I finally did it! I rarely manage to complete such a challenging project. 🎉 I hope you like it!
WARNING: 🔞 contains explicit sex scenes.
➡️ archiveofourown.org/works/78121991 ⬅️
DEAR READER

Kaledo Art

if i look back, i am lost
Game of Thrones Daily

pixel skylines
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Monterey Bay Aquarium
cherry valley forever

titsay

#extradirty
AnasAbdin
tumblr dot com
Sade Olutola

oozey mess
NASA
RMH
Keni

tannertan36

blake kathryn
d e v o n

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Germany

seen from Germany

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from Germany

seen from Japan

seen from South Korea
seen from Hungary
seen from Türkiye

seen from Finland
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Germany

seen from Japan
seen from Canada
@arangandsatto
I finally did it! I rarely manage to complete such a challenging project. 🎉 I hope you like it!
WARNING: 🔞 contains explicit sex scenes.
➡️ archiveofourown.org/works/78121991 ⬅️
After what happened.. This Cowboy needs a kiss. RIGHT!
Okey, I'm done this. My ❤️ stopped
what’s on your mind, coop?
One of my favorite things ( I have many ) about your Eddie Munson smut is that you include his rings when he fingers his girlfriend or the female reader. I was wondering what if it's their first time hooking up and he goes to remove the rings and she asks him to keep them on?!
Oh why thank you. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Keep the rings on
⚠️ smut
Y/N tried not to make it obvious that she stared at Eddie's long fingers every chance she got. One of the main attractions she felt towards Eddie was the way he decorated his fingers. It was like he dressed them up just so she would stare with drool down her chin. But most of the time Eddie was completely oblivious.
Eddie slightly strummed his guitar, unaware his girlfriend's eyes were eating him alive. She was meant to be doing homework, a textbook open on her lap but her eyes never read the book. She watched as his fingers worked on the guitar, a familiar burn rested in her stomach. Naturally, she would pleasure herself as she thought about his fingers, but she wasn't home. She was being tortured in his bedroom, on his bed, while they were all alone. She wanted him and she wanted him so badly, but they had never crossed that boundary yet. She hoped he was sexually attracted to her and wanted her in the same type of way.
"Hey, Eddie?" Her voice was drier than she thought and she hated how cracked it sounded. His brown eyes looked up at her and she tried not to moan as his fingers still strummed the guitar.
✭ Henderson? Henderson ✭
Pairing: Fem!reader and Eddie Munson
AN: Stranger things hyper fixation hit me hard. Need a dnd metal head like Eddie in my life so badly so yes, a bit of a self indulging fic, sue me. Happy holidays everyone as well.
CW: Fem!reader (referred as girl and girlfriend several times), suggestive content but no smut, sub!Eddie if you squint, wholesome parental figures over Dustin
The first rays of sunshine slotted through the trailer's shitty blinds. For once in his life, Eddie didn't mind being woken at an ungodly hour: not when it meant that he could stare at the beautiful creature next to him. There you were. His girl. Peaceful and asleep, in your own little bubble. Part of him wanted to reach out, touch you, make sure you were real. At the end of the day, you were lying on a mattress with suspicious stains, on the floor, in a shitty trailer all while looking like a metal goddess in one of his old Iron Maiden shirts. How on earth Eddie managed to pull you was beyond his comprehension in his eyes.
Everyone else seemed to think he was a freak, didn't go anywhere near Hellfire Club, just saw Eddie as a future felon; then there was you who practically marched into Hellfire and demanded that you'd join, slamming a character sheet on the table. Eddie smiled at the memory: that was a good day.
Hi!!! Can I request fic when shy reader has a big crush on Eddie and tries to talk to him at school?
He would be so surprised and excited when he realized what she means 💜
Thank you!!!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Hi
Y/N was too shy to be known by many people. She kept to herself, and had a few friends. She didn't like to talk to strangers, and she didn't like to be the center of attention. Which is why she was surprised to catch herself smiling at Eddie Munson.
Eddie Munson didn't have a shy bone in his body. He was unapologetically loud. He loved being the center of attention, even if it was not good attention. Y/N wasn't sure if it was because he was the opposite of her that her crush on him was massive. She really wanted to talk to him and get to know him, but she wasn't sure she was capable of it.
The first time she tried was awful. She smoothed out her clothes and walked over to his desk as the bell rang.
"Hi,"
Hi! I don't know if you do stranger things requests, but if you do. Can you do a trad goth reader x Eddie munson reacting to reader without her makeup on?
GOTHIC DREAM
eddie munson x trad goth!f!reader, request
WARNINGS: fluff, suggestive lang., gothic!reader, est. relationship
a/n: very beautiful and perfect idea that i wouldve never thought of lol and i tried to put pictures of beautiful gothic women but it wasnt working (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )
No one really talks about how quiet it is the morning after having sex with your partner for the first time.
You woke up first, makeup smudged, body sticky and covered in Eddie's essence, hair tangled, and feeling like you'd been hit by a bus.
Pushing out of Eddie's arms, you glanced back at the boy in question, grinning at the sight of his sleeping form. His chest was bare, covered in tattoos, and the pale sheen of your foundation. Mouth agape, and little snores escaping his lips.
You blushed at the memory of last night, tangled beneath the sheets with your boyfriend of eight months, moaning as if it was your way of breathing, body trembling through pleasure and the gratification of sharing yourself with someone you deeply cared about.
The shower you took lasted a while, and once you were finished, you watched yourself in the mirror, bare-faced, skin red from bathing, shoulders moist with water, and chest covered in love bites.
every time it rains, you’re here in my head
pairing: eddie munson x reader
summary: And he wonders—just like he did that first night—and the one after that, and every night since—how long it’ll take for you to find out what really lives inside his head.
And if, when you do, you’ll still want him to stay.
warnings: softdom!eddie, sickfic, caretaking, eddie's pov, intense pining/yearning, guilt, praise kink (?), dom/sub undertones, angst, hurt/comfort, medical anxiety, mention of wealth gap/absent parents, reader is sick and soft dom+lovesick eddie is spiraling.
word count: 10k
prev pt here | series masterlist | series playlist
It starts with the empty seat.
Cafeteria, back corner, third table from the vending machines.
Yours.
The one by the window. Where the sun always catches your hair just right. Where you sip soda with your pinky curled loose and trace the little scar in the tabletop with your finger like it means something.
That seat’s been empty for three days now.
Behind Closed Doors - Eddie Munson X Reader
masterlist
Summary: 18+, Eddie X Steve's younger sister
At Steve’s chaotic party, you and Eddie Munson circle each other like fire and gasoline, sharp insults, teasing glances, and a dangerous spark that refuses to die. Every interaction is a game of push and pull, and the tension between you is impossible to ignore.
WARNINGS: 18+, MDNI< its boutta get unholy up in here yall
WORDCOUNT: 5499
The music was loud, the kind of bass-heavy chaos that rattled your teeth and made Steve’s parties feel like their own small apocalypse. You were hovering near the kitchen, soda in hand, trying to avoid the sweaty crush of teenagers circling the living room when someone slid up beside you with a grin that could only belong to Eddie Munson.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Harrington,” he said, voice dripping with mock admiration. “Out here pretending you don’t want to be at your own brother's party?”
You arched a brow, taking a slow sip of your drink. “And you’re here pretending you don’t want to annoy me.”
He laughed low and long, like you’d just handed him the punchline of the century. “Touché. But let’s be honest—you do want to be here. And you secretly want to talk to me.”
“Secretly,” you echoed, voice flat but eyes narrowed. “Or you’re just full of shit.”
“Both,” he admitted instantly, tilting his head with that infuriating confidence of his. “I’m full of shit, and you love it.”
“Excuse me?” you snapped, stepping closer, challenging him. “I loathe it. You are… how do I put this…utterly insufferable.”
He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. “Insufferable? Please. I’m charming. It’s a talent.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a deliberate, slow sip of your soda just to irritate him further. “If you’re charming, I must be blind. Or deaf. Definitely both.”
Eddie’s grin widened, and you immediately regretted the smile twitching at the corner of your mouth.
“I don’t,” you said quickly, though your voice lacked conviction. You refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting that maybe, just maybe, he got under your skin in a way no one else could.
He shrugged, eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You narrowed your eyes, giving him a pointed look. “And I bet you say that to every girl at these parties.”
“Every girl?” he echoed, mock offense in his tone. “Darling, you wound me. I save my best insults for special people.”
You blinked, heat crawling up your neck before you could stop it. “Cute. Very cute. Keep insulting me like that and I might start thinking you enjoy this.”
Eddie’s eyes lit up like you’d just dared him to do something reckless. He pushed off the counter, closing a fraction of the space between you with a swagger that made you want to roll your eyes and maybe shove him—hard.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, lowering his voice to something annoyingly smooth, “if I enjoyed this any more, Steve would throw me out of his own house.”
You scoffed. “Please. Steve would throw me out first.”
“Careful, Harrington,” he drawled. “Keep talking to me like that and someone might think you want me.”
You scoffed and shoved his shoulder just enough to rock him backward. “Relax, Munson. If I wanted you, you’d know.”
Eddie steadied himself, ringed hands raised in surrender, but his grin sharpened. “Is that a promise?”
“It’s a warning.”
“Ooh,” he breathed, stepping back toward you like you were gravity. “Even better.”
Someone yelled Eddie’s name from the living room—probably Gareth or Jeff or one of the other guys demanding he come defend his title in a very serious argument about Metallica—but Eddie didn’t move. Not yet.
He tipped his head, eyes dragging over your face with an annoyingly slow, annoyingly knowing sweep.
“This isn’t over,” he said.
“It never is,” you shot back.
Only then did he tear himself away, strutting off toward the noise—leaving you with your drink, a racing pulse, and the horrible realization that you were in trouble. Very big trouble.
—-
The music thumped from inside, but out here in the garden, it felt quieter, like the world had narrowed down to the grass under your feet and the dark sky above. You were swaying slightly, more from liquor than the wind, when you spotted him leaning against the railing, cigarette dangling between his fingers
“Eddie,” you called, voice sharp enough to cut through the buzz in your head. “Giving the party a break, or just trying to look like a tragic poet?”
He snorted, eyes glinting as he flicked ash onto the grass. “Tragic poet?” he slurred slightly, the alcohol loosening the usual edge of his voice. “Sweetheart, I like that. Want a cigarette?”
You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe. If you promise not to lick it first.”
“Hey,” he laughed, the sound low and rough, leaning closer so the smoke curled between you, “I don’t lick my smokes. That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. That’s different.”
“Good,” you shot back, stepping forward just enough to grab the cigarette, your fingers brushing his. Sparks—or maybe alcohol-fueled hormones—shot up your arm. “I like disgusting. Makes life more fun.”
He grinned, tipping the cigarette to his lips, eyes half-lidded. “You’re a nightmare. I like nightmares.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” you muttered, dragging a long inhale, holding it just to annoy him, “maybe someday you’ll believe it.”
Eddie leaned closer, too close, his grin mischievous and messy. “You’re drunk,” he said softly, voice teasing, “and meaner than usual. I like it.”
“Not drunk enough,” you shot back, voice low and rough, “or I’d set your hair on fire just to see you scream.”
He laughed, a low, rattling sound, tilting his head as if that idea excited him. “You’d get me hard before the fire, you know that, right?”
You snorted, bumping his shoulder. “Yeah, and I’d make sure you hated every second of it.”
He groaned dramatically, fumbling with the cigarette, still too close. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re a dick,” you said, smirking. “But somehow, I can’t stop looking at you.”
Eddie’s grin softened, just slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief and something warmer under the alcohol-fueled confidence. “Same,” he admitted, leaning back just enough to give you room, but not really. “Same, goddamn it.”
You snorted, taking a long drag and letting the smoke curl around you. “You’re lucky you’re drunk, Munson. Otherwise, I’d be kicking you into next week.”
He tilted his head, eyes dark, grin sharp. “And I’d like it. Maybe too much.”
“And you’re a dick,” you said, smirking as you flicked ash to the ground. “Annoying as hell, as usual.”
Eddie didn’t laugh this time. He went still—eyes dropping to your mouth for a split second before dragging back up to your eyes. His grin curved slow, lazy, dangerous.
“You know,” he said, voice low and rough, “for a total pain in the ass, I can’t stop looking at you tonight.”
Your stomach tightened, heat coiling low, but you forced a scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh please.”
He leaned in, just a fraction, enough that you could smell his cologne and cigarettes, enough that your pulse stuttered. “Don’t ‘oh please’ me. You look good tonight. Messy, drunk, irritating… and I like it.”
You covered it with another drag of your cigarette. “You’re lucky you’re drunk, Munson,” you said, exhaling smoke between you both, “otherwise, I’d be kicking you into next week.”
Eddie tilted his head, hair brushing his shoulders, grin gaining a wicked tilt. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “the way you look at me? You’re not kicking me anywhere.”
Your pulse jumped. You glared at him to hide it.
He stepped the slightest bit closer—close enough his breath warmed your cheek. “And if you did…” his voice dropped into something low and filthy, “I’d probably like it. A lot.”
The night felt suddenly too warm. He leaned back just a bit, muttering under his breath, half to himself, half to the universe, “Of course it has to be Steve’s sister…”
You froze, smirk tugging despite yourself. “Excuse me?”
Eddie’s eyes flicked up to yours, mischievous and slightly guilty, but that grin stayed sharp. “Nothing. Forget it.”
Eddie ran a hand through his hair, the cigarette dangling lazily from his fingers. “Seriously, you’re standing out here missing all the fun. You should go back in, you know… join the chaos.”
“I’m gonna head up to bed,” you said, tugging your jacket tighter around yourself, giving him one last sharp glance over your shoulder.
He frowned, muttering, “Bed? You’re abandoning the party already?” His grin faltered into something sharper, more deliberate. “C’mon, you’re making me feel like I should be punished for being fun.”
You smirked, tilting your head. “Maybe you should.”
Eddie stepped a little closer, but you shook your head, flicking the cigarette away. “Anyway,” you said, voice softening just enough to make him catch it, “don’t get too comfortable with the party without me.”
You started up the stairs, pausing halfway to glance back at him. “Oh, and Eddie?”
“Yeah?” His grin was lazy, knowing, and entirely too confident.
“2nd floor,” you said, voice casual, like it was nothing. “Next to the bathroom on the left… in case you get bored of the party.”
His eyebrows shot up, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face as he watched you disappear down the hallway. “Next to the bathroom on the left,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with that mix of frustration and excitement. “Of course it’s there…”
The party raged on below, oblivious, but upstairs, in that small, quiet hallway, the air felt suddenly charged. Eddie’s hand itched, as he dropped his cigarette on the floor, crushing it with his boot.
The music thumped from downstairs, but up here, the world had narrowed to the dim hallway, the faint smell of your perfume, and the heat that seemed to cling to him. Eddie ran a hand over his face, fingers tangled in his hair, trying to make sense of how someone could be so infuriating and magnetic at the same time.
He leaned against the wall, boots scraping softly against the wood floor, imagining what it would be like if he followed you up there. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them innocent. Every rational thought—the one telling him not to overstep, not to give Steve’s sister the wrong idea—was drowned out by a cocktail of alcohol, adrenaline, and desire.
“Next to the bathroom on the left…” He could feel that smirk still haunting him, teasing him with every step he took. He started up the stairs, boots thudding softly against the wood, each step calculated, purposeful, bringing him closer to you.
Halfway up, a shadow detached itself from the hall. Steve. His expression was casual enough, but Eddie could hear the curiosity in the drawl of his voice. “Hey—where’s Y/N?”
Eddie froze for just a second, weighing his options, then smirked and shrugged, turning on the charm. “Oh, uh… she said she wanted to crash early. You know, rest and all that. Party’s wild, gotta pace yourself.”
Steve raised an eyebrow, unconvinced but willing to let it go. “Alright, fair. Don’t do anything stupid, Munson.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie replied, voice smooth, eyes already darting toward the second-floor landing. Steve waved him off and went back downstairs, and Eddie exhaled slowly, letting the tension slip from his shoulders.
Once he was alone, the hallway felt different—quieter, charged, like the whole world had shrunk down to just him and the space between the stairs and your door. He paused for a fraction of a second, hand brushing the frame, savoring the thought of you just beyond it. He could hear faint creaks from inside, maybe the sound of you moving around, maybe not—it didn’t matter.
He leaned in slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips, whispering under his breath, “Let’s see how impossible you really are, Harrington.” Then, tapping lightly on the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind him.
The room smelled faintly like you—your perfume, your shampoo, something familiar that made his chest tighten in an annoying, pleasant way. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, studying you. You were perched on the edge of your bed, hair a little mussed, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, a cigarette dangling lazily between your fingers.
“You actually came,” you said, voice sharp but teasing, eyes narrowing with the tiniest hint of a smile.
“Of course I did,” he said, stepping fully into the room, letting the door close behind him. “You didn’t think I’d let you sneak off to bed without saying hello, did you?”
You rolled your eyes, dragging on your cigarette and letting the smoke curl around you like a shield. “I said I was heading to bed. Didn’t say anything about company.”
“Right,” he said, tilting his head, grin spreading slowly. “Company that doesn’t have to follow the rules of Steve’s little party chaos. Company that can do… whatever it wants.”
You snorted, leaning back slightly on your hands. “Careful, Munson. You’re flirting dangerously close to the ‘I hate you’ line.”
He laughed, low and throaty, taking a step closer so the space between you felt electric. “Good,” he murmured. “I like it when you hate me. Makes the chase… fun.”
Your stomach fluttered despite yourself, and you shoved him lightly with just enough force to rock him back on his heels. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it,” he countered instantly, smirk sharp, eyes gleaming. “Admit it.”
You blinked at him, chest tightening in a way that was equal parts thrilling and infuriating. “Maybe,” you repeated, voice low, teasing, “if I felt like it.”
Eddie’s grin widened, slow and dangerous, and he took another step closer, closing the distance until the heat radiating off him brushed against your arm. “Mm,” he murmured, dragging out the sound, “you know… you’re really good at this—making me want things I shouldn’t want.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you shot back, scoffing, though your pulse betrayed your nerves.
“Oh, it’s a warning,” he said, voice dropping low, rough, laced with that messy confidence you couldn’t ignore. He tilted his head, eyes dragging over your face with that maddening, calculating look. “The way you look at me, the way you’re just… standing there like you own my brain right now… it’s—fuck it—driving me insane.”
Your breath hitched, and you shoved him again, harder this time, though not enough to really move him. “You’re disgusting,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice sharp, to hide the heat coiling low in your stomach.
“And you,” he countered, voice dropping even lower, “you’re making me think about things I shouldn’t be thinking about… right here, right now… and it’s making me fucking hard.”
Your eyes went wide for a split second, and he leaned in just enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. “Eddie—”
“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, before closing the gap completely. His lips were on yours, claiming and bold, and the world shrank down to the taste of him, the rough scrape of stubble against your cheek, and the overwhelming electricity sparking between you.
You froze for a moment, stunned, before your body betrayed you, pressing forward, letting the kiss deepen. His hands moved to your hips, holding you in place, and for all the teasing, the challenges, and the sharp words between you, this—this was unguarded, messy, and undeniably real.
His hands moved to your waist as he deepened the kiss.
“This,” you catch your breath. “This is a bad idea, Steve will kill you, he’ll kill me,”
Eddie chuckled low against your lips, the vibration sending heat straight through your chest. “Steve doesn’t need to know,” he murmured, voice rough, teasing, and dangerously close. He tilted his head, pressing just a little harder, fingers digging into your waist as if to anchor himself to you.
You tried to pull back slightly, fumbling for air, but he didn’t let you. “Bad idea, yeah?” he muttered, lips brushing against yours again in a soft, taunting graze. “Everything worth doing is a bad idea sometimes, sweetheart.”
You groaned, exhaling sharply, pressing into him despite your better judgment. “Eddie… we shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t what?” he teased, voice low, dangerous, brushing your ear as he nuzzled the side of your neck. “Tell me you don’t like this, and I’ll call bullshit on the spot.”
You froze, heart hammering, caught between the urge to shove him away and the undeniable pull of wanting him closer. “I—”
“Yeah,” he interrupted, grinning against your skin, “that’s what I thought.” His hands tightened at your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, harder this time, leaving no room for argument or hesitation. The world outside the room, Steve’s party, the music, the chaos,faded completely, leaving only you and him, tangled up in something reckless.
Eddie kissed you like he’d been waiting years for an excuse, mouth hot and greedy against yours, hands sliding from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The second your bodies collided, he exhaled something ragged, almost relieved, like finally getting his hands on you had knocked the air out of him.
You grabbed the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric, dragging him closer until there was no space left at all. His rings were cold against your skin as he cupped your jaw and tilted your head back, deepening the kiss with an urgency that made your knees go weak.
He broke away for only a second, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your throat, breath hot as he muttered against your skin, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Your fingers slid under the hem of his shirt without thinking, feeling warm skin and the tense flex of muscle as he sucked in a sharp breath. “I shouldn’t be doing anything to you,” you managed, voice shaky. “This is—this is stupid. Steve will—”
Eddie cut you off with a laugh against your neck, low and breathless. “Steve’s not here,” he said, mouthing at your pulse. “And even if he was… you think I’d stop?”
You dragged him back up by his collar and kissed him again, harder this time. He groaned into your mouth, hands sliding up your sides, over your ribs, thumbs brushing dangerously close to places that made your breath catch. Every pass of his hands felt deliberate, hungry, like he was mapping you.
He walked you backward until your knees hit the bed. The shift in balance made you grab onto his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to make him shudder.
“Careful,” he murmured, lips brushing yours, “you keep touching me like that, I’m gonna forget how to be a gentleman.”
“You were never a gentleman,” you shot back, but your voice was barely a whisper.
“Exactly,” he breathed, kissing you again, slower this time, deeper, like he wanted to memorize the taste of you. His hands settled at your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft dips there as he eased you down onto the mattress.
His hands crawled under your shirt and around to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a simple click. You gave him a somewhat look of respect, which he returned with a casual shrug before pushing your shirt up as he laid you down on the bed.
Eddie’s lips kissed up your stomach before landing at each nipple, giving them a light tug with his teeth, causing a sigh out of your mouth.
You lay there, still catching your breath, Eddie's weight a comforting press against you as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin. The afterglow hummed through your veins, but the distant thump of music from downstairs reminded you of the party raging on without you two. Eddie's lips curved into a smirk against your neck, his cock twitching inside you as if already stirring for more.
A sudden knock echoed through the door, sharp and insistent. Your heart leaped into your throat. "Y/N? You up here?" Steve's voice called out, muffled but clear. Panic flickered in your eyes, but Eddie just chuckled low, his hand clamping over your mouth briefly to silence any gasp.
"Shh," he whispered, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. He pulled out slowly, the slick slide making you bite your lip to stifle a whine. Before you could protest, he rolled off the bed, grabbing the duvet and comforter in a fluid motion. "Act natural, baby. Tell him you're fine."
You scrambled to sit up, yanking the sheet up to cover your chest as another knock came. Eddie dove under the covers at the foot of the bed, his hands immediately gripping your ankles and spreading your legs apart. The fabric tented slightly as he positioned himself between your thighs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.
"Yeah, Steve? What's up?" you called out, voice steadier than you felt. Your pulse raced, a thrill of danger mixing with the lingering ache between your legs.
"Have you seen my lighter? The one that says 'I heart Hooters'? I swear I had it downstairs, but it's gone. You didn't grab it or anything, did you?" Steve sounded annoyed, shifting his weight outside the door.
Under the duvet, Eddie's tongue flicked out, tracing a bold line up your inner thigh. You clenched your fists in the sheets, fighting to keep your expression neutral. "N-no, I haven't seen it," you managed, hips twitching involuntarily as his mouth reached your core. He didn't hesitate—his lips sealed over your pussy, sucking gently at first, then harder, tongue delving into your folds to lap at the mix of your arousal and his cum still leaking from you.
"You sure? I need it for this joint everyone's passing around." Steve knocked again, lighter this time, like he was about to turn the knob.
Eddie's hands dug into your thighs, holding you open as he thrust his tongue deep inside you, fucking you with it in slow, deliberate strokes. The wet sounds were barely muffled by the comforter, and you pressed your thighs together around his head, both to hide him and to chase the building pressure. "I'm sure," you replied, voice hitching slightly. "Maybe check the kitchen? Or ask someone else?"
He hummed against your clit, the vibration shooting straight through you, and you had to bite down on your knuckle to suppress a moan. His tongue circled the swollen nub, flicking relentlessly while one hand slid up to pinch your ass, pulling you closer to his face. He was devouring you, dominant even in secrecy, forcing your body to respond while you played innocent above.
"Alright, fine. But if you find it, holler. Party's dying without it." Steve's footsteps retreated down the hall, fading into the bass-heavy music below.
The second he was gone, Eddie growled against your skin, the sound possessive and hungry. He sucked your clit into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch off the bed. His fingers joined in, two plunging into your soaked entrance, curling to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "Good girl," he murmured, voice vibrating through you. "Keeping secrets for me. Now cum on my tongue before he comes back."
You shattered quietly, body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you, pussy clenching around his fingers while he licked every drop, unrelenting until you were spent and shaking. He emerged from under the covers, lips glistening, eyes dark with promise. "Told you this isn't over," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back up to claim your mouth in a deep, tasting kiss.
—-
For the next few weeks, it felt like that night had rewired something between you—something dangerous, addictive, and impossible to undo. Eddie acted normal in public. You acted normal in public. But underneath every shared glance, every insult, every shove was the echo of his mouth on your skin and your legs locked around his waist. The two of you became very, very good at hiding it.
It started small.
After Hellfire, Eddie would offer you a ride home like it meant nothing. The moment the van doors shut, he’d grab the front of your shirt and drag you across the bench seat, pulling you into his lap. He kissed you like he’d been starving for days, hands everywhere, breath hot, windows fogging so fast you’d swear the air inside the van had turned molten. Sometimes the seatbelt would dig into your hip. Sometimes his rings would press into your thighs as he held you down. And every time, he’d murmur in your ear to be quiet or he’d make you louder.
The woods were worse. One night you slipped away from a bonfire with the excuse of “getting more beer,” and you barely made it ten steps before Eddie had you against a tree, messy and greedy. His rings were cold on your thighs, bark biting into your back, his hair tangled in your fingers as you tried to keep your noises swallowed.
You returned flushed, breathless, leaves in your hair, and Steve watched you the rest of the night with a suspicion that made your skin burn.
Then there was the trailer. With Wayne working double shifts, the moment the door clicked shut Eddie would pin you to the nearest surface—wall, couch, kitchen counter—and kiss you until your knees gave out. You’d pretend you’d stopped by to “drop something off,” but you never made it past the living room. Half the time you walked out with your shirt buttoned crooked and Eddie’s belt still undone.
The Harrington house was riskier. Much riskier. Which made it your favorite.
Sometimes, when the house was quiet and Steve had gone to bed, Eddie climbed up the porch railing and slipped through your second-story window like a man who’d done it a hundred times. He always came in a little breathless from the thrill, hair mussed from the wind. He’d cover your mouth with his hand as he kissed you, whispering against your lips to be quiet, sweetheart, before pushing you back onto the mattress with the softest, filthiest kind of urgency.
Other times were even worse.
Ten minutes before Steve came home from work, he’d have you in the laundry room, your back against the dryer, his hands gripping your jaw while the other fumbled with your waistband. You’d hear the garage door start to open, and the two of you would scramble into half-presentable shape, breathless and trembling, pretending nothing happened.
Or the upstairs bathroom—where you told Steve you were “fixing your eyeliner” and Eddie slipped in behind you, locking the door with a quiet click. He’d lift you onto the counter and kiss you like he dared the entire world to catch you, his fingers smearing your lip gloss, his breath warm against your throat as he murmured what he’d do if you weren’t both pressed for time.
It should’ve felt wrong. It should’ve been terrifying. Sometimes it was. But mostly, it was intoxicating—every stolen moment, every whispered insult, every time his fingers brushed yours under the table as if by accident, every time he muttered that you were impossible right before kissing you breathless.
You both claimed it was casual. Claimed it was just fun. Claimed no one would ever find out.
But sometimes Eddie looked at you in a way that made your stomach flip—like he remembered every sound you made that night, like he wanted to hear them all again.
And that look made one thing painfully clear:
Whatever this was, it wasn’t going away.
And it was only getting harder—much harder—to hide.
—--
You were already breathless, fingers gripping at his shoulders, the rhythm between you steady, familiar, addictive. Eddie hovered over you, curls falling into his face, breath warm against your cheek as he moved with you—slow, deep, like he wanted to feel every single second of it.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough, “you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”
You let out a breathy laugh, pulling him closer with your legs around his waist, as he kept drilling his hips into you. “You say that every time.”
“That’s because it’s true.” His forehead dropped to yours, his smile crooked, eyes half-lidded and blown. “You—you have no idea what you do to me. None.”
You were about to tease him for being dramatic when you shifted your hips just a little too sharply, and the motion broke the rhythm—one of those clumsy, breathless slips that happened sometimes when you were too lost in each other to care.
Eddie froze.
Not because of the pause, but because in the space it created—one beat, one breath—something spilled out of him he didn’t plan.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his cock twitching inside you, voice cracking slightly, “I—I love you.”
The room went still.
Your fingers tightened on his arms. His eyes widened like he’d heard himself too late.
“Wait—no, I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he stammered, panic flickering across his face. “Not—not right now, not during—shit—”
You stared up at him, heart pounding for an entirely different reason.
“Eddie,” you breathed.
He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw flexing. “Just—pretend I didn’t say anything, okay? It slipped, that’s all, it’s—fuck, I didn’t want to mess this up. Not tonight.”
You were lost in him, breath ragged, heart hammering, fingers clutching at his shoulders when a sudden metallic scrape made both of you freeze.
"Hey, Munson, what you doing parked in front of my yard?"
Steve.
The van door swung open, and Steve’s eyes narrowed instantly, dark and furious. “What the hell—what are you two doing?!” he barked, stepping fully inside, voice rising over the music from the street.
Eddie’s eyes went wide, panic overtaking him. “Steve! No—wait, it’s not what it looks like!” he stammered, fumbling to cover you, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to shield you.
You scrambled, pulling the blanket and your jacket around yourself, cheeks burning. “Yeah! Totally innocent, Steve! We weren’t—”
Steve’s glare cut right through you both, sharp and accusatory. “I don’t want excuses, Munson. I… fuck I can’t believe you, my sister ?”
He swallowed hard, anger thick in his throat, then shook his head, eyes narrowing as if he were trying to process something obvious. “…But… honestly? This—this is kind of obvious. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, the way you act. I knew it. I should’ve known months ago.”
Eddie froze completely, his face a mixture of guilt and relief, while you clutched the blanket closer, heart hammering, cheeks flushed for entirely different reasons.
Steve let out a long, frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “You’re both idiots,” he muttered, anger still simmering, but now tempered with a resigned sort of acknowledgment. “Just… be smart about it.
The room hung in tense silence for a heartbeat before Steve stormed off, slamming the door, sleaving you and Eddie staring at each other, the air thick with heat, laughter, and something more dangerous than either of you had intended.
Eddie exhaled shakily, voice low and rough as he leaned in, brushing a stray curl from your face. “Well… that went… okay?”
You smirked, still breathless, still flushed, and shook your head. “Yeah, ‘okay.’ That’s one way to put it.”
Eddie coughs before turning to you. “ So what I said about, you know, how I said I love…”
Eddie leaned over you, chest pressed to yours, curls falling into his eyes, trying way too hard to look casual. He grinned crookedly, voice low and teasing, “So… that, uh… thing I said? Totally slipped. Didn’t happen. Forget it, okay?”
You raised an eyebrow, fingers tangling in his hair. “Oh really? Just slipped, huh?”
“Yeah!” he said, leaning back just enough to try and sound nonchalant. “Nothing. Forget it. Keep… keep doing whatever you were doing. Totally fine.” His attempt at casual was laughably transparent—heat still radiated off him, and the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him.
You smirked, pressing closer, lips brushing against his in a teasing, deliberate kiss. “Hmm… sure you want me to forget it?” you murmured against his mouth.
Eddie froze, eyes wide for a heartbeat, then groaned, leaning into the kiss, trying—and failing—to keep up the act. His hands found your waist, gripping, holding you close. “I… I didn’t mean it like that! I—shit, I wasn’t trying to—”
You cut him off, tilting your head and deepening the kiss, letting him taste your control for once. He let out a low, breathy laugh against your lips, curling around you anyway, surrendering just a little. “Fine,” he muttered, voice rough, “maybe I meant it. Just… don’t make it weird, okay?”
You smiled against his mouth, trailing your hands over his shoulders and down his back. “Weird’s overrated,” you whispered.
Eddie groaned, resting his forehead against yours, still trying to play it off, still trying to act like nothing had changed—but you could feel it, the way he kept leaning into you, the way his grip tightened as if letting go wasn’t an option. “Yeah… yeah, okay,” he admitted finally, voice low, half teasing, half raw. “Weird’s… fine. Just… don’t tell anyone I said anything, alright?”
You kissed him again, smirk tugging at your lips. “Mmm… I think I can keep that secret.”
mutualism
eddie munson x reader
your first kiss with eddie happens when you’re painting his nails for him and he has to try to resist touching you because the polish is still wet.
wc: 1.6k+ | warnings: kissing, sensuality, sexual tension, friends to lovers, mention of marijuana use, no use of y/n, not explicit but mdni, reader is out of high school/an adult, eddie is repeating senior year again.
author’s note: would it really be so crazy if i said this little drabble is one of my favorite things i have ever written? also this is dedicated to @dearwalker for no reason other than she gets me.
☾𖤓⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ☾𖤓⋆✴︎˚。⋆
You’re supposed to be helping him study for a biology test.
It’s the whole reason you came over.
But then he suggested ordering a pizza. And then he rolled a joint for the two of you to share. Then the pizza was delivered, and he turned on a horror film that you’re sure he’s already seen at least a dozen times.
Now an hour has passed and his biology textbook is still open to the same page that it was when you first arrived.
The movie still plays as background noise as he focuses all of his concentration on painting his fingernails to match his raven curls.
I’ve finished the drawing 🤡🌟❤️
I made a new moodboard for my dark romance Joker fic. This captures the vibe out my story so much better! 😍
Ahhhhhhh! I'm obsessed 😩💚💜🖤
If you're into:
🃏 Twisted power dynamics
🖤 Dark, Gothic vibes
🔥 Slow-burn tension with fear and desire tangled together
💋 The Joker becoming obsessed with someone who's terrified of him—but even more terrified of the thrill he awakens inside her.
…then this is for you!
If you’re curious about the fic, you can read it here! 👀
⚠️ Be warned though—it’s super dark with lots of triggers. The Joker is an obsessive psycho in this. Be sure to mind the warnings list!
spicy links. (pt 1)
here’s some spicy twt links of billy the kid and young coriolanus snow to boost your imagination
again none of these are mine and belong to their respective owners. explicit,18+ content be warned.
if you’d like more, please like and reblog or message me or send me any suggestions you have on my inbox! 📥
masterlist shall be updated and revamped.
hii!! could i request a snow fic where she finds out she cheats on him and voluntarily tributes and hes trying to get her back? i loved the other fics!! I NEED MORE CHEATING SNOW FICS OMGG
Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. || Young President!Coriolanus snow x district!reader
A/n: Sorry anon I hope you’re not disappointed that I didn't fully write your request. I wanted Coryo to lowk suffer in this which is why I didn't dive into details of him getting her back. There is also one scene that is heavily inspired by a scene in the movie Priscilla! I also spent so many hours perfecting this and it was super fun!!!
Warnings: fem!reader, implied infidelity, toxic!coriolanus, manipulation, not proofread, if there's anything else pls lmk!
Wc: 1609
Divider by @firefly-graphics
The rapid clicks echoed throughout the hallway, the sound reverberating off the 12-foot-high ceiling walls. You walk with an eager stride, each step filled with anticipation as you take the familiar route to Coriolanus' office where he spent most, if not, all of his time cooped up in due to the upcoming hunger games.
Snow With A Bimbo Reader
──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | Coryo loves how dumb you are. It makes him look even smarter
warnings | toxic!coryo, dumb!reader, slight innocent!reader, smut, slight housewife!reader
this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
When he first met you at the academy, it was safe to say that from the moment he saw you, Snow was obsessed
You weren’t in the same class as him, though there was really no reason you ought to be because you were not nearly as smart as the other students, but he still noticed you in some classes
Coryo figured that your parents must have bought your way in, because bless your heart you are so dumb
When he first meets you, it’s almost pitiful how he notices that you’re nowhere near his academic level, but that’s okay because you sure are pretty
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧
senator!coriolanus snow x personal assistant fem!reader
cw// nothing! just some cute shorter fluff for a trope i adore
Coriolanus should start taking the amount of sticky notes you left around for him out of your paycheck. He contemplated that idea when he found another two on his desk that morning. You were often the first one into the office, a fact he was particularly proud of when other senators complained that their assistants weren’t working. You knew the way he preferred his papers sorted when he came in, and you always were sure to have his coffee sitting for ten minutes before he arrived, leaving it the perfect temperature for his first sip. Coriolanus thought about your relationship often; there was a certain domesticity to it. You knew him better than nearly anyone, and he desired to know you better despite knowing it could be inappropriate to ask the questions he wanted to.
Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”
*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩
*•.¸♡Prompts: none
*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too
*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader
*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen
Or
Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)
*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k
Part 2
Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.