#jeff little-legs

[printzeizarra]

It was not, in fact, gnomeral.

Ford didn't quite believe Jeff and Cherry, but he didn't have any proof of the contrary.

[tokensonsaturn]

VIOLENTLY RIPPING MY HAIR OUT OF MY SCALP

[queenie-ofthe-void]

No one's really surprised to see famous rockstar Eddie Munson show up to the 2024 Paris Olympics. His close friendship with three-time medalist gymnast Chrissy Cunningham had the press working over time when the pair were first spotted six years ago leaving a fundraising event.

However, no one can seem to figure out why- in Chrissy's down time- the metal head is frequently spotted at the men's swimming events. Everyone knows Munson's queer, but he's not the type to show up just to oggle some poor, unsuspecting athletes (he is, but the press don't need to know he's a bit of a freak).

Prime time news coverage chock it up to Eddie supporting the best of the USA's Olympians, including Steve Harrington, who just broke the world record for men's fastest 100m freestyle. They'd pointed out it wasn't odd he was there, since he also made appearances at other events with up and coming stars, such as Lucas Sinclair for men's basketball and Nancy Wheeler for women's skeet shooting. When asked about it, he'd laughed it off, saying swimming was Chrissy's favorite sport to watch and he promised he'd fill her in on what she missed.

That didn't stop fans online from obsessing over small details, including Eddie's repeat appearances at the swimming events, where he only showed once for anything else that wasn't Chrissy's competitions. There was no way he could keep Chrissy filled in on what she missed when he only showed up to meets Harrington competed in, not all men's swimming events.

Fan edits of Eddie Munson clapping a little too hard, screaming a little too loud, and overall just a little bit more excited for Harrington's podium than Chrissy's gold medal spread across the internet like wildfire. One blurry shot caught Harrington briefly look in his direction when he won his silver, but it was hard to be certain.

Tucked into bed after another long day of interviews, Eddie pulls up a few of the best fan edits Jeff and Gareth sent him earlier. It's become a bit of a habit over the past few weeks to watch his favorite ones before he goes to sleep. He feels the bed dip next to him, a warm hand slide over his chest and a leg push between his own.

"Aww babe," Steve coos, "did we get new ones today?"

Eddie leans down, dropping little kisses on his husband's forehead. "Apparently Jeff says these ones are even more convincing than last week's."

Steve hums a content little sigh before nuzzling into the crook of Eddie's neck. They've been riskier about public appearances this time around compared to Tokyo, but they've agreed to publicly come out after this year's games are over. So, why not have a little fun with it?

They release a fan edit of their own later that year posted on the official Corroded Coffin profile. It's a reaction video of them watching all of their favorite tiktoks and fanart and Tumblr posts. They laugh, point out inaccuracies, answer fan questions, and post a few pictures of their own, including the two of them standing under an arch of flowers exchanging rings.

[rainrot4me]

Do You Think About Her?

Summary: Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.

Characters: Jeff the Killer & Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Teasing, Toby is inexperienced, Jeff’s an asshole, fingering, cunnilingus, embarrassment, dub-con, blowjob, fucking in/on a truck, voyeurism, double penetration, vaginal, slight power struggle

Words: 5.0k

Jeff was known to make Toby the brunt of his jokes.

Whenever the twitching boy would stutter too much or laugh a little too hard, Jeff was always quick to jump on his ass and say something. Whether Toby took the remarks seriously or not, the pale killer never let up.

So whenever Toby accidentally let it slip that the farthest he had ever gotten with a girl was a blowjob, the whole mansion groaned with the frequency Jeff brought it up. Whenever he got a chance to embarrass the brunette you best believe he was going to, despite your belief that Toby could easily lay his ass out but just chose not to.

You had been sleeping around with Jeff for a while, the horny killer always willing to show you a good time whenever you asked for it. But that also meant dealing with his obnoxious mouth, and whatever bullshit insults he had conjured that day. So when you got wind of Jeff’s hounding on the boy, your heart ached. You and Toby were about the same age, and your backstories for how you ended up under Slender’s care were more or less the same. Bad home life turned murderous. There was a sense of familiarity in him, so you couldn’t just let your obnoxious fuck buddy run his mouth without you saying something.

“Listen, Jeff.” You groaned, curling your legs under you in the passenger seat of his old truck, heading back to the mansion after a particularly aggravating mission. Jeff eyed you, head propped on his fist as he leaned against the open window, the cool night air wafting in as he drove down the familiar back roads. Toby sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window as his brown curls swayed in the wind. Slender had assigned the three of you together, apparently unaware of the high tensions between the two boys. It just made completing the mission that much more difficult. “You’ve gotta lay off Toby. The poor kids gonna cut your head off if you don’t quit talking about his dick.” You mumbled, staring at the dense trees flying by. Jeff groaned, sitting back against his seat as he turned a sharp curve, cringing at you. A slow rock song mumbled through the radio, the atmosphere nice besides the sour mood in the truck.

“Ain’t my fault the stutter’s practically a virgin.” He laughed dryly, looking into the rearview mirror and catching Toby’s nasty look at him, neck jerking. You were assigned some bullshit job to take out a couple of guys who vandalized the mansion, how they ever got that close and lived you had no idea. But with Toby bickering with Jeff’s snarky attitude, it was nearly impossible for them to focus. Two hours longer than it should have taken, you were finally headed back to the mansion, praying to get away from the two. 

“Don’t be acting like you weren’t a virgin before I came along.” You huffed, turning to catch Toby snickering lowly, looking back out the window quickly before Jeff could see. Jeff grits his teeth, rolling his eyes as he leans forward, staring daggers at you. “Oh, come on now. You’re talking real big for someone that begs for me to fuck them once a week.” He snarled, reaching his arm across the console and gripping your thigh tightly, glancing between you and the road. Toby was still laughing quietly, amused by the bickering not focused on him for once. But this time Jeff heard him, whipping his wide eyes around quickly to laugh at the boy. “No fucking way the virgin’s laughing!” He hollered, throwing his head back as he laughed annoyingly, just loud enough to prove a point. You slapped his arm, pushing his hand off your thigh as you hissed.

“Jeff.”

He rolled his eyes, glancing between you and the rearview mirror, snarling at Toby. The brunette just stared awkwardly between you two, back pressed flush against the seat as you turned to look back at him, nodding your apology. Toby smiled at you, his cheek twitching at the movement. But as you turned back forward, Jeff’s pale face sat shocked and angry as he glanced between the two of you. You glared at him, but that felt all too much as he faced forward quickly, shoving the wheel to the left and throwing the truck off the road, pulling next to the thick treeline and slamming on the brakes. You yelped, bracing your hands on the dash as he threw the truck in park and shut the engine off, the low rock song still beating through the old speakers. Toby cursed, groaning as he pushed himself off of Jeff’s seat and shook his head.

Before you could berate the pale killer, he was already throwing open his door, jumping out and quickly shoving the back door open as well. You watched as Toby struggled frantically against him, punching his shoulders as Jeff hauled him from the truck and onto the grass below. You yelled, throwing open your door and dodging to the opposite side of the truck. Jeff was already on top of the boy, loud grunts and curses ringing as they pushed against each other, fists flying and grappling the other. Toby was holding him off, but with Jeff holding his knee on his stomach, there was little Toby could do to fight him off. They were throwing their palms into each other’s faces, pushing their necks and nearly hurting themselves. So you yelled, instincts thrown as you gripped Jeff by his messy hair, tugging him back by the head until he was hissing. 

As you pulled him off of the smaller boy, you beat his chest with your fist, furious. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You snarled, pushing his chest back against the side of the truck with a loud thud. Thankfully this road was practically abandoned, nobody having any reason to travel back this far unless it was a hunting season, so no one just saw the throwdown that you just broke up. Toby panted behind you, your body standing between the two so Jeff had no choice but to focus on your angry face. “Fu- fuckin’ psycho…” Toby grits, spitting onto the ground as he sits up on his elbows. You still stared at Jeff, your questioning expression enough to make him groan. 

When Toby began to cough, you turned, reaching an arm out to help him stand. You gave him a once over, making sure Jeff hadn’t done any serious damage as you hauled him up. He was slightly taller than you, his goofy smile thankful as he pulled his mask down under his chin, wiping the dirt from his cheek. You sighed, turning back to Jeff and glaring, but getting caught off guard by his disgusted expression. Jeff towered over the both of you, his nasty scowl making you worried. 

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you two were fuckin’.” Jeff growled, pushing off the truck and shouldering the two of you apart, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and staring into the woods. Toby and you awkwardly glanced at each other, the brunette stepping out of the way as you shuffled to Jeff’s side. “Jeff. You’re being unreasonable.” You grit, shoving his shoulder as he glanced at you, groaning. But he turned back to Toby, glaring daggers at the boy until he glanced back at you, a small smirk appearing on his sullen face. The pale killer shuffled to Toby’s side, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders, making him flinch away. Jeff held his head tight against his side, making the boy stare through his messy hair at you as you nervously watched. “Tell me, twitch. You ever thought about my girl before? While you’re jerkin’ it, maybe?”

There was a nasty grin on Jeff’s face as you blushed, crossing your arms as the brunette stared at the ground. Jeff didn't appreciate the silence so he hauled Toby’s head up, gripping him by the back of the hair and making his eyes face you. “Jeff-”

“Ah, ah. I’m asking him.” Jeff cut you off, nudging Toby by his side until his shoulders twitched under the pressure. “Whaddya say, Toby?” You glanced nervously between the two, both of their eyes on you as you waited for either an answer or for Jeff to shove off. Music still thumped from the truck, the cool night air blowing your hair gently until there were goosebumps on your skin.  Toby’s eyes frantically glanced between you and the ground, his freckled cheeks a dark tint as he searched for an answer. You had no idea what had gotten into Jeff, but you were growing tired and more embarrassed by the second. Toby closed his eyes, shaking his head as Jeff scoffed, shoving him back to the ground

“I guess we’ll just find out then, huh?” Jeff smiled wildly, stepping over Toby to move to you, your body subconsciously taking a step back before pale hands wrapped around your waist, pushing you in front of him. Jeff stood flush behind you, hands on your hips as he looked down at Toby, the brunette perched against the rear tire of the truck. You pushed against Jeff's hands, protesting lightly as he hugged around your waist, nudging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing lightly, keeping his eyes on Toby the whole time. You groaned, trying to squirm away from his grasp as he nibbled on your neck, kissing small pecks up your jaw and to your ear. Your cheeks grew hot, anxiously glancing between Jeff and Toby, the brunette’s eyes having a hard time looking away from you as Jeff ravaged the side of your face. 

You stifled a groan when Jeff’s cool hands slid under your shirt, pressing light touches against your skin. You gasped, tugging your shirt down as his arms pushed the fabric up, panicking against him. “Jeff- Stop-” You huffed, tugging at his arms, but the pale killer only laughed, nibbling behind your ear as he watched Toby carefully become flustered. You glanced at the brunette, his cheeks dark and knees pressed close to his chest, unable to do anything but watch you fidget under pale arms. Jeff was making a spectacle out of you, teasing the poor boy at your expense. But there was little you could do as he tugged your shirt up, despite your protests.

When he got your shirt over your head, you could literally see the panic in Toby’s eyes. You screwed your eyes shut, whining as Jeff reached behind to unclip your bra and tug it off your shoulders. The brunette was quick to look down, finding your feet inches away from him far more interesting. Jeff didn’t appreciate that, taking your tits in his hands and kneading roughly. “Oh, don’t get shy now, twitch. You gotta own up to how much of a pervert you are.” The killer smiled, pinching your nipples until he heard you hiss, your cheeks hot and breath heavy. 

“The o- only pervert here is yo- you, Jeff…” Toby grunted, eyes glancing up quickly to your tits but back down nervously as he caught the fingers on them. You desperately tugged on Jeff’s hoodie sleeves, teeth gritted as he finally let go and ran his hands down your waist. His cool hands were quick to unbutton your jeans, pushing his hand past your waistline and down into your panties. You yelped, grabbing at his arm and begging the perverted hand out, Jeff only groaning. “Oh, stop acting like you don’t fuckin’ love this, babe.” He hissed in your ear, gripping your wrists and tugging them behind your back, his left hand securing them between his body as his right reentering your panties. You whined, hips bucking frantically as his thick fingers slid between your folds, pushing your wetness onto the digits. Jeff chuckled lowly, pressing his right knee between your legs and forcing your thighs open as his fingers prodded against your clit. 

Toby couldn’t look away now, his flushed cheeks dark as his eyes widened. He was twitching frantically, his neck jerking against the mental override he was experiencing. You stared at him through heavy eyes, embarrassment tugging at your stomach as you begged the boy to look away. Jeff was always one for proving a point no matter the expense, so as he pushed his fingers into your entrance, stretching you wide, he was quick to snap at the brunette. 

“Well look at that, twitch. You ever fingered a girl before? Ever made her squirm this much?” Jeff teased, Toby’s head shaking slowly as his lips fell open, his eyes refusing to look anywhere else. Your arms protested against Jeff, but his strong grip held both of them easily, keeping your chest out and ass pressed back against him. His bulge was already evidently, his psychotic personality getting him excited at your struggle. His thick fingers curled inside of you, pushing little whines and hisses from your lips until you were hunched over, gasping as pleasure racked your cunt. Jeff was chuckling against your neck, nibbling on the skin and leaving little red marks wherever his teeth grazed. It made you whine, your eyes growing heavy and your face hot as you were forced to face Toby, hunched over so your face was right above his. A cool palm nudged against your clit, making your hips grind down and relish in the friction. Toby was so lost in the scene, his knees rubbing together nervously as he glanced quickly between your flushed face and Jeff’s hands shoved into your pants. His bulge was evident against his jeans, his hands gripping the grass below him as he nudged his thighs together, desperately trying to grasp at some sort of friction. 

Jeff ground his hips into your clothed ass, his bulge rubbing against you as he huffed against your neck. “Come on, tell the boy how good you feel.” He grunted, slotting his thick fingers in and out of your cunt quickly, your hips bucking against his palm. He was pulling gasps from you, every curl of his fingers making you mewl your pleasure. Your embarrassment had faded, excitement coursing through you as Toby began to palm himself through his jeans, his hitched groans making you whine as you locked eyes. “Ah… Jeff…” You groaned through gritted teeth when his thick fingers pressed deep against your walls, gushing your arousal around his cool fingers. The killer chuckled, letting your wrists go to snap onto your hip, pulling your hips back so he could grind into your ass easier. You felt your stomach knotting, your hips stuttering against his fingers as you began to whine, biting your cheek. “Toby…” Toby gasped under you, eyes wide as he ground into his hand, mesmerized by you. Eyes locked, you could feel yourself close to that familiar edge, chasing Jeff’s fingers as they curled deep. 

But as if he could sense it, Jeff tugged his fingers out of your warm walls, sliding them out of your pants and chucking wickedly as you whined. You were shocked, hips still bucking as he held your hips, refusing to let you move. You were teetering on that lovely edge, so close to getting off but so quickly stripped of that feeling that you could’ve cried. 

Jef tugged your pants down, pulling your damp panties with them until you kicked them off your ankles. You were completely exposed to the cool air, goosebumps riddling your skin as Jeff bent down, hooking his hands under your knees and tugging you up quickly. Your back was pressed flush against his chest, laying all your weight as your held your knees apart, your throbbing cunt face first with Toby’s face. You whined loudly, hands reaching back to grip Jeff’s messy hair as your cheeks grew dark, eyes pleading as you stared at the boy under you. “Go on. Make her cum.” Jeff commanded, holding you up easily as he watched Toby, beckoning the nervous boy. 

The brunette sat up unsurely, climbing onto his knees as he watched your dark face. He stripped his jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him as he pressed closer, heavy breath brushing against your sensitive folds. You whined, hips trying to buck to his face but Jeff’s hands holding you still, tsking. “Go on, twitch.” Toby nodded nervously, sliding his fingers up to press your folds apart, eyes flinching to your face worriedly when you gasped. His freckled face looked so cute under you, his goggles pushing his bangs off his forehead and letting you see the flushed skin as he pushed closer. His tongue pressed first, licking a thick stripe between your folds before his soft lips pressed in, sucking on your sensitive clit. Jeff growled, pushing your hips closer to the brunette as you moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, God-” You hummed, eyes slamming shut as Toby flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud. 

Your back arched against Jeff, fingers gripping his hair tight as you rutted against the warm tongue lapping at your arousal. Toby spread your lips with his fingers, flattening his tongue against your entrance as humming against you. He pushed further, slipping his tongue into your warmth and making you groan, your hand instantly shooting down to rub your clit and push you close. Toby’s eyes stayed hooded, watching eagerly as your fingers brushed against his nose, his tongue shoved into your cunt. “Le- Let me…” He grunted, sliding his hand up to shove yours away and take its place, slowly circling your clit with the pads of his fingers. You could barely breathe through all the gasps and whines that spilt from your lips, Jeff’s fingernails gripping your leg as he watched the scene unfold. He was smiling and huffing his arousal, teeth nibbling against your ear as he pushed your hips against Toby’s tongue, pulling your knees back further to give the brunette more access. “Does his tongue feel good, babe? You gonna cum on his face?” Jeff cooed, rutting his hips up against your bare ass as Toby lapped at your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to push deeper.

Nodding frantically, you could already feel yourself clamping down, Jeff’s lewd words making your core twitch as fingers rubbed against your clit. “Toby-” You whined, bucking your hips up as you felt your orgasm crash into you. Toby was quick to hold your hips, burying his face deeper into your cunt as he soaked up your arousal on his tongue, groaning at the taste. Jeff growled, teeth digging into your shoulder as Toby’s fingers rubbed your orgasm out, your thighs trying to twitch shut. When you finally breathed deep, Toby slipped his tongue out, hooded eyes gazing at your hot face, your cheeks flushed and sweaty. He smiled goofily, fingers spreading your soaked lips as he admired your still throbbing cunt, palming himself. Jeff slowly let your legs down, hooking his arm around your waist when your knees buckled from your sensitivity. 

“Damn, Toby…” He groaned, unzipping his jeans and freeing his heavy cock, the tip already smeared with pre. The pale killer gripped you to his side, staring down at the brunette still on his knees as he began to fist his length lazily. Toby sat back on his calves, eyes flicking nervously as he watched Jeff tug you towards the truck, pressing his back against the door and holding you in front of him. Toby stood awkwardly, fidgeting his hands as he watched Jeff push you back, gripping his hands around your head and bringing your mouth to his cock. You didn’t even think, mouth opening almost on instinct as you bent at the waist, bracing your hands against his thighs and taking the twitching length in your mouth like you had done it a thousand times before. Jeff sighed, gripping your hair into a ponytail and bobbing you slowly as he began to talk. 

“You wanna fuck her?” He grinned, grunting as you moaned your approval around his girth. Toby gasped quietly, eyes focused on watching you take Jeff so easily as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Jeff spread his legs wider, pressing his shoulders back against the glass of the door and cupping your cheek, forcing you to bury your face onto his cock, gagging against him. The pale killer groaned, eyeing Toby expectantly as the brunette nodded, his nervousness fading as he watched you submit to Jeff so easily. He wanted that. He wanted you to want him that way. 

Toby had always thought you were cute, his aggravation with Jeff spreading when the killer claimed you for his use. Toby thought the guy was ungrateful for such a pretty girl as you, wishing it was him who was dragging you upstairs to his room after a bad day. The bad thing about all living in the same hallway was the lack of noise privacy, so every time Toby heard your little whines echoing against his wall, there was little he could do against his straining arousal. 

But now, with your hips in the air and your cunt so beautifully waiting, Toby would show you. Despite his lack of experience, the brunette had watched enough porn to know what he wanted, to know exactly how he needed to treat you. The boy nodded, unzipping his jeans and sliding behind you, awkwardly gripping your hips. Your back muscles twitched and pulsed as you strained to bob at the pace Jeff was wanting you to go, the killer’s dark eyes grinning as he watched Toby nervously slip out his cock. The tip was red and leaking, twitching desperately as the brunette bent his knees, angling his head to press between your soft folds and find your entrance. You gasped, immediately pressing back against him but Jeff’s hands held your head, giving you little room to move as you slobbered on his length. 

The killer was being possessive, inspecting the brunette's every move as he pushed into you slowly, watching your expressions for any sign that you weren’t enjoying it. You moaned around his cock, tongue flattening against the underside and flicking against the gaudy veins that ran up it. Jeff huffed, relishing in the way your slobber pooled at the sides of your mouth as you screwed your eyes shut, focusing on not choking on his girth. But he wanted you to. He wanted to put on a good show for the kid. 

Placing his hands on either side of your head, he thrust quickly into the heat of your mouth, head knocking against the back of your throat and making you gag. He smiled, pulling back to the head before slamming back in, trying his best to pull any noises he could from your constricted throat. 

Toby watched carefully, mouth hanging lazily as he bottomed out inside of you. You were so warm, the heat swallowing him impossibly tight as he struggled not to move. His cock wasn’t as long as Jeff’s, but fuck did it still stretch you so good. You ground your hips back, moaning at the way the boy’s nails dug into your hips desperately. You had already ruined porn for him, your cunt gripping him the way his fist never could. He was already hooked. “God… O- Oh my god…” Toby gasped, shallowly thrusting into your cunt and drooling at the way your entrance tugged against him every time he pulled out. You were so pretty, your flushed skin warm under his scarred fingers, he couldn’t help but knead your ass apart as he ground into you.

In your opinion, the two boys were so impossibly different. Jeff was an ego trip, dick thinking before his brain did and making him a cocky little bitch who loved to show off. But Toby, on the other hand, was an awkward kid whose brain ran faster than the rest of him. It made him sensitive, but so dangerously impulsive at the same time. But right now, with their cocks buried on either side of you, their differences were even more prominent. Jeff was rough and loud, even on his best days caring only if you ended up babbling his name out of overstimulation. But Toby was nervous, inexperienced and trying his best to fulfill those urges he so desperately had. It was dizzying how differently they treated you.

You ground back against Toby, arching your back against his small thrusts and begging him to dare faster. He panted behind you, neck twitching and face contorting with every stretch he could feel inside of you. “Faster, twitch,” Jeff grunted, angling his cock in your mouth so he could fuck your throat, smiling at the way you gurgled on your spit. Toby hesitated for a minute, looking at the killer unsurely. 

“She wants you to go, ah, faster.” He hissed, snapping his hips as you gripped his jeans, begging for air. After so much time sleeping around, Jeff could read your body language like a book. It was beyond annoying, especially when he could tell you were aroused despite your bickering that you weren’t. But in this case, you thanked him by pressing your head down further, pushing your nose into his pubes. 

Toby nodded frantically, spreading his feet wider so he could angle himself up, slowly snapping his hips faster. He gripped your hips, his fingerless gloves nipping against your skin until you were whining loudly, gut-clenching in pleasure as his cock nudged against your g-spot. You arched your back, letting the brunette groan and hiss his pleasure behind you as you thrust your hips back, matching his pace. It wasn’t long before he was ramming into you, skin snapping loudly as he gave in and abandoned his nervousness. Jeff was eager too, nearly matching the brunette’s pace as he forced his cock down your throat, only pulling back every so often so you could suck on the head and catch your breath. “So- So warm…”

Jeff grits his teeth, challenging the twitching boy opposite of him as he stares daggers through his hooded eyes. “You gonna cum, twitch? Gonna spill in her?” Jeff was teasing him, the killer’s own orgasm quick on his heels as he slipped out of your mouth, slapping the wet length against your cheek. You were gasping, whines mixing as Toby snapped his hips, hissing. “I- I, ah, can’t-” He whined, your walls clamping against his aching cock, milking him quickly. Jeff grinned, popping his cock back in your mouth and letting you suck on the head while he talked. “Sure you can. Had her on the pill for a while now. Get to fill her cunt full whenever I want.” 

It was true. Jeff was so insanely horny that he had opted for stealing birth control pills from the pharmacy off the highway nearby just so he didn’t have to pull out. But you couldn’t complain, cumming around a cock was heavenly. 

Toby stared wide-eyed, a new fire igniting in him as he pressed his hands around your waist and began to slam his hips brutally. You yelped, eyes rolling as the boy thrust deeply into you, his teeth gritted and grunting. Jeff laughed wickedly, tugging your chin down with his thumb as he pushed his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, grunting as he matched Toby’s pace in your throat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight when Toby gripped your hips and hauled you up, your feet leaving the ground. He hunched over you, breathing raggedly as he fucked up into your cunt, squelching and slapping loud in your ears. 

It was all too much, so many sensations and so full your body couldn’t resist itself anymore. You buried your around Jeff’s cock as you came, eyes rolling hard as your cunt clamped down against the unfamiliar girth. Your legs were spasming, feet kicking in the air as Toby moaned, digging his nails deep. 

They both buried in you at the same time, their ragged moans and loud breathing making your gut twist as you felt warm seed spilling into you. You tried to swallow quickly, choking on the salty liquid as Jeff hunched over you, gripping your head tight in his pale hands. Toby’s cock twitched inside of you, knees shaking as he let himself spill into your warmth. Jeff pulled out first, letting his leaking head rest against your swollen lips as tears spilt down your cheeks, your mind so hazy you couldn’t breathe straight. He chuckled, hooking his hands under your armpits and tugging you up against his chest, Toby slipping out of you with a groan. You panted against Jeff’s shoulder, eyes heavy and cunt throbbing as he picked you up and snapped at Toby to grab your clothes. 

So when Toby climbed into the passenger seat and Jeff sat you sideways on his lap, tugging you close to his chest, you breathed deep. Toby’s bangs were stuck against his forehead from the sweat, his red freckled cheeks watching you so closely as he ran his hand between your thighs, your head falling onto his shoulder as he fingered his cum inside of you. Jeff grinned as he started the truck, hauling it back onto the road and speeding towards the mansion, occasionally reaching over to press his thick fingers in with Toby’s and make you cry. The brunette pressed his chin against your head, rubbing your clit as Jeff’s fingers pressed Toby’s cum deep into your cunt, tugging yet another orgasm out of you as the same slow rock music pounded against the speakers. 

You could barely think as they dressed you, pulled up to the mansion and hauled you inside, Toby carrying you to your room and setting you between them as they cleaned you up. Jeff still bickered with Toby, rolling your eyes as you slipped into sleep below them. 

But as the weeks passed and Toby began showing up at your door with that pleading look in his eyes as frequently as Jeff, there was little you could do to resist. Even when the two showed up together, scheming some new position they wanted to try and arguing the whole time, your heart fluttered.

So when their sharp words turned to breathy groans, you realized that maybe the only way they could stand each other was if you were distracting them, giving them something better to focus on.

This is a birthday present for @carmoronic! Live it up!!!!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[dreamsteddie]

Once Steve and Eddie come out to the broader world, Eddie's floodgates open, and before interviewers can even think to ask about his "long-term partner and love of my life" Eddie starts gabbing about Steve almost as soon as a microphone is put near his face.

At first, Eddie refuses any and all requests to be on talk shows or long-form interviews. Steve himself has no desire to be interviewed ever, and Eddie wants the media hype to die down before he makes any big appearances off the stage. He knows that if he does the conversation will be a glorified investigation into his private life no holds bared.

So Eddie takes the occasional question after a show or on the red carpet but always dominates the conversation and finishes quickly. He's always dropping little tidbits about Steve, even if it's just talking about whether or not he was able to make the show or how handsome he looks in their matching outfits today.

Once the hype dies down and the media vultures aim their beaks at another celebrity, Eddie agrees to do a couple of talk shows with the rest of the band.

Everything is normal. The focus is on their next leg of the tour and the music video they released last week that went viral. Right up until the last three or so minutes when the interviewer asks, kindly, how his boyfriend Stevie is doing.

Stevie.

As in Eddie's Stevie.

The name only Eddie and Robin have ever called him. The name that used to make Steve flush so pretty when they first started drifting together. The name that still makes Steve give him one of those pleased little smiles that make his heart pitter-patter in his chest years later.

Eddie's hackles are immediately raised at the audacity of this stranger to talk about his boyfriend so familiarly. His shoulders rise, eyes narrowing ready to say something scathing when the rest of the band notices and steps in. Jeff drops a not-so-friendly hand on Eddie's shoulder while Freak steps in to very loudly tell a funny story about the last time Steve joined them on the road. Emphasizing "Steve" a little too much as he does.

When Eddie finally gets to stalk off stage he's let himself get worked into a tizzy. Logically, it's not a big deal but Eddie has always been territorial when it came to Steve and has been even more on edge since they came out. The idea of anyone outside of their family acting like they know them, know him, just because he's married to Rockstar Eddie Munson and shows up in the occasional gossip rag makes him so fucking mad.

As soon as he's backstage he's dialing Steve's number, impatiently running one hand through his hair as the phone rings and rings. As soon as he hears the beginning of Steve's standard WASPy "Hello, this is the Harrington-Buckley residence, Steve speaking" greeting Eddie launches into a long rant about "the audacity of media vultures."

Steve doesn't say a word the entire time, just letting Eddie vent out his frustrations. At the end, Steve lets the silence linger for a little bit before speaking.

"Hey babe?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"I don't know how to tell you this but you've been referring to me exclusively as 'Stevie' since we came out. I'm pretty sure when we made the announcement you said 'This is my Stevie. He's been my partner for six years.'"

".....what?"

"In fact, I'm sure that's exactly what you said because Robin replaced all my nametags at work with ones that said 'My Stevie' because she has the sense of humor of a middle schooler."

"God fucking damn it!"

They hang up not long after. When Eddie looks up for the first time since he dialed Steve's number he's met with the rest of the band and their personal crew all wearing various faces of exasperation.

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he rocks on the balls of his feet and says "Sooooooo...I may have overreacted."

----

The next day, despite Eddie's hopes that his outburst wasn't that noticeable, his clearly irate face is the subject of every magazine and gossip rag at the grocery store.

Robin frames her favorite one and gives it to Eddie for his birthday.

[spicycinnabun]

Eddie tapped his pen against his clipboard, sighing loudly as the second to last auditionee left the stage, accordion and all. He crossed the name out on his sheet. “Okay, no way in hell.”

He shook his head and glared when Gareth weakly protested, “He was okay…”

“No, man. My grandmother has more vocal talent than him, and she had a laryngectomy in fifty-five. Let’s hope this last guy is better, or we’ll have to put out more ads.” Eddie climbed up onto the table, sitting cross-legged on it. It had been a long day of auditions, and he wasn’t feeling particularly friendly. He double-checked his clipboard, then called out, “Steve Harrington? Come on out.”

The sound of footsteps echoed through the theatre. Eddie’s spine straightened a little at the figure who appeared from behind the curtain and stepped into the spotlight, his eyes narrowing.

First of all, Steve Harrington was preppy. There was absolutely nothing Corroded Coffin about this dude. He was perfectly coiffed. No piercings, no grease in his hair, no visible tattoos. From his clean white t-shirt to his mom jeans, down to his sporty Nike’s, he couldn’t be less metal if he tried.

Secondly, he was gorgeous. There were no ifs, ands or buts about that. Eddie fought to keep his indifferent, slightly disgruntled expression on his face. Fought harder to keep his heart from beating a little faster.

This was stupid. There was no way this fucking angel-haired, Ken dolled, boy band of a man was going to have their sound.

Eddie’s pen was already poised beside Steve Harrington, about to cross it out.

Then Harrington leaned into the mic, introduced himself with a confidence and swagger reminiscent of Presley, and started singing.

Eddie’s wrist jerked, his pen halting. His eyes widened. Behind him, Gareth and Jeff shared an equally wide-eyed look, Gareth grinning like a loon.

Well, shit.

��So, maybe Eddie was wrong.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧

When Eddie sees her, sitting on the picnic table, her feet shuffling back and forth on the bench like that one dancing scene from The Breakfast Club (so what if he went to go see it? It's a good flick!), he almost runs back the way he came.

Because here's the thing about Robin Buckley.

While Eddie's status at the bottom of the social ladder is guaranteed, what with his hobbies and his music and his ability to irritate even the most patient of individuals (bar Uncle Wayne, blessed be the man), he doesn't fuck with Robin Buckley.

She was never anything to write home or gossip over coffee about, not when Eddie started his first senior year or even before that, when he was just starting up Hellfire and went to band to see if he could recruit any lonesome souls. Robin wasn't interested then, more keen to avoid his eye and fumble with her uniform, so he chalked her up as another lost to the masses.

Then all the shit with the Zombie Boy (a killer moniker, wouldn't that make for an awesome song title?! But he doesn't know if it'd be like, copyright infringement or whatever) went down and he got a little more protective of his circle, cloaking them from the unmerciful eyes of the Hawkins mob, pushing back when shit hit the fan and that mob tried impeding on his people.

And it worked! Nobody messed with him or his, not enough to be met with more than a snort - hell, even that asshole Hargrove stayed away after Eddie pulled a knife on him in the school parking lot. He wonders if all that wild anger the dick had to choke down went into the fight he had with -

Anyways.

Point is that Eddie knows his place, and thanks to a little intimidation and a lot of false-turned-true-confidence, nobody messes with him.

The thing is - he still doesn't mess with Robin Buckley.

Like he said, she was always another one of the masses to him, and he never expected any different.

But then something happened to her.

Some people say that she got trapped in the mall fire and it burned half her face off, she's just wearing enough makeup to cover it up, but it messed with her head.

Other people say she was always a little - uh, airheaded, he'll say, to be polite - and the Starcourt fire just made it more obvious, burned through the façade she'd wear in public.

One or two voices whisper that she's being haunted, that when she laughs to herself in the silence of the classroom, it's because of the spirits of Starcourt's casualties that lurk in her shadow.

(That last one was Jeff actually, and Eddie has to hand it to him for the poetic imagery.)

Any way he hears it, Eddie's instincts go red alert, telling him to give Robin a wide berth in the hallways, to avoid eye contact for longer than a single moment, to ignore her quiet snickers every time he ties his hair up.

So yeah, when he's about to head to his favourite picnic table and finds wacky Robin Buckley laughing to herself as the leaves around the table kick up without a hint of wind in the air, he almost turns around and shoves himself back into his van. Eddie Munson may be a freak but he's no -

"Oh, you're here."

He freezes in his steps, glancing back to see Robin smiling thinly at him, one legged crossed over the other as she leans back. Her eyes glaze over for a second before she barks out a laugh, making Eddie jump in place.

"Didn't expect you, to be honest." She tilts her head.

Eddie's throat is too dry. He starts a sentence, backtracking when the leaves stop kicking up and it's just his shaky voice in the silence between the trees. "Well, it is my spot, Buckley."

Her eyes glint and she uncrosses her legs just to spread them, leaning in and staring at Eddie with an untethered expression stretching across her face. "Is it?" Her raspy voice asks.

Blood roars in Eddie's ears. His fingers twitch, and he's ready to run.

"Don't." She orders and he freezes. "We need to talk."

He hates it when people say that. It's always, always bad news and it's just too cliché.

"And what, pray tell," he says, raising his arms out with a confidence he doesn't feel. "Is it that you could ask of me?"

The leaves kick up behind him. He resolutely ignores it.

Sighing, Robin crosses her legs, shuffling back on the table (and they call Eddie a heathen, jeez). She looks to the right, where the leaves are swirling in a mini tornado. Her smile is small, and a little sad.

"We need your help."

Eddie gasps as the leaves kick up ferociously, the wind bites at his fingertips and Robin glares at him, at the chaos around them with eyes like nothing he's ever seen.

"Stop it."

"Wh -"

"I said stop," She glares at him and his jaw clicks shut. "We agreed - yeah, yeah, we did! Stop it, you're scaring him!"

"I -"

"I'd say the grown-ups are talking," Robin cuts him off with an eye-roll. "But someone's being a big baby."

"Look, Buckley -"

"I swear to god," Robin waves a hand towards Eddie. "Either you play nice, or we're never figuring this out! Do you wanna be invisible to everyone forever?!"

There's a heavy silence at that.

No leaves rustling, no wind, no nothing.

It's like the entire forest just went...dead.

Then Eddie feels a brush of something down his hand and he screams.

"Awesome!" Eddie jumps when Robin grabs his arm (when did she leave the table?!), staring at her smile as foul terror quakes his bones. "Don't be afraid, Eddie. We won't hurt you."

A rustle of leaves smack his shin and he shrieks, unable to jump (or run) thanks to Robin's steel grip.

"Well, not physically."

"Buckley, I have never messed with you before," Eddie whispers as the something trails down his hand, shoulders and face. He's frozen in the wake of the touch. "Fellow freaks of Hawkins and all, but -"

Whatever it is, it grips Eddie by the shoulders and his jaw clicks shut. Robin's grasp on his arm tightens and she nods, staring into space.

"Okay, so could you do it?"

Silence. Eddie's heartbeat races.

"Like what?"

The something ghosts over his fingers and he almost whimpers.

"Oh, like this!"

With that, Robin grabs Eddie's hand and takes off one of his rings. Before he can sputter or shout or cry, she replaces it with one of her own.

And then, like he was always there, Steve Harrington appears before his eyes.

A bloodied, ghastly Steve Harrington who's staring right into him.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers and the spectre grins a sharp, toothy grin.

"Hey Munson," Steve croons. "Miss me?"

[munsonhoneybaby]

Three's Company | Eddie Munson X F!Reader X Gareth

Summary: When Gareth accidentally interrupts your typical evening with Eddie, the night takes a turn that none of you were expecting.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, alcohol consumption and heavy marijuana use so automatic dubcon, smut, mostly pwp, p in v (unprotected), voyeurism, fingering, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), daddy kink (used a total of 5 times), hair pulling, choking, little praise, little degradation, honestly just a touch ‘a everything yk how it goes

A/N: it’s not specifically stated but gareth is about 21-22 and eddie is 23, about to turn 24. this is honestly just one big filthy mess i can’t lie, so just brace yourself. and i did throw in a lil action with gareth right at the end for all my gareth girlies out there <3

started with this idea | part two

Smoke hung densely in the air, thick clouds drifting lazily through the small bedroom. The three of you were working your way through your third joint, the windows sealed and trapping the hot, heavy air inside. Empty beer bottles sat scattered on almost every surface, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s still two-thirds full on the nightstand beside three miscellaneous coffee mugs. Yours was white with a picture of a crab and said ‘Don’t bother me I’m crabby’.

You watched your boyfriend as he tapped the joint against the rim of the ashtray before leaning over you to pass it to his drummer. The openings of the cut-off sleeves of his Led Zepplin tee flashed you the dark ink crawling across his ribs. His rings clinked against Gareth’s in the handover, just loud enough to hear over the mixtape that you’d made for you and Eddie. It wasn’t exactly designed to suit the usual mood when the guys were over– Jeff would usually be there, too– but the two of you had started the evening alone together.

Eddie had been rolling up for the night at his desk when his friend called him. Apparently, Jeff had plans with a friend from work, leaving Gareth woefully bored and lonely; on a Saturday night, no less. It had you both feeling a little sorry for him, so you told Eddie to invite him over. After grumbling under his breath– something about ‘just wanting to fuck his girl in peace’– he begrudgingly did as you suggested and your party of two became three in less than thirty minutes.

You didn’t mind, though. Whoever said two’s company and three’s a crowd must have never spent two hours sitting, drinking, smoking, and talking with Gareth and Eddie.

“Sorry again for crashing your date,” Gareth apologized to you. “If Ed told me you were here, I wouldn’t’ve come.”

Eddie stood to pour a finger or two of whiskey into his Campbell’s Soup mug and you stretched your leg out, using your sock-covered foot to nudge your own mug closer to him. “Oh, so you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore?”

He scoffed, “C’mon, you know I think you’re cool as shit.” After topping off all three drinks, Eddie handed Gareth his. “I just don’t wanna third-wheel you guys too much. ‘S a little rude and pathetic, don’t’cha think?”

The boy took a swallow with a faint grimace, then rolled the desk chair he was sitting in about a foot closer to offer you the joint. “It’s not pathetic, Gare. You’re just hanging out with friends.” The music faded out and your head lolled towards your boyfriend with a lazy grin as “One of These Nights” by Eagles began. He just shook his head at you with a little smirk, biceps flexing as he raised his arms to tie his hair back in a low ponytail. Settling himself on the bed, he let his back rest against the wall as he sat between you and where Gareth sat in his desk chair. 

You took a long drag, eyelids drooping as your head tilted against Eddie’s chest. His eyes roamed your body as it fitted to his. Your shorts were a little shorter than you’d normally wear in front of Gareth, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain as he eyed your bare legs curling over his lap. Smoke billowed slowly from your mouth and the feel of his friend’s gaze on the two of you wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning down to breathe the rest of it in for himself, lips slotting familiarly between your parted ones. From your knee, his hand crawled slowly up the outside of your thigh to your hip. Your own fingers wandered to his exposed ribs, stroking lightly over the small date forever etched into his skin– the date you’d gotten together, almost three years ago now. 

He didn’t tell you he was getting it; he knew you’d tell him not to, that it was a bad omen, but he didn’t believe that. Maybe you’d only been together for a year at the time, but you were a part of him. In fact, he’d wanted to have your name done, but after seeing your reaction to Rick getting his girlfriend’s name tattooed he’d worried you’d tear him a new one for it. Though you had to admit, it had grown on you. Maybe after ten years, you’ll let me add your name, huh babe, he’d said when he first showed you. Now the thought had your thighs squeezing together, the way you both knew you belonged to each other– the way everyone knew.

Gareth certainly knew, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him though he knew he’d been staring for far too long. Watching Eddie’s teeth tug on your lower lip had him gnawing at the inside of his own. A glimpse of his tongue slipping into your mouth had the younger boy’s palms sweating. It wasn’t until his breath hitched at the sight of his friend’s hand sneaking between your thighs that you finally seemed to remember he was there.

Swatting Eddie’s hands away, you passed the dwindling joint to him and fixed an apologetic look in Gareth’s direction. “Sorry, I’ll make sure he behaves.”

“It’s okay, sorry I uh- interrupted–” He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and cracked his knuckles. “You want me to roll another one?”

“Go for it.”

While he turned around at the desk, Eddie’s mouth was meeting the sensitive flesh below your ear. His tongue grazed your skin and you let out a small gasp before pinching his thigh in warning. He hissed, but that smug little smirk of his remained. 

Meanwhile, Gareth’s shaking hands were struggling not to rip the paper. He could hear all of it, even the occasional wet smack of his best friend’s mouth on your skin. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he shook his head a little and focused on finishing the task at hand. When he finally turned back around, his mouth went dry at the sight before him.

You sat comfortably between Eddie’s legs, back against his chest and head tilted to gaze up at him. He stared back at you with the same adoration, breathing in the last hit and ashing it in the tray on the nightstand. His free hand was halfway up your shirt and Gareth tried not to imagine the way his fingers must be teasing along your ribcage. He could see the blooming spot of red in the crook of your neck– which definitely wasn’t there before– slowly growing darker. So much for making sure he behaves. 

He handed Eddie the joint and lighter which earned him a crooked grin and a “good man.” He watched him place it between your lips instead, lighting it for you as the shape of his other hand moved higher beneath your baggy t-shirt. Still, he could make out how the older boy kneaded at one of your breasts beneath the fabric until you swatted at him yet again. His throat grew tight and he could only hope and pray that neither of you noticed his pants doing the same.

The two of you had always been a little handsy, and he couldn’t deny that part of him always had some trouble keeping his eyes away, but something was different tonight. Maybe you were acting a little more intimate, maybe it was the heady music you’d been playing all night– hell, maybe he was just too fucking crossed– but it was different. He was one second away from having a nervous breakdown or busting in his jeans.

Suddenly, he was struck by the deep twang of “I Want You” by The Beatles beginning. Eddie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, “Mmm, I fuckin’ love this song. Y’know that, Gareth? She loves this song too, don’t you, sweetheart? S’that why you put it on here?”

“Shut up.” You weakly elbowed him, but both boys still caught the way your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled, his nose dragging along your cheek as he murmured, “Yeah. My sweet girl wanted me to fuck her to this song tonight, didn’t you, baby? This one always makes her shake.” Your stomach flipped nervously as your wide eyes were forced to meet Gareth’s, your bewildered expression mirrored on his face. He went on. “Maybe we should show him, hm? I mean, since he feels so guilty ‘interrupting’ us and all. What d’you think?”

Gareth was starting to think the dream-like quality of the night was because he actually was dreaming. This is Eddie Munson. The same Eddie Munson who almost knocked a middle-aged man’s teeth out for whistling at you three months into your relationship. And now, what? He wanted to–

“Y’gonna let me fuck you in front of ‘im, sweetheart?”

By your deer-in-the-headlights expression, Gareth would assume you were just as shocked by this turn of events as he was– which you partially were. You and Eddie had mentioned once or twice the idea of letting someone watch, Gareth’s name had even been thrown around when discussing the subject over a packed bowl, but you’d had no idea he had been considering it so seriously. Still, you couldn’t deny the way Eddie’s words made the heat between your legs throb. Glancing up to meet his eyes with uncertainty, you bashfully whispered, “I-I don’t know if Gareth wants that, Eds.” 

Your boyfriend’s smirk only grew, fingers teasing at the waist of your shorts. “Don’t worry, babe, Gareth’s a dirty little pervert just like me. I mean, he’s been hard for twenty minutes.”

Finally, you glanced over at the boy in question whose face was now redder than you’d ever seen before, and his eyes immediately shot to the floor. He looked like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Knock it off, you’re embarrassing him. S’okay, Gare. You’re allowed to look.”

Hesitantly, he lifted his head and his heart could’ve stopped. Eddie was tilting your chin towards him for a kiss with one hand as the other worked its way into your shorts. The glimmer of his rings in the low light caught the younger boy’s attention, eyes following them down your throat until they disappeared beneath your shirt once again. Lips leaving your boyfriend’s, you turned to him and held out the joint that had apparently stopped burning. “Wanna come get this?”

He hoped you didn’t hear the shaky breath he let out as he willed his knees not to give out and stood from his seat at the desk. “Y’sure you don’t just want me to l-light it for you?” The faint tremble in his voice matched the one in his hand as he took it from you, embarrassment warming his cheeks.

You must have noticed as you replied, “S’okay. You clearly need it more than I do, honey.” His face only grew hotter as he clocked your eyes lingering on the obvious tent in his jeans. 

Finally speaking up again, Eddie chimed, “Seriously, man. Relax a little.”

In disbelief, Gareth faintly laughed out, “Right.” Dropping back down into the desk chair, he watched you and Eddie exchange a long look, almost like some form of confirmation. A check-in. He’d always admired how the two of you communicated so effortlessly. Frankly, he admired many facets of your relationship. He and Jeff had talked more than once about how they hoped they’d be lucky enough to find a connection like yours and Eddie’s. Still, he couldn’t believe you trusted each other enough for this– that you both trusted him enough for this.

Brain still cloudy with shock, he briefly glanced around his friend’s bedroom. Almost like he had to make sure he was really there. This was really happening. While Eddie was already attempting to peel your shorts off, you refused to assist him. Gareth’s fingers clutched at the arms of the chair as you graced him with your soft gaze instead. “You sure you’re not uncomfortable, Gare? You’re okay with this?”

Simply nodding dumbly in response, he was shocked when Eddie corrected him; “Use your words, Gareth.” He said it casually, but there was a subtle firmness behind it— one he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Eddie use before, especially toward him.

What shocked him more was the way he found his body tensing in response. Afraid the words wouldn’t come out, he sheepishly cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Swear.” God, could his face flush any redder? 

Your boyfriend finally forced you to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to shove your shorts down your legs. His hands eased along your inner thighs, spreading your legs and hooking one of them over his to keep them open. Gareth was just barely able to make out the faint wet spot beginning to form on your underwear. He had to resist the urge to lean in for a closer look like some teenager watching his first porno. Eddie’s ever-wandering fingers eased over that wet spot, rubbing in soft circles around your clit.

Puffing out a soft breath from your nose, you sank further into his chest. “Feels good, huh, baby? All worked up already ‘n I’ve hardly even touched you. That excited to show off your pretty little pussy?”

“Eddieee,” You grumbled, trying again to hide your face in his chest. 

“Don’t be so embarrassed, Gareth is even more excited than you are.” Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, he asked, “How ‘bout we give him some more to work with, hm?” Taking them off, he tossed them to his friend. Said friend was a goner. He blamed his crossfaded state of autopilot for the way he instantly lifted the material to his nose and took a deep breath. Eddie chuckled, “Told ya he was a perv.”

Gareth subtly palmed at his length, practically gnawing at his lower lip as he fought not to make a sound– God forbid he interrupt as Eddie spread your legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view of your dripping pussy. Fuck, he might as well have been drooling on the floor. He could hear your wetness as your boyfriend slipped his fingers between your slick-covered lips, easing around your clit a few times. Stuck in his glassy-eyed stare, he didn’t mean to let out a broken whimper as Eddie sank two fingers inside you.

Just as he was afraid of, the older boy instantly narrowed his gaze in his direction. “Oh, we’ve got our boy on the edge of his seat right now, baby. It’s okay, Gare. I know you’ve never seen anything like my girl before, you can take your cock out. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

The way Eddie spoke to him made his whole body blaze with shame, but he still found himself doing as he was told. When he looked at you again you were watching him fumble with his belt, button, and zipper. Finally freeing himself from the confines of his jeans, his cock twitched in his hand at the sight of the intrigue in your eyes, your tongue grazing across your lower lip. You clutched at Eddie’s bicep with a soft moan, walls clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Gettin’ all wet for my best friend’s dick?” His free hand grabbed your face, your cheeks squishing under his grip. “Didn’t know my sweet girl was that fuckin’ filthy.” You whined at the sudden emptiness as Eddie withdrew his hand from between your thighs, patting your leg with a soft murmur. “On your stomach, babe.” Obediently, you rolled over and he followed, kneeling behind you to grip your hips and lift them from the bed. “‘Atta girl.”

Your face warmed as you and Gareth looked at each other– you on your knees with your chest flush to the mattress and him with his pants just below his hips, his hand fisting his cock. Then Eddie’s fingers were knuckle-deep inside you again, curling into spots that only he had ever been able to find. Your hand shot back to grab at his thigh and you let out a surprised, gasping moan. “Daddy…”

While Gareth let out a quiet groan, Eddie just gave a low, condescending laugh. “Aw, sweetheart. I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘im. I didn’t wanna embarrass you too much, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Letting out little puffy breaths, your eyes welled with tears. Normally he would take this as an excuse to tease you further, but he didn’t want you getting too worked up with the added pressure of his friend’s presence. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back, “My little crybaby. It’s okay, Daddy’s here.” Your body relaxed, spine sinking deeper into its arch as his touch warmed your skin. “Would ya look at that?” Not that he had to ask; Gareth couldn’t stop looking. “She’s just such a sweet girl for me. Ain’t that right, baby? And so pretty. One of a kind, my girl.”

Taking in the scene before him, Gareth could only hope that wasn’t true. Because he wanted you– no, he wanted this. This thing, this passion and love that you two have for each other. Even as obscene a display as it was, he felt like he was witnessing something sacred, something holy. He was blessed further when Eddie brought you back to stand on your knees, your back to his chest as he lifted your shirt over your head.

Completely bare for both of them to gawk at, you were pointedly aware of your boyfriend’s fully clothed form behind you. He pinched teasingly at your nipple, making you arch further into him and grab at the hem of his shirt. Clawing for the skin just beneath it, you finally pleaded, “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes narrowed playfully; he just couldn’t help himself. “What do you say?”

“Please, Daddy,” You whined quietly with a pout.

With a quick wink and a crooked smirk, he crossed his arms to pull the ragged material over his head. You didn’t hesitate to seek out any inch of skin you could touch, a tremble licking down your spine as the soft warmth of his bare chest molded to it. Hands still pawing at your tits, his mouth worked its way down the length of your neck. “I love you,” He murmured against your shoulder, tone playful but still drenched in adoration.

“Love you more, Eddie.” 

“Impossible,” He whispered in return before leaving one more kiss. “Now, back down.” Goosebumps erupted at the touch of his rings on your back, guiding you down until your chest met his bed once again. “Isn’t she such a good listener?”

Gareth was almost nervous to say anything– like any answer he gave could be the wrong one, and the wrong one might get the shit knocked out of him. So, why did his stomach tighten when Eddie looked at him expectantly for an answer? “So good.”

“Just wait til you hear how she sounds.” Eddie finally pushed his sweatpants down to his thighs, rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness and drawing a surprised gasp from you. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed out impatiently.

Finally sinking inside, he didn’t stop until his hips were flush with your ass. Gareth’s hand stilled, fingers tightened around the base of his length to keep from coming too soon. Each slow thrust pushed your hips forward, emphasizing the perfect arch of your back. Your eyebrows were furrowed slightly, but he could still hear your moans from behind the pillow you were clutching. That didn’t last long as your boyfriend laced a hand into your hair, pulling your head back just enough to uncover your mouth. “Don’t hide those pretty sounds, babe. We wanna hear ‘em.” 

Eddie. His best friend, his brother, his mentor, his frontman, his dungeon master. He had never thought of Eddie like this. He had never seen Eddie like this. His frizzy curls falling out of the messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, tattoos on display, muscles in his arm flexing as he gripped your hair. Sure, he’d always thought he was a pretty good-looking guy, but now Gareth was beginning to wonder how he hadn’t thought about this before.

And the two of you together? Christ, you were a work of art. He wanted to frame this moment– capture it, bottle it, sear it into his brain so he’d remember every detail exactly as it was. The way the flesh of your thighs trembled with every movement, how Eddie’s sweat mixed with yours to make your skin glisten in the dim glow of the lamps, all of it made his body burn with need. Then Eddie was speaking again.

“God, you always feel so fucking good. My girl, made just f’me, huh?”

“Yes, Daddy,” You breathed out with a whimper. “Fuck, you’re s’deep.”

“I know, baby. I know,” He cooed sympathetically. “You c’n take it, though. Always do, don’t you?”

Gareth could see how your wetness further matted the dark hair around the base of Eddie’s length with every thrust, how the slick was just beginning to reach your thighs. Each moan you let out was more broken and drawn out than the last. That was until Eddie’s hand settled around your throat, urging you to lean back into him once more, and your moans turned to shaky, gasping whines. The ringed fingers of his other hand squeezed at your breast before mapping a path directly to your clit, circling it with practiced precision. With the way your stomach trembled in response, the boy didn’t think you’d last much longer. 

He almost thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud when Eddie asked, “Aw, you gettin’ close already? C’n feel it, baby. Having an audience really working you up that much?” He grasped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Knew you were my little freak, sweetheart, but c’mon. You’re just as dirty as me and Gare.” Gareth himself felt guilty with how your face crumpled in shame, but Eddie only smirked as he kissed your temple and inched his hand lower to squeeze at the sides of your throat. “It’s okay, baby. You’re bein’ such a good girl for Daddy. So, so good f’me. Just need you to come for me now.”

Red lines and crescent-shaped indents littered his arms as you uselessly pleaded for exactly what he was already giving you. Your head fell to the side only for you to lock eyes with Gareth, though he didn’t seem to be in much better shape than you were. The pale sliver of his chest that was visible had turned the same vibrant red his cheeks had been all night. His hand, fisted tightly around his cock, was moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts as arousal all but dripped over his knuckles. The sight ripped another shuddering moan from you.

Darkness encroached on the edges of your vision as Eddie finally felt your walls spasm around him. Your nails bit into his skin so hard it nearly broke, but it only encouraged him to hold you tighter as you tensed in his arms. “Fuck yes, there it is. Feel so fuckin’ good when you’re comin’ around me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” You cried, “Please. Come inside me, I need it.” 

Though he tried to hold it back, a ragged groan tore itself from Gareth’s throat. Spurts of come stained his shirt as he fought to keep his eyes on the scene before him, but he couldn’t help but let his head fall back against the seat. He’d never felt so good. His veins were thrumming with weed and whiskey, so much so that the room still spun when he closed his eyes. But the pleasure still throbbing dully through his body like an ache wasn’t from the booze or the joints. 

The blurriness cleared from his vision just in time to watch Eddie pull you in for a messy, desperate kiss. One hand cradled your jaw while the other clutched at your hip, pressing himself as deep inside of you as possible as he came. 

Quiet sighs and pants filled the room as the three of you collectively caught your breath. Gareth just watched as you both melted into one another. Eddie’s palms soothed over every inch of your skin he could reach, and he whispered one last crazy idea in your ear– one that was somehow even crazier than the idea that had brought you all to this moment. Though the suggestion made your eyes widen and your stomach tie itself in a knot, the way you clenched around him in response compelled you to agree.

Carefully pulling out he planted one last kiss on your shoulder, allowing you to lay back against the pillows as he fixed his sweats and turned to his friend who still seemed to be recovering. “How ‘bout you come ‘n help me clean her up, Gare?” 

The boy froze in his seat, length twitching where he’d tucked himself back into his unzipped jeans. “W-What?”

“Before I change my mind,” Eddie singsonged simply in return.

Limbs weak, he quickly stood from the desk chair, sending it knocking back into the desk. Hesitantly, his knee met the edge of the mattress and he looked between the two of you for reassurance.

“It’s okay, Gareth,” You murmured softly. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Did so good for us,” Eddie cooed in agreement. He stared as his drummer slowly knelt between his girlfriend’s spread thighs, fingers winding into the boy’s hair encouragingly. “Thought you deserved a little treat.”

Gareth’s heavy eyes fell shut when he finally had the taste of you– of both of you– on his tongue, lapping up your shared mess before sinking inside. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips and thighs as he mouthed urgently at your wetness. “Tastes so good,” He panted into your skin.

“What does?” Your boyfriend asked, giving his unruly locks a little tug. “Her come, or mine?”

He only moaned in answer, tongue laving over your abused clit.

It felt wrong, looking down and seeing someone else’s head between your legs, but it only made that coil in your stomach grow even tighter. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Ah, ah, don’t be rude, baby. It’s not me this time. Let ‘im hear you say his name.”

A humiliated whine escaped you, as though admitting it aloud was more shameful than inviting him to do it in the first place. “Gareth,” You finally moaned out pitifully, your hand winding into his hair alongside Eddie’s. “You’re gonna make me come again.”

“Oh, he’d be fucking honored, babe,” Eddie chuckled smugly. Leaning over you, he left a slow, deep kiss on your lips before dipping lower to your breasts. His tongue teased at your nipple before his lips wrapped around it completely, calloused fingers finding the other. He only pulled back briefly to murmur, “Go on, sweetheart. Come for us.”

The feeling of two mouths, two sets of wandering hands, was overwhelming. Your thighs closed around Gareth’s head as your hands wound into both his hair and Eddie’s. He could feel your walls clench and your clit throb against his tongue and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He would’ve happily stayed there forever, drunkenly licking up every drop of tangy arousal that you released, but as your muscles began to twitch, Eddie gave one final pull to his hair that let him know his fun was over.

For a moment, it was quiet save for the low, bassy thrum of the music still playing. Then Eddie was up, grabbing a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats and pressing them against Gareth’s chest for him to take. “You did good, Gare. Real good, alright?” He rubbed a hand over the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “Go ahead to the bathroom ‘n get cleaned up, ‘kay? We’ll get you settled in for the night.” Cheeks warm from the praise, Gareth just nodded, heading for the hallway while you and Eddie finally got a second alone. Gazing down at you, he brushed your hair back from your face, trying to read every facet of your expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t push you too hard, did I? That wasn’t too much?”

“No, Eds, I’m okay. I liked it, it was good.” You nodded reassuringly. Still, he raised an eyebrow questioningly, holding out his pinkie which you locked yours with. “Promise,” You whispered. “Are you sure Gareth’s okay, though? Things won’t be weird with him from now on?”

“No, baby, I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.” He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and grabbed you a bottle of water from the nightstand. “‘M gonna go make him a bed on the couch, alright? I’ll be right back.” You pouted out your lips for one last peck but let him go out to the living room while you gingerly got up to put clothes on.

Eddie was spreading a blanket over the couch when Gareth finally came out of the bathroom. On the table beside him sat a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and a couple of Tylenol. Sitting down, he patted the space to his left and asked, “You okay? I should’a talked to you both more before I dove into all that, I’m sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize–” He took a much-needed drink of water and shook his head. “Trust me, I-I had…I had a great time. And I won’t make things weird, or like– tell anybody, I swear. I’m sure it’ll all be fuzzy in the morning anyway. Did you guys…?” 

“We had fun, man, don’t sweat it.”

“Oh, we definitely had fun,” You agreed as you joined them. You settled on Gareth’s other side, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Thanks for being so cool about everything, I don’t think we could’ve trusted the other guys with something like this.”

“Well, thank you for trusting me,” He answered gratefully. 

“My right-hand man,” Eddie reminded him as he stood, clapping a hand over his shoulder. 

You playfully rolled your eyes at the sentiment, but kept a good-natured smile as you leaned over to peck the boy’s cheek. “Get some sleep, alright? Sweet dreams, Gare.”

As if anything could be sweeter than the taste of the two of you still lingering on his tongue when he closed his eyes and drifted off.

part two

<3

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[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 4

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3

TW: one instance of homophobic language (internally), fear of violence due to homophobia (which doesn't occur).

Chrissy would have never expected Steve Harrington to be full of such soft, gooey feelings, but with every letter she helps him right, he only gets sappier. The latest is so sticky with sap she’s afraid it’ll stick to her fingers.

Part of her, the smallest, niggling part, wishes Steve really was her boyfriend, and all those little niceties could be for her. But, that wouldn’t be fair to Steve, anyway. There’s nothing there; he’s just Steve—the platonic ideal of a best friend.

So, she wears his last name on her back, helps him write his little notes, and hopes ardently that she’ll find someone she cares that much about for herself.

“What are you doing?”

Chrissy’s fingers stumble at the unexpected voice, Steve’s latest letter fluttering to the dirty ground. Someone else beats her to picking it up. She watches, mouth in her throat, as one of Eddie’s friends unfolds the note. He squints down at it, eyebrows raising higher and higher until they’re almost meeting his hairline by the time he reaches the sign-off.

He folds it up carefully before handing it back to her. She clutches it to her chest, but the damage has already been done.

“Aren’t you dating Harrington?” Jeff asks.

Chrissy stumbles over her words, only getting out an, “it’s not like—” and a “I wouldn’t do—” before sputtering into silence.

They stand there, staring at each other for an endless moment, neither speaking, before Chrissy finally spins around, shoves the note into Eddie’s locker, and flees as fast as her tired legs can carry her.

He doesn’t follow.

Practice had run long, and she’d just wanted to leave the note and get home. Now, home is less of a relief and more somewhere that she can stew in the repercussions of what she’s done. Jeff’s Eddie’s friend, he’ll tell him without hesitation, and where will that leave her and Steve?

With that in mind, she goes looking for Jeff bright and early the next day, hoping boys’ propensity for not talking on the phone means that they’ve yet to speak.

“Did you tell him?” she asks when she finds Jeff spinning the dial on what must be his own locker.

Seeming entirely unbothered even as everyone around them stares, Jeff continues unlocking his locker at a leisurely pace. Only once he’s pulled the lock down and swung his locker open does he turn to meet her eyes.

“You mean, did I tell my best friend that Chrissy Cunningham has been writing him love notes?” Jeff asks. Chrissy shifts her eyes around, relieved that no one’s close enough to hear Jeff’s quiet voice.

Chrissy nods, something weighty sinking into her stomach the longer he goes without responding.

He turns back to his locker with a huff to dig around on the top shelf. “No,” he says, but before the relief can hit her, he continues, “I don’t want you to hurt him, and I think you will.”

“It’s not—I don’t—“ she stumbles in an embarrassing reenactment of last night. When he turns back to her with that same judgmental look, she shores herself up, clears her throat, and finally eeks out a full sentence. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Jeff’s expression doesn’t change as he asks, “so, what? You’re going to leave Harrington for him?”

Her silence must speak volumes because he slams his locker shut, and turns to walk away, calling, “that’s what I thought” over his shoulder.

She stands, transfixed, as he walks away.

His dismissal niggles at her, until she finds herself seeking him out again before the end of the day. He’s walking out of the bathroom, still shaking his hands dry as she rushes up to him, matching his stride down the hallway step for step.

“I’m not dating Steve,” she says.

It’s the first time she’s said it aloud, none of her friends close enough to confide in. But, here she is, telling the best friend of one half of the reason her and Steve are even doing this, entirely unprompted.

Jeff looks at her sidelong. “Did you tell the rest of the school that?”

Chrissy sweeps her ponytail over her shoulder as she rolls her eyes. She’d never told anyone her and Steve were dating. All it’d taken was her wearing his letterman, and that confrontation with Jason, and everyone had been convinced, no lying necessary.

“It doesn’t matter to me what they all think.”

It does, but she’s been spending too much time with Steve, and his aloof indifference to his image has been rubbing off. She’s glad.

“But you’re telling me, because what?” he asks, still skeptical. “You have a big crush on my best friend?”

He throws finger quotations around the word crush that would be insulting if he wasn’t right. She does like Eddie. He’s weird, but nice unless provoked. But the thought of kissing his dry lips makes her nose wrinkle.

“It’s not like that,” she says again.

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

He walks into his next class without another word. Chrissy continues down the hall, barely making it in time for her own.

It doesn’t get better.

Jeff’s dislike, visible in his eyes anytime they cross paths, cuts at her. She finds herself seeking him out, explaining again and again, or trying to without saying anything at all.

“It’s really not like that!” she says, finally frustrated enough to raise her voice. “Steve’s handwriting is atrocious so I was just—”

She cuts herself off, hands slamming over her mouth as she realizes what she’s said. It’s just, Jeff was making that face she hates again, that one with the raised brows and judgmental smirk, and she’d gotten mad.

“Steve’s handwriting…” Jeff murmurs quietly, eyebrows now lowered and furrowed in thought.

She might’ve been able to play it off. But the silence has lingered too long, and Chrissy’s never had much of a poker face. She knows the guilt and panic in her expression is damning; she still can’t seem to wipe it off her face.

“The notes…” Jeff starts, trailing off like he can’t bear to say it, “are from Steve?”

Chrissy clenches her hand tighter across her mouth like she can somehow retroactively shove her words back into her throat, stop Jeff from having the realization that might get Steve–who’s quickly becoming her best friend–killed. But, he keeps just looking at her. So, she nods, movements jerky and scared.

“Shit,” Jeff says, finally breaking eye contact to bend over and squeeze the bridge of his nose. “That explains so much.”

Unable to stop herself, Chrissy bursts into tears.

***

Eddie heads to his locker first thing in the morning. He’s been buzzing since he dropped off the last letter, hoping against hope that she’d check there again. And there, like an answer to his prayers, is an envelope resting atop his neglected Biology textbook.

Eddie’s ready to become a believer if all his hopes and dreams keep coming true. He’ll drop down on his knees and repent for all his sins if it means these letters keep coming. In fact, he’ll do it here and now, envelope clutched between sweaty palms as his knees smack into the unforgiving floor of the hallway. All the peons around him give him a wide berth as he smacks his palms together and sends up a prayer like he’s seen people do on TV.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jeff asks, squinting down at him like this is the weirdest thing he’s ever caught Eddie doing.

“Nothing!” Eddie replies, resisting the urge to shove the letter into his mouth. He hasn’t even got to read it yet, no way is he squandering this opportunity just because Jeff’s butting his nosy little nose into his business.

But when Eddie meets Jeff’s eyes, he looks so squinty and weird, and un-Jeff-like, that Eddie’s almost worried. He stands, bruised knees aching as he shoves the envelope—gently!—into the deep pocket of his jeans. Jeff watches the paper until it’s entirely out of sight.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, hand reaching out to cup Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff shakes his head like a dog after a bath, finally looking away from the ass of Eddie’s jeans. “What?” he asks, before shaking his head again, and it must help shake a thought loose because the next thing he says is, “I’m fine.”

Eddie keeps his eyes fixed on Jeff, wondering if it’ll be enough to break him, but all Jeff does is clench his jaw and straighten his shoulders, a warrior ready for battle.

“All right,” Eddie says, reaching his finger out to boop Jeff’s nose in that way he hates. “Keep your secrets.”

Then, he turns and walks away. He smiles as Jeff sputters behind him, calling out, “I don’t have any secrets!” just as Eddie pushes into the bathroom.

There’s a few freshmen in there, but they scatter as Eddie enters. Even still, Eddie rushes into one of the stalls and locks it behind himself. This is about as far as a lit candle and mood lighting as one can get—Eddie smells the hints of the shit the last guy in here must have taken and the fluorescents are bright enough to drill a headache into his skull—but Eddie can’t wait any longer.

He tears into the envelope, as gently as he can with impatient, shaking fingers.

  Eddie —

  I know you don’t like them, but I like sports. There’s something about depending on your body to get you through a hard work-out, you know? But, I don’t know if it’s my thing, like Dungeons and Dragons and music are yours. Maybe I don’t have a thing. Is that weird?

  My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors. I’d love to see you in such a bright color one day, even if I do love all the black and red. It suits you.

  I’ve never dreamt much, but when they’re good, they’re usually about you, so your hopes just might come true.

  I know your handwriting, and what you yell about for the world to hear, but I don’t know as much as I’d like. I want to know everything about you. What’s your favorite color? Do you have happy dreams?

  Yours, Always

  Your Secret Admirer

  P.S. Maybe put it in Romeo and Juliet this time, the edition with the tear in the cover.

Here, tucked away in this shitty bathroom in this shitty school, Eddie Munson smiles. He’s got another note to write, and another book in the library to find.

*** 

“I have some bad news.”

Steve’s barely stepped out of his car before Chrissy’s ambushing him. He takes a startled step back into the beemer, as he meets her gaze.

Chrissy’s wringing her hands together, anxiety wafting off her. Just behind her shoulder, a guy Steve only recognizes as one of Eddie’s friends is stoutly avoiding his eyes. Whatever this is, it’s got Steve’s gut sinking into his socks.

“What happened?” Steve asks hesitantly.

His mind’s ticking away, and coming up with all the worst case scenarios. Eddie’s in trouble, or hurt, or worse. What else could bring these two together?

“Jeff knows about the letters!” Chrissy cries, words all jumbled together in her rush to get them out.

Steve takes a step back, pressing his spine uncomfortably into the metal roof of his car, instinct against an unknown threat.  No one steps after him. It’s hard to take his eyes off Jeff and Chrissy, but he does. The parking lot’s crowded with warm bodies pushing between cars, desperate to make it to class on time.

Just moments ago, Steve was one of them.

“You told him?” Steve asks, eyes locked on Chrissy.

For her part, Chrissy’s eyes look big and shiny as she nods. She takes a step forward, and it takes everything in him not to step back. It’s just—he’d thought they were friends.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, tears finally pouring out of her eyes.

Steve watches, stagnant, as the person he was starting to consider his best friend, cries. He wants to hug her, wants to scream at her, wants to run the hell out of here to lick his wounds in peace. But, Jeff takes a step forward, scowl on his face, and Steve takes two hasty steps back, tumbling painfully through his open driver’s side door and sprawling uncomfortably on his stick shift.

The few students nearby turn to look at him, saying snide comments to one another, barely polite enough to talk in whispers. He hardly notices, eyes locked on the main threat. Jeff’s face softens as he stops his forward momentum, foot still raised in the air for a step he doesn’t take. No one moves until everyone stops watching the spectacle and begins walking away.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the stand-off, voice quieter and gentler than he’d expected. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.”

Steve stares him down, still sprawled uncomfortably in his car. He’s right, but a small voice in the back of Steve’s head is wondering if they should do this at all. He wants to cut his losses and run. But, Chrissy’s still crying, and if his secret is going to be spread around the school, he’d rather have a head start out of town.

He crawls out of his seat, limbs feeling more ungainly and awkward than they have since he was prepubescent. It feels like every eye in town turns toward him as the sound of his closing car door echoes through the rapidly emptying parking lot.

“Follow me,” he says.

Turning his back on them feels like a show of trust he can’t afford, but he’s not following either of them off school grounds. The football field will be empty at this time on a Friday, especially with the rain coming down.

None of them are wearing coats, so he leads them beneath the bleachers. The rain still drips between the rafters, but there are a few dry spots big enough to stand in.

“Make-out spot, Harrington?” Jeff asks, mouth quirked up as he leans against one of the metal support beams despite it being wet and cold.

Steve’s intestines squirm around in his stomach at the way Jeff and Chrissy stay standing next to each other, a united front against Steve.

“It’s not like it’s Skull Rock,” Steve says, proud that his voice doesn’t shake. “Now, say what you want to say so I can go home.”

“There’s still school,” Chrissy hiccups out, as if he cares at all about that right now.

Jeff straightens, small smile dropping off his face as he eyes Steve. Chrissy’s face is wet. Steve’s just glad he can no longer tell what’s raindrops and what’s tears.

“I was being a dick to her,” Jeff says.

“No, you were—” Chrissy starts before Jeff talks right over her.

“All she said was that your handwriting was bad, and I put the rest together.”

A small part of Steve is soothed that Chrissy hadn’t told him on purpose. Accidents happen, he can understand that. But—

“Eddie told you about the letters?” Steve asks. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, Jeff and Eddie are always occupying the same spaces. They must be close.

Jeff shakes his head, but it’s Chrissy that speaks first, “he saw me putting one in Eddie’s locker.”

“Oh,” Steve says, slumping into himself.

They’re both staring at him now.

Steve’s never been good with silences. When his parents are gone, he leaves the TV on in the living room all hours of the day. At school, he surrounds himself with warm bodies, all making noise. In his car, there’s always a tape playing in his deck.

“So, should I start fleeing town?” Steve asks, trying for a joking tone, but his voice cracks tellingly on the last word.

“No!” Chrissy cries.

She rushes forward, wrapping the entirety of her small body around his like she can shelter him from any harms that might come for him. Steve stumbles back, barely stabilizing before they both go tumbling into the dirt.

He wraps his arms hesitantly around her, patting her back awkwardly as she undoubtedly cries into his shoulder. She’s short enough that he can put his chin on her head, so he does. She feels right in his arms—good and warm.

Why couldn’t he like her instead?

“It’s okay, Chris,” he says, but she’s too short to hide in, and he’s got a perfect view of Jeff, still in his original spot. “It’ll be okay.”

It feels like a lie when it comes out of his mouth. He meets Jeff’s eyes, surprised when he finds them warm.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Jeff says.

It’s only then that Steve realizes how haggard his breathing had become, like he’d been running suicide’s in the gym, not standing stationary fighting the fears of his own mind.

He sucks in an unencumbered breath, the stone constricting his lungs ground down to almost nothing. Steve nods, arms still wrapped around Chrissy like she might be ripped away from him. He couldn’t have expected anything better, not in Hawkins. Except, what’s the likelihood he gets this lucky again?

He’s two for two with good reactions, what’s the likelihood the third won’t play a nice game of smear the queer?

Except, this is one of Eddie’s best friends, and does “anyone” even include him?

“Even Eddie?” Steve asks, that same damning quiver back in his voice.

Jeff shakes his head, and before Steve can begin to panic, Jeff speaks, “I think you should tell him, but it’s your secret man.”

Steve tries to find any sign of a lie on Jeff’s face. The other boy just looks placidly back, waiting his scrutiny out.

“Thank you,” Chrissy and Steve say at the same time.

They collapse into each other, giggling like fools as the adrenaline leaves them both. Behind them, Jeff’s smiling like he finds this whole thing charming.

Three might be a crowd, but Steve’s never liked being alone. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

PART 5

[printzeizarra]

Cherry doesn't appreciate Ford's jabs at gnome culture.

I'd been working on another drawing, but it wasn't panning out, so I pivoted and somehow this happened instead...

[finelinevogue]

baby fever

summary - it’s wembley night one and you are really warm and pregnant

word count: ~1k

pairing: husband!harry x pregnant!reader

a/n: you can count on an anxious ellie the night before her harry concert to pull through with a blurb

Backstage was chaos.

A good chaos though. The night of a show is always so hectic backstage. A good buzz of people rushing for final checks and enjoying a drink in efforts of their hard work putting the show together.

Mitch was tending to Sarah and their baby.

Madi was vocally preparing for her big moment.

Jeff was here, on the phone as always.

Harry was nowhere to be seen.

And you. Well you couldn’t move far with the size of your baby bump anymore.

Not only was the baby bump heavy to carry, but also made your body ten times warmer than normal. In this heat too, it was not a fun experience.

If you knew where Harry was right now you’d thump him on the head for knocking you up. How dare he.

This was all jokes though and you actually have thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant. Getting tended to and loved on a little extra from Harry made everything worth it. It was no lie that you and Harry were excited. You just had to make it through these tough days first.

Harry had left you in his dressing room, surrounded by fans to help cool you down.

However, he’s been gone for an hour now and the fans aren’t doing anything to help your body temperature cool. Being pregnant in this heat is disgusting.

So, after a good ten minutes manoeuvring, you moved to the bathroom instead, where the tiles were cold.

Now you’re laying on your back, like a starfish, as you attempt to cool yourself down better with the cold tiles.

You’d think this stadium would have air-con…

The tiles weren’t really working either, but they were better than the fans.

“Babe?!” Harry called out from the dressing room, most likely worried for your whereabouts.

He walked in the bathroom moments later, his panicked face slowly disappearing after finding you. He leant against the doorframe on one arm and crossed his legs over as he stood smiling over you.

“Don’t laugh.” You said, eyes closed to try and focus on coming your body down.

Your eyes closed meant that you missed Harry taking a quick photo of you to add to his pregnancy photo album of you.

“I’m not.” He replied.

“You’re definitely smiling. I can feel it.” You said and Harry laughed at that, making his tiny giggle that had your insides fluttering.

“Shut up you.” Harry giggled. “Are you okay down there, baby?” He asked to make sure.

Next thing you know, before you’ve even replied, Harry is knelt down next to you in his shorts and tshirt. One of his hands rests on your belly, whilst your other goes to brush over your forehead.

“Don’t touch me.” You said, eyes still closed to the world.

“That’s something I don’t hear very often.”

“Yeah and it’s also the reason I’m in this predicament right now.”

Harry can sense you rolling your eyes even with them shut.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Control the weather better next time.” You replied, making him laugh again.

“Do you want to move or get some water?”

“No and no.”

“Please? At least some water? For me?” He persisted and even though you really didn’t want to move, you knew he was right in making you have some water.

Harry doesn’t really give you the option and instead moves to fetch a water bottle for you.

When he brings it back, you sit up a little with the help of Harry. Harry tilts the bottle for you, as you hold you body up by your hands.

Once you’ve done, Harry sits his back against the wall and motions for you to sit on the opposite side. He would really love for you to be cuddled up against him right now, but he knows that wouldn’t be the best idea for you or your baby.

Now he can see your eyes, he is much happier. Your eyes show him that you’re still happy, regardless of this horrible weather. That sparkle in your eyes is there because of him.

“Thank you.” You tell him, for the water. “Feel like a sausage on a barbecue.”

“A sexy sausage.”

You huff out a chuckle, “I’m too exhausted to even be grossed out by that.”

“Well that just confirms that you’re not 100% yourself, lovie.” Harry laughed.

“I apologise in advance if I can’t make it out for your set, H.” You pout and Harry shakes his head at you.

“Absolutely not. No apologies. I want you and baby safe, okay? You go at your own pace.”

“Might make it in time just to go crazy at Kiwi.”

“So, you mean just nodding your head?” Harry teased you because he knows you really can’t move very much with the big baby bump.

“Maybe even tap my foot.” You carried on the joke.

“Oh jheez babe. Don’t overdo it.”

You smile and Harry copies you.

“I love you. I’m so fucking proud of you.” You tell him.

“It’s funny how I’m about to play a sold out stadium and yet I’m more proud of myself for finding you and becoming a parent with you.”

You hum in delight over his words.

Harry chuckled, moving forward to bend and kiss your bump gently, “I love you baby.” He says as he leans up and finds your lips next, “And I guess you’re okay too.”

[kennahjune]

Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: After a beer pong challenge gone horribly wrong (or right, if you're Gareth), Eddie has to shave his head. As much as you'll miss his signature curls, you have to admit that his new look isn't all that bad...

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), drinking, beefy!Eddie, mention of Eddie's weight gain, Eddie + Reader are both 25, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v

Based on a request by @josephquinnsfreckles and a conversation with @blueywrites about the lengths we'd go to for beefy!Eddie.

Divider credit to @saradika

It was all Gareth’s idea. 

Gareth had been the one to crack open a Pabst can and make a snarky remark about knowing he could beat Eddie in beer pong. 

Had been the one to say that Eddie had gotten soft in the five years since graduation, to which Eddie winked at you and replied, “I think my girl would say the opposite.” 

Had been the one to up the ante with a “little bet.”

You shot Eddie a warning look that he ignored, opting instead to meet Gareth’s challenge. “Fine. When I win, you gotta let me pierce your eyebrow.”

“Okay,” Gareth rolled his eyes, “but when I win, you have to shave your head.”

At the same time as you blurted out, “absolutely not,” Eddie grinned and said, “you’re on.”

Jeff laughed from his spot on the couch. “Thank God. You’ve had the same haircut since, what? Ninth grade?”

“Eddie,” you hissed, pulling him over to the side. “You can’t get rid of your hair.”

Your boyfriend had shrugged nonchalantly as though the state of his beautiful brown curls didn’t depend on a drinking game. “Relax, babe.” He pulled you into his side. “He’s never beaten me in beer pong. None of these losers have.”

That’s why you now find yourself stationed outside of the bathroom in Grant’s apartment, too afraid to glimpse at the commotion inside. The sound of the electric buzzer was bad enough. 

The guys are all blissfully oblivious to your turmoil; even Eddie is cackling and asking Gareth to give him a mohawk. You can only assume that he obliged once you hear the four men erupt into a round of raucous laughter. 

“Last piece,” Gareth goads, a muffled zzzzzz coming from the buzzer as he presses it into Eddie’s scalp. “Aaaaand…done!”

Done. 

All of Eddie’s hair now lay on the tile floor, because he lost a bet to Gareth Emerson.  

The hair that he pulled back into a low bun before working on his motorcycle. The hair that you twirled around your forefinger whenever he kissed you. The hair that you loved weaving your fingers into as he kneeled before you, leaving teasing kisses along your inner thighs before devouring you.

If you had known he would be bald at the end of the night, you would’ve begged to let his hair tickle between your legs once more. 

“Whaddya think, babe?” Eddie peeks around the corner. His eyes, hazy from a night of drinking, stare into yours. Even drunk, he still seeks out your approval. 

Too bad you’re speechless. 

You’ve become accustomed to Eddie’s various metamorphoses. When you first met Eddie, he was lanky, only relying on assorted snacks and copious amounts of Mountain Dew. It was how he’d survived all of those years of food insecurity. And while you loved his body then, nothing could have prepared you for how he looked just two short years later. 

His biceps now hold muscle and softness; you often find yourself unable to risk the temptation of biting into them. His stomach has also acquired a slight heft, a pleasant side effect from eating three square meals a day. His jeans now cling to the curve of his ass and no longer require a belt. 

But his hair? That had always stayed the same:curls that frizzed at the first sign of humidity, worn like a badge of honor. You couldn’t picture him without it. 

If you had, there’s no way you could have imagined him looking so damn sexy. 

Eddie laughs at your shell-shocked expression, your widened eyes and dropped jaw. “That bad, Sweetheart?”

“No…’s good. Really, um, good.” Your throat is suddenly dry, and you swallow just so you don’t cough. “Can I feel it?”

He nods, and you brush your fingers over his bare scalp. Your touch is met with a soft fuzziness that was never there before. 

Long-haired Eddie looked wild and chaotic, a Tasmanian Devil of a man. But buzzed-haired Eddie looks tough. Strong. Like he’ll destroy any other man who dares look at you. 

And it makes you absolutely primal. 

“I think we broke her,” Grant whispers loudly, and the rest of the room breaks out into tipsy giggles, slapping at each other and stumbling back into the kitchen for more ill-advised drinking.

Eddie frowns, not able to read your expression. “It’ll grow back,” he says, one ringed hand rubbing your back. He lets his fingers linger on the curve of your ass and gives it an inconspicuous pinch.

“C’mere.” You take advantage of the guys’ distractedness and pull Eddie into the nearest bedroom. The moment the door shuts and the lock clicks, you’re pressing your lips to his. On instinct, his denim-clad leg slots between yours, creating a hint of friction against the seam of your own jeans.  

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His words are muffled by the barrage of kisses. “Can’t just clobber me like this; gonna get me all worked up.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” You drag your forefinger up his fly, relishing in the way his cock is already beginning to harden. 

Eddie practically throws you onto the bed, his biceps flexing with the sudden movement. “Gotta make this quick, yeah? Don’t want those idiots interrupting us.” With that, he tugs your pants away from your body, practically tearing off your cotton panties along with it. 

“Oh, honey,” he coos, dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed and throwing his head back. “You’re already soaked.” He smirks before nipping at the soft flesh of your thighs, alternating between kisses and bites. “All this from a little haircut?”

All you can do is nod, leaning back so he can wrap his arms around your upper legs and fully bury his face into your weeping cunt. “Mmph,” he moans against you. You reflexively reach down to grab onto his locks, stopping when you’re met with his newly buzzed hair. Instead, you pull him in closer until his nose nudges your clit. 

You say his name on an exhale, your pussy clenching around nothing as his pointer and middle fingers part your folds. You’re spread open for him, a blank canvas for him to create art. “Inside. Please.”

He might be inclined to make you beg further, but the threat of his buddies banging on the door has him relenting quickly.     

Eddie’s grip on you tightens and his fingernails leave crescent-shaped divots. A breath catches in your lungs, your mind blanking when he greedily laps up your arousal and plunges his tongue into your hole. 

His groans vibrate against you. “So much easier without my hair in the way.” He pulls back to catch his breath, his chin already shining. Brown doe eyes peer up at you, once again waiting for you to approve. 

“K-Keep going,” you mumble, only acutely aware of the party occurring in the adjacent room. “Need you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t want my sweet girl hurting.” The pad of Eddie’s thumb makes small, concentric circles on your clit, making your whole lower body tense up in anticipation of your orgasm. “There we go. No need to pout.”

Your back arches when he dives back in. He maintains his rhythm, inhaling deeply when the bulb of his nose brushes against that sweet spot. Pleasure is right within your reach, your hips moving in tandem with his ministrations to chase that glorious high. 

It isn’t as though Eddie has ever been bad at oral; you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come on his tongue. But now that he doesn’t have to constantly shake his hair from his eyes—now that he has an unobstructed view of just where to touch you—he hits each stroke with perfect precision. 

“Eddie—holy sh-shit, Eddie—right there right there right fucking there!” Your release crashes over you faster than it ever has before. It’s as though Eddie has transported you to another planet, another galaxy, another universe, and you will yourself to float back down just to reciprocate the pleasure he’s given you. 

His pants button is already undone, hidden behind an oversized Metallica t-shirt, your fingers finding the hint of pudge on his lower tummy. “One of my old pairs,” he says sheepishly. 

They’re gone in a flash, along with his pre-cum stained boxers. He climbs on top of you, hard cock in his fist, and runs it through the mixture of saliva and arousal at your core. 

“‘M not gonna last long,” Eddie murmurs, locking his gaze with yours. He’s not embarrassed; he’s proud that he can bring himself to the edge just by eating out his girl. 

You can’t stop the scream that emanates from your throat when he pushes inside you, but you also can’t be bothered to care about anyone else hearing. All of your thoughts center around Eddie filling you wholly and the sacrifices you’d make to keep him inside you forever. 

He punctuates each thrust with an animalistic grunt, taking as much as he can with every snap of his hips. “My…good…girl,” he pants. “My…good…fuckin’…girl.”

“All yours. All yours, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes roll back as you submit yourself to him. “Gonna come. Gonna come inside you, fuck, Sweetheart!” With one final movement, he spills into you. 

You cry out his name once more, letting your hand fall to the small love handle just above his hip bone. Another one of your favorite places to bite, especially when you could sneak up on him and catch him off-guard. 

He flops down, his fuzzy head tickling your jaw as he nuzzles into your neck. “The buzzcut really does it for ya, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

[rainrot4me]

TW: Fingering, vaginal, desperation

𐚁₊⊹

To Jeff, sex is very impersonal.

Whichever victim he could snag for the night and drag into some dark alley was unlucky enough to deal with his pent up anger. Face shoved into the bricks as he handled devastating back-shots, loud skin slapping, terribly painful and careless, ignoring any plea to go slower. You could forget aftercare, let alone even cumming.

Sex was just some way for him to blow off steam. Until you confessed to him, anyways.

Jeff was so taken aback by your bright eyes and cute smile he couldn’t help himself but be soft.

It was new to him, of course, but the pale killer forced his hands to slow, forced his fingers to slowly curl up into your cunt and stretch you open so it would be easier to handle him. He fell apart to your noises, the little whimpers and gasps that gave him chills as he slowly slid in, his cock sinking into your warmth and gripping him so wonderfully.

Jeff loved the way you wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your heels into the little dimples in his lower back and pushing him closer. For the first time, he wasn’t gritting his teeth, wasn’t desperate to get it over with, but relishing in every twitch and roll of your body.

“Feel good, baby? Wanna go faster…” He’d gasp, rough lips pressed to your skin as he panted, holding you close. He loved when you talked, when you weren’t afraid to moan as he rolled his hips painfully slow, making sure to press as deep as he could. You just felt so good, so warm and wet and tight. He wanted to make you feel good, wanted more than to just screw and leave, he wanted to fuck you.

With you, he couldn’t help but feel personal.

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 — uniform

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: ex-cheerleader!reader. handjob. penetrative sex. semi-public sex.

It was always the skirts that did it for him.

Not the ponytails, not the sparkly pom poms, not even the acrobatics. It was the small skirts that had his eyes wandering, following long legs and pretty thighs along the hallways of his former high school. His friends used to make fun of him, tell him how stupid he looked pining over the cheerleaders who would never even look his way.

Eddie used to tell them he wasn't pining, he was merely just… looking, for lack of a better word. He wasn't thinking about them, the little skirts in green and yellow swishing around soft looking thighs, when he was alone later, under the shower. Of course not.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he saw you — his favorite customer, wearing a red, white and black cheerleader uniform. You were in the corner of the room, chatting with your local college friends, sipping on a plastic cup. Hair in a high ponytail tied with a neat red bow, as red as the fake blood sprinkled on your body.

He might have choked a little on his beer, but he didn't pay much attention to it, concentrating it all on you. Not until Jeff elbows him on the ribs, scoffing at his friend. "Man, you're gonna catch flies with that mouth hanging open."

"Shut up." Eddie grumbled, looking away from you and back at his friends. "Do you think she saw?"

"You're not exactly subtle, Ed." Gareth points out. The younger boy turned to your group of friends and waved, and as Eddie did the same, he noticed you waving back.

Burying the urge to smother Gareth in his sleep, he managed a rather strained smile, and a three finger wave in your direction. He saw you hide your giggle behind your hand, and all of his worries faded away for a second. It must have been your pretty smile, barely concealed by a delicate hand, or the mixture of glitter and fake blood on your skin, making you glint in the dark. Either way, he decided that he didn't want to look away, not really.

As his friends engaged back in conversation with each other, and your friends remained entertained with whatever was the subject between them, your eyes met yet again. You gave him a discreet nod of your head, pointing to the glass doors that led to the backyard of the house. Eddie nodded back, and waited for you to go first before following you closely.

Eddie had met you when he decided to expand his side business after he graduated. No longer wanting to associate with the high school kids, no matter how well some of them would pay him with their daddy's money, he went for the college students next. Lingering around their parties, taking a stroll through the campus with his ever trusty lunchbox on days off of work.

It was on one of these strolls that he met you — clumsily sitting in front of him at a picnic table that resembled his old selling spot, dropping your bag on the table and asking him for a rolled joint because you were terrible at rolling, and you'd even pay extra if needed.

He decided that, from that moment on, you wouldn't have to roll your own joints ever again.

There was just something about you, something that Eddie couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was how comfortable you made him feel, how easy the conversation flowed between you. How you would always rant about your day or infodump on the latest subject that caught your interest in class, or the last book you were reading. It was like you didn't mind that Eddie was virtually a stranger, you just accepted him in your life with open arms, and he did the same.

You started walking a thin line between merely a business relationship, and an actual friendship. Eddie started never letting you pay, telling you that your company was more than enough reward. After that, you came up with more creative ways to thank him. A mixtape, freshly baked sprinkle cookies, a new bracelet, black nail polish.

He wondered if he asked for a kiss as payment you'd give it to him.

Through the small crowd in the living room to the small back porch, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over your form from behind. The way your skirt moved side to side when you walked, in perfect sync with your hips. The back of your legs, the curve of your neck. It made his heart race, and his hands ache to touch.

Finally, you both passed through the doors, — you first, Eddie making sure to slide the door behind him close — breathing in the cool night air. The outside of the house was empty except for the two of you, and the neighbor's cat waltzing around the top of the fence.

"Got the good stuff, Munson?"

You were smiling as you sat down on an old, beat down couch to the left of the porch. He tried not to make it obvious he was staring at the way your thighs spread out as you sat, looking good enough to bite into. Instead, he looked down and fished out the smokes carton from the pocket of his leather jacket, and smirked right back at you.

"For you? Always."

That night, neither of you spoke much as you shared a spliff between the two of you. The silence was not awkward, nor was it uncomfortable. It was just the two of you and the chill October air, and the shitty music that came from the inside of the party.

While he took the last drag, you scooted closer to him, bringing your arm to the back of the couch. "I noticed you looking, you know."

Holding his breath, he asked, "What?"

"At me, silly. I noticed you looking at me the whole night."

Your voice was pure honey, but there was a malice in your eyes Eddie had never seen before. Swallowing hard, he shifted on his seat, incidentally closing the distance between you. "It's just that, uh… You look really pretty tonight. Not that you don't look pretty any other day," he panics, disgusting it with a flare of his hands, "but you look especially beautiful tonight."

"It's the outfit, isn't it? Never would have thought you had a thing for cheerleaders, Eds. Would have told you I used to be one way sooner if I'd known."

"This was yours?" His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head.

"Yeah. All the way through high school. It was fun while it lasted."

He hummed, but on the inside, Eddie wanted to scream. "Whoa, sweetheart. Gotta show me your moves one of these days."

"I could show you a few right now."

You got impossibly closer, your face inches from his own. Instead of kissing him like he expected you to do, you took one of his hands and placed it on your waist, not breaking eye contact with him. "You can touch me if you want to, Eddie. It's okay, I want you to."

He sat up straighter, grabbing your waist earnestly now. "Can I kiss you, baby?"

With your nod as confirmation, he did. He kissed you long and deep, stealing the breath away from both of you. He tastes you on his tongue, smoke and cheap vodka lingering there, as you straddled his hips, pretty pleated skirt flaring around your hips.

Hands wandering over layers, mouths wandering over skin. Eddie kissed every spot he could find, from your mouth to your neck, sucking and biting bruises that knew would still be there in the morning. He squeezed your boobs through your tight top, massaging them in his rough hands, making you moan in his mouth. He drank each strangled moan, each sigh, fueling his want for you.

Your hands soon found the buckle of his belt, expertly opening it, and palming him through his boxers. He could almost feel embarrassed over how hard he already was, but he could sense that you were equally as eager, applying pressure on his cock, running your nails through the length of it just to feel him shiver under your ministrations.

You didn't break the kiss as you pulled him out of his underwear, stroking him slowly, pumping his cock with your hand, running your thumb over the head of it, slicking him with his own precum. Eddie bit your bottom lip to stay quiet, making you look at him through hooded eyes. "Feeling good, handsome?"

"Too good. Too fucking good to be true."

You chuckled, low and sexy. "It is true. It's all for you."

As you kept stroking and squeezing him in your hand, moving your thumb from the sensitive underside to the head, and down again, making his hips jerked and thrusted into your grip, he kept kissing you, pouring all of his adoration into it, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with his own.

A chill ran down his spine with a particular tug of your hand on his cock. At the feeling of it, Eddie put a hand on your wrist, stopping you. "Angel, I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing this."

"But I wanna make you cum, Eds." You pouted, looking down at him.

"You can make me cum inside of this perfect pussy, how about that?"

"I think I like that more, too."

Without warning, you pulled yourself up, standing in front of him. As if you were putting on a show, you bent down at the waist, and slowly removed your panties from under your skirt, tossing on the couch right next to him, and mounted him again. "You're gonna kill me, aren't you? Was that your plan all along?"

"I don't know. Is it working?"

This time, he grabbed your hips and helped you align yourself above his cock, rubbing his head along your entrance and letting it catch on your clit a couple of times before you sat yourself on him, taking him in slowly, accommodating the stretch inside of you.

It was heaven, right there, under that tiny cheerleader skirt.

"Trust me. It's working really damn well."

You lost yourselves in that moment, moving your hips in sync. Eddie was hypnotized by the way you bounced on him, each slide of your slick, warm pussy went straight through his whole body, making him hold tightly onto you, wrapping his arms around you.

All he could hear was your heavy breathing, your little whimpers better than the music that muffled his own stubborn moans that made their way out of his gaping mouth. He felt you squeeze him with your cunt as you pulled his hair, hips growing more and more reckless with each movement, signaling that you were close.

Eddie started to fuck up into you, making you bounce harder on his lap. He felt the way you lost balance, holding onto his shoulders and shutting your eyes hard.

"It's okay, pretty girl. You can let go. I'm right here with you, you can cum for me." He pleaded, "Please? Cum with me."

You came almost at the same time, squeezing each other's bodies, trying hard not to make too much noise. While you rode out your orgasms, Eddie left kisses all over your shoulder, to your neck, to the side of your face. A last kiss on your cheek, on the side where you were hiding your face on his neck.

"We should get out of here before someone catches us."

Your voice tickled the sensitive skin of his neck, and he ran his hand over your back. You were still joined under your skirt, his cock growing soft inside of you, but still terribly warm. "Your place or mine?"

You raised your face from its hiding place, and pushed a strand of his wild hair behind his ear. "Wherever we don't have to keep quiet like this."

"My place it is."

[h0rr0rsaxo]

PLAYFIGHTING WITH THEM + CREEPYPASTA MEN.

Masterlist / Requests?

SYNOPSIS: How they'd act while play-fighting with you.

PAIRINGS. Jeff the killer x reader, Ticci Toby x reader, Eyeless Jack x reader, Hoodie x reader, Masky x reader, Homicidal Liu x reader, Ben drowned x reader.

GENRE + WARNINGS. It gets a bit suggestive during some parts, but it's mostly fluff overall.

ﾒ JEFF 

He's so competitive— in a good way. He loves to just grab your wrists, and overpower you, the smug-shit eating grin on his face. The moment your hand made contact with his hoodie, you felt a hand grip your side— the hand gripped onto your clothes tightly and was then followed by swooping legs that kicked your knees out from under you. Jeff then will use this momentum and his grip on your side to remove himself from under you before you hit the bed. In the blink of an eye, the cocky man had flipped you under hom and placed each knee beside your hips to pin you in place. He never lets you win, and probably never will. He's such a loveable asshole. His idea of an award for overpowering you is…suggestive.

ﾒ TOBY 

Toby tries to be gentle, but to be completely honest— he doesn't know his own strength so there is a chance he might hurt you, just a little bit. Toby would wrap his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground, spinning you around and then gently setting you back down. You would both giggle and laugh as you playfully tugged at each other's limbs, all the while maintaining a sense of mutual respect and affection. Whenever he would playfully tug you over to him, he'd press kisses all over you while you desperately laughed and pushed at him in attempt to get him to let you breathe.

ﾒ JACK 

He doesn't do this often— considering he's very much a large demon man, he's very gentle with you no matter what— so it's somewhat obvious that he wouldn't play fight with you often. He would have to be in an especially giddy mood, and even then— he will probably just let you pin him down to see that victorious little grin on your face. He won't directly wrestle with you, but he will bite you LOL. He will sink his teeth in your skin and smirk at your little giggles/whimpers— it might become way more heated than you had originally intended. 

ﾒ HOODIE 

This man. Oh my God. He's such a loveable asshole. He definitely DOESN'T let you win. He's usually tired by the time he gets home— but as he watches you casually fold clothes, his tiredness begins to fade, and he finds himself feeling more and more awake, energized by the company of his darling. He will randomly wrestle with you and act extremely playful. He will lean over and plant a soft, playful kiss on your cheek, causing you to giggle. His eyes will sparkle with mischief when he's playfully wrestling with you on the bed, and ruining all the folded clothes. Will he help you fold the clothes afterwards? Only if you win. 

ﾒ MASKY

Will let you win sometimes, just so he can go to sleep. If he's feeling petty though, he will overpower you just so he can see that cute little annoyed frown on your face. He also loves to man-handle you lmao. You watched as Tim rolled his eyes, knowing that after all the shit talking you had done over the last hour, it wouldn’t take more to get him to snap. You slid your hands up his sides as you lightly brushed your lips along his jawline. The moment you felt his breath hitch, you planted your hands on his chest and shoved him down on the bef, quickly jumping back out of his reach. At first— you were just being playful, but now, it turned into something else. 

ﾒ LIU

I love Liu so much— he always lets you win, and compliments you throughout the entire time. The cute little compliments aren't meant to catch you off guard— but they do anyway. Despite the playful tone of your words, it was clear that you both held a deep love and respect for each other. As you continued to play-fight, your movements grew more fluid and graceful, as if they were dancing rather than wrestling. Finally, after several minutes of play— you both ended the game with a gentle embrace, both breathing heavily and grinning from ear to ear. In that moment, it was clear that your cute bond went far beyond mere physical play, and that the love and affection they shared for each other was truly special. He loves you so much.

ﾒ BEN

You guys struggle to overpower eachother lmao… you both play-fight all the time, engaging in playful banter, teasing each other with witty remarks and jovial insults. Sometimes, he'll grope you just to catch you off guard, or throw a string of extremely suggestive compliments giving him enough time to be able to flip you over. He's easily flustered though, so you can turn the tables on him and make him extremely flustered with little to no problem— and he's so dramatic about it too, he will pretend to die lmao, "At least my last moments were spent with someone with nice thighs…! *dies*" Thick or stick, he loves your thighs bro. Bonus points if you (gently) choke him with them.