#and now he has to tutor eddie in the evenings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m0llygunn · 2 months ago

Text

a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air.

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up.

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you.

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt.

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.”

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room.

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs.

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down.

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him.

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you.

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself.

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?”

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.”

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet.

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours.

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand.

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh.

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk.

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed.

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask.

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue.

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter.

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms.

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis.

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing.

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states.

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot.

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt.

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?”

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow.

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of.

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off.

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes.

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern.

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over.

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out.

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms.

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically.

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed.

“That really sucks. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation.

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks.

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs.

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease.

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going.

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance.

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated?

“So can I?” you ask.

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer.

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.”

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?”

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively.

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour.

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer.

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.”

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue.

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying.

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.”

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room.

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod.

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away.

The thing is, you’re not done.

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks.

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim.

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you.

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?”

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless.

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.”

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you.

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal.

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.”

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly, “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion.

“Should I make a move?”

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks.

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes.

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.”

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin.

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile.

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud.

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?”

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly.

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan.

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier.

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more.

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear. “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs.

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck.

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him.

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate.

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his.

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper.

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together.

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely.

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away.

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest.

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need.

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology.

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs.

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm.

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention.

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again.

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.”

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression.

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.”

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks.

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all.

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband.

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly.

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation.

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream.

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.”

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself.

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it.

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief.

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth.

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last.

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base.

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath.

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him.

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes.

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows.

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him.

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums.

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down.

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin.

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation.

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment.

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs.

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm.

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you.

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now.

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath.

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire.

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling.

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill.

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue.

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock.

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs.

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically.

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully.

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs.

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening.

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate.

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie.

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat.

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise.

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 24 days ago

Text

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 1

Or: a secret Admirer AU

Less than a month into the school year, and Steve’s already making use of the library. If Mrs. Click could see him now, she’d be proud–until she caught sight of the blank notebook page in front of him and the lack of textbooks on the table.

He feels stupid; he’s hunched over his notebook, trying to make his thoughts transfer onto the page in any coherent form. But, he’s not like Eddie with his impassioned speeches and clever English papers.

Words flow through Eddie in fully-formed, concrete ideas. For Steve, it’s more of a drip. Each word has to be scaffolded onto the previous one with blood, sweat, and tears. Even then, it’s never quite right. Too abrupt, never what he was actually trying to say.

He’s just never been good with words.

By the time he gives up, there’s more crossed out than left written, so he gets a clean page of paper and transcribes it as best he can. He’s left with:

Your hair is pretty. Do you use conditioner?

Steve tears it from his notebook and lays it flat atop his table in the library, smoothing out any crinkles in the page. It feels like the start to something, sure, but there’s more blank space on the page than words. By a lot.

He leans back over his work, adds a little wonky heart in his blue pen and signs the whole thing—

❤ your secret admirer

—the way all the girls who leave notes in his locker do. Their notes are usually on pretty paper, written in sparkly gel pen that smells like strawberries. The i’s are sometimes dotted with little hearts he’ll never admit to finding cute. And there’s envelopes involved, and usually more than eleven measly words.

His looks like something Eddie’ll toss out before opening, mistaking it for trash.

Steve grimaces. How do girls do this? Do they all take some sort of class on how to write pretty letters on pretty enough paper that boys will fall in love with them? Is that what they teach in Home Ec? He should have never let Tommy mock him into switching to shop class.

Should he ask a girl?

Under no conditions will he ever ask Carol. She’d have far too many uncomfortable questions and tell the whole school all of his embarrassing answers. He’d be run out of town within days, Carol holding the sharpest pitchfork.

Steve leans back in his chair with a groan too loud for the library and fists his hands to rub tired eyes.

“Are you okay?” Steve jerks, sending his pen and paper careening to the ground in his attempt to cover the compromising words upon the page. “Oh, sorry!”

Steve watches, horrified, as Chrissy Cunningham bends down to pick his supplies up off the carpet before he’s had time to scramble out of his chair. She’s in her cheer uniform, white zip-up Hawkins hoodie covering her arms. She looks perfect and preppy and just like all the girls who’ve ever left a note in his locker.

She’d be able to write something that Eddie would want to read.

“Steve?” Chrissy’s hovering over him, lips pursed, eyes big and worried. “Are you okay?”

“Shit, sorry,” he replies. She’s got his note clutched to her chest. He curls his fingers against the urge to reach out for it—that’ll just draw her attention, and that’s the last thing Steve wants right now. “Just got lost in my head.”

“Anything I can help with?”

He knows what she’s going to do before it happens. Chrissy’s sweet—if there’s a way to help, she’ll want to. So, she holds out the paper and begins to read, probably expecting an assignment she can tutor him on, and there they are: Steve’s damning words written in still-wet blue ink.

Her brow furrows as she takes an obscene amount of time mouthing out the words before she looks back up to meet his eyes. “Did someone give this to you?”

Her eyes are still big, but they look sad now, like just the thought of someone receiving the note he’d slaved over is enough to distress her. Unable to help himself, Steve snatches it from her hands and crumples it into a ball, damning words hidden in his fist.

Chrissy gasps at his abrupt movement and takes a halting step away.

“I wrote it,” he mutters, no longer able to meet her eyes.

She’s silent for long enough that he’d think she left, except the library’s quiet, and he hasn’t heard her take a step. He stares at the grains of the wood in the table, empty hand rubbing against the smudged top as he waits for her to do something.

“Are you…” she starts, trailing off for a moment before picking her thought back up, “…picking on someone?”

Steve clenches his fist tighter, note crinkling beyond repair beneath his nails as he mutters, “no.”

Chrissy’s quiet again. Steve doesn’t dare to look up, even as he hears the chair across from him pull out, the sound of her weight settling into the wood. The table’s just so interesting. Nothing has ever been as intriguing as the little chip out of its edge, the ring on the wood where someone had let their drink condensate against all the library’s rules.

“Who’s this for?” Chrissy’s voice is soft now, like he’s some sort of horse, prone to bolting when spooked. “Steve?”

Steve looks up. Her eyes aren’t sad anymore; they’re piercing.

He’s always liked Chrissy. She’s the nicest girl in the school, until someone does something she doesn’t like. Then, it’s all disappointed eyes, and pouty lips. It’s like disappointing his Mom, but worse, because his Mom’s never around to stare balefully at him.

The point is, Chrissy’s nice. She’s not like Carol. If he told her, there would be no lynch mob, or fleeing Hawkins in the dead of the night with nothing but the clothes on his back. Probably. Maybe.

Steve tries to smooth out the page, and scowls down at it when the wrinkles refuse to disappear. It’s even worse now, words made illegible by the deep creases his fingers have pressed into the paper. There’s no way Eddie’d ever want a note like this.

So, he says, “Munson,” looking up to try to watch his meaning land on her face.

It doesn’t. Her foreheads all scrunched up as she looks down at the note. Only then does Steve realize he’s caressing the wonky little heart. He pulls his hand back, curling his fingers in so she can’t see the smudge of blue on his pointer finger.

“And you aren’t making fun of him?”

Steve can feel his shoulders drooping. He wants to disappear into the floor, melt into the carpet and become one with all the other mysterious stains upon it. “No.”

“Oh,” Chrissy replies, drawn out and low as she peers down at the crinkled note with a confused frown. But something must click because she straightens, eyes wide beneath her bangs. “Oh!”

It’s loud enough that they both reflexively flinch. But, when no librarians come skulking around any corners, Chrissy turns back to him, gaze uncomfortably intent. Steve wonders, somewhat horrified by the turn his life has taken, if he’s about to get hate-crimed by a cheerleader half his size.

But Chrissy’s nice—always has been, always will be. So, she bites her lip and looks furtively around like she’s only just realized this is a conversation that shouldn’t have any witnesses. “But you like him?” she whispers.

Steve leans forward, matching her energy and pitch as he replies, “yeah,” quiet enough that it’s barely a breath. Chrissy smiles at him, warm and small, just like her hand as she reaches across the table to put it over his and squeeze comfortingly.

The note sits, damningly soiled beneath their linked hands, wrinkled, and smudged, and barely-legible handwriting. The weight that’d lifted with Chrissy’s smile sinks back into his gut.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Steve says, letting go of her hand so he can pull the note closer to himself. “I’m no good at this stuff.”

Steve crinkles the note back up. It’s unsalvageable—a stupid idea executed badly.

He’s in the middle of stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans to keep his keys company until he can toss it out in the comfort of his home when Chrissy says, “maybe I can help?” voice lilting up, like it’s a question.

Steve meets her eyes, hand still half-shoved in his pocket. She’s all earnest now, the way she usually is when there isn’t a sad boy infecting her with his own ineptitude. Eyes shining with conviction, bangs curling sweetly around her face. She’s no Carol, that’s for sure.

“How?” he asks, and when she smiles, it looks a bit like hope.

***

“I can help you write a better letter,” Chrissy starts. He perks up like a dog the moment its owner gets home. “If you do something for me.”

She feels like scum when he curls back into himself, gaze forlorn.

When she’d caught sight of the note he’d spent what seemed like a full hour pouring over, this isn’t what she’d been expecting. And when she’d finally made out his chicken scratch scrawl, she’d been sure Steve was picking on someone, no matter how unlike him it would have been. But then his shoulders had curled in, and his ears had turned red, and his voice had gone all soft and squishy when he’d said Eddie Munson’s name.

And she’d just wanted to fix it.

So, even as he asks, “what?” all sad and droopy again, she knows she’s going to help him, no matter what he says.

“Date me,” she asserts. It’s only as Steve blinks stupidly at her that she realizes how that came out of her mouth. “No, wait, not really!”

Her hands are waving around wildly and she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. In contrast, Steve seems to come back into himself, shoulders shoring up as he smirks across at her with his signature raised brow. The one he’d used while leaning on Nancy Wheeler’s locker last year, or holding her books as they walked to class, and all the other assortment of stereotypical boyfriend activities.

He’d worn it all the time, like it was part of the uniform.

“I just meant, we could fake it?” His right eyebrow raises to meet his left, forehead scrunching up with his incredulity. “It’s just, Jason and I broke up? And he won’t leave me alone.”

It takes all her strength to keep meeting his eyes as the seconds tick away. But then Steve nods, swings his letterman jacket off, and tosses it across at her. Unprepared for his sudden movement, it hits her in the face and drops into her lap.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he says with a cheesy wink that somehow manages to feel more genuine than any of his actual flirting techniques. “Gotta sell it somehow.”

“What a romantic,” she replies, deadpan, but she pulls his jacket on anyway, something that feels an awful lot like relief steadying her heart rate as she smooths down the too-long sleeves.

Jason’s going to freak out. But after that, maybe he’ll stop calling her house, and trying to put his arm around her at lunch, and trying to pick her up for school every morning. She’d do almost anything to get it into his thick skull that she’s not interested.

So, here she is, hashing out the details of a secret admirer letter from Steve Harrington to Eddie Munson, of all the unlikely pairings.

“What’s wrong with what I wrote?” Steve whines, running his fingers through his hair until it’s all mussed up and falling into his face.

Chrissy snorts. “It sounds like you’re telling him his hair is frizzy and dry.”

“I said it was pretty!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them and pouting his lower lip out.

Chrissy can’t help but laugh. She’s always liked Steve. He’s nicer than most of his friends, and he’s easy to talk to. But this is a side she’s never seen of him. She’s not sure anyone has; can’t imagine Carol or Tommy seeing him put his whole heart into something and not tearing it to shreds.

“Do you use conditioner?” she asks, throwing finger quotations around it as she reads it off the crumpled page.

Steve’s blushing again, cheeks all blotchy and red, rather unbecoming for the shoo-in for this year’s prom king. “Well, I thought you said you’d help!” he says, a little too loud for the library.

So, that’s how she ends up spending the next hour painfully turning Steve’s earnest thoughts into words on the pretty baby blue paper she’d carefully removed from the back of her daily planner.

In the end, they’re left with this:

Eddie –

I wish I could say this to your face, but I’ve never been good with words, and you’d probably think it was a joke.

I can’t even get myself to talk to you, you’re so distracting.

I like how pretty your hair is. How do you get your curls so shiny? I want to run my fingers through them.

I hope this note brightens up your day. You deserve all the smiles you can get.

Yours,

Your Secret Admirer

It’s not what she would write, but still, it’s leagues better than what he’d started with. She slides it across to Steve, and he smiles down at it. He reaches his hand out, fingers almost brushing the page before he pulls his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

“What if someone sees me?” he asks, voice so quiet she can barely hear him even in the resounding silence of the library.

They’d managed not to talk about it, the dangers of Steve liking a boy. But it’d been present in the hesitancy by which he shared each of his thoughts, looking up at her like each remark would be the last straw before she recoils in disgust.

If someone finds out that Steve has a crush on a boy, it won’t take long until he’s getting beat up between classes or heckled straight out of school. Heck, even with all the rumors floating around about him, Eddie might be the one to throw the first punch.

“Do you want me to deliver it for you?” she asks.

“You’d do that?” he asks back, because apparently no one ever taught him not to answer a question with a question. “For me?”

“What else are fake girlfriends for?” she asks because they’re all questions now, no answers to be had between the pair of them.

Steve laughs, all tension leaving his shoulders as he throws his head back with amusement, eyes downright twinkling as he beams across at her.

“You’re the best, Chrissy,” Steve says, smiling even brighter as she replies, “I know.”

She leaves school that night after pushing Steve Harrington’s love note through the slats of Eddie’s locker, Steve’s letterman jacket keeping her warm from the cold.

This might be the best relationship she’s ever had, fake or not. Eat your heart out, Jason Carver.

PART 2

Welcome to my new AU! This will be posted in 21 parts. It is complete, so there will be a new update each morning until it's all posted. I've elected not to do a tag list, but it will be added to my pinned post each day as well. If that's not your speed, it will be added to Ao3 once it's all been posted here.

Special shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for not only their usual fabulous beta work, but also both the original idea and the writing of some of the secret admirer letters. You not only make me a better writer, but this work literally would not exist without you. <3<3

Title of the fic from the song Eyes in the Sun by Florist

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #my fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #this has been a silly goofy wonderful labor of love I am now releasing into the wild for all of you <3 #also for those of you who voted in that poll #i elected to post the batches in about 4k or less parts because that's about my own personal cap for enjoyment in reading fics on tumblr #longer than that and i have a propensity to run out of time and lose it so!#here you go

554 notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 9 days ago

Text

so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing

basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems

anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is

also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao

also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't

---

"You're going to fail my class, Munson."

"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.

Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."

He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."

"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"

"Not the first time."

Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."

"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.

"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."

"What student?"

"His name is Steve."

Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.

He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.

"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."

Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."

--------

On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.

One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.

Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.

He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.

Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.

What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.

"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.

Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.

The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"

Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.

Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.

"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"

"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.

"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."

"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."

"You could've just memorized that."

Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."

Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."

"1,617."

He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."

"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"

"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."

"You don't know Newton's laws?"

Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.

"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"

"It's just...some equation or some shit."

Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"

"What?"

"What do you like?"

Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."

Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"

"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."

Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."

"A what?"

"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."

Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."

"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"

"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."

"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."

"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.

"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."

"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.

"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"

"Yeah, kind of the whole point."

"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"

"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"

Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."

"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."

"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."

"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."

Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"

"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."

"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."

"By...strumming it?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."

He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."

Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."

"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.

Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."

"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.

"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."

"Why not?"

"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."

"Does anyone else know, though?"

"My parents and the teachers. And you."

"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."

"Big boy?"

"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.

He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."

#my writing #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #smart steve harrington #pre-season 1 #y'all don't understand i have a whole 5+1 idea in my head about this #well you do understand if you read the OG post actually lmao #but there's MORE that's the point i'm making here #but i wanted this little set up first #just cuz i love pre-show meetings #and steve cutting off the munson doctrine before it can even begin #also unrelated but do y'all ever think about how the entire world really is just science and math and that's incredible #even art is science or math at its core and science and math are art themselves

479 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 1 month ago

Text

Mad Love - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie goes to visit Dustin at college and meets the Harley Quinn to his Joker at a Halloween party

Note: I had this idea because I needed a good Harley and Joker fix after watching the insane disappointment that was Joker 2.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, alcohol, Harley and Joker are crazy and so is Eddie so what do you expect

Words: 5k

“The party is where?”

“It’s at a house on the edge of campus.”

“A frat house, Dustin. A frat house. How do you even know these guys?”

Dustin sighs and grabs his deerstalker hat.

“I’m tutoring one of the guys who lives there,” he says.

“And this isn’t just some prank?” Eddie asks, a brow raised in skepticism. “Cool frat bro asks his younger, nerdy tutor to come by his Halloween party?”

The shorter man scoffs and shakes his head.

“Clay is a good guy,” Dustin defends. “You think I wouldn’t have been able to sniff out if he was some douchebag bully by now? My asshole detector is accurate, and you know it.”

“Fine.” Eddie picks his purple blazer up from where he laid it over the back of a chair. He slips his arms into it and adjusts it until it’s comfortable. “The music will probably be shit, though.”

“Look dude,” Dustin says, “you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. You can hang out in my dorm. Or one of the dining halls stays open pretty late. Grab some food.”

“Nope,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. His green-tinted curls sway with the motion. “I drove for hours to see your scrawny ass; I’m not going anywhere. Plus, I love Halloween parties.”

“Exactly how many have you been invited to before?”

“Hey, I provided great party favors in high school. I was a welcome sight for the most part.”

“Doesn’t mean ‘invited’...” Dustin mumbles as he adjusts his Sherlock Holmes cloak.

Eddie hears him anyway and knocks the hat off his friend’s head before grabbing the bag of makeup he brought to complete his costume.

Eddie’s first thought when he walks into the frat party is that it looks exactly like every college movie he’s ever seen. Red solo cups are in almost every hand, with a dozen or so already lost or discarded on the hardwood floor. The music is awful, as predicted, and despite the chilly October air, the room feels muggy because of all the bodies crammed inside.

“I don’t know what half these costumes are supposed to be,” Eddie shouts over the thumping bass.

Dustin shrugs in response and the two of them move farther into the room. The deeper into the crowd they get, and the more he looks around, the happier Eddie becomes that he came. Apparently, most college girls like to go for the “slutty” versions of costumes and Eddie can’t say that he minds one bit. A particular girl in a Princess Leia gold bikini catches his eye, but Dustin grabs his arm and drags him towards the stairs before he can even muster up a witty line to say to her.

“Why the fuck did I dress as a clown?” Eddie murmurs to himself.

“Eddie!” Dustin shouts. “This is Clay!”

The older man’s immediate reaction is that this guy looks like a much taller and less douchey Jason Carver. He doesn’t exude the same sense of superiority and holier-than-thou-ness that the Hawkins High basketball player did.

Clay offers his hand to Eddie with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he calls above the music. “Dustin has told me a lot about you.”

Eddie shoots Dustin a smirk, to which the faux Sherlock Holmes rolls his eyes.

“Good to meet you, too,” Eddie says, shaking the man’s hand.

“Keg’s over there,” Clay says, gesturing towards the front corner of the open area, “bathrooms upstairs. Have fun!”

“Thanks, man,” Dustin replies.

Eddie feels like his head is on a swivel, looking in every direction at all the girls around him. He’s pretty sure he’s never been around this many girls in his life.

“Come on, Joker,” Dustin says, patting his friend on the back. “Stop looking over your shoulder like Batman is gonna pop out at any second and let's go get a drink.”

“M’not looking for any man, dude,” Eddie says as they head towards the keg. “Besides, you’re not old enough to drink.”

“Ya know, for a villain, you’re pretty uptight. Especially for one who used to sell drugs.”

Eddie shrugs and swipes up a clean solo cup. He opens his mouth to reply as he takes another step towards the keg, but he’s cut off as he almost bumps into someone also going for the tap.

“Whoa! Sorry there, Puddin’.”

Dark brown eyes go from his own black sneakers to black boots with red laces, scan up one red and one black pant leg, a long sleeve top with the colors on the opposite sides, and up to the prettiest face Eddie’s ever seen—even if there’s a black mask over her eyes. The cherry on top is the black and red jester hat with the small white cotton balls on the ends.

“My apologies, darling,” Eddie croons, sketching a bow. “After you.”

The female clown giggles and shrugs her shoulders coyly.

“Thanks, Mister J.” Her voice is sweet and clear, even above the noise of the party.

Dustin doesn’t need to be dressed as Sherlock Holmes to figure out how Eddie is looking at this girl. The college freshman sees the way his friend’s eyes follow every move she makes as she fills her cup with beer.

“I, uh, see a friend from my chem class,” Dustin says, shooting Eddie a sly smirk. “I’ll leave you clowns to it.”

Eddie nods without really listening, eyes never leaving the red and black dream standing in front of him. Once her cup is filled, she steps aside so her villainous counterpart can take his turn.

“Where you been hiding on me, huh?” Harley asks before taking a sip of her beer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Then again, I guess the white paint and red lipstick could disguise anyone.”

“I could say the same to you.” Eddie nods to where she’s left a red lipstick stain on the rim of her solo cup.

“Well, I do have to admit that I’m not quite as outgoing when I’m not hiding behind a pound of makeup and a mask.”

“And I have to admit, I don’t actually go to school here.” Eddie winces before taking a large gulp from his own cup.

“It’s my lucky night, then!” She grins and reaches out, a red glove tugging on a purple lapel to bring him in closer. “Not here visiting a girlfriend, I hope?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head as he leans into her space. “Visiting a nerdy freshman that I took under my wing last time he was a freshman.”

“Sherlock Holmes?” Harley asks. She tilts her head to the side and Eddie can’t help but smile at how it adorably skews her hat.

“That’s him.”

“That’s so cute!”

The keg starts to gather a crowd, so the dynamic duo steps out of the way. Unfortunately, it’s closer to a speaker that has the music blaring in their faces.

“Outside?” Harley mouths, hitching her thumb over her shoulder towards the backyard.

Eddie nods and follows his fellow jester out into the crisp autumn night. Partygoers mingle in varying costumes, conversations able to be heard out here even over the thumping bass flooding out from the house. There aren’t any empty chairs or places to sit, so the pair decide to take a lap around the yard.

“What do you study?” Eddie asks as they walk side by side.

“Psychology,” she replies, giving a small dramatic bow that lets the white pom pom balls on the end of her hat shake back and forth.

“Ah,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Not just Harley Quinn then, we’ve got Dr. Harleen Quinzel herself.”

“In the flesh,” she says with a cheeky shrug of her shoulders. “Or, well, in the clown suit and makeup, anyway. It’s my last year so I figured it’s time to go all out and have fun. Hence the costume.”

“And I just dress like this regularly,” Eddie jokes, adjusting his purple tie with his free hand. “I’m a natural green head, by the way. None of that dyed shit for me. It’s always so obvious when it’s fake.”

“It goes so well with your deathly pale complexion and naturally thick eyelined eyes,” she says, gesturing to his makeup.

“Don’t forget the au naturale blood red lips,” Eddie adds, puckering them for emphasis.

“Who could forget those lips?” Harley’s eyes darken as she speaks, her gaze drifting down to Eddie’s mouth before coming back up to meet his eyes.

“God, it’s freezing out here,” a girl in a hula skirt and coconut bra complains as she hurries past the clowns with a friend, heading towards the door for the house.

“I’m comfortable,” Harley says, stopping to do a twirl in between steps. “Have no idea why she could be so chilled! They call me crazy, but at least I know to be covered up outside in Indiana in October. Ah, but I suppose that would ruin the sexiness of her costume, wouldn’t it?”

“Well,” Eddie says, not hiding the fact that he’s looking her up and down. He figures he might as well shoot his shot. “You’re literally covered from head to toe, down to your fingertips, and you managed to be the sexiest one here tonight.”

It takes her a moment to recover from the unexpected compliment. Flirting? Okay, she was absolutely doing it too. But Eddie’s words warm her from within and she can feel the heat seeking its only outlet in this costume: her face.

“Aha, but word on the street is that you’re crazy too, Mister J.”

“Maybe crazy, but not blind,” Eddie replies.

She smiles and it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in his chest.

Before Harley gets a chance to open her mouth and reply, the back door of the frat house busts open and a whole gaggle of drunken guys come spilling out.

“Stupid boys,” Harley says, shaking her head. She looks back to Eddie and offers her hand, palm up. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“I’d be delighted.” Eddie’s white gloved hand takes her black gloved hand, and the two intertwine their fingers as they head to the side of the frat house, to walk around to the front.

There are still people streaming into the party. Cars are parked up and down the street and some are clearly circling the block to see where they might be able to squeeze in as well.

Harley leads Eddie across the street and down a side road, away from the chaos of the party.

“So,” she says once they’re far enough away to hear one another easily, “what’s your real name, Joker?”

“Eddie,” he tells her, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “What about you?”

She tells him her name and Eddie can’t help but think how pretty it is.

“But tonight I’m Harley, cause she ain’t as shy as I am,” she says.

“I’m pretty sure Eddie is on the same level of outgoing-ness that Joker is, so I’m good with either,” he says, making her laugh.

The two of them walk towards the heart of campus and come to the point where Eddie actually starts to recognize buildings.

“This is the student center, right?” he asks.

“Yep. The best place to get good on campus, just as a heads up.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind. My buddy says he mostly eats in the East dining hall cause it’s right in front of his dorm building,” Eddie explains.

“That’s the East dining hall right there,” Harley says, pointing to a long one-story building to their right.

“Which makes that Haynes Hall.” Eddie gestures to the looming brick building behind it. “That’s where I’m crashing.”

“Is that so?”

The sultry, suggestive tone goes right to Eddie’s cock.

“Would you, uh, like to see it?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.

“You know,” she says, leaning forward to rest her hands on the lapels of his purple blazer, “I lived there back when I was a freshman.”

Eddie feels his heart drop. Was he reading the signals wrong? If so, what does it mean that she has her hands on his chest right now?

“I’m curious to see how it changed over these past three years,” she finishes.

The grin on Eddie’s face is as wide as the one the fictional character he’s dressed up as usually sports.

“Well, let’s not keep you in suspense any longer,” he says.

Harley gladly slips one of her hands into one of Eddie’s and tugs him in the direction of the twelve-story building. As soon as both of their pairs of black shoes are squeaking down the entryway hall down to the elevator, Harley gently pulls her hand away from Eddie’s to yank off the red and black gloves. The Joker follows suit with his own white ones, wanting to be able to hold her hand without any offending material in the way.

Their fingers lace together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the pair of them, and Harley jabs the elevator up button with her thumb. The silver doors glide open and as soon as he’s inside, Eddie is pressing the button to Dustin’s floor with urgency, before switching to the button that closes the elevator doors.

The moment the doors slide closed behind them, Eddie backs Harley up against the side wall of the elevator and cages her in by resting his arms against the litany of flyers that have been taped up on either side of her head. Her black mask slowly starts to slip down her nose as she gazes up at him. Eddie lowers his head to hers, his mouth only a breath away. A cheerful ding letting them know they’re on the right floor interrupts the almost-kiss.

Her eagerness is clear with the harsh tug she gives Eddie’s arm to lead him out of the elevator and down the thinly carpeted hall.

“Uh, 802,” Eddie says, scanning the room numbers of every door they pass.

“Oops,” Harley says with a giggle. “We’re going the wrong way.” She does a clumsy attempt at a ballet spin to turn one-eighty degrees and face the other end of the hall.

As soon as Eddie starts to think that they’re never going to find this goddamn room, they turn a corner and skid to a halt in front of the correct door. Eddie digs the extra key that Dustin gave him out of his pocket and slips it into the lock.

The moment they’re inside, Eddie is fumbling for the light since he doesn’t know the layout and can’t blindly lead her to the bed. The last thing he needs is either of them tripping on some textbook and breaking an arm.

Dustin’s bed is pushed against the right side of the wall and Eddie already makes a mental note to beg his younger friend’s forgiveness as he’s either disinfecting or burning the sheets later. Speaking of said younger friend…

Eddie doesn’t have the time or inkling to go digging through Dustin’s drawers to find a sock to hang on the doorknob, so he kicks off his sneakers and yanks at his black socks. One gets tossed to the cluttered floor while Eddie opens the dorm door and puts the other on the doorknob. The universal sign that you better come back later—even if this is your room.

Now Eddie can return his attention to the one place he’d like to keep it tonight: the beautiful jester in front of him.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Puddin’?” Harley coos, patting the edge of the mattress.

He sits down where she instructed and is rewarded with the sight of her kneeling on the floor between his spread legs. Eddie drops one of Dustin’s pillows down on the floor—since the bedding is all going to need to be taken care of anyway—and she gives the man above her a grateful smile.

Bare hands work at the belt holding the purple pants up and Eddie can’t keep his eyes off of them. He admires how soft and smooth they look as her fingers nimbly work. She then pops open his fly and drags down the zipper. Eddie lifts his hips and together the two of them push the pants and his boxers down his thighs. His cock springs free, already hard and begging to be touched. Her eyes immediately land on the precum beading at the head and she licks over her lips eagerly. A soft hum from the back of her throat is the only warning Eddie gets before she takes his length in her hand and immediately begins licking up the side of his shaft.

Eddie’s head drops back with a low groan. One hand falls to the mattress beside him while the other gently rests on the crown of her jester hat. When she takes the head of his cock in her mouth, Eddie clenches the comforter that his hand is resting on in his fist.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans. He tilts his chin forward to look down at the sexy supervillain sucking his dick. The bright red lipstick leaves a ring around Eddie’s cock that he never wants to wash off. He watches her go deeper and deeper each time, the crimson smears getting closer to the dark patch of hair at his base.

When her head begins to pick up speed, bobbing up and down, Eddie knows he needs to stop her before the real fun begins. Gently, he presses against her shoulder, which she is able to interpret and pulls her mouth off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him and her black eye makeup has smeared, smudging beneath her eyes and dark tear trails carving a path down the white face paint—all with the mask still in place.

“You’re too good at that,” Eddie tells her with a breathy chuckle.

“Good thing you stopped me, or I would’ve just kept going,” she says, laying her head down on his thighs and looking up at him with eyes shiny from tears. “And where would the fun be in that?”

“Exactly, darling.”

Eddie helps her up from the floor and she takes a seat on the bed next to him. She watches his every motion as he stands to kick his pants and boxers all the way off. Once he’s finished, she turns so her back is facing him.

“Would you mind unzipping me?” she asks.

“Not one bit.” Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to the side of her neck, which causes a shiver to go down her spine as Eddie drags the pull tab in that same direction.

Harley stands and kicks her boots off before shimmying the bodysuit costume down her frame. Eddie’s eyes make sure to capture every last detail of the reveal. With every new area of skin that’s exposed, it becomes his new favorite. The black lace bra and red lace panties make him chuckle.

“Even in the right colors down to that sinful underwear,” he remarks.

“Thought it was only fitting,” she says with the shrug of one shoulder. She kneels down on the bed and leans forward, working on popping open the buttons, first, on the yellow vest beneath the blazer, and then the mint green shirt below that. “Didn’t think that anyone was actually gonna see me like this tonight, so that makes for a nice surprise.”

“Didn’t think you’d be hooking up with someone with clown makeup on?” Eddie teases as he shrugs out of all his top layers.

“I could ask you the same question, Mister J.”

“Mm,” Eddie hums as he slips his arm around her waist and lowers her down to the mattress. “So we’ll be naked, just clowns from the neck up.”

“You’re already naked,” Harley muses, her eyes running up and down his bare form as he crawls on top of her. “Least you can do is make it even.”

A sound suspiciously close to a growl rumbles from Eddie’s throat before he speaks.

“Gladly.”

She arches her back, and Eddie counts his blessings when he’s able to unhook her bra fairly easily. He helps her get it off her arms and throw it somewhere in the dorm to be found later. Next, she lifts her hips off the mattress and Eddie is able to free her of her panties in one fell swoop.

Calloused fingers run up the outside of soft thighs before he lets them trail down to the part most aching for his touch.

Harley feels on edge—his hand is so close and he can’t move it fast enough. A desperate whimper tumbles from her lips and Eddie can’t help but find it adorably endearing.

“P-Please, Eddie,” she whines.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie croons. His fingers travel down farther, and she automatically drops her legs open wider for him. A thick middle finger slides down and up her slit. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

“Want you so bad,” is the only thing she can get out, through a hoarse wispy voice.

“Is my Harley Quinn all needy? Hmm?” Eddie’s voice is soft and slow as his middle finger slides up and presses against her clit.

“Yes!” Her hands grip at Eddie’s upper arms and her eyes practically roll back in her head as he rubs tight circles against her sensitive nub. “Yes, Puddin’. Need you so bad.”

“Tell me what you need,” Eddie purrs.

“You,” Harley whimpers. “Your cock.”

“Whatever my partner in crime wants.” Eddie smirks as he positions his body on top of hers and guides his cock to her entrance. He moves slowly and she feels every inch as he pushes inside of her.

“Feels so good,” she whimpers, reaching up to hold on to some part of him.

“Tell me how good, baby.”

“M’so full,” she whines, hands moving higher so her fingers tangle in his green-tinted locks. “You’re so fucking big.”

Eddie’s hips pick up the pace, building a steady rhythm that makes the mattress below them squeak. Neither can hear over the sound of their labored breathing, though.

Using her grip on his hair, Harley pulls Eddie’s face down to hers and smashes their mouths together. Their lips meld together and tongues dance with one another, only adding to the intense pleasure. A particularly hard thrust of Eddie’s hips has them moaning into one another’s mouths. When the kiss breaks, Eddie buries his head into her neck while Harley’s breaths become even more shallow.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls against her skin. “Feels goddamn perfect.”

Fingers tighten in Eddie’s hair in response, and the man isn’t able to hold back a guttural groan when she gives a small tug on the strands.

“Someone likes his hair being pulled,” Harley murmurs.

Eddie pulls back and looks down at her. He opens his mouth to respond but breaks into strangled laughter before any words can come out.

“W-What?” she asks.

“I had some witty retort questioning if you like your hair pulled, but I can’t even see your hair because of that adorable fucking hat.”

Harley lets out a soft giggle and shakes her head from side to side so the white pom poms on the end of the sides wiggle all over the place.

“How are you so goddamn sexy and insanely cute at the same time?” Eddie asks, a breathy laugh of his own coming out as his hips keep up their punishing pace.

“Mm, well, insane comes with the territory.” She grins and Eddie can’t help but dive back in to press his lips to her again. The red lipstick each of them is wearing smears to combine a shade of red that’s a compromise of both hues.

“Can I take your mask off?” Eddie asks against her lips.

“Please.”

Eddie balances himself hovering over her body before he reaches up with one hand and takes the small black mask off her face. He gently tosses it to land on top of the costume in a heap on the floor before focusing on her face. It’s still covered in white makeup with black tear tracks, but he can see much more clearly what she looks like underneath the whole Harley Quinn getup and it makes him smile.

“Beautiful,” he says, not even realizing he said it aloud at first.

“Not so bad yourself, gorgeous,” Harley says, giving him a wink.

A minor tilt of Eddie’s hips has his cock hitting just the right spot to make her see stars. A mix between a gasp and a moan erupts from her throat as her hands move to grab Eddie’s upper arms. Her fingers curl into his triceps and her eyes fall shut at the immense pleasure of Eddie’s cock repeatedly brushing that perfect spot.

“Holy shit,” she gasps.

“Good, baby?” Eddie coos.

“Uh huh,” she mumbles, forehead crinkling as her mouth falls open in awe. “God, right there, Eddie.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Eddie drills his hips into hers, his eyes boring down at hers as she blinks them open.

Face still scrunched up in ecstasy, Harley stares right back up at Eddie. The combination of him hitting that spot over and over again mixed with the intimacy of the intense eye contact creates a familiar tightening in her lower abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“That’s it,” Eddie rasps. “Come on my cock, sweetheart.” He reaches down and rubs her clit in time with his thrusts into her.

The friction is just what she needs to send her over the edge. Her back arches off the back, pressing her breasts into Eddie’s chest, and she lets out the most beautiful moans that Eddie’s ever heard as the wave of pleasure crashes over her.

The clenching of her already tight pussy around Eddie’s cock has him spilling into her seconds later. His thrusts are sloppy and desperate, but it sends a warm pleasant feeling over Harley as she comes down from her high.

Once Eddie is spent, he rests his forehead against hers. The face paint on both of them has smeared and smudged, now runny from sweat. They just gaze at one another as they attempt to catch their breaths.

“God, that was good.” She finally breaks the silence.

“So fucking good,” Eddie agrees. He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips before rolling to the side and plopping down next to her.

There’s a silence between them that has the potential to turn awkward, but they turn their heads to look at one another at the same time, and they both burst out in laughter.

“Do I look as funny as you do?” Harley asks, reaching up and smearing some of the white paint on his cheek.

“I’m afraid so,” Eddie replies with a nod.

“What a couple of clowns we are.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and brings his hands up to cover his face. When he pulls them away, they’re covered in white and red smears. Harley goes to lift her own hands to her face but stops halfway and lets out a soft squeal that turns into laughter.

“What? What is it?” Eddie asks.

She can’t stop laughing, so she turns her hands to show they’re now green from the coloring in his hair.

“Oh damn,” Eddie says, starting to laugh himself. “I’d say we’re in need of a shower.”

Harley turns on her side to face him and props her head up on her elbow.

“The bathrooms in this dorm aren’t co-ed,” she says. “Buuuut I also know that no one really gives a shit.”

“Dr. Quinzel, are you proposing we shower together?” He widens his eyes in fake shock.

“As long as you lend me something to wear afterwards, Puddin,” she croons, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “I can’t exactly go around looking like this.”

“Looks good to me,” Eddie says with a smirk, which earns him a playful swat on the chest. “Even with the hat.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m still wearing this thing,” she says with a laugh.

“May I?” Eddie gestures towards the jester cap.

“Go for it.”

Eddie undoes the strap that was holding the black and red hat in place and gently removes it from her head. He can’t help but give a goofy grin now that he sees every part of her—except the clear skin of her face.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister J.”

After both clowns have shed their makeup and are squeaky clean, Eddie lends her an oversized hoodie and she pulls her panties back on. Eddie changes into a pair of pajamas he packed with him.

He takes a step over to the bed now that he’s freshly dressed and winces when he sees the sheets. The navy-colored fabric is smeared with white face paint, red lipstick, and black eye makeup—not to mention other spots and stains that Eddie doesn’t even want to think about Dustin finding.

He makes quick work of yanking all the bedding off and shoving it into Dustin’s hamper. Clean? Burn? Both? Eddie’s not sure, but he’s leaning towards the fiery option. If the situations were reversed, Eddie would not want to be sleeping on these sheets ever again.

“Say, partner in crime.” Eddie sidles up next to her and wraps his arm around her waist. “Want to destroy some property with me? Quick question though…is it only arson if it’s a building or does it count for lighting anything ablaze?”

“We can just ask the cops when they arrest us,” she says with a shrug. “I’m sure they’ll know. Or maybe it’ll be Batman who gets us!”

The response makes Eddie chuckle. He leans in, cupping her clean, clear face in both hands and presses his lips against hers. The two of them get caught in the moment, mouths moving fervently, when there’s a voice outside the dorm door.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. This asshole doesn’t get laid the entirety of high school, but now it happens in my room? God damn it, Munson. Stranded out in the hallway as Sherlock fucking Holmes. Just perfect.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic

460 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 3 months ago

Note

eddie x reader, where reader isn’t necessarily popular but she gets along with everyone and is friends with everyone, and eddie is his dorky self, but him and reader start hanging out more and there’s rumors that him and reader are hooking up but they’re not they’re just friends, but eddie realizes these rumors are making him more popular so he doesn’t try to nip them in the bud but the rumors are causing issues for the reader, if u can make it end nice and fluffy id appreciate it, hope this makes sense

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Rumor has it

Y/N doesn't consider herself popular; she is just someone who can hold a conversation with anyone. Which is why no one questioned why she started talking to Eddie.

Eddie knew he was not popular, and he was fine with that. He also didn't see Y/N as popular, and he thinks that was why he loved being around her. She was the only person that was nice and honest.

But since most people knew her, people talked about her. All it took was one wrong person to see them together and start the rumor that they were sleeping together.

The rumor impacted them differently. Eddie was congratulated and got his name on the map. Boys high-fived him in hallways and girls became interested in him. Eddie didn't understand why "sleeping" with Y/N would be the talk of this school, but he enjoyed the attention he got.

It was the opposite for Y/N. Boys began hitting on her now that she had given it up. No matter how many times she said no and that nothing happened with Eddie, no one believed her. She didn't like being seen as someone boys wanted to hook up with. She missed when they were polite and friends with her. But now all they wanted was the same treatment Eddie got.

Y/N sighed as she got in Eddie's van. She ignored the eyes of everyone watching as they drove out of the parking lot.

"I like your top today, by the way, baby," Eddie said, shooting her a smile as he focused on the road.

Y/N felt her face burn and a smile appeared on her face. She muttered a small thank you. But cheered loudly in her head. The more she spent tutoring Eddie, the more she liked him. She wanted his attention and his compliments.

She bought a few new shirts. Some tight and a little low cut to show off her body. She loved the way his eyes never left her when she was near. She was happy that her new clothes seemed to be doing just what she wanted.

"Can we be done now? My brain is going to explode," Eddie whined, throwing his head back.

"Yes, we can be done," Y/N laughed as she closed the book.

"Good because I would rather be doing this," he said, then she felt her body being shifted onto his. She bit her lip as she sat in his lap, hoping he couldn't hear how fast her heart was beating. He leaned in and softly pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't their first kiss, but it made her stomach flutter just the same.

He pulled back and moved his lips down to her neck, loving the way she shuddered.

"This perfume I think is my favorite so far," he muttered against her skin. She moaned as he bit her neck, she would definitely wear this perfume every day.

~~~

"I saw Y/N left school with you yesterday," Jason said as he nudged Eddie with a wink.

"Yeah, we went back to my place," Eddie said, his words were honest but his smirk left a lot to the imagination

"Never would have thought sweet Y/N would get down and dirty with the freak of Hawkins," Jason chuckled as he walked away.

Yeah, the rumor even got bullies off Eddie's back. It was like he was living a dream.

"Can you believe she finally lost her virginity? I heard it was in the bar bathroom after Eddie's set. So trashy" a girl snickered as Y/N walked by in the halls.

Y/N ignored her words, sadly getting used to it ever since the stupid rumor started. She denied it over and over, yet no one seemed to believe her. She wasn't understanding why everyone truly believed it happened when they had no evidence at all.

Well until she finally saw it with her eyes.

"I think I brought her home maybe like midnight?" Eddie laughed as he shrugged, a group of boys surrounding him.

Y/N stopped walking, trying to remain unseen as she listened.

"Is she good?" a random voice asked

"Amazing," Eddie replied

"Y/N freaky? Is that why she picked you? Does she like it rough and dirty or something?" another voice asked

Y/N froze as she realized they were talking about the rumor. She waited anxiously for Eddie to respond

"I don't want to share all our details, but she can tire a guy out," he said, she scoffed at his proud smirk and the way the guys cheered.

She thought Eddie would have been different, but he was just as pathetic as the rest of the boys in the school.

"Oh? How so?" she spoke up, her voice catching all their attention.

Eddie went pale as she came into view, the boys looked between them.

"Maybe you can show me tomorrow night, gorgeous," a boy said, throwing her a wink

She cringed and felt uncomfortable under his stare. His words sent jealousy straight through Eddie. Eddie snapped to look at him with heat in his eyes.

"She's not interested," Eddie said as he butted in

"I think I've had enough of you speaking for me" she snapped, her attention on Eddie. "Maybe I should tell these guys exactly what has been going on between us."

"We already know you opened your legs the same night you met him. We all know you are a whore" the boys snickered as Y/N felt the blow of the words.

"Don't call her that. She is not a whore." Eddie demanded, shoving whoever said it against the lockers

"How is she not? She's all snobby and a stuck-up good girl, now she lost her virginity and makes you go for rounds and rounds. She started wearing more revealing clothes and wearing a new perfume. She wants the attention, she loves it."

Eddie gulped as he slowly turned around to face her. His heart dropped when the tears were already falling down her face. She looked horrified and sick.

"You-you are a virgin?" Eddie stuttered, the guilt was already in his bones but now he felt like he couldn't breathe. The regret and guilt piled on his chest.

Y/N felt her face burn in embarrassment and ran off before anyone could say another thing.

"Shit!" Eddie cussed to himself and ran after her. She was quick but he was faster. She barely made it out the door when he caught her arm. The door closed behind them as they stood at the front of the school.

"Y/N I am so sorry," Eddie said as he turned her around. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she cried.

"Bullshit, Eddie," she scoffed as she wiped her cheeks, "You loved every second of your fake story. I mean I am so stupid for thinking you were different."

"I know, I fucked up. I didn't know people were saying those types of things about you. I'm sorry for being an asshole. I got clouded by all the attention it gave me, and I didn't think to ask why it was such a big deal to everyone and I'm so fucking sorry," he pleaded

"Yeah, it is a big deal! Especially to me. I was shamed for never liking a boy enough to have sex with, then I'm shamed for having sex with you. Which was a rumor, and a rumor you could have shut down with a simple explanation. But no, you wanted to seem cool from all the jocks and enjoy all the attention from girls who never looked your way otherwise. I am sick and tired of being shamed, and it hurts a whole lot more knowing it's because of you."

"Because of me?" Eddie asked, "Why?"

"Because I fucking like you!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth once she realized what she said. Eddie felt his eyes widen.

"I didn't know," he said quietly

"Why would you?" she scoffed, "I forgot that I'm just a plaything in the eyes of boys. Just a good whore."

"You are way more than that," Eddie defended, "Don't talk that way about yourself. You mean way more to me than a plaything."

"But didn't mean enough to protect?" She argued

"I didn't know you were a virgin! I didn't know that a rumor of us sleeping together would do any of this. If I could take it back I would. I like you and I liked knowing that people thought we were together" Eddie tried to defend

"I-I just don't know if I believe you. I think you like how people view you because of me."

"I would have never kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you," Eddie fought, rushing to move his hands on her face. "I wouldn't have noticed new clothes and new perfumes. I'll clear everything up and I'll kick anyone's ass that speaks about you. But please believe me when I say I'm sorry and that I like you."

"I need time," she said softly, he sighed sadly as she removed his hands and walked away.

~~~

The next day at lunch Eddie got on the tables and cleared everything up. He demanded people apologize for the way they treated Y/N and threatened anyone who had the nerve to say anything about her again.

Y/N appreciated he stood to his word and cleared the air. People did apologize but she didn't bother to forgive them. They didn't deserve her forgiveness, and she wanted this situation under the bridge.

A few days passed and Y/N was relieved that everyone moved on. She wasn't as popular anymore, given that she hated everyone and didn't bother to talk to anyone. She was nice to everyone and it got her stabbed in the back.

And for the boys who still decided to speak to her, Eddie handled for her.

"Now that you and Freak called it quits. What if I show you a good time?"

Y/N didn't have time to say anything when Eddie had the boy slammed against the lockers and a huge right hook against his face.

"I thought I made it clear that no one talks about my girl like that."

She wasn't Eddie's girl but the sound of him saying it made her heart race.

A full month passed and Y/N was starting to miss Eddie. She still tutored him, but no more breaks to make out. She kept them focused on school and she went home the second they were done.

She couldn't let herself be weak around him because then she'd be around his finger all over again. She hoped her feelings would disappear within time, but it seemed to still take over her world.

"Alright, think we are done!" Y/N cheered as she closed the textbook. "You should ace this test tomorrow, no excuses."

Eddie smiled as she pointed a finger in his face

"What do you think I'll get?" he asked

"A C plus, but I have faith you could score a B."

"Does the offer still stand if I get my first A?" he asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he nervously waited.

Y/N sighed to herself. She wanted to smack her past self for making the deal

"If I ever get an A, can I ask you to be my girlfriend?" Eddie asked, they both knew he was joking by the way he smiled and laughed

"You just met me! How do you know you want me to be your girlfriend?" she teased

"Because I've never seen anyone more beautiful"

He looked at her as she thought about it in her head.

"I guess we'll see if you get an A," she said, smiling sadly as she got up.

"I'm not going to stop until I get that A, sweetheart," he said with a smile, watching as she made her way out of his trailer. She looked over her shoulder and let out a small laugh.

It was a small moment, but Eddie thought about it all night.

~~~

Eddie knew he would never score an A, the best he could get was a B. But he refused to lose his only shot to win her back. It was wrong, but he didn't care.

He shifted his eyes to look at his neighbor's paper. It was a smart kid who always scored high, so Eddie was confident he was cheating off the right paper.

He answered all the questions he knew and cheated on the ones he had no slight idea of.

He turned his paper in with his fingers crossed and walked out.

The next day he rushed into class, tapping the table as he waited for the teacher to pass him his test.

Y/N was at her locker when she felt her body being turned around and familiar lips placed on hers. Her body gave in before her brain could fight it. Her lips moved with Eddie's as she tasted his mint gum, his hands on her body sent shivers down her spine.

Once she regained control she was quick to pull away

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed as she touched her lips

"Celebrating my big A with my soon-to-be girlfriend," Eddie said with a proud smirk. He held up the test, a huge A written on the top.

"No way," she gasped, grabbing the test. She looked over his answers, all proving the test was correctly examined.

"What do you say? Can we give this a real shot? I promise not to be an idiot with your feelings this time." He promised as he bounced anxiously on his feet

"I still don't know Eddie," she sighed as she handed him the test

"Just a date, one night and we can take it from there?" Eddie asked

"Alright, fine. One date and we go from there," Y/N said. She watched Eddie's face lit up and a huge smile covered him.

"Yes! Thank you!" He cheered, kissing her cheek wet before he raced down the hallway.

His excitement made her smile, maybe a date wouldn't be horrible.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites

624 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

Text

AU where Eddie’s mom manages to get away from Eddie’s dad when he’s a small child, goes to the only place she knows is truly safe: Wayne.

Wayne takes them in no questions asked, helps her raise Eddie, makes sure his dad never comes around (maybe works with Hopper once he’s named Chief to make sure he gets behind bars as soon as possible).

So Eddie gets the love of his mom, and the love of his Uncle Wayne, and shit is still hard, money is still tight, he still has trouble fitting in, but it doesn’t distract him from school so much.

He graduates his first try, squeaks by with Cs and Bs because he’s smart, he’s just so easily distracted. Even gets into the community college, but has no idea what he wants to do until his mom is helping him with a pre-req English course. She says he’s naturally good at unpacking a story for anyone to understand it -“even when I ain’t the brightest star in the sky”- and he realizes maybe his talent of telling stories and helping people understand stories could make him a good English teacher.

Now that he has a plan, he’s focused, invested on getting into a university so he can be certified to teach. But he still struggles with math and unfortunately, he has to pass to move on.

That’s where Steve Harrington, freshman at Hawkins Community and Technical College, comes in. This isn’t the Steve that Eddie remembers from high school at all: he’s quiet and shy, doesn’t make eye contact, is really fucking smart.

Steve agrees to tutor him if Eddie agrees to help him with his final paper in his English course, a 10 page fictional exploration of a time in history.

“Use your imagination!” “Just pretend you’re writing a memoir.” “This is the longest sentence I’ve ever read and that includes Tolkien books.”

Steve blushes, makes corrections when Eddie suggests them, makes flash cards with formulas for Eddie to memorize for his exam.

They spend nearly every day working together, studying together, tutoring each other.

When Eddie passes his exam, he’s so excited, he runs right to the library, where he knows Steve is putting the final touches on his paper. He doesn’t even wait to catch his breath from running across campus to kiss him.

And suddenly Eddie isn’t the only one out of breath.

#someone wanna write this?#someone please take this away from me #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #this could be the 80s or modern tbh #I just think it’s neat to put them in all the situations #migraine thoughts are going crazy today sorry

1K notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 10 months ago

Text

Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."

A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.

This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.

This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).

Word Count: 8679

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else.

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college.

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor.

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction.

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time.

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed.

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears.

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you.

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes.

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air.

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin.

#############

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track.

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled.

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student.

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary.

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile.

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman.

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him.

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes.

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area.

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again.

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking.

Fuck me he’s big.

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance.

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them.

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him.

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9.

No one moved as the three of you stared each other.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces.

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

##############

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure.

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show.

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention.

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you.

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way.

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear.

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue.

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again.

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

#############

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around.

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew.

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else.

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table.

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away.

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face.

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car.

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.”

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level.

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders.

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy.

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before.

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both.

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard.

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway.

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days.

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played.

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life.

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master.

They must have been in two different worlds in high school.

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall.

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch.

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter.

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush.

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you.

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material.

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them.

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you.

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes.

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him.

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control.

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip.

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face.

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together.

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that…

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body.

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans.

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately.

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you.

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks.

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions.

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them.

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest.

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it.

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs.

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward.

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm.

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm.

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core.

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you.

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them.

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass.

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand.

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.”

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit.

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt.

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again.

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him.

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room.

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan.

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met.

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled.

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them.

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his.

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress.

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly.

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest.

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own.

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him.

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps.

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed.

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows.

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward.

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half.

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you.

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips.

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours.

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest.

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit.

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you.

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were.

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you.

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs.

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go.

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom.

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind.

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back.

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped.

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers.

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts.

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you.

##############

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

877 notes · View notes

andvys · 1 year ago

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

series masterlist

Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up.

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going?

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one.

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment.

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles.

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.”

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer.

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar.

“Hey Tony.”

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling.

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?”

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?”

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.”

“With what?”

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.”

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve.

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?”

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is.

“Get lost, freak.”

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness.

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back.

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either.

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales.

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room.

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave.

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about?

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing?

How did you even meet him?

You never even talked to him when you were still with him.

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.”

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.”

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves.

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie.

“Hey! This is too much, kid!”

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there.

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes.

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van.

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him.

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?”

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now.

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.”

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?”

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?”

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily.

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation.

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up.

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?”

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t.

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around.

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion.

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson.

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you.

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance.

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.”

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van.

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on.

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot.

The song takes him back to last year, back to you.

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap.

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling.

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist.

“Uh– probably, Heroes.”

“By David Bowie?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?”

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did.

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?”

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing.

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!”

“Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled.

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips.

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang.

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed.

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.”

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat.

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest.

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve.

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like?

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie.

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van.

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault.

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little.

“We’re here.”

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley.

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat.

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?”

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick.

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again.

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that.

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.”

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods.

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.”

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?”

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much?

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more.

“Spit it out, dude.”

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm.

“T-Take care of her?”

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit.

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again.

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips.

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how?

How?

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up.

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable.

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle.

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick.

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror.

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave.

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?”

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray.

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.”

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie.

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face.

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her.

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face.

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night.

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you.

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones.

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave?

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks.

You nod, smiling at her.

“You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.”

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes.

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned.

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.”

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.”

“As always,” you snort.

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you.

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you.

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.”

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously.

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you.

“Have fun, babe.”

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it.

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates.

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup.

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing.

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness.

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch.

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse.

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it.

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away.

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him.

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink.

You wish you would have stayed at home.

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks.

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened.

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly.

None of it makes sense to you.

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened?

Why is he still with her?

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along?

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill?

Are they already going downhill?

Is that why he told you he still loves you?

So that he has someone to come back to?

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse.

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better.

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat.

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?”

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!”

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.”

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head.

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.”

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always.

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up.

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle.

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance.

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?”

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes.

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease.

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them.

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear.

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders.

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh.

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear.

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do.

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly.

“Okay,” she smiles.

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him.

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden.

His are filled with longing and sadness.

Yours are filled with indifference.

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself.

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

"Yes, please."

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

2K notes · View notes

hippiegoth97 · 2 months ago

Text

Thriller: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Description: You and the entire gang are having a horror movie marathon on Halloween night at Steve's house. You cuddle up in a blanket with your close friend Eddie, and he holds you close whenever you get scared. There's tension building between the two of you, but you’ve always assumed that your feelings aren't reciprocated. But once everyone else has passed out, you two can't seem to get to sleep. You go outside to talk, which leads to an interesting interaction...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, female reader, swearing, smoking, crying, mentions of death/violence/blood/scars/coma, fluff, fingering, unprotected sex, shame/embarrassment, friends to lovers

Word Count: 8.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Thriller

It's Halloween night, and you've got plans to attend a scary movie marathon at your friend Steve Harrington's house. He still lives with his parents, despite the fact he graduated a couple years ago. You'd graduated yourself just a few months back along with Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie, who just barely squeaked by thanks to you tutoring him. You've all been very close for a while now, and tonight is sure to be a blast.

The younger kids of the group are also attending, they’re getting a little long in the tooth for trick-or-treating. Plus, they love hanging out with you and the others. You’re like one giant family, you all know basically everything there is to know about one another. You'd been through a lot these last few years in Hawkins. From Will going missing, to evil Russians, to Vecna trying to take over the world. It’s a miracle you've all managed to survive, but there were many close calls.

Luckily though, with everyone working together, you successfully destroyed Vecna before he could take that fourth and final life he needed to bring the upside down into the real world. Eddie was in a rough spot, accused of killing all those kids. You stayed with him in hiding, comforting him when he had nightmares about Chrissy dying before his eyes. You two in particular became extremely close, you did everything in your power to make him feel better. You played games with him, brought over a Walkman for him to listen to metal music to calm him down. And in return he would talk to you about anything and everything, and you were more than happy to listen.

You'd gone into the upside down with Eddie and Dustin during that final fight, and when you saw him play his guitar to distract the demobats, it was like a fire had been ignited inside of you. He looked so badass, and you realized all that time spent together was making you fall hard for him. You never said so, even when he almost bled to death after being swarmed by the bats. But you helped Dustin pull him out of the upside down, rushing him to a hospital. He was temporarily arrested, cuffed to his hospital bed as he lay unconscious. You found it a bit ridiculous to restrain a man in a coma like that, but you understood the cops had to complete their investigation.

You read The Hobbit to Eddie as he slept, waiting for the day he would finally wake up. You wore his bandana around your arm, wanting to hold a part of him close to you at all times. It had a few drops of blood on it, but you didn't care. The others had come to visit a few times, especially Dustin and Eddie’s uncle Wayne. They'd tried many times to get you to go home or to school, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave Eddie's bedside. Robin brought you your homework assignments, and your mom was gracious enough to bring you changes of clothes as you refused to leave the hospital. You could barely force yourself to go to the bathroom or get some food, you wanted to be there 24/7 on the off chance Eddie woke up. You didn't want him to be alone, you wanted him to know you were there for him no matter what.

During Eddie's slumber, Jason had been found raving mad about Lucas trying to sacrifice Max, screaming about cults and devils. The police had determined Jason had a psychotic break, spurred on by jealousy of catching Chrissy buying drugs from Eddie. They assumed this led to a full-on rampage, and he killed Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick, and attempted to kill Max. The lot of you corroborated the story, since Jason most definitely meant to kill Lucas, and you had to do what you could to save Eddie. There was no way the police would believe stories of alternate dimensions and telekinesis, so you fed them what they wanted to hear.

One day, an officer came to take the cuffs off while you were at Eddie's bedside, and the strangest thing happened. As soon as his name was cleared, Eddie's eyes fluttered open. After a week of no words or movement, he finally opened his eyes and croaked out a single word. "Y/N?" He said as he looked at you. You'd been busy working on your homework for the evening, only acknowledging the cop coming to let him free for a moment. But the second you heard his voice say your name, your head shot up to look at him. "Where am I?" He asked, blinking hard at the harsh lights.

"Oh my god! Eddie, you're awake!" You rushed to his side, taking his hand. "I can't believe it, you're actually awake!" You started crying tears of joy, you'd been told by the doctors there was a chance he'd never come back to you. But he did, and you couldn't be happier.

"I was having the strangest dream-" He kept trying to talk, but it seemed to be hurting him. You put a finger over his lips to still them.

"Don't talk, Eds. Let me go make a call." You ran out of the room, getting the doctor and locating the phone. You dialed Wayne at his hotel, and he said he'd be right over. You went back to the room, picking up the walkie-talkie Dustin had left for you to use in this exact scenario. "Code red, guys. Eddie's awake, code red. Get over here now." You said over the walkie, hoping someone was in range of you.

"Holy shit, what?" It was Dustin, sounding utterly shocked.

"Eddie's awake! Get the others, bring them here!" You shouted, utterly ecstatic. You set it down on a chair, forgetting to switch it off. You heard multiple members of your group chattering to each other, audibly excited to rush over to the hospital. You sat back at his bedside, smiling at him. "Everyone's on their way, okay? Wayne, and all the kids. I'm so glad you're back with us, Eds." You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your cheeks, you really hoped you weren't dreaming. The doctor came into the room, adjusting Eddie's treatment now that he was conscious. He checked his vitals, asking some basic questions to check for brain damage. When Eddie was in the clear, the doctor told you he could go home the next day. They wanted to keep him another night just in case something else came up.

"How'd I end up here, Y/N?" Eddie asked once the doctor left. He seemed to remember everything up until you and Dustin dragged him through the gate. You explained what he'd missed, holding his pale hand in yours as you spoke. He listened intently, oddly taking the news of him being comatose for a week rather well. "They're not still looking for me, are they?" He looked so scared when he asked you that, eyes wide and voice trembling.

"No, Eds. You're clear now, they've taken Jason instead. They think he went crazy with jealousy after catching you with Chrissy." He cringed at hearing her name, and you quickly apologized. "Sorry, I'm just trying to let you know now before someone else bombards you later. He nodded in understanding, squeezing your hand.

"Did you stay here with me this whole time? I swear I could hear you reading to me. The Hobbit, right? Or did I dream that?" His line of questions was eerie to you. Sure, you'd heard somewhere that coma patients can feel and hear people in the room with them, but you always thought that was made up to comfort their loved ones. He noticed your face turning into one of shock, sitting up in bed to look at you sincerely. "Thank you, Y/N. You've been so kind to me through all this, I don't know how I'll ever repay you for that." He spoke quietly, keeping intense eye contact with you. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead.

"Don't sweat it, Eddie. It's what friends do." You replied awkwardly, in absolute amazement as his plush lips sent a wave of heat through your body. You figured he meant it platonically, but you wished it meant so much more. You wanted him to love you, to be with you. But you figured he didn't feel that way, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Little did you know, Eddie had developed some deep feelings of his own. From the moment you agreed to keep him company as he hid from the authorities, he knew you were something special. You made him smile, and comforted him when Chrissy's corpse came to haunt him in his dreams. You brought him his tapes, and played silly games. And above all else, you listened to him. Hardly anyone ever did that, even his closest friends didn't really listen. You'd never been super close before this crazy Vecna bullshit kicked off, but you didn't hesitate to volunteer your safety to look after him so he wouldn't be alone.

You also happily marched into danger with him and Dustin to help distract Vecna's mindless drones so the others could vanquish the veiny bastard. He picked up on how mesmerized you were as he played “Master of Puppets” with all his might, your eyes almost twinkled as you observed him. He could sense you wanted to confess your liking for him, even as he lay limp in yours and Dustin's arms after getting attacked by the bats. He wished you would've, but he supposed at that moment he was on death's door. So what would the point have been? But you, staying there at the hospital the entire time until he woke up, while reading one of his favorite books? Now that was a confession of love if he'd ever seen (or in this case heard) one.

He could hear your beautiful voice calling to him through the prose he knew so well, it was like you were providing a gateway for him to return to the land of the living. He could feel your delicate fingers holding his hand, or stroking his hair while you kept him company. Your efforts were so comforting to him, gradually lulling him out of the deep, dark pit of despair he was stuck in. And it meant everything to him that you were the first thing he saw when he woke up. He also noticed you wearing his bandana, which he ended up letting you keep as a token of his appreciation.

A while later, Wayne and the others piled into the room to see Eddie. He gave everyone hugs, wincing at the pain in his abdomen from all the bites. He didn't care though, he was just so glad to have everybody there. He got the chance to meet El, which was an interesting interaction to say the least. He also got reacquainted with Will, telling him he heard many good things from the others. Argyle made an appearance as well, offering Eddie some Purple Palm Tree Delight to manage the pain of his injuries. He happily accepted, letting you hold onto it for the time being.

Hopper, Joyce, and Murray let Wayne in on all your secrets, they figured hearing the truth from well-established adults would help the news go down easier. He wasn't too pleased with finding out Eddie stupidly tried to sacrifice himself. But after a while, he realized what the alternative would've been. The next day, Eddie went to stay at the hotel with his uncle, but you checked in on him twice a day until his wounds were mild enough to return to school. You'd brought him snacks and assisted him with his bandages during these visits. You'd tried your best to not stare at his bare chest as you cleaned him up, though it proved very difficult to resist.

Eddie never said anything to you about it, but he found it extremely attractive that you were so keen on nursing him back to health. He also highly appreciated you helping him with his late assignments, ensuring he could actually graduate like he was so desperate to do this year. After you'd leave, Wayne always asked Eddie if you were his girlfriend or something, but he repeatedly denied it. Wayne would reply with 'you sure about that, kiddo?', which made Eddie blush like a fool every time.

When Eddie was healed up enough to go back to school, you were overjoyed to see him in the halls again. His wounds were beginning to scar over, one of which was forming a large mark on the left side of his jaw. He was insecure about it, thinking he really was a freak now because of it. People teased him, but you reassured him that if anything, it made him look metal as fuck. That always cheered him up, and it also made him fall harder for you every time you said it. You continued to help him during the sliver of senior year you still had to suffer through, tutoring him to ensure he could walk that stage and flip off the principal just like he wanted. And all thanks to you, he actually did it.

And now here you are, ringing the doorbell to Steve's house to hang out with your awesome band of misfits for the millionth time. "Hey, look who it is!" Steve exclaims, taking you into a tight bear hug. Everyone else has already arrived, taking their places in the living room as they await your presence. Everyone cheers as you walk into the room, slipping off your shoes and jacket.

"I saved you a spot, Y/N. Come get cozy with me." Eddie says with a grin, patting a spot next to him on the loveseat. It’s the perfect size for you two to get real close, one or both of you always call dibs on it whenever the group hangs out at the Harrington household.

"Laying it on thick today, aren't we, Munson?" Robin pipes up, ushering in a roar of laughter from everyone except you and Eddie. Instead, you just look at each other as your cheeks burn red.

"Shut it, Buckley." Eddie grumbles, and you awkwardly plop down beside him.

"Oh, come on! You two are so ridiculously into each other, it's nauseating. It's a shame you refuse to do anything about it, though." Robin retorts, having no qualms about yanking your feelings out in the open.

You scoff, trying to play it cool. "We're just friends, Robin. Lay off, will ya." You curse yourself for the tremble in your voice, it does nothing to help your case.

"Yeah, we'll believe that when pigs fly." Erica chimes in, the others quickly murmuring in agreement.

"Whatever." You roll your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance.

"Alright, alright. Reel it in, everyone. Clearly the lovebirds don't wanna be the focus of the evening. We've got much more interesting entertainment planned anyway, right?" Steve interjects, nodding knowingly at you and Eddie. He tries to divert attention to the movies he'd brought from Family Video, holding up three VHS tapes. "So, what first? I got Halloween, The Exorcist, and Friday the 13th Part 3."

"Friday the 13th Part 3? Why not the first one?" Dustin asks, confused at that particular choice.

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. "Cuz it's the best one, duh! And you know what? Just for that, we're watching it first."

"No complaints here, getting the boring one out of the way is fine by me." Dustin says, settling in with his bowl of popcorn.

"Zip it, Henderson." Steve says as he pops the tape into the VCR. He jogs over to flick off the lights, before joining Robin on the couch. The movie starts to play, and you feel Eddie nudge your shoulder.

"Popcorn, sweetheart?" He asks, giving you an inviting look while shaking a bowl of hot popcorn in your direction. You scoop out a small handful, popping the puffed pieces into your mouth. The two of you always share a big bowl together, and it makes your skin tingle when his fingers inevitably brush against yours. You laugh it off innocently whenever it happens, but you secretly long for it to lead to something more. Eddie pulls a large blanket over your laps, warming you up just the way you like. You lift your legs up onto your seat, turning slightly to sit a little closer to him.

Over the course of the evening, you sense unbelievable tension building between you and the handsome metalhead seated beside you. You're extremely amped from the scary movies, your heart pounding inside your chest as you anticipate the next scare. You love horror movies, but you've always gotten startled by them so easily. Even when it wasn't meant to be scary, random moments set you off, which earn you a laugh from everyone else. You always cling to Eddie when you get frightened, shoving yourself into his chest. He never hesitates to bring you in closer to comfort you, and tonight is no different. His arm is wrapped around you, his fingers lightly stroking your skin to let you know it's okay.

He can't get enough of your little screams and whimpers, appreciating every little move you make to get closer to him. He wishes you wanted to be close in other ways, and he's been dreaming of making you whimper and scream for entirely different reasons. Eddie's ashamed of it, but you plague his mind to a point where he can't go a single night without jerking off to the thought of you.

Before you know it, the final film's credits are rolling, and everyone around you is either asleep or failing to fight off a yawn. Steve gets up to flick off the tv, heading up to his bedroom after saying goodnight. You and Eddie are still awake, you really don't know how you're supposed to sleep after seeing all the killers on screen, or the sizzling touches Eddie has been giving you all night. "Goodnight, guys. Happy Halloween." Nancy whispers, nuzzling against Jonathan's shoulder as she drifts off to sleep.

"Goodnight, Eddie. Happy Halloween." You whisper to him, getting into position for sleep. You both lay your heads on opposite ends of the loveseat, cuddling would just be too tempting for either of you.

"Happy Halloween, Y/N." He whispers back, laying on the outside to keep you tucked safely against the back of the little couch. You close your eyes, trying to calm your frayed nerves. You can hear others around you snoring, Argyle is particularly loud in that regard. You're finding it difficult to fall asleep, and you try everything. Counting sheep, doing math problems in your head, anything boring you can think of to knock yourself out. But as long as Eddie is lying right next to you, you can't do it. You sigh, trying not to be too loud. "Can't sleep either, huh?" Eddie says quietly, almost startling you in the silence.

"Nope, wanna sneak out back for a smoke?" You ask, sitting upright again. He mirrors you, his dark brown eyes almost glowing as the moonlight hits them through the window just right.

"Fuck it, sure." He replies, and the two of you slink off the loveseat, doing everything you can to not wake anybody up. You gather your jackets and shoes as it's pretty chilly at night, before tiptoeing your way through the sliding door to the pool deck. The heated pool gives the backyard an eerie aqua tinge, but you're not put off by it. It's the perfect ambience for such a spooky night. The moon is full as can be, with no clouds to be found in the sky. You push two of the lounge chairs flush against one another, before laying down together.

The chairs squeak a little from the cold air tightening the metal hinges, but you can't be bothered to care. You pull your smokes out of your pocket, taking two from the pack. You light them both in your mouth, before handing one off to Eddie. "Here ya go, lovebird." You joke, quoting Steve from earlier.

"Thanks." He replies with a chuckle, hastily taking a long drag as soon as he has the cig in his possession. You don't say anything for a minute, letting the term float in the air. Lovebird. "What do you think about all that, anyway?" Eddie breaks the silence, blowing out a large cloud of smoke into the stillness of the night. He looks over at you, genuinely curious as to what you'll say.

"I dunno, it's a little annoying I guess." His face falls, but you continue. "You want honesty?" You ask, biting your lip.

"Always, princess." He says lowly, resting his head on his hand as he turns to face you fully. You've got his undivided attention now, and it scares the hell outta you way more than any stupid movie could.

"W-well...if I'm being honest..." Your eyes desperately want to break away from his, but something in his expression tells you to keep going. "I wouldn't say I'm totally opposed to the idea." You manage to choke the words out, practically holding your breath as you await his reaction.

"Hm." Is all he says, taking another drag. You inhale one of your own, dreading him potentially stomping on your heart. Eddie thinks on it for a moment, drawing it out just to tease you. His eyes flick to yours again, a mischievous glint flashing inside them. "You want honesty?" He asks with a sly smirk.

"Yes." That one word is all you can force from your lips. This is it, now or never. He'll either say he likes you back, or it'll all be over. He leans in real close, catching you off guard.

"I wouldn't say I'm totally opposed to the idea." He says, and for a second you think he's mocking you. That is, until he closes that unbearable gap between you and gently presses his lips onto yours. You hum into the kiss, bringing your free hand to tangle in his unruly curls. He bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp and let his tongue in your mouth. Moans transfer from your throat to his as he battles you for dominance. You both toss your cigarettes away, and Eddie's hands roughly pull you over to straddle his lap. He breaks away for a moment, looking up at you to see if you want to keep going. "Is this okay, Y/N?" He asks, suddenly unsure of himself. He knows for sure now that you've developed feelings for him, as he has for you. But Eddie doesn't know how fast or slow you want to take things.

"More than okay. Can I be honest again?" You say in a coy tone, batting your eyes at him flirtatiously.

"Lay it on me, darling." You've noticed he's dropping pet names like nobody's business, some he's called you before in friendly passing, and others he's never dared utter before. His hands rest at your hips respectfully, waiting for you to confess to him again.

"I've been dreaming about this for a very long time, Eddie. I like you, a lot. I might even be in love with you. But if you don't feel the same, I'm gonna stop this right now. I don't want it to be a one-time thing. I want to have you, and keep you. I want to be yours." You speak seriously, resisting the urge to grind yourself on his lap as you talk. You want to make it clear what your intentions are, and if he doesn't agree, then you can cut it short before it goes any further.

"Okay, my turn." Eddie smiles at you again, very amused at how forthcoming you are with your emotions. "I can't get you outta my head, angel. I think about you every second of every day. You've been so good to me, from hiding from the cops with me, to reading to my comatose ass in the hospital, to helping me graduate. You've been the one thing in my life that makes sense, and I wouldn't do anything to ruin that. I want exactly what you want, this is far from a one-night stand, Y/N." He squeezes your waist to emphasize his point, and you instinctively roll your hips against him.

You both groan at the simple motion, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Fuck." You breathe out, looking down at the amazing man beneath you. His pupils are blown out with lust, you shiver at the sight. You can feel his cock hardening under your clothed heat, and you begin to grind against him at a steady pace. Arousal gathers in your panties, you're slowly heating up despite the bite of the air outside. Eddie's hands migrate to your ass, massaging the flesh roughly. "Eddie." You moan out, lowering yourself to kiss his lips again. They're so warm and soft, like fleshy pillows.

He feverishly leads your hips to roll harder against him, pecking and tonguing your mouth with reckless abandon. Your hands travel beneath his shirt, running up his bare chest. He shivers at the touch of your cold hands, suddenly remembering all the ugly scars he's got under there. He stops moving, about to remove your hands from his body. He fucking hates these scars, they make him feel like a monster. "Stop." He says quietly, pulling you out of his shirt.

You're surprised at this, unsure what you've done to upset him. "What's wrong, baby?" You ask, worried you've hurt him or something. His eyes glisten with tears, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"I don't like them, Y/N. They're so ugly." Eddie's voice trembles as he tries to stop himself from crying. You realize what he's referring to, and it breaks your heart to see him so distressed about it.

"Eddie, it's okay. They're not ugly, I promise. They show that you're a survivor, that you beat all the bullshit you've had to face. Okay?" You hold both sides of his face, trying to get him to understand. You stroke the scar on his jaw, he winces and tries to wriggle away. "Just let me show you. Can I do that?" You speak gently, hoping he'll let you do what you're planning to. Eddie nods, sniffling as he wipes his eyes. He's shaking now, and it's definitely not from the cold. "You're beautiful." You say simply, lowering your head again to kiss the patch on his jaw.

Eddie melts into your touch, your act of love radiating over him. You lead him to sit up, and you slip off his jackets. You pull at his shirt, and he lifts his arms for you to remove it. Once it's tossed away, you gently press his chest to push him back down. You kiss the scar on his neck, drawing a moan from him. "Y/N."

"You're handsome." You pay him another compliment, scooting yourself down a bit to kiss the next scar. "You're sexy." You go to another on the side of his ribs. "You're amazing." You kiss another on his upper chest. "You're brave." You kiss a final one on his stomach, though there are more, especially on his arms and legs. But you're hoping you've made your point by now. "You're a hero." You bring yourself level with him again, lowering one last time to kiss his lips. But before you do, you make sure to look into his eyes as you tell him the truest statement of them all. "You're my hero."

Eddie's hips buck into you, making you whine into his mouth. His arms wrap firmly around your back, holding you as close to him as he possibly can. He finds you absolutely unbelievable, you've made him feel like a whole new man with such a simple act. You accept him as he is, bat-bites and all. His tremors have disappeared, all that remains is a deep passion burning within his chest. You break away to breathe, panting heavily against each other's faces. "God, I want you so bad. I wanna make you moan, and scream, and call my name." Eddie speaks fervently, his thoughts moving too fast for his lips to keep up. His eyes stare deeply up at yours, desperation tinging their chocolate brown hue.

"I know, baby. I want that too. Just relax, we've got all night." You sit up, slipping off your jacket. You would shiver if you weren't set ablaze by this whole situation. You can't believe it, Eddie's finally reciprocating your feelings after all this time. You've waited months for this moment, unsure it would ever come at all. You tug your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the ground. Eddie's eyes stare at your tits inside your bra, his large hands snaking up from your ass to feel the swells of your chest. He presses them together, watching how pretty they look in the pale pool lighting. You reach behind your back to undo the clasp, letting your bra fall loosely from your shoulders. He gasps as your nipples harden in the cold air, taken aback by your beauty. He's always wanted to see you like this, though he wasn't sure you'd ever let him.

"You're beautiful, Y/N." He grasps your tits again, and your head falls backwards as you moan at his touch. He's so gentle with you, caressing you like he's a sculptor and you're his masterpiece. He sits upright, holding your bare back with one hand while massaging your breast with the other. His mouth trails fiery kisses from your neck, to the valley between your tits, before swirling his tongue around your nipple.

"Fuck, Eddie." You wrap your arms over his shoulders, holding him close as he works you over. You continue rocking your hips against him, getting just barely enough friction as his erection rubs your moistening folds through your tight jeans. He takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, carefully biting down to make you whine for him. Eddie switches sides, giving your other breast an equal amount of attention. He wants to take his time, worship you like the goddess he thinks you are. "C'mere baby." You pant, pulling his head up to kiss him again. You love kissing him, he's very good at it. And the taste of tobacco and popcorn on his tongue is highly addictive. While your mouths move languidly against one another, you start fiddling with his belt to undo it. He lets you struggle for a moment, before moving your hands to take over. He opens it with ease, allowing you access again. You reach for him, unzipping his jeans. You slip your hand inside to feel his stiff cock under his boxers, causing him to groan against your lips.

You pump his length in your palm gently, going real slow to draw more noises from Eddie's mouth. You break away from the kiss, resting your forehead against his. Eddie takes this as his cue to reach down to the button of your pants, unzipping them with ease. He reaches in, feeling your slick folds with his fingers. You moan at his touch, breath hitching at how cold his hand is. "You're so wet, sweetheart." He speaks softly, trying to be careful with you. He rubs his fingers around your clit, and your free hand clutches his shoulder to stay upright. The two of you sit here like this, tenderly preparing each other for the one thing you've both wanted for so long.

Usually you prefer sex to be rough and fast and dirty, but with Eddie you want it to be slow and sensual. You love him, and you want to show him just how much. He appears to be on the same page, gently pushing his digits into your soaked pussy. Every touch is amplified by the deep feelings you share, revving you up at a contented pace. "I want you to make love to me, Eddie. Please?" You look deep into his eyes as you speak, breath fanning over his face. You almost feel silly for how desperate you potentially sound, but he doesn't acknowledge it if you do.

"Of course, angel. Can you lay down for me?" He replies, eager to give you anything you want. You move off of his lap, back into your own chair. You kick off your shoes, pulling your pants off too. You're on full display for him, and it distracts him for a moment as he takes off the rest of his own clothes. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." You blush at his compliment, tempted to cover yourself up. But his eyes tell you everything is okay, that you're safe with him. He sheds his final layers, and you take your turn to admire his naked form. He's the most handsome man you've ever seen, scars and all. You can still see remnants of his tattoos, and you love how perfectly his curly hair lays at his shoulders. "What?" He asks, thinking something's wrong as you stare at him.

"You're gorgeous, Eddie." He smiles at your words, hiding behind his hair as he blushes like mad. He may not fully believe it himself, but hearing you say how attractive he is makes his heart flutter. Your eyes travel down, landing on his dick. You don't mean to gawk, but you've always wanted to see it, to touch it, feel it inside you. You break your trance when he chuckles at you, he's never seen a girl be so hypnotized by him before. You lie all the way down in the lounger, shivering at the cold plastic. He positions himself over you, gingerly spreading your legs and propping up your knees.

He admires your cunt, looking at the arousal glistening on it in the moonlight. He peers down at you, caressing your face with his large hand. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this, princess." His expression changes for a moment, like he's realized something important. "Shit, I don't have a condom, baby." He says, annoyed with himself for being so unprepared. He doubts you'll want to sleep with him now. But you just smile up at him, stroking his arm.

"It's okay, Eddie. I'm on the pill." You say simply, and his frown quickly turns into a grin. He lowers his head to kiss your lips, thanking you for saving the day, so to speak. He grips his cock in his hand, teasingly rubbing the head against your clit. You both moan at the sensation, more turned on than ever. You're simmering inside, feeling a familiar knot slowly tangling itself in your belly.

He breaks away, looking down at you to ask one more question. "Are you ready, baby?" He stutters through his words, savoring the sensation of your warm juices lubing him up.

You place your arms on his shoulders, preparing yourself for him to enter you. "Yes, I'm ready." You nod at him, and you both look between your bodies to observe as he slowly pushes himself into you. "Oh, god." You moan as he fills you up, he's the perfect size for you. He hisses at how tightly your walls are hugging him, taking his time before bottoming out. He kisses you again, keeping himself occupied until you're ready for him to start thrusting. Once you're fully relaxed, you wrap your legs around his torso to signal him to move.

He slowly pulls out, before slipping back in. "You're so perfect, darling." He groans, repeating his actions. He loves the little noises he's drawing from you, watching your mouth fall open helplessly.

"Go faster, baby. I need you." You whine, digging your nails into his back. He does as you ask, increasing the pace to hit your g spot just right with every stroke. "Fuck, you feel so good." You confess to him, pleasure thrumming through you as he moves. His hands grip your hips firmly, trying his best not to bruise you.

"So do you, sweetheart." He replies, maintaining his current speed as he wants to enjoy every last second of this with you. He begins kissing your neck, worrying the flesh between his teeth to give you a hickey. He wants everyone to know you've chosen him, just as he's picked you. The combined sensation of him pumping inside you and his amazing mouth makes your head spin, pushing you closer and closer to release. His own orgasm is building up rather quickly as well, the pleasant sting of your nails scratching his skin is driving him mad. It's taking everything in him to not hammer into you mercilessly, though he'd happily do it if you asked him to. It's the ultimate exercise in self-control, holding back for the purpose of showing you just how much he loves you.

The knot winds tighter with every stroke of his cock against your sweet spot, an endless stream of whimpers and moans leaving your lips. "I'm getting close, Eds. Please, go faster, harder. Make me scream your name." You beg him, wanting to lose control underneath him so badly.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He says darkly, biting your earlobe between his teeth. He grabs your legs, bending them over your torso. He lets them hook at the knees over his shoulders, looking in your eyes with a different energy now. It's carnal, animalistic. "Is this alright?" He asks, waiting for you to give the go ahead.

"Yes, please just fuck me. I know you want to." You plead with him, wanting him to unleash himself onto you. Pure lust flashes across your face, signaling to him just how much you want this. Without another moment's hesitation, he pulls out almost all the way before ramming into you. "Fuck!" You cry out, moaning even louder as he hammers himself into your pussy. He grasps your thighs roughly, not holding back anymore so he can make you cum.

The sound of skin slapping and your vulgar noises fill the autumn air, hopefully not loud enough for someone to hear you from inside the house. Your hands grip the sides of the lounge chair to the point where your knuckles have turned white, the knot is threatening to snap any second now. Your walls flutter around Eddie's dick, he can feel you nearing the end. He's not far behind you, you've been so perfectly snug around him. "I'm right there with you, baby. Come on, scream for me. Let everyone know how much you love me." His words push you closer, and he seals your fate when he starts rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, God! EDDIE!" You scream so loud, you're sure someone will call the cops or something. Your legs shake violently, the knot bursting into splintering threads that shoot through your insides. Your cunt clamps down onto Eddie's dick, pulsating as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck, Y/N." He moans, though much quieter than you. You feel his load empty into you, so warm and sticky. His hips buck uncontrollably a few times, stringing your orgasm along a little longer. Eddie's eyes screw shut as his bliss rides through him, waiting for it to subside before stilling inside you. He collapses onto you, his skin sticking to yours as sweat blooms over your bodies. You're both breathing heavily, hearts pounding in the aftershocks.

You're getting a little uncomfortable with your legs still bent over yourself, you tap Eddie on the shoulder. "Hey, Eds? Can you maybe pull out and put my legs back?" You ask, not wanting to rush him.

"Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry." He chuckles, slowly slipping himself out of you. He helps you put your legs back down, noticing you wincing as your joints are a bit sore. He gathers your clothes, putting them next to you on your chair before dressing himself. You stand up, legs feeling like jelly. You walk over to the pool, dipping a hand into the heated water. "Whatcha doin' over there? It's a bit cold for a swim." You're not very steady on your feet, and he hopes you don't fall in.

"I'm just trying to wipe our cum off of me. It's not exactly comfortable to sleep in, ya know." You reply with a giggle, and he nods in understanding. He watches as you awkwardly position yourself to crouch at the end of the pool, carefully cleaning up the mess between your legs. He chuckles at the sight, you look like a crab in your position. You turn your head to scowl at him, though you know you probably look ridiculous.

"Sorry, love. You just look really cute like that." He says as he meets your gaze, zipping up his jeans. You finish cleaning yourself, going back over to your chair to cover up. It's fucking freezing now, especially with your sweat turning cold. Eddie sees you shiver, pulling his shirt over his head. He walks over to help you out, dressing you quickly so you can both go inside and warm up. You don't bother to put your jackets back on, holding them in your arms along with your shoes so you can sneak back into the house.

"Shit it's cold out there, I hope we don't get sick." You whisper to him, maneuvering carefully around everyone's sleeping bodies.

"I'm sure we'll live, we've been through much worse." He replies, squeezing your hand. You return your things to the area by the front door, tiptoeing over to the loveseat. You're still feeling very cold, but Eddie's quick to lie down and take you into his arms to cuddle. His flesh feels like ice, but you two quickly generate heat once you're flush against each other and he pulls the blanket over you.

You're nice and warm again in no time, and you feel safe in Eddie's embrace. You sigh blissfully, pushing yourself backwards into him to get even closer. You can't believe how amazing this night has been, you stretch your head down to kiss his hand. "I love you, Eddie. I'm so happy that I finally get to be yours." You speak softly, wanting him to hear you without waking anyone up.

"I love you too, Y/N. Tonight was perfect. I can't wait to show you how much you mean to me, every single day." He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in his grasp. You close your eyes, shuffling one last time to get as comfortable as possible. And before you can say another word, you're lost in a deep, dreamless slumber.

The next morning, you're abruptly woken up by someone yanking the blanket off of you. You think at first it may be Eddie messing with you, but he's still pressed against the back of the couch, arms wrapped around you just like last night. You groan, refusing to open your eyes. Instead, you roll over to lay your leg on top of Eddie's, snuggling your head against his chest. He senses your movements, adjusting to hold you better in this position. He kisses your forehead out of instinct, still half-asleep. "I knew it!" You hear Robin shout, and the others let out various sounds of feigned shock.

You grumble again, dreading the oncoming interrogation. Eddie chuckles lowly, nudging you with his head. "I think we've been found out, angel." He says, opening his eyes to look at you. You sense his gaze, doing the same. He smiles kindly, stroking your face. "Hey there, beautiful. Let's get this over with, hm? They're just our dumbass friends." His words comfort you, the annoyance melting away. You nod, and the two of you sit up together to face the onslaught.

"So, what did you crazy kids get up to last night?" Nancy asks, curious as ever. She's visibly happy for you two, she'd talked to you multiple times about how you should've been making moves on Eddie.

"I know exactly what they were doing." Steve calls, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walks down the stairs. "I could hear the whole thing, my bedroom window has quite the view of the pool deck. That, and the glass is ridiculously thin. I won't give away all the details. I'd much rather bleach my eyeballs than relive that. But I will say, Y/N is quite a screamer." He joins the group as he finishes talking, your late-night activities had disturbed his sleep. It’s only fair he calls you out on it.

"Oh my god, Steve!" You screech at him, covering your reddening face in embarrassment. Everyone except the man sitting at your side laughs at you, furthering your humiliation. Eddie rubs your shoulder with his hand, whispering in your ear that it's okay and they're just giving you shit.

"You're cleaning those lounge chairs, by the way." Steve continues, scrunching his nose at the thought of what you two used them for.

"Oh, please. You don't even clean those, Harrington. And we all know damn well that you have used them way more than anyone else." Jonathan retorts, feeling a little bad that everyone has ganged up on you and Eddie.

"I fail to see what the problem is here, my dudes. All I see is two radical people in love, and that's beautiful, man!" Argyle chimes in, trying to go to bat for your honor. Him and Eddie have bonded over their shared love for weed, and they've also shown each other the ways of their particular musical tastes.

"Thank you, Gyle." Eddie says, using the sweet nickname he came up with for his favorite stoner.

"No worries, my man." Argyle replies with a laugh, coming over to give him a high five. "And I gotta say, you couldn't have picked a more bodacious babe to love, buddy. You talked her up at every occasion possible, I figured it was only a matter of time." He laughs again, walking out back to enjoy his daily wake 'n bake.

"Okay, okay. In all seriousness, though? We're all so fucking happy for you guys! We've been waiting for you to finally admit your feelings, it was getting a little painful to watch. But, congratulations to you on your relationship. We love you guys, much as we like to fuck around." Robin says, her little speech brightening the overall mood of the room. Everyone murmurs and nods in agreement, smiling bigger than you've ever seen. Your heart swells, it's just insane to have this much love and adoration pouring out at once. You look to Eddie again, his face dangerously close to yours. "Well, go on and kiss already!" Robin shouts, managing to get everyone to chant.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" They say in unison, eager to see you seal the deal on your new love.

"Well, let's give 'em what they want, Eds." You say, leaning in to press your lips onto his. Everyone cheers, whooping and hollering at an obscene volume. You break apart a moment later, taking hold of each other's hands as the noise dies down. Thankfully, everyone moves on to other various activities, leaving you and Eddie alone in the living room as most of the others have gone to rustle up some food in the kitchen.

"Good morning, darling. I didn't have a chance to say that earlier." He smirks, kissing your cheek.

"Good morning. That was certainly a unique way to wake up, but I guess we've got it over with now. I was a little worried that last night was just a dream, to be honest." You giggle, reciprocating his affection by kissing his nose. You exchange a couple more kisses, quickly heating up inside again. Without realizing it, you're straddling Eddie's lap just like last night. You're not sure how you got here, but you can't stop kissing him. His tongue battles with yours, quickly winning dominance. You lightly grind against him, not wanting to go too far right now as there's so many others in the house. "I think Halloween has become my favorite holiday." You say, panting as your lips migrate to his neck to give him a hickey of his own.

"Me too, love. Me too." He replies, hands squeezing your ass as you bite his neck.

"Jesus christ! My eyes! I really do not need a repeat performance of last night, guys!" Steve yells, startling you out of your lustful lapse in judgment.

"Sorry, Harrington." You and Eddie say at the same time, bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

The end.

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #eddie munson #stranger things #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #halloween #spooky

238 notes · View notes

spookysteddie · 11 months ago

Text

Text Me The Details

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: gossip magazines, reader being horny on a live stream, cocky!Eddie, drinking, drugs mention

a/n: I kinda want this to be a series? So expect a part two at some point. But yeah this isn't an original idea so, credit to literally everyone who's done this before me. I gave reader a last name because if I have to write y/l/n one more time I'll sob. ANYWAY I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you like this!

WC: 1.2k

...

You are never drinking again. Ever.

Your management would agree after what happened last night. You didn’t mean to spill the secret you’d been keeping. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, however, you had an image to keep up. The party girl, the kind one, the one with lots of friends, the girl who had good grades in college, the one who always donated most of her fortune to various organizations.

Now, every tabloid was writing articles about your celebrity crush.

Party girl and influencer drunkenly admits she’d love to sleep with lead singer of Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson. Sources have said they’ve been together for a while but decided to keep it under wraps.

The dating portion of that article wasn’t true and you silently vow to figure out who the fuck these ‘sources’ were. However, you admitting to wanting to fuck Eddie… did happen. You have no one to blame but yourself.

Now, there are three reasons why you’re so stressed about this. First, even though you party all the time, you were good. You know, like only went out on the weekends, did every single assignment, tutored people on the side, was probably the most unproblematic influencer out there. Second, the last thing you wanted was Eddie Munsons attention. You had this thing where you didn’t want the people you were fans of to perceive you.

Theoretically you knew they did, most of them followed you on social media. But there was a difference between being a fan of someone, and them semi-knowing you vs your actual crush who you own a poster or two of? That makes you want to throw up and pass out at the same time.

But, finally, the third reason this stressed you out was because Eddie and his crew were not good. You know like, partied every single day, smoked a lot of weed and snorted coke off of his groupies and fans. It was all over the tabloids and the band has even posted about it a time or two. You didn’t do that. And if the tabloids caught you doing that, you’d lose everything you worked towards.

“So this is how we’re going to fix it,” Case, your manager, says from where she’s standing next to the fireplace in your apartment. “You’re gonna go back on live and say it was an accident.”

You look up from the article you were reading, eyes finding his. “That is the worst idea ever. I was tipsy not black out drunk. No one will ever believe that was an accident.” You huff, locking your phone, “and I have tickets to their show next week.”

You loved your team, but sometimes they made the most insane comments on how to fix the unfixable.

You stand, pacing the room, “he isn’t one to read gossip magazines. And-and I’m not on the same level as his band. They’re A listers and I’m C list at best.”

Your manager and publicist look like fish after what you said. Anna, your publicist speaks first, “I swear to god if you ever say that again I am uppin your therapy appointments. You hear me?”

You huff, sitting back down on the couch, “I’m not kidding though. I’m not giving up this ticket. It’s one of the few things I’m looking forward to.”

Case answers after rubbing her temples, “you better pray this blows over without him seeing it. You may party but his partying is a whole other level.”

…

The call came two days later, an unknown number popping up on your phone.

You knew, you knew before you even accepted the call who’d be on the other end of the line.

It felt like it started in slow motion, first came the gossip mags with the original story. Then came Eddie following you on instagram. He’d like a few photos and stories you put up. Then came his interview. The interview where he said, “of course I know who she is. I’m flattered really. I hear she’s a sweet girl.”

Now, your phone is buzzing in your hand and you can’t bring yourself to answer the phone.

“Yes just a fucking person. Just like you’re a person. Answer the phone.” You look down at the phone and are thankful it’s just you in your house. You tap the answer button, a fake smile on your face, as you put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you use your best interview voice, the one Anna has drilled into you.

You can hear him breathe in before letting it out, long and slow, it’s clear he took a drag of his cigarette. Is he nervous too? There’s no way. Eddie always seemed to be this cool and calm guy, never afraid of anything or anyone. He gets into more fights in a week than you have in your entire 25 years of existence.

“Good afternoon, Miss Asher.” You can hear the grin in his voice and it sends a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s Eddie.”

He didn’t have to introduce himself to you, you’d be able to pick out his voice in a crowded room. But only because you’ve listened to his music so often… only reason.

“Oh! Hi! I’m s-surprised to hear from you.” You cringe at the stutter that came out of you. You had more than enough practice dealing with any situation thrown at you. From the funny to the uncomfortable to the scary. You were trained for this and you were fucking it up. “How can I help you?”

“The band and I will be in town next friday, we’re playing a show.” You know where this is going and it makes your heart beat faster, so fast you’re scared it’ll burst. “I was wonderin’ if you were goin’?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

“I am, actually. Me and a few of my friends actually.” You rub your hands down your sweatpants, nerves making them sweat.

“Oh! Well that is fantastic,” his tone is chipper as hell and you know he’s high. On what, you have no idea. “I was thinkin’ that maybe ya friends and you’d wanna join us backstage. VIP area for the show? What cha think?”

All of sudden you forget how the english language works, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long. Well, in your dreams of course. But looking at it from a business perspective, it could bring his fans to your page and your fans to his page. It was kind of a win win. Well, win win lose because then Corroded coffin knows who the actual fuck you are and you arent just some fan. And that, terrified you,

“Heeeeeeello? Are you there?”

His voice breaks through your clogged mind, forcing you to respond.

“Hi, sorry. I’m here! I um I got distracted. But, yeah that sounds great, actually. We-we’d love that.”

“Good! I will have my people call your people, yeah?”

“O-or you can just send me the information,” you say it before thinking and now you really want to punch yourself.

He chuckles to himself, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll text you the information. See you next friday.”

He hangs up before you can say another fucking stupid thing. You press the phone into your hands, foot bouncing on the floor with nerves. You can think of seven different ways that conversation could’ve (and should’ve) happened. One of which was with your entire team, another being with your friends, another being with your parents. Not alone to make a fool out of yourself. Your management team was really going to kill you.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader #Rockstar!Eddie x influencer!reader

795 notes · View notes

mrsjellymunson · 5 months ago

Text

The Biology Tutor

Independent Study 01: Art

Series masterlist

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Eddie reflects on your most recent study session.

WC: ~1.68k

C/W: 18+, SMUT, MDNI!! I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll just say that Eddie has some alone time… (If you’ve read the rest of this series you’ll likely not be surprised by any of the content, but if anyone feels strongly that this part needs any specific cautions LMK 💙) No physical descriptions of reader, but she is described as wearing makeup (though this isn’t integral to the story and it’s only one line)

A/N: I know I promised you Lesson 3 was coming soon, but I couldn’t help thinking about how Eddie and reader might feel after their recent tryst in the library, so this extra was born (and you can shout at me about it in the comments if you wish, I would love it ISTG 😂).

As if it wasn’t bad enough already, he muses. Eddie’s been increasingly distracted, and even his Hellfire campaigns are starting to suffer. But ever since that kiss (oh fuck, that kiss) in the library, Eddie absolutely can’t stop thinking about you.

The situation only gets worse when he’s alone, and is compounded further anytime he’s naked.

He’s already jerked off to the thought of you so many times, and he’s certain you knew exactly what you were doing when you brought those (silky, stained) sleep shorts to school for him. (He’s ashamed to admit that he’d spent that morning break under the bleachers with them pressed up against his face, breathing so deeply he almost hyperventilated, and since he got them home they haven’t left his bed.) But he still feels like it’s somehow wrong for him to think about you like this, and he’s sure you’ll see it written all over his face…

This isn’t the first time he’s thought about you whilst he’s in the shower, either. In fact, that started even before you became his tutor - it just took you wearing a particularly short skirt to biology class and it rapidly became a favourite pastime of his.

But today, thanks to your unexpectedly steamy study session in the library, his his cock is already fully hard, standing proudly in front of him within moments of him stepping into the tub, and his mental imagery is especially vivid.

He manages a quick wash before the throbbing between his legs demands his full attention, and his thoughts inevitably turn back to you.

Taking his cock lightly in his hand, he imagines kissing you gently, slowly. He remembers how your lips and mouth felt against his, and how your hands crept up his back over his shirt just hours ago. He recalls every movement, every sensation, as if to burn it permanently into his memory. The feel of your lips, how you smelled, how -oh god- how you tasted. He thinks about how gentle and soft your tongue was, and how he can’t get the sensation of it sliding against his out of his mind. It’s jostling for space next to the thoughts of how much he wants to use his own to explore every inch of you, if you’d ever let him.

Then, in his mind, you’re going over more test questions with him, just like you were in the study room. Except now each time he gets a question right, you praise him, stroke his face… and remove an item of clothing.

Eventually your clothing is all gone and you’re kneeling in front of him here in the shower, the warm water cascading over you in sparkling rivulets. Your naked body seems to glow, and your skin has an otherworldly, fantastical iridescence. Your pretty makeup smears and runs, creating delicate streaks of colour down your cheeks. And you’re wearing a shining tiara made of precious metals and sparkling stones.

His Princess.

Your knees are spread, leaving yourself open, and he imagines how you’d feel on his fingers. Soft, warm, wet, waiting.

He suppresses a moan, lest any of his neighbours are passing by. The flimsy walls of these trailers are hardly soundproof.

He curses as he imagines your hands running over his taut quads, your lips kissing them, then your soft, warm tongue tickling up his inner thighs towards his cock.

Eddie strokes his fingers delicately over his sack, imagining it’s you licking him, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes as you promise,

“Let me show you what a clever boy you are, Eddie. How much of a reward you deserve for working that beautiful brain so hard.”

And then you’re running your tongue up the full length of his cock, all the way from base to tip, but this time you’re not using biological terms, not trying to educate him. This time, you’re just filling yourself with him, suckling on his swollen head and sliding your wet mouth down onto him, further, further, until the tip of him is nudging your throat.

He thinks back to the last time you were on his sofa, your last ‘lesson’, how good you looked and felt when you took his cock in your mouth and looked at him as he grasped your hand. How your tongue swirled so devilishly before you nodded so sweetly and let him cum down your throat. How you licked his release from your lips…

He feels his balls tighten and a familiar sensation stirs in his abdomen, but he doesn't want this to be over yet, so he grips and squeezes that part of his dick that he knows will stave off his orgasm, opening his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, focussing on the swirl of the soapy water as it spirals down the drain.

Breathing deep, Eddie allows himself to slowly and elaborately create a new fantasy, this time imagining he’s pressing you up against the tiled wall.

He wonders what your wet skin might feel like against his, and how your tits might feel against his chest, beneath his hands, in his mouth.

He pictures what it’d be like to nudge your feet apart, just a little, and slot his hips between those luscious thighs.

How it’d feel to push through your glorious folds with the tip of his cock, and slide slowly into your warmth and wetness. The thought makes his breath leave his body in a rush, and he has to stifle another moan.

He wonders how pliant you’d be, whether you’d tell him how talented he is, how much you love it when he does this, how good you’re gonna be for him.

He wonders whether he'd be sweet, telling you you’re so beautiful, how he'll always take care of you, and treat you like the princess you are.

Or whether you’d be filthy, spilling profanities as you urge him to fill you deeper, take you faster, go harder.

And whether he’d ever have the balls to talk dirty to you, and tell you how well you take him, how your cunt is so perfect for him, how much he wants you, and adores fucking you.

Dick slick with foaming shower gel, Eddie’s swollen member slides almost effortlessly into his fist. He braces himself on his free forearm, palm flat against the tiles, imagining your body is between him and the cool ceramic, moving you both with each thrust of his hips.

He imagines his warm chest pressed to yours, and how the water feels trickling over and between your writhing forms as it flows over his shoulders, across your tits, over his balls and down between your thighs.

He groans into the steamed up space as he bucks up into his fist, imagining it’s your wet and willing pussy. Would you cum like this? It’s his fantasy, so of course you would… He wonders how it would feel. Would it be like he’s read about, where you’d be tight around him, squeezing his length as you rode out your high?

He can almost hear your moans as the head of his cock hits that special spot inside you that - just as you promised the first time you came over - you taught him to find. His ego lets him imagine he’d be skilled, maybe the best you’d had, and he imagines how your voice would eventually crack as you'd breathily tell him, just as you did in the library,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

All of it combined is enough to tip him over. His hips stutter and his abdomen tenses as he cums with a broken groan, his vision becoming spotty as his wet spend spurts high up the tiles, some of it almost reaching eye level, sticking to the wall in sweeping, dripping splashes and the rest running down over his hand and wrist.

He squeezes himself, milking his cock of every last drop, whispering your name as he leans his forehead against his forearm and rests there, catching his breath. He’s not sure if he’s ever cum that hard by himself, and he certainly never has in the shower.

Vision clearing, he appraises the evidence of his lust. Human art on ceramic canvas.

However, for once it’s not an artistic display of his that he wants anyone else to see. He makes a mental note to clean off the tiles higher up than he normally would, and begins to rinse off under the cooling stream.

Shit. Wayne’s gonna be pissed when he comes home to find he’s used up all the hot water, and he doesn’t even have an excuse.

As he sluices the mess he’s made down the drain and his post-orgasm fog starts to lift, Eddie starts to feel like the deviant perv he’s sure he must be. He also realises how increasingly difficult it’s getting for him to suppress the various feelings he has for you. How the hell is he supposed to face you after this?

Is this that thing he’s heard about? Post Nut Clarity, or something?

Coming down from his high, he wonders what you’re doing right now. Probably hanging with friends, or diligently doing your homework. Something innocent and worthy. Wholesome.

By stark contrast, as he considers the somewhat-uncomfortable, almost-permanent semi he sports when you’re anywhere near him. Or, when he knows you’re in school generally. Or, fuck, simply just whenever he thinks about you. Suddenly he’s grateful for the cooling water, as his dick threatens to get hard again just from the mere thought of seeing you in class, or passing you in a corridor.

But then there’s also… the other feelings. The ones he’s never experienced before. The ones that tell him there’s so much more to this than just ‘having fun whilst tutoring’. At least, there is from his perspective.

Because what if this is just a temporary arrangement, and once he passes biology class you’ll have had your fun and will move on. Maybe even with somebody else?

Or, what if you feel the same?

And honestly? He’s not certain which prospect terrifies him the most…

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked this little extra ❤️

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Next part: Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

If you’d like to join the taglist for this series or my general one, just drop me a comment, ask or message letting me know, I’d love to have you on board 💗

Taglist (open): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons and because you said you like fantasies @mediocredreams 😉

#Eddie munson imagines #<- literally #perv!eddie munson #the biology tutor #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #Eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie munson fantasises about you #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson series

317 notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 11 months ago

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

----

At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

495 notes · View notes

hellfirenacht · 1 year ago

Text

Dress Code

Summary: It's too damn hot to be wearing your Hellfire Club shirt, unfortunately the rest of the club disagrees. One Shot. Reader x Eddie if you squint

Tags: @ali-r3n @crocworkships @maxstecc

Summer in Hawkins wasn’t usually terribly hot, at least it wasn’t as bad as it could be when inside. You had hoped that school would have given you some relief from the heat, but to your dismay (and to the dismay of many other students at the school, there were certain classrooms that were now without a/c, and of course your classes coincided with a fair bit of them. Great.

It was Friday, and on Fridays you were required to be in uniform. That was hardly ever a problem, Eddie wasn’t terribly picky. As long as you were wearing the Hellfire Club shirt he was happy, or at least wouldn’t say anything. But today the cotton fabric irritated your skin, and only served to add more insulation to your already uncomfortably hot body with its longer sleeves.

By the time lunch rolled around, you had given up the shirt, stuffing it in your bag and changing into a lighter weight t-shirt you kept in your locker for emergency situations.You grabbed your lunch and made your way over to the usual table where your club would sit, taking a seat across from Gareth who’s eyes flicked to your shirt and then to your face. There was a smirk on his smug little mouth that made you roll your eyes.

“Not a word, Emmerson.” you grumbled, picking at your food. Maybe if you stayed at the end of the table away from Eddie, he wouldn’t notice your betrayal of the club. Not that you were afraid of Eddie, but he could admittedly make you, perhaps, just a little nervous at times. And that totally did not have anything to do with the attraction you felt for him. Totally not.

“I give it three minutes before he notices.” Gareth replied as Zack and Jeff made it to the table. Zack sat next to you, while Jeff took his usual seat next to Gareth. It wouldn’t be long before Eddie showed up now, taking his place at the end of the table.

“You’re out of uniform.” Jeff said, looking over at you. “And you look like shit.”

“Shut up, Jeff.”

You wished you had a jacket or something to throw on, but that would also defeat the point of now wearing your Hellfire shirt. It was too damn hot and you have no idea how the others were able to wear theirs without burning up. You’d felt like shit all day, and even looking at your lunch was making you lose your appetite.

A thump at the end of the table made you jump as Eddie dropped his lunchbox. You leaned back a little bit to gauge his mood. There was a frown on his face and his brows were furrowed as he opened his lunch. Shit. He looked pissed today, and Gareth had a shit eating grin as he glanced at you.

“Don’t” you mouthed to him and shook your head. He simply shrugged, already knowing that you were gonna be caught. This was such bullshit, you were getting all worked up and worried about getting in trouble for a club that the school liked to pretend didn’t even exist!

You felt for the guy, most of his classes were a moot point, and he really only needed to pass three more to graduate in May, and Ms. O’Donnell’s science class was known for being one of the hardest teachers in school. Eddie swore up and down that Principal Higgins put him in her class on purpose to flunk him and make him drop out. You suspected that he was right.

“You okay, Eddie?” Jeff asked while you angled your body behind Zack so that it was less noticeable what you were wearing.

“Ms. O’Donnell has it out for me, I swear.” Eddie grumbled. “I swear, she’s a drill sergeant with all these damn pop quizzes she keeps springing on us.”

“You should get a tutor.” Zack suggested as Dustin and Mike showed up and dropped their trays on the other side of you. You met Mike’s gaze and his eyes went wide and he immediately looked away. Jesus, these freshmen were so dramatic. No one looked up to Eddie more than Mike and Dustin, the kids loved him. It was cute. Sometimes.

Dustin had the good sense to just give you a normal greeting, knowing better than to point out what was already known to everyone in Hellfire except for Eddie. Actually, the tension for this was starting to build up as Eddie ranted about how he’s tried tutors but no one would give him the time of day anyway.

If you were better at science, you’d offer but you already know that you and Eddie would be at each other's throats trying to figure out whatever O’Donnell was teaching. You already butt heads enough during Hellfire.

You kept quiet as Eddie ranted for a few more minutes. You pulled a book out of your bag, pretending to read as your lunch went untouched. There was the beginning of a headache starting to make itself known, and you were heavily considering skipping gym next period. Normally you’d ask if you could crash in Eddie’s van for an hour in cases like this but you had a feeling that you’d have to either go to the nurse's office or find another place to hide this time.

If this was a better day, you might have been able to keep your head down and avoid Eddie’s attention, ironically being the opposite of what you would have considered to be a good day. But it was not a good day, because it was a million degrees out, the a/c was busted in all your classes, you felt tired and gross, and Gareth just loved to stir the pot.

“Hey Zack, can you throw this away for me?” he asked, handing over his empty soda can to the man beside you. If looks could kill, he’d be a pile of ash and dust as Zack got up to toss the garbage into the nearest trash can.

You wished that you could shrink and disappear into the chair, but no such luck. It was at this time that Eddie finally noticed you, and you watched as his neutral expression of greeting shifted to one of annoyance. Usually, you found his expressiveness funny and endearing, but not this time. The energy of the table immediately shifted as all eyes were on you and Eddie.

Shit.

“Where’s your shirt?” Eddie asked, his large brown eyes boring into you. He was already in a pissy mood, and normally you’d stop yourself from pushing his buttons, but the pounding in your head was growing more insistent.

“In my bag.” you replied in the same short tone as him. The rest of the club didn’t move, except for Zack who went back to his seat, looking around and wondering what happened.

“You’re supposed to be wearing it. It’s Friday.” Eddie leaned over to look at you and Zack leaned back, not wanting to be the wall between you two.

“I’ll wear it at Hellfire, Eddie. It’s fine.” you sighed, not wanting to fight about this right now.

“Everyone else is wearing theirs, why aren’t you?” He wasn’t going to let this go. He flunked a pop quiz and had to feel some form of control. It was written all over him.

“Because, Edward, it is a million degrees out and I feel like I’m melting.” Your eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, but the rest of us still managed to wear ours!” Eddie looked super annoyed now, the frown lines on his face accentuated by the comically deep frown he was wearing. He hated being called anything other than ‘Eddie’, ‘Eds’, or ‘oh great and powerful DM’. You liked to use the last one when you were about to do something stupid in the campaign.

“Eddie’s right, you know. We’re all wearing our shirts.” Gareth smirked and you almost threw your uneaten sandwich at him.

“Well, you see, I was worried that if I wore mine all day I’d end up at club smelling like you and I didn’t want to suffocate everyone while playing.” you snapped. From beside you, Dustin snorted and Eddie gave you a warning look.

“You know the rules, you agreed to them when you joined us.” Eddie reminded you.

“Edwin it’s 90 degrees outside and most of my classes don’t have a/c!” you looked at him, feeling more exhausted by the minute. “If I put my shirt on, I’ll die of heat stroke before 7th period.”

He might have caved, he really might have if you hadn’t called him that. Eddie wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but as the leader of Hellfire he had to maintain some sort of order to keep his “little sheepies” safe. One of the perks of Hellfire was the protection that came with it. It didn’t stop all the bullies, but at least most of them would avoid messing with you all too much because they were convinced Eddie might snap one day.

But you called him Edwin, and were challenging him, and you were fighting with Gareth again, and he already flunked another pop quiz.

The two of you locked eyes, holding each other's gaze intently. The pounding in your head only grew worse, but you didn’t feel like backing down. This was so stupid, it was just a shirt! Yeah, this club was important to you, it was important to everyone here. So why did you have to-

“Can you just put your shirt on?” Mike finally said, and you and Eddie looked at the freshman, and he rubbed his face. “The a/c’s working in here, you’ll be fine.”

You honestly started to feel like you could cry from the stress of being ganged up on like this.

“Yeah, but I’m so hot she might still get pit stains” Gareth jabbed with a smirk and you made a disgusted face.

“Fine.” you finally grumbled and pulled the crumpled shirt out of your bag. You gave it a shake and threw it over your head like a scarf, not pulling it on all the way and leaving your arms out. “Happy?” you shot at Eddie.

He wasn’t, you didn’t think anyone was happy with this honestly. But you were still burning up, everyone was staring at you like you were a kid throwing a tantrum, and as much as you loved Eddie, you were pissed that he didn’t even hear you out.

But he was done arguing and leaned back in his chair. At least now he’d leave you alone about the stupid shirt. You leaned back in your chair as well, grabbing your book and tried to read for the rest of lunch. You couldn’t focus though, finding yourself reading the same lines over and over again while your head ached. If today had been different you’d be able to ask Eddie if he had anything that would help, but no such luck.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Jeff asked, pointing to your lunch. When you shook your head and pushed your lunch box towards the center of the table, everyone reached out to lay claim to your forgotten lunch.

You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you, and you angled your body away from him. By now, you were starting to heavily consider finding a sub for the game and going home to just sleep. You found yourself with your forehead resting against the cool wood of the table until the end of lunch when the bell rang, and you decided to just head towards the nurse. You only bothered saying bye to Dustin and Zack, who had been the only ones to mind their own business.

You missed how Eddie’s expression had softened when you left the cafeteria.

It took the nurse all of three minutes to declare that you were running a high fever and that this wasn’t just a headache caused by the lack of a/c. Well, that explained a lot. Being old enough, the nurse said that you were free to go home and get some rest. Looks like you’d be missing Hellfire after all, and you wouldn’t even be able to tell them why you couldn’t show up. Maybe that would piss Eddie off so much he’d go full sadistic DM.

Maybe he’d even kill off Gareth the Great.

No, you’d never actually be that lucky.

You slumped your way back to your locker, haphazardly grabbing books that you think you might have homework for and shoving them in your bag. The weight of your backpack only added to the exhaustion and fatigue that was quickly gaining up on you. You always got sick like this; perfectly fine until you weren’t.

As you made your way to the parking lot to your car, the heat of the day was at its peak, beating down on you. You groaned and made your way to the car, throwing your bag in the back seat.

“Running away?” Came a voice from behind you, and you didn’t even fully register it until there was a shadow behind you. You slowly turned around to see Eddie looking down at you with his head tilted.

“Eddie?” your voice was quiet and exhausted. You’d already used the last of your energy of the day fighting with him and you didn’t have it in you for another round.

“Jesus, what happened to you?” he reached out and pressed a hand to your forehead. You couldn’t help but lean forward at the touch, somehow his hands felt like ice in this heat and it felt good.

“Overheated ‘cause I had to wear a dumb shirt.” you grumbled, and his hand dropped. You looked up at him, and he looked as though he’d been slapped, Guilt washed over his features and it was a little bit satisfying. “Kidding. Nurse said I have the plague and to go home before I infect the school. Says she’s never seen anything like it, and it’s probably a new virus that’ll probably kill me by the end of the weekend.”

Eddie always looked cute when his head tilted in exasperation. “Are you good to get home?” he asked.

You gave a shrug. “Not like I have a choice. Also, why are you out here? You should be in class, Edmond.”

He ignored the name, knowing that this wasn’t a hill to die on today. “I’m skipping.” he said simply. “It’s just class presentations, and I wasn’t in the mood. I won’t be missed.”

“I’d miss you.”

Oh, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud with your actual mouth. That was supposed to be an inside thought. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, neither of you sure what to say.

Eddie’s laugh broke the silence, “You’d be the first to care if I was at class or not.” he said.

“Yeah well, at least when you’re around I have someone to talk to.” You relaxed a bit, rubbing your face.

There was another moment of silence and Eddie reached out towards you. You stared blankly, wondering what the hell he was doing before he pulled the Hellfire shirt off your shoulders.

“I was a douche.” Eddie finally said, looking at you. “I was pissed and I took it out on you. I should have dropped it. I’m sorry.”

You hadn’t expected an apology from him. At least, you hadn’t expected one so soon.

“The a/c’s out in the B wing.” you said as Eddie handed you back your shirt.

“Yeah, I could smell it all the way from the library.” he gave you a half smile. He was fidgeting, moving from one foot to the other. He never could stay still, even if his life depended on it.

“Smelled like Gareth in second period.” you laughed.

Eddie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and grabbed the back of your head, rocking it back and forth for a moment before dropping at your shoulder again.

“Let’s get you home.” he said. “I’m not letting you drive like this. You’re gonna get yourself killed if you pass out behind the wheel.”

“I think my driving is still marginally safer than yours.” you laughed, leaning against him. “Seriously, how did you even get a license?”

“Trade secret.” He led you to his van and you hopped in the passenger side and buckled up. You left your books in your own car but at this point you didn’t give a shit.

“You’ll need to take me to school on Monday if I’m leaving my car.” you slumped into the seat. “Assuming I don’t die to death.”

“You can still talk, so you still have hit points. You’ll live.”

In a nicer fantasy, this would be a pleasant and relaxing drive home. Eddie would effortlessly get you home safe, while you dozed in the passenger seat, and he'd and carry you inside and lay you in bed. But this was not your day dreams, and Eddie will always be Eddie. He drove like a maniac down the street to avoid any teacher or truant officers from telling you to not leave school grounds, even though you two were legally adults. You were jostled around as he took sharp turns and your headache returned with full force at the loud music he was playing. You normally didn’t mind his heavy mental mixes but Jesus, he was not reading the room right now. By the time he pulled up to your place, you assumed it was a miracle that you were still alive.

“You ran that last stop sign.” you said.

“It’s only illegal if you get caught.” he smiled wide at you.

“Okay, well I’m going to contemplate my own mortality.” you snorted, opening the door, but his hand gently grasped onto your arm.

“Are we good?” he asked, and you slowly nodded. “Yeah. I- we’re good. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“Good. Good.” Eddie nodded. “Well, feel better okay? I need to go not-be-missed in seventh period.”

You turned and leaned over, hugging him close. “Give my germs to Mike and Gareth.” you whisper just as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Jesus Christ. If you get everyone sick I’m taking away every magic item you have.” Eddie groaned and you responded by kissing his face, feeling the faint prickly stubble on his jaw. “Hey!”

You turned back and opened the door again, flipping him off as you walked towards your door. You turned to look at him before you stepped inside, seeing him laugh and shake his head. He flipped you off too before tearing off back down the street to get back to school.

A week later, you would arrive in the cafeteria again where the boys all had their shirts lazily thrown over their heads, only resting on their shoulders.

Part 2

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #dress code

809 notes · View notes