#We are SO close to the trailer I CAN SMELL IT. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowersforbucky · 8 months ago

Text

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.8k

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.”

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees.

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all.

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.”

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?”

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.”

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.”

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.”

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding.

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape.

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning.

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee.

“Thanks, but I think I can–”

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?”

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun.

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC.

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride.

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch.

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can.

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.”

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour.

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–”

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth.

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision.

“Never because of me.”

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line.

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly.

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?”

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.”

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you.

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind.

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion.

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it.

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it.

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up.

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced.

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee.

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain.

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you.

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them.

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake.

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–”

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!”

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.”

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down.

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.”

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him.

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.”

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity.

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.”

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee.

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver.

— — — — —

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car.

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite.

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts.

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month.

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room.

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing.

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit.

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons.

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?”

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.”

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?”

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.”

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues.

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.”

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?”

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.”

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender.

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.”

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?”

— — — — —

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table.

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are.

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here.

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago.

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you.

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening.

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself.

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.”

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?”

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit.

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath.

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night.

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky.

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.”

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion.

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening.

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards.

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.”

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour.

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position.

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying.

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.”

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?”

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — —

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound.

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.”

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin.

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room.

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you.

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win.

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long —

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box.

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–”

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more.

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans.

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?”

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave.

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.”

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you.

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile.

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare.

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission.

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.”

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.”

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly.

Truth.

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?”

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands.

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–”

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly.

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try?

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.”

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity?

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly.

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.”

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?”

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer.

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked.

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.”

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before.

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline.

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point.

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.”

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him.

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards.

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison.

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans.

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line–

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings.

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing.

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.”

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it.

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants.

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles.

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest.

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–”

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center.

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit.

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed.

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center.

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax.

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris.

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth.

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him.

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices.

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter.

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck.

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue.

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants.

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.”

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest.

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked.

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them.

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts.

"You're goddamn stunning.”

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering.

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance.

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once.

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already.

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head.

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?”

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back.

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.”

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you.

With you still panting and limp beneath him, his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you.

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you.

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened.

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before.

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.”

♡♡♡♡♡

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #pvris #oil & water #oil & water by pvris #song fic

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alleiwentcrazy · 15 days ago

Text

“Wait,” Steve propped himself on his elbow, getting into a half-lying, half-sitting up position, “you’d do that for me?”

“Yeah man,” Eddie replied. He shimmied a little bit closer to the middle of the mattress and snuggled to his pillow. His eyebrows furrowed as he yawned. “I mean, I kind of did that already, didn’t I?”

Steve just kept on looking at him, stunned. It felt so strange to be cared for; to be remembered, known. He’d never had been, not like that—with Robin, sure, but that was different. He’d never felt like that with Nancy. With anyone. He hadn’t had to try and make out someone’s silhouette in the darkness, just to read their face and decide whether they were just selfless and nice or doing something for him. Truly for him, for the sake of doing it for him. It had never been an issue, because there had never been anyone about whom he’d had to wonder things like that. It had always been an exchange of sorts in this context.

But not with Eddie.

Steve’s head started to spin.

“Honestly I can’t wait for you to see it. You know she’s not really my type, but even I can see how fucking cool this car is. It felt a little like tuning my guitar or—”

Steve didn’t even register it when he reached for Eddie’s face, his consciousness wasn’t in the room when he lowered himself down and sank even closer to the boy who’d put his heart in a wrench. He just kissed him, and when he did – momentarily, it was a complete bliss. As long as his lips were gently pressed to Eddie’s, no matter how hard his heart was beating, it felt like he would be okay after all. Nothing else was important; he was kissing Eddie. He felt warm and cared for; he was kissing Eddie.

Eddie.

Steve felt a finger hook at the rim of his shirt, he felt himself being pulled closer.

The panic came approximately three seconds later.

Their lips parted with the softest tsk, but Steve heard it several times louder. His senses were screaming at him, all alarms set off; the smell of Eddie’s shampoo lingered around his face, the sensation of chapped lips lingered against his, his fingers were tingling where they came in contact with Eddie’s slightest stubble.

It was curious how much Eddie reminded him of a cat at that moment. He was rigid, but ready to spring into action whenever, and his eyes were ridiculously big, almost fluorescent in the dim moonlight that was seeping through the trailer’s curtains. The longer Steve looked into those eyes, the more he felt like he might have fucked up. Bad.

“Should I—I should, I mean I…” He trailed off, getting a little further away from Eddie with every word. “I should, yeah, probably. Go.”

He practically jumped out of the bed, and it pained him how cold it was without Eddie close to him. He’d gotten so used to sleeping here, just sleeping, whenever Wayne was out and no uncomfortable questions would be asked, so that they both could feel a little less alone.

“I’ll take the van, we’ll exchange cars later today, alright?” Steve looked for his change of clothes in the darkness. They were, as usual, neatly stacked in his designated space at Eddie’s desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I mean, I did, but I’m, uh. I’m…” He trailed off, his cheeks getting embarrassingly hot and pink, he supposed, even though he couldn’t see himself in the mirror.

It felt wrong to say he was sorry. He was, obviously, he just kissed Eddie out of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. His lips were still warm. He wanted to purse them tightly to keep the memory of Eddie’s lips on his firmly in place.

“We should do it again.”

Steve froze.

“What?”

He turned back towards the bed. It was much easier to make out Eddie’s form now. He was sitting up, chewing his thumbnail, his eyes barely flickering to Steve. His hair stood out against the white-ish wall and Eddie’s gray T-shirt. The waves were quite disheveled, but still cascaded beautifully over his shoulders.

Damn, Steven.

“We should do it again. If you’re not sure, we should do it again.”

Not sure about what? Steve did not dare ask. Eddie looked so nervous, maybe even more nervous than Steve felt. Both of their breaths were coming short now, as if they’d just run a marathon.

Apprehensively, Steve sat back down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath him and he swayed a bit forward.

“We should kiss. Again?” That really was what it was, right?

Eddie nodded his head quickly. Steve’s breath hitched when the smell of Eddie’s shampoo reached his nose once again.

There were very few thoughts in Steve’s head. There was just Eddie, right in front of him, chewing his nail, nodding away. Wanting to kiss him, again, having been kissed once already. Steve was confused and more than a little queasy, but his willpower wasn’t quite strong enough to get him questioning things.

“Okay,” he mumbled. Eddie finally looked at him, lowered his hand to his lap and nodded.

Some sort of nervous sound rumbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Okay. It was okay. He leaned in—and Eddie leaned in at the same time. Warm breath tickled Steve’s lips, and he stopped just before meeting Eddie half-way.

“Are you su—”

Eddie was kissing him before the sentence got out of his mouth in its entirety. Really kissing him, not just pressing their lips together, kissing him, still incredibly stiff and distanced, but kissing him. Oh, with something more than just curiosity, Steve could tell. He let out one heavy breath through his nose and felt Eddie relax right away with him. Their lips were in perfect harmony; Steve’s chest tightened. His stomach felt heavy and full and squirmy and for some reason Steve had never felt better than in this moment, even though his eyes stung and he could barely breathe.

His hands acted on their own accord, one settling on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on his cheek, keeping him close, closer, closer still.

Their lips parted. Steve felt the loss immediately.

“I’m gonna…” Eddie whispered huskily, untangling his legs from the cover and shifting his position. It was funny how one of his knees kind of hovered over Steve’s lap in silent question – it was even funnier how long it took Steve to process that.

“Yeah, feel free, please.”

What the fuck, Steven.

Eddie straddled his lap and leaned right back for another kiss, pressing their chests together. Their hearts kept thump thump thumping loudly against their chests, and Steve was kind of actively losing his mind over that. Eddie, in his gray T-shirt and stupid plaid shorts, was straddling his lap, kissing him, making him believe that he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Was it even real? Could Steve touch him? Would it really be alright? He laid his hand on Eddie’s thigh, feeling hair and goosebumps underneath his fingers. Another conclusion from that night: Eddie was hot. Steve kissed him harder, and he reciprocated, grabbing Steve’s neck.

Steve had no idea for how long they had been kissing, until Eddie swayed dangerously close to the edge of the bed and Steve’s neck started to hurt. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was it.

For now, hopefully.

“It’s getting late,” he mumbled against Eddie’s lips, “and you’ve got to be at the shop at 8 sharp tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said and stole one more peck. “You wanna sleep?”

Fuck me if I can, Steve thought, but nodded yes.

“But let’s talk tomorrow? Okay?”

Eddie’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. His lips seemed sleek and shiny, shinier than his eyes, even.

“We must,” he replied. They both nodded. For some reason Steve’s heart started beating even faster now.

Eddie scrambled from his lap, cleared his throat and rearranged the covers, getting back into his favourite position. Steve followed suit. The gap between them seemed enormous and immediately got filled with anxious energy.

Steve reached between them hesitantly. For a few seconds his hand just lay there, empty and suddenly very cold. Eddie’s open palm touched his. He let out a big breath.

They would figure it out. For sure. Tomorrow.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #st4 #posting steddie in 2025 feels like a crime #i just wanted to make them kiss lol. there's no story for that #and write something after what felt like literal ages #if anyone reads it: i salute you

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urhoneycombwitch · 9 months ago

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mean mouth

sub!Eddie Munson x Reader Eddie likes when you talk a lil' mean to him. game over once you figure it out.

foreword: n e ways. just a little exploration of that boy's early-day sub tendencies. I generally write Eddie as older but since this takes place in some nebulous time before s4 u can think whatever u want +18. ‘unnamed freak’ is Jacob. punk band name was not thought of by me but isn’t it great <3

cw: gn!reader w/breasts + V, oral (R receiving), unprotected PiV, soft!dom(ish) R, Eddie subbing from the top 😎, gotta-be-quiet-when-we-fuck trope my beloved

wc: 3.7k

____

The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

Eddie’s a blur of motion in the little trailer kitchen, knocking against your knees where you’re propped up on the counter (not entirely helpful but, in his words, ‘much-needed eye candy for the chef’), closing cupboards with a bang and talking animatedly over the hiss of onions cooking.

Your boy is loud, always has been, and tonight is no different- he’s crowing and cackling, recounting a particularly genius foible that he’d orchestrated during last night’s campaign, wooden spoon dipping in and out of heated pots over the stove like some crazed frizzy-haired potions master.

“And then.” He punctuates with a jab of the spoon towards you, a long drip of spaghetti sauce narrowly missing your leg- you flinch and squeak in alarm, but Eddie just grins wildly, eager to get to the punchline. “Red rolls a natural. Fucking. Twenty.”

“Holy shit!” Your smile is wide, natural and easy for him- Eddie’s excitement is infectious.

“I know!” Eddie spins back to the stove, plunking the wooden spoon back into the simmering sauce before opening the oven. Heat from the broiler rises in a mouth-watering cloud of herby smell, and Eddie reaches for the metal sheet of garlic bread, still talking. “Couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. And then I- shit!”

You don’t put the pieces together until Eddie’s spinning away from the open oven, whole body moving with the force of his hand being shaken in the air- he’d touched the roiling-hot metal with his bare hand.

“Oh, shit, babe-” Sliding from the counter, you nudge the oven door closed with a foot, reaching out to assess the damage- but Eddie’s a whirlwind, jumping up and down, swinging his injured hand around in jerky movements, howling in pain.

It’s kind of freaking you out, ‘cuz you can’t tell if he’s playing up or if he’s actually got a third-degree burn. The voice that comes out of you is commanding, one that you rarely use, firm and louder than his hollering.

“Eddie, for fuck’s sake- stand up and let me see it.”

That seems to do the trick. Eddie’s eyes snap to you, pausing mid-hop, and you take advantage of his semi-stillness to snatch his wrist and drag him towards the sink. The water runs cool and you turn his palm over in both of yours, breathing a sigh of relief when the pink welt across the bridge of his hand doesn’t have any blisters.

“Under the water,” you instruct, pushing at his silver-link braceleted wrist until he gets the memo, letting the flow from the tap ease the burn.

Eddie hisses through his teeth, and then goes quiet for the first time in ages.

There’s a few moments of this strained silence as you watch his hand carefully, color leaching back into his palm until you notice Eddie’s looking at you sideways.

Your shoulders hunch in a bit, arms crossed over your chest as you take a step back, misinterpreting his look as wounded. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just-”

“Hey, whoa, no-” Eddie’s hand automatically reaches for you, dripping water on the floor until he remembers his injury with a wince and plunges it back under the tap. “You don’t have to apologize for that. At all. Um.”

His left hand, the uninjured one, braces against the linoleum, ringed knuckles creaking as he shifts his stance. He sounds uncomfortable, and you’re about to start apologizing again until he lifts his head, eyes twinkling- “You were so bossy. It was totally hot.”

A shocked laugh burbles out of you, unsure if he’s joking or not- when he shifts his weight again, your gaze flickers down to the zipper of his dark jeans- he’s fully hard.

“Oh my god.” Split between amusement and mortification, adrenaline from seeing him get hurt fizzing through your veins, you laugh again- this time, sardonic, into your hands, shaking your head. “Jesus christ, Eddie.”

“Can’t help it.” He’s close to whining, hips pressing flush into the cabinet, partly to relieve the ache in his groin and partly to toy with you. “Goddamn. Sound so sexy when you tell me what to do-”

There’s a teatowel hanging from a nearby rack; you snatch it up and whip it at Eddie’s shoulder, playful and irritated as you snap, “Shut up.”

“Oh, yeah, just like that, baby-” Eddie’s fake sultry voice earns him another towel-whip, this time at his neck- he squawks, ducking to avoid another blow while still keeping his hand under the water.

“Ridiculous. You’re ridiculous,” you announce with finality, slinging the towel over your shoulder and turning on your heel. “I’m gonna get the burn cream. Try not to cum or die while I’m gone.”

His bright laughter follows you all the way down the hall.

___

The next time it happens, it’s sort-of on purpose.

Eddie’s glowing with a post-show rush- a local business convention meant Corroded Coffin got to play for a nearly-packed room. Nevermind the fact that their Bruce Springsteen cover was the one bringing in the most applause; Eddie’s always been able to feed off the energy of a crowd, and tonight was a riotous success.

The Hideout is loud but your boy is louder, as per usual. There’s sweat curling the baby hairs at his temples, bright spots of flushed pink in his cheeks from the round of whiskey you’d bought the band as a congrats.

He’s making a toast to his laughing bandmates, to beautiful you, to any nearby drunk who will listen, proclaiming his lust for life with one boot on the well-worn table in noble pose.

“And to Bev, the best of us-” Eddie tips his half-empty glass towards the nearby bar, shouting over the din of the jukebox and lively chatter, “-may your sharp-tongued wit live on!”

Bev pauses service to flip him off, and Eddie collapses back into the comfort of your arm over the booth’s top, grinning when the band trio of Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob nearly fall out of their chairs with laughter.

It’s always hot to see Eddie in his element, and tonight’s not an exception. He turns to lean into you, looking down the slope of his pretty nose like he knows why you’re staring.

A charming wink precedes, “Come here often?” but his flirting is interrupted when Jeff gets up for another round and bumps the table- whiskey sloshes over the side of Eddie’s cup and coats his hand in stickiness.

He swears viciously, yanking out his bandanna to wipe at the mess while you laugh over the rim of your own glass at him. “Real smooth, babe. Good thing you killed it on stage, otherwise I might not take you home.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, inhaling for another cheesy line to wow you with when his gaze flicks past you and his face falls.

Across the table, Jacob mutters, “Oh, shit,” and Gareth glowers.

Following their eyelines, you look over your shoulder to see Nico Hawley, frontrunner of Hawkin’s own punk band (the Scumshots), enter through the front door in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

When you turn back to Eddie, he’s already twisting the damp bandanna around his rings. The usual softness of his doe-brown eyes are now flint-sharp, and with a rush of panic, you remember the last time Eddie and Nico ran into each other; the night had ended with you back at the trailer, holding a cold pack to Eddie’s split lip, which he’d received from engaging in what he referred to as “friendly fisticuffs”.

There was nothing friendly about the way Eddie stood, then, to his full height, dark and imposing with his big mane of hair and leather jacket. The other Corroded boys won’t start any shit themselves, but will absolutely back Eddie up (fearless leader, resident shit-starter, instigator extraordinaire).

Time’s running out for you to get a handle on the situation, Eddie already moving to slide past you out of the booth when you snag his left jacket sleeve in a tight grip.

The first yank you give stops him in his tracks; the second, more intentional tug gets his face level with yours, Eddie’s hardened stare giving way to confusion as you pull him into your space.

In that same authoritative tone, you pin Eddie in place with a fistful of leather and command, low, right in his ear to be heard above the bar noise, “Don’t. Sit down and be good.”

At first, you’re not sure it worked, because Eddie’s just staring at you- slightly slack-jawed, pretty pink o mouth as his gaze flickers to your lips, back up to lock in your gaze again.

And then, by some miracle, Eddie obeys. Like a well-trained, marvelously-behaved dog. He’s back in his seat with a jolt to the booth, hand curling around his whiskey again.

Curls spill and shift around jacketed shoulders as he shoots the rest of the glass, adam’s apple bobbing, other hand slipping to cup your thigh hidden from view. “It’s not worth it,” he announces to the rest of the group, sounding strained, staring at the bottom of his empty glass, knuckles white with force.

Jake sighs, relieved, but Gareth scoffs, tipping the neck of his beer across the table to point, goading Eddie with “Since when have you been the one to take orders?”

“Shut up,” Eddie shoots back, blood returning and redistributing enough from where it had all rushed south, enough to defend you and himself against his drunk bandmate. “We’re already on Hop’s shit list, asshole, can’t be catching any more charges for stupid fuckin’ bar fights.”

Nico had disappeared into the throng of people at the bar while your group has been arguing- probably for the best that he’s out of eyesight. Unperturbed by Gareth’s comment (he likes you fine, he’s just grumpy from the alcohol and itching for a fight), you sip your drink and give him a shameless wink.

Underneath the tabletop, Eddie’s palm flattens over your jeans, fingers dipping to toy with the denim seam hugging the fatty plush part of your inner thigh. You shift your hips, subtly, feeling flush with heat and power. Just a couple of words and you have him eating out of your goddamn hand.

Jeff returns, setting a handful of beers in the middle of the table. “Saw that shitstain Hawley at the bar. What’d I miss here?”

Gareth swoops in with accusatory explanation, seizing another bottle out of Jeff’s hands. “What you missed is Eddie’s balls on a leash-”

“Jealous you don’t have someone at home to tie you up, Emerson?” Eddie’s dig comes swiftly, lips quirked in a smile around the rim of his drink.

There’s a raucous burst of laughter, Gareth’s curly mop of hair gets ruffled playfully, and everyone eases back into celebration, all while Eddie’s thumb edges closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.

___

The next time, though? Totally on purpose.

There’s a sliver of gold from the hallway light spilling under Eddie’s closed door, left on in case Jeff or Gareth needed to use the bathroom during the night.

And despite the fact that two of his bandmates are passed out on the couch and floor just a short walk away, Eddie’s hands are exploring the length of your body under the sheets like he’s got plans to map you with his tongue.

“We- ah- can’t.” Your whispering scold is interrupted with a sharp gasp when Eddie nips at your neck. “No fooling around. Not when we have guests.”

His left hand drips over the swell of your breast, squeezing and kneading, your nipples perking to attention (traitors) underneath the bra you haven’t yet had the chance to take off.

Eddie adopts your quiet tone as he speaks between kisses that trail further down your body, not outright ignoring your weak protests but not doing much to combat them, either. “Mmm. Got me so worked up. Been driving me crazy since the bar, y’know that? ‘S cruel, baby, can’t just talk mean and expect me not to act on it.”

“Wasn’t mean,” you counter, hands shifting automatically to wind through the soft locks of hair tickling at your stomach as Eddie continues his path downwards. “Didn’t wanna have to patch up a split lip. Had to make you behave somehow.”

The vibrating groan Eddie gives against the soft skin of your stomach tickles; when you squirm, shushing him again, his hands slide to your hips, pinning you in place.

Nose to your navel, warm breath fanning across the strip of skin just above the band of your panties, Eddie sounds strung-out already, close to begging. “Please, baby. I’ll be good. Make it so good for you. I’ll be quiet-”

His head snaps up at your sudden gasping laugh, chin perched on your tummy as he scoffs. “What, you don’t think I can keep quiet?”

“Eddie Munson, you couldn’t be quiet to save your life.” Your hands migrate to his cheeks, squishing them together fondly as he grins around your touch, his thumbs working circles at your bare hips.

“Ye of little faith.” In the dim light of the room, Eddie’s teeth are a flash of white before his mouth dips to press against the wet patch at your underwear.

“Fucking… shit-!” The expletives fly out harshly, only because you weren’t expecting the wet stripe of his tongue against your clothed folds. Head dropping back to the comfort of your pillow, you get one hand in Eddie’s hair again, the other finding its way to twist at the sheets.

You can feel his smile, equal parts smug and sympathetic as he coos saccharine to your inner thigh- “Now, now, angel. Gotta be quiet.”

Not willing to lose the fight, you focus on clamping your mouth shut, eyes closed in concentration- even as Eddie slides your underwear down and off, a quick flash of blue fabric before it’s swallowed by the floor’s darkness. Even as he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard like he’s been deprived of your taste for too long.

When his tongue breaches your entrance, a soft gasp escapes, one that has your head turning sideways to grab some pillow with your teeth.

Eddie brings the wetness from your entrance up again, spreading it over your pulsing clit, nerve endings fizzing bright and hot in your stomach from the attention.

On instinct, your right leg kicks out, jolting with the spasm of pleasure- Eddie’s quick, though, taking advantage of the movement to find a new hold at the back of your thigh; rings biting cold, he pushes until you bend for him, your knee now pressed towards your chest.

“Gonna make it so good for you.” Eddie’s mumbling pussy-drunk rambles into your cunt that’s now on display, dragging his nose through the slick that weeps out of you, all for him- “So wet for me, angel. Fuck’s sake. This all for me?”

As if he doesn’t know. The hand that isn’t busy holding you open trails up your thigh, middle finger teasing at your entrance before slipping inside, no resistance thanks to the river of slick that rushes to greet it.

There’s a soft squelching noise as Eddie adds a second, curling them up, stroking against that tender gummy spot that always skyrockets your pulse.

The noise is almost enough to give you pause; feeling wild and flush with heat, your hand tightens in the crown of Eddie’s hair, eyes popping open as you prop yourself up on an elbow to give a strangled hiss of warning through your teeth.

Eddie senses your unease, pulls his fingers and mouth out and off (a travesty), softening the blow by giving a placating kiss to the top of your mound. “Shhh, sweetheart. S’okay. You hear that?”

Past the noise of nighttime crickets from the nearby cracked window, past the hum of the kitchen, you hear it as Eddie crawls back up- distant, tandem snores from the boys in the living room.

“They sleep like the dead. Like rocks,” Eddie promises, settling his weight into his hands planted on either side of your head, hair creating a curtain around your faces as he leans in. “So we can get our rocks off.”

“That was awful.” You kiss him anyways. He tastes like you, earthy and warm and wet, saliva mixed with your arousal as the kiss turns sloppy.

Eddie rocks his hips forwards, the friction from the fabric of his boxers making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. He’s achingly hard, cock leaking and smearing precum through the cotton; there’s a hurried, manic shift as you both work to strip the last pieces of clothing from yourselves, his boxers and your bra following your underwear from earlier into the dark of the room.

And then Eddie is sliding his cock through the folds of your pussy, slicking up the sizable length as much as he can before the tip nudges at your entrance; Eddie’s arms tremble with effort as yours wrap around his shoulders, soothing with a kiss to his cheek- “Lotta talk about keeping quiet, Munson. That’s all it was? Just talk?”

Now that his mouth isn’t intent on making you fall apart anymore, you’ve got some breathing room to tease. To be the one to work him up. Tucking a curly lock of hair behind his ear, your fingers trace adoringly over his temple before sliding to grip the back of his neck. “Gonna prove me wrong, hotshot?”

With this new proximity, you can see Eddie’s eyes- fixed intently on yours, black pupils nearly eclipsing the soft amber of his irises. He looks slightly feral, sweat sticking his bangs in place, lips parted, spots of pink staining his cheeks.

As if he doesn’t trust himself to speak, Eddie’s near-silent as he slides himself in to the hilt, jaw dropping as the warmth from your walls encompasses him completely.

The chained guitar pick around his neck tickles between the valley of your breasts. He pants, chest heaving, not daring to move yet; your breath stutters. You can feel him in your throat.

“So big,” you murmur, an honest reaction but one that has Eddie’s brows drawing together, a little whine escaping as his hips jerk forward, reflexive to your words.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck.”

Eddie’s voice, strained though it may be, is on its way to regular volume. At the back of his neck, your hand flexes, a warning as he begins to rock steadily into your tight heat.

“Gotta be good.” Biting back your own groan, you sling your leg over his waist. At this angle, you can press your heel to the dip of his lower back. “Be good and quiet for me and I’ll let you come in my p-”

His hips snap forward, audibly, subsequent wet noise obscene, filling the room. Eddie moans into the curve of your neck before your sentence is even fully formed- “Jesus, baby. Oh my god. Can’t say stuff like that, gonna come too quick-”

His cock fits along the contours of your cunt like you were made for him, ridged tip dragging against that same sensitive spot of your front wall with each pull and thrust.

Eddie’s forehead thunks into yours as he rolls it back and forth, mindlessly. All the tease has melted out of his voice: it’s been replaced with a lust-filled rasp, rock-salt and deep.

Your voice, however, is all tease, still hushed but laced with mischief despite your mounting pleasure. “Yeah? Gonna come in my pussy?”

It’s almost not fair and you almost feel bad, seeing the way Eddie fights to make his gasp silent as the channels of your cunt clench in answer to his fucked-out expression. With his next thrust, Eddie loses the battle- a hoarse, blissful moan much too loud spills over and out into the quiet room.

Moving quick, your hand slips from the back of Eddie’s neck to his mouth, palm flat over the plush of his lips.. The commanding tone comes easy this time (with practice, you’ll surely be a natural).

“Eddie. Be. Quiet.”

Usually, Eddie’s got stamina enough to prioritize your pleasure, making sure you’re taken care of at least twice before he even thinks of himself. Tonight, though, he’s already been straining in his jeans for hours, unbearably turned on from your earlier sharp words, pushing the limits of desperation.

Your words, once again, do the trick. Eddie’s cock pulses, and he comes hard, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your hand, chorus of whimpers successfully dampened. His dark brows knit together, eyes pinched shut, nostrils flaring with each stilted breath.

He’s so fucking hot when he comes, hair a riot around stormcloud eyes that open to take you in. Even prettier when he’s coming down, leaning into your hand for support before you take it away, guiding and encouraging him to lay down.

Eddie collapses, carefully enough that it doesn’t jostle you, but still with his full weight. The crown of his head radiates heat against your chin.

His arms wrap solidly around your middle as he whispers (he’s learning) in croaky fragments, “Jesus fucking H. I think you just broke my brain. Smashed it into a million little pieces. Never come so hard in my life. I’m in love with you.”

The laugh you give him is quiet but golden, the rise and fall of your chest causing his head to bounce a bit (but Eddie could die happy between your breasts so he doesn’t mind). “See? It’s worth it to listen to me, sometimes.”

“You’re so smart. Gonna do whatever you say, forever and ever. Cart-blank.” And then he’s pushing up onto his elbows, keeping his face level with your left breast so he can suck your nipple into his mouth, gently worrying his teeth over the peaked bud.

Previously tangled in the sheets, your hand flies up to grab his shoulder, nails digging in. “Fuck. Fuck, Eddie. That’s good. And- ah- it’s ‘carte blanche’.”

He leaves the comfort of your breast with a sigh. “Whatever you say, princess. Gonna let me fuck you some more? Your turn to be the loud one.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut

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jeontasy · 1 month ago

Text

Endless Summer

pt.1

word count: no idea, i wrote this feverishly on my phone at 2am pls

♡ : a little Caleb write so i can fulfill my own lil fantasies

setting: summer vacation + grandma isnt home + caleb realizes youve grown up + making out + some touches

perspective: caleb x afab reader

enjoy :)

edit: this was meant to be just a quick write of inspiration from the newest Caleb trailer cause he was giving hella forbidden love x Gege vibes but I will be now adding a part 2 which will be basically smut :}

Part 2 (m)

gif credit: kiiseru

The night Summer breeze whistles through the trees outside the window, there’s a dim white light shinning from inside the kitchen where Caleb was grabbing a popsicle from the freezer. He hums a tune as he rips the wrapper open and puts it in his mouth.

“Caleb! Did you use up my facewash again?!” You yelled from the upstairs bathroom when you realize your facewash was nearing the bottom; again. This was your first week back for Summer vacation and you’re already regretting not bringing skincare back from the dorm. Gentle footsteps clicked down the halls and you see Caleb leaning against the bathroom door flashing a sly grin at you before taking his popsicle out his mouth. “So what if I did? You always have the best stuff anyway.” He laughs heartily when you groan and try to pinch his face but he’s able to duck from every launched attack.

This guy!!, you thought to yourself. You let out an annoying sigh before wrapping your freshly washed hair in a towel and closing the bathroom lights. The bathrobe clung onto your wet body uncomfortably as you walk back into your room to dry up and get dressed. Caleb lets out a laugh at your annoyed expression and taps the top of your head, “How about I make you a sundae and we can watch that drama you’ve been wanting to finish? Hmm?” He tilts his head and flashes a gentle smile, hoping to make it up to you. You pout and look away, not wanting to fall for his tricks everytime he does something annoying but those shiny lavender eyes were impossible to deny.

“Fine.” You mumbled under your breath before slapping his hand away, “I want strawberry flavor and a looooot of whipped cream!” Caleb raises a brow and laughs at your request, “Anything you want, princess.” He turns around ready to go downstairs, “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

You watch as his shadow slowly disappear into the darkness, you can hear him taking things out from the fridge and preparing to make the sundae. “I’m making him buy me a new facewash tomorrow..” You mutter to yourself before changing out of the bathrobe.

Caleb tops the sundae off with a bunch of whipped cream and strawberry slices as a finishing before smiling to himself proudly. She’ll love this, he thought. “She must hate the food over at the university.” Caleb chuckles while thinking about it.

He hears footsteps coming down the stairs and he turns around with a smile, eyes widening when he sees what you’re wearing.

The air is penetrated by the smell of your soft peach lotion and you were wearing one of his old oversized tshirts that he couldn’t fit in anymore. Caleb’s ears flushed hotly when he realizes you weren’t wearing anything underneath. The ends of the white tshirt flapped slightly with the wind as you walked and he gulps at the way it grazed against your thighs. He looks away with a blush as you walked down the stairs, careful to not catch a glimpse of what’s underneath that loose shirt. You fanned yourself as you strolled into the kitchen, regretting not turning the A.C on. “Is my sundae ready?” You taunt him teasingly, “Y-yeah, here.” Caleb picks up and shoves the bowl into your hands before coughing and walking away to the living room.

What’s with him?, You raised your brows before grabbing a spoon, walking to the living room as well to get ready for your show. You plop down on the couch and cross your legs, watching as Caleb frantically navigate the TV. You laughed at the sight and leaned in close to him, your voice laced with tease, “What? Our big pilot doesn’t know how to use a remote anymore?” Caleb turns and glares at you playfully, his skin turning hot. “S-shut up. Eat your ice cream.” You hummed and leaned in closer to him, resting your back against his bare arms and trying to get more comfortable in your position. Caleb freezes and tries to not look at your way, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he sees your naked thighs.

“I wonder if the male and female lead kissed yet, all they do is fight Wanderers together.” You complained about the show, looking up at Caleb trying to see what his response is. “What do you think?” You scooped up some ice cream and put it in your mouth, the sweet strawberry taste melts inside and shakes a cold feeling down your throat. “Hmmm, that’s so good..” You let out a satisfying sigh and scoops up a bite for Caleb, sitting yourself up before trying to feed it to him. “Wanna have some too?”

Caleb turns and stares at you and the melting ice cream, the TV was the only thing keeping the living room lit up and he can smell the strawberry flavor on your breath. He clears his throat and leans in to take the bite you were offering, face close to yours and staring into your eyes, you gulp a little bit.

“W-what?”

Before you can say anything else, Caleb drops the remote and you feel the cold ice cream bowl float away from your grasp and land on the glass coffee table. You let out a gasp when you’re suddenly pushed back onto the couch without warning, Caleb’s hot breath coming down onto your ears as he traps you down. You can feel his beating heart through his tank top and the touch of his searing skin. The room was completely silent, with just the cicadas chirping outside the patio.

“It’s not fair.” He whispered.

“H-huh? What’d you say?” You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he just leans down on you heavier, he inhales in your scent and lets out a long sigh. His deep voice trembled through your body as he breathed right next to your ear, that musky scent drifting into your nose and captivating you. You feel one of his hand snake around your waist and lifting your body up into his, while his other hand cups the nape of your sweaty neck. “Caleb, what’s wrong?” You whispered, trying to rub his back in comfort. “Did something happen in Skyhaven?” you asked him with concern.

She smells so good..why does she smell so good? Caleb was lost in his own thoughts and lets out a low growl before lifting his face and looks down at you. He can’t help but realize how much you’ve grown ever since you left for college. The way your wet hair clung onto your neck and how his tshirt was slowly drooping down your bare shoulder.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to do this.”

He leans down and gently plants a hot kiss on your neck. The sudden impact sends a jolt down your spine and you let out a low whimper.

“C-Caleb, what are you-“

He holds your nape and suddenly pulls you in for a deep kiss. Your eyes widen as your lips touched his, you can feel his hot skin steaming against your own as his hair sweeps over his hooded needy eyes. He pulls back for a split second, “Don’t say anything.” he breathes out before pulling you in for another kiss.

You let out a quiet moan as he kissed you deeply, pulling you in so close that it doesn’t give you a chance to protest. It’s as if he was in a desert without water and you were the only bottle left. You hear Caleb whimper into your mouth as you shift your legs up underneath him, which makes his body flinch a little. He pulls back and a wet trail entangles between both of your mouths. "When did you suddenly grow up? Hmm?" He whispers softly, your mind was going blank from his touch. Unable to answer coherently, you let out another pleasured gasp when he growls in the depths of your neck. You feel his hand slowly move from your waist and down the sides of your hip.

"Caleb, w-wait..Grandma is-"

"She's not home." Caleb inhales deeply before moving his attention back to your lips, hungrily nipping at your soft skin and letting his hand move down further.

-♡-

To Be Continued in Part 2...

-♡-

disclaimer: Part 2 is definitely rated m HEAVY so please do not read if you're a minor!!! ;u; thank you!

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #caleb lads #caleb fic #love and deepspace fic #caleb x you #caleb lnds #lnds fic #lads fanfic

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jadedlavendergemini · 5 months ago

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“Babe! I’m here!” Eddie’s voice call from the front door.

You were currently in the kitchen trying to remove the cookies you were baking from the oven while at balancing your almost 12 month old daughter on your hip. “Kitchen, Eds!” You call out.

“Something smells sweet in here,” he makes his way into the kitchen, bending to face level with Olivia who grins back and then proceeds to smother her chubby face in kisses. “Oh and you made cookies! They smell good too.”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke. He doesn’t see as he raises his head back to yours and presses his lips to yours. You kiss him back and pull back.

“So where is it?”

“Sweetheart, you should really trust me more with the shopping.” He says, placing the shopping bag onto the counter.

You carry Olivia to her highchair and gently buckle her in. “Well, last time I sent you to the store for pie filling, I specifically told you Apple pie filling and you grabbed cherry.”

Eddie paused at your retelling, slowly raising his hands in defense. “All I heard was pie filling. I just assumed that it didn’t matter.”

“Of course it mattered! My dad is allergic to cherries, Eddie. You know that.”

“Okay well, most of the time I don’t fuck these things up. So are you ready to see it?”

You placed a few cheerios and sliced up fruit onto the highchair plate for your daughter and looked up at your husband who removed the small Halloween costume out from the bag and held it out the for you to see.

“Eddie what is that?” Your hands dropped to your hips when you realized what you were looking at. It certainly didn’t look like the one you had described to him before.

“It’s Liv’s costume! Just look babe! She’s gonna be the cutest, heavy metal rocker ever! I even got a little inflatable guitar!”

You really tried to hide the frustration that was clear in your features as you stared at your husband.

Taking a deep breath, you move forward a few steps towards him, who still looks excited about the costume and ignoring your look.

“Eddie,” you say, irritation clear in your voice. “That’s not the right costume. You were suppose to get her the bumble bee costume, remember?”

Eddie goes still as he tries to remember the conversation you two had from earlier this week. “Well, I thought- wait, I’m sorry why did she have to be a bumble bee exactly?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose with your eyes shut. “Because Nancy told me she’s dressing Becca as a lady bug and we thought it would be cute for Liv to be a bumble bee.”

Eddie scoffed. “It’s No big deal, okay? Maybe she can be a little bumble bee next year?”

“Eddie, she won’t be able to fit that costume by next year.” You argued, turning away from him and tried focus on your daughter who was happily eating her fruits and cheerios.

“Well I guess we could-.” Eddie replies, checking the small digital watch on his wrist. The store would be closing in about twenty minutes. Now he knew he would be in deep shit. “Alright let’s not panic, I have an idea.”

You look at Eddie with a questioning gaze, but before you can even get an answer out of him, he’s flown back out through the door of the trailer. Leaving you and your daughter in the kitchen.

You let out a sigh as you move to place a few more cheerios on the highchair plate. “He better come up with a brilliant idea.” Olivia just giggles in return.

A few hours pass as you and Eddie are walking hand in hand, with little Olivia tucked into your hip. The streets were filled with children running around from house to house with the challenge of collecting the most candy.

You were just thankful that she wouldn’t have to worry about all the sweets that would later cause cavities and unaffordable visits to the dentist at such a young age. You and Eddie agreed that she could have one piece, but not too much. And that would be her first Halloween treat.

You can feel your husband’s hand lightly squeezing yours as your small family continues to walk. But before you could move your head to face him, you hear his voice.

“Listen, sweetheart, you were right.” His voice low. “I should have double checked with you before buying that costume. I’m an idiot, I know.”

You just roll your eyes. “You’re not an idiot, Eds. But I really would like for you to just make a list of what you need whether it’s for the grocery store or a costume store. That way we don’t have these issues.”

The metal head just nods, understandably. “So, you’re not mad mad, right?”

You shook your head. “Not as mad as I should to be, it’s partially my fault. I could have gone out to grab the costume myself and had you watch Liv.”

The two of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. “Is that our little Miss Munson?!”

Olivia is now squealing with excitement, trying to escape your tight embrace. Slowly, you set her down on her feet and watch as she wobbles with full speed into the arms of Joyce.

Joyce and Jim decided to spend Halloween at home, handing out candy and looking forward to see their granddaughter (yes Jim and Joyce finally tied the knot!) pass by.

Joyce gathers the little “Munson Munchkin” (Jim’s nickname for his granddaughter) into her arms for a tight little embrace and pulls her gently back at arms length to inspect her costume. “What do we have here?”

“It looks like, um,” Jim was also having a hard time figuring it out. “She’s, uh, Y/N what is your daughter suppose to be?”

“Well as you can see,” Eddie chimed in. “She is a rockstar with-“

“Bumblebee wings.” You finished off. The looks they gave you weren’t what you were expecting but hey, it wasn’t negative.

“Oh,” Joyce still looks confused but still manages a smile. “So she’s a heavy metal rockstar and bumblebee hybrid?”

“Yep, that’s right.” You replied, trying not to meet you father’s confused look.

“Well she’s just the cutest!” Joyce smothers more kisses onto the toddler’s cheeks.

You look to Eddie who beams that familiar smile of triumph. That same smile that always makes you forget any argument or reminds you of just why you love him.

———————————————————————————

I would like to thank @lovelythoughtfulcupcake for reminding me about this one shot I had saved in my drafts! Hope you all like dad!eddie!

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie x mom!reader

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seat-safety-switch · 9 months ago

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In a lot of foreign countries, they have this neat amusement park ride. It's called "train," and it consists of a bunch of boxes you sit in and it takes you up and down a track. I could ride train all day long, through the incredible views of places that aren't the suburban-bordering-on-industrial wasteland that I live in.

Unfortunately for me, visiting train often requires me to get on an airplane, which is a big cylinder that flies through the sky. Despite being arguably similar to a train, it costs a whole lot more and smells kind of funny the whole time. Just not worth it, which is why I have attempted to get train at home.

Now, my local politicians dislike train. Perhaps you live in a country where your politicians are accountable to you, which is a terrifying prospect if you are a useless child of privilege who wants to spend a couple years of your life making friends with billionaires instead of being asked frightening questions about basic arithmetic. That is not the case here, where politicians are born in some sort of special vat, receive their law degrees, and come up with ideas like "what if school is actually hurting children?" We do not have many points of agreement, mostly because they drive new cars. Sometimes, they make someone else drive their car for them, which is a concept demonstrating just how sick things have become in their pointy little Hapsburg heads.

To them, there is no room for the laugh-a-minute thrill ride that is train. There is nothing amusing about the business of laying down roads that they then poorly maintain, a hyperfixation that occupies approximately ninety-six percent of their emailing-and-yelling time. Personally, I think if they really actually liked driving so much, they would put a couple hairpin turns or at least a nice high-speed chicane on my nineteen-minute drive to the grocery store, but that's a rant for another time. The government was not going to give me a train, so I had to do it for myself.

The best part of a train is that you can put a bunch of cars together, but not all of those cars have to have running and driving engines! With just a handful of purloined U-Haul® trailer hitches and a very heavy right foot, I was soon escorting seven-car public transit through the middle of downtown. Sure, if you look closely, you might argue that a bunch of welded-together Oldsmobile Aleros are not exactly up to the comfort of futuristic European rail, but we're hoping to be able to upgrade to some kind of haggard Japanese minivans in the next couple quarters, once fare revenue increases from the current value of "zero dollars." In my defence, it's not as much fun to play train-driver-guy if you're constantly asking people for money.

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caxde · 11 months ago

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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, you meet his friends, and go on a date to figure this out, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (4.4k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: thank you guys for the support, i think that for a while i'll just do drabbles of this story if requested so enjoy! part1 part2. part4 (they can be read seperatly)

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Both the phrase and your customer service voice came as second nature by now. Practice makes perfect you once heard.

“Hi, yeah… Um, do we know what they want?” The tall boy with floppy hair asked the girl following him, she agreed with a smile and he looked back at you. His face looked familiar, though you had never seen him come here before. “I’d like milk coffee, and uh.. what do you want?” He asked back at the girl, who had been grinning with a smirk that you weren’t quite sure if it was dedicated to you, or it was just a nervous reflex from her.

“I’ll have an iced tea, and a cinnamon bun.” She waited for you to write it down, before she continued, which you’d never admit out loud how frustrating it was, if they knew they were going to order more. “And uh, a large black coffee, with no sweetener and a chocolate milkshake with a… did she like scones or blueberry muffins?” She turned around to the wild haired boy, who had its eyes lost in the horizon. Something in you told you he was trying not to stare, and if you were being honest, you didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

“Muffin.” He muttered, as he scratched his closed eyes.

“Muffin.” She affirmed with a cheery tone.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

You placed the order under your waitress number. Lucky number 17, even if there only were two of you. You prepped the coffees with your usual care, enjoying both the process and the smell that filled the air. Two small plates with a paper napkin under each pastry. You wrote down where they were seated while you waited for the milkshake and the iced tea. You still didn’t dare to make them. You had tried, you just never managed the right balance between ice cream, milk and cocoa powder. You did have fun however with the whipped cream and the chocolate shavings. Mainly because it was an excuse for you to eat the chocolate that you didn’t grate.

The bell above the door rang and your attention turned to it. A wide smile appeared on your previously concentrated face.

It wasn’t strange considering Lua was running down the small entrance corridor so she could meet you, your body already kneeling down at the floor so she could greet you however she decided to.

“Hi dude! I didn’t know you were coming” Your voice got high in unexpected excitement as she hugged you in her particular way. “How are you doing?”

“Happy.” She beamed, her hand hiding her face in her usual shy manner she always had when she was someplace that wasn’t as familiar to her.

“I hope you are, you’re getting a milkshake.” Eddie followed her closely behind, offering his hand for her to take it, she did as soon as she heard the word milkshake. Jumping a bit, knowing that that was an unusual treat.

It clicked in that moment, where you knew that boy from. He was in a lot of the photos Eddie had laying around, some were in frames, some were laying around his coffee table.

Though you knew him as uncle Stevie, you doubted that was his name. And if that really was uncle Stevie, then the girl had to be auntie Rob. It would explain the weird energy they had while ordering, and the grins that they tried to hide.

“Chocolate?” She asked back, her head moved around the both of you, she had to look up now, both of you doing what you didn’t realise you always did. While your feet stayed separated, your bodies always found a way to get closer, your waist pushed forward, his arms did too.

“And a blueberry muffin.” You added, with glee. The contrast between the excitement coming from Lua and the exhausting anticipation coming off from Eddie was comical. He grabbed the skin between his eyes, knowing that this sugar rush was going to tire him out.

“She’s not gonna eat dinner.” He adds, in a somehow frustrated mumble, as he looks back up at you. “And Wayne made Spaghetti with tomato sauce… And garlic bread…” He was making that exaggerated whining voice he knew made you laugh.

“I can have the leftovers.” He smiled, even if he knew that that was what he originally wanted. Another quiet night with you, Wayne out at work and an exhausted Lua, the promise of some alone time with you.

“Deal.” He tried to mask his excitement, with his usual grin, the upside down smile that curved to the right, where his dimple was, and you just giggled back at him, with a scoff and a playful roll of your eyes.

“Your friends are over there, I’ll bring your stuff in a minute.” He winked as a form to say thank you, he swung his arms so his and Lua’s hands moved in a way that made her smile, as she squirmed as soon as she saw his friends.

“Stevie!” She screamed in midst of laughter, she waved him hi, as she walked to Robin’s feet.

“Hey Lua.” Robin’s enthusiastic way of calling her name won her a high five, which she used to tease Steve. “I got a high five.” She sang her works in a mocking manner, knowing that Stevie would push her shoulder with his, she ducked a bit, the playful manner making Eddie smile.

“Hello to you too.” Eddie teased back, sitting down on a chair, helping Lua get up to the one next to him. He had forgotten to ask you for a booster, but nodded in an attempt to say thank you as he saw you approaching the table, milkshake in one hand, booster in the other.

“I’ll be right back with the rest of your order.” Your customer service voice becomes a bit more informal everytime you lock eyes with him, the stupid pink flush coming to your cheeks as he just smiled, his friends looking at him with a cheeky grin.

“Is that her?” Robin wasted no time, her hands on the table, and body pushed a bit too forward.

“Jesus! We said we were gonna be subtle.” Steve pushed her back into the chair, the softness of his gesture contradicted his harsh inane tone.

“What? She can be the rude one…”

“C’mon Eddie wouldn’t fall for the rude waiter.”

You heard that, and you weren’t sure what to believe. Were you the rude waiter? Did Eddie actually fall for you? And what does that even mean? You decide to act as if you hadn’t noticed, as if it didn’t really matter. You placed everything in front of who asked for it, but that comment was still on the front of your mind. You didn’t think you had been that rude, it was your eight hour of work, and you were leaving soon so you were exhausted, and maybe that had come out as rude, but still, it kind of hurts knowing that someone might think you are. Even worse if that someone is the best friend of the guy you had a stupid crush on.

Then there was the whole fall issue. Had that been just a poor choice of words? Probably. It had to be, because there was no way that Eddie had fallen, not really. Not in the scary four letter feelings. It was soon, way too soon. You hadn't even had an opportunity to go on that date that he had asked you on three weeks ago.

You were decidedly panicking, fidgeting with the blue pen you used to take orders. Your shift came to an end, and even if Eddie kept looking at you, waiting for you to come so he could actually introduce you to his friends, or alternatively he was trying to find a moment where he could stand up and go ask you if you wanted to meet them, he looked back and you weren’t there this time.

You were having a stress relief smoke that you’ll never admit to once he inevitably asks you about. You can’t think about it, you want to go home, have a shower and stop thinking.

So you did.

Eddie was worried about you, but he was a little too preoccupied with the little tornado in front of him. The sugar rush had hit as soon as he stepped into the trailer. She had been playing “the floor is lava”, placing everything and anything on her way so she wouldn’t actually fall. Once she got tired of it, she started playing house with dolls and teddys she had, now scattered around everywhere. She eventually got tired of that and just danced around to music that for once he could choose, until she passed out, the sugar crush came as fast as the rush had.

Quiet for once, Eddie let out a long exhausted breath, before picking her up. He enjoyed picking her up, knowing that the day would come when he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. She was already with her stolen sleepshirt that she begged to put on as soon as they had arrived. So he put her hair up in a small ponytail, and left her to rest on her small bed, in the same room as he slept.

Someday, when he has more money, more security in himself, he would get a nice place. A house with an extra room so someone can come and sleepover. A house that had their own garden, so she can run around without Eddie having to watch over her anxiously, worried that she somehow stumbled over into the woods, or found trash that didn’t belong in a play area for such a small girl.

That was the goal.

The long term one anyway. Right now he focused on cleaning the mess her little sunshine had made. His hair out of the way, he quietly got into it. The cushions, blankets and -previously- folded laundry was out of the way, the toys were sorted, and the remains of her laughter could still be felt on the walls.

Something was missing. And that was you. And the promise that you had made to come over and have dinner.

So the worrying came back.

Doubt invaded his mind. He didn’t want to bother you, maybe you just forgot. Maybe you had fallen asleep. Maybe you had had enough of him.

But for once, he decided to trust his intuition, and if something deep in his gut told him that it wasn’t okay, he trusted it. He had to.

So he checked that Lua was still sleeping soundly, and he rushed to your door. The frown between his eyebrows appeared once again when he realised that your light wasn’t on. He knocked, slowly, not even realising that he was biting his lower lip, or that he was playing with his rings.

The light didn’t come on, but you did.

The faintest trace of runned down mascara was under your eyes. If that didn’t give away the fact you had been crying a bit, your red runny nose did.

A wave of guilt filled him, though he wasn’t sure why or what to do.

Truth be told, it wasn’t his fault, not really. You just had a tendency to overthink it all. And a weakness for words of people you didn’t know.

the mean one had followed you since you had gotten home. It was stupid, and definitely not that big of a deal, but it had bugged you enough that you had a breakdown nonetheless.

Maybe it was just one more thing that had sent you over the edge, that coupled with the fact that you had your insecurities over not feeling enough for him, or his little girl.

“What happened?” His voice came out softer, lower, imploring for an answer.

“Nothing, long day.” Eddie could tell that you were lying through your teeth. And you knew that he knew by the way his body reacted. Arms crossed through his chest in a self-defense movement he still conserved.

“I’m gonna heat up dinner. If you want some you can come.” You couldn’t decode if his tone was regretful or resentful, but his eyes shined with hope that’d you’d come, so you nodded.

“Give me a second?” He mouthed a muted yeah, as he turned around, his feet skipping the ground in a nervous manner.

Maybe they didn’t mean for you to hear it. Maybe it had been a joke that you had the misfortune to hear. But it still stings, so you switch your uniform for something comfier.

Those jean were barely hanging on by a threat, the seam on the inside of your thighs had started to open in some points, and they didn’t fit you as snuggly as they once did, but they were the comfiest they have ever been, and the most comforting ones -oddly enough- so was the black shirt that had been previously splattered with bleach. It didn’t really matter to Eddie, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He was trying not to show his worry, but he wasn’t that good at it. He was quiet, which he never was, and he couldn’t stop playing with his rings.

He sat down on the stool, right in front of you, the kitchen aisle separating you both.

“Okay look...” You broke the silence. His fork clinging on the cold surface makes your attention shift into it. “I had a little cry over some stupid shit, but I’m fine.” You take a sip out of your water, looking back into his questioning eyes.

“You want to talk about it?” Eddie tries to get more information out of you. His expression softer, caring deeply for you.

“It’s stupid. Honestly.” You try to brush it off, playing with your food in a lazy manner with your fork, avoiding his stare. Because you know that if you do look at him, you’d crumble.

“I don’t care, I like listening to you.” His voice was deeper when he was mid bite, but his world made you fold, and you give in.

“I overheard your friends…” You think he might say something, but he just stays quiet, an embarrassed expression on his face. “They said that you fell for ‘the mean one’” You add, drawing air quotes with your fork still in your hand.

“Jesus…” He added in disbelief. His head was buried in the palm of his hands.

“I know it’s dumb I just… I told you I don’t know how to go around this whole thing and your friends saying that it's just-” He cut you off, even if he didn’t mean to, he knew you were rumbling when it was all a misunderstanding.

“It’s not dumb it’s just… They weren’t talking about you.” Your eyes widened in embarrassed shame. “They were saying that they were glad I didn’t fall for the mean one. They’re happy I have a thing for you, and not Brittany.”

“oh”

“Yeah, they like you. I think. And we met up in the café because they wouldn’t agree to babysit Lua so I can go on a date with you if they didn’t meet you first but I didn’t wanna make it a big deal so…”

“oh”

“Yeah…”

The type of silence had changed. He had that dumbfounded, love-sick smile on his face. Your eyes were shining and your cheeks had become red. His hand was caressing yours, the soft touch invading you with a sense of calmness and warmness. Your lips curled upwards, some of your teeth showing.

“So we’re going on a date?”

“Next Friday, if that works for you.”

“It does.”

“Good.” Amusement clear on his tone, his dimples showing as he went back to eating. His hand not letting go of yours. “Now, finish eating.”

“I will, but I need my hand.” He chuckled with you as he slowly pulled away.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Idiot…” You sentenced before going back to eating. His amusement makes you smile deeper.

“Suddup, you like it.”

For once, Eddie let you help clean up in the kitchen.

After the conversation and the quiet dinner it was hard trying to keep away from him. It felt like magnetism.

And he couldn’t keep resisting you for that long. You were cleaning the dishes, whilst he dried them. His waist bumped into yours every so often with the excuse of dancing to the low music, not wanting to wake Lua up.

“This has to be Led’s best song” He mumbled, watching as you silently mouthed the lyrics.

“Their most popular, maybe… Best one? No way.” You shook your head in disbelief that he would say such a thing, hearing him chuckle at your reaction.

“What do you mean? It’s literally rock history! Jimmy Page’s solo has become one of the most famous ones” He tried to fight back with you, as you continued to smile in disagreement. You stopped the water, looking him dead in the eyes, seeing the way his smile only grew fonder, his usual grin present in his face.

“Sure, Stairway to Heaven had like a huge cultural impact and blablabla but c’mon… Dazed and Confused? Immigrant Song? Black Dog? Tangerine? You Shook Me? You want to talk about guitar solos… Achilles Last Stand has some of the most incredible ones” You argued back, he was impressed, but he was not used to losing, even less so when it came to music.

“Achilles Last Stand is a ten minute song, that’s too long…” You chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising as he looked deep into your half closed eyes from your laughter. “What?”

“If you think ten minutes is too much… We’re gonna have a problem.”

He laughed in deep shock from your words, making you giggle a bit more as a reaction. He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just had an impulse and followed through. His arms wrapped around you, pushing you in for a deep hug, your head hitting his chest, as your arms find a way in his waist.

Eddie gave the best hugs, you thought. This being your first one, you were over observant. His fingers were buried deep in your hair, playing with it. His chest was softer than you had expected. And even if his house smelt of sandalwood and the faint smell of the food you had just eaten, he smelt of aftershave, shampoo and a trace of car grease. You closed your eyes, enjoying it all.

Eddie couldn’t resist the urge to kiss the top of your head. Or let his forehead rest on yours, enjoying the closeness he got to experience. He hadn’t been this close to anyone since before Lua came around. And he wasn’t used to this nervousness or excitement, this electricity with the way your breath mixed with his.

You pulled away a bit, close enough to still count his eyelashes if you wanted to, far away enough that nothing else could happen. You had to be careful, you had agreed to be careful until you could figure it out.

“Moon I…”

“I know.” He whispered back, his left hand cupping your cheek, his thumb caressing it slowly.

You heard the small steps coming from Eddie’s room, Lua had woken up and was looking for him.

“Dada?” She sounded half asleep, with a small panic in her voice.

“Coming.” He added, a frustrated look on his face, his tone remaining calm. He kissed your hand before stepping back. “Duty calls. See you friday?”

“Yes, tell Lua I said goodnight? You asked back, finding your way to the front door.

“Definitely. Sweet dreams princes.”

“Night, moon.”

You closed his trailer door as you saw him walking the corridor where his room was, the little night light giving you a little inside to what his room and his usual nights looked like.

You went to bed that night with a lovesick smile on your lips and hoping that Friday came soon enough.

Friday came faster than both of you had anticipated. You got the whole day to yourself, the morning was slow, and Eddie let you sleep for once, they didn’t come over for breakfast. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had missed them, and Lua’s happy mumbling as she ate whatever you had made. Since it was only you, the bowl of cereal had lasted you until lunch, you just picked at it every time you felt hungry, amidst various house chores.

Clothes were cleaned.

Floors were mopped.

Bathroom was shining.

With a clean bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. It had been two months since you met him, and your smile lines had come back. Your hair had become lighter from the sun, and your eyes shone again. You felt pretty, and you couldn’t wipe the lovesick smile out of your lips if you thought of him.

The water was hot, and it helped your body relax. You were starting to get that nervous excitement, before a date. A date with someone you actually (really) like.

When the time came, you crossed the road, knocking gently on his door, your hands playing with the hem of your dress.

Eddie got choked up as soon as he saw you. The black dress hugged you in a way he wished he could, your legs looked longer and he could get lost in them, even if they were hidden under black tights. But he really got lost in your lips, and the red that you layered over them.

“Hi.” Your voice came out shyer that you intended to. But your smile remained the same.

“Hi…” He couldn’t really form a sentence, his words seemed to be stucked in his throat. “You look amazing, jesus…”

“I could say the same.” He shook his head in disbelief, not really believing you.

He stood there in his usual white shirt and leather jacket, though this time his washed out jeans switched for black jeans that hugged his thighs in a way that made your head swing.

“I uh… I’m going to say bye to Lua, then we can leave.” You nodded, and peered inside for a moment.

Lua was playing on his living room floor, Robin and Steve by her side. He kissed her daughter’s cheek and whispered something that you didn’t catch, his friends waved at you, Robin mouthed a silent wow as she gave you a thumbs up that made you giggle on the inside.

The dinner was finished, and you had downed a couple bottles of wine. You ended up walking for a bit, before deciding to put an end to the night, the stars shining bright.

Eddie had done everything right. He had paid the bill, he opened the doors for you and made an effort to get to know you better. His eyes shining with every word that came out of your lips. He was definitely enamored by you, and the same could be said by you. His hand had not let go of yours since you had left the small restaurant.

His thumb played with the back of your hand, sending sparks through your whole body. You played with his rings, which only made him smile more. He told you that it was the only thing he ever bought for himself. Every year when his age changed, he’d get a new one. “Maybe you’ll get me one” You had teased back, which made him chuckle as he nodded.

His van parked behind his house, his fingers still intertwined with yours. You sat on the back of it for a while, looking at the sky in comfortable silence for a bit.

Eddie’s heart was racing, he couldn’t look at anything but you. You and the way your skin looked under the moonlight, you and the way your eyes looked at the moon. You and your red lips that he really wanted to taste.

You noticed.

Your head left his shoulder, so you could look at him. His breathing mixes with yours, your chest moving faster as your breathing quickened. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his trembling hand came up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your lower lip, asking for permission.

You were the one to break the distance.

In a swift movement, your lips pressed against his. Your heart felt at peace once you did. As if something had finally clicked, something was finally right. He smiled through the kiss as it grew deeper. He kissed you as if you were air and he was drowning. He had been dreaming of this since the moment he first saw you. And he finally got to kiss you, as much as he desired to.

Before pulling away, his teeth caught your lower lip. He was smiling like an idiot, his nose touching yours.

“We should…” You tried to be the voice of reason, knowing that you both had work tomorrow and he had someone to take care of on top of that.

“I know I just… I’ve been waiting for this for a while.” He admitted with glee before kissing you again, giggling in between kisses. His hand getting lost in your hair.

“I know.” It didn’t help that your tone came out in a more intimate matter that you intended to, the wine working its magic for the both of you.

“Do you wanna talk about it tomorrow?” He offered, thinking that you would need time to think things over.

“There’s nothing to think.” You admitted, determination in your voice. “This makes sense. If you’re okay with it I… We could try it? Maybe?”

Eddie couldn’t contain his happiness, kissing you senseless until his breath ran out.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“I can call you my girlfriend and everything?” He teased, a stupid grin on his face that drove you crazy, your head shaking as your smile gre big enough that your teeth showed.

“Girlfriend and everything.” You confirmed.

This time you were the one kissing him, your hands lost in his hair, pulling him in a bit more than he had dared to.

He walked you to your door even if nothing could happen to you, and kissed you goodnight for the first time. And his friends teased him and celebrated with him when he walked in with red lipstick on his lips.

He went to bed that night, knowing that things could only get better from now on.

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf

part 3 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

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authorred · 5 months ago

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Frostbitten | Li Shen/Zayne x reader | Love and Deepspace

➺ Preface: Taking a trip with Zayne up to the snowy mountains was something you were looking forward to. Spending time with him and taking a break from your busy schedules are what you both need. But halfway through your trip, the aether core in your heart acts up, and your weakened heart begins to give.

➺ I was inspired by the one scene in Zayne's branched route trailer where he runs up to MC and carries her when she collapses TEEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE IT'S SO HOT SEEING MEN WORRY LIKE THAT HOOOYYY MMMMYYYYY GAAAWWWOOUUURRRDDDDDD

➺ Part 2

Warning(s): As angsty as I can make it. You almost die, good luck

As you step off of the train and onto the slightly snowy platform, you stretch your limbs and take in a deep breath. “Ah, finally,” you sigh in relief. “It’s no fun being cramped in a booth seat for three hours with nothing to do.”

Zayne comes up behind you wordlessly, carrying the few bags you brought with you on the trip. “Impatient as always,” he says. “Like a child.”

“I should’ve brought my laptop but I decided not to in the moment,” you sigh again. “I should’ve brought it for the actual travel time. Now I feel restless.”

“There’s plenty of things to do while we’re here,” Zayne assures. “It’s a small village, but I’m confident that you’ll find something that piques your interest. It’s rather easy to do.”

You roll your eyes and grab a bag from Zayne’s arm to help him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. I have the attention span of a goldfish.”

“Not quite a goldfish. Perhaps a small dog or a bird.”

You playfully shove him and his body follows through, stumbling a step or two away. You know he could’ve resisted a bit more, easily, but where’s the fun in that? “Shut up and let’s go already. We got a cabin waiting for us.” With that, you begin to stalk off in the direction of the station exit. Zayne doesn’t say anything and trails behind you like a shadow.

The cabin is much nicer than you originally thought. A cozy lounge, a small kitchen and dining area, and a loft upstairs with only one bed ;). There’s a nice fireplace in front of the small sofa with firewood already sat inside of it. It smells slightly of the outside trees, wood, and some hints of smoke.

“Oh, this is nice,” you say, placing your bags on the floor in the foyer. “Cozy and warm. I wonder if the kitchen is filled.”

“Just like you to be thinking of food.”

“It’s getting close to lunch—can you blame me?” You throw him a look over your shoulder before bouncing into the small, but homey kitchen. After inspecting all the cabinets and the small refrigerator you can see some left over nonperishables, bottles of water, pots and pans, and other miscellaneous items. “Mm, seems we’ll have to go into town if we want to actually eat food,” you say. “I’m glad it’s not that far from here.”

Zayne joins you in the kitchen and glances around. “It certainly is quaint,” he says. “Not bad.”

After an hour you and Zayne manage to make a small lunch just enough to tide you over. Afterwards you were planning to walk to the town store to buy more groceries for a proper dinner.

Halfway through your small lunch, you pause your eating. You take a moment, shifting and adjusting your body, rolling your shoulders out. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest—as if the muscles are contracting. It’s a small point of discomfort but one you can’t ignore.

Zayne eyes you curiously, giving you a moment to assess whatever it is that’s wrong. After a few seconds of slight discomfort on your face he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just a weird feeling is all. Maybe I haven’t stretched enough. It feels like a cramp.”

“Where?”

“My chest.” You subconsciously rub where there’s pain, your fingers gently massaging into the skin above your heart. Immediately, Zayne’s face drops in concern.

“Do you have pain in your jaw or left arm? Do you feel tired? Nauseous?”

“What?” You blink at him. “No. It feels like a cramp. I probably didn’t stretch enough after my shift yesterday.”

Zayne doesn’t relax, though he takes your word for it. “I see,” he replies quietly. “Stretching after strenuous exercise is important in keeping muscles from straining or tearing. And to reduce soreness. Please make sure to do it whenever you can.”

You nod, the pain fading, but never disappearing. “I know. I will. After this I’ll do a few stretches and see if it helps.”

Despite your earlier complaint of having chest pain, you still insisted on taking a walk to the town store. Zayne was hesitant, preferring to do it himself or to make sure you’re okay. But your insistence won out, and now you two are traipsing down a beautiful snowy trail to the town.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you say. “Cold, but beautiful. Snowy mountains and terrain are always so picturesque.”

Zayne hums in agreement and looks around at the surrounding area before turning his head to look at you, who’s admiring the distant mountains. His gaze is uncharacteristically soft. “Some things truly are beautiful no matter what.”

You let out a chuckle and nod, still unaware of his eyes on you. “Yeah, it is.”

Halfway through your walk, you start to slow. You pause, taking a moment to breathe. It’s hard to breathe. Like you can’t catch your breath. Every time you attempt to take a deep inhale it’s like your body is stopping you. Dread wells up inside of you but youl try to calm yourself down. The pain in your chest that never fully stopped blooms again, and your face scrunches up in slight discomfort. You take a step back, attemping to collect yourself from the sudden slap of lightheadedness that just hit you.

Zayne stops a few feet away from you and turns, his face scrunching up in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Zayne, I don’t feel good. . .” You start to stumble, and Zayne immediately strides over to you. You reach your hand out to which he grasps tightly. He cradles your cheek in his other hand and looks down at you. His eyes flit over your face, taking in your expression and current physical condition. Your complexion is completely off, and you’re on the verge of losing consciousness. Your vision is blurry and you can make out his face through the lightheaded haze. Your chest hurts a lot.

Without a word, Zayne picks you up bridal style and begins to march back to the cabin. His brows are furrowed in determination and worry, lips pressed in a thin line. He’s not dumb. He knows what it is—it’s your heart. Most likely cardiac arrest from all the issues you have regarding it. He needs to get you medical attention—immediately. If he doesn’t, then—

Zayne shakes his head, clearing it of any unnecessary thought. His focus is making sure you’re okay. His steps are driven forward with the single thought of keeping you alive; heavy and steady. The nearest hospital to the cabin is close to 40 minutes away. He prays to whatever god there is to keep you from death in that time.

“Zayne,” you rasp out, your vision beginning to grow bright and contrasting. “My heart hurts.”

“I know,” Zayne replies softly, walking up the wooden porch of the cabin. “Hang on. Everything will be okay.”

You don’t realize you fall unconscious until the sense of impending doom vanishes.

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. The aether core in your heart destabilized and that caused your heart to give. Fluctuations of your evol forced your body to become unstable, and therefore unpredictable. Zayne managed to contact help but by the time it arrived your body was under so much stress from your heart growing weak, that it became borderline dangerous to perform any intervention on you.

Zayne is but a cardiologist. As brilliant as he is, this is not something within his realm. He knows about Protocore Syndrome and how it can affect the body and the cardiovascular system, but never before has it evolved in turning you into an unstable core yourself.

They had no choice but to intubate and isolate you. Specialists who had an idea of what’s going on said you very well could be a ticking time bomb (you can imagine how that went over with Zayne). Your body pulses and glows, following the veins in your flesh and circling around your heart like koi fish. It would be beautiful, if not for the fact you could possibly explode in a flux of evol so strong you could level the area.

Zayne watches from the observation mezzanine, his brows tightly knit together. He can feel his ice begin to spread across his neck and shoulders, the feeling a burning cold that forces him to look away from you. Taking a few deep breaths, he forces the ice to recede. It hurts. It always does. But he can’t help it. He can’t stop.

His eyes slowly slide back over to you. He knew he should’ve pushed you to take care of yourself more—or done it himself. Why didn’t he do it? Why do you never listen? He knew your heart wasn’t strong to begin with and yet you became a Hunter, go on dangerous missions, ignore instructions. . . something has to be wrong. There has to be a disconnect.

Is it him? Is he too cold? Too detached? If you die—

If you die. . . what then?

Zayne stands there for a moment before turning his head and walking from the observation window. He has a meeting to attend to; one that will decide on how to proceed with this issue. On how to care for you.

His Hunter will not die. Not under his care. Not while he’s alive.

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superblysubpar · 23 days ago

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series masterlist | part two ->

📻 tracks 01 - 07

5,786 words // my blog is 18+ // please see the masterlist for warnings - this chapter contains mentions of cigarettes, weed, sex dreams, and a troubled home life for reader

Her hands tremble as they reach out to him. His eyes close from her gentle cup of his cheeks, though the tender sweep of her thumb across the apple of his right one has them fluttering open.

He wraps an arm around her waist at the sight of her distress, clutching her skirt in fistfuls as he pulls her closer and graces a gentle kiss to her jaw, catching the singular tear fated to drop with his lips before it can.

“I’m gonna be fine.”

His gruff voice against her skin doesn’t sound like he believes it, nor does the way he savors her beneath his mouth, kissing down the side of her neck like he knows he’ll never taste her again.

“You don’t know that,” she whispers into his temple before granting a kiss of her own to the same place.

Her shaking hands lift his jaw so he must look at her, unwaveringly, as she commands, “If you die-“

“I’m not gonna-“

“If you die,” she begins again, stronger, louder, clear in her decision. “I die.”

He knows she means it, her severe gaze promising and threatening and so unbelievably hot-

“Boy!”

Eddie blinked awake, finding his uncle shouting above him and smacking two pot lids together.

His alarm clock flashed red, 12:00 over and over again and he yelped, shooting out of bed as he shouted, “What time is it?!”

Wayne started to retreat down the hall, yelling over his shoulder, “Seven thirty!”

“Fuckfuckshit!” He scrambled out of his room, slipping on open notebooks and campaign books he fell asleep with as he went. Knocking over Old Spice and knickknacks on his dresser when he used a steadying hand against it.

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?!” He accused his uncle as he squeezed too much toothpaste on the brush. He pushed the glob of paste back onto the bristles and shoved it into his mouth and began running the shower.

“Boy,” his uncle came into the doorway just to point a hand holding a pack of cigarettes at him, “You know damn well I go to the diner after my shift. And you’re jus’ lucky I got home when I did, Fran was real chatty this morning.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at the sink as he spit, then muttered, “Fran’s always chatty.”

Wayne leaned against the doorframe like he needed it to hold himself up. He shook his head. “You don’t have time for a shower, you’re already late.”

Eddie threw his arms out wide as if to say look at me, then actually said, “I smell like an ashtray.”

His uncle scratched at his chin, then suggested, “Quit smoking.”

Eddie pushed past him, flicking the pack of nearly empty Malboro’s in his hand as he went. “I’ll quit when you quit, old man.”

That got him a flick of his own to the back of his head and a gruff, “Don’t let the water run! We can’t afford it, especially since you’re getting fired today.”

“Har-har,” Eddie grumbled as the water turned off behind him. He jogged back into his room and scanned the contents of his floor for the clean pile.

He lifted a turquoise and black polo and sniffed it, recoiling from the garment and tossing it over his shoulder as a metal screech of the screendoor echoed down into his room.

Not the clean pile.

He quickly found a new one that didn’t smell as bad and pulled it on as he raced towards the laundry basket in the hallway in search of clean boxers and socks because he at least washes those on a semi-regular basis.

Fully dressed, he shoved his feet into his dirty sneakers and snatched the keys from the bowl by the phone, moving so fast he’s sure he’s created enough wind to actually stir up a cyclone to explain the mess he’s left behind.

His feet stamped against the rickity steps and crunched the gravel beneath them as he spun to yell back at Wayne.

“Thanks for waking me,” he nodded towards the trailer as he walked backwards to the truck, “Casserole in the fridge. And stuff for a salad.”

Wayne’s nose scrunched up at that, smoke billowing of of his mouth as he grumbled something under his breath while Eddie hopped in, rusty blue door protesting the whole way to closed.

“Salad!” Eddie pointed a finger out the open window of the truck at his uncle who waved it away before tapping at his watch. But there was a smirk of a smile on his lips wrapped around the burning cigarette.

The truck rumbled to life on the first try and he kissed the center of the steering wheel, “Good job, baby.”

Balled tires kicked up dust as he spun the wheel and whipped out of the gravel lot and onto the highway. He fumbled with the steering wheel, knee keeping her steady as he pulled a hair tie from around his wrist. He held it between his teeth as his hands worked at the mess on his head, pulling into something manageable as he sped down the two lane blacktop.

And then red and blue lights swirled to life behind him and a siren chirped out into the air once.

Eddie groaned as he spit the tie into his lap and grabbed the wheel with two hands, hair falling limp again. He guided the truck to the shoulder and turned the key. He let his head fall to rest on the steering wheel while he waited, forehead furrowing against the cracking leather.

This girl was good, but he missed his van.

Footsteps stomped towards his open window as a voice too eager to be pulling someone over greeted, “Good morning Mr. Munson! You know why I pulled you over today?”

Cause you’re a dick.

“I haven’t the slightest clue, officer.” Eddie lifted his head to look out the open window at Callahan’s smug face.

He pointed a meaty finger in Eddie’s face, “That’s sheriff to you, Munson.”

“Sorry, sir,” Eddie gritted out, wrapping his fingers around the wheel tighter so he wouldn’t lean out the window and rip each hair of Callahan’s mustache out one by one just to watch him suffer.

Callahan looked amused as he asked, “Were you aware of your speed leaving the park this morning, Mr. Munson?”

“Dude, were you just sitting outside the trailer park waiting for me? I could have you written up for stalk-“

Callahan tapped the roof of the car twice, making Eddie’s teeth grind together in silence again.

“I could have you written up for a number of things, Mr. Munson,” Callahan started. “Calling a member of the police force, dude, for one.”

Eddie stared ahead through his windshield and thought of all the places he’d rather be.

“Or maybe write you a ticket for speeding. Or how about that taillight you haven’t fixed yet?” Callahan crossed his arms, but lifted a finger and pointed like he was onto something, “Or maybe, if I search the cab of this…” he trailed off and gave the truck a grimace before continuing, “Fine vehicle, I’ll find some illegal drugs you have the intent of selling.”

“I don’t do that any-“

His volume and argument quick to die off when Callahan raised his eyebrows like he was just waiting for an accuse to arrest him.

“Please, man,” Eddie tried to get an ounce of patience squeezed out of himself to continue, “I’m already late for work. Can you give me whatever ticket you’re planning to give me so I can just be on my way?”

Callahan glanced at the logo on Eddie’s wrinkled polo and clicked his tongue. “Such a heartwarming thing to name such a fun place after such a nice girl. It’s a shame what happened to her though…”

Eddie’s hands twitched on the steering wheel with the thought of what Callahan was insinuating. Like he had something to do with the mall fire too somehow.

“I thought that the Chief told you that if you made any more comments about the rumors about me somehow being involved in that-“

Callahan raised his arms in surrender, “Woah, woah, woah,” he pressed a hand to his chest, “Mr. Munson, nobody is making any comments here. You have an alibi for that night, as we’re all well aware of.”

Just one mustache hair would be satisfying. No harm, right?

“Well,” Callahan squinted at him, pleased smile on his face, like he was god’s greatest gift to this earth for what he was about to say, “I’ll let you off with a warning today, how ‘bout? No need to make all the kiddos at Holloway’s wait for their fries and skates, right?”

Two mustache hairs. And a punch to the face.

Callahan’s grin widened, like the look on Eddie’s face was all he wanted out of the interaction. “But if you don’t get that tail light fixed and learn to slow down, maybe get to work on time, I’ll have no choice but to bring you in.”

He tapped the top of the truck, grimaced, then rubbed his hand on his pant leg.

Eddie saluted two fingers at him and watched him walk away in his side mirror, rolling his eyes at the way he whistled and walked like he was in a John Wayne movie.

“Prick.”

Once Callahan drove away in the opposite direction, he slammed the stereo on and cranked the tape he had left in, and started to dig around for his pack of Camel’s he swore he wouldn’t break into today.

His tires screeched when he peeled onto the road again, speedometer quickly going much higher than ten over now.

📻 “I’d spend my days alone. I used to stay at home. Lost in seclusion there, like I was in a cell.”

The Judas Priest that had been on in the car was quickly taken over by Top Hits, and his shoulders hunched as Madonna started to play.

Again.

He spun around and handed two pairs of skates to two teens and dully said, “Enjoy.”

One smacked her gum as she pushed the scuffed up pair back over the counter and said, “I said sixes. And these smell.”

“You-“ Eddie bit his tongue as the teen blew a bubble and popped it loudly. He rubbed at his temple, “You said six. So I gave you sixes. Then you said they were too small. So I gave you sevens.”

“Yeah but these are too big,” she put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes.

“How do you know?” He held his hands out to the pair he had quite literally just slid across to her.

“I just know.” She snapped her gum again and his eye started twitching.

“You just know?” He grit out, closing his eyes as Madonna sang about it being time for the good times and he hated that he knew the next lyrics.

When he opened his eyes and his lips parted to say something he hadn’t thought through, you slid up next to him behind the counter.

“Hi there!” You greeted the girls, bubbly and tossing your hair as your hip bumped his. “How about we try a different pair of sixes then? Those other ones might not have been broken in yet.”

“That’d be great,” the teen smiled at you and then let her features fall slack again as she looked at Eddie.

His fist balled on the counter and you slid a shiny pair over to her and exuberantly told the girls to have fun.

Your features shifted as you turned your back to the rink. Your face now turned from perfect customer service ‘pleased to be here’, to more of a dulled delight as you looked at him and gestured to the snack bar with your head. “Go take a break, Mr. Sunshine.”

He shook his head and started grabbing skates for the boys who came up to the counter practically drooling over you and unable to say anything other than their size without taking their eyes off of your profile.

“No way, I was late, I don’t deserve a break. Plus my shift is almost over anyways. You should take one.”

The skates rolled across the glass countertop and the boys continued to blink at you until Eddie flicked one of their foreheads and pointed to the rink, “Beat it, pervs.”

“Be nice,” you laughed, glancing over your shoulder at the boys retreating, causing one of them to trip and take the other down with him.

Eddie gestured to them, “Me? You’re the one out here taking down innocent men without even trying.”

“Shut up.” You knocked his shoulder with yours as you spun around, but smiled at the counter.

He leaned on his forearms and you did the same, and he stared at your profile for a little too long as he said, “Thanks again, for covering for me for being late.”

“No problem,” you smiled at him and then turned to look at the rink again, chin in your palm as you hummed along to the end of Holiday but then added, “I should have came and knocked when I didn’t hear your stereo this morning.”

Eddie looked down at the counter and grimaced, painfully aware of your bedroom window that faced his bedroom window and he mumbled, “Sorry, I’ll keep it down.”

Your shoulders shrugged, polo sleeve catching his as you turned to look at him again, “I don’t mind. I’m not a huge fan of silence anyways.”

He stared at your eyes, something in them duller from the words you’d just said.

Eddie didn’t know much about you yet, it’d only been about a month since your family had appeared next door one morning and you’d waved with a small smile on your face to him and Wayne. Came over and introduced yourself that evening with a plate of brownie squares.

He did know that you rode a bike with a little basket to work every day, that you sat outside at the picnic tables doing something for hours on the days you didn’t work. That you hung up pale yellow sheets on the clothes line in the moonlight as your radio trilled quietly next to you and your parents voices carried over into his open window.

So he swallowed and asked, “Any requests?”

Your eyes lit up again as you nodded and held up our fingers to list your demands.

“You gotta get some more Hall and Oates in your life, Munson.”

Eddie shivered and you laughed, adding on, “Oh and Queen. Fleetwood Mac! Whitney Houston!”

He moaned until your laughter subsided and you continued, “Oh, and you.”

“What?” He blinked at you as you smiled warmly at him. Looked at him in a way that made him think he’d never actually been looked at before, suddenly all too aware of the wrinkles in the shirt that smelled like weed and his hair all pulled into a low bun and frizzy.

“You, I request more of you,” you tilted your head, as you clarified, “Your guitar?”

“Oh,” he cleared his throat and blinked at the counter, “Right, yeah-“

“Are you in a band? I saw you hauling all sorts of…” You trailed off and stood up and nudged your hip against his and hissed, “Save yourself. Take your break.”

“Wha-“ The teen with the gum and size sixes was returning, and he didn’t need to be told twice. “I owe you. Big time.”

“Yeah you do, I like strawberry milkshakes and really expensive shoes,” you pointed at him but then smiled and waved him away. You turned your attention to the counter again and put on your best older sister kind of voice, “Darn it! Those didn’t work either?”

He was fairly certain you were an angel, sent down to earth to somehow outweigh the devilish goings on of his life.

So when he was sitting at the snack bar and watching you, thinking about how he was rudely woken up this morning before anything good could have happened in his dream, it was even worse when he was knocked in the back of the head and told he was drooling.

Steve flipped a chair around and straddled it, sitting across from him and yanking a fry out of the tray. He spoke around the hot potato, “You ass her out yeb?”

“Quit it,” Eddie groaned, yanking his fries back over to himself while he risked a glance back up at you. Watched as your hips swayed behind the counter while you put skates away and sang along to the music playing in the rink.

“God,” Steve snorted and pulled at a loose fry, “You’re down bad. I feel for you, man.”

“I know,” he moaned, head hitting the tabletop in defeat. He sat up and crossed his arms, watching you pull a teddy bear down for a kid who approached with four tickets and he knew you were giving it away for less than what was needed. He quietly admitted, “I had a dream. Last night.”

“Yeah?” Steve sat up eagerly, munching on a fry as he raised his eyebrows.

“You’re such a perv,” Eddie flicked his straw wrapper at him.

“You sicko,” Robin concurred without evidence as she sat next to Eddie with a large lemonade and a boat of popcorn.

Steve frowned when she smacked his hand away from the popcorn as he defended himself, “I did nothing, here. He’s the one who had a sex dream!”

“Shh!” Eddie swatted at him as Robin perked up, straw between her teeth as she asked, “Oh?”

“I didn’t-“ Eddie rubbed at his forehead, Steve and Robin together somehow worse for his head than the teens or pop hits, “It wasn’t like that. It was…a campaign. I fell asleep working on it, and she just happened to be…in my dream about it.”

“Yeah?” Robin asked eagerly as Steve frowned and asked, “That’s it? Did you even kiss?”

Eddie shrugged, “Not like, on the lips. I was going off to fight this…” he waved his hands around as Robin’s lips split in a grin and Steve’s nose wrinkled, “It doesn’t matter.”

“What was she wearing?” Robin asked, chin perched on her interlaced fingers as she batted innocent eyes at him.

“Don’t…” Eddie moaned, covering his eyes as his ears turned red.

“Was it…Return of the Jedi like?” Steve asked quietly, then added, “Because if it was like that dream, then you get a few more points back.”

Eddie opened his eyes to glare at him, “I didn’t have the Leia dream. Robin did.”

Steve raised his hands in surrender. “Listen. You both are nerds okay, I’m just trying to keep up.” He grabbed a fry and waved it around, “Is your warrior elf princess or whatever coming to the party tonight?”

“Is your lady coming tonight?” Eddie threw it back at him with raised eyebrows.

Steve rolled his eyes, perfect little curl over his forehead bouncing as he shook his head. “She’s not-“

“My lady,” Robin and Eddie chimed in together, loudly as Steve sighed.

“And bold of you to call her your lady, when you can’t man up and ask her to be,” Steve poked his forehead with a fry. “No guy who looks at a girl like you look at her should be over here talking to us when he could be over there, with her.”

You seemed to time it perfectly, coming onto the intercom just then, “Happyy Fridaayy! Don’t forget that here at Holloway’s we get that everybody is just working for the weekend. So grab one of our punch cards today! Every ten weekday punches you get a free snack pass! We also know that, everybody wants a new romance - well, Holloway’s is now pleased to offer Skate Date! Saturday nights from five to eight is couples skate. So to grab a piece of her heart, bring her to Holloway’s! We’ll get back to our regular skating, now, but don’t forget! No street shoes on the rink, laces must be tied at all times, kids under the age of five must have an adult with them, and no jumping over the walls. To skate here at Holloway’s, you gotta start from the start!”

Your voice crackled over the speaker, then a cowbell loudly played overhead and Eddie grinned.

He watched as you spun away from the mic and pointed directly at him, mouthing the words along with Loverboy.

📻 “Everyone’s watchin’ to see what you will do. Everyone’s lookin’ at you, oh. Everyone’s wonderin’, will you come out tonight? Everyone’s tryin’ to get it right, get it right.”

Steve stood up abruptly and said, “Let’s go. You’re asking her out.”

“Wha-“ Eddie sputtered as Steve yanked him up under his arms. “Get off me, man!”

“This is pathetic. She’s clearly into you too. Ask her out.” Robin snorted at Steve’s words while Steve straighted out his polo for him, spun him towards you and called out, “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

Eddie glared at him over his shoulder as he stumbled back towards the counter.

He stood on the opposite side though, like he was a customer, hands sweating at his sides as you smiled at him.

“I think that one was my best yet, what’d you think?” You asked before slipping your lips around the straw of your coke.

“Ye-yeah, it was good,” he cleared his throat, wincing at the squeak of it as he watched your cheeks hollow.

“I think Loverboy should definitely be on your evening rotation.”

Eddie winced, playing along and grateful you were easy to slip into conversation with, no matter how nervous he was. “I draw the line at leather pants, sorry.”

“Not a fan of leather,” you nodded, slipping your drink under the counter again, “Noted.”

His mind started to melt thinking about you in leather. Like in his dream. Leather battle vest laced up the back and corset like and-

“I mean…you, if you were wearing it, I’d…” He stumbled over the words and felt a billion degrees warmer than the eighty degree day when you grinned at him all knowing.

“Noted,” you said again, though this time you tilted your head at him before glancing down at the counter.

“Um, so you-“ Eddie tapped the counter, he spun his rings and rocked on the back of his heels before spitting out, “There’s this party tonight and I was wondering if you’d want to go?”

He watched your eyes sparkle, your mouth parted to answer when a customer came up and interrupted.

You apologized to him with a smile and helped the kid with their tickets and prize for the small arcade attached to the rink. He risked a glance back at the table to only find Robin and Steve sharing her popcorn and out right starting. He waved them away, mouthing for them to get lost when your voice made him freeze.

“So…” you drew it out, “This party…is it like a date?”

Eddie spun back to face you, face heated from the smirk on your lips and your gaze cutting to behind his shoulder. He had no doubt in his mind you were watching Robin and Steve do something insanely stupid like pretend to read invisible newspapers or have a wildly animated and over the top “conversation”.

He closed his eyes, and winced, “I mean, not if you…I’m not sure…”

“You’re not sure? If it’s a date? ” You asked and he opened his eyes to find you smiling sincerely at him.

Maybe you weren’t a princess or angel, but a witch, casting a spell on him, determined to have him make deals with the devil instead of preventing them.

“I’m sure that…” He swallowed and took a step closer to the counter, “I’m sure that I don’t think you deserve a shitty house party for a first date so no, it’s not a date. But I’d love to get to know you more. And I’m going, and I know you haven’t met too many people probably so maybe you could do that. And also just have fun. With me. There.”

He stared at you, watched you seem to inflate and deflate in a matter of seconds.

“I have a shift at Family Video after this,” you whispered to the counter, fingers fiddling with the hem of your polo. When you looked up at him, you seemed like a smaller version of yourself as you asked, “Maybe if it’s not too late and I’m not too tired, I could meet you there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, suddenly feeling like a thousand rocks were in his stomach. He had no idea you worked two jobs. “Do you…you ride your bike home after that shift? At night?”

“I get the car at night,” you shook your head no, explaining, “I bike home, drop the bike off, my dad gets home from work and I take that to Family Video.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie gestured to you, “Well if you ever need a ride…I have a semi-reliable truck.”

Your smile was mind meltingly sweet as you looked down at the counter then back up at him again. He swore there was a choir singing when you made eye contact that time.

“Noted,” you said it softly, the third time the best of all. Like you were really taking little facts about him and noting them down.

“So,” he drummed his fingers against the countertop then started to back away, “I’ll see you tonight…hopefully?”

“I’ll be the one in leather…possibly,” you offered and flashed him an even more dazzling smile and he stumbled, turning his back to you as he tried to hide his grin.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He spun to face you, too fast, cheeks warm as you laughed.

“Where’s the party?”

“Oh shit!” A mom walked by with a small child, frowning and he bowed from the to pass, “So sorry, ma’am.”

You laughed as he returned to the counter and quickly scribbled the address on a ticket you passed over.

“Have a good rest of your day, Eddie,” your fingers brushed his as you took the ticket and slipped it in your back pocket.

He offered a discreet thumb’s up to Steve and Robin as he faced them again, and they fist pumped, and he floated back to the table on the sound of your laughter.

Maybe this Summer, working this shitty job, wouldn’t be that terrible after all.

📻 “She didn’t know it was his last cigarette.”

Eddie’s face, hopeful for you to come to the party that night, was all you could think about. Butterflies cracked out of cocoons in your stomach as you remembered how flustered he got from the mere mention of leather.

Allowing the hot Indiana summer night and boy making your sheets cling to your skin wasn’t worth lying in, you decided, especially just to do so while listening to them argue and ruin the giddy hope filling you.

So you climbed out of your window, as you’ve done most nights since moving to this odd town, sketchbook and pen in your hand and the image of Eddie’s hair all tied up today itching to come out of you and onto the paper.

The wet grass clung to your bare feet as you quietly snuck out towards the picnic table in the back field, the moonlight, crickets, and bats your only company.

Or so you thought.

Your hand flew to your chest in shock, your body warmed even more as you became increasingly more aware of what you were wearing and who was sitting in your spot to see you in it.

“Hey,” he spoke first, all shadows and a smile that looked sleepy even from far away, an acoustic guitar on his lap.

You didn’t know much about Eddie Munson yet, but you wanted to. He’d filled more of the pages of the book in your hand than anyone had in awhile. He had a story, one you were desperate to draw out of him, literally on the page, as well as to learn from listening to him tell it in a way only he could.

You knew he had two very close friends in the boy everyone called Harrington who worked at the theater and the girl, Robin, who loved to chat with you whenever she came in. Knew he had a group of boys that followed him around that he pretended to be annoyed by. Knew he brought food over to the girl Max and her mom. Knew he listened to music you didn’t necessarily care for, but loved when he plucked things out on his own guitar, even if you didn’t know for what genre. You’d heard of some rumors surrounding him and the town that you didn’t really believe, because of the things you already knew.

The most important thing that you’d learned about him, was that if he already intrigued you this much, he was dangerous - a risk to all of your plans that you weren’t sure you were willing to take.

So each step forward was a timid one, the summer breeze drifting by fluttered the hem of your shorts, and from the quick glance he gave down at your chest then back up, it seemed to have peaked your nipples as well.

“What’re you doing out here this late?” You asked quietly, though you were far enough away, and they’re loud enough, that you weren’t sure why you bothered to lower your volume.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he offered just as softly.

Now that you were closer, you could see he wasn’t wearing his typical uniforms - his literal uniform or his almost imperceptibly different daily outfit of a different but similar shirt and the same jeans. Tonight it was a cotton white shirt, that ached to be wrinkled by your fingers. There was something about it that made you long for your pencils, to sketch him for hours, like this was the most vulnerable you’d ever get to see him.

“Can’t sleep,” you shrugged, holding up your sketchbook.

“Same,” he nodded to his guitar he laid across the tabletop gently, his notebook, scribbled words taking up a majority of the page.

“You write your own lyrics?” you asked, eagerly taking more steps to close the gap between the two of you to catch a glimpse and Eddie promptly folded the notebook closed as you got within sight.

“Oh come on,” you teased, reaching past him for it, “Can’t I read it?”

Eddie looked up at you, down at your sketchbook, then in a low tone of voice that should be illegal, asked, “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Your thighs pressed together when, despite his confident delivery, the tops of his cheeks turned pink, daring you to take a bite out of them. You didn’t have a doubt in your mind anymore:

Letting yourself have Eddie Munson was dangerous.

“I don’t know you that well,” you shrugged, like you were sorry, taking a step back.

“You could,” Eddie offered.

It sat like a bubble waiting to burst between the two of you. His hopeful eyes and your butterfly infested stomach, waiting for the other one to blink first.

He looked back at the trailers when a particularly loud slam of a door made you flinch.

“How was work?” He changed the subject, body shifting to face you fully and smiling. “I mean your other work?”

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter sandwiched between the sticks and he leaned forward. His elbows on thighs covered in gray sweatpant material, cut with little care and revealing black ink on one of his thighs that dared you to get closer and inspect him.

“It was,” you cleared your throat and looked up at the stars, “It was fine. Typical Friday night rush. How was the party? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

Eddie shrugged. “A party.”

“Not a fan?” You spun slowly, looking at the sky.

Eddie inhaled sharply as you turned slowly, your profile to him and his gaze on the hem of your shorts as he forced out a quiet, “Drunk idiots playing truth or dare and spin the bottle as adults, cheerleaders dating the jocks, still? No, not really.”

You hummed, head on the stars as you got an idea and timidly asked, “Truth or Dare?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I just hung out in the basement with Steve and Robin for most of it.”

He placed the cigarette between his lips and started to fiddle with the lighter. Your heart thrummed as you spun to face him fully and nervously laughed, “No, Eddie, truth or dare?”

You inched closer to him as he looked up at you, unlit cigarette between his lips still, and asked more than said, “Truth?”

Your stomach swooped a little, hoping he would have said dare but a little glad he hadn’t, not sure if you could have followed through. Your knee knocked his as you took a step closer, then closer.

Eddie’s hands caught your waist as you leaned forward and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. His breath grew shallow, chest rising and falling fast in front of you when his hand slipped between the thin shorts and thinner top, resting against your skin. You were close enough to see few freckles across his nose, smell mint on his breath and something woody and spicy in his hair.

Despite knowing it was dangerous, you were starting to not care.

His fingertips buzzed along your hipbone, sending shocks all the way up your spine, like a lit sparkler was cracking and fizzing inside your chest.

Eddie swallowed thickly as the tip of your nose brushed down the bridge of his, his hands flexing on your waist and the way his legs spread to make room for you to wedge between gave you a confidence you hadn’t had before.

“Do I make you nervous, Eddie?” Your question whispered in the centimeters of space between his lips and yours.

“Jesus,” he breathed it out through a rough chuckle, “More than you know, sweetheart.”

Your smile pressed your top lip to his bottom, a quick brush of your mouth against his that he sighed into.

“Good,” you murmured against his plush and pouty bottom lip that was ready to catch you and keep you there.

Then you turned and promptly walked back towards your trailer without looking back at him.

Your tingling lip caught between your teeth suppressed your giddy grin as he called out, “Don’t I get to ask you now?”

Maybe this Summer, in this town, wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

#superbly subpar's writing #summertime magic AU #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson series

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deathbecomesthem · 2 months ago

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Blizzard

Eddie Munson x a Blizzard treat

MINORS DNI - +18 ONLY

For @jo-harrington. This was meant for your birthday, but we know that didn't happen. I love you forever.

Summary: Eddie works at the DQ and gets weird with some ice cream.

CW: Male masturbation, food play, brief discussion of vomit.

Eddie is torn between two paths of thought - needing cash in his pocket, therefore needing to go to work - and wondering what is the point of selling ice cream in the winter. The defroster in the van quit working in early spring, and Eddie had done what Eddie does - put it off. Well, now it’s cold again, and he’s wiping off as much of the frost accumulated on his windshield as he can with the crumbled Burger King napkins he found on the floor of the passenger’s seat.

He’s thinking about simply turning around and heading back into the trailer where he can at least crawl under the comforter in his bedroom to keep warm, and then he remembers that he can’t fix the defroster in the van without some form of income. Goddamn Rick for getting pinched again so soon after the last time. Eddie’s more than a little concerned that the next time he gets picked up it’s going to be for longer than the usual 90 days in lock up. How many strikes has it been? Surely more than three. Eventually Magistrate Johnson won’t be able to turn him loose on the good people of Roann County, even if that means facing the wrath of Rick’s favorite second cousin who also happens to be his wife.

It could be worse, he could be working at the arcade still. It was 4 blissful hours behind the cash register before that red headed kid, Brant?, puked all over Donkey Kong. Eddie had a fleeting thought that he might be able to handle the situation, and then the smell hit him square in the face. He was out the door before Keith could get the mop from the back room, reaching back in to leave his name tag on Pac-Man as an afterthought.

Of course he knows that vomit can happen anywhere, but Eddie is fully prepared to immediately quit any job that requires him to get up close and personal with someone else’s bodily fluids. Technically, it’s a part of his side work to clean the bathrooms at the DQ after close, but technically, no one ever fucking checks, so technically, it’s the problem of whoever opens the next day. It doesn’t matter, this job is just a placeholder. Well, that’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Eddie climbs up into the cab and turns the key. The old girl coughs back, but ultimately turns over. He kisses the ends of his fingers and pats the dash. Good girl. He cranks the defroster while saying a little prayer that maybe it fixed itself overnight. Regardless, he needs that air to keep the windshield from fogging up while he makes his 15 minute commute to the edge of town. It’s a blizzard out there, and the irony isn’t lost on him. Driving in a blizzard to serve blizzards for $3 an hour.

—

“There he is,” Eddie can hear Lynn before he can see her. He’s late again.

“Sorry,” Eddie calls as he shakes the snow off his jacket. He grabs an apron that’s just clean enough to not give him the heebie jeebies, and heads towards the front of the store. “The roads suck, maybe we should just shut it down for the night…”

Lynn is standing at the cash register, but she’s not alone. A customer is standing in front of her, and not just any customer. It’s you. Eddie slows his steps and lowers his head, as if he could disappear behind the curtain of his curls.

“Eddie, can you please get your ass over here and take over the register? I need to get home before the babysitter decides to take off. Three days in a row, Munson.” Lynn doesn’t wait for Eddie to acknowledge her words, she’s pushing her way through the kitchen to the back door while he’s still tying his apron strings.

Eddie takes in a breath and looks up to meet your eyes. He’s pleased to see you still looking at the menu above his head so he can scan your face unobserved. You got your hair cut since he last saw you; it’s sitting on your shoulders under your blue knit hat.

“Can I get a small Oreo blizzard -” you bring your gaze down to the person standing at the cash register and “- Oh, Eddie. I didn’t know you work here.”

It’s a blur, the next 10 minutes. As soon as it’s over, he couldn’t tell you what he said. The only thing he knows is that there’s heat in his cheeks even after he watches your back go through the front door of the store holding the paper cup of ice cream. If you had asked him before this interaction tonight, he would have pegged you as an M&M blizzard person.

Eddie remembers that you liked M&Ms. You sometimes ate them secretly in Algebra class when Mrs. Harrison wasn’t watching. He would watch you reach into the front pocket of your backpack to get a piece of candy, and place it on the end of your red tongue. Just the memory is making the front of Eddie’s jeans uncomfortably tight.

He sighs to himself, you’re not a goddamned teenager, Eddie. He’s looking out into the empty parking lot as your red brake lights disappear in the swirling snow. It really is stupid to be selling ice cream in this weather. The dining room is empty. Hell, the roads are empty. And you’re as hard as a rock, Munson.

Logic is out the window now, his erection is running the show while he prepares the ice cream treat. Not Oreo, but M&M. He tries not to consider that the smell of vanilla soft serve is making him even harder as the vibrations of the blizzard machine travel up his arms. He’s not thinking about where this is inevitably going to end.

Eddie locks the doors - front, side, and back - all with the blizzard clutched in his hand. Vanilla ice cream is melting down the palm of his hand. He scans the street again, only to continue to see no signs of life. He sighs in relief that there are no witnesses to what he’s about to do.

He allows himself to have a brief feeling of regret about not cleaning the bathroom thoroughly before pushing the thought out of his mind. It’s not that bad. Not really. Besides, his back is staying firmly against the door. It’s locked. He lets himself envision your open mouth, tongue peeking between lips. With his free hand, he feels the outline of his erection and moans.

Ice cream is dripping on the floor as he unzips his jeans and frees himself. He brings the ice cream to his mouth and his tongue laps at it. He strokes himself. He licks at the cold, sugary treat. He squeezes and bites the lip of the paper cup. Sticky melted ice cream runs down his chin while he runs his thumb over his slit.

He doesn’t think about it. It’s instinct. His erection shrinks at that initial shock of cold, and then he gets his rhythm. The cup is too small to accommodate his entire length, but Eddie doesn’t even notice. He’s thrusting as hard as he can, his cock threatening to break through the bottom of the paper cup.

Oh, Eddie! I didn’t know you worked here. You look so good. Eddie’s eyes are closed tight. He sees you with that blue knit hat on your knees in front of him. Mmmm, M&Ms, my favorite. It’s embarrassing how quickly he can come just at the image of your open mouth. Your tongue.

Eddie’s hips thrust into vanilla ice cream with crushed candy bits while his jeans are dropped around his ankles until he unloads his need into the back of that paper cup. He’s left with an M&M and jizz blizzard dripping down his thighs at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday evening in a fairly disgusting DQ bathroom.

“Fuck it,” Eddie says, pulling up his jeans over his sticky legs. He wipes up most of the ice cream and M&M pieces from the tile floor, it would be wrong to make Lynn clean that up tomorrow. He leaves his apron and name tag on the counter before walking out the back door.

Maybe Johnny over at the Shell is looking for a clerk.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction

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paceprompting · 2 months ago

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the gingerbread incident

@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas

Eddie was a disaster. He knew this.

His brain fired on all cylinders constantly and his mouth was hardly able to keep up, the residual energy coming out in gesturing with everything that he said. He bumped into everything, even in the trailer where he’d lived most of his life.

And, even with the best intentions, most areas he spent an extended amount of time in were usually left in chaos.

Especially with flour involved.

It’s not his fault he was left alone in Steve’s kitchen. There was supposed to be at least two gremlin children in there with him—he was only supposed to be supervising since it was their bake sale they were making gingerbread what-ever-the-hells for.

But the kids were still rough and tumbling outside in the first snow of the season, annihilating the older not-so-kids-anymore in a snowball fight.

Steve had already picked out a recipe from Joyce’s and Claudia’s cookbooks, opened and ready on the counter. He’d presumably bought anything he didn’t have, because gingerbread was apparently slightly more complex than Eddie would have expected.

So, Eddie took his best shot.

And now, everything was…everywhere.

But there was something that resembled dough, as far as Eddie could tell, in the mixer. It smelled like ginger, or maybe that was the molasses (and who knew there was fucking molasses in gingerbread). And there was supposed to be flour on the counter anyway when he “rolled the dough out,” so really he’s just ahead of the game.

Take that, Directions.

Eddie clapped his hands together, and a cloud of flour into the air, readying to lift his doughy child from the bowl with both hands.

“Holy shit.”

Steve had stopped just short of coming into the kitchen, his discarded gloves held in one hand. His nose and cheeks were still pink from being outside in the cold, but the warmth of his brown eyes were fixed directly on Eddie, standing half-covered in flour in the middle of his kitchen.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie said pleasantly, standing up straight. He brushed a stray one of his curls away from his face, definitely getting flour where his fingers grazed his cheek and temple. “I, uh, decided to make the kids’ gingerbread.”

“And there was enough flour left over after you dumped it on the floor?” Steve said, tentatively stepping onto the tile floor, leaving bootprints in places where, sure, there was a considerable amount of flour where Eddie had knocked a full measuring cup off the counter with his hand.

But that would have happened to anyone.

“I was left unsupervised,” he defended. “While you were all gallivanting outside.”

Steve had the decency to look somewhat chastized, as he set his gloves on a miraculously saved counter near the fridge and joined Eddie on his side of chaos.

“Sorry we left you alone, babe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. He wiped flour off his lips, eyeing the dough in the mixer. “Can I try?”

“I suppose an integral part of the baking process is taste testing as you go.” Eddie gestured to his masterpiece. “Knock yourself out.”

Steve chuckled, stepping close into Eddie’s space to reach past him into the silver mixing bowl. He pinched off some of the raw dough between two fingers and his thumb, raising his brows as he popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” Steve said, poorly holding back a puckered expression as he forced down the piece of Eddie’s dough. “You need to start over. Immediately.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “But I followed the recipe! I read it three times.”

Steve sucked on his teeth, trying to work whatever the taste was of Eddie’s cookie dough out of his mouth. “My best guess, you switched something with salt.”

“What are you talking about?”

Steve pointed his chin toward the mixing bowl, an unspoken, See for yourself.

And Eddie did. Just to prove Steve’ tastebuds, as much as he adored the rest of the man, irrevocably broken, Eddie tore off an even larger piece of his dough. And, purposefully holding Steve’s eyeline, put the dough into his mouth.

And…oh boy.

Barely two chews into it, the main flavor Eddie was getting was indeed what some people might call…salty.

“You might have a point,” he said, words muffled.

He couldn’t bring himself to swallow. He had to turn sharply toward the trash can and spit out the horrible, horrible crime against baking that he had created.

Good fucking Lord, what had he done?

He went next to the sink, sinking his head under the running faucet to wash the rest of the taste out of his mouth. He heard the thump of the rest of the dough following its comrade into the trash, courtesy of Steve.

Satisfied enough that he’d gotten the salt taste out, Eddie shut off the water and turned to face Steve, holding a hand over his mouth as though he could actually hide his smile at his own boyfriend’s suffering.

He should have just waited. Then he could have laughed at Henderson for inevitably making the same, or an even worse, mistake than Eddie had.

Eddie sighed.

“Will you help me with the second batch? So I don’t poison all the kids?” he asked, glancing mournfully at the mess that was going to get a whole lot worse now that Eddie had to start all over.

“Tell you what,” Steve said, opening a nearby drawer and pulling out a blue plaid apron. Eddie watched with widened eyes as he tied it on—looking way too fantasy-like for how many people were around to walk in on them. Steve bumped him out of it with his hip. “You can be my handsome helper. I’ll tell you exactly what I need, and all you have to do is hand it to me. Sound good?”

A front-row seat to Steve Harrington baking in an too-sexy apron? And he wasn’t in charge of the end result?

Sign. Him. Up.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie microfic #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie drabble #steddie fanfiction #established relationship #cute fluff

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austinbutlerslovers · 1 year ago

Text

Hard at Work

Label Mature 18+

Summary You and Austin have been away from each other for 3 weeks as he films the Bikeriders. It’s agonizing for you both unable to physically be together. After pulling some strings Austin is able to have you stay for the weekend and even visit him on set. You finally reunite in his trailer and he immediately uses you to relieve his sexual urges.

Established relationship girlfriend

Fingering•restraint•orgasm•oral sex male•cum eating

Inspo: Anon request 💝 “Austin missing you and not being able to see you or have sex with you but you get to visit him on set one day and he wont have sex at work because he’s professional but he’s so stressed he makes you give him oral instead lots of oral description on Austin and how he uses you for stress relief”

Hard at Work

It’s been 3 weeks since Austin left to Ohio to film the Bikeriders. After being apart from him so long all you can do is fantasize about him. His giant house is empty the staff cleans while you run errands and work out. You comfort yourself in the evening after your shower going through the walk in closet pulling one of his white tees and smelling his scent, vanilla orange blossoms with musk you wear one to bed.

Every night you have facetime sex with him, he has a full goatee now and his voice sounds incredible as he tells you how to pleasure yourself for him as you watch him mastrubate on camera. Every time you close the laptop you feel a twinge of pain you crave his company his touch his everything.

You lay back on his empty king size bed and hug a pillow until you doze off.

You over sleep the next morning the maid knocks on the master bedroom door and you sit up in bed eyes squinting as you wake up . “Just a minute“ you say picking your phone up from the night stand to check the time. It’s blown up with texts and missed calls from Austin.

Austin 8:16 - Baby pack a bag I’m having you flown out

Austin 8:49- Baby where are you? I got approval to have you stay at my apartment ! Please answer

9:09 Missed Call

9:15 Missed Call

9:29 Missed Call

You immediately press call back

You: “Austin oh my gosh baby I overslept I’m so sorry we were on face time so late last night and l I was just missing you so much”

Austin: “Not for long your staying with me this weekend I’m kidnapping you and holding you hostage ”

You smile

You:“Austin I will be the most willing hostage for you “

You both laugh

Austin: “I need you, I’m missing you so badly baby. When I’m alone in the apartment at night after we face time I’m just gutted I want you to sleep here with me . I begged the coordinator to have you stay and they said they’ll allow two days at first to see how it affects my work and if all goes well you can come back longer for the weeks when I’m needed in less scenes. Now that it’s happening I’m just so grateful I’ll get to have you here..”

His voice trails off he misses you so much

You: “Aww Austin I’ll be there soon, I'm so excited you have no idea. I always assume you’ll be away the entire time you work this must’ve been a really big ask”

Austin:“Yea I think it was, I requested 3 weeks ago before I even arrived here and they just granted this morning. Oh! and its freezing here I’m wearing my hoodie and socks right now in the apartment, pack everything warm!”

You: “Okay I will, do you need me bring you anything? Do you need more hoodies?

You giggle

Austin:“Yes! More hoodies and more you!”

You both smile on each end of the call.

You: “Okay let me know all the details. I’m already mentally packing a bag to be there with you ”

You put him on speaker and open your notes app and he explains the dynamics of the trip what time you are arriving who will pick you up. He sends you his door code plane tickets and NDA paperwork to email back signed. Once everything is complete you say your I love yous and hang up.

You let out a shriek of excitement as you run to the walk in closet packing your weekend bag full of sexy lingerie and skimpy outfits to go see Austin. Then you smartly pack your jeans and jackets with his hoodies.

Ohio

It’s just before noon the sun is trying to peek through the overcast clouds covering the city of Ohio. Austin booked you an early flight to maximize his time with you. As you leave the airport after the 5 hour trip you rest your hand on your chin and close your eyes a little tired.

You are wearing black leggings and one of Austin’s black hoodies. His driver adjusts the rear view mirror as he speaks to you. “Austin would like me to make a quick stop at his apartment to drop off your things then promptly bring you to the filming location for the day, I have your passes. “Thank you” you say kindly then remember to text Austin. You snap a a selfie and attach it to the message.

You: “I’m here”

You look out the window and yawn trying to be more alert .

Your phone buzzes

Austin: “Fuck you look so good,I’m so excited you’ll be with me soon. I get a break in my trailer in a few hours I want you there.” He sends a picture of he and Jody comer in their costumes throwing up peace signs making you laugh.

“I’ll be there baby” you type.

You put your phone away and rest you eyes a moment more.

The driver pulls up to a condominium community the camera scans his car sticker in the window the gate opens. He pulls to a stop at the side entrance of the building popping the trunk the sound waking you up.

He opens your door and you exit the car following him as he takes your luggage. He wheels it in as he scans his key fob entering the building. He takes the elevator with you to the second floor exiting into the hall and stopping in front of door B17. You enter the code the lock wizzes open.

“Here is my card if you need anything I’ll be waiting for you downstairs” the drives instructs.

“Thank you” you say again and you giddily enter Austin’s place.

It’s dark inside all his shades are drawn. You click on a light stepping into the living room area and he was right it’s freezing. You check the thermostat its on but clearly not heating the place.

The apartment is a one bedroom Airbnb style set up, amenities with contemporary decor. There is a beige couch and beige curtains on dark hard wood floors. A shelf full of fake decorative vases a television and a desk set up against the window with a computer and a laptop.

You walk over to the desk. Austin has a pod cast mic set up next to his laptop a stack of books and a script. He also a framed photo he snapped of you laying on his bed.

You look back recognizing the chandelier and the bookshelf of vases in the living room realizing this is where he has the face time sex calls you have together making you blush.

You head to the master bedroom, there is a queen sized bed with two night stands, ornate lamps and a bookshelf, his outfit is already laid out on the duvet covers a black hoodie, gray sweat pants white socks. You enter the bathroom he has his skin care products neatly arranged on the counter it’s so cute you can’t stand how organized he is.

You bring your suitcase to the bedroom and undress, adding your plane outfit to his laundry basket and rinsing off. You exit the shower and dry off trembling the air is frigid in the apartment.

You pull your white mini skirt and stretchy black long sleeve v neck top from your suitcase adding boots a scarf with a black trench coat. You know how much he loves you in mini skirts.

Underneath you have a delicate lacy bra and panty set that he loves to feel the texture of on your body, the bra also makes your tits look amazing. You smile looking in the mirror peeking at your outfit thighs and breasts on full display then you tie the trench coat tight covering it all back up. He’s going to devour you.

You make sure to bring the gifts you picked up for him. Dark chocolate, ‘Essential Oils: Stress Relief Kit’ and one hoodie for on set.

As you exit the building the driver opens your door and you climb in with your gift bag feeling refreshed and excited to finally see him.

It takes 25 minutes to drive from the apartment to the filming location for the day.

The driver rolls down his window showing his ID badge at the first security check . You look out the and see the signage for ‘Edge Water Motorsports Park’. As you roll in the grounds are littered with tons of people dressed as bikers, there is a camera crane, camera crew, dozens of set coordiators standing around, extras makeup artists stunt men and personel with clip boards making sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. There is one person in charge with a megaphone progressing the production.

Your stomach is in knots this is such a big ordeal. It always impresses and intimidates you how Austin can just turn on and be in character with all of this chaos going on around him and that all of these people are here for the movie he is the star of. You’ve never been invited on set before and now you are feeling the apprehension as to why.

You drive through the final check point of security the leading cast trailer area. You look in awe seeing the doors with the names Hardy and Comer stopping at Butler .

Two security approach the car one speaks to the driver the other opens your door as you exit withyour gift bag. He hands you your lanyard with a VIP marking

“You keep this on you at all times on set, Austin is expecting you, he’s in his trailer” he says gruffly and you thank him.

The Trailer

You approach the long air bus that reads Butler and smile. You walk up two steps and knock

“Come in” you hear his familiar voice say.

You are so happy your heart begins pounding in your chest. You pull the handle opening the door to his trailer. Austin stops reading and places his script on the table eyes lighting up immediately as he sees you he watches you step in and close the door behind you.

He picks you up so quickly in his strong arms lifting you into a hug. He looks handsome in a different grungy sort of way with his goatee and his biker outfit on

“I’ve missed you so much baby” he says eyes shining with excitement

“I’ve missed you too Austin“ you admit lovingly. Your arms are draped over his shoulders gift bag swinging behind him in your hands as he holds you to him squeezing his arms around your torso.

He lowers you back down and plants a kiss on your lips you tiptoe up wanting more. His eyes light up as he plants another softer longer one but it isn’t enough for you, he smells like diesel and motor oil driving you crazy.

“Austin have you been riding a motorcycle today?” Your voice almost a hush from arousal.

“Yea I did film a riding scene how did you know?” he smiles curiously.

You lean in to him just at the place under his jaw at his neck inhaling his scent again

“Mmm because you smell just like fresh motor oil” you admit and it sparks your passion for him. You trace your finger over one of his biker patches peeking up at him through your lashes

“Austin I need you” you whisper running your hand down the leather vest of his Benny costume.

He smiles bringing his hand to hold your face

“I know I need you too, but we’ll fix that later right now I was only able to request a one hour visit” he winks at you and you smile you tell yourself to be good with him in this setting.

You hand him his gift bag and he looks delighted that you thought of him and immediately digs through it taking out his favorite brand of dark chocolate first “Yes!” he says confirming the choice smiling up at you.

Then he sees the stress relief essential oils and chuckles to himself

“I hope this work”he says making you giggle. He sees his hoodie at the bottom and thanks you with a kiss. He sets the bag down on his table and unseals the dark chocolate taking a bite.

“Come in and get comfortable “ he says as he motions you in and locks the door behind you. He guides you to sit down on his brown leather couch.

You open your coat revealing your outfit as you sit, breasts on display legs crossed showing your upper thighs in the mini skirt, he pauses dumbfounded until he regains his thoughts putting his chocolate bar in the fridge and pulling out a glass jar of filtered water. He continues staring at your body as he pours you a glass and sets it on the low table in front of you.

He pulls his chair from the high table to sit across from you his legs wide apart resting in his chair wondering how he's going to stop thinking about fucking you in his trailer and just enjoy your company while he's on break.

"You look so good" he says already faltering eyes lingering on your exposed thighs in the mini skirt. You intentionally uncross your legs spreading them wide apart showing him your panties. He sits up in his chair full attention on you. He hasn't had you in so long he's craving you now.

You see his unfaltering gaze between your legs and leave the couch climbing onto his lap straddling him as you kiss him. He accepts you hugging his arms around your waist kissing you back slowly.

Your taste your smell your sounds his cock begins to swell being reminded.

"Austin I missed you so much I couldn't think straight" you say taking your lips from his.

“It was the same for me" he breaths as he caresses the nape of your neck.

He pushes his cock against you and pulls your neck to his lips kissing along your throat his tongue sliding out to taste your skin getting more aroused by your neediness for him as you grind your clothed heat back on to him.

"Just show it to me” he whispers. You stand immediately and lift your skirt pulling your panties down they cling to your wetness before you pull them all the way off placing them on the table.

You go to lay on on the couch and let him fuck you but he quickly grabs ahold of your wrist quietly laughing.

"no no I can't take you here" he says whispering "I'm at work....but l'll give you something else" his eyes stare at you daringly.

He pulls you back on to his lap with your legs spread apart pussy completely exposed to him. He pulls your skirt up to the hips looking in your eyes watching your reaction as he reaches his hand between your legs and slides his fingers back and forth on your wet pussy folds.

"Mmmmm Austin!" you cry out finally feeling his touch. He loves watching you get off, but he cups his hand on your mouth reminding you to be quiet as he continues.

"You're already so wet" he whispers. You get wet so easily for him it makes his cock start to get hard when he feels it seeping out of you. "Fuck" he whispers again and slips his long fingers all the way inside of you making you moan loudly . Even though his hand is muffling the sound against your mouth he stills his fingers inside of you.

"I want to make you cum...but if you can't be quiet I will stop ....and I don't want to stop" he says a glint of sexual deprivation in his eyes. "Are you going to be good for me and stay quiet so I can watch you cum"

You nod frantically with his hand covering your mouth wanting him to finish and fight yourself to remain quiet for him.

He begins again gently sliding his fingers in and out of you as your walls grip them tightly. Not having him in so long intensifying your pleasure making you fight the urge to moan so badly it's transcending you to another consciousness. Your face flushes pink and your body writhes against his palm beneath you as you make tiny muffled noises against his other hand cupped over your mouth.

He just stares at your beauty loving his large hand covering your mouth holding back your moans as his fingers derive pleasure out of you pushing you over the edge making you fall apart. He's feeling drunk from your arousal for him, speeding up his movements loving the feel of his fingers squeezing inside of you as his knuckles wetly smack against your entrance. He wants to enjoy his favorite sight of watching you cum for him.

You can't believe you're doing this in his trailer on set with security and staff right outside the door. It makes you want to rush and and try to cum faster your body begins tensing from anxiety as your heart races faster and he can already tell something is wrong.

"Just relax for me" he whispers, slowly removing his hand from your mouth placing it on the back of your neck holding you closer. With the hand that is fingering you he places his thumb on your clit so that with each push of his fingers inside of you his thumb glides on your clit too. It’s such a skilled move you stare at him in awe feeling the pleasure amplifying in your core as your eyes fill with worship for what hes doing to you. He just smiles at you and pulls your neck to his mouth kissing and sucking his favorite place just below your jaw

You give into him completely exhaling small whimpers as he kisses your neck and expertly fingers you into an orgasm, your panting heavily in his ear, rocking and clenching on him. As you start to climax he whispers his praises

"You've been so good for me being quiet, I want to make you cum for me now" you nod profusely feeling the tightness in your core ready to snap at any second.

He pushes his fingers up toward your naval and curls them down pulling in a “come here” motion that has you lose all resolve he fingers your gspot faster and harder until he’s rocking your entire body in his lap. You grip onto his shoulders for dear life as an extreme rush of pleasure floods your core and it snaps as you orgasm for him holding back every loud moan that tries to escape your throat.

When he removes his fingers you whimper, and spread your legs wider wanting more. It gets him so hot knowing you need a second orgasm being without him for so long. He rewards you immediately slipping his fingers back in and pressing his other hand down across your naval plunging his fingers deeper, it feels like he's squeezing the life out of you as you gasp overwhelmed with so much euphoria your vision goes blurry.

He pulls his fingers out and waits until you whimper

“Austin please” you beg, his fingers teasing just near your entrance.

“ You want more?” He whispers

“ Yes Austin Please!” you beg almost raising your voice from how much you need it. He then slips his fingers back inside of you doubling his pace watching your facial expression change as your about to cum again. He's getting off being able to finger fuck you and see you orgasm a second time for him.

When he curls his finger against your gspot while pressing his hand on your naval it makes your body constrict so tightly you can’t breathe you clench on him so hard until you feel overwhelmed and a burst of pleasure erupts in your core releasing liquid all over his fingers as he wetly pounds them between your legs. He stills his fingers when you shudder and collapse against his chest trembling, the double orgasm wrecking you.

"You came so beautifully for me " he whispers in your ear as he pets down your hair, he loved watching how he made you cum twice so much. He carefully pulls his fingers out of you fully covered in your slick. He planned to suck them but the taste of you always turns him on too much and he has to get through more scenes at work.

He decides to make you do it for him.

“Open your mouth for me I want you to taste what I cant have until later” he whispers and you suck him clean from his knuckles to his finger tips.

His lips part and pupils dilate wide watching you, it arouses him so much you feel his cock getting brick hard beneath you .

“I have to get up” he whisper's slightly panicked and you giggle leaving his lap quickly and letting him stand. “Get dressed “ he says eyeing your painties on the table.

You pull them back on as he tries to straighten himself out. The outline of his erect cock is prevalent in his jeans there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

You drop down on your knees in-front of him already undoing his belt freeing access to pull down his zipper. His body is tensing not wanting to cum at work, especially not on set, especially not in his character costume, but he doesn’t stop you hes already consumed with the thought of cumming in your mouth.

His brain starts trying to take over

“Baby I can’t do this at w…” he starts but you finally release his hard veiny cock in your hand making his body jump

“You can’t do what baby?” You ask looking up to him poised to suck his cock. He can’t resist the urge his eyes faltering looking down your top and seeing your breasts in a lace bra and your thighs exposed in the miniskirt riding up to be more like a belt. He wants in your mouth so badly he gives in

“Baby suck my cock ” he begs.

You look at his length pulsing in your hand, bigger and redder than the last time you’ve seen it. He’s been waiting to have sex with you this entire time. You feel a surge of arousal making you wetter rubbing your thighs together wanting to fuck his brains out.

You hold the base and slowly guide him in your mouth a desperate moan escapes his throat when his tip hits the back of your throat filling your mouth all the way up.

You twirl your tongue around the tip and he grips the edge of the table to keep himself steady. You love the sound of him gasping and making small whimpers above as you hollow your cheeks and begin to suck. His eyes are shut tight and he’s panting he needed you so badly

"It’s so good baby” he breaths.

You reach your hand up guiding it underneath his shirt trailing your fingers tips on his rock hard abs. He wants his release down your throat and begins gently thrusting his length in your mouth letting you know he’s ready to cum. You hold firm to his hips tracing your thumbs on the bones there knowing he’s going to go so hard when he orgasms.

He holds your hair in a makeshift pony tail ready to use your face

“You gonna swallow for me baby?” he asks through ragged breaths fucking your mouth faster. You lock eyes with him and you nod with his heavy cock in your mouth making slurping sounds as he’s ramming it in, he presses deeper and your throat clenches around his tip. “ UGHH” he cries loudly from the intense feeling.

He grips your hair harder holding your head steady to milk his cock

“Here it comes ..suck it out of me” he says making you moan on his length twirling your tongue over the head sucking hard on his tip until you hear him grunting loudly as his silky cum squirts across your palette, you relax your throat and swallow it right out of the tip of his cock

“OH FUCK” he yells loudly doubling over. He loses all his strength as you drain him completely dry and he struggles to recover. You are sure everyone outside the trailer heard him.

You release his empty cock from your mouth and catch your breath. Both of your thoughts interrupted by a harsh knock on the trailer door.

You quickly get up and adjust your clothing as Austin zips and buckles his belt checking that you are decent. He opens the door with a causal innocence

“Everything alright Mr. Butler? “ the staffer asks. Austin smiles running his hand through his hair knowing he was too loud.

“Yes just rehearsing lines” He says with a cool cadence gained from his profession as an actor.

“I’m sorry to bother you but you have 10 minutes until take. The golf cart will be here soon do you need anything else before you head back on set?” The staffer asks.

Austin looks over at you and you shake your head no “Were all good “ Austin says nodding to him as he closes the door.

He wraps you in his arms as soon as it shuts nuzzling his nose against your neck planting sweet kisses up to your ear

“You are such a naughty girl making me cum in my trailer” he whispers and you giggle “But man do I feel great now” he smiles.

“I can tell” you say affectionately.

“Yea my stress level has been through the roof … I was so distracted all the time, now I’m so clear headed I probably won’t even need as many takes today” He confesses as he holds you tighter and presses his pelvis into yours

“The fact that you’re going to watch on set today is going distract the fuck out of me, but I’ll probably get my best takes ever thinking about how I get to strip you out of this outfit when I get to the apartment later” He says tracing his fingertip along the lace of your bra peeking out of your top, he takes a hold your jaw tilting your face up and gently kisses your lips in appreciation. He’s so much sexier after you make him cum.

He takes your hand and pushes the trailer door open leading you outside just as the golf cart arrives you both hop in and take a seat behind the driver. He peeks over at you once you’re both settled and smirks watching you smiling dreamily staring off in to space without a care in the world from the orgasms he gave you. He puts. his arm around you pulling you closer enjoying having you back with him again.

You are just lost in bliss daydreaming about the ways he made you cum in his trailer and how he’s going to have his way with you so many more times over the weekend in the apartment . You place your hand on his thigh and squeeze it in anticipation, ready to go see him professionally work hard on set this time.

END

Masterlist

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut fic #austin butler fic #fanfic #smut #austinbutler #austin butler x fem!reader #austin elvis x reader #austin butler fandom #austin butler reader #austin butler imagine #austinbutler x #austin butler x you

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stevieschrodinger · 8 months ago

Text

Part One Two Three Four Five

What the fuck are you even so happy about? You fucked it up. Jesus you both fucked it up. I didn’t even know something like that could happen.

Eddie smiles at his bedroom ceiling in the dim light, “it was amazing.”

You hugged. Congratulations, you hugged a boy. Eddie can feel Billy roll his eyes.

“You don’t get it.”

There’s nothing to get, because nothing actually happened. Because somehow you both fucked up something as simple as kissing.

Eddie laughs, “you mad Billy? Mad you didn’t get to make out with Harrington?”

Fuck off. I don’t give a shit.

“Uh hu,” Billy is finally quiet. He leaves Eddie alone, lets him grin up at the clean ceiling from his clean new bed, in the room Steve set up for him. Filled with the things Steve went out of his way to save from the old trailer. There’s no beeping here, no hospital smells, he’s warm and comfortable and he’s full of Steve’s casserole and mashed potatoes.

The scent of Steve’s aftershave lingering in his nose, on his cheek.

They were going to kiss, Eddie’s pretty sure they were. They were both so close, heads tilted and eyes wide, but someone twitched wrong, something happened, both of them simultaneously sublimating whatever it was they were doing into a hug instead. Steve’s arms wrapped carefully around Eddie’s middle, conscious of the still healing wounds, his face tucked carefully against Eddie’s neck, ‘never done anything with a guy before.’ The whispered confession from Steve Harrington, the soft lips and sharp stubble against Eddie’s neck.

A confession that means he was going to do something with a guy. Or at least was interested in doing something with a guy, and that guy was, presumably, Eddie.

An incredible turn of events, really.

‘Never done anything with anyone,’ Eddie had whispered back, earning himself a snort of a laugh. God natured though. Happy.

‘We can go slow.’

And Steve had left with a big sappy smile and a dorky little finger tip wave and a promise they would hang out tomorrow.

Eddie sighs. Then grabs a pillow so he can scream into it. And then he’s kind of just grinning, laughing a little, he’s just so fucking happy.

Jesus christ, you fuck ups are actually made for each other.

“I hope so.”

What is this we’re doing now.

Eddie ignores him, sets up his DM shield, his books, his dice. Unpacks his pencils, his notes. Eddie always plays it fast and loose, he’s got a vague plan sure. As long as he knows the plan and the motivations of the bad guys, everything else falls into place pretty easily.

So this is the nerd thing you’ve been planning for.

He wants this one to be good; first game with Will the Wise present, after all. Steve’s in the kitchen, left Eddie to set up the finishing touches. They’re going to hang out and watch a movie once all the kids have gone, and Eddie’s pretty sure he couldn’t have planned a more perfect day if he tried. Steve’s even making them snacks. He’s done something to the dining room table to make it even bigger, unfolding some extra hidden bit of wood to make it longer; wild rich people shit.

The bell tolls; the kids are at the door, and Eddie can’t suppress his joy at having all the kids here together, everyone alive and well. Well, except for Max, which is shitty, but all the kids are going to go and visit her after this, so that’ll be nice for her.

He wants to prance to the front door, leap and skip and play he’s so buzzing with excitement for this, but one single hop is enough for his body to remind him, pretty sharply, that he is absolutely not ready for that sort of nonsense just yet, so he walks instead.

Jesus christ, this kid is a straight up savage.

Lady Applejack stares Eddie down over his DM shield.

Could have done with her against the Mindflayer.

“I’m going to attack.”

Of course she is.

Eddie claps joyously, “everyone roll for initiative.”

Eddie’s standing now, can’t possibly just sit with all this going on, “and that is a hit, his mighty war hammer crashing into your armor with a resounding smack, for one D10 of damage…”

“Dustin,” Mike hisses, “how much health do you even have?”

Dustin shakes his head, worried, but doesn’t answer. Lucas is hanging onto Dustin's shoulder, looking down at Dustin’s character sheet. Eddie’s dice clatters on the table behind the DM shield, Lucas signals ‘five’ to will with his fingers.

The whole table collectively holds it’s breath as Eddie watches his die roll and settle on a nine. “It’s a glancing blow! Your armor must absorb some of the hit as you take four points of damage!”

Eddie, no, don’t lie. Kill the little shit-you're too soft on them.

Will immediately starts on his turn, so excited, “I cast Cure Light Wounds!”

Of course he does.

Why is this taking them so long?

The most simplistic puzzles are the best.

Literally all the have to do is match the colors. I can’t believe how dumb they are.

Eddie does his best to hold in the snort. Doesn’t quite succeed and earns a scathing look from Erica. Yep. They are over thinking it a little.

This is so frustrating, how can you even sit through this.

Watching them struggle is the fun. They’ll get it in a minute.

We’re going to grow old and die here.

They sit and listen to the kids argue a little longer, coming up with wilder and wilder theories on how to solve what is the simplest color match game Eddie could come up with.

Baldie is staring at us.

Don’t call her that, Eddie’s reply is reflexive, but Billy is right. El is watching them.

Eddie isn’t surprised when she lingers. Deliberately makes it so that she’s the last standing on the porch. The boys shot off on their bikes, but El, Mike and the ferocious Lady Applejack are hitching a ride with Nancy.

She waves to him through the wind shield, then turns, talking to Mike.

“Do you talk to him?”

No preamble. Just those big fucking eyes looking up at Eddie. Knowing. A little kid should not look like that.

“Yeah, all the time.” In his mind, Billy is still and quiet. Watching warily.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s still a massive dick, so, I guess so, yeah.”

“Does Max know?”

She cuts right to the heart of it, this kid, “she’s the only one who knows.”

She nods, “for now,” and then leaves, running to get in the car without a care in the world.

She’s terrifying.

I know, fucking great isn’t it?

Part seven

#eddie munson #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #steddie #pre getting together #pre steddie #pre metal sandwich #metal sandwich #metalsandwich #ficlet #harringrove #harringroveson #mungrove #ghost of billy hargrove #getting together

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