You're more than willing to help Billy Hargrove find his faith. The only problem is that he wants you on his knees for a different reason.
Billy Hargrove x Religious!FemReader
CW: Smut, some corruption, religious themes, Reader is holier than thou type, and Billy likes to break things.
Is this a result of my religious trauma? Absolutely.
"Hey,” Billy cornered you one day at the end of school as you were grabbing your books from your locker, “I wanted to ask you something.” You felt yourself staring for a moment, wondering what you had to offer for Billy Hargrove. You did your best to avoid gossip, but it still found you at times. You were smart enough to know that Billy had one thing in mind if he cornered a girl alone.
“You’d have to ask my father if you want to take me out.” You responded nervously, shoving the books into your bag. He chuckled, his charming smile lighting up the hallway. You could feel your hands shaking at the sound. You had never had him actually speak to you unless he was making fun of you reading your bible. He thought your devotion to your religion was something to make fun of. You always reminded yourself that he was lost and would one day hopefully understand. You always prayed for him when he would tease you about it. You didn't think anyone should have to burn in hell for eternity, especially when they were so young and could switch their ways. Then again, maybe that was your father's words inside your mind.
“I wasn’t going to ask you that actually, but noted,” You felt a warmth spreading through your body as you grew embarrassed. You hadn’t actually thought he’d ever be interested in you, but there was only one question Billy ever asked girls, “I doubt I’d get daddy’s approval anyways.” He muttered correctly.
The truth was you did like to imagine yourself going out with Billy. He was attractive, popular. It would be like one of those cliche movies. Maybe that was why you prayed for him so hard. You wanted him to better himself so you could dream of being with him. As much as you liked to pretend that you were, you weren't any better than the girls in your grade. You wanted him all the same. Late at night when you would toss and turn, dismissing the naughty thoughts that weighed in your mind. Those were the nights that you would pray and pray until you were too exhausted to think anymore. Your father would never allow you to go out with Billy, however much the boy could change. So, you pretended that you weren't interested in him. You'd still sneak glances, but you never told anyone about how you felt towards him, too afraid of the repercussions you would face. God always knew though.
“What’s your question?” You asked after a moment of silence. You swung your bag around your shoulders before pulling your bible from your locker. It was black and leather bound, and you liked the way the words were printed neatly on the pages. For some reason it made it easier to read.
“I want to repent, but I’ve never prayed before. I was hoping you’d help me.” Billy looked at you sincerely and you felt yourself growing lost in his blue eyes. A small smile formed over your lips as you pulled your bible towards your chest.
"You want me to teach you how to pray?" You repeated, filling yourself grow with pride. You couldn't believe Billy Hargrove had come to you for help. He nodded, almost bashfully as he looked over his shoulder, "I'd love to, but I really don't know how to explain it. It's just, talking to God." You explained, watching how his expression changed.
"I don't know how to do that. Please, I don't want to spend an eternity in hell. Teach me." You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you considered him. You thought of his words again, understanding that you wouldn't want to burn in hell either. It was your job as a Christian to help eithers find the Lord, even if that person was someone like Billy.
"Okay," You responded slowly, watching how he grinned widely at you, "We could do it here?' You questioned him, watching how his blonde curls moved as he shook his head no. You found yourself raising your eyebrow in confusion, wondering why he was denying this location if he was so desperate to save his soul.
"I'd prefer a church. What about the one your dad runs? Is anyone there right now?" You faltered for a moment, not realizing he knew your father's position. You reminded yourself that it was a small town and he had more than likely overheard it from someone.
"Sure," You nodded in agreement, "No, he shouldn't be there right now. We could go by now?" You asked unsure, clutching the bible to your chest. Billy looked down at it, nodding like he was considering something.
"If you're scared about other people seeing you, you shouldn't worry. There's nothing to be ashamed about in welcoming the lord into your life." You smiled, repeating the words you had heard your father preach with hundreds of different times. You sounded robotic, like an exact copy of him. You thought of how proud he would be with you at the moment.
Billy faltered for a moment, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip, "It's not that," He responded easily, "How about I give you a ride over? It's not that far." You nodded, thinking of how it would be a lot easier for you. However, you were worried your parents would grow worried once you didn't arrive home at your usual time. You shook the thoughts away, once again thinking of your father's beaming face once he heard that you had saved a sinner.
“Okay, thank you,” You smiled, completely missing how he already knew the location of your church. You walked alongside him through the long hallway, unsure of what to say, “You know I pray for you every night.” You finally spoke up, meaning it as a compliment.
“Yeah, why’s that?” His blue eyes casted down on you and you felt nervous suddenly. He had such an intense way of holding eye contact. You quickly glanced away and towards your shoes while you walked at his pace.
“I pray for all of the sinners. I don’t think anyone should spend eternity in hell would they could forever live in God’s Grace.” You explained, meaning it in the best way possible. You looked ahead, missing the way he rolled his blue eyes back in his head.
“How sweet,” You felt happy in Billy’s response as you stepped out into the breezy wind. It was warm the sun sitting high in the air. You didn’t even have to follow him to his car, already knowing where he parked from hearing the other girls talking about him, “Here. I’ve got it.” He opened the door for you, his smile shining against you. Your heart hammered as you felt nervous suddenly. You had never been alone with a boy in a car before.
“Thanks,” You slid inside, carefully tucking your skirt under you to keep from sitting on the hot leather seats, “It smells nice in here.” You didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but you had seen the way he smoked. It was shocking that the car didn’t smell that way.
Billy grunted in response, turning the car on as his loud metal music blared to life. You jumped, completely taken aback from how loud it was. You bit your lip hard to keep from saying anything. Your father had warned you about listening to this type of music. He said it was as good as devil worship.
“Something wrong?” Billy questioned, noticing your expression. You should your head quickly, not wanting to seem fussy over the music he listened to in his own car. You didn’t want to scare him off either. If he was just now learning how to pray she couldn’t imagine trying to explain how the music he listened to worshipped Satan.
“It’s just loud,” You strained your voice louder to talk over the music. You quickly buckled up, realizing he wasn’t going to wait for you to do so before he left, “What about your sister?” You asked suddenly, remembering the small redhead. Billy shrugged.
“She got another ride tonight. I told her I had other plans.” You felt a bit guilty for taking her ride but quickly got over it. You reminded yourself that Billy had done it for a good cause. He was going to he learning of God’s love. That was even more important.
“Oh, okay,”
“Do you have a boyfriend or something?” Billy asked, turning his loud banging music down a few notches. You still had to strain your ears in order to hear what he said.
“No,” You spoke a little quickly and tried to correct yourself, “Daddy says I need a good Christian man.” You thought of what your father would say right now with you sitting in Billy’s car. He wouldn’t think of anything good, that was for sure.
“Huh,” Billy glanced over at you. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes lingered against your bare thighs where your skirt had risen high, “Have you been with someone before?” You could feel your whole body go warm as your hands clenched into fists, not wanting to have this conversation with him of all people.
“It’s up here,” You told him, pointing forward as your fathers church came into view. You purposely ignored his question, not wanting to feel the guilt and shame form in your chest, “It’s not much but it’s nice.” You admitted, unsure of why you found yourself needing to defend the size. You had never worried about it before. Perhaps, a small part of you wanted to impress Billy. After all, he had came to you specifically. Maybe you could change him.
It was tiny and white, with a long dirt path that blew up dust as he drove up towards the dirt parking spots. The sugar maple trees leaves had turned from orange to red as the seasons began to shift into Winter. It was one of those days where it had been chill in the morning, but the afternoon sun had made it hot. You smiled at him, hoping that he wouldn't be too worried about his nice car getting dirty.
“This is it,” You mumbled, thankful when he turned the music off, “I think it’ll be good to pray at the altar.” You responded after a second. He held onto his keys as he watched you
“Why there?” He asked, actually seeming to be curious. You grinned again, more than happy to explain the importance of the altar to him.
“In the Bible,” You began watching as he reached across you and pressed the button to your seat belt. You gulped, feeling the warmth from his hands linger against your side, “It’s where people used to make sacrifices for atonement of sin.” You explained, unsure if you made very much sense by the way he held your gaze. He nodded gruffly, before stepping out. You followed behind him, racing up the short cement steps as your skirt picked up in the breeze. You hastily flattened the material back down before opening the door.
“This is nice,” Billy spoke up after you, lingering behind your movements. You popped your knuckles, trying to walk as straight as possible and keep your hips from swaying, “Do many people come?” He questioned as you walked into the service room. You looked around the wooden, red pews before turning to face him.
“Sometimes. Usually around Easter and Christmas. Daddy says that’s when sinners feel the guiltiest.” Billy tilted his head as he watched you curiously. You dug your heels into the wooden floor, unsure of what he was thinking. You watched in a trance, staring at the curve of his hands as he reached into his back pocket. The church was so quiet that every little sound echoed in the room. Your eyes widened as you watched him bring a cigarette between his lips.
“No, no,” You quickly placed your hand over his fist as he began to open his lighter, “Not here. There’s no smoking in the house of the lord.” You explained quickly, watching how his lips curled up just enough to look as if he was smiling. You could tell that irritated him, but you stuck to your fathers' rules, watching as he placed his cigarette back in his box.
"S'alright," He grumbled out, glancing back up at you. You fiddled with your fingers nervously, unsure of how to speak to him, "Can we sit?" He asked after a second and you nodded quickly. You turned and walked towards the altar, sitting on the front row. You sat your bible next to you as you turned to face him, crossing your legs together.
"What do you want to pray about?" You asked, resting your hand against the side of his face. He faced you, mirroring your position. You thought that he looked far too large for the tiny pew. His shirt was unbuttoned in the manner that it always was. You found your eyes drawn to the necklace on his tanned skin and the blonde chest hair that peaked out from his blue shirt.
"My sins," Billy cocked an eyebrow, shaking his foot as he spoke. His movements were causing the pew to shake lightly, "I've drank, cursed, fucked. You know, all of that stuff." You turned away from his intense gaze, not liking how he cursed in the church. You didn't necessarily need all of that information.
"Maybe you should wait to speak to a preacher over that?" You could think of your father's gleeful face now, thinking of how he would be proud to bring another man like Billy to God's light.
“I don’t want to speak to a priest, I want to speak to you.” He reached across the pew, taking your soft hand in his large one. You stared, looking at how your hands connected. You thought of praying suddenly, trying to remove the thoughts that were clouding your mind. There were times you wanted to be like the other girls and have a boyfriend, but you knew your father would simply tell you to focus on God's love instead.
"Do you want me to write you down a prayer then?" You asked him, your skin burning as his thumb rubbed soft circles against you. You breathed in deeply, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. You pushed your legs closer together, feeling a warmth growing between your legs and shame rush into your chest.
"Maybe you could show me how to do it first? I'm so lost, I'll just follow your lead." He explained. You didn't know how to describe it, but his blue eyes looked darker than usual. You blamed it on the dim lights in the church. You didn't want to risk turning them on and having your father yell at you for running up the light bill.
"Over here, then." You stood, ignoring the wetness that was growing between your legs. You'd have to pray for your own sins later when you were finished with Billy. You walked to the alter, looking at the velvet red cushion that your father had spent so much money on. Billy stood close behind you that his warmth was seeping into you.
"Is he going to watch us?" He asked, sounding almost bitter as he motioned towards the very large cross with Jesus hanging from it. You smiled kindly, nodding as you watched his reaction. You were sure it was odd to see, gruesome even, but you knew it was a reminder to everyone of what Jesus had gone through to save people from their sins.
"Okay," You knelt at the altar, looking up at the blonde boy as he lingered above you, "Sit, with me." You smiled sweetly, completely unaware of the way he huffed and seemed to be growing irritated with you. You were too excited to share something with him that you were so passionate about. Not only that, but you would be saving him from damnation.
You flipped your bible open in front of you, referencing John 3:16 as it stared up at you in a golden hue. It was your favorite quote and the only time you actually allowed yourself to write on your bible. You thought of it as too holy to decimate but allowed yourself the pleasure to do so with this one quote.
"I think I should get behind you, that way I can mirror how you sit." You furrowed your eyebrows confused. You didn't understand how he wouldn't be able to copy how you were sitting by looking at you, but you believed him, nonetheless. Your breath hitched a bit in your chest and your body grew warm as he sat behind you. You moved your knees further apart as he nestled his knees next to yours and reached around to link his large hands over your own. You weren't sure you should be feeling this way in the house of the lord.
"Alright," Your voice was shaky as you spoke up again, ignoring the warm feeling growing inside your stomach. You glanced over your shoulder, noticing how intensely he was watching you. You felt like a trapped bunny suddenly and he was the big bad wolf. You exhaled, turning away and ignoring the picture of Mother Mary that seemed to be judging you. You reminded yourself that nothing you were doing was wrong, "Dear Heavenly father-," You began as you bowed your head and closed your eyes. One of Billy's hands moved away from yours, but you ignored it as you thought of the way your father prayed so powerfully and tried to mirror his words.
"We come to you praying for forgiveness of our sins," You continued, ignoring the rustling sounds that Billy was making behind you, "Billy comes to you, exhausted and needing your guidance to right his wrongs." Billy made a sound behind you, and you felt your eyebrows raise but kept your eyes shut. You were slightly worried but then remembered he had come to you for assistance. You reminded yourself of how eager he sounded to learn to pray earlier. You hadn't allowed him to smoke either, perhaps he was acting out of nerves.
"Billy invites you into his life-," Your voice caught in your throat as you felt a slight breeze underneath your skirt, feeling it lift above your thighs. You gulped hard, too lost for a second on the shivers that crossed your skin before you snapped your eyes open, "What are you doing?" You rushed out, turning to look at him.
"Praying with you," He replied simply as his hand toyed with the hem on your skirt. You felt your mouth turning dry. It had been so long since you had been touched in this way. It brought shame to you as you thought of the previous incident. One night at church camp was all it took for your father to think the worst of you. You had spent many evenings like this, on your knees repenting for what you had done in the dark, "What's wrong?" He asked oblivious as his other hand moved from your clutched fingers and traced the exposed section of your thighs. You gaped, feeling more warmth rush between your legs. You hoped he wouldn't raise your skirt too far to see the wet patch that had formed on your panties.
"This isn't praying," You responded quickly but were unable to push him away. Your body seemed to purr against him, urging for more of his touch as his fingers dipped under your skirt and near your panty line. You burned in shame as your hips moved forward to their own accord, "Billy." You warned as his chest vibrated against your back as he laughed. He pressed up against you and you could feel a hardness against your backside. You fought everything in your power to grind back against it as you remembered where you were, what you were doing.
"We're worshipping God, aren't we?" He rested his cheek against yours and you could feel the tickle of his mustache against your skin as he turned to speak to you. He smelt of smoke and mint, "What are we doing wrong?" You knew exactly what you were doing wrong as his hands curved over your hips and ground his bulge against you. You whined, overly enjoying how good it felt.
"You're praying?" You looked at him for reassurance, watching how his blue eyes held onto you. You felt nervous, but ultimately believed him. Was there really a written doctrine on how you were supposed to pray? You realized you'd have to ask your father later. Perhaps this was completely okay as long as it done in prayer.
"I'm praying for my forgiveness," Billy confirmed, letting the material of your skirt rest against your back as his hands traced over your backside. His fingers gripped the hem of your panties, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You didn't have any protests as he slid them down your thighs, "Keep praying for me. You don't want me to go to hell, do you?" He drew you away from your sinful thoughts and feelings. You blinked back as you looked at the words of the bible in front of you, unsure of where to begin again.
"Billy invites you into his life," You repeated again, taking a shaky breath as he rubbed the bare skin of your backside. You closed your eyes tightly, ignoring the sound of plastic tearing, "To fill the emptiness in him and make him w-whole." The gasp caught on your words as you felt pressure between your thighs as Billy slid his hard cock inside of you. He fit into you perfectly and you felt as if you were putty in his hands. The sounds that left your mouth was pathetic as your pussy squeezed around his cock, urging for more of him. Your hips rocked forward against the altar, elbows digging into your bible and curling up the delicate pages as he bottomed out in you. Moans left you breathlessly as you shook your head, trying to find the words to speak again. He pushed all the way forward, bottoming out inside of you as his balls pressed up against your bottom. He grunted in your ear, lips ghosting across your skin. It was sinful, it was pleasurable.
"Help him to understand your grace, your mercy," You squeaked out as he dragged his hips out slowly before pushing back into you. It felt so good, so good that you were unsure you'd feel anything like this again. You were having a hard time thinking of God when all you could focus on was the drag of his cock inside of your fluttering walls, "Your peace." You finished as you rested your head against your enclosed hands as Billy rocked into you. The grip on your hips was tight as he held you steady. Your knees were burning from digging into and slightly dragging along the hardwood floors. You began to pray for more, to never ever go a day where you wouldn't feel Billy's cock inside of you.
"Fuck," Billy's curse drew you from your thoughts and you felt your mouth open in horror as your conscience overtook your lust. You were letting Billy fuck you on your knees against the praying altar, "You're not so pious now, are you?" His warm breath tickled against your neck as you stared up the large cross that was hanging proudly above the two of you. You trembled against him, your thighs shaking as his cock rubbed against the bundle of nerves inside of you.
"Wrong," You moaned out, your hips pinning against the altar as he drilled into you, his hands gripping your waist and shoulder harshly as he kept you still. Not that you would purposely move away anyways. Your pussy was wrapped around him tightly, coating him in your wetness as you begged for more, "Billy, this is so wrong." You pleaded but you didn't want him to stop. You wanted him to continue, to bring you over the edge. Praying had never been this pleasurable before.
“How could this be bad if we’re with the lord right now?” Billy hummed from behind you. Your hands were linked together so tightly that they were turning white from the pressure. Your elbows were digging into the red cushion of the alter as you stared up at the portrait of Jesus hanging above the two of you. You prayed for forgiveness silently, hoping he would understand this one moment of lust.
"It's wrong," You replied weakly, a squeal leaving your mouth as he pulled his cock out until only his tip remained before slamming back into you. He laughed as his lips traced over the crook of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, "F-Forgive me lord." You pleaded, begged even as your body responded differently from what your mind was saying. You knew this was wrong, completely forbidden but you couldn't help how your body was reacting.
It felt so incredible. Your body felt as if it was lifting slowly into the air, warped in pleasure as Billy bent you down harder over the altar. Your hands were still crossed, and you could just barely hear the sound of paper tearing from being pulled against your skin over the sound of your skin slapping together. His rhythm was brutal, and you responded just as eagerly to him, coating his cock with your slick. The sounds that left your mouth that begged him for more, pleaded for him to never stop making her feel this good.
You could remember the way people reacted to your father, cheering him on and praising him during his service. You had never heard anyone sound the way you did at the moment when they responded to God. Billy was drawing out feelings and sounds from you that you didn't think were possible.
"Look at you," He mocked, smacking your cheek lightly, "So fucking desperate for my cock. What would your daddy say if he saw us?" You whined, licking the drool from the corner of your mouth as his cock repeatedly hit against your g-spot. You were so wet, drenching his dick so badly that every time he pulled out it was easier to push back into you and go that much further. Your toes were curling as you cried out.
"He'd be so mad," You whined pathetically, a gasp leaving your mouth as Billy wrapped a large hand around your throat. You moaned when he squeezed softly, tugging your head back so he could lick at your parted lips. It felt so dirty, so wrong as his wet tongue slid inside your mouth. You were desperate, rutting back against him as you opened your mouth wider for him to explore, "Oh God." You took the lords name in vain as Billy swatted at your ass.
"Oh, the poor preacher would be so disappointed in you," Billy tsked as he pulled his mouth away. His cheeks were flushed, lips red and eyes dilated as he spoke full of bitterness, "Knowing his daughter was such a sinner. Letting a stranger fuck, her in his church." He spit out and you turned your head in shame, not liking how his words affected you. They went straight to your core, making you clench around him as his movements became more rapid. For the first time, you didn't understand how something so wrong could feel so good. You felt as if you had been made to be forced upon your knees and fucked in this manner.
“Please stop talking,” You whimpered out, unsure if you could take any more of his words as you felt your stomach muscles tightening together. Your hips were rocking back against him with such urgency, such deprivation as your knuckles turned even whiter, “Billy!” You yelled out as he reached between your legs, rubbing harshly against the bud there that had been begging for attention.
He pulled his hand away quickly before swiftly smacking your pussy. You yelped, the force of his movements pushing you deeper onto his hard cock. You blubbered, moaning as the sensation from his slap traveled across your pussy. It was so embarrassing, but you could feel yourself growing wetter from his actions.
"I don't listen to slutty little preacher's daughters," He yanked on your hair, pulling you back and pressing you against his chest. You mewled pathetically as his cock moved into you harder and faster, "So drunk on my cock, aren't you?" He squeezed your neck, and you felt your face grow warm as the air left your lungs. You felt your eyes beginning to strain before he released his grip, and you were gasping for breath.
"Yes," You whispered out pathetically as he swatted your cheek, making your head more towards the side. You stared at where the piano was positioned in the corner, trying to focus on that instead of the way his hips were rolling into you, "Feels so good." You could feel tears forming in your eyes. You were unsure if it was from the pleasure or the shame.
Billy reached between your legs, his fingers tracing across your folds before rubbing your sensitive bud again. Your whole pussy felt sore from where he had smacked it earlier. You were whining, grinding into his hand as he played with your clit. The sound of the two of you echoed loudly inside of the church and you were sure that anyone nearby could hear your desperate cries.
It didn’t take long after that. The feeling of his cock swelling inside of you, stretching you out with each thrust and hitting your g-spot mixed with his fingers rubbing your wet clit had you chanting his name as you shook around him.
"God," You cried out as you came, fully shaking and trembling around Billy as he held you in place. You were afraid that without his strong grip you would've melted into a puddle on the floor. You partially wish you would so you could slip between the tiles and disappear forever, "Oh my God." You repeated.
Billy grunted into your ear, slamming you against the altar so harshly that your hips burned and screamed in protest. You felt your toes curling as he held himself deep inside of you, before he pulled away quickly. You were stunned, shaking on your knees as he gripped your hair harshly and turned you to face him. You stared up at him from your knees, your hands still clenched together in front of you as he pumped his cock with vigor. You watched the lines of his face, watching how they curled into pleasure. His mouth fell open when he groaned loudly and released white, stringy liquid across your face.
You gasped, blinking your eyes quickly to avoid getting any of the liquid in your eyes. You felt the warm, thick goop resting on your cheek before slowly sliding off and landing on your chest, your arm, your bible. He cursed again, reaching down to wipe the goop away from your eyes. You opened your lids hesitantly.
You thought he looked like an angel. Surrounded in golden light with his cheeks red and his eyes dilated. He scooped his liquid from your face, watching you intensely before pushing it into your gaping mouth. You moaned as his thumb pressed down on your tongue. You held it there for a moment, unsure of the taste. It was odd, too salty and musky. His eyes narrowed.
"Swallow it," He commanded, holding your chin in his hand harshly. You closed your lips together but couldn't find the strength to swallow the odd taste. He frowned and pinched your nose together, cutting off your hair, "Do it." He spoke calmly and that scared you. You forced it down, furrowing your eyebrows together and wincing as you felt it settle heavily in your stomach. It almost burnt you.
"That wasn't God," Billy looked down at you, seemingly surrounded in the golden haze, "That was all me." His words left a gaping hole inside of your chest where your heart had once been pure. You could feel the darkness swirling in as it mixed with the guilt and the shame. You gaped, when he spit on you. It dripped down the side of your cheek, moving towards the curve of your lips. You hastily wiped it away, smearing the saliva onto your cheek and palm. You were repulsed with how good it made you feel.
You shook, still sitting on your burning knees as your emotions flooded inside of you. Billy seemed to be enjoying how conflicted you looked at the moment. You had to pull yourself away from his gaze as your eyes searched the altar for some kind of relief. You looked back, gasping as you looked down at your ruined bible. Pages were torn and ink was smeared from the drool that had left your lips. There was a large puddle of his liquid against your highlighted words. You were horrified and felt the swell of tears rising within you as you were suddenly too aware of what you had just done.
"You've damned me," You cried weakly, pathetically as Billy adjusted himself. He tilted his head, a grin ghosting across his lips as he looked down at you. Your hair messy, lips swollen and eyes red. Your knees burned as you moved to sit on your backside. Your thighs were slick from your come and your panties hung pathetically on your thighs as you tried to pull them up between your blubbering. He had taken away your faith and left you with an entirely different craving inside that you feared only he could solve, "Why?" You asked a loaded question, too full of your emotions to care. It was just as much your fault as his, but he had tempted you.
He crouched down in front of you, ignoring your rules from earlier as he lit his cigarette. You stared in horror as he blew a puff of smoke out at you. You suddenly wondered if he was the devil. The bible had spoken of Satan being so beautiful, so appealing that he could easily persuade those who were weak of faith into sinning. You realized your father had been right all along about you. You were weak. The worst thing was that you knew if Billy asked, you'd do it all over again. Despite your shame and humiliation, you would let him take you on the floor of your father's church again.
Billy cupped your chin, forcing you to look up at you as he stared at you with hardened blue eyes. You had thought that they were so pretty earlier, but now all it did was remind you of the terrible things you had done, "We're both sinners now," he mumbled, looking like he had just devoured his favorite meal, "God will forgive you if you just pray it away."
A continuation of the Good Neighbors series. Steve, Eddie, reader, and her son are now all under one roof taking things one day at a time with their taboo little family.
Starcourt Productions has been a prominent figure in adult entertainment since 1982. With shining male performers such as Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson, they’re in need of a new female star.
Eddie’s been performing for several years now and he’s never felt anything remotely romantic for his partners. That is until you come along.
Please don’t take my art and post it elsewhere. I will die.
*contains smut
*Disjointed Series: Nurse!Reader is reunited with her high school crush in the emergency room. In progress
*Embarrassing Series: Emerson!Reader (Gareth’s cousin) is having a hard time fitting in at Hawkins. At Gareth’s request, Y/N tries better to be like everyone else. Eddie reminds her who she is. Completed!
*Eddie’s Mistake: Insecure about his performance, Eddie makes the mistake of turning to gas station pills for help.
Slip of the lip: Abandoned by the rest of Hellfire, Eddie finds a new way to Entertain himself. Shy!reader
In An Emergency: Diabetic!Reader has an episode and Eddie takes care of her.
You move into a new apartment complex with you six year old son while going through a divorce. You meet your sexy neighbors Steve and Eddie who are adorable with your kiddo and both care a lot about you.
Warnings: Steddie Relationship and all that that implies!
Punished - Perv! Steve fic - You’ve been a total brat at college today and Steve decides to put you in your place before your big presentation.
Surprise Screening - Perv! Steve fic - You expected an ordinary night in when you leave Family Video with a lineup of your latest picks but what you don’t realize is that one of the tapes is not like the rest.
Late night visit - Perv! Steve fic - Steve shows up at your house, unannounced, late at night and terribly horny. Sex ensues.
Secrets - What could have been another ordinary night marathoning horror movies in your basement with your closest friend takes a turn when Steve discovers your little secret.
Series
✤Can I watch? - Perv! Steve fic -Your lifelong friend and next-door neighbor watches you masturbate while hiding in your bedroom closet.
✤Use me ( Part 2 of Can I watch?) - Perv! Steve fic -You’ve just caught Steve hiding in your bedroom closet where he’s been jerking off to you. Instead of being appalled and asking him to leave you find that the whole thing turns you on so you encourage him to stay.
❧Caught - Car sex with Steve turns awkward when you end up getting interrupted by one of Hawkins' finest.
❧Consequences (part 2 of Caught) -Your father, the Chief of Police, caught you and your secret boyfriend out in the middle the night screwing in his BMW. By pure dumb luck, he doesn’t bother to check the identity of the mystery girl huddled in Steve Harrington’s lap with her face concealed. You get away- just barely, but will you be able to keep your relationship secret for much longer?
❧Do over (Part 3 of Caught) - Hopper finds out that you’ve been dating Steve Harrington in secret and you’re both left to deal with the aftermath of your father's unfortunate discovery.
✏︎ Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.
While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him.
Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.
✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)
Warnings: Angst, jealousy, mentions of depression & anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of ptsd, physical fight, the boys throw some punches…, slut shaming
Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader // Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: One night is all it took for everything to fall apart. Almost everything.
Author’s note: @prettyboyeddiemunson thank you for helping me with some of the ideas for this part! <3 also, happy valentine’s day!
series masterlist
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As Steve is walking back and forth in his driveway, his mind keeps replaying the scene that happened in front of him mere minutes ago. He is both angry and hurt, his heart is hammering against his ribcage, his throat feels tight, angry tears fall from his eyes. He can’t believe that you kissed Eddie.
You love him, right? You don’t love Eddie, he is sure of that. You and Eddie are nothing but friends– he tries to convince himself of that but the kiss looked nothing like a kiss that was shared between two friends who played a drunken game of truth or dare.
synopsis| A unknowing game of cat and mouse with your younger neighbor, who can't seem to hold on to his house key, leads to feelings you don't want to admit and actions you can't take back. Not that you'd want to, anyway.
an| admittedly I've been working on this far too long, since October to be exact. I wasn't seeing a lot of older!reader fics and as a 26 year old I wanted to explore a dynamic between Eddie and someone older. I hope you enjoy and be ready for part 2 which will be even more filthy than this!
warnings| 7k, eddie is 20-21, female masterbation, eddie is persistent as fuck, stubborn!R, drug use (weed), reader is kinda bitchy but eddie likes it. MDI
“Eddie?”
“Hey, princess. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He smiles at you as a cold gust of wind blows past him and straight into your bones. Behind him the sun is setting into a tangerine colored, cotton candy sky.
“Lose your key again?” You ask, shivering in only a shirt and shorts, huddled behind the screen door with your arms wrapped tight across your chest.
Eddie shrugs sheepishly from the other side of the screen door, but his crooked grin tells you everything you need to know.
"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck as he peers up at you through his lashes with puppy dog eyes. "I think I forgot it at The Hideout last night."
With a sigh and a halfhearted roll of your eyes you motion him in, smiling to yourself as you walk back to the sudsy dish water you had been wrist deep in when he'd first knocked.
"Starting to think maybe you should tie that key of yours around your neck." You quip as he settles himself at the little dinner table tucked into the corner of your kitchen.
It’s not a very big kitchen, smaller than your bedroom even, which means the ‘corner of the kitchen’ is only five feet from the L shaped counter. If you took two steps backwards you’d be in his lap. The thought has your stomach fluttering.
"Uncle Wayne said the same thing." He chuckles. "Says I'm costing him a fortune in key making."
"This is a common occurrence for you, huh?"
"No, not common... maybe like the sixth time…this year."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You laugh, wiping your hands off on the dish towel as you turn towards him. "Remind me not to ever hand you my keys."
He smiles at you with this cheesy grin that makes your stomach flutter like a teenage girls, heat rushing to your face when you notice the way he's sitting.
He’s leaned back in the walnut stained wooden chair, legs spread wide. His already tight black jeans stretched taut over his thick thighs and his worn Black Sabbath shirt has ridden up against the pale skin of his stomach, the dark line of his happy trail catching your eyes. It takes everything in you to look away, to not allow your eyes to stay glued to that sexy tuff of dark hair.
You turn back to drain the sink, willing the heat in your face away.
"Guess who's graduating this year?" He sounds jovial and you just can't help but tease him- just a little. Maybe it’ll ease the tension settling in the air of your kitchen.
"Hello, Eddie. I'm fine, how are you?" You say while you begin wiping the counters down, stepping over his long outstretched legs.
"Come on! Guess!" He urges, leaning forward to bump your elbow with his knuckles. You clench the rag in your hands tighter as you wipe down the stove.
"Well, I don't know any high school boys, other than you, so I'm gonna need a list of names to run through first."
"You're so mean to me." He says with high dramatics, taking the leather jacket he'd left here a couple days ago and tossing it over the back of a different chair.
"Eddie, I let you hang out, smoke you up, and I feed your gangly ass. God, I'm such a horrible, evil person." Your voice runs an edge of seriousness as you tease him, throwing a look over your shoulder in the process.
And, God, maybe you shouldn’t have looked back at him because he’s sitting there with his legs spread wide looking at you with that heavy simmer of his that you've started to notice and ignore. He's become a temptation, one you just can not fold to. It'd be wrong. You're older than him and he's still in high school, anything more than hanging out would leave you feeling dirty.
Unfortunately, you're not quite sure if it's a good kind of dirty or a bad kind.
"You're the worst." He drawls, fiddling with his trusty zippo. "You devilish woman, you."
The way he says it makes your spine tingle, makes you clench your thighs a little and hope he doesn't see.
"You hungry, kid?" Maybe a change in subject will evaporate the building tension in your small kitchen. You dig through the fridge as he sits silently behind you.
"You know I hate it when you call me that." His words mumbled when he finally speaks, sad almost, but he knows what you're doing. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the tension that was building between the two of you.
It starts off innocent enough. Three in the morning, dressed in only your silk robe and a pair of rain boots you'd found by your front door, you had trudged across the small gravel driveway between the two trailers and banged banged banged at the blue painted door. You didn't know your neighbor. You’d only lived in Hawkins a couple months at the time, but you did know that every night from 9 to 11 the sound of a wailing guitar was bound to rattle the fake crystal chandelier hung in your living room. Usually you could manage, put your tape deck on -drown it out- but that night the tinny punch didn't stop when the clock struck eleven or even at midnight. In fact it seemed to get even louder, like the person had turned the amp up, and you were fuming mad.
The door swung open so hard and fast it startled you and before you could chastise the person for making such an unnecessary ruckus, they were already apologizing.
"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't realize how late it was."
"You've been playing for hours, kid. Some of us have to work in the morning."
That anger you had as you stomped over dissipated quickly as you looked at his frazzled expression. He was young, obviously a metal head considering the long hair and all black attire, but his big chocolate brown eyes begged for forgiveness as they blinked back at you.
"I really am sorry, Miss. I'm learning a new song and… I guess I just got carried away." God, poor kid looked like he was about to get cuffed and loaded into the back of a cop car.
"S'fine, just go back to your normal hours. That I can deal with." You start to step down the rickety porch steps before you turn quickly and point your manicured finger at him. His eyes widened. "And don't fucking call me Miss, my name's y/n."
After that he seemed to make it his mission to run into you whenever you weren't locked inside your trailer. From meeting at the mailbox, to offering to mow your grass -which you really didn't have much of- to sitting next to you as you tended to your garden. It wasn't until a stormy cold evening that you invited him in. He said he lost his key and his uncle worked at the plant all night and into the morning. You made him dinner, watched a movie, and set him up on the couch for the night.
“Only this one time.” You'd said. “What do I look like letting a high schooler into my home?”
Eddie loathes when you do that to him, even now, level him down to simply a high schooler.
“I'm twenty.” He'd corrected, going as far as to show you his license. Sure enough he was, but you knew you couldn't let it go past a friendship. The town would think you'd corrupted him, they'd surely run you out with torches and pitchforks. Shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake.
But something was starting to grow between you two. You thought at one point it was merely fondness for the strange kid who spoke in codes half the time and made a show out of everything he did. It didn't take you much longer after that, though, to realize what was really growing. Sprouting the weeds in your chest.
You wanted him.
God, did you feel horrible about that one.
It didn't matter that he was twenty, legal, an adult, there was such innocence inside him. Heart on his sleeve, kindness in his smile. Anything other than friendship was a no go. You'd ruin this kid, you just knew it. You didn't have the best track record with men and the last thing you wanted was to take this young man and break his heart before he could even experience what young love could feel like.
Wasn't happening. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's why you'd call him kid, which he hated passionately and made sure to let you know. Why you wouldn't let him hug you like he begged and begged to do. Shit, it'd probably be easier to put on a chastity belt and call it a day. Every time you pushed him away, he'd barrel back head first. He was incredibly determined.
You were playing a losing battle.
"Sorry, bub. Forget sometimes." You toss halved tomatoes in a bowl of chopped lettuce, moving to place the cutting board and knife in the sink before going back to the fridge.
You could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you bent to look through the crisper, hair standing up on end as you tried your hardest not to look back at him. You know what you'd see if you did and the last time you'd caught him staring the tarry blackness of his wide pupils almost knocked you to your knees.
"Are you hungry, though?" You ask again, clearing your throat as you straighten your back and shut the fridge door. You make it a point not to look at him as you head back to the counter, an onion in one hand and a small pack of steaks in the other.
"Steak? Okay, I take back what I said before. You're an angel sent from heaven to save me."
"Ha, maybe in your dreams." You try to joke back but you can feel his body heat again as he squats down beside you to grab the cast iron skillet from the cabinet. He puts it on the stove and smiles up at you. You hadn’t even heard him stand from the chair.
"Always in my dreams, sugar."
His words send that sickly sweet rush of heat down into the pit of your belly. Your body so starved for a release it actually hurts.
Why does he have to make this so hard?
"So you're gonna graduate this year, huh?" Change the subject. Ignore the stupid fucking glint in his pretty brown eyes. It's starting to become a routine, really.
"I got a C in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, which isn't great I know, but it's enough for me to walk the stage." He raises back to his full height, looking down at you with that little smirk of his, watches as you peel the pale skin of the onion. "Will you come to graduation?"
You can't hide how his question surprises you, hands freezing against the clean cutting board, eyebrows furrowing together.
"I really want you to." He adds, closing in on you.
"Won't your uncle think it's weird some stranger is coming to watch his kid cross the stage?"
"He knows about you."
You drop the onion onto the board and it rolls off the counter when you turn to him.
"He knows about me? What's that mean?"
Eddie shrugs, so much closer than you expected him to be. You can smell the hint of smoke on his denim vest, see the deep vines of brown swirling his eyes. "I told him where I was that night I lost my key. He has this weird thing about me sleeping in my van, he hates it for some reason, so when he asked I just told him the truth."
"And?"
"And nothing." He laughs. "Why are you worried about what my uncle thinks?"
"Uh, because he's your guardian and I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage or-or corrupting you."
Eddie bursts out in laughter, head falling forward into your shoulder before he's leaning back and wiping under his eye as if there's a tear.
"God, sweetheart, you should be worried about the opposite. You haven't heard?" He leans in and narrows his eyes menacingly. His breath wafts over your cheek as he speaks. "I'm the town pariah. The town freak. Nobody is worried about ‘The Corruption of Eddie Munson’."
“That’s not true.” Your voice is a hush whisper as you answer back, trying your hardest not to choke on your own damn tongue. You’re locked onto his unwavering gaze, his body unyielding as he steps closer somehow. Fuck, he’s so close, if you just lean up a couple inches your lips could capture his.
No. Nope. Not happening.
You lean away as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair behind your ear and the simple touch -the simple intimacy of the gesture- sends shivers across your hot skin.
“Eddie.” You warn softly and he grins sheepishly.
“Sorry, I can’t help myself.” His breathing is still a little shallow.
“Eddie.”
“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, far enough that he’s not almost pressed against you anymore but still close enough to feel the heat radiate off his body.
“Can you rinse the onion for me?”
With a nod he ducks to pluck the runaway vegetable from the floor before heading for the sink. He flips the tap on with a long finger and the hum of running water does nothing to drown the racing of your brain.
After a quiet dinner you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, a rerun of Murder, She Wrote playing on the TV. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed he’d brought to share with you and you find yourself leaning against the backrest of the couch, eyes glued to him as he takes a big bong rip.
“You really want me to come?” You ask, voice soft and airy, and Eddie hacks as his head whips toward you. He looks like a cartoon bull with the way the smoke shoots from his nostrils.
“Huh?” He manages as he splutters, clutching the neckline of his shirt as if that would fill his lungs with air.
“Do you really want me to come to graduation?” You ask again, handing your drink over to him and patting his back. He chugs the whole glass of Coca Cola, panting when he’s done.
“Fuck, I hit that too hard.”
“You’re about to be comatose off that hit.” You laugh, taking the glass as he hands it back to you. He settles back into the cushions with a lopsided grin on his face.
“Just what I wanted.” He chimes, his black lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes close. “What’d you ask me?”
You go to repeat yourself before noticing just how soft his features have become, sleep inevitably pulling at him. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think as you stand from the couch.
“Go to sleep, Ed.” You whisper into the dim lit room, covering him with the blanket that had become balled up in his lap.
“M’kay, nightie night.” He tucks his knees to his chest, nuzzling his face into the fabric of the couch and then he’s out, soft snores fluttering the stray string clinging to the blanket.
Sleep doesn’t come easy, like most nights. You spend hours laying there in the dark, watching the way the moon light reflects off your crystal window chime and sends arcs of purple candescent rays across your walls and ceiling. The tossing and turning comes next, an hour spent tracing the rays with your eyes has become boring and the lack of sleep makes your eyes heavy. Of course they aren’t heavy enough to allow you to succumb to the sleep you desperately long for.
Usually you’d reach for your little friend tucked away in your bedside drawer but with Eddie just down the very short hall, you don’t want to chance your noisy little friend waking up the meddlesome boy sleeping on your couch.
Eddie. The reminder of him shoots through you like an arrow, mind hastily rewinding to the way he all but cornered you in the kitchen earlier. The way your heart stuttered in your chest and your fingers ached to pull him by the collar of that stupid ripped Black Sabbath shirt until his lips were pressed against yours.
Okay. Stop.
You can’t think about him this way. He’s young, a good couple years younger in fact, there was no way you could allow these thoughts.
But if they are only thoughts, who do they really hurt? You won’t act on them, you know better than that. Know you can’t get wrapped up with the twenty year old super senior, not when you came here to specifically get away from the drama of your past. No. You have to be good. Have to resist his infallible charm. You need to turn over, close your eyes, and be good.
Yet your hand still wanders past the hem of your panties, down across the silky skin that lays underneath them. Your fingertip finds your clit immediately and your body jerks at the sensitivity of that little bundle of nerves, a surprised gasp leaving your lips in a rush.
Down the hall, bundled on the couch, Eddie coughs.
In your bed you lay frozen, heart pounding and ears listening intently. There’s no way you woke him up, not with just a gasp. You continue to listen for any other noise for a minute or two, heart steadily thumping and your fingers twitching at the anticipation of what you’re about to do because let's be real here. If you don’t come soon, you might actually implode.
Feeling safe to move forward in your little quest, you guide your fingers back down, teasing a trail through your wet folds.
His fingers would feel so much better. It’s not a helpful thought, not when you’re trying to think of anyone but him.
Fuck, okay.
Patrick Swayze in that tight black shirt in The Outsiders. No. Scratch that. Matt Dillion as Dallas in The Outsiders, all rough and tumble. Just what you like in a man. A little rough around the edges but a good soul.
You press tight circles on your aching bud, arch your chest into your hand as it slips under your loose nightie, pulling at your pebbled nipple. You can’t help the soft moan that floats out, can’t help the rut of your hips into your palm as you slip two fingers into your heat. You imagine Matt Dillon laying you down on the bed, burying his face between your thighs.
Oh, fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t a marathon; it’s a sprint.
Your body so pint up and begging for some sort of release you’re on the precipice in no time at all. Your body is on fire, hips canting wildly, you think maybe your bed is squeaking but you don’t care. Fuck, you can’t care. Not when you’re so close. Just a little closer.
Your imaginary scenario shifts suddenly and unexpectedly in your mind. Sexy Matt Dillion erased as Eddie’s face engulfs your vision completely. His beautiful face, those big strong hands of his, the tattoos, that little strip of black hair that leads down down down into his pants.
You come with a cry, shocking and loud, and you clamp your hand across your mouth as your eyes screw tightly, brow pinching together almost painfully.
His words from earlier replay as your body rocks through your orgasm in one vicious wave after another.
"You devilish women, you.”
Your thighs, trembling and slick, clamp around your own hand when you’ve had too much. Body relaxes into your silk sheets as you breathe slowly. But you’re filled with this zing like pins and needles from your fingertips to your toes and your mind is racing, and why the fuck did your brain betray you like that?
You feel it then, the soft call of sleep. The flutter of your eyes as you fight to keep them open. The trailer is silent besides the rough Illinois winds as they beat a lone branch against the roof. You roll over in your bed, nuzzle deep into the blankets. You’ll deal with whatever that was tomorrow or the next day. Or never. You take one last peek at your room, still a soft lavender hue, purple moonlight, before sleep takes over.
You don’t even notice the fact that your bedroom door had been left open just a crack.
Eddie is gone when you wake up the next morning, the sun casting its early morning rays into your windows. The only proof he was even there is the blanket he slept with the night before sloppily folded on the arm of the couch. You don’t think much of his earlier departure. He’s a busy guy running full steam ahead towards his graduation. So you go about your day as normal. Coffee made, a small breakfast of yogurt and some berries you wished you’d grown on your own. You tidy up from the night before, washing the dinner dishes and making a list you shove into the depths of your purse. You need to stop by the store after work, get dinner for the next couple nights.
The day goes on like so; slow and laborious. You try your hardest not to think about Eddie, try to place him at the back of your mind. You go through work at the Hawkins Journal mindlessly. Walk the colorful aisles of the grocery store with glazed eyes.
By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. It’s late, nearing seven, and the place where Eddie’s van calls home is empty. You assume he’s off doing ‘Eddie Things’ as you called his extracurricular activities that were not of the legal kind.
You decide to start dinner instead, talking to your friend from back home as you cook.
“Any new love interests?” She asks at one point, voice giddy with hope. It’d been a year or so since you broke up with your toxic ex and about nine months since you’d arrived in Hawkins with no interesting suitors.
“Nope, not one.” You rattle off as you stir your boiling water and pasta.
“Bullshit.” She says under her breath before she repeats herself, louder this time. More accusatory. “That’s bullshit. Nine months and not one guy you’re interested in? Did moving to that Podunk town automatically make you a nun?”
You laugh at this, rolling your eyes as if she could see.
“No, it didn't make me a nun. But most of these guys are married. Or boring. Or married and boring. Or..”
“Or?” She catches your avoidance, the tone you held as you trailed off from your former sentence.
“Or… nothing.” You avoid it as you strain your pasta.
“Babe.” She says sternly.
“Fuck. Or they're too young.” You plop the strained pasta unceremoniously in the pasta sauce and throw the white plastic strainer into the sink.
“Young? How young are we talking?” Her voice is fully scandalized and you can only imagine the bright smile she's wearing.
“20.” You sigh, leaning your hip against the counter as you stir with one hand and hold the phone against your ear with the other. “My neighbor. He’s…. He’s trouble.”
“Oh, so he’s your type, is what you’re telling me.” She chimes and you roll your eyes once again.
“No. He’s trouble for me. He’s a good guy. Kid. Person.” Another sigh from you as your friend chuckles.
“Oh, you are so bad off.” A giggle, then, “He’s legal, just go for it. You know, the world would be better if you got laid. You’d be less tense.”
“No. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet.” You say.
“He’s 20 and he hasn’t graduated high school?”
“He’s not stupid.”
“I didn’t say he was.” Her tone makes your skin crawl. She can tell -over the phone, miles away- just how defensive her question made you.
“He’s just a kid.” You say again, mostly to yourself.
“Babe, he’s twenty.”
“So what, I should just fuck him?” Your voice is getting higher, temper is starting to build. There’s no reason to get so worked up, you know your friend means well, but you know you can’t go there with Eddie. You’d just ruin him. You weren’t good at relationships.
“Calm down. I’m just saying. If you want it and he wants it and you are both legal consenting adults, what's the issue?”
“It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of him.” You mutter, abandoning your bubbling pasta to look out your window towards Eddie’s trailer. The van is still gone but now his uncle Wayne’s truck sits out front.
“Jesus, babe. You’re clinging on to this warped moral high ground you have with your pinkies. Just let go. Live for once. I thought that's why you moved out there anyway. To live your own life however you want.”
“It is.”
“Then fucking live it.”
Your friends' words worm their way into your brain, spreading like a disease. You get high to quiet the voice but that doesn’t work like you want. You end the night curled up on the couch with your book, not even reading the words on the page. No. All you can do is think about Eddie and those four damned words.
Then fucking live it
The days fade into even colder nights. You don’t see Eddie as much as you normally do, but he comes over every now and then to catch you up on how busy he’s been. He’s looking at you differently now, eyes lingering for too long. You don’t notice it at first, his constant heavy stare, more intense then his usual playful one and always on you.
He’s touching you more. Something your brain noticed after the fifth time the back of his hand grazed across your arm or hip or thigh. It made your whole body light up like a fucking Christmas tree.
His birthday whirls around. 21. He gets so drunk you find him laid out on his porch on your trip to the mailbox the next morning. His uncle sits on the steps smoking a cigarette, a fond smile on his face.
He’s back to losing his key and hanging around your trailer by the time graduation comes around. You watch him walk the stage in his green cap and gown, sitting right next to his uncle who sheds a silent tear. Eddie flips his principle the bird after snatching his diploma from his hands. A group of kids cheers rowdily to the left of you, whooping and hollering, and Eddie stands at the edge of the stage with his arms spread wide soaking it all in.
You don’t expect to see him that night, figured he’d be too busy partying with his friends, so it comes as a shock when there's a knock at your door quarter past eleven.
“Hey, princess.” He says when you answer the door. He’s leaning against your porch railing with a distinct smile on his face. It reads trouble and you are absolutely smitten.
“Hey, you. What’s up?” The screen door between you two does nothing to block the early spring breeze from invading your trailer.
“Lost my key.” He says simply.
“Oh, you did, huh?” You bite back the smile that wants to break across your face. You can tell he’s lying. Can see the little twinkle in his chocolate buttons eyes.
“Misplaced the damn thing again.”
“You have a problem, Ed.”
“I need your help, Miss.”
It nearly knocks you off your feet, the tremor in his voice, the desperate pleading cut with a playfulness that short circuits your brain. Eddie smirks, hand reaching towards the door handle. You beat him to it, locking the screen door as he goes to pull it open.
“What do you want, Eddie? I’m about to go to bed.” The tension is too much. If you let him in…
If you let him in, nothing will be able to stop you.
“You’re just gonna let me freeze out here?” He whines, dramatically shivering in his leather jacket, vest, and red flannel.
“Nice try.” You step back, starting to close the inner door when his hand slaps against the aluminum siding of your trailer, trying his hardest to catch your attention before you fully shut him out.
“I'm starving. I-I’ll sleep in my van but can I just borrow some bread, and peanut butter, and maybe some jelly?”
And just like that, you finally feel some semblance of control over this boy who makes it his goal to drag the desire out of its dark hidey hole deep within your chest.
Except, it’s not that deeply hidden. Not now. Not after all this time fighting to not feel this way for him. You know you shouldn’t let him in. He’s in a mood, you could tell the second you saw him, and you’re so pent up and horny you're destined to snap. To give in to this unholy feeling that's slowly suffocating you.
But he’s hungry and he’s pouting and giving you those lost puppy eyes…
You unlock the screen door and walk to the kitchen, knowing he’ll trail behind. He always does.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my stomach was gonna eat itself.”
You slam through your cabinets and fridge as he stands in the center of your small kitchen. You carry your small load to the kitchen table, dropping the food into a messy pile. Bread, lunch meat, lettuce and tomato, a jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of mustard.
“You can make it yourself, ya?” You ask and Eddie nods happily.
“So much better than a PB&J.” He says excitedly, sitting down at the table. You hand him a plate and a knife and decide now would be a good time to finish washing your dinner dishes.
Time passes quietly. The steady voices from the TV, Eddie’s soft groaning as if this sandwich is the best thing he’s ever eaten. It’s not as difficult to control yourself as you thought it was. But of course, you two aren’t speaking. The mood changes when Eddie opens his mouth.
“Can I have a drink?” He asks hesitantly, mouth half full and a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth as he chews.
You pop open the fridge and grab one of the sodas you’d bought for him a couple weeks ago. You set it in front of him with a gentle smile.
“Thanks.”
It’s a quiet dance, the way his hand somehow brushes your bare leg as you walk back towards the sink. You know he hears the way your breath hitches. Know he has his eyes on you even with your back turned.
He’s cleaned up his mess by the time you’re done with the dishes, wiping your hands off on a dish towel when he makes his way back from the bathroom. You can faintly smell your mouth wash on his breath as he leans next to you to place his plate in the sink.
“I’ll wash it.” He says, looking down at you with a brazen look. The control you felt earlier instantly dissipates.
“Okay.”
“You look nice.”
You roll your eyes at this, partially because it didn’t take him very long to fall back into his flirting but also because these little words really do something for you. All bets are off. If he pushes again there's no doubt you’ll give.
“Just a shirt and shorts.” You say back as he rinses the plate off.
“Still,” When he’s down he collapses in the kitchen chair with a grunt, digging for his cigarettes he knows he can’t smoke in your house. “I think you look beautiful. Always.”
“Are you full?” You decide to change the subject.
“Very. Thank you.” He's quiet for a minute, flicking the wheel on his Zippo as he stares at you. And then, “I’d make you feel better than anyone ever has.”
You hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare feet kicking against the pale yellow cabinet door, eyes lingering on him from where he sits. His legs are splayed wide, the muscles in his thighs straining against the overly washed black denim.
“Getting ahead of yourself there, bud.”
“Am I?” He asks as he sits up slowly, moves as lithe as a snake sizing up its prey. In an instant his whole demeanor has changed. He settles his elbows on his knees, levels you with a pensive look. His dark eyes narrow, but his grin widens and the contrast between the two makes you shiver.
“You are.”
“I’m not a virgin.” He says back quickly, a bite to his voice that doesn’t go amiss and you chuckle. He doesn’t like that, you can see it in the way his eyebrows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose.
“Never said you were. You’re just young, Eddie, and I’m not a high school girl who doesn’t know any better.” Okay, so maybe you weren’t going to allow yourself to give in so easily. Where’s the fun in that?
He chuckles dryly as he raises from his seat. He steps in front of you, not touching, but his hands fist at his sides like he wants to. Like he longs for it.
“Bold of you to assume I even mess with those high school girls.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, the groupies that hang out at The Hideout? Wait at the stage to tell you how good you are with your fingers?” There’s more bite to your words than you intend but if it fazes him he doesn’t seem to show it. His hot rough palms find the chilly hills of your kneecaps, his eyes flickering down to the exposed skin as he smooths his thumb there, before he’s locked back onto your withering gaze.
“You sound jealous, Sweetheart.”
And you laugh at this, a quick belly laugh that has your head falling back against the cabinet behind you. You laugh because you are fucking jealous and you hate yourself for it. You shouldn't be jealous of your freshly twenty-one year old neighbor burying his cock into a pussy that isn't yours. But fuck, it sears through you like a hot knife, made even worse as he eclipses the space that's left between you two.
“I’m not jealous.” You scoff while your body is ravaged with the flames of his touch. “I’m sure you’ve fucked any girl that let you put your hands up her skirt. But I’m not some easy little girl.”
“A woman.” His voice is entirely mocking as he ignores the hateful crassness in your words.
“Yeah, a woman, and it takes more than some sloppy head and eager dick to make me come.”
He settles himself between your legs, hands sliding up the expanse of your thighs until his fingertips dig into the flesh right below the hem of your little sleep shorts. He leans in, the smell of the weed he must have smoked before he came over lingering on his clothes and hair; the smell strong enough to have you feeling intoxicated.
Or, maybe that was all him.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” You want to wipe that smug grin away, slap him across his pretty face so he stops this before it goes too far, but one quick intrusive thought sends your mind into a tizzy.
He’d like it. Little fucking masochist.
“I’m not some innocent little kid, baby, I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t remember your name.”
As sexy as he sounds, as good as it sounds, you roll your eyes at his self assuredness. This sweet boy, the same boy that's confided in you about his past with tear filled eyes and spent hours blabbing about his DnD campaigns, saying he’d fuck you like an animal just feels so absurd. Yet it arouses you just as much, has your panties damp and sticking to your slick folds.
“You say that to all the girls you fuck?”
“See; jealous.” He hisses back, eyes so dark and blown wide you can barely see their beautiful umber color.
“Not jealous.” You shake your head, eyes begging to look away from his intense stare down, but you can’t. You’re trapped in his hypnotic slow blink as his eyes flash to your pursed lips.
“I think you’re lying.” He argues, a harsh whisper as his head tips against yours. Your breath leaves in a choked rush when he nuzzles his nose into the side of your head, teeth nipping your earlobe.
“Eddie.” You warn weakly, your hand splayed against his firm chest as you go to push him away, but Eddie has other ideas. He snatches your wrist up in a tight grip, guiding your hand slowly down his stomach until you're cupping his hard bulge. He’s hot under your touch and you both gasp in unison when he squeezes your hand against the heavy ridge of him under his denim.
“Eddie…” You try again halfheartedly, head knocking against his as his cock twitches at the breathy whimper of his name.
“Do you see what you do to me? You make me so hard." He rolls his hips up, drags his hard cock over your palm. His moan rumbles like thunder in his chest. “Want you so bad, I know you want me too.”
“It’s not gonna happen, Eddie.” You whisper back, try with all your might to steel yourself, to make your words sound steady and sure. You want to. Fuck, you really really want to. But there's still that part of you attempting to resist the burning flames of desire. “You’re a kid.”
“I’m not a fucking kid.” He growls, grips the underside of your knees to drag you further into him. You can feel him against the inside of your thigh, hot and pulsing and begging to be touched.
“It’s wrong, Eddie, please.” Your hands are braced against the counter as he presses his forehead to yours, pushes against you until your back is arched. Your core presses against his cock in the most agonizing way in this new position, stealing the breath from your lungs as he hovers his lips over yours.
“But it feels so good. Stop pushing me away. I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart.” His teeth drag quickly against your bottom lip and as he pulls away you chase after unconsciously, needing his touch -his taste- as much as he needs yours.
“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me. I have morals, you know.” You’re whining, head rolling to the side as he slowly starts to grind his hips into yours.
“Oh, your poor morals.” His hand is gripping your jaw in an instant, fingertips digging almost too roughly into the soft hollow of your cheeks. “You’re so sure you’re gonna corrupt me, which is laughable. Don’t you see, baby?” Eddie soothes his thumb across your bottom lip, drags it down till it bounces gently back in place.
“I want you to corrupt me. Use me. Teach me everything you know, everything you want, so you’ll never need anyone but me.”
His words hit you square in the chest but he doesn’t give you a second to interrupt. He has a point to prove and nothing will stop him now.
“I know you feel it, this thing between us that I felt the moment I saw you in that sexy little robe and your muddy rain boots. That night changed everything for me. You’re the only person who really sees me. I know it. Just like I know how hard it’s been for you. Resisting me, telling yourself how wrong it is and then moaning my name when you touch yourself in the dark of your room while I’m right down the hall. You can’t deny the cold hard truth, Sweetheart.”
Your eyes widen as you pull away from him. He lets you create space, lets you digest the bomb he just dropped on you. He’d heard you that night. You’d been so careful, so quiet. At least you thought you had.
“Tell me you want me. Let me make you feel good, baby. I know you need it. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Since someone has touched you; since someone made you come.” He’s so sure of himself. So sure that he’s hit the proverbial nail on the head. That he’s got you all figured out. You’re torn between giving him credit for being so observant and being pissed that he’s using it against you. But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by someone. So long since you’ve felt a touch other than your own and here he was offering himself up on a silver platter with the promise of rocking your world.
What was the use in fighting something that you both equally wanted? Two consenting adults giving in to the burning flames of desire.
“Eddie-” He cuts you off quickly, his hips still against you, his hands digging into your fleshy hips.
“Please, give me a chance.” His voice begs, thick with need and worry. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone if you say no. He’s well aware that the words leaving his mouth and the grip he has on you changes everything.
“Eddie.” You grab him by the tattered collar of his flannel, pull him in until your lips brush his. “Shut up and kiss me already.”
He wastes no time slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You kiss him back, waiting for him to slow his pace, to calm down a little, but he just presses himself closer and grips the back of your neck in a shaky hold. The blunt crescent of his fingernails digs into the sensitive skin of your neck. His other hand leaves its bruising grip on your hip to hold you tight to him, chest to chest, hearts pounding in tandem against one another.
You let him lead, let him find his groove. Sloppy wet kisses turn slow and true, his nose bumping yours, his tongue licking into your mouth tantalizingly. The first time he does it you whimper, sure that if you had been standing you would have been weak in the knees. But you’re still locked onto the counter top, thighs clenched tightly around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into the backs of his thighs. You fought this for so long. One taste and now you’re not sure if you can let him go.
But that’s something to think about another time and not when Eddie has a handful of your breast, thumb rolling tight circles around your pebbled nipple that pokes through the fabric of your shirt.
“I knew you fucking wanted me.” He teases once he pulls away, a string of spit collected against kiss swollen lips. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are ruddy and he looks so god damn beautiful in the soft lighting of your kitchen.
You know there's no stopping you now. No going back. You were always just preventing the inevitable. You want him, you always have, and here he is serving himself up on a silver platter.
Steve looks up from where he's washing dishes, at his boyfriend who is now much closer than he was a moment ago, and just blinks as Eddie stares at him in earnest.
"Uh, yeah? I know how to whistle."
"Can you show me?"
Normally, Steve would think a request like that is weird, but as Steve has learned, Eddie is weird, and questions like this have become a pretty normal part of Steve's day.
So he shrugs and goes to whistle, but as soon as he purses his lips, Eddie strikes. He pushes into Steve's space and kisses him, just a sweet, chaste peck on the mouth, and then he pulls back with a beaming grin.
"Got you," he says, and Steve is blushing, almost flustered over the simple action, and he pushes Eddie away with his elbow.
"That was so fucking dumb, and I hate that it worked," he says, and Eddie just cackles as he heads out of the room.
Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.
(18+ only)
Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Steve Harrington x You
You know the rules. You'd been there when your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, discussed them with the others. There are only two.
Number one: Only play when everyone's together.
Number two: No finishing inside each other's girls.
You'd agreed to these rules, same as Chrissy. Same as Eddie.
But then there's rule number three, and though it remains unspoken, it's by far the most important.
And you have that feeling again, like when you propped yourself up against the barstool, straining to see him on that stage, craning for a glimpse as his husky voice reached inside you. Now, his dark eyes are doing the same thing: pulling at something buried deep, tugging it into the light where it can't be hidden.
And, sure, of course, you didn't intend this. But what are intentions in the face of such things?
Needless to say, every rule gets broken.
modern!au, fem!reader, chubby!reader, body insecurity, swingers, group sex, dirty talk, praise kink, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
2087
origamiaround
titsay
