love you messy." you nodded: more wet kisses, more spit, more untidy head.
After dropping him, you focused on kitten licks and head sucking again, you let your tongue circle it, "Pretty."
"You think?"
"Mhm" He was back in your mouth.
Just as you went down, two hands held your checks, pulling you back up and off. Guided up towards his mouth, one kiss popped onto you and a rather excited "My go!" later and you were rolled onto your back having your pjs pulled down. You doubt you could ever tire to his theatrical side.
He began an onslaught of kisses onto your skin, touching everywhere he could: thighs, public bone, the small tattoos, hip bones to name a few. He giggled, "You're so wet!" and dropped a kiss to another place, your cunt. His out loud thinking always caused your cheeks to rose up.
Eddie's kisses turned into licks and sucks. Small heavy licks on your clit, tongue lapping over your whole area, slurping and sucking your slick, dropping his tongue into your briefly, humming and whining to add to his attack.
From the first touch of his, your head had met the pillow and your pupils met the inside of your eyes. You couldn't work out how he always knew the right ways to touch you, sometimes you thought he shared your nerve endings. The small whines and whimpers couldn't be helped.
After a particularly direct stroke of your clit, an arm shot over your eyes, and you had to bit back the howl you felt near. "Eddie?" Voice delivered quiet and breathy.
"Hm?" He spoke into you.
Sitting up, you cupped his cheeks, pulling him off. "Don't wanna cum." You shy tone made him cock his head, "Wanna, umm," He smiled at you, rubbing your thighs urging you to continue. "Wanna cum with you."
You eye contact never broke, his smile did grow softer, "you always do."
"no, no I wanna cum. with you in me."
Eddie couldn't understand why but it made him melt. Maybe the combination of you, him, alone, its the morning, the sun was decorating you, you both were still beddy warm and had sleep coating your voice... or maybe he just loved you, like full proper gross love.
So he lent in, placed a big sloppy MWAH! to your lips, "and you can, my happy girl." ... or maybe actually it was that soft light giggle you got when you got what you wanted.
In silence you moved together: Eddie leaning over to grab a condom and you wrapping yourself around him restarting the similar onslaught of kisses. You were again a cluster of laughs, kisses and limbs.
He rolls his condom on with in a wink, lining himself up to you "Breath in for me?" and he demonstrates with a dramatic gasp.
You giggled, following the action, "good, now breath out slowly for me." He dropped a kiss to your forehead, "I'll push in as you breath out. Nodding, you follow his lead.
On the push, you could feel the discomforting tightness of your muscles. At the tight expression and guns, Eddie shh'ed you, rubbing his thumb to your cheek reassuring you all the way.
He started by small hallow thrusts - even they left you gasping. You'd done this before but every time it felt like the first. The boy couldn't stop his graditiute from tumbling out as a laugh.
You laughed back, clinging to him more. "You sounds so pretty." Your face went into his neck, "No" He whined, "I wanna hear more." At that, he thrusted deeply. The response of your whine made it all worth it.
He began a pace of thrusting longly, as you got used to it, the whines turns form pain to please. Even a few sighs entered the mix. With your eyes closed and head rolled, you hear "Feel nice?" and respond with fast nods.
There was a kiss to your forehead again that made you open your eyes, "feel nice for you?" Eddie could feel your stare felt 50 yards away.
"Incredible." The tone was cocky, the smile was cheesy. You laughed, pulling him into another hug, where Eddie saw the opportunity the trust more pointedly into you.
The new rhythm left you mewling, nodding, mumbling "Eddie"s, "Please"s and "Yeah"s - he knew he'd hit the spot.
"mm you sound so pretty. c'mon, you can be louder than that."
You nuzzled your face into his neck, "Your Uncle-"
"We can't hear him, he can't hear us." He guided his hands down to your clit.
"But what if he- Oh My- Eddie-"
"There she is!" He cooed, moaning back at you feeling your nails racking his back.
He sits up after a moment, in doing so the position of his dick changes, pulling a hearty moan from you - which he is now sure you were a pornstar in your past life. "No no, lemme see." He whines, pulling your knees back apart, resting his hands on them.
He palls into a little zone, lost in the sight of his dick going in and out of you and the noises you were making. When he retouches your clit, you let go of big gasp, "Tell me when you're gonna cum. yeah?"
You move your hands down to replace his with yours on your clit. Eddie leans back down into your bubble - loving the closeness. You both move together as one for a bit. With lips next to ears, and faces lost in necks: you both turn into a mess of heavy breaths. "cum- gonna cum- wanna"
"Good girl, lemme hear you." His hot breath on your neck was tantalising. And so were the hick was making "Gonna make me cum, Honey. Cum with me."
"Cum-cumming- im cumming- Eddie- cumming- please"
He groaned "fuck- me too, sweet- shit"
There was a collective sigh, Eddie's weight fell on top of you. Still lost in your after glow, you didn't notice you were running your nails up and down his back, let alone your laughing.
"What's funny?" You cocked a brow as he moved his face out of your neck, "You're laughing."
"Oh- I've never done the before." Still delivered in a giggle.
"What- you shoulda said-"
"No no, I mean I've never had a dick in me and came."
This took Eddie of guard, so much so he belly laughs. Falling back down into you, the laugh needed up in your neck with kisses added, "As if-"
"Yah like its either being fucked or getting to cum- never both" You were laughing too, hands getting lost in his hair.
"That sounds honestly tragic, babe."
"My life was full of misery."
He sat up again, "And mediocre fucks."
"But now I have you!" You pocked his chest with a shit eating grin.
He smiled, rolling his eyes "Am I nothing but my dick?"
"Not anymore."
"I hate you."
"Mmm totally" You were kissing again: lazy, cute, loving.
Eddie broke it up for a yawn, "Gonna need to pull out honey." You whined, "Becuaassee" said in the same tone, "I'll shrivel up and get stuck and then we can never get you to cum again." He frowned at you - drama king. "now, big breath again." Tapping your hip
You laughed again, big breath in, repeating the instructions of action on the exhale. It caused you to gasp a little, "Well done champ" He held his hand up for a high five.
"You gotta be kidding-" You laughed, begrudgingly high fiving but using to your advantage to pull him back down, getting lost in your game of sloppy neck kisses.
You both sighed again, nothing but love in the room, "Still wanna stay here all day?"
A roll of your head to look at him on your chest, "Is that even a question?"
"Good" A goodnight-morning kiss is shared, and Eddie nestled into your neck and you wiggled into him, his hands scratched down your hip and thighs, and yours on the base of his head and back.
#Eddie munson#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson smut#Eddie Munson fluff#stranger things 4#stranger things#joesph quinn#Eddie Munson fanfic#Eddie munson soft#st4#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#teehee#joesph Quinn smut
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18+ minors dni
Eddie saying "atta girl," anytime you do good at something.
Eddie showing you how to fix basic little things around your home. "Oh, atta girl baby you fixed it just like how I showed you."
You rushing home to tell him some good news about work. "Atta girl, I knew you could do it."
Or when he's fucking deep into you as youre both breathing heavy in eachothers face. His fingers intertwine with yours as he pins your hands down. His thrusts are passionate, and slow at first. Every stroke of his cock sending you over the edge. His body hovering on top of yours as he tries not to crush you with his weight. Your desperate moans only spurring him on more.
All the while, Eddie's whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he's feverishly pumping in and out of you. Telling you how good you're being for him. How pretty you are like this. How well you're taking him. Slowing down to see if you're okay, and when you reassure him you are he picks back up the pace. He's gentle but still dominant. Tender yet rough all at the same time. "Atta girl, thats it cum for me." He'll whisper in your ear. His low husky voice sending a shiver down your spine. His cock slamming into you faster with no indication of slowing down anytime soon. Your body trembling beneath him as you cum for him again.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#my writing#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#dom!eddie munson#soft!eddie munson#eddie munson headcanons
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You're stressed and need to take a breather // gn!reader x e.m.
tw; a joke about cannibalism (author has a dark sense of humour), stress & physical symptoms described, a few LOTR references because this is Eddie.
eddie baby @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @alliecheer007-88 @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney missfangirl-slightly-obsessive @gemstone-roses
You put your hands over your face and scream, the tightness in your chest having built to a point where you couldn’t see the forest for the trees. There was too much to do and it needed to be done right this very second, or so it felt, and time was running out and you couldn’t -
“Whoa, hey,” fingers wrapped around your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face, revealing Eddie’s beautiful visage. His eyes were soft, so soft, in the low lighting of your bedroom, his fingers gentle, his mouth turned down at the corners in worry. “You okay?”
“What?” You inhaled deeply, “Yeah, I’m - “ your eyes glazed over as you stared at a corner of your room, your mind quiet yet loud, “m’fine.”
The disbelieving look on Eddie’s face made you aware of that tightness, lodged in your chest, and your next breath came out sounding odd.
For a moment, you wanted to pull away from Eddie and carry on with what you were doing, which was… everything and nothing all at the same time, rushing from corner to corner but not seeming to achieve anything no matter how fast you moved.
But Eddie could feel your pulse thundering against his fingertips, could see the tight set of your jaw and the way your shoulders were almost to your neck, the rigid way you were standing, the way you were moving was messy, disorganised, as if your body and mind were working at different speeds.
Eddie got it. He’d been there before many a time and he had no doubt that one day he would be again.
“What do you need to get done, Y/N? Lay it on me.” The Dungeon Master you loved so much appeared with the hand gesture and it made you smile, just a little. Eddie’s eyes brightened in happiness.
You rattled off everything you needed to get done, everything you had already done, everything you thought you needed to get done, you couldn’t think or breathe or move, you were just frozen, your mind shouting at itself to get it all done but your body not cooperating and -
“Easy, Y/N,” arms pulled you into a firm chest, hands wound around you and held you tightly. “Easy. The Shire isn’t burning, right? It’s just a bit hot right now.”
You wondered if that made Eddie a glass of ice cold water, rushing through your body and cooling down the heat of your stress from the inside.
“Cannibalism is only sexy the first time, babe.”
You choked on a laugh, mortified that you had spoken aloud, but already you felt better. All it took was a hug from Eddie to bring you back to yourself.
“Start with the easiest stuff first, right? Get that shit outta the way, then do the other things. If it doesn’t get done today,” Eddie shrugged, “tough shit. It can wait until tomorrow. You’re the biggest priority you have, ‘kay?”
It was easy for Eddie to say, but he came from a place of total understanding, and you could tell he was speaking from experience. “M’kay.”
Eddie smiled at you and pressed a kiss so tender to your forehead that it made your eyes water.
You really did have a lot to do, you did, and Eddie watched with pride from his spot on your bed as you moved through your tasks, doing what needed to be done, and every time he noticed you skip a breath or two, you would look over at him and he would gift you with a smile in return for the gift he received of watching your body totally relax to realise he was there beside you through it all.
Eddie couldn’t carry your problems for you, but he could carry you in moments like this, until the Shire stopped feeling like it was burning and you were on solid ground again.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson soft#stranger things 4 x reader
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Dr E. Munson, D.D.S
Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel.
Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.
A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn.
🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤
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Masterlist
Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom.
Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar.
When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion.
The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed.
Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.
Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here.
“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.”
He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door.
“You're not Dr Burke.”
Well done idiot, state the obvious.
“Seems your eyesights OK.”
He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello.
“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.”
He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently.
He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on.
“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.”
Is he flirting with me?
“I-I was at work this morning.”
You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor.
“So, what seems to be the problem?”
“I was, well…”
“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.”
Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit.
You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.
“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”
He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand.
“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?”
“Yeah.”
Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.
“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.”
Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?
“OK, open wide, that's it.”
He puts the little contraption in your mouth.
“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.”
It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out.
“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.”
Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time.
“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.”
“Surgery? Oh God.”
“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?”
Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers.
“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.”
The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye.
“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.”
A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.
“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?”
“Sure, do what you need to.”
“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.”
My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.
Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me…
Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more.
“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.”
As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.
“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.”
He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here.
“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.”
Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips?
As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know.
“Yeah, it's definitely working.”
“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”
You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth.
“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?”
Sheepishly you hold your hand up.
“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.”
Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.
“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?”
Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.
“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.”
As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out…
“All done.”
“Huh?”
He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.
“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”
“Will you be doing that?”
It rushes out in a blather which you can't control.
“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.”
“OK. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.”
He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you.
“And what should we do with suckers next time?”
Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far.
“I should… suck?”
“Yeah you should.”
A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk.
I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.
********************
It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you.
“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!”
You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves.
“It's not the surgery, its-”
You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot.
“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?”
“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.”
As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you.
“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!”
You blush, thinking about the other day.
“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”
“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?”
“Shut up!”
Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.
“Well, fancy seeing you here.”
“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down.
“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.”
“What, this old thing?”
You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it.
Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia.
“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”
“Ten, nine, eight…”
********************
Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend.
“She's awake! You OK?”
You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic.
“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?”
“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”
“Huh?”
A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right?
“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.”
He laughs, looking a little embarrassed.
“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.”
“Eddie!”
You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still.
“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”
“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.”
Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands.
“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.”
“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!”
Alex pipes up.
“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.”
Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth.
“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”
“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?”
Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”
Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex.
“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.”
“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.”
With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.
********************
The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love.
The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters…
“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.”
“Huh?”
You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different.
Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter?
Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole.
Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.
“Eddie! Er, hi.”
“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”
Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands.
“What brings you here?”
“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?”
He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth.
“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.”
It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine.
You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence.
“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-”
“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”
He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.
“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.”
Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat.
“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.”
I'll say.
“I can- I can see that.”
He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.
“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?”
What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?
It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug.
“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-”
“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.”
You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag.
“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-”
Hell no.
You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.
********************
Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times.
In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town.
Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway.
Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy.
It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however.
The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.
Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender.
“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.”
Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms.
“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.”
You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you.
“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.”
Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.
“You can't just ignore me, you know.”
Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward.
“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.”
Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it.
“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?”
That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl.
“That's totally unfair you can't just-”
“Ha, got ya talking.”
He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point.
“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.”
Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind.
“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.”
“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.”
“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.”
“Huh?”
Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain.
“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.”
Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention.
“You're not my patient anymore?”
“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.”
“You're not my patient anymore.”
You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head.
“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.”
The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful.
“You wanna come upstairs?”
“Hell yes.”
Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares.
Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision.
Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you.
“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.”
“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now.
“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-”
The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head.
For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.
Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs.
You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.
“So, just a chat, yeah?”
You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you.
“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.”
Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs.
You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.
No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it.
“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?”
He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains.
“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.”
He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is.
“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?”
“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?”
You huff dramatically, folding your arms.
“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.”
Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest.
“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?”
His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.
“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?”
Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick.
Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live.
You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses.
Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself.
“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.”
Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again.
“I don't see a lady here.”
Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear.
“I see a very good girl.”
Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak.
Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least.
He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head.
“Milady.”
You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you.
“I thought I wasn't a lady?”
“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.”
You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer.
“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.”
“Just, put it on the floor.”
Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…”
“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.”
“You have a very good point.”
Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other.
As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so.
“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.”
His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.
So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.
“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.”
Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch.
“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.”
He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers.
“Eddie.”
You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord.
“Hmm?”
He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been.
“Eddie, please, just kiss me.”
“No.”
“No?”
He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.
“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.
“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?”
Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat.
“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.”
“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?”
Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face.
“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.
“No?”
Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.”
Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse.
“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.”
It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.
“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”
As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation.
“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching.
“Check what?”
“How wet my words made you.”
‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!”
“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.”
His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness.
“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.”
You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles.
The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth.
His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest.
“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?”
He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch.
“Y-yes.”
“Atta girl.”
He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts.
“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.”
Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other.
When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden.
“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you.
“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.”
Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck.
Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency.
Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building.
Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder.
“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”
His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”
Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess.
Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar.
“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-”
“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.”
Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip.
“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”
Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him.
“Eddie, I can't it's too much-”
“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?”
A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought.
“No,” you whisper.
“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.”
You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl.
Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust.
Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure.
As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt.
An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks.
“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.”
Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you.
“Stay right there, I'll be back.”
You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how?
When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.
“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.”
You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues.
“Eddie, where have you been all my life?”
Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water.
“I came as quickly as I could.”
It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face.
“Can I take you to the bedroom?”
You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms.
“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck.
“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.”
Fuck. You could move in tomorrow.
The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble.
Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button.
“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face.
“I was going to return the favour.”
You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.
“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.”
He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.
As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident.
“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?”
He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms.
“What can I say, I'm a giver.”
He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek.
“You sure you wanna do this?”
Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick.
“Yes.”
You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you.
“Eddie, holy- fuck.”
“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.”
He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders.
“You feel incredible, so tight for me.”
Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise.
“God you really do like my words don't you?”
Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you.
“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.”
His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little.
“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”
As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you.
“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.”
He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart.
One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear.
“How many times?”
“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls.
“How many times do you want to come?”
You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.
“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?”
He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep.
“What's the most you've managed?”
He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you.
“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”
He stops, looking at you incredulously with a furrowed brow.
“Two? We can do better than that.”
He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin.
Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.
“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.”
Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming.
“Eddie, I-I can't, please-”
“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.”
The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop.
“That a no, sweetheart?”
“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!”
You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back.
“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.”
He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs.
“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”
The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own.
He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles.
You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction.
Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight.
“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!”
You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral.
For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing.
He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed.
“You OK sweetheart?”
“Hmm.”
It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest.
“Hang on a sec.”
He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back.
A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation.
As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat.
“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.”
“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”
Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't.
“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”
Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face.
“You're not leaving, are you?”
“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.”
He pouts, looking much younger than he is.
“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?”
“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly.
“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.”
Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking.
“Really?”
“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.”
Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up.
“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.”
“You mean a one night thing?”
You nod, not trusting your voice.
“C'mere.”
Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.
“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-”
“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.”
“I know.”
“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!”
You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up.
“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.”
Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now.
“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.”
You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you.
“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.”
“Thief.”
“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”
Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal.
“So you gonna stay?”
“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes.
“Good.”
Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special.
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Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.
"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."
"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"
Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"
"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."
"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."
Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."
"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."
"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.
Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.
For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"
"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."
"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"
"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.
"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"
"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."
The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.
---
They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.
"You're on time," he says.
Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."
"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."
"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.
"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"
They start with dice, with a character sheet.
"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.
He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."
"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."
"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.
"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."
"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."
"Migraines?"
"Head trauma."
"Byers?"
"And Hargrove."
"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.
"Hit me in the head with a plate."
"What the fuck."
"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."
Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.
"We've been through some shit together."
"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."
"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."
"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."
"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"
"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.
"Completely," Steve admits.
"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."
---
They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.
It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.
It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."
"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"
Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."
"But--"
"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.
Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."
"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.
---
Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.
It doesn't.
Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.
"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"
Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.
"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.
Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."
"Can I do anything?"
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Sorry?"
"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"
"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.
"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.
"Yo--you did?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.
"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."
"Shut-up," Steve laughs.
"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.
The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.
"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.
"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.
"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.
Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.
"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.
"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#fluff#ficlet#oneshot#dnd lessons#falling in love#mutual pining#eddie's down so bad#first kiss#secret nerd steve harrington#i don't know anything about dnd actually so sorry if it's wrong#strangers to friends to lovers#alternate first meeting#big eyes soft curls full lips can't lose#“shut up” “make me” is a love language
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Eddie can never move again.
Or at least, he can’t move for a while. He’s been chosen.
Steve has fallen asleep on his shoulder, and Eddie figures it’s like when a cat chooses your lap to nap on: you simply don’t move until either it can’t be helped or the cat gets up, whichever comes first.
(Eddie tries not to imagine Steve curled up in his lap, instead of just resting on his shoulder. He is marginally successful.)
It’s not really that Eddie is that much of a soft touch (so he likes to think), it’s just that he knows Steve has been running himself ragged lately – he’s been picking up extra shifts and odd jobs in between, trying to save up enough to move out of his parents’ house; he’s been running errands for Claudia while her car’s been in the shop this week; he’s still trying to keep up with the gremlin horde, even if they don’t need rides quite as often these days; and Eddie’s pretty sure he hasn’t been sleeping (they’re creeping up on November; a lot of their party members aren’t sleeping well).
The bags beneath Steve’s eyes are big enough to have their own area code, is all Eddie’s saying, so when he’d noticed Steve nodding and listing a little into Eddie’s side, he’d stayed quiet. He’d stayed quiet when Steve’s head had rested lightly on his shoulder, and had been quiet still when Steve had grown heavier and heavier until he was practically draped over Eddie, head nestled firmly into the crook of Eddie’s neck.
Eddie isn’t going to say a damn thing, and he sure as hell isn’t going to move.
He’s been chosen.
(Never mind that it’s just the two of them watching a movie and there is literally no one else for Steve to fall asleep on. That isn’t the point.)
The only thing is, Eddie’s arm is sort of sandwiched between them, and it’s sort of starting to go numb, and Eddie’s a little worried about the prolonged lack of blood flow. He needs both hands to play the guitar, so he can’t really afford to lose one, is all, so he tries to gently, ever-so-gently, extract his arm from between them.
This works like crap, of course, Steve is a ridiculously light sleeper and Eddie knows this, and he’s stirring against Eddie’s side with a grumble before Eddie can even work the feeling back into his hand.
“Nope,” Eddie murmurs, wrapping his arm around Steve’s back and pulling him closer. “Nope, no, goooo back to sleep.”
He runs his hand gently up and down Steve’s side and, miraculously, this does work. Steve settles, curled even further into Eddie’s side than before, and Eddie sighs. He lets his hand come to rest on Steve’s waist, but keeps stroking with his thumb, just in case.
(Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he and Steve are now essentially cuddling. He is entirely unsuccessful.)
Things are peaceful for a while longer, and they’ve nearly reached the climax of the movie when Steve stirs again.
It isn’t the sort of sleepy stirring that would suggest Steve is waking on his own (Eddie’s seen that, on the occasions he and Steve have spent the night together, just sharing space to fight off the darkness. Eddie’s seen Steve wake on his own, and this isn’t that), this is more the kind of restless movement that suggests something less than peaceful is going on in Steve’s mind.
A little furrow appears between his brows, and a little frown pulls at his lips, and Eddie did not go to all of the trouble of not waking him earlier only for a nightmare to get him now, so he takes his hand off of Steve’s waist and moves it up, carefully carding it into Steve’s hair.
He rubs his fingers against Steve’s scalp, scratching a little, almost petting, and for a moment Steve only grows more restless, leaving Eddie to wonder if he’s just fucked up, but then – Steve nearly collapses into Eddie’s side. Complete dead weight, boneless as a chicken strip.
He hums deep in his chest, clearly pleased (a little like a purring cat, Eddie’s brain unhelpfully provides), so Eddie keeps it up.
In fact, he does it well enough that Steve is still dead asleep by the time the movie ends. And Eddie could wake him, offer to let him stay the night, and hope he can get back to sleep after they relocate somewhere more comfortable, or–
Or he can stop the movie and give in to his heavy eyes and fall asleep sitting curled around Steve.
Which is exactly what he does.
(And when they both wake later, bathed in the blue glow of the stopped VHS tape, completely sore from sleeping all crumpled up like idiots, Steve insists it’s the best he’s slept in ages. He looks at Eddie and says—quietly, almost uncertain, almost like he’s saying more—that they should do it more often.
Eddie agrees.)
[Prompt: Falling asleep on your partner's shoulder]
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddiesteve#stranger things#something soft and silly after last week's angst#solar wrote
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hummingbirds
Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.
“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.
Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.
“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.
“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.
“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.
Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”
Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”
Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”
Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”
“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.
“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”
“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.
He is.
“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”
Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.
“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.
“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”
Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.
“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.
“Harrington.”
“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.
“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.
“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”
“He what?”
Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.
“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.
Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”
Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”
Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”
Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”
Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”
“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”
Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”
“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.
Eddie relaxes but only slightly.
“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”
“Stevie…”
Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”
“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.
“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”
Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”
“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”
It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.
“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”
Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.
“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.
Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”
“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.
“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”
Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.
It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.
Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”
Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”
Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”
Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”
Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”
“I—“
Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.
“Home?”
“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”
Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”
Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”
Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”
Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”
****
I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡
#steddie#stranger things#Steve eventually gets a hummingbird tattoo#everything I write is soft#they deserve to be soft#bisexual steve harrington#gay eddie munson#cw: implied homophobia#cw: internalized homophobia#my writing#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#robin buckley#steve x eddie#soft boys#post s4#bisexuality awareness
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