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munsonsmixtapes · 1 day ago

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Let it Simmer

line cook!Igor x waitress!reader

You and Igor work at a diner together and you have no idea that he’s just as head over heels for you as you are for him.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) public sex, mention of blood, xenophobia, reader almost passes out

This is once again in collaboration with @the-witty-pen-name!! Go check her out if you haven’t already!

You open the back door to the diner, hurrying to clock in as you tie your apron. Your earbuds are blasting your playlist that’s supposed to pump you up, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Today just doesn’t seem to be your day.

Not only was your shift at the grocery store down the street cut two hours but also one of your contacts fell down the drain so you were forced to wear your glasses that you only put on at the end of the day. They aren’t meant for anyone to see.

You hide your face as you hear one of your coworkers moving around the kitchen. You know who it is just by the footsteps and don’t want him to see you like this. It’s embarrassing, the big frames sitting on your face like that.

Just your luck, he passes by to head to the sink which just happens to be right by the clock on station. He’s washing his hands and turns to you to give you his signature warm smile.

He stays looking at you while he washes his hands and you turn away, feeling your cheeks heat. You’ve been crushing on him for months and now you’re concerned that he doesn’t feel that way about you. Not that it’d be easy to tell anyway since he’s a man of few words.

He’s so hard to read and it both fascinates and frustrates you. He seems so mysterious which is hot, but at the same time, you just want to get to know him but he doesn’t really seem to want to open up to you.

All you really want to know is whether or not he’d like to get dinner but you can’t get yourself to ask. There’s something about him that’s unapproachable and intimidating but you think that for whatever reason, he wants to seem that way.

He finishes washing his hands as you put on your apron, making sure all of the proper things are inside and just when you think he’s going to head back to his station, he continues to look at you, pointing at his face and giving you a thumbs up.

“My glasses?” You ask and he nods with an adorable smirk.

“Yes. Very…ugh.” You notice that he gets frustrated easily when he can’t remember English words. His face lights up, though, when he does remember. “Pretty.” Is all he says before turning on his heel to head back to the stove.

Pretty? He thinks you’re pretty. You already know you’re going to think about this for days. The word replaying in your head in his adorable accent. You hate this. Having a crush on someone who barely even pays you any mind. He pays you the smallest compliment that means the world to you while he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. Sometimes you wish he would just tell you to fuck off so you could get over him.

His back is to you now, so you can’t see the smile that’s spread across his face. You can’t see the nervousness he feels, trying to come across as nonchalant. He doesn’t let himself say anything further- you’re at work, and he doubts you want to be hit on in the middle of your shift. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He assumes any advance would be unwelcome- he doesn’t want to be that guy. The line cook who hits on one of the servers. But god, does he want to ask you out.

He will never admit it, but seeing you is what he looks forward to most when he comes back to work each night. He needs to hide the blush that forms on his face when you ring in a ticket with just a smiley face, your own way of subtly asking for an order of free fries. He always obliges, he could never say no. The way your eyes light up when he hands you the plate? He’ll never get sick of it. He’ll sneak you as many free fries as you want.

He’ll also never admit that he thinks about you even when he’s not at work. You take up every inch of his brain and he finds himself thinking about what you’d be doing if you were right next to him. When he makes dinner for himself and his grandmother every night, he wonders if you’d like the dishes. If you’d make conversation with her like you do with all of your coworkers. Giggling at something funny you’d say because you always seem to make yourself laugh. He really likes that about you.

And maybe sometimes he lies awake at night because all he can think about is what it would feel like to have you wrapped up in his arms. He wants to bury his face into your neck and breathe in your scent, holding you close to assure that he’s not dreaming. What he would give to be able to do unspeakable things to you, to have you in every position imaginable as he-

“Igor!” He hears a voice, one of the other line cooks calling his name and from the way it’s spoken, he can tell it’s been said many times. He turns to Aubrey and she’s holding his hand, blood dripping from his middle finger. Well, that’s the last time he daydreams while chopping vegetables.

“I’ll clean this up, you go get cleaned up.” His mind is fuzzy as he nods, holding his finger as tight as he can, trying his best to not watch the blood. He’s never liked looking at it. It makes him feel sick, woozy. So he hurries to the sink as fast as he can to wash his hands yet again.

The cut is deep and he can’t even see if he’s washed off all of the blood because he just can’t look at it. The whole thing makes him sick to his stomach and he even goes as far as closing his eyes, shutting them tight because the soap is burning.

He knows that he probably (definitely) looks stupid, but he can’t help it. It’s not like you’re just going to waltz in and help him, even though that’s what he really wants. He wants you to baby him, knowing that will make him feel better.

As if you sense Igor’s need for you, you enter the kitchen, standing right next to the sink as you grab some lemons for one of the tables, cursing under your breath about how rude they were to you. You happen to catch sight of Igor as you pass and let out a chuckle at how goofy he looks, his eyes shut tight as he faces you. He’s always so serious so it’s amusing to see him like this.

“What are you doing?” You ask and his eyes are wide open and he gasps, stepping away from you, clearly in his own little world, having no idea that you were standing so close to him.

“Washing my hands,” he replies, pressing himself against the wall and you catch sight of his finger that has a huge chunk missing.

“Igor,” you gasp and reach for his hand, bringing his middle finger closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. “What happened?”

“I cut it.”

“Yeah, no shit. But how?”

“Was too caught in my head and I chopped my finger instead of carrot.”

“Here, let me help you.” You keep holding his hand as you reach above you for the first aid kit. Once you have it, you set it on the sink and rifle through it before grabbing what you need. He sees you opening an alcohol pad and shakes his head furiously.

“No.” Is all he says and you feel bad for laughing but seeing this side of him is so goddamn adorable.

“Baby, we have to.” Baby, god. He’ll do whatever you want if you keep calling him that. He just slumps his shoulders and closes his eyes as he feels the wet cloth touch his skin, wincing at the feeling as you apologize again and again. “Okay, you can open your eyes. Bad part’s over.”

He does as you say even though you both know he doesn’t believe you then take some of the antibacterial gel and put it on the cut before wrapping it up in a bandaid. To finish it off, you press a kiss to it, watching his cheeks turn bright pink as you do so.

“Alright, you’re all set,” you pat his shoulder and turn on your heel like you didn’t do the one thing that’s going to live in his head rent free for the rest of his life. You kissed him. Well, his finger. But it still counts in his mind. And it even left behind some of your lipstick that he spent far too long staring at.

How can he go back to work after this? How can he move on after experiencing the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to him? He can’t believe that this is his life and that he actually exists at the same time as you. But of course he just has to crush on the girl who only flirts with him because it’s part of the job. Part of him wishes that it was genuine because then maybe he’d flirt back. But he supposes he should just stop complaining and take what he can get.

You grab your lemons and Igor is so close to asking for another kiss but decides against it. He’s still afraid of coming off like a creep and he doesn’t want to start now when he’s only gotten a sliver of what he’s been wanting for months. He’s wondering about just how much flirting he can get away with because he just wants you to know that this whole thing isn’t one sided.

Because after that you surely have to have feelings for him too, right? Not many people would do that kind of thing for him, but he’s wondering if he’s just reading too much into the interactions you’ve shared. The winks through the window, the fries, the little inside jokes you’ve made on occasion.

But he doesn’t do anything else, he just lets you walk back out as he goes back to chopping, trying his best to pay attention to his task so he doesn’t hurt himself again. He almost passed out at the sight of the blood so he’s sure he really would collapse if he saw more blood.

You head back out into the seating area feeling like such an idiot. Why did you kiss his finger? You were already crossing his boundaries by helping him without asking and then you let your want, your need to kiss him take over and settled for his finger instead of his lips. And now he probably thinks you’re a freak and you’re back to square one.

You wait on your tables and feel your cheeks burn as you bring your tickets to the window, not being able to look Igor in the eye. He must sense that you’re upset because you see him set a plate with a large pile of fries onto the counter and just by the size of the plate and the little ketchup smiley face on the edge of the plate, you just know that they’re for you.

You look up and he’s sporting his signature smirk as he flips the hamburger he’s got in his pan. You set them to the side and figure you’ll just eat them later even though they won’t be good. As much as you want to take your much deserved break, you know that Todd will look at the time clock and see that you clocked out for your lunch too early. So you just continue to serve your tables and try not to think about how hungry you are or when the last time you ate was.

You start to feel a little lightheaded but ignore it and try your best to ignore how much your stomach is growling. You have a job to do. But as you continue moving around the diner, you progressively get weaker, your legs feeling like jello.

When you come into the kitchen to get drinks for the table that just showed up, your knees buckle and Igor can immediately tell that you’re not feeling well. His current task is abandoned and he rounds the counter, heading for the drink station where you're standing. The drink you’re filling one of the cups with is overflowing and Igor quickly moves it to the side before turning you around to face him.

You almost look sick and just by hearing your stomach growl loudly, he immediately knows what you need. He picks you up and sets you on the counter since he knows you can’t stand then wordlessly hands you a bowl that’s filled with spaghetti. You’ve been talking about how you’ve been craving it for days and seeing that Igor went out of his way to make it for you makes you want to cry.

“Igor-”

“Thank me later. Eat.” He points to the bowl and you do as he says, slowly twirling the spaghetti around the fork before putting it into your mouth. He watches you look around for Todd, clearly on high alert until you feel Igor’s hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Of course you would say that. He loves you, meanwhile he always wants to make my life a living hell.” Igor knows all about that and has had private conversations with Todd about you on multiple occasions, telling him to dial it back or else he’ll quit. But that never goes over well since Todd always waves him that it’s none of his business and then says something xenophobic that would definitely get him fired if anyone else heard him. But Igor refuses to let Todd get to him.

He doesn’t tell you that Todd actually tolerates Igor and only ever pats him on the back when you’re around because he knows just how important you are to the diner and all of the regulars. And if he loses you, he’s going to lose so much money. If it had been up to him, he would have fired Igor a long time ago.

You eat your spaghetti as Igor gets back to work, occasionally checking on you, his cheeks burning every time you compliment him, telling him that this is the best spaghetti you’ve ever had. His food gets complimented all the time but hearing it from you, it makes him feel all warm and gooey inside.

Being around you makes him feel like himself. Even though he’s hiding it from you, he still appreciates how warm and welcoming you are. You’re so sweet to him and always treat him like a normal person despite how much he struggles with English.

The next week, there’s two girls who take seats at the counter and you recognize them almost immediately. They had come in last weekend during a lunch rush and held up a table for hours and then didn’t leave you a tip. You try your best to put on your best customer service smile as you walk behind the counter with a couple of menus. You greet them politely and ask if you can get them drinks. You’re ignored so you say you’ll be back in a minute.

From across the dining room, you can see them huddled close together talking- giggling hushed whispers. You can’t prove it, but it’s one of those things that you can just tell immediately what they’re doing. The girl on the right, points to the kitchen and your gaze follows where she’s pointing. Your heart drops when you see they’re talking about Igor.

Irrational jealousy bubbles up inside you, not wanting this girl to be interested. You have no right to be upset. As far as you know, Igor is single and can date whoever he wants. It’s not really your business. However, it still stings. Returning back to them, you grab your drink orders and head back to get them their coffees.

“You have a fan club out there,” you joke to Igor, who you seem to have broken his own train of thought. His brow furrowed in confusion. “That girl,” you say, being discreet, “the one sitting at the counter with her friend- I think she’s into you.”

“Oh,” Igor says, monotone. He couldn’t have been more disinterested. He doesn’t even pay them any mind, continuing to prep the meals for another table. He’s completely in his own world when he’s focused in the kitchen.

You’re pleased when it seems like he doesn’t care, but then you worry that he’s just trying to play it cool. Maybe he is actually interested in her but doesn’t want to talk about it with you. You try your best to let it go, and try to not compare yourself to her.

“What’s his deal?” The girl asks you, biting her lip. It makes your stomach tie in knots. You want to slam the window of the kitchen shut so they can stop staring at him.

“The cook?” You ask, stuttering a little- surprised they’re asking you about him so directly. She nods, staring past you to look at him. You could scream.

“Mhm,” she muses.

“Um, I’m not really sure,” you say. “Do you guys want to order something to eat?”

“Him, preferably,” she jokes and you cringe as her friend giggles. When you don’t laugh, they just order some sandwiches and you ring in their ticket. When they leave, she leaves a note on the receipt, asking you to give him her number. Great.

“Here,” you say, trying to hide your hurt as you hand Igor the receipt paper. His eyes narrow as he doesn’t even notice the note at first.

“They tipped like shit,” he muses, sympathizing with you. He hates that people don’t always appreciate you or your work. He doesn’t even realize that you’re trying to show him something else. It’s been a long shift and he’s overtired.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, surprised- you hadn’t even thought to see what they had tipped. “No, but here,” you point to the note on the bottom. “It’s for you.”

Igor squints, trying to read the handwriting. His expression remains neutral. He shrugs, and crumbles it up and throws the note away. “You already rang it in right?” He asks, and you nod dumbly. “Then I don’t see the problem.”

“What about the number?” You ask, trying not to seem too happy that he tossed the receipts away without a care in the world.

“Who cares?” He shrugs. “It’s just a number and she’s not my type.”

“Then what is your type?” You’re surprised at how bold you’re being considering you’ve been more shy around him tonight.

“Why do you care?” He’s getting frustrated now because all he wants to do is go home and not have this weird back and forth with you. He can’t tell you that you’re his type.

“Oh, I don’t.” You’re both clocking out now and he stands next to you, patiently waiting for you to be done because the other screen is, of course, down yet again.

“Then why did you ask?” You know exactly why you asked but are too afraid to tell him. You don’t know why, though. Maybe telling him the truth would prevent the headache it’s caused you.

“I don’t know.” That’s all you’re able to say and then the two of you are silent as you head towards the back door, Igor making sure to lock up behind you before escorting you to your car. You pull your keys out of the purse then turn around to face Igor who’s still standing there, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

What’s stopping you from being honest? Sure, it may make things awkward between you, but at the same time, you’d rather have that than push down your feelings again and again.

So you step closer to him, tilting your head upwards to look him in the eye. He doesn’t know what you’re doing, but he likes being able to see your face up close. He loves being able to see every single detail and you’re cute little glasses. He thinks he prefers them.

“I like you,” you tell him, your heart now pounding in your chest. “I like you a lot and I know you probably don’t feel the same way-”

“Stop,” he puts his hand up and you’re so close to crying, terrified that he’s going to reject you and that your weird little friendship will be put to a stop. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Igor,” you roll your eyes. “We both know you don’t have feelings for me, so you can stop-” You’re not even able to finish your sentence because he’s got you pinned against the car, his body flush against yours as he presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

You gasp into his mouth but are quick to catch up, kissing him back with the same amount of longing and passion. It’s months of pent of feelings poured into the kiss, everything you’ve wanted to say but haven’t had the guts to.

He pulls away just a tad, his thumb running back and forth along your jaw. You just stare at him, almost dumbfounded by what just happened. You never thought this would ever be your reality so you just need a minute to sit with it.

“I hope that proved you wrong,” he whispers and you grab onto his hips, pulling him even closer.

“I don’t know, I think I need a little more,” you reply, pulling him in again for another kiss. This one is more gentle, slower, like you both are trying to savor it because you’re not sure when you’re going to share another one.

Igor pulls away again far too soon and presses his forehead against yours, trying to catch his breath again.

“Have dinner with me.” It’s less of a demand and more like him pleading. He wants this so badly, more than he’s ever wanted anything.

“Like a date?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs but you know what he means.

“Perfect. I’ll cook for you.” He’s never had your cooking so he’s looking forward to it.

“How about next week?” He’s trying to give you space. He doesn’t want to come on too strong.

“How about tomorrow?” He can’t help but smile at the fact that you can’t wait.

“We have to work,” you remind him and for a second, he completely forgot, just looking forward to seeing you outside of that tiny diner.

“After that.”

“It’s a date,” he winks and gives you one more kiss before turning on his heel and making his way towards his own vehicle, not being able to keep the smile off of his face because for once, he finally got the girl.

God why did you think you could do this? Sweat is making your hair stick to your forehead and your glasses keep fogging up as you glance into the pot trying to stir. The tutorial online made it look so easy, you thought this time you’d have luck and not burn something for once in your life. You’re up to your elbows in the mess you’ve made for yourself and you’re starting to feel defeated.

Igor told you so many anecdotes of his grandmother teaching him how to cook as he was growing up. You wanted to make something really special, so you tried to look up one of the meals he’d mentioned in passing. The blog made it seem somewhat doable but now you’re not so sure as you're fanning a towel above your head to prevent the smoke detector from going off.

You hear the buzzer go off. He’s here. Fuck. Reluctantly, you hurry over to the box on the wall to open the front door for him. You wipe your forehead and glance back over to the mess in your kitchen. You feel like you could cry. This is not at all how you imagined tonight would go at all. You knew it wouldn’t be perfect- but at least edible would have sufficed.

When you answer the door, Igor immediately can tell you’re holding back tears. Without even needing to ask he places the flowers he brought you on your entry table and takes your hands. He looks so concerned and it’s so endearing that it’s enough to make one of the tears fall, despite your best attempt to hold them back.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, scanning your face to make sure you’re not hurt. He steps over the threshold and he can smell the burnt smell coming from your kitchen.

“I’m so sorry,” you say meekly as he surveys the kitchen. The messily chopped onions, the open bottle of wine, the spilled can of tomato paste, the burnt lamb you tried to grill… when he realizes what you’re doing, it makes his heart flip.

“Were you making Khorovats?” He asks, unable to hold back his smile. You nod, not able to meet his eye. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you against his chest. No one has ever done something this thoughtful and despite not having dinner, he feels like the absolute luckiest guy in the world. His first task is to comfort you, and he rubs your back. He reaffirms that everything is okay.

“Hey, hey,” he says gently, tilting your chin up to look at him. You take a few shaky breaths as your eyes meet his. “You’re… you’re wonderful,” he whispers and then kisses your lips softly- just a small peck. “Let me help you.”

He guides you over to one of the stools by your kitchen island and has you take a seat. Like he’s been to your apartment a million times before, he finds the wine glasses with ease and pours you a glass. You watch him maneuver around your kitchen effortlessly, and he’s able to salvage something from the ingredients you hadn’t used yet.

“I really wanted to cook for you,” you say defeatedly, as you calm down. He’s always cooking at work, and you wanted to cook for him- so he wasn’t for once. Yet, here he is, on your first date doing the one thing you wanted to give him a break from. He just looks back at you, with a smile on his face.

“You’re cute,” he says, sincerely. It makes your face feel so flushed and you feel butterflies in your stomach at his compliment. It’s so simple, but it’s coming from him. You finally let yourself enjoy the moment, and watch him as he seems to throw everything together so effortlessly.

“No one has done this for me,” he continues, gesturing to the messy kitchen. To him, as much as you're embarrassed, it’s just a sign of your effort and hard work. You did all of this- found the recipe, bought the ingredients, prepared them as best you could for him. He’s just so touched by the gesture regardless of the outcome. He can’t even remember telling you about this dish, but you remembered. “It’s amazing,” he marvels.

“I literally almost set my apartment on fire,” you say, hiding your face in your hands. It makes him chuckle.

“Come on,” he insists, “give yourself some credit.”

He puts a plate together for you and you thank him. The two of you move to your small dining table, and he notices you set up with some tapered candles, like a fancy restaurant would. Everything you’ve done to try to make the night perfect just makes his heart swell. He finds you so sweet.

For so long, Igor was convinced that he was destined to be alone and just when he was giving up on love completely, you swept him off his feet, making him feel like he never has before. You’re one of the only people who truly understands him, who lets him be himself and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t feel like he has to wear his mask.

You and Igor are closing with each other yet again. It’s been the third night this week and you’re nothing but happy about it, always looking forward to getting even more alone time with your new boyfriend. You can’t believe it. He’s your boyfriend now. You thought you’d spend the rest of your time at the diner pining for him and when he kissed you in the parking lot, you were sure that you were dreaming for just a second. It wasn’t until he put his lips on yours that you realized that it was all real.

And now that you’re alone, he’s not shy about being affectionate as you wipe down the counters together. And maybe the entire thing takes you a little too long because of all of the giggling and kissing but it’s not like anyone is there to stop you. Everyone including Todd went home hours ago and now you’re sitting on the counter, Igor standing in between your legs as he kisses you like hasn’t been doing just that the moment the two of you were alone.

His hands are sliding up your bare thighs, getting under your uniform as he licks into your mouth, leaning forward as you lie back against the counter. You moan into his mouth and as his tongue moves against yours, your hands grabbing onto his shirt. He kisses his way down to your neck, your exposed chest, slowly, gently unzipping your uniform as his lips find yours again.

His hand slips into your uniform, giving one of your breasts a squeeze and you whine as he does so, caught off guard by the feeling. But it feels so good. You wonder if it’s just because you haven’t been touched by him in so long but you know it’s really because it’s him and he always seems to know what you want without even having to ask.

“So fucking pretty,” he says through ragged breaths.

“You haven’t even-seen me naked,” you suck in a breath that break up your sentence as he bites down on your neck.

“Doesn’t matter.” His breath is hot on your skin but you can still feel goosebumps rising on your arms. “You’re always pretty.” He bites down again and your nails dig into his back as you let out another moan, your panties now absolutely drenched.

He’s unbuckling his pants in a flash as you remove your underwear, neither of you even thinking about proper protection, but just wanting, needing to have him inside of you or you’re sure you’re both going to explode.

You don’t even get the chance to see his cock before it slides inside, the loudest moan falling from your lips at the sheer size of him. It hurts so bad because of your inactivity, but it also just feels so good.

He’s pumping hard and fast, making the metal counter shake back and forth, the legs knocking loudly against the floor, the whole thing squeaking as it moves, but neither of you seem to care, too engrossed in each other to even pay attention.

“Fuck,” you whine as he’s progressively getting further inside, inch by inch, practically tearing you apart. Your legs wrap around his waist as you pull his shirt off, needing to get your hands on his bare skin. You need to scratch it up to show him exactly what he’s doing to you.

He pushes everything aside as he lays you down onto the counter, vegetables now inedible and various condiment bottles and spices now spilled out all over the floor, but Igor doesn’t care. Being here with you, having you spread on the counter like an all-you-can eat buffet is so going to be worth whatever is going to be taken out of his paycheck.

Your uniform is fully open now, the zipper of it clicking against the counter as Igor continues to fuck into you, his nails digging into your thighs, making tiny crescent shapes that you know will stay there for days. You don’t seem to mind, though. He can make you bleed for you all you care. You just want him to continue to make you feel this good.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, his hands now pinning your arms to the counter. “Look at you, taking me-all of me so well.”

You’re close, you can already feel it. It’s climbing but you don’t want him to stop. He’s doing this so well, making you feel like no one else has. He knows exactly what you want-what you need without even having to ask.

“Fuck,” you moan even louder and Igor watches you proudly, a smug smirk making its way upon his face at the mess he’s made of you. With how blissed out you look, he’s already wondering what excuse he’s going to have you both make in order to not have to work tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice gentle, soft, almost a whisper. “Just like that, baby.” You’re coming down from your orgasm and he’s worn out, not only from this, but also the shift. He pulls out and pulls up his pants before hurrying over to the sink to get a warm wash cloth before cleaning you up. Your uniform is covered in unspeakable stains so Igor politely loans you his shirt, promising to let you wash it as his place where the two of you inevitably end up.

You’ve never been to his house, always winding up at your place, snuggled up on the couch. You’re giggling as you walk through the door, not even bothering to be quiet and it’s not until one of the lights in the kitchen flicks on there remembers that he doesn’t live alone.

He’s quick to stand in front of you, covering you with his body so his grandmother doesn’t see that you’re wearing his t-shirt and boxers. His cheeks are bright red as she stands on the other side of the kitchen, tsking and shaking her head before turning around to head back to her room, saying something to him in Armenian that you clearly don’t understand.

“What did she say?” You ask and Igor just waves it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, picking you up since he knows you can’t get up the stairs in your condition. “Let’s go to bed.”

Igor carries you up the stairs as if it’s nothing and you’re beginning to think that you’ve underestimated just how strong he is. Of course you wouldn’t know that with his job, but now you’re wondering what he does when he’s not there. How often he goes to the gym, his workout routine. And now you’re getting wet all over again thinking about him lifting weights, sweat rolling down his biceps.

His room is exactly what you imagined. It’s just a bed and his furniture. There’s no decorations or anything that tells you anything about him. But you kind of like it that way. It’s very…Igor.

He helps you into the bed, pulling back the blanket and sheet for you and you slip in, making yourself comfortable as he goes to the other side and gets in, scooting close to you. You turn over on your side and he pulls you to his chest, giving you a squeeze before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight,” you say, going in for one more kiss and he just smiles into it.

“Goodnight,” he replies before falling into the best sleep he’s ever had.

The next morning, Igor wakes up and you’re not there. He reaches out and runs his hand along your side and it’s cold, meaning that you’ve been up for a while. He gets up and checks the bathroom, but you’re not there. He doesn’t know why, but he’s panicking that you’re not there, hoping that you didn’t leave him in the middle of the night.

But he immediately relaxes when he hears shuffling in the kitchen. He slowly makes his way down the stairs and his heart swells when he hears laughter as he enters the kitchen. You’re sitting at the table with his grandmother, the two of you chatting over breakfast. His face breaks out into a full-on grin when he hears the two of you laughing loudly, heads throwback, expressing nothing but pure joy.

“Igor,” she waves him over from where he’s standing, leaning against the doorframe. “сидеть,” [“sit”] she gestures to the chair that’s across from hers. He makes his way over and stands behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, his hands giving your shoulders a squeeze before he sits at the table.

“You didn’t wake me,” he tells you, the worry back on his face.

“I’m sorry. You just looked so peaceful. And you were snoring so I didn’t think I should.” He feels like his heart is going to burst at how sweet you are to him.

“Don’t apologize. I was just worried.”

“Aww.” You reach over and pinch his cheek which seems to make his grandmother laugh.

“она мне нравится,” [“I like her”] she says, looking back and forth between the two of you. “она хороша для тебя.” [“She is good for you”] “ты кажешься счастливее.” [“You seem happier”]

“я счастливее,” [“I am happier”] he replies, resting his hand on top of yours, his eyes lighting up as he puts on a warm smile.

“Я тоже счастлив,” [“I’m happy too”] you speak up and Igor’s eyes widen. In the entire time that you’ve known him, he’s never heard you speak Russian, didn’t even know that you were fluent.

“You know Russian?” He asks, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“I-well, I learned it to be able to speak to you, but then got too nervous because I got insecure about my accent.” It’s at this moment that Igor is sure that he’s in love with you. That’s the only word he can think of to describe what he’s feeling. No one has ever done anything like that for him and knowing that you were willing to learn his language in order just to speak to him shows him that maybe you love him right back.

“я тебя люблю,” [“I love you”] he says, leaning forward, not even caring that his grandmother is watching because he just really needs to kiss you.

“я люблю тебя еще больше,” [“I love you more”] you reply as he presses his lips to yours, both of you smiling into the kiss before pulling away, nothing but love for each other in your eyes.

“Мое кольцо будет наверху, когда ты будешь готова выйти замуж,” [“My ring is upstairs when you’re ready to get married”] his grandmother comments and the three of you laugh even though you all know there’s a hint of seriousness in your tone.

You spend the rest of the day at his house, the three of you migrating to the couch where they both teach you how to crochet, his grandmother’s Russian program playing on the tv softly in the background.

You don’t go home until after she’s already in bed and even though Igor is going to see you tomorrow at work, he just doesn’t want to say goodbye. You haven’t been together long, but he’s always missing you when you’re not with him and he’s so close to asking you to move in with him. He knows for a fact that his grandmother wouldn’t mind and she even pressures him to ask when he brings up the idea. He asks you a week later and helps you move your stuff in the day after, the two of you so excited to start this next chapter of your lives together.

#anora #igor anora #igor x fem!reader #igor anora fan fiction #igor x reader #igor anora fic #igor anora x reader #igor x you

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munsonsmixtapes · 1 day ago

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MICHAEL CLIFFORD SOLO MUSIC????

HELLOO???

PUNKROCKMLCHAEL STAYS WINNING IM CRYINGGGGGGGG

#nobody knows what this means to me #going to go triple platinum in my house #no one knows how obsessed I was with this man in high school #I’m about to make this everyone’s problem

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days ago

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Everything That I Wanted - Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader

A love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; SMUT (piv sex; oral f and m receiving), angst, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (physical force; manipulation, coercion/guilting & isolation from peers); fighting/violence; substance use

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days ago

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Leave Us in Ruins

Eddie x reader, Steve x reader

Your relationship with Eddie becoming rocky as you discuss your future and when he begins to just tolerate you, he ends up sending you right into the arms of the person he always worried about.

cw: mention of pregnancy, Eddie and reader argue, hurt/no comfort

This is very loosely based on “Tolerate it” by Taylor Swift as well as the All Too Well short film. Special thanks to @the-witty-pen-name for letting me yap and giving me feedback!

The bed dips when Eddie’s sits on the edge, maneuvering himself so that he’s under the covers with you, pulling you to his chest. You bury your nose in his wet hair, giving it a whiff because for whatever reason, your shampoo smells a lot better on him.

His arms wrap around your tightly, giving you a squeeze like he does every night. It’s part of your nightly routine and you expect it every time he crawls into bed with you. He then follows that with a kiss to your lips, telling you how much he loves you before the two of you fall asleep.

You’re whispering in the dark even though it’s late and you both have work in the morning. But this is your safe space where you can tell each other anything. Your deepest fears. Your darkest secrets. And you know that Eddie will never judge you because that’s just not who he is.

“God, I wanna marry you,” you whisper and the giggles that have been falling from Eddie’s lips quickly fizzle out into silence and he hopes you can’t hear how loudly he’s just gulped. This is the moment he’s feared for so long and now it’s here and he doesn’t know what to say.

Bile is progressively rising in his throat and his mouth is so dry that he’s sure that no amount of water will help. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous-well, maybe he does. The idea of marriage terrifies him. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you forever, because he does. He just doesn’t like thinking about standing in front of all of your friends and family in an itchy suit, vowing that he’ll love you until death do you part.

He doesn’t get why it’s such a big deal, why everyone wants to get married. You’re already together, why spend all that money and time just for a last name change and a couple of rings. You’re already as happy as can be so why make this big life change when it really won’t alter anything at all?

“You do?” He asks, trying to play it cool, but the man is sweating bullets. He can’t just tell you how he feels right here, right now. He can’t break your heart before bed, that would be cruel. And Eddie isn’t cruel.

“Yeah,” you say, snuggling into his chest and he doesn’t even have to look at you to know that you’re grinning. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to get the courage to tell you the truth. Should be easy enough. It’s just like ripping off a bandaid. Except this one is going to hurt so bad, the kind that pulls off the scab, leaving the wound open.

But he doesn’t tell you the truth. He just says “Let’s go to bed,” and turns out the lamp, leaving you in complete darkness, wondering if it was something you said. You’re blaming yourself, hating yourself for bringing something like that up with no warning and now you just wish you could go back in time and take it all back. You didn’t mean it. You were just so caught up in your love for him that you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

But the longer you think about it, the more you realize that you didn’t actually do anything wrong. He was the one who fucked up in this situation. You told him how you felt and he just dismissed it, suggesting that you got to bed instead of acknowledging your feelings. He’s even gone as far as turning the opposite side and you didn’t even realize that he had let go of you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, the room feeling like it’s ten degrees colder and you’re freezing without his body to keep you warm. He’s slipping through your fingers and you don’t know what happened to make him behave so coldly towards you when not even ten minutes earlier, he was telling you that he loves you through fits of giggles. This is the first crack and eventually the entire thing is going to crumble into a million pieces, you can just tell.

“So you’re saying that you don’t want to marry me?” Eddie can see the tears in your eyes and it’s breaking his heart seeing you like that. You’re crying now and this isn’t one he can hug you through because this time, he’s the one that hurt you. He can’t kiss this one better and that’s what’s really fucking him up.

Something wet drops onto his shirt and it’s only then that he realizes that he’s crying too. He quickly wipes his tears then rushes to you to wipe your tears away too, but you step away, looking at him like he’s a stranger, because at this point, he is.

“It’s over, Eddie,” you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn away from him. This is it. It really is the end.

You’re getting further away and he’s running as fast as he can to get to you, but you eventually disappear into thin air. Eddie drops to his knees, sobs raking through him as he’s saying your name and the words “I’m sorry" over and over until they’ve lost all meaning.

Eddie wakes up in a cold sweat and lets out a sigh as he realizes that it was just a dream, he turns over in the bed to pull you to his chest, but your side of the bed is empty and cold. He hurries out of the bed and as he gets out of the room, he realizes that you’re just in the shower and he lets out a deep breath. So you really are still here and he didn’t fuck things up nearly as bad he thought he did.

He opens the bathroom door just as you’re turning off the water and as soon as he sees you, a wide grin breaks out on Eddie’s face, but yours stays the same. It’s weird, almost like he’s not even there at all. He reaches for the towel on the counter and hands it to you and you take it without a word. So you are mad. Message received.

You wrap the towel around your body then get out of the shower before pushing past Eddie to head to your room to get dressed for work. He follows you, completely understanding what’s going on, but he wants you to tell him so he can figure out how to fix it. In your two years together, you’ve never been this upset with him. But then again, he’s never been that much of an ass before so he supposes that he deserves it.

This is the quietest you’ve been since you’ve gotten together. There’s no sweet words shared between kisses and the worst part of it all is that you won’t even look at him. You just continue to get dressed like he’s not even in the room and with the way you’re treating him, he might as well not be. It’s so bad that you’re not even letting him pick out your shirt like you do every time he sleeps over.

“Did I do something?” Stupid question. He knows exactly what he did, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Because then he’ll realize that you’re anger is justified and then he has to accept just how badly he fucked up and he doesn’t to believe that he hurt you that badly.

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “No, you didn’t do anything,” you shake your head, putting on a smile and Eddie lets out a sigh of relief.

“But you took a shower without me.”

“That’s because someone turned off my alarm and now I’m running late.” You’re putting your shoes on as quickly as possible before grabbing your jacket and heading out the door to your room in a blur.

He’s hot on your heels as he follows you into the living area of your apartment, standing there expectantly as you put on your jacket and grab your keys.

“Lock up when you leave, yeah?” You ask, then slip out the door, not even kissing him before you go. You always kiss him before you leave. Oh, you’re pissed.

You take a deep breath as you exit the building, trying to calm yourself down so you’re bringing your anger into work. But seriously, not even an apology or acknowledgment that he fucked up? You don’t know who that guy is, but he’s definitely not Eddie. Eddie would have gotten onto his knees and begged for forgiveness.

This just doesn’t make any sense to you. You thought you really knew him, but you guess that the two years you were together were just a load of shit. You really thought you wanteds the same things but now you’re realizing that you really don’t know Eddie at all. Now he’s just a stranger to you now that you know that he never actually did want to marry you. He’s progressively becoming the kind of man he’s always claimed to hate and you’re not entirely sure what to do about that.

The living room is quiet except for the tv that’s playing a show rerun softly. You and Steve are lying on the couch. Your shirt is pushed up and his hand is rubbing your now large baby bump, looking at it so lovingly that you feel like you could melt. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart throughout your entire pregnancy. He’s just been there to help, not even asking for anything in return.

“What about Olivia?” He suggests. You’ve been suggesting baby names back and forth and this is the first one that he’s given that’s actually had potential.

“Hm,” you say. “Olivia,” you repeat. “Olivia Robin. Oh, Steve, that’s perfect!”

You wrap your arms around him and give a tight hug, pulling him as close to your body as he can despite your bump being in the way. He hugs you back instantly, burying his face into your neck, taking a chance and pressing a kiss to it. He knows it’s risky, but he just can’t take it anymore. He’s gotta show you just how he feels about you after all these years.

You pull back to look at him, your gaze shifting to his lips and he’s realizing that you want this too. Well, to kiss him, at least. Your hand rests on his cheek and you both lean in slowly until your lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and everything Steve thought it would be. He can finally go to sleep tonight knowing what your lips feel like.

He feels fireworks in the pit of his stomach and for once, it’s like everything between the two of you makes sense to him. This just feels right and he hopes that this won’t just be a one time thing.

The kitchen is silent besides the sounds of you and Eddie doing dishes. Tension between the two of you is high and you’re both so in your own heads, so convinced that you’re both right that you can’t even see the other’s side.

You can still see the scene in your head so perfectly. You can still feel his hand setting yours back down on the table, silently telling you that he didn’t want to hold it like he always does.

And he doesn’t even understand why it hurt you so badly, trying to play it off like it was nothing when it was everything to you. He sees it as simply just not holding your hand in the moment, but to you, the small crack in your relationship has become even bigger to the point where it’s almost shattered like you’ve been fearing for months.

He’s turned on some music to try and lighten the mood and it’s clear that he doesn’t even get it. He doesn’t know that what he’s done was wrong. And you’re not going to spell it out for him this time. He’s gotta figure this shit out on his own.

He takes the dish that you’re washing from your hand and pulls you in for a dance like he always does when you do dishes together. And even if you were upset with him, you’d still join in, not wanting to let the whole thing ruin the moment, but not tonight. You’re staying strong.

He’s trying to spin you around, but you just glare at him, the anger bubbling inside you like a pot that’s about to boil over.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s wrong? Eddie, you dropped my hand.” Your voice is small now, almost as if you can’t believe what you’re saying.

“Oh, that,” he says, waving the whole thing off like it’s nothing. He honestly doesn't even know what you’re talking about, the moment that you clearly so vividly remember that Eddie has absolutely no recollection of.

“Yeah, that.”

“I just didn’t want to hold your hand. Why are you being so dramatic?” That’s the final straw. Dramatic? Oh, if he wants dramatic, you’re going to give it to him.

You slip your hands out of his and watch his face fall then screw up into offense.

“Not so fun now is it?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you cross your arms over your chest. “Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?”

“I don’t know, okay?” He asks, getting progressively more frustrated, just wishing that you’d drop it already. “I was just trying to have fun with my friends. Is that so wrong? I-I don’t know what the fuck you’re even talking about. You’re acting weird, y/n.”

“I’m not acting weird, you are. I mean, who the fuck even are you? Because the Eddie that I know would have held my hand the entire night and made sure to include me in his conversations, but you’re some stranger now so I guess I should lower my expectations.”

“What the fuck is going on with you? Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what? I’m upset by something that you did and now you’re trying to convince me that what I’m feeling is wrong.”

“You’re acting like a real bitch. God, it’s like I don’t even recognize you anymore. All you do now is complain about what I’m doing when you’re just setting your expectations of me too high.” The anger is building progressively and you can’t believe he’s trying to flip this on you. What have you done to Eddie except love him despite his flaws?

You only realize what you’ve done when you see Eddie press his hand against his cheek. It all happens so fast that you’re staring at each other in shock. Neither of you expected it, you least of all. You’re usually pretty good at keeping your cool, but hearing him call you a bitch filled you with a rage that you’ve only seen but never actually experienced until now.

With that, you turn on your heel, tears streaming down your cheeks, blurring your vision so that you can barely see when you run into Steve by the stairs.

You throw yourself into his arms, desperate for a shoulder to cry on. He’s been there for you your entire life, the one person who you can feel like you can go to for anything. He’s been so helpful these past few months as your relationship with Eddie has gone up in flames.

He holds you and runs his hands up and down your back the way he knows you like as he just lets you cry. He doesn’t think he should say anything right now. He already knows what happened and is sure that you just want a shoulder to cry on, no advice.

“Sorry, sorry,” you sniff as you pull away, grimacing when you see that you’ve gotten snot on his shirt.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “Do you want to crash on my couch tonight?” All you can do is nod and he takes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before leading you out the front door, making sure to shoot Eddie a glare who’s watching the both of you from the kitchen. Eddie flips him off then storms towards the front door and slams it as soon as the two of you are outside.

Fuck this, he thinks. You two deserve each other. Even though Steve is his friend and even introduced him to you, Eddie’s always been worried about him and you being alone together. He trusts you, but he’s always been scared that Steve’s going to make a move with him being in love with you and all. He’s always afraid that one little moment between the two of you is going to be the reason why you’ll break up with him and he knows he deserves it.

He’s been nothing but a dick, progressively pushing you away more and more as the months have gone on. He’ll get into bed long after you’re asleep and will be gone before you get up. It’s like he’s purposefully ignoring you and he can’t figure out why. It’s like he knows this isn’t working and he wants to ignore the inevitable as long as he can. He can’t lose you. He just can’t. But seeing you leave with Steve, his jacket draped over your shoulders, it makes him realize that he’s pushing you into someone else’s arms and he’s going to beat himself up about this for the rest of his life.

You’re asleep when Steve pulls up to his apartment building having cried basically the whole ride there. The whole situation with Eddie clearly took a toll on you so he decides to let you rest, picking you up as gently as he can as he carries you inside the lobby.

He’s staring down at you as you sleep and hates how much he desperately wants to be the one to do this every night. But he lost his chance and then was forced to watch you fall in love with his other best friend while he had been pining for you for the majority of his life. And he loves that you’re happy but he’s still wondering what it would be like to be yours. But he doesn’t want to get between the two of you so he just sits on the sidelines and watches the two of you fall even more madly in love with each other as the days go on.

And he feels so selfish for feeling that way but he can’t help it. He’s been in love with you his entire life and has watched you date all of those other people, not even considering him to be an option. And it breaks his heart even more every time. Why isn’t he good enough for you? What has he done to make you not see him in a romantic sense?

He shakes the thought and gets to his apartment, struggling to get the door open but when he finally gets it, he carries you straight to his room, trying so hard not to wake you up. He lays you down onto the bed and takes off your shoes before putting the blanket over you and turning off his lamp.

Once he’s sure that you’re settled, he heads back out to the living room and grabs a blanket before lying on the couch, his bed for the night. He then turns on the tv to have some background noise, tossing and turning the entire night like he always does. Steve doesn’t think that he’s ever had a good night’s sleep in his life so why does he think tonight will be any different?

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee that wafts into the bedroom that you immediately recognize as Steve’s. Of course he would insist that you take the bed while he sleeps on the couch. That’s just the kind of guy he is.

You get up and realize that you’re still in your dress from the night before. You must have passed out before you could borrow some of Steve’s clothes. You pull back the blanket and head into the kitchen where Steve is at the table eating a bowl of the cereal you remember the two of you eating as kids.

You sit down across from him and take a deep breath, preparing to tell him what you had been mulling over for weeks, months even. It had to come to this eventually right? These past few months have been so rough and as much as you don’t want things to end, you know they have to. They can’t keep going on this way. It’s not good for you and it’s certainly not good for Eddie.

It was a long time coming, you think, as Steve pours you a cup of coffee, fixing it with just the right amount of cream and sugar. He knows you so well and it hurts so much that you thought Eddie did too. You really thought he wanted to build a life with you. But now all of the fantasies of the two of you at the altar and rocking cradles are all being packed up into boxes along with the Eddie you thought you knew.

You don’t even know who he is anymore. Now all he seems to care about is getting promoted at the record store where he works and doing gigs with his band. He’s not making time for you anymore, not even leaving space for you in his bed when you come over, lying directly in the middle. It’s almost like he’s purposely trying to cut you out of his life and it hurts even more knowing that you were the one who did all of that for him. You got him the job at the record store. You lined up all of those gigs for him and now it’s almost like he’s tolerating you.

“I’m breaking up with Eddie,” you tell Steve, almost too quickly, but you’re just trying to rip off the bandaid. The quicker the better. But as you rip it off, the wound starts to bleed, badly, so overwhelmed with the pain and the finality of your words that you just sit there, silently pleading Steve to respond.

He’s so shocked by your words that he ends up letting the coffee overflow and spill out onto the table. You’re quick to stand up and hurry to the sink to grab some paper towels and wet them before coming back to clean up the mess because he’s clearly too stunned to do so.

“You’re what?” He asks as he sits back down, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. He knew you were going through a rough patch, but you didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant a breakup. God, this is going to kill Eddie.

“I’m breaking up with Eddie,” you repeat as you continue to wipe up the spill, more confidence in your voice this time. You say the words so nonchalantly as if you’re telling him what you’re going to order for lunch. This is big news and it’s almost like you don’t even care.

“I thought things were getting better.”

“Well, they’re not,” you huff, maybe scrubbing the table a little too hard and now Steve is concerned that you’re going to remove the finish. “You saw the way he treated me last night, Steve. I deserve better.” It’s so jarring having his own words thrown back in his face. He’s told you that so many times with other guys, but he never expected to hear it coming from you about Eddie of all people. This is all too much to take and now he suddenly feels the need to lie down.

He doesn’t know why it seems like he’s the one who’s being broken up with. Maybe it’s because in a way, he is. When it comes down to it, he’s eventually going to have to pick a side. And as much as he loves Eddie, you were there first. God, he feels like a child whose parents just told him that they’re getting divorced.

He’s already going over in his head about what he’s going to say to him, how he’s going to be there for you, how mad Eddie’s going to be. He doesn’t care about that, though. Steve was your friend first and the two of you are a package deal. Eddie knew that going into this.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. This fucking sucks. I-I really thought you were going to be together forever.”

“Me too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes. Steve turns you to face him and wipes your tears with the pads of his thumbs before standing to pull you into his arms, rubbing your back sympathetically as he lets you cry into his chest. For the first time in years, it’s going to be the two of you and even though he should be happy, he just can’t be knowing that you’re so broken up about the whole thing.

Three minutes. Three minutes until you get your life altering results. You stand at the bathroom counter, breathing in and out deeply as you look at the little test in front of you. You stare at it, hoping that the results will show up sooner but you still have over two minutes left.

The anticipation is killing you and you’re not sure how you’re going to cope if it’s not what you want. You’ve always wanted kids; being a mother is something you’ve wanted to be your entire life and knowing that that tiny stick is holding your future is starting to make you sick.

The floor in the hallway creaks and you turn to your left and see Steve leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest as he gives you a wide smile. He then enters the bathroom and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He reaches towards the counter to turn the timer against the wall before lifting his head to smile at your reflection. It’s all teeth and it reminds you of his old school pictures, always smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” he says, his tone nothing but loving.

“You don’t know that,” you roll your eyes. “It could be negative.” Steve laughs at that. You’ve been like this all morning, waiting for him to get home from work so he could be there when you took the test. There was no way he was missing this.

“I’m sorry, I’m just excited.” He has been looking forward to this probably more than you have. He’s wanted kids just as much as you have and now he’s going to have a chance to raise one with the woman he’s loved since he was six years old. He’s dreamed about this for years and can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

“Well of course you are,” you turn around to glare at him. “You’re not the one who has to carry the thing for nine months.” You didn’t even think about getting pregnant this soon. You wanted to be settled down first, married, even. But one missed period later even after being so careful, your life is about to change one way or another. Even though you can’t even imagine having a baby right now, you keep thinking about how heartbroken you’ll be if it’s negative.

“No, but I can get one of those fake stomachs if that will make you feel any better.” Steve has been there with you through everything. As soon as you told him that you missed a period, he ran to the store and got you the best pregnancy test on the market, according to an employee he asked. And then he went to work at the bar before you could take it so here you are at five in the morning, not-so-patiently waiting for the results.

“I’m sorry, you’re being sweet. I’m just nervous. There’s so much riding on this and-” the timer goes off and it’s like everything is in slow motion. You turn to the text and cover your eyes before holding it out to Steve who has to put his glasses on to even see it. The gasp he lets out makes everything so obvious and you have to turn the test around to confirm that he’s not just fucking with you. But sure enough, there it is, the faint pink plus sign. The one you wanted so badly to see.

“Congratulations, mama!” Steve says as he picks you up and spins you around, giggles pouring from both of your mouths. This is it. You’re getting exactly what you wanted and you get to do it with your best friend. The only person you can imagine spending this next chapter of your life with. For the first time in years, you’re finally starting to feel like yourself and nothing, absolutely nothing can change that.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff

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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days ago

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I’ve been WAITING for this one, turn it up!!

Everything that I Wanted (5)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (piv sex, m masturbation); angst, language, substance use; depictions of a toxic relationship; therapy

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours for reading this for me & letting me yap to you.

Series Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Life was changing and it was all happening quickly before Eddie had his I made it moment. The record deal had meant for a really sudden move, whisking Corroded Coffin to the heart of New York. He’d always imagined living anywhere but Hawkins. Never in a million years did he think he’d actually get out. Yet, here he was carrying boxes of his vinyls and clothes into his penthouse apartment. A place he got to share with you- give to you. Listening to you talk excitedly about the plans you had to make this space feel like yours and his? That was the moment he knew.

Eddie insisted on breaking in the new place. And you happily obliged. Eddie ate you out, laying your body down on your kitchen island until your legs were shaky. He bent you over the new couch before it was even fully assembled. He had you on your knees in the shower, his hands tangled in your hair as you swallowed everything he gave you. With swollen lips and messy hair, the two of you ate pizza straight from the box sitting crossed legged on the floor and talked about nothing.

Before either of you realized how fast time was flying by, you found yourself in the front row of Corroded Coffin’s first sold out show. Their first album was a record breaking success- just like you always knew it would be. Eddie’s schedule was getting so busy, between meetings with management teams, interviews, photo shoots… He was always so exhausted when he came home. However, it was everything he ever worked towards- these were the commitments he willingly took on. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

You’re pressed up against the barricade, the crowd around you roaring with excitement- the energy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was exhilarating, seeing thousands of people finally seeing Eddie and your friends exactly like how you’ve seen them. It was incredible to see them getting everything, all of the love, you’ve always known that they’ve deserved. When they finally took the stage, the crowd was so loud- it was a sensation Eddie could see himself becoming addicted to. Your eyes never left him, he was so completely captivating- his confidence, his voice, his fucking hands when he played his guitar.

“I just want to thank everyone for coming out tonight,” he says into the mic, as they near the end of their set. “Just, fuck- we’re from a small ass town in Indiana and never in my fucking life did I ever think we’d play a crowd this big.” The crowd erupts into loud cheers and you feel that you’ve lost your voice from singing and yelling along the entire show. Your hands are sore from how hard you’d been clapping. “Um, yeah,” Eddie says, clearly speaking off the cuff, “But there’s one person here tonight- and we just wanted to take a second to thank her.”

Eddie scans the front row, trying to find you again despite the harsh stage lights. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he winks. He chuckles to himself, before finding the mic again. “My girlfriend- the gorgeous girl over there in the front row? She has been our number one fan since day one- supported us no matter what. Whether it was listening to us rehearse in Gareth’s garage when we sounded like shit, or helping us lug equipment in and out of shitty bars during awful time slots- I just, we wouldn’t be here performing for you and doing what we love without her.”

“All the lyrics you sang along to tonight… they’re about her. Every love song, everything I’ve written- it all comes back to her. She’s my muse- always has been. Long before she even knew how I felt- God, she’s just my everything.”

He picks the mic off of the stand, walking with his hand in the back pocket of his black jeans. He’s making his way over towards you, and for a moment- it feels like it’s suddenly just the two of you. The crowd is screaming, and cheering but you can’t hear them- it’s like it’s all fading into the background. “I love you, sweetheart,” Eddie says sincerely, a shy smile gracing his pretty face. He can’t hear you because it’s too loud, but he can see your lips move as you return the sentiment.

He leans over, bowing his torso down so he can have his face closer to yours. He holds the microphone up, so everyone can hear what he is about to say, but all he’s looking at is you. He says your name, and it makes your heart skip. Is he?

“Will you marry me?”

You feel tears well in the corner of your eyes, you’re so overwhelmed with emotion that you’re momentarily stunned. You can’t help yourself as you stare at him and smile like an idiot. You manage to nod your head, and you manage a coarse “yes.” His eyes brighten, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, careful to not fall off of the stage. The screams from the crowd are deafening, as Jeff and Grant encourage them to yell louder as Gareth bangs on his drums celebratorily.

Time feels much slower when you’re living alone, working to make your rent by picking up overtime at every opportunity. That was Billy’s new life that he felt like he was adjusting to well enough. As long as he’s keeping himself busy, he can do his best to fend off the loneliness. It surprises him how much the isolation he craved is slowly eating at him. No one here knows him. He makes small talk with the other mechanics, and he’ll go with the guys from work to the bar some nights- it’s just all so superficial.

Most nights he’s just home, staying up late watching tv because he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Falling asleep on his couch night after night is messing up his neck but he can’t bring himself to go to bed. He doesn’t want to lay in bed in the quiet. He’ll take the stiff neck and sore arm any day over the nightmares he can’t seem to shake.

He’s dozing off when he hears something that makes his ears perk up. It’s some award show, he’s not really sure which one- something music related. He sits up, rubbing his sore eyes as he forces himself to stare at the glow of the tv. Standing together on the red carpet, he doesn’t believe his eyes- you and Eddie. He’s convinced he’s dreaming, his exhausted mind playing tricks on him.

You look so different, but he knows he’d recognize you anywhere. These past couple of years have been good to you- you’re absolutely stunning. He can’t believe that you’re the same girl he once knew- or thought he knew. Suddenly, he feels like he’s back on the pavement where Eddie knocked him down. The sting suddenly feels fresh again.

The dress you're wearing is showing off your body, and he smiles to himself for just a second as he witnesses the confidence you’ve gained. It’s almost compulsive, the way his mind shifts, not letting him dwell on anything that he’s feeling. He can’t interpret how he feels, he can’t let himself acknowledge anything. He instead focuses his eyes on you again, raking over your body, and remembering how it felt.

God the things he’d wanted and never got with you. He’s too tired and lonely to think about what he’s doing when he pushes his boxers down. He spits in his hand, and pumps his cock- watching you in that fucking dress. He doesn’t even give a fuck that Eddie is there, that he’s the one who actually gets you and touches you like how he wants. He’s so focused on you and desperate for a little release. He’s picturing how he’d peel off that dress, mess up your styled hair, and make your makeup run.

He can practically feel you, perched on his lap. He can imagine the silk of your dress on his fingertips as he holds the soft flesh of your hips. He can hear your sounds, the way you respond to his touch. He can feel the way your chest pressed against his, your hands tangled in his hair. He bites his lip, continuing to pretend his hand is you, as he focusing his eyes back to the tv.

That’s when he notices the ring on your finger. He shouldn’t let himself go there- but for the briefest of moments the thoughts slip past. What if it was him? What if instead, you were marrying him? For the shortest of moments he leans into that fantasy and before he can even anticipate it, he’s panting and finishing on his stomach and on his hand. He feels immediate regret when the loneliness creeps back in. He shouldn’t have fucking done that.

He needs something- he knows he needs help. See someone about his problems or whatever. He begins going to therapy, every Tuesday morning- begrudgingly, even though he wants to be there. He sits on the uncomfortable couch awkwardly, faced with questions about his childhood and his issues that he hates being confronted with. Sometimes, he says practically nothing in his sessions and sometimes the 50 minutes is up before he even realizes it. This most recent session left him feeling furious.

He’s angry. He’s angry with his dad, he’s angry at Eddie, he’s angry at you- just upset about the world and his life. He’s pissed at the hand he was dealt, how much it fucked him up. He can’t let himself feel anything. His therapist suggested that he uses sex as a mechanism. A means to avoid his own thoughts- an escape to prevent him from feeling anything for too long. It hit a sore spot with Billy, because deep down, he knew it was right, but he didn’t want to admit to it.

So he slips right back into the routine, after work he meets up with some guys at the bar. He drinks until he can barely function, and finds the first girl who is willing to sleep with him. He doesn’t even learn her name before he’s guiding her head down to suck his dick. He just needs to feel something- anything other than the thoughts he’s running from. She’s good- really good. He can close his eyes, lean his head back against the locked door and think about nothing.

He continues the cycle. He continues to go to therapy, even though he’s not sure why. He ignores any advice his therapist offers. Any attempt to break down his walls, just leaves him feeling even more defensive and angry. He’s smoking more- at least a pack a day, drinking more, and the hook-ups are becoming a regular part of his routine. Most nights, he’s bringing someone home- to kick them out almost immediately after. He can’t sleep in a bed with someone else, not when all he can see or think about is you when the night finally stills.

All of it worked for a while, the distractions keeping the thoughts at bay. But it was as though he was building up a tolerance to it all. And they couldn’t numb him as well as they used to. Before he knew it, he was seeing you everywhere- and the guilt of how he treated you was eating him alive.

Suddenly, the girls in his bed all look like you- he can’t shake the image of you from his mind. He was never that vocal in bed, but now he needs to stop himself from moaning your name. Then, it begins to show up at his job. At the shop, he was speaking to a woman on the phone about her car and she sounded like you. Then, he sees you at the bar in every girl even though you aren’t there. There’s a girl with her back to him, chatting with someone, and he has to stop himself when he realizes yet again, she’s not you.

It started to get really bad when he began seeing you in his dreams. Sometimes it would be innocent enough, you’d be like passing extra in the background and he couldn’t even be totally sure it was you. Other times, it would be debauched- him fucking you roughly into his mattress, watching tears prick in the corner of eyes as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes. Then, the dreams become nightmares. His guilt bubbling up to the surface and he’d be forced to face it head on.

In his dream, the memory of how much he scared you floods back. Your scared, timid demeanor and he doesn’t know what he said or did to make you look like that. The dreams don’t make sense, they just make him feel panicked. He always wants to apologize, speak to you- say anything, but in his dreams, the words always fail. It’s like he’s paralyzed, feeling trapped in one place as the memories swirl and distort around him. Sometimes Eddie’s there- both of you, laughing and belittling him for how pathetic he’s become. The two of you gang up to kick him while he’s down, and he knows that he deserves it so he lets it happen.

“So how long had you been seeing this girl?” His therapist asks, jotting down some notes as Billy just finished recounting everything- finally laying it all out on the table. He couldn’t take it anymore. He tells him everything.

“Uh, the first half of my senior year of high school.” Billy says, wiping his face with his hands, trying his best to remember the timeline of events. “Just a few months, really.”

“That’s not really a long time,” he muses, and Billy fights the urge to roll his eyes. No shit. “Why do you think she had that much of an impact? Is there something you feel guilty about?” Billy shrugs, not knowing how to even begin the explanation. He knows how he feels, he knows he was wrong- but how do you communicate that- that feeling.

He’s so frustrated, everything just piling up inside him, and he can’t fucking put it anywhere. His mind just goes blank whenever he tries to put it into words. He hates sitting with this feeling, and he’s fighting back the urge to storm out. He shakes his leg anxiously, wanting badly to rush outside so he can smoke.

Despite the elaborate proposal, you and Eddie wanted a really simple wedding. Corroded Coffin had been everywhere, and they’d been working such long hours. Eddie was constantly doing press, or working late nights in the studio. You both wanted the day to be as relaxed as possible. Eddie and you decided to go home, a trip to Hawkins to flee the paparazzi and the responsibilities of life. Plus, you hadn’t seen the house Eddie had built for Wayne in person yet.

The backyard was gorgeous, with lots of trees and a garden Wayne had taken on as a project. It was perfect, and you found yourself thinking about how much it felt like home. The hats that lined the walls, the photos on every surface… all of the pieces of life from their trailer finally had space to spread out and breathe in new air. It made your heart ache for Hawkins for the first time in a really long time. It felt so bittersweet being back here, even if only for a little while.

Surrounded by family and your closest friends, you and Eddie shared vows under a tree strung with fairy lights on a really warm summer night. You couldn’t look at anything else, despite the small crowd of family and friends, all you could see was Eddie. Your Eddie, with his unruly curls tamer for once and his soft brown eyes, looking back at you like you're the only girl in the world. How could you have ever thought your life would be anything besides you and him?

You’d always been someone who would think anywhere but here when you thought of your hometown. But tonight, it’s not so bad- wonderful even. It took moving away for you to see how much it was a part of you. Part of you, a part that you kept buried deep down, didn’t want to go back to New York, back to the busy life, the hectic schedules, the paparazzi. But, watching Eddie- smiling ear to ear talking so happily about his band, his music, how proud everyone is of him- you couldn’t take that away from him. You were so happy, you can’t imagine your life being anything else.

“I always knew it was going to be you,” Wayne says, pulling you up close to dance with you. It makes you smile widely, your grin meeting his.

“You knew?” You giggle, wondering how many people saw Eddie’s heart on his sleeve before you ever realized.

“From the very first day,” Wayne says matter of factly, pride in his voice. He glances over to Eddie, happy tears welling in his eyes. “I’m just so happy you too found each other.”

Billy rubs his temples, trying to wrap his head around what his therapist just confronted him with. How the hell is he supposed to know the answer? The impact you had? How the fuck is he supposed to answer that?

“I don’t know, she was nice to me, I guess,” Billy grumbles, “She, like, cared about what I had to say and like- wanted to show me stuff she liked.”

“Have other people in your life done that for you?” He asks, tapping the pencil on the edge of his notepad. Billy hates this format. This guy knows the answer is no, Billy knows that the answer is no. Yet, he has to sit here and act like it’s some revelation. It’s pissing him off more than anything.

“No.”

“Maybe you feel regret or guilt about something you said or did?”

No fucking shit. Billy shrugs.

“Walk me through why you broke up,” he says, his tone neutral.

“Um, she liked some other guy,” Billy scoffs, “they’re getting married now, or are married- I don’t know.”

“Is there any more? Tell me about what she said to you.”

“Um, this guy- he was like one of her friends, and like, I knew he liked her- when we were together, like I knew he wanted her and it really pissed me off. So, like, I didn’t want her hanging out with him. And we fought about that- like a lot. Then, uh, yeah- she broke up with me for him.”

“It hurts when someone you love doesn’t reciprocate your feelings,” the therapist states. Billy’s posture straightens. Panic begins to settle in. Nope, he’s not going there. “It’s normal to feel hurt, or maybe you felt betrayed…”

“No, no- I’m not in love with her,” Billy is quick to say. “It’s not that- this thing was so long ago. Trust me, it’s not that.”

“Well, it sounds like you were in love with her at one time,” the therapist recounts. “It’s sounds like you’re feeling some remorse… if you can, can you recall what happened when she broke up with you?”

Billy winces, he fucking hates reliving it. It’s been plaguing him for weeks, and even bringing it up now is making anxiety fester inside his gut.

“I scared her,” he confesses, finally saying something- finally acknowledging it out loud. “Um, she turned to walk away, and I just- I panicked, I grabbed her arm- I- fuck, I grabbed her arm really hard, it was so fucked up. But, I couldn’t think. Then, Eddie- he punched me.”

“What were you thinking when you grabbed her arm?”

“Just that I didn’t want her to leave, she just- I didn’t want her to walk away and I just panicked. I honestly, don’t really think I was thinking- it was just- I don’t know… fear.”

“What were you afraid of?”

Billy can’t answer that, there’s so much going on in his head right now. He thought therapy was supposed to be helpful but this conversation is just making him feel so much worse. He’s uncomfortable, and he can’t let himself sit here with this pain. He’s not ready yet.

What was he afraid of? Fucking everything! He’s walking around terrified all the fucking time and no one seems to care. His whole life he’s felt like this- how is he supposed to know any different? Of course he was afraid of losing the one person besides his mom to ever once show him a little bit of love…

Fuck, maybe he is still in love with you.

He practically knocks over the coffee table inadvertently when he rushes out mid session but he can’t physically take it anymore. He needs to get out of the room. He ignores his therapist telling him to stay. He’s feeling suffocated. He needs to get out of here. He needs to take his mind off of this before he spirals. He needs anything- something to just made the thoughts just fucking stop.

“Have a nice day,” he hears a sweet voice say as he’s walking out. It makes him pause. Billy knew the receptionist here would flirt with him every time, but he’s ignored it. He couldn’t do that here- he never let himself entertain the thought. He turns to smile at her. She’s pretty, and he thinks she’ll be the perfect distraction for him. He saunters over, leaning an arm on the ledge of the desk.

“I’m Billy,” he smiles, and when the blush rises on her cheeks he knows this will play out exactly like he wants.

“I’m Megan,” she smiles back at Billy. He doesn’t miss how her eyes trail down and back up his body. It makes his chest swell with pride.

Eddie’s hands haven’t left your body most of the evening. His hands slide around your waist, rub your back, or his arm rests protectively around your shoulder.

“God, my wife is so pretty,” Eddie muses, his mouth close to your ear so no one else can hear. His voice is low and gravely- making you shiver. “I love you so much,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Can’t wait to get you alone, sweetheart. I need you so bad.”

Her lips are on his the very second the door of the supply closet latches shut. Locking the door behind them, Billy’s hands work to quickly pull open her blouse. Her hands greedily run up his torso, freely exploring his toned chest. It feels good, but it’s not enough to shake the thoughts of you- not yet. He needs more.

When you’re finally alone, Eddie’s quick to lay you on the bed of your hotel room- kissing all over your neck and chest. “Love you so much, drive me fucking crazy,” he muses, his lips hot on your skin.

“Fuck, Eds,” you whine, tangling your hands in his hair. “Love you too.”

“My wife is so fucking perfect,” he mumbles against your skin, unclasping your bra and his mouth wraps around your nipple, making you moan contently.

Her skirt is bunched at her waist, and her chest is pressed against the wall of the closet. He’s trying to focus on anything except the thoughts of you that keep swarming around in his head. He tries to think about her skin, her hushed moans and whimpers, the way she’s taking his cock… but it’s no use. His thrusts become harder and more sporadic, a desperate attempt to push the thoughts away.

He closes his eyes shut tightly, and he’s drowning out her moans by placing his hands on her mouth. She responds to it well, and he smirks to himself. He’s breathing heavy and he knows he’s close. He just needs to feel the release, the pressure inside him is building up too much and he just needs those few seconds of escape to feel something else- even if briefly.

“I have such a sexy husband,” you tease, pushing Eddie down gently so his back rests against the headboard. You smirk, watching his cheeks flush red. You know you’ll never get sick of that look. You straddle his waist and his hands find your hips. Your chests pushed flushed together, holding each other close.

You sigh softly as you sink down onto his length. You rest your hands on his shoulders as you find your pace- slow and loving, taking your time to feel absolutely every part of him. He groans, his hands grabbing the flesh of your ass and squeezing. Your dress is in a heap on the floor, and his suit pieces on the ground make a trail to where you both are on the bed.

“Mhmm Billy,” she moans, trying to keep her voice down, but she’s struggling. He reaches around and teases her nipple, tugging in a way that makes her eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he pants, struggling because he feels so close but he can’t fucking finish. He’s never had this problem before. He tilts his head back, biting his lip, trying to focus on the feeling of her- how tight she is. He feels her clench around him as she orgasms.

He needs to get himself there. He can’t figure out why he’s having so much trouble. He quickens his thrusts, sweat drops down his forehead and he tries to let himself relax- he shuts his brain off, hoping to find his release he’s chasing desperately.

“I love you so fucking much baby,” Eddie whines, his lips finding that one spot on your neck that drives you absolutely wild. You gasp at the sensation as he bites down on your skin, sending shivers up your spine.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. It feels too good, it’s becoming too much. You whimper as he coaxes you through it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and rubs your back as you continue to grind against him.

“Eddie… I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your panting breath feels hot in his ear. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around you. He thrusts up into you, hitting your g spot so perfectly that it makes your jaw drop and your eyes roll back. You cry out and clench around him as you cum, it takes all of your energy so your body is like putty in his hands.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he praises. “Fuck,” he groans, his own orgasm following quickly after yours. He rests his head on your shoulder, and he kisses you there.

Shit, he’s thinking about you again. Billy can’t stop himself as he finally lets himself indulge in the thoughts. You’re with him and he imagines what it would be like if she was you. He can hear you, and imagines your voice when he closes his eyes. God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Everything about you, it just fills up all of his senses. Just like that, the familiar feeling stirs inside him. He’s so close, teetering on the edge, and he lets himself continue to fall into his thoughts.

“Fuck… baby, I love you, fuck- fuck-” he gasps, not realizing the words are spilling out of his mouth until he says your name.

His eyes widened, pulling out so quickly and tucking himself back into his pants. He needs to get the fuck out of this closet, he suddenly feels so claustrophobic- he needs to leave. He needs fresh air. He feels like he can’t breathe. He doesn’t even acknowledge Megan as she calls after him, confused at his sudden switch up.

TAGLIST: @fandom-princess-forevermore @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @spookysace24 @crispystarfishhottub @4billy @let-love-bleeds-red@supersecretsamm @e-c-a-r-l-a-t-e @melvin333 @mmmunson @daryldixonswifesworld

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #stranger things #x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days ago

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Currently on season one of supernatural and wondering if I should continue. Does it get better?

#supernatural #sam Winchester #dean Winchester

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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days ago

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Currently working on a very long fic (planning on making it at least 10-20k words) and I was wondering if y’all would like one or two parts.

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munsonsmixtapes · 4 days ago

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Closer

rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

You go to a Corroded Coffin concert not knowing any of their songs and end up catching the eyes of the lead singer.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) fingering, masturbation, fuckboy!eddie

The venue is packed as you try to get to the floor. You’re holding your purse close to you as you shuffle through the crowd. This is your first concert by yourself and you’re so hyper aware of what’s going on around you, still annoyed that security took your pepper spray when checking your bag.

You don’t even know the band that’s playing. You’re supposed to be here with a friend but she called you last minute and told you that she was sick but said to go without her. So here you are, alone, with no one but yourself to keep you company.

Eddie’s supposed to be on stage in five minutes but here he is, a girl with her head between his thighs, just like always. As nice as it is, he knows he has to go so he doesn’t even finish before pushing her off, grabbing his jeans that make his ass look great and putting them on as he promises to call her. He won’t, though. Not until he’s desperate and his hand is no longer doing the job.

He hears his band mates pounding on the door as he goes over to the vanity in the dressing room and goes through all of the stuff that’s cluttered the top, looking for his eye liner before going over what he forgot to wash off last night. He was too preoccupied by the guy he brought home from the bar to do so. It looks better this way anyway.

Once he’s done, he readjusts himself in his pants and heads out the door, fixing his hair as he heads out the hallway to find that his band was waiting for him. He’s fixing his hair, not even caring that they’re now late and it’s all his fault. It’s always his fault because he’s never not thinking with his dick.

He’s already thinking about who he’ll have next, always chasing some sort of high that has nothing to do with the coke he snorted earlier in the day now that it’s worn off. That was just to make him less anxious about the show because even after years of doing this, he still gets nervous.

Eddie blinks and he’s standing in front of his mic stand with his guitar over his shoulder. The lights go up and he watches the crowd go wild as the smoke clears and his face is now visible.

You join in and cheer because you don’t want to look weird being in the pit and having no fucking clue who’s playing on stage. You’ve heard their music before with your friend and even listened to it on the way to the concert, but now all of it has left your brain as the first song starts.

It’s easy to spot you in the crowd. Not only are you fucking hot in Eddie’s eyes, but you stick out like a sore thumb being the only person who’s not singing along. you look so lost and he wants to help you out, to make you not feel as scared as you look.

He’s not even sure if he’s singing the right words because all he can focus on is you. He’s reaching out, his hand brushing yours as he finishes the last few notes and maybe it’s the adrenaline or maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but he swears he feels a spark as his hand touches yours.

He crouches down and sings the last line before pressing his lips to your knuckles, lingering there as he looks up at you through his lashes. He’s gotten so many people with this look and he can practically hear the trap snapping as he’s caught another one.

He stays there, somehow unaware of the fact that he’s doing a concert for thousands of people and has to physically pull himself away from you to do the next song. The guys are already fed up with him but he doesn’t care. He’s convinced that he’s in love.

Your cheeks get hot as you feel eyes on you, the people all around you either glaring or seemingly happy for you since you’ve clearly gotten the attention of the lead singer. And as hot as he is, you feel so bad because you don’t even know his name. But now you want to. You want to run your hands all down his bare chest, tracing his tattoos as he whispers the most filthy things into your ear.

Eddie wants to know your name so he can replace any word he finds necessary with it. He’s sure that would make the songs he wrote when he was fifteen sound much better to his twenty-five year old self.

He’s still trying his best to focus when all he’s able to think about is what you look like naked. He just wants this whole thing to be over so he can take you back to his hotel room and have his way with you. He’s already wondering how you like it. He doesn’t know why, but he’s got a feeling that you��re freaky. The shy ones always are.

The chemistry is palpable. It’s like there’s a magnetic pull between the two of you and all Eddie wants to do is hold your hand. It’s soft and warm and it somehow fits perfectly in his. And because he cock always interrupts sweet moments, he can’t help but wonder how they would feel in his mouth as he-

“Let’s make some noise Chicago!” He says into the mic for his scheduled talking break. Everyone cheers on cue and he looks down at you, a bright smile on his face. “That’s what I like to hear. This is actually a hometown show for me. Well, sort of. We’re all from Hawkins. Anyone from Hawkins here tonight?”

You cheer and Eddie smiles even wider. This has to be fate. Has to. How could it be that you’re from the tiny little town where he grew up?

“I knew I liked you,” he says directly to you. “What’s your name?” You yell something in response but he can’t hear you so he has to pull out one of his in-ears. He even goes as far as taking off his guitar and setting it to the side so he can get onto his knees. He leans down so his ear is right by your lips and he gets goosebumps as your breath hits his skin, whispering your name in a flirty tone. God, he needs you bad.

“Y/n,” he repeats into the mic. “That’s hot. Do you want to come up and sing this next one with me?” You nod furiously and a security guard helps you navigate out of the crowd and leads you to the stage. Eddie holds out his hand for you and you take it, letting him help you up the stairs.

“Damn,” is all he says as the two of you get to the center of the stage. He lets his eyes rake over you, checking you out, staying on your legs for a bit too long, desperately wanting to have his head between them. They look so nice and soft and he just wants to dig his fingers into them as he-

“What’s your name?” You ask, your tone still flirty.

“I’m Eddie,” he replies, making his voice deeper as he speaks into the mic and you step closer to each other, completely unaware that you’re on stage in front of thousands of people.

“Eddie,” you repeat, pulling his body flush against yours. You pick up some of his hair and twirl it around your finger, making the man who’s normally a master at making people fall to his feet want to fall to his knees right in front of you. “I like that.”

“I like you,” he says, emphasizing the last word. And this time, it’s not a line. He’s obsessed with you and he hasn’t even gotten you into bed yet. You’ve completely rewired his brain and now he’s at a loss for words. You’ve somehow rendered the man who never shuts up speechless.

“Well I like you.” Your hands press against his bare chest and slide up it as you pull your lips between your teeth, staring him down with that look always seems to make men want to submit to you. He’s leaning closer and you nod your head, the man playing right into your hand.

Everything around the two of you is completely forgotten as his lips touch yours. They’re soft but chapped, not that you mind. His hands grab hold of your hips as your tongue slips into his mouth, causing him to whimper.

It’s only then that Eddie snaps back into reality. He hesitantly pulls away then brings his lips to your ear, still breathing heavily from the kiss. He doesn’t normally kiss the women he hooks up with, but he’d be perfectly happy with making out with you for the rest of the night.

“Stay after the show and we can continue this elsewhere.” You nod in response and he kisses you once more before letting you go back to where you were standing. It’s hard for him to snap back into reality, still dazed from the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your mouth that he can’t seem to shake.

Everything that happens afterwards is a blur. You don’t even remember the rest of it, imagining those pretty pink lips kissing all over your body as he whispers filthy things against your skin. You need him so badly that you can feel yourself getting progressively more wet as the show goes on.

Seeing Eddie’s body dripping in sweat makes you weak in the knees and you wonder if that’s what he looks like after sex, the messy hair and all, out of breath, thanking whoever he’s fucked over and over for having him. He’s made your mind mush and now you wonder what he has in store for you in his hotel room.

Eddie doesn’t remember the rest of the show either and the next thing he knows, he’s being escorted back to his dressing room, making sure that you’re taken care of. For once, he’s not going to get black out drunk and forget that he was going to hook up with someone. He wants to be one hundred percent sober for this. He wants to give you whatever you ask. He’s usually the dominant one, but this time, he’s gonna let you take the reins.

You both take your time touching up, Eddie fixing his hair and eyeliner that he had sweat off and you make sure your lipstick looks perfect even though you know it’s just going to get smudged anyway. You throw the lipstick and compact back into your purse then let the security guard lead you to the correct dressing room, the one that Eddie always requests to have to himself so he can hookup with his flavor of the big night and not be disrupted.

You thought you’d be nervous, but you’re actually not. You’re more excited than anything. You don’t ever do things like this and definitely not with rockstars. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you’re going to take it.

You open the door and he’s there on the couch, legs spread, his arms resting across the couch. He looks like he's posing for an album cover and you slowly make your way over to him. Your purse is tossed onto the vanity and Eddie reaches out to take your hands. He thinks you’re going to sit next to him, but you surprise him by straddling his lap, grinding against him as your lips find his. The kiss is searing and messy and Eddie feels his brain short circuit when your hands slide into his hair and give it a yank.

His hands slide up your skirt, dipping into your panties and pushing them down so he can get a handful of your ass, giving it a squeeze, his nails digging deep into your skin.

You bite down on his lip at the surprise and quickly apologize but his eyes only darken. It was an accident, but he liked the feeling, the bit of pain it inflicted. He wants you to do it again and again then swipe your tongue across it to diffuse the sting.

“You want another?” You ask and all he can do is nod. You just laugh, the sound light, almost like a giggle and it makes Eddie’s heart swell. Is it too soon to say that he loves you?

“Use your words, baby,” you tell him as your nails scratch at his scalp, making his eyes flutter shut.

“Please,” he whines and you bring your face closer to his. He’s never felt this way about anyone before. He usually just uses sex as a way to not feel lonely, but with you, he actually wants it.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You lean down and bite down on his lip again, harder this time and Eddie’s sure that he’s going to cream in his pants. You’re grinding against him which makes it even worse and he’s so hard, so needy for you that it’s actually starting to hurt.

“More,” he begs and you give him one more bite as your grinding gets more intense, feeling him getting even harder against your, his whimpers becoming louder as he begs for you to fuck him. He needs to get inside you right now or he’s sure he’s going to explode.

You get off of him and lower yourself between his legs. Just when he thinks that you’re going to take his pants off to suck him off, you begin untying his boots. They’re off in a flash and his socks come off too before you stand to your feet, kicking off your own shoes.

You help him sit up and guide his hands to the zipper of your skirt. Together, you pull it down and it pools at your feet and you step out of it. You then bring his hands up to your waist, letting them push up your tank top.

“Kiss me,” you tell him and he obeys immediately, pressing his lips to your stomach. He gets onto his knees as he pushes your shirt up higher and higher, kissing up your torso as he gets your shirt over your head.

His hands move higher, unhooking your bra as he kisses your chest, the red lipstick you had transferred to his lips leaving a trail of red marks along your body. Your bra is tossed to the side in an instant he kisses down to your now bare breasts. He peppers one one kisses as he grabs hold of the other, massaging it.

You whimper against him and he’s even harder now hearing the song. You push him away then join him on the couch, pulling him into another hot kiss before lying down on the couch. Eddie’s straddling your waist now, letting his eyes slowly rake over your bare chest.

“Fucking incredible,” he says as he leans down to bring one of your nipples into his mouth. he gives it a rough suck as you moan loudly, feeling yourself ache because of how badly you need him. You take his hand and push it down into your panties. His fingers move back and forth across your slit to tease you but you’re not having it.

“Eddie, I swear if you don’t do something now, I’ll just do it myself.” Your hand joins him and you think he’s going to make you move, but to your surprise, he takes your own fingers and shoves them inside you, making you moan even louder.

“That’s it,” he says, abandoning his current task, wanting to watch you instead. “Just like that, sweetheart.” He’s jealous beyond belief at the way you’re so easily able to pleasure yourself, but he’s actually turned on by the whole thing.

You always know exactly what you need since you do this pretty often, so used to your own fingers, but now you’re wondering how Eddie’s would feel inside of you. They’re longer than yours and you wonder what his rings would feel like, the cold metal against you, moving in and out of you. The whole thing is driving you mad, driving you closer and closer to finishing.

Just when you’re about to orgasm, he removes your fingers and puts them into his mouth, liking and sucking to remove any of the remnants of your slick from them. You finish your orgasm as you watch him, the two of you staring each other down and once he’s done, he goes in with his own fingers, wanting to stretch you out as much as possible, moving harder and faster than you previously had.

His rings feel even better than you imagined, so cold by so good. Your eyes flutter closed as he works, already close to another orgasm. You can feel it and as Eddie sees you approaching it, he moves even faster, even harder and watches you orgasm yet again, but he feels cocky since it was by his hand this time. He wonders just how many times he can get you there tonight. His record is four so this should be nothing.

“Eddie,” you whine as he gets you there, still pumping as he talks you through it, only pulling out when you’ve come down from your orgasm. He then removes his boxers and tosses them to the side, his cock hanging over you, harder beyond belief and already wet with precum, the stuff dripping onto your stomach.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says as gets rid of your panties, spreading your legs as wide as he can so he can see what he’s working with. He can see it running down your legs and chuckles to himself at how wet he’s made you. “So fucking wet. Want me to take care of you?”

“Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he replies, repeating your words from before, but they sound much more filthy coming from his mouth. “Is it okay if we don’t use a condom? I just want to feel you.”

“I want to feel you. It’s okay.” With that, he lowers himself down onto you, slipping into you just a little bit before pinning you to the couch and pounding into you. You’re moaning already and he swears he could get off to that alone.

He watches you, feeling your hips buck against his again and again, wanting to feel all of him inside you so he slowly goes inch by inch with every thrust until he’s always the way inside, watching tears prick your eyes because of how big he is.

You’re not sure how much more you can take, moaning loudly again. It’s so loud and hot that Eddie can’t help but want to hear it again, continuing to pound into you until you do it once more.

“Yes, yes, yes,” falls from your lips as you reach yet another orgasm and Eddie’s not far behind.

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say as he pulls out quickly, his cum leaking out all over your stomach, but neither of you care. It’s just an excuse for him to clean you up afterwards.

For now, he’s quick to grab some tissues from the vanity and cleans you up the best he can before lowering himself down onto you again, lying his head on your chest as you play with his hair.

You don’t stay like that for long and end up getting dressed before Eddie leads you out to the car he always has on stand by. He helps you into the backseat where you kiss the entire twenty minute ride to his hotel room.

There, you take a very long shower together and he lets you shampoo his hair before going for multiple rounds until you finally decide to go to bed. Eddie loans you one of his t-shirts and lets you crawl into bed with him where you lie on his chest and as you’re falling asleep, he definitely isn’t thinking about wanting to see you again.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson

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munsonsmixtapes · 5 days ago

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Eddie Munson Masterlist (3)

Virgin!Eddie

Just One More (18+)

Rockstar!Eddie

Closer (18+)

Proud to be Yours

Requests

You do your nightly skincare with your golden retriever boyfriend, Eddie

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff

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munsonsmixtapes · 5 days ago

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Just One More

virgin!eddie x fem!reader

You literally fall into Eddie's lap and after doing you a favor, you somehow become his first.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

The party is in full swing when you get there. This is the first one you’ve gone to alone since your messy break up and it feels weird but oddly freeing to not have anyone by your side. You had no one to answer to, to wait on and you didn’t have to worry about being abandoned so he could go talk with his friends and pretend like you didn’t even exist.

But because you have the most terrible luck, you spot him in the kitchen, flirting with the exact guy that he always told you not to worry about. This all has to be some elaborate joke that life has decided to play on you, that’s the only thing that makes sense. Well, good for them. They deserve each other.

You swear you see Johnny look your way and hurry into the living room, backing up as quickly as possible to make sure that they can’t see you, but of course, because this is all still some joke, you end up falling onto something, or rather, someone. A cute someone at that. He’s got curly, dark brown hair and the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize quickly. Instead of being offended like you assume he would be, he just smiles and it’s pretty.

“I’m not,” he says, his voice taking on a flirty tone. Maybe life is actually starting to be kinder to you.

“You’re not?” You ask, sitting up and the stranger just smiles wider.

“Not at all. It’s not everyday a pretty girl literally falls into my lap.” Your cheeks heat at his compliment and you shyly turn away, only seeing that Johnny’s eyes have locked on yours.

“Can I ask a huge favor?” He doesn’t even know you but is sure that he’d do whatever you asked. You’ve already bewitched him and he doesn’t even know your name. He always falls fast and hard and it never seems to get him anywhere. His heart always gets broken in the end.

“Anything,” he breathes, not even caring how desperate he sounds.

“My ex is over there and I really need you to kiss me,” you say, leaning closer and Eddie is standing to wonder what kind of dream he’s entered because surely something as perfect as this wouldn’t be real life, right?

“Sure,” he nods, his lips parting, and you slot yours between them as your arms wrap around his neck. One hand rests against your waist as the other cradles the back of your head.

The kiss is soft and sweet, everything you could have ever hoped for. It’s like what you’ve seen in the movies but didn’t think was real. There’s a spark there and you already feel sad knowing that you’re going to have to break the kiss eventually.

You stay like that for so long that you completely forget why you initially asked him, so caught up in his lips that you forget about everything else but him. And Eddie’s not even sure how he’s able to kiss you back since his mind is so fuzzy, no thoughts going on besides your lips.

You’re straddling his waist now, kissing his neck and all he can do is whine, wanting more, needing more. You’re whispering the most filthy things into his skin. He wants to do everything you’re asking of him. He wants to fully submit to you. To be your good boy.

“That’s a nice sound,” you tell him, your lips finding his again. “You wanna make it again? Maybe somewhere more private?”

He wants to, he really does. But he’s never done that kind of thing before. Hell, he’s barely even kissed anyone before tonight so he’s sure that he’d have no idea what to do. You clearly seem to be much more experienced than him and he wouldn’t want to disappoint you.

So he’s not sure why he agrees and lets you lead him up the stairs to an empty bedroom. His heart is pounding as you close the door then push him onto the bed. He knows he should say something, but his mind goes blank as you start to undress, your lacy bra making his cheeks flush.

He just stays there, staring up at you as you move onto your jeans, giving him his own personal show and he’s not going to dare to tell you to stop. Especially not when he feels his pants getting tighter.

He’s adorable, you think. He’s staring at you with drool practically falling from his lips and you wonder why he’s here alone tonight when any woman would be lucky to have him. He’s sweet and kind and you feel so grateful to have fallen into his lap. He’s unlike any guy you’ve ever met and you just know that he’ll be nothing but a gentleman when he finally gets you into bed.

He’s staring intently, his pupils getting bigger so that his eyes look almost black and you decide that you need him and you need him now. and he needs you too considering how hard he is right now.

You’re now just in your bra and panties and you make your way for him, placing yourself on top of him, kissing him until he’s breathless. Your hands slide up his shirt as your lips move to his neck again, pushing the shirt up slowly until you can get it over his head.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” he says breathily. You’re quick to pull away, reaching for your clothes, but he stops you, taking your hands in his. “But I want you to be my first.”

“You do?” You ask. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I’m Eddie,” he replies with that pretty smile and you swear your heart melts for just a second.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeats, putting emphasis on each syllable and it sounds so pretty coming out of his mouth. ”Now I do know your name and I still want you to be my first…if you want.”

“I’m not very good, just so you know.” Those were the exact words that Johnny had said to you every time

“How would I know?” He lets out a laugh and it makes your heart flutter. God, he’s perfect. He’s perfect and you’re probably never going to see him again. That’s why you’ve got to make tonight count. So you pull him in for another kiss, sticking your tongue into his mouth this time and he moans, loudly, a sound he’s only made when he was by himself.

You begin to grind against him and now he’s whining into your mouth and the sound is intoxicating. You need more. You need to ride him until all he can get out is your name, screaming it until he can’t anymore.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” You ask as your hands slip between your bodies, feeling around for the button of his jeans.

“God, yes,” he breathes. Once they’re off, it’s much easier to see his bulge and how much of an effect you’ve had on him from giving him your little show plus your kisses. He’s never wanted anyone so badly and he’s prepared to do whatever, be whatever you ask of him.

He sees you pulling something from your purse and immediately realizes that it’s a condom as soon as comes into view. You slowly pull down his boxers and he should be shy about you being the only girl to ever see his cock, but he’s not.

“I’m gonna put this on you, okay?” You tell him and he nods as his boxers finally come off and your eyes widen at the size of him. You roll the condom onto him then quickly remove your panties before straddling him.

You settle on top of him nice and slow to get him used to it and the moan that falls from his lips is enough to make you soaked. He’s already coming undone so you’re going to take your time because you know he’s not going to last very long.

“God,” he whines. “This is far better than using my hand.” You’re moving slowly, your hands pressed against his chest as you continue to move.

“Yeah? You like that? How about this?” You begin to bounce even faster, moving your hands to grab onto his hips, pushing them against yours until he’s able to do it on his own, mimicking the movement perfectly.

“Fuck,” he whines again. “Does it always feel this good?” He’s moving slowly, trying his best to keep up with your pace and you watch him come completely undone underneath you, his body pouring sweat as he pushes in and out of you, his words quickly slurring by the second.

“To be honest, not really, but with you, it feels just right. You’re such a good boy.” Those seem to be the magic words because not long after, he’s reaching his orgasm and you feel so smug because of how loud he’s being. You did that and you feel even more confident that you made him feel that good.

When he comes down, you turn to leave because that’s what you’re used to, but Eddie grabs hold of you and pulls you down to lie beside him. You turn to face him and his eyes are pleading. You know what he wants and even though it’s programmed into you to leave, you just can’t. Not when he’s been so sweet and not when he made you feel so good. He’s not like the others that you’ve slept with. He actually cares what you’re into and isn’t interested in using you just to feel something.

As you pull him into another kiss, you just know that you’re going to go for another round and you give in. You let him take the lead this time, only with a little guidance and he’s nothing but a good boy. He doesn’t even have to ask to know what you like. He just does. As he makes you orgasm, you just know that you won’t be able to sleep with anyone else after that. And with the way he pulls you into his arms after you come down, he tells you exactly that.

Pretty much everyone is gone when the two of you sneak downstairs and out the door. You head outside hand in hand and Eddie walks you to your car. Kissing you again and again, stalling going to his own vehicle and only leaves when he gets your phone number and plans to meet again for one more, but you both know that it won’t be just one more. Not if you can help it, anyway.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie #virgin!eddie x fem!reader #virgin!eddie x reader #virgin!eddie x you #virgin!eddie x y/n

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