:-)

18+ . she/her About Me . Masterlist I am on hiatus due to college

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Temporary Hiatus

Hello! I'm in the process of moving at the moment so I won't be online and writing for about a week or two. I'm not sure how long the move and settling in will actually take so I don't know when exactly I'll be back. So, sorry in advance for any inactivity/lack of response from me !! I promise I'll get back to anyone who interacts with me as soon as I can :]

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How The Tables Have Turned

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Vampire!AFAB!Reader (Fluff, Smut)

Summary: You’ve had a hard life as a vampire. When you meet Eddie, your entire world turns upside down.

Word Count: 6.6k (I have a problem)

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only, Reader Is Old (But Looks ~20-21), Reader Is Kind Of A Perv (And Also A Stalker With A Hint Of Obsessive Thoughts For Flavour), Hand & Finger Kink, Light Humiliation (Eddie Makes Reader Beg), Oral (M Receiving), A Little Switch!Eddie & Switch!Reader, Thigh Riding, Biting, Blood Drinking

A/N: I know we’re all horny for Vampire!Eddie, but here’s some Vampire!Reader for your consideration… There’s a lot of personal headcanons about vampires in this that don’t really align with traditional vampire rules, if that’s something you care about.

In my update, when I said this was 2k words more than I thought it would be? I lied. It’s more like 4k. I thought this would end up 1.5-2k at most, I have no idea why or how I wrote so much extra.

Sorry it's kinda late, Tumblr was being a pain in the ass and not letting me log in on my computer.

@pixiehollands You asked to be tagged when I finished! :]

Masterlist

It’s been a rough hundred years. And, if you’re being completely honest, it’s been a rough life. You’ve gone through every terrible supernatural experience, from demon bites to being swallowed whole by a sea monster and even being seduced by a succubus. Okay, maybe that wasn’t so bad. Vampires are kind of the punching bags of the otherworldly creatures; too human to be monster, too monster to be human.

Before you were disowned, you were untouchable. And, now? You’re worth less than the dumb demon bats that swarm the other dimension. All you wanted was a break, a single decade without being targeted by the supernatural. And you got it.

Just… not in the way you’d wanted.

Humans. Stupid little humans and their silly little wooden stakes and silver bullets. Hunters are like children with toothpicks; they rarely get the kill. This particular group has been trailing you for the past four years. Never close, yet never far. This week, they’d chased you to a dense wood that works out perfectly for you. It’s not so great for them. The forest perfectly conceals you. The shadows and lush foliage provide perfect hiding spots. And, if you’re feeling especially lazy, you can hide by climbing a tree. Those idiots never look up.

It’s been a few days since you entered the forest. You’ve caught a few deer to satisfy your thirst, but animal blood isn’t as nutritious as human blood. Aside from the Hunters, there are no humans here– faint traces of hormones here, a few droplets of old blood there, but nothing substantial. You’d found a strangely-shaped rock that smelled strongly of lust, so overpowering that you had to leave.

Then, you smell him. A human, yes, but not a normal one. Something about his blood– it’s intoxicating. Swiftly, you travel through the forest, wanting to see the man whose blood calls to the most primal parts of your brain.

After about a thousand yards, you come across a table. Wait– A thousand yards? You’ve never been able to smell a human from that far. Perplexed, you turn your head from side to side, attempting to figure out where you are. You don’t think you’ve ever been to this part of the forest before. There’s a lot of different scents, indicating the frequency of foot traffic in this area. Yea… that explains why you haven’t come here.

A little intimidated at the thought of being seen, you decide to turn back to the hidden depths when he pushes through the thicket. A zap of fear shoots through your spine, and you dive for the trees. He turns his head in your direction, narrowing his eyes but not moving.

You stand as still as possible, not wanting him to investigate. Luckily, it seems he’s over his moment of suspicion. You watch, enraptured, as he finishes the distance to the table and swings his leg over the bench.

The chain on his jeans rattles with the movement, and the metallic clinking sounds like music to your ears. His hair is messy and unstyled– something your family would’ve mauled you over; after all, image is everything in the supernatural world. His jewelry is silver, which you’ve always found ugly —probably because you’re deathly allergic to the metal— but it’s so attractive on him. And, you haven’t even mentioned his eyes.

He’s absolutely fascinating.

The metal box he carries has a peculiar scent to it. Quietly, you sniff the air, attempting to get a better whiff, but to no avail. Your senses are consumed by the unique smell of his blood, sweat, and hormones. You’re not surprised, though. Vampires aren’t built to detect unnatural odors.

Not that you mind, anyways, just a hint of his scent in the air could make your day. You’ve had the blood of countless humans, but none of them can even compare to his. And, the craziest part? You haven’t even had a drop. Yet, your instincts scream loudly at you: this man has the sweetest blood you’ll ever taste. Don’t let him go.

You’ve never had such a visceral reaction to blood before. Sure, you need it to survive, but it’s never been a pleasure to take. With this man, your mind conjures up multiple lewd images of feeding off him that would make the most promiscuous beau blush. You, yourself, can feel a heat in your cheeks that wasn’t there before. How embarrassing, getting flustered over a simple man.

Then again, he is the most magnificent human you’ve ever seen.

Overwhelmed with your thoughts, you don’t realize you’re lowering your fangs until too late. Now, it’s really embarrassing. You’re so invested in the idea of a stranger’s blood that your body has prepared to bite. This juvenile lack of control over your fangs hasn’t happened since you were about seventy-five years old.

You need to leave before you make a fool of yourself. With one last longing glance, you glide quietly into the familiar shadows of the forest.

You resist the temptation to return to that run-down table the next day. His blood didn’t even smell that good, you attempt to rationalize, it’s just been too long since I’ve had human blood. Any human would smell that sweet.

The mantra works for about two more days before curiosity gets the best of you. Returning, you can smell the remains of his odor through the hundreds of others. Just the stale scent is enough to make your mouth water, and you know you weren’t wrong about his blood.

You hide behind the same tree as before and wait. For hours you stand until you can take no more. It was foolish to believe he’d be back. You shouldn’t have indulged in your fantasy, regardless. Humans are bad news. He’d probably kill you if he knew what you are.

Dejected, you turn to leave when a deliciously fresh scent fills your nostrils. A haze comes over your mind, pleased to recognize the man from before. Looking back, you hide again as he hops onto the tabletop and checks his watch. His arms rest on his knees as he sighs, more of a huff than a gentle exhale. He exudes agitation, the smell permeates the surrounding air.

Finally, a second man arrives. You know before he even comes into view because you can detect him from a mile away. At least the fascinating man’s animosity smells enticing. This newcomer smells disgusting– absolutely foul, like deception, desperation, and rubber. “Freak!” he calls loudly, catching the man's attention.

Your human— no, the original man replies, “Y’know I’m startin’ to think you call me freak ‘cause you never learned my real name,” he holds out his hand with a smug grin, “Eddie Munson, absolutely terrible to meet you.”

Eddie. How quaint. It’s perfect for him. Not that you’d know or even care. His name is irrelevant. He’s just a vessel for blood, a living meal to you.

The foul man scoffs, then fishes money out of his green jacket’s pocket. “For the… stuff,” he says, hesitating slightly.

He holds out the cash, which Eddie swipes harshly, laughing, “You can say ‘weed,’ nobody’s out here but us.” Wrong. “You’re lucky I even showed. Last-minute calls aren’t usually my thing.”

“Well, then, why are you here,” the foul man spits aggressively. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. How dare he talk to Eddie that way? Not that you care…

Eddie holds up the money and waves it in his face, “This is one month's rent, right here. Which reminds me, why the hell are you buying so much weed?”

“It’s for a party. You wouldn’t know because you’re too much of an outcast to be invited to one,” the foul man retorts, watching Eddie like a hawk as he fumbles around in the metal box.

“Not true,” Eddie comments, unbothered, “I go to parties all the time. Great place to sell weed.” Finally finding what he was looking for, he holds up a baggy. It smells much more substantial out of the box, and you realize this is the peculiar smell you’d discovered earlier in the week.

The foul man snatches the bag in the same harsh way Eddie had taken his money and turns without another word. Eddie calls out, “Not even a thank you? I busted my ass to get here, y’know!”

“Fuck you!”

Eddie snickers, shouting, “Love you, too!” at the man’s retreating form. He receives a hand gesture in kind. The middle finger, which, as you understand it, is some sort of insult in their culture. How odd.

In fact, the entire exchange was odd. Why did the foul man waste his money when there are weeds everywhere? He could just pick them up off the ground if he wanted some. But then that begs the question, why would someone want weeds anyways? Maybe it’s a cultural thing you can’t understand as a vampire? It’s all very confusing to you.

Eddie’s moving again, drawing your attention back to his hands. The money shuffles through his fingers as he counts the bills until he’s satisfied. Excited, he throws his hand up in the air, holding the cash up and throwing his head back, exclaiming “woo!” into the cool forest air. The corner of your mouth lightly upturns. You never knew humans could be so entertaining. Your family always told you they’re dangerous and uncivilized.

Just like his sudden arrival, he abruptly leaves. Gone too soon, but judging by his scent ingrained in the wooden slats of the bench, he’ll be coming back. Your body feels like it’s alight with energy as you leave. The gentle buzz in your bones is an excellent reminder of the man you’ve been observing. Yes, just observing…

You end up ‘observing’ him for weeks. The tree you chose the first time you stumbled across him is your favourite spot to watch. The reason why? It has the best view of him. The best view of his hair, and his eyes, and his hands adorned with rings of gleaming, dangerous silver. It’s so, so bad, the way you think about him.

A few times, you were almost caught. An accidental sniff here, a light twig snap there. He seems to regard the tree you’ve claimed with uncertainty, giving it a wide berth when he walks through the little clearing. It’s better this way, he won’t find you, and you’ll be able to watch him until he dies.

Today, you arrived earlier than usual. Boredom had consumed your mind hours ago. It appears the Hunters decided to take a break today, so you’d spent most of it making daisy chains and trying to catch animals to put said chains on them. Let’s just say it’s a blessing you’re incapable of getting rabies.

You have two daisy chains left, both the perfect size for a human-sized flower crown. Or, a fox-sized necklace, but you don’t dare to try that again. After some not-so-careful consideration, you impulsively place one of the chains onto Eddie’s side of the table.

Returning to the tree, you hold your flower crown to your chest. If he wears his, you’d be matching! Then, the realization sets in that he’ll know someone is watching him, but it’s too late. He saunters in, placing the metal box –which you’ve since learned is a lunchbox– on the table next to the flowers.

He lifts the flower crown with his pointer finger, examining the delicate chain. “Hello,” Eddie calls out, “Is anyone there?” You don’t respond. Flipping open the lid of his box, he drops the flowers into an empty space and sits down.

Today he’s visited by some repeat customers and one new boy. He looks, and quite frankly smells, young. Eddie’s reluctant to give the teenager some of his weeds, instead spending the time educating the young man on alternative activities he could be doing.

Throughout his deals, you smile softly at his antics, hopelessly clutching onto the tree's bark. You feel like a princess from a human fairytale: you’ve stumbled across a handsome man in the forest, and admiring him from afar, you swoon like a lovesick puppy. He’s just so…

No.

No, he’s the kind of human your family warned you about when you were a child. Crass, careless, cheeky, far too confident, caring enough to make his buyers comfortable around him, with an intelligence that’s concealed behind a smug grin and lazy demeanor. Damnit, why are you so attracted to him?

His blood drew you in, but everything else about him made you stay. There have been others, those who visit the table to buy weeds– again, you’re not sure why anyone would do such a thing when they’re free everywhere in the forest– but, back on topic. The others have never had the same effect on you.

Being around him is like a hit of adrenaline, your skin tingles, your tummy twists and turns, and there’s an odd fluttering feeling in your chest. You’re not sure what’s happening, you’ve never known any sensation like this before, but you do know that you really enjoy the feeling.

The effect is similar to lust, but, for some reason, it feels like it means more than just a physical attraction. Maybe it’s love? But love is a human concept. Vampires don’t experience love. Vampires court and marry out of duty to their family. Most vampires that is. Some are stupid enough to reject a marriage…

You sigh and shake your head at the memories. It happened so long ago. You need to move on. Checking up on Eddie, you freeze. He’s gone. The lunchbox sits unassumingly on the table, indicating his presence nearby. Wringing your hands, you slowly move backward, attempting to flee.

A twig snaps, and you know it’s him. Turning, your eyes meet briefly, and on instinct, you bare your fangs and hiss in warning. He yelps, startled, rushing behind a tree for cover. Seeing the opportunity, you bolt, running to the safety of the inner woods.

This is the second time you’ve lost control of your fangs around him. You’re almost disappointed with yourself. He would’ve assumed you were human if you hadn't acted irrationally. Yes, you would’ve had to explain the stalking, but at least he wouldn’t be afraid of you. Now, your only source of entertainment is ruined– what a terrible day.

Back at the table, Eddie’s freaking out. All around town, people have been talking about the vampire hunters.  They visited all the churches on Sunday, preached about vampires being sent by the Devil to corrupt Hawkins, begged for the town’s empathy and support. And they got it, yes, they got a hell of a lot of support. The gullible townspeople eat up their lies, groveling at the Hunters’ feet to offer costless places to sleep and food to eat. Safe to say, he thought it was a load of bull, just some bums trying to scam the town for free room and board.

Now he’s eating his words after meeting a vampire face to face. Granted, it wasn’t for very long, but the strangest part? He’s not that scared. Of course, it’s a life-changing realization that vampires are real, but… really? A twenty-something human-passing creature that leaves daisy chains on a table for drug dealers? He’s supposed to be afraid?

He hadn’t heard what the Hunters had to say in person –he’d probably burn to ashes if he stepped foot in a church– but gossip spreads fast in Hawkins. Yet, this ‘terrifying demon’ is a far cry from the horrible monstrosity they’d apparently made vampires out to be. Sure, he got hissed at, but he kind of deserved it. Anyone would react defensively if they got snuck up on. Like that time he jumped out at Gareth in The Hideout. For such an unassuming dude, he’s got a mean punch.

Shockingly, he’s feeling a lot of guilt. With a loud, annoyed groan, he runs his hand through his hair and packs up his things. He makes sure to be extra careful with the flower crowns, gingerly picking up the one you’d dropped while escaping. Tomorrow is a new day. He’ll come back and apologize. He’s not dumb; he knows you’ve been watching him behind that tree for a while. Hopefully, you’ll come around again.

Deep in the forest, you’re feeling the same guilt. How could you have scared Eddie like that? He didn’t do anything. He was literally just standing there, and you hissed at him. Now, he’ll be too terrified to come back. You’ll never see him again. Mourning what could’ve been, you decide to return tomorrow and smell his scent one more time before moving on from this forest.

The night came and went too fast. The walk to the table is not as peppy as it once was, your feet dragging depressingly through the leaves that litter the forest floor. Typically, you’d be more careful about tracks, but it’s irrelevant now that you’re going to be leaving the area.

Pouting, you lean against your tree dramatically and inhale his scent. It smells so fresh that you swear you can hear his heartbeat. Now that you think of it, you can hear his heartbeat. Hesitantly poking just your eye out from behind the tree, you can see him. You can also catch his lack of silver jewelry. The sight brings a genuine smile to your face. Not only did he come back, but he was considerate enough to remove his silver, too?

For the second time, he locks eyes with you. Afraid of what you’ll do this time, you simply sit and wait for him to make a move. “Uh. Hi,” he starts awkwardly, wincing at how loud his voice sounds when disturbing the silence.

“Greetings,” you murmur, slightly shifting so you’re further behind the tree. It doesn’t matter if you have a soft spot for him. He could still be plotting your demise.

Noticing your movement, he tries to coax you out. “I wanted to say sorry. About yesterday, I mean. I– well, I wasn’t trying to scare you. I thought you knew I was there.”

You narrow your eyes. Why is he apologizing to you? “I should apologize. It was unbecoming and a misrepresentation of my kind to hiss at a defenseless human.”

“I wouldn’t say defenseless,” he mumbles indignantly under his breath.

You furrow your brows, moving further out of your hiding spot to educate him, “Humans are the most defenseless of the sentient creatures that roam this dimension.”

“You heard that?” he asks before thinking over your words and repeating, “Sentient creatures? This dimension? What the hell?” You open your mouth to answer his questions when he cuts you off, “Y’know what? Forget I asked. Sorry, it’s just… you’re so metal, it’s fuckin’ awesome.”

Metal? Like silver? There’s nothing about that sentence you understand. Was that supposed to be an insult or threat or maybe something else? Uncertain, you move back behind the tree. “Shit,” he curses.

“Hey, forget I said that, too. I’m really sorry.” He turns around and returns with the daisy chains you’d made yesterday. The edges of the petals are wilting, and some stems are completely withered, but they’re well preserved for a bunch of plucked flowers. Holding one up, he pleads, “Come out, please. We can be friends.”

Carefully, he lays the flower crown on the end of the table closest to you. Stepping back, he sits down on the opposite side and furthest corner. Placing his own chain in front of his spot, he continues, ”I think you’re in danger. There’s these idiots in town who say you’re here because of the Devil.”

It’s not a good idea to leave your safe space. In fact, it’s a terrible idea. Still, your body moves of its own volition until you’re seated in front of your flower crown. You can’t hold eye contact at this distance. He smells so amazing you’re a little afraid he’ll be able to see it in your eyes.

Bashfully, you slightly boast, “The Hunters will never catch me. They’re arrogant and dull. I’ve been evading them for years.” He hums, impressed, asking more questions about the Hunters. You probably spend half an hour talking with him, slowly becoming more comfortable.

Unfortunately, all good things must end. In the distance, you can smell the stench of vanity emanating from the Hunters. How had they found you? …The trail you’d left in the leaves! Why had you been so reckless?

Panicked, you stand. Eddie follows your lead, getting to his feet. “You run,” he directs, motioning to your tree, “I’ll distract them.” It’s courageous of him but unnecessary. Looking at the tree, you know you can hide in it. The branches are too high for you to reach, even jumping, so it’s the perfect spot. They’d never suspect it.

Now, the problem. You need to get up a tree you can’t reach the branches of. There’s a second tree close enough to give you leverage. Decision made, you run at the smaller tree and jump, pushing off the bark and boosting your jump high enough to reach a branch. From there, you simply pull yourself up.

The great thing about being a vampire? You can look as unassuming as a human yet possess the strength of a manticore. And, you can say from experience that they’re powerful. At the very least, Eddie seems impressed by your display if his muffled “holy shit” is anything to go by.

Your successful jump is not a moment too soon. The Hunters, armed with what appears to be everything they have burst into the clearing. They’ve got their weapons aimed at Eddie but quickly recognize him from town.

You’d never bothered to learn their names, but you can identify them by their most prominent feature. Their leader has a hideous mustache, which is why he’s ‘mustache man.’ You have a knack for creative names. He’s fortunate you didn’t choose to call him “hat boy” because the cowboy hat is really something. A bad something.

Anyways, mustache man drawls, “What are ya doin’ out here, boy?” He holsters his gun, a nasty contraption loaded with deadly silver bullets. When you were young, your family friend had been shot in the forearm with one of those kinds of bullets. She’d died, despite the nonlethal place she’d been shot. The allergic reaction had been too much for her body to handle, which is what happens to almost every single vampire shot with a silver bullet.

All this to say: gun scary. Stay away from bullets.

Eddie seems to understand this, most likely because he’d just had said gun pointed at his face. Guns can hurt humans, silver bullets or not. Fumbling over his words, Eddie finally spits out, “I’m making flower crowns?” Not the strongest answer.

The right-hand man, ‘neck scar,’ responds, “Why do they look like shit?”

Eddie scoffs, defending your work, “The flowers died before I could finish making them. Don’t judge if you’ve never tried it.”

Now, the strong man ‘skull tattoo’ says, “We know you weren’t making fuckin’ flower crowns. What were you actually doing?”

“Maybe I just like to hang out in the woods,” Eddie snaps back, “You got a problem with that?”

Mustache man steps in, “I haven’t seen ya ‘round church, that why ya don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Acting innocent? Maybe not the best move.

“Vampires,” skull tattoo exclaims dramatically, “You’ve got ‘em. Town’s infested with ‘em. The woods aren’t safe for little boys like you. Go home and read a book.”

Eddie scoffs but picks up the flower crowns and leaves down the path without a word. The Hunters scour the area for a few minutes but find nothing. Eventually, they head back to follow your leaf trail back into the forest.

Relieved they’re gone, you drop onto the floor below. Surprisingly, Eddie comes out of the forest and meets you. “I assumed you had left?” you question, baffled.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admits, “those guys seemed like real assholes. Didn’t wanna leave you alone.” You huff at his lack of faith in you but still crack a smile anyways. Eddie then offers, “Why don’t you stay with me? My uncle won’t mind, and we can hide you from the Hunters.”

Caught a little off guard, you hesitate to respond. “Are you absolutely certain? When I feed, my clothes get messy. I could drag animal blood into your home and stain your valuables.”

“Half our shit is stained already. Why not add blood to the mix?” Amused at his reaction, you nod. Obviously, he’s never had to clean blood out of things. You have nothing but the clothes on your back, so there’s nothing to get before leaving. The walk to his van is consumed by silence. You hate to break it, but you have to ask. It’s been bothering you for weeks.

“What is weed?”

After a very shocked reaction from Eddie and an entire lesson on drugs in his van, you make it to his trailer. He’d also explained trailer parks and moveable homes to you since you’d never seen them before. You appreciate how helpful he is without judging you for your inexperience.

Once inside, he gifts you some clothes and teaches you how to operate a shower. You’re really out of your element. You delay your attempt to turn on the shower by about fifteen minutes, and once it’s on, it takes another five before you touch the water. Stepping out, you have flashbacks to before. When you were bathed every day by servants and hadn’t ever known dirt or grime. Those days are long gone. But, it feels good to finally be clean.

The next few weeks go by quickly. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, accepts your cover story and welcomes you into his home. The only condition is that Eddie has to pay for the higher bills, but he says he’ll do it. You fall into a routine with both of them. You spend much time bonding with Eddie since you can’t leave during the day unless you’re fully covered.

It’s challenging to hide your attraction. He’s so charming. The more you get to know him, the harder you fall. You’ve accepted that, yes, this is love you’re experiencing. And, yes, it is very inconvenient. You understand now why your brethren participate in arranged marriages and avoid falling in love entirely. It feels like Eddie constantly has a hand squeezing your heart.

Eddie likes to ask multiple questions about your life, though you suppose it’s only fair since he’s answered all of your questions about his. Today, unfortunately, he’s taken an interest in your upbringing. You’ve alluded that you grew up rich but never confirmed anything. Currently, he’s nagging you while spreading a substance named ‘mayonnaise’ onto your bread. Or is it toast? You don’t remember what the difference is.

You’re both nocturnal on the weekends, eating meals late at night. Tonight he’s making sandwiches. You can eat human food, but it doesn’t give you nutrients or aid your health. Still, it’s nice to enjoy the flavour of two slabs of wheat and all the fillings between every once in a while. Not to mention chips, which have become your second favourite food. After blood, of course.

“So, why were you hiding out in the woods if you were rich? Wouldn’t you have a huge old mansion that looks haunted? Like in the movies?” Eddie inquires, calling from his kitchen.

You scoff, flopping onto the couch. “My family does have a mansion, but I was disowned. I don’t have access to anything from my parents’ wealth.”

“Disowned? Why?”

You debate if you should even tell him why. You hate to think about these memories, but he’s always answered your questions, so you should answer his. “Well, as the seventeenth sibling of one hundred and sixty-eight–”

“I’m sorry, what?” He looks absolutely perturbed, butter knife in hand, as he whips around to examine you.

“What? I don’t understand. Why are you confused.”

“Why do you have so many siblings?” he interrogates, pointing his knife at you.

You raise your eyebrow at his dramatics, shifting to lay on your stomach on the couch. “Vampires have the same short gestation period as humans, yet the lifespan of the supernatural. It’s common for vampire families to have hundreds of children.” Your parents have most likely had more children since you left. You’re not sure how many siblings you have anymore.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he apologizes, turning back to the sandwiches, “I guess I never thought about how long vampires live. How old are you?”

“I thought in human culture it’s considered rude to ask for someone’s age. I will never tell you the exact number, but I am the human equivalent of twenty and a half years. I still have much development before my brain is fully matured.”

His demeanor changed after you’d said ‘rude.’ He appears to be nervous he offended you, which is something you’ve gotten used to. You’re a powerful supernatural being. It would be concerning if he wasn’t a little apprehensive when speaking to you.

“Moving on, I was disowned because I was the seventeenth sibling. Thus, the responsibility to marry the head of the Andilet family fell on my shoulders. After getting to know my future spouse, I declined. I felt something was off, and I didn’t want to be bound to someone I was suspicious of.”

Abandoning the sandwiches for a moment, Eddie leans against the counter. “You didn’t marry someone and got disowned?”

“Yes,” you nod, “Marriages are necessary to connect families. It was my duty to serve my family, not to act in my own self-interest.”

Hu pushes back, “Your own self-interest? Didn’t you say there was something wrong with your fiance?”

“Yes, my fiance was a serial killer,” you gloss over that fact, hopeful he won’t notice you said it, “But I shouldn’t have rejected the marriage. I disgraced my family name.”

“Woah, what?” he exclaims, throwing his hands up, “You escaped marrying a serial killer, and you feel bad about it? Fuck your family. You’re better off single than dead.”

You shake your head, “Return to your sandwiches. You won’t understand vampire culture.”

He scoffs, mumbling, “We’ll talk about this later,” as he turns back to the sandwiches. You make some light conversation to change the mood in the room, asking about his little monster game. He falls for the trick and begins to ramble about someone named Vecna.

You listen intently, though you don’t understand half of what he’s saying. He’d explained the essentials to you a few weeks ago, so you at least know the basic gist of the game.

He’s now getting more excited, his talking speed increasing. “And I’m going to make the party think he’s dead, only to bring him back– fuck!”

Startled, you jump. The sharp knife you hadn’t noticed he’d picked up clatters to the floor. At the same time, your pupils blow wide, smelling the blood leaking from his hand. He’s clutching his finger to his chest, wincing in pain. If you could, you’d feel guilty for how excited you are that he’s cut himself.

“That’s what I get for using a knife to open a package, huh,” he sighs, worrying over his finger for a few moments before turning to you. You’re too far gone to pay attention to his words, lips parted and eyes hazy, thinking about drinking his blood. Realizing what’s happening, he smirks arrogantly. Walking over, he squats right in front of you. His blood is right there. You subconsciously lean towards his fingers.

He pulls his hand back. “You want my blood that bad?”

In a trance, you admit, “I’ve always wanted your blood. The reason why I watched you was because you smell divine.” His heart skips a beat because of the admission, but he still wants to tease you.

“Then beg for it.”

Fuck. He’s going to be the death of you. Hesitating a little, you mumble, “Please.”

He responds, “What? I can’t hear you,” cupping his uninjured hand around his ear. Cheeky bastard.

Sheepishly, you speak louder this time. “Please, can I have some blood?

Smirking, he leans in so close that his lips just barely brush your own. “Oh, that wasn’t good enough, Sweetheart. You can do better.” Damn him, and his attractive face, and his enticing blood.

Wiggling closer to his body, you whine, “Please, I haven’t had human blood in so long. Just a taste. I swear I won’t bite your finger, please.”

He taps his chin like he’s considering it, making you wait. Finally, he brings his fingers to your mouth. You open eagerly, running your tongue against his cuts, moaning the second you taste him. He’s everything you thought he would be. Using your gathered saliva, you rub off the dried blood on his skin.

Wanting more, you close your lips around his fingers and suck hard, pulling more blood from his body. Your fangs have lowered, framing his digits and holding them in place. Apparently, he doesn’t get the message and pushes on your tongue, moving his fingers. You both know you’ve just pricked him, yet neither acknowledges it.

Your thighs squeeze to relieve some pressure, but it doesn’t work. You can see he’s having a similar issue, his hips pressing forward to grind his hard cock on his jeans. Maybe you can solve this problem, but you’re not sure you dare to suggest it. But then, he pulls his fingers from your mouth, and you instantly miss his sweet, metallic taste.

Losing all decorum, you let loose, dropping the formal speech you’ve always used with him. “I’ll suck your dick if you let me bite your neck.”

“Jesus Christ,” he blurts, genuinely shocked, “You didn’t know what weed was, but you know how to suck dick?”

“I learned the important things.”

He laughs, and you do too, elated you were able to tell a joke he likes. He gets up and sits on the couch, so you slide to the floor between his legs. Reaching for his belt, you push his shirt up and lean forward to press a kiss to his exposed stomach. Then, you lightly graze your fangs against his happy trail. He exhales shakily, his hand coming to rest on your head.

Unbuttoning his jeans, you pull the zipper down slowly, making strict eye contact with Eddie. He seems shy, nervous even. Oh, how the tables have turned. A small taste of his own medicine, and he’s crumbling under your gaze. Your left hand rests on his stomach, feeling the muscles contract and expand under your touch.

Maintaining eye contact, you pull his underwear down to reveal his hard cock. Neither of you look away, caught in a staring contest. Barely wrapping your hand around his shaft, you inch it upward until your thumb is pressed under his head. Eddie’s trembling now but still too stubborn to avert his gaze. Sticking out your tongue, you gently lick his slit. Finally, he breaks eye contact, dropping his head backward and bringing both hands up to hide the flush covering his cheeks.

You giggle but continue with your task, licking his tip and swirling your tongue in a figure eight pattern on the underside of his dick. Using your hand, you spread your saliva, so hopefully, he won’t be uncomfortable. You will say, you have a few tricks up your sleeve…

Some things that are great about being a vampire: one, your species doesn’t have a gag reflex because your primary source of food is blood; and two, you can survive without breathing for about thirty minutes. Meaning you can deepthroat him, and if he wanted, he could fuck your throat. Now, you don’t want to move too fast, so you opt to slowly ease him into your mouth and see where it goes.

Wrapping your lips around his tip, you’re cautious of your teeth. Luckily, like his fingers, your fangs have framed his dick instead of puncturing it. You pull back and push forward, allowing more and more of his length to fill your mouth. Occasionally, you glance up at him to see how he’s doing, but every time you’ve looked, he gets redder, his mouth agape. You’re pretty sure he’s enjoying himself.

You miss the taste of his blood, so you decide to be a little devious. You have to be careful, a tiny nick won’t hurt anyone. He can afford to lose a little blood. However, one wrong move and he’ll be bleeding out in your mouth. Which wouldn’t be so bad for you, but you’d like to keep Eddie around for a bit longer, and you’re not gonna accomplish that if he dies from blood loss.

Gently, you make a small cut that releases little droplets of blood into your mouth. Pleased, you push all the way down until your nose bumps the dark coils at the base of his cock. Glancing up one more time, he’s finally picked his head up, looking at you. His thumbs reach down to brush against your hollowed cheeks, causing you to hum. He gasps, throbbing in your mouth.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he groans, hands now gripping your jaw. Ignoring him, you hum and suck harder. A soft moan is all the warning you get before he’s spilling down your throat. He pants as you pull off, taking a moment to calm down. Meanwhile, you’re squirming on the floor. You want his blood. No, you need his blood.

It seems his dominance is back because he notices your struggle and pulls you up into his lap. You’re so desperate that the second your clit touches his thigh, a zing of pleasure shoots up your spine. You’re still wearing your clothes, but you’re so wired it feels like you’re making direct contact. Gripping his leg, your hips rock on his rough jeans.

He does nothing to stop you. In fact, he encourages your movements, placing one hand on your waist to guide you. He gently shushes you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you’re babbling nonsense pleas for his blood.

He pushes his hair off his shoulder, leading your head to the crook of his neck. You latch on and bite, the tang of his blood so much sweeter when pulled from his neck. It’s so good that you instantly cum when tasting it. As you continue to draw blood, you grip onto his shoulders, stars bursting behind your closed eyes.

Eddie doesn’t let you stop moving your hips, pushing and pulling with two hands. Whining in confusion and overstimulation, you don’t fight him. If this is the price you must pay for some of his blood, then so be it.

You stop taking blood when his grip doesn’t feel as tight and he appears to be a little woozy. Pulling back, you lap at the bitemark to slow the bleeding. He flops back onto the couch, and you follow with a little squeak because of his hands on your waist.

Now that his neck is not bleeding as much, you leave little kitten licks around the wound, hoping to soothe the irritation from your venom. He lightly clears his throat, “Am I gonna turn into a vampire?”

You chuckle. The things humans believe are ridiculous. “No, you aren’t,” you reassure him softly, “I’d have to kill you with my venom. I’m not old enough to do that.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, before speaking up again, “How old do you have to be to do that?”

“About a thousand years, approximately.”

“So you’re under a thousand years old? You’re so young,” his comment is laced with light-hearted sarcasm. “Are you under five hundred years?”

You huff, “I’m not giving you any clues about my age.”

“Oh, come on,” he pleads, “Just a little hint.”

Laughing, you kiss him to shut him up. He reciprocates, smiling the entire time. Soft and sweet, you know you’re deep in love. But, it seems he is, too.

Maybe this will be your decade after all?

[rainyval-deactivated20231211]

Genuinly one of the best vampire fan fictions I've read

[strictimeline]

Thank you! I was worried people wouldn't like the style I chose to write this fic in, so I'm glad you liked it <3

[strictimeline]

Little White Lies

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Softcore Pornstar!Fem!Reader (Light Angst Fluff, Smut)

Summary: You lie to everyone about your job in Indianapolis. What happens when Eddie recognizes you from his favourite porn magazines?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Only, Slight Choking Kink, Praise Kink, Very Light Bondage (He Uses His Hands), Marking, Vaginal Fingering, Protected Sex, PiV Penetration

(I’m not sure what this kink/whatever this counts as, but it’s mentioned a few times that Eddie’s “using” the reader)

A/N: I really don't know what to say. I think this one speaks for itself.

@pixiehollands's For Your Viewing Pleasure inspired this fic! They're a little different, but I've reblogged it, so please read their work as well !! :]

Masterlist

Your friendship with Eddie has lasted for years. You two have always had a strong connection, made stronger by your commitment to truth. As Eddie had so brazenly put it, standing in front of Hawkins High on a humid summer day in 1980: “We’re high schoolers now. All the crazy shit happens here. From now until forever, you have to promise to tell me everything. And I mean everything.”

At the time, you were skeptical. He’s a boy. Obviously, he’s hiding things from you. Why should you tell him everything that you go through? So, maybe a tad too accusatorily, you’d responded: “Sure, but only if you agree to tell me everything, too. I’ve been in your room alone, y’know.”

His face flushed, but he pretended it hadn’t happened. Instead, he spit in his palm and stuck out his hand. You’d been reluctant but had ultimately completed the spit shake. Dutifully, you’d both honoured your bond.

Well… he had dutifully honoured your bond. For example, Eddie had told you, in completely unnecessary detail, about his first time– and how bad it sucked. He’d also told you about his drug dealings, his father, the four times he’d almost gotten robbed in dingy alleyways behind the Hideout, and, of course, the one time the robber succeeded.

You had been a little more lenient, holding out on the more humiliating stories. You’d still told Eddie about a lot of things, though. Like bra shopping with your mother, family drama you’d learned during the holidays, your first time– which had also sucked, and your first period. Granted, the last one was out of necessity. He was the person you’d sent to get pads from the nurse’s office after freaking out in the girl’s bathroom.

Eddie’s also the first to know about many important events in your life. Generally, you tell him news before you let anyone else know, especially about things you’ll share with your family. He’s like a test-run, someone who will give you a preview of your family’s reaction.

Thus, he’s the first person you told about your new job in Indianapolis. You never told him exactly what the job was, but he was pretty broken up about it. After spending years together, you’d have to be separated during the week. You’re still around on weekends, but you’d split that time between him and everyone else you know in Hawkins.

He’d asked if you even needed to work in Indianapolis, but you’d just graduated high school, and money was tight. The job offered a higher salary than anything you could find in Hawkins. Besides, you’d already accepted and signed a contract. There was no turning back.

You’re a model for pornographic photos, to put it bluntly. It’s porn, sure, but it’s softcore porn. The only costars you’ll ever have are other women, and the only consumers will be teenage boys who think a picture of a bra is scandalous.

Was it a bad decision? Probably. But, you’re eighteen, you’re an adult, you can do whatever you want besides legally drinking alcohol. Anyways, you’d negotiated to include anonymity in your contract, meaning you’d never have to show your name or face unless you wanted to.

Your first real shoot was a few days after graduation. You’d pretended that you were going to an orientation and training for your job so nobody would be suspicious. The shoot went much smoother than expected, your nerves only lasting half an hour. One of the other women you’d met said it took her four sessions to get over her camera shyness, so you felt pretty good about the experience as a whole.

Since it was your first time in front of a camera, you’d been able to choose the lingerie and general vibe you wanted to have. You’d never admit this out loud, but you’d selected a set that reminded you of Eddie. It was dark red with black lace and silver metal decorations. The photographer chose a staged room that looked like a haunted house to match your outfit. The photos were a success, turning out nicely. They’d set your first appearance in a magazine for their July edition, two months away.

After your debut, you’d become quite popular. Customers enjoyed your photosets and sent letters to ask for more. The company decided that your next shoot would be angel-themed to contrast with the dark edge of your first photos. Once the set came out, people loved the angel and devil concept, so you’d stuck to those kinds of shoots from then on.

Since your start two years ago, you’ve appeared in thirty-seven magazines. Most of your pages are actually in limited-edition releases, unique to the company you work for. They’re hard to get and released separately from the usual monthly editions. They’re also worth a lot of money, meaning most people can’t get their hands on them.

Which is why you’re so shocked to find an entire box of all the magazines you’ve starred in tucked under Eddie’s bed. First of all, you’d told him multiple times that his bed isn’t the best place to hide things if he wants to keep them a secret. Second of all, even if he’d bought the limited releases when they’d first dropped, his collection would’ve cost him a few hundred dollars, at least.

Maybe he bought them because he liked some other girl in the magazines? But, skimming through the pages, you’re the only one in common between them all. Should you say something? But he can’t know it’s you. If he knew, he would’ve said something. Right?

Not wanting to seem like a creep, you simply slide them back under the bed and pretend you haven’t seen a thing. It’s just in time, too. Eddie comes back and flops onto his bed, right above the magazines. You’ll never look at him the same now that you know they're there.

He immediately notices your odd behaviour, raising his eyebrow, “You okay?”

“Yea,” you lie, wincing at your unsure tone, “just peachy.”

He sits up and leans close to you, squinting, attempting to figure out what’s wrong with you. Nervously, you stand, averting your gaze. He hums but doesn’t say anything more, falling backward to lay on his bed again.

You don’t want to be more suspicious, so you sit on his bed, too. Not liking the uncomfortable silence, you speak before your brain can stop you, “It’s just hot, y’know? This summer is way hotter than I expected.”

His fingers tap together like an evil mastermind. You know from experience that this means he has a plan, one that you probably won’t like. His eyes have a mischievous glint when he looks up at you. “I can hose you down out back. My uncle used to do it when I was a kid and it was too hot.”

“No way in hell are you hosing me down! I’d rather jump into Lover’s Lake naked!”

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t pretend like you haven’t already. I know you’ve skinny dipped in Lover’s Lake. It’s a rite of passage for dumb Hawkins teenagers.”

Scoffing, you hiss, “Are you calling me dumb?”

“You’re my best friend,” he says, rolling onto his front and pausing for dramatic effect, “of course I’m calling you dumb.”

In retaliation, you grab one of his pillows and swing at him. You’re not fast enough, his hand stops the pillow, but it’s not like you were expecting it to land. Throughout your entire friendship, you’ve only won one pillow fight.

Wrenching it from your grip, he places the pillow under his elbows. “All this talk about Lover’s Lake gives me an idea.” You make a face, ready to tell him off for teasing you, but he stops you. “It’s not a joke idea, calm down. Why don’t we go swimming there?”

Well, you weren’t lying when you said it’s hot, and Lover’s Lake is better than boiling to death in his room. You nod, “Okay, but I’m not going naked. I have a swimsuit in my bag.” Decision made, he pushes you off the bed and out of his room so he can change. You spend about a minute rifling through your bag to find your swimsuit. It’s nothing like the ones you wore in high school. Those were one-pieces designed to hide your insecurities.

Showing off your body in front of a camera has dramatically increased your confidence. Your new swimsuit is a two-piece. The bottoms are low-cut, exposing a lot of skin. In high school, you would’ve died at the thought of wearing this swimsuit, but now you’re excited about it. The print is cute, and the style is flattering to your body type.

Like always, Eddie slams open the door, scaring the crap out of you. He laughs at your expense, going to the small closet to grab towels for you both. You enter his room to change with a huff, annoyed with his childishness. You only take a minute, tossing your clothes to the corner of his room.

Reaching over to the bed, you attempt to grab your cover-up. But, wait. Where is it? Looking around, you scoff at your stupidity. Eddie’s scare had distracted you, meaning you’d never brought the damn thing with you. Opening the door, you plan to retrieve it from your bag, but Eddie notices you first.

“I recognize you,” he blurts the second you step out of the room. Both of you are caught off guard, neither expecting his words. You’re lost, like a fish out of water, floundering around for a hint of context. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized, staring holes into your bikini bottoms.

Your breath hitches, realizing your mistake too late. You’d completely forgotten about your scar! You’d gotten it as a child, but it’s in such a private place you’d never shown him in person. Obviously, he’s seen it in his magazines. He walks closer, and you walk backward. Eventually, there’s nowhere to go. You’re trapped between the wall and his body. His finger raises to trace against the scar, stopping at the edge of your swimsuit.

You’re doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, but he’s so close it’s hard to evade. He’s looking down at you so intensely that you have to turn your head. He mumbles, leaning closer to your ear, “Going to the big city to be a pornstar? What happened to the good girl you used to be?” You won’t stand for this slander. Sure, you’re timid, but you haven’t always been good.

“I never was one.”

“No?” he questions, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your jaw. Feeling the way you tremble at the contact, he continues down your exposed neck. You completely forget your conversation, engrossed in his actions for a moment.

When his lips leave your skin, you remember how to breathe, gasping, “No.”

Testing the waters, he hooks his finger into the elastic band of your bottoms and snaps them back onto your skin. You gasp and jolt at the slight pain but do nothing to stop him. Chuckling, he runs his free hand up your torso. He uses his thumb to guide your head straight, then rests his palm against your throat.

“Really,” he coos mockingly, making eye contact, “because I think you are one. Good girls let their best friends use them however they please. Are you gonna let me use you?”

Is this… his way of asking for consent? Because that might have been the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Looking up adoringly at him, your eyes must have stars shining in them. Vigorously nodding, you grip onto his shirt and gently tug him closer.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, yet he doesn’t move. You whine, wanting him to do something, but he shushes you, “I need to hear it out loud, princess.”

“Yes, please! Please, Eddie,” you beg, squirming in his grip. You’re silenced with a kiss, teeth and tongues clashing. Typically, this kind of kiss would’ve been terrible, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. His hand applies gentle pressure to your throat, making you hum in pleasure.

He pulls back, only to return to your neck. This time he sucks marks onto you, gently scraping his teeth against your sensitive skin. Searching for friction, your hips cant forward, but he puts a stop to it with a quick squeeze of his hand.

“You take what I give you, nothing more,” he chastizes, barely pulling away from your neck. Sheepishly, you mumble apologies. But he’s smiling against your skin, so you know he’s not actually mad.

Moving his hands, he guides your arms above your head, keeping his hands on your wrists for a moment. Observing his work, he mindlessly rubs his thumbs against the insides of your wrists. Only one side of your neck is marked, he thinks, that won’t do. So, he refocuses on your hands and crosses them so he can grab both with one hand.

Your thighs clench because of how large his hands are. Seriously, how have you never noticed? His free hand lightly smacks the outside of your thigh, and you think he’s going to punish you for breaking your rule, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls your leg up, hooking it around his hip. The material of your swimsuits are thin, so it feels like skin-to-skin contact.

The first time he rolls his hips, your eyelids flutter closed. He’s so hard, the outline of his dick visible through his thin swim trunks, and it’s pressing right against your clit. You lose your mind when he starts sucking on the other side of your neck. With the way he’s holding you, you’re unable to move, forced to take at all. Your moans are only increasing in volume. Pretty soon, the entire trailer park will be able to hear you.

Once he’s satisfied both sides of your neck match, he helps you off the wall and lightly pushes you onto his bed. The pose you fall into feels familiar. It was probably in one of the magazines under his bed, considering how he looks at you. Timidly, you close your legs and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why are you so shy, princess? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he points out, moving closer to the edge of the bed.

It’s a little different when you’re laid out in front of him in real life, his eyes watching your every move. A little intimidated, you raise your hands to cover your face, giggling nervously. Eddie smiles softly at you, whispering, “You’re making it hard to be mean, pretty girl.”

“Sorry, Eddie,” you whisper behind your hands, watching him through the cracks in your fingers. He lightly grabs your wrists and brings them to his face, kissing your palms gently before placing them on his cheeks.

Your fingers slide further, tangling in his hair, as he suggests, “Why don’t we take off your top, hmm?” His hands trace the wire of the cups absentmindedly until you nod and lift your chest so he can remove it. The garment is tossed randomly over his shoulder, eyes focused on your boobs.

“You’re prettier in person,” he mumbles, leaning down to trail his lips all over your chest. Slowly, his kisses turn to bites, leaving an array of hickeys as he had with your neck. He sighs, sounding almost disappointed, “I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.”

“I know,” you murmur, running your hands through his hair and tugging when he hits a sensitive spot. His mouth travels lower and lower, finally hovering over your bottoms. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls them down, watching them peel off your soaked pussy.

He stops for a moment to admire you, licking his lips. Lightly, he traces over the inside of your thigh with a single finger, trailing it closer and closer to where you want him most. You remember the rule from earlier, though, and keep your hips still. As a reward, he slips a single finger in.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion. Eddie’s fingers are much thicker than yours are. Involuntarily, your walls flutter around him as he brings his thumb up to circle your clit while his pointer finger thrusts in and out of you. When you’re ready, he adds a second and a third a few minutes later. You’re so close, on the brink of cumming, when he abruptly stops. You gape at him, kind of upset because of the fading orgasm, though you know he’ll make up for it. Or, at least, he’d better make up for it.

Pulling out his fingers, he spreads them apart to watch the lines of slick web between each knuckle. Wordlessly, he grabs a condom from his bedside table and tears open the package with his teeth. You watch, now entranced, as he slides it on and uses the wetness on his hand to lube the outside of the condom.

Satisfied, he turns his attention back to you. His hands yank you to the edge of the bed, ensuring you’re steady before releasing your hips. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering even more slick. You’ve never had sex with someone in this position, your legs forced to wrap around him if you want to stay balanced.

He pushes slowly in, and your breath catches. It’s not painful, just a lot. His dick is much bigger than his fingers, so he stretches you open.  Pausing only when he’s deep in your guts, he gives you time to adjust, leaning down and pressing soothing kisses to the darkening marks he’d left everywhere on your body.

You’re grateful for the short grace period, but after all the build-up, you need him now. Angling your hips, you attempt to move on your own, but he pushes your hips back down. “I thought I told you to take what I give you? Don’t start being bad now.”

“Sorry, I’m really sorry, please just move. Please, please,” you beg, devolving into whimpers of pleas. Taking pity on you, he complies, gently rocking in and out of you. Again, it’s not enough, but you don’t want him to be mad, so you continue to beg for more instead of moving yourself.

Even under all the lights and cameras you’d never felt so heavily scrutinized. His eyes are keen, watching every movement, gauging every reaction. It almost feels like you’re a photo in one of his magazines, and he’s using your body to jerk off. The mental image sends a thrill up your spine, to be used for pleasure in such a way– but that’s a thought to file away and psychoanalyze another day.

His resolve appears to be crumbling, his hands planting themselves on either side of your body as he ruts into you. His pace is steadily increasing, causing your orgasm to build back, the pleasure burning low in your gut. Your voice has been reduced to moans, higher and higher in pitch the faster he goes.

Gathering all your willpower, you beg him one last time to go faster. “Are you sure,” he grits out in return, “I might not be able to stop.” How is it possible for him to say the hottest things without even realizing it?

“Please! I don’t care, don’t stop, please,” you cry, nails scratching trails down his back. He finally lets loose, not holding back. It’s impossible, but you swear his dick hits deeper every time he pushes in.

Each thrust hits hard, inching you away from the edge. Splaying his hand flat on your torso, Eddie prevents you from being pushed backward on the bed. His other hand grips the junction of your left thigh and hip, ensuring you won’t go too far away from him.

Both your hands fly to his forearm, holding on tightly, hoping to ground yourself in the moment. Your walls are clenching uncontrollably, needing a little push to fall over the edge. You cry only his name, but he understands what you need, reaching his hand to rub messy circles over your clit. You’re both on the brink of release, so it’s much clumsier than when he fingered you, but it feels just as good– if not better.

You’re the first to orgasm, clenching your eyes shut as all senses besides pleasure fade from view. Eddie isn’t very far behind, however. His cum fills the condom, but you swear you can feel the warmth seep through. He pulls out and takes it off, tying the end. Lightly, you crack your eye open to make absolutely sure the condom didn’t break before shutting them in exhaustion.

Eddie crawls onto the bed and drops right on top of you, face-planting in your boobs. Giggling, you try to push him off, but your limbs feel like jelly, so you give up. A comfortable silence falls over you both, content to lay down and chill for a while.

You feel relaxed– until you don’t. Your insecurities come bubbling up, despite what you do to stop them. It shouldn’t matter, it really shouldn’t, but you have to ask, “Are you actually angry that I do what I do?”

“Angry?” he questions, pulling back to study your face. You find it harder and harder to keep his gaze, afraid of what you’ll find. He chuckles, “Sweetheart, as long as you’re not committing felonies, I won’t be angry with you– money’s money. I’m a drug dealer. I don’t have any room to judge.”

A little sheepish, you mumble, “Well, you just seemed so… intense.”

He full-on laughs this time, which you think is a little unfair. It was a genuine question, after all. “Intense?” he repeats, pressing his face between your breasts to muffle his laughter. His ringed hands press against your sides, moulding the skin there. “That wasn’t me being intense,” he corrects, raising his head to rest his chin on your sternum, “that was all jealousy.”

He pouts a little, “I’m sad I didn’t get to see your titties before millions of other men worldwide.”

Laughing, you shake your head at his ridiculousness. Was he seriously upset because he saw your boobs after other people did? “Eddie, you’re silly,” you tease, scratching his scalp. “If you asked sooner, I would’ve shown you my boobs. Even in high school.”

Astonished, he exclaims genuinely, “Wait! If I had asked earlier you would’ve shown me your boobs! Why hadn’t I thought of that!” Both of you crack up again, but you don’t bother speaking again when the laughter dies. The silence talks louder than the words you could’ve said.

[pixiemunsons]

for your viewing pleasure (em)

the girl in eddie's favourite porno mag looks real familiar...

over 4k words (i couldn't help it i'm sorry), best friends to lovers, dirty talk, joking about non consensual touching (it's a single line and absolutely a joke), lots of pet names, weed use obvi, eddie's been jerking it to a pic of someone who looks like reader so if that's an issue don't read, no use of y/n. reader’s hair reaches her shoulders. also unprotected sex (even these two idiots know that’s a bad idea)

no vol two spoilers here!

a/n: i'm so horny for eddie munson i just needed to write this. i'm still working on multiple bridgerton one shots so don't worry, i've not neglected them, eddie is just my fave rn

you quite literally could not believe your eyes.

you had really seen some shit these last few years. visiting your friend robin at work one afternoon had pulled you into an absolute mess of russians and alternate dimensions and kids with psychic powers and numbers for names. if anyone had told you two years ago that steve ‘the hair’ harrington would be dropping you at school most mornings, that your closest friends would be a group of fifteen year olds, that you would be best pals with eddie fucking munson? you’d never believe them. but this was truly the most unbelievable thing you’d ever seen.

you don’t know why. it was unmistakable. uncanny, really. laid out, literally bare in front of you.

the girl in the centrefold of eddie munson’s most dog-eared, crinkle-paged, unnervingly sticky porno mag looked just like you.

you knew snooping in his room was wrong, but you had no idea there were still secrets between the two of you anymore. you’d been joined at the hip since steve had introduced you the year before, and you weren’t really looking through his stuff, you just wanted to find his stash so you could roll you guys something for when he got back from his shower. but then your fingers had closed around something glossy under his bed and you just had to know what was in it. you weren’t expecting anything like this, maybe just some softcore shit you could tease him about for a couple weeks, but the magazine had opened on its own to its apparently most viewed page, and your jaw had dropped with it.

you couldn’t see all of her, just from the lips down to the knees. she was led down, mouth spread in a wide grin, lacy white underwear adorning her hips. her breasts were exposed, nipples pebbled to the seemingly cold air, and she was trailing her hands up her stomach teasingly. her knees were bent to the side in a look-but-can’t-touch sort of gesture. it was almost tasteful compared to the open mouths and hairy bushes of the other photos. and she literally looked just like you. the hair falling over her shoulder was the exact shade as yours, and even her breasts seemed to be the same size. her skin could’ve been matched to yours at a make up counter, and the shape of her hips and thighs was so reminiscent you would’ve believed they were yours had you not known otherwise.

so why the fuck was eddie looking at this photo? there were a couple of possibilities to be pondered. first, it was a second hand magazine. as gross as that thought was, the person who handed it to him might not have even known you. it was also possible that eddie had never thought of what you might look like under your clothes, which whilst a little deflating (god knows you’d thought about what he looked like under his) was a definite possibility. and then there was the alternative, which was that eddie had realised she looked like you and jacked off anyway, which meant…

you didn’t have time to think about it, though, because eddie was making his way noisily back to his room. quickly, you threw the magazine under his pillow and led back on it, rearranging your skirt and pretending to pick at your nails just as he threw the door open. he was still wet and, you were glad to see, completely shirtless. he leant an arm against his doorframe, the very top of his boxers peaking out from under his tight jeans in a way that had your mouth watering just a little bit. you couldn’t deny that eddie was attractive, and more than once you’d woken up in a cold sweat after having certain dreams about him. but he’d never given any indication that your feelings were reciprocated. sure, he flirted with you, and he loved being close to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in queues and having a hand on your thigh when he drove. but that was just how he was. with everyone.

‘wanna smoke something, babe?’ he winked, and with a roll of your eyes he came and sat next to you, dragging his lunchbox out. of course. he kept it in his underwear drawer.

───

‘baby, i’m tellin’ you, the lord of the rings is a fucking epic!’ eddie cried out, joint in one hand and the other waving wildly through the air as he tried to prove his point. you plucked it from his fingers, allowing yourself to indulge in the way they brushed yours for a second.

‘dude, i don’t disagree, but i’m saying it’s not long enough for all the lore! like, come the fuck on, it’s two hours long for like, seven books! that’s at least four movies,’ you argued your own back, laughing at how eddie rolled his eyes. ‘some of us can read, munson, and those books are fuckin’ long.’ you smiled at him sarcastically, squealing as his hands reached out to tickle your waist. his body rolled halfway onto yours, pulling the blunt from your hand and taking one final hit before stubbing it out on his bedside table. long fingers clasped around yours, dragging both hands above your head to tickle your arms and you were laughing and from under your head… an unmistakable sound of paper rustling.

you froze instantly, and you knew eddie had heard it. your eyes shot open, and you could feel blood spreading up your chest and neck and across your face.

‘sweetheart…’ eddie looked into your eyes, and in that awful second, you knew exactly what was about to happen. slowly, carefully, with both of your hands still trapped in one of his above your head and his pelvis pressed into your left hip, he reached under his pillow and came out with the magazine. folded open on the centrefold. you were frozen under him, horrified and in shock and vaguely aware of the fact that your skirt had been rucked up to your mid-thigh by eddie’s leg and your underwear was dangerously close to being exposed. no time for that now, though. not when eddie had caught you going through his stuff and he was going to kick you out or call you a weirdo or, oh god-

‘i see you found my dirty little secret, babe. what’d’ya think?’

your head shot up. he asked you like he was asking about the weather, so casual and restrained. not the voice of a man who’d just caught his best friend rifling through his porn collection. your words came out trembling, made worse by the fact that he still had a hold of your wrists.

‘i didn’t mean to, i was looking for your weed.’ 

eddie scoffed, looking down into your face once again. his pupils had blown out, a mix of the high and something else, and his eyes looked black.

‘you sure baby? because you seem nervous. i think you saw something you like.’ his voice was still teasing, but there was something darker lurking there. you swallowed harshly, and he abruptly let go of your wrists, sitting up.

‘was it this one? perv.’ he joked, unfolding the picture to show her in her entirety. even from this angle, she was just like you, and you gulped again.

‘it was open on that one when i found it,’ you murmured, and for a split second eddie looked… embarrassed? the tips of his ears were flushing a bright red under his hair. you took this as an opportunity to sit up under him, and now he was half straddling your left thigh as he sat on his knees. you fiddled with the edge of your skirt, thinking about how he’d called you a perv. perv! after you’d found outthat he had been staring at a picture of you - well, not you, but, you know - naked! and before you knew it, the words were tumbling from your lips and you tried to stop them, you really did but-

‘she looks an awful lot like me, eddie.’

his face, which had been hidden behind his curtain of long hair as he played with the ragged corners of the magazine, shot up, and his eyes met yours once more. this time he seemed even more embarrassed, if possible. his cheeks were bright red, eyes open in shock, and he was gnawing painfully on his lower lip, a habit you’d noticed he kept when he was nervous. he opened his mouth to respond but you had already started now, and the words were falling from your lips like vomit.

‘i mean, you can’t see her face, but that’s what i look like when i’m- well, not exactly like that but her boobs are just like mine and… not that you think about my boobs or anything or you’ve even seen them to know what they look like but it’s actually a bit creepy how alike we look.’ your hands flew to cover your mouth, and you were wide-eyed. ‘not that you’re creepy! god no, i mean, i’m flattered, really, but…’ you shut up then, not because you had realised that you were rambling like robin but because there was a hand on the back of your neck and one on your waist and eddie’s lips were on yours.

they were chapped and slightly raw from him chewing on them, but so soft and his tongue was minty as he eased it into you. he was breathing heavily, and a subdued moan worked it’s way into your mouth when you gripped his bare shoulders and tugged him into you. you had no idea what this meant, mind reeling as he pulled you closer so you were now straddling his thigh, both of you sat up on your knees. the hand that spread over your waist splayed across the expanse of your back, travelling lower until it met the crease between your ass and thigh. his long fingers pinched at the skin there, pulling a whimper from you as you rolled your hips against his leg in response. his own bucked up against you, the denim seam of his jeans rubbing against your soft inner thigh and making you gasp. you pulled away ever so slightly to meet eddie’s eyes, and he tried to chase your lips, letting out a whine.

then he was dragging his lips down your neck to where it met your shoulder, working at the skin with his teeth and chuckling as you whimpered.

‘eds!’

‘yes, babe?’ 

his voice came from under your line of sight, muffled against your reddening neck, and you craned it to try and get a glimpse of his face. instead, you saw him pull away, smiling proudly at the mark that he had most definitely left with his mouth. cockily, he dragged his eyes up to yours.

‘the girl in the magazine-‘

‘would you believe me if i told you i bought it because she looks like you?’ he looked almost bashful asking you, a total contrast to a moment ago, and you couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped. 

‘i know i’ve never seen you naked, but some of these skirts you wear leave very little to the imagination, and you were wearing a white shirt when we jumped into lover’s lake that time. worst place to pop a boner.’ he chuckled as you hit his arm lightly. he was right though; you’d dived in after steve without hesitation, and eddie had had to lend you his jean jacket for your ‘modesty’.

‘i’m sorry, baby, i thought i’d been makin’ it clear how i felt about you.’ his voice had dropped to a murmur as his eyes explored your face, lingering on the way your lips had swollen with his kiss. without thinking, he reached up to cup your cheek, and he wanted the way your eyelashes fluttered closed imprinted on the inside of his brain forever.

‘thought you were just playin’ with me, eds.’ you gulped as he ran his thumb over your lower lip, tugging on it gently. his forehead creased, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

‘never playing with you, baby. i wouldn’t fuck with your feelings like that,’ his nose nudged against yours as he pulled you into another searing but short kiss, ringed fingers clutching your chin so that he could commandeer the exchange. he angled your face delightfully, leaning you back so you had to arch your chest against his to follow him.

‘wish you’d made it clearer,’ you gasped when his left hand clutched your ass, pulling your crotch towards his own, ‘could’ve been doing this since that night at the lake.’

a laugh rumbled in his chest, fingers stretching back to grasp the back of your head.

‘wanted you a lot longer than that night, babe. i’ve had that mag since i was sixteen.’ you giggled at this, pulling back to stare at him in disbelief.

‘is that right, munson?’ you arched an eyebrow at him. he held a hand up as if in defense, leaving the other firmly attached to your ass.

‘you said it was flattering! would it make you feel better if i said it’s not just because i think you’re hot?’ he asked, sounding sincere. ‘i’ve wanted you a long time, gorgeous, not just to fuck you. i wanna make you mine, y’know? that’s why i’m always callin’ you baby, and touchin’ you up a little-‘

‘i fucking knew it wasn’t an accident when you grabbed my tit last week!’

‘i didn’t grab it, i brushed it. and anyway, i meant how i’m always draggin’ you closer, tryna keep you under my arm, especially when you wear sexy shit like this.’ he reached down to rub the hem of your short black skirt between a thumb and finger. you had noticed the effect that you had on him when you wore certain items of clothing; long socks, denim shorts, band shirts. you always thought it was because he was just a man - god knows you’d caught harrington staring a couple times. but with eddie, you now knew it was different for you both. if you were honest with yourself, it had been building up to this moment for months. and you knew what you had to do.

‘look, eds, i’m gonna be honest with you. i really want that shit too. i want to get milkshakes in town, i wanna drive in the van with you, i wanna go see shitty bands in shitty bars outta town. but…’ you grabbed his hand and pushed it up your thigh, revelling in the way he groaned when his fingertips made contact with the damp fabric at the apex of your thighs. ‘right now, i really need you to do somethin’ about this.’

suddenly, you were on your back again. the movement made your tummy flip, butterflies erupting when eddie kissed you again. before, he’d been gentle; probing and exploring. this time, the kiss was tongues and teeth, and his hips were rutting against your thigh, pushing your skirt up to expose your underwear.

‘you’re fuckin’ kidding,’ eddie moaned out when he saw that you were wearing white. it wasn’t on purpose, but it was almost identical to the photo, and for a moment eddie munson thought he had died and gone to heaven. you made a move to pull your panties down your legs, but you swore you heard him growl before his hand flew out to stop them.

‘baby, i’m gonna need you to keep these on. turn over for me.’

you did as he said, flipping over so you were face down in his pillow, propped up on your elbows. behind you, you could feel eddie’s eyes burning into you. you could imagine how 

you probably looked right now; skirt flipped up, legs spread for eddie to kneel between them, wet spot between your legs as ringed fingers rubbed over your cheeks. two of them plunged between your legs suddenly, rubbing quickly over where you wanted him most, and you mewled and bucked your hips back towards him. a big hand pushed against your lower back, forcing you back down.

’shh, baby, i’m gettin’ there. just busy looking, you’ll have to wait a minute.’

his voice was hard but you knew he wanted it as much as you did, and you were proven right when, not a minute later, two long fingers pushed under the fabric and straight into your heat.

you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips, hips keening back against his hand again as he searched for the spot that would make you scream. fingers crooked, eddie started stroking up against you, wrapping the other hand around your waist. he yanked you up so your back was pressed against his chest, and the change in angle led him right to what he was looking for.

‘fuck, eddie!’ you cried out, and you could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass through his jeans.

‘is that it baby? right there?’ he asked through gritted teeth, and the hand wrapped around your waist pushed its way down your skirt and into your underwear to rub at your clit. both hands were almost too much, and you would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he had you working for release did it not feel so good. eddie was so caught up in making you cum that he didn’t even realise you had let go of his arm until your hand was wrapped around his dick, and he choked on a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

‘sweetheart, fuck, i can’t concentrate if you do that,’ he moaned out, clutching onto you even tighter than he had been before. you laughed breathily around a moan, hips grinding down on eddie’s fingers to speed up your impending orgasm.

‘sorta the idea, babe.’ eddie was nosing at your neck, pressing kisses to the back of your ear, and your words just made him work that little bit harder to get you there.

‘god, i really wanna fuck you right now.’

‘so do it.’

he stopped still and you turned around to look at him for the first time since he’d started touching you. he looked fucked out already; his lips were spit soaked and swollen, his chest was heaving and his eyes were wide open, drinking the image of you down.

‘fuck, babe, d’you really mean it? you don’t have to, i’m probably gonna have to beat off after this anyway.’ 

instead of answering, you reached down, stripping off your shirt and shimmying your skirt down your legs, leaving you sat in just your white underwear, pulled to one side. eddie’s knees almost buckled under him, and he grabbed your face to pull you into another kiss. the angle was awkward, you turning over your left shoulder, but it meant you could just about reach his bare cock and rub it through your wet folds. he jumped away like he’d been shocked, eyes pulled like a magnet down to where your bodies threatened to connect.

‘you’re not wearing a fucking bra either. you’re going to be the death of me one of these days,’ he moaned, and you had to stifle a laugh.

‘would it help if i said i never wear a bra around you?’

‘i oughtta put you over my knee and spank you, you dirty girl.’

‘promises, promises, munson. you gonna fuck me now or not?’

he chuckled darkly, swatting your ass cheek with a wink before leaning into his bedside drawer, sighing heavily when he opened it.

‘baby, i’m really sorry, but i’ve got no johnnies.’ eddie rested his chin on your shoulder, nipping at the skin there with his teeth. you leant back into his touch, swallowing heavily.

‘i never did this before,’ you said, and you could almost feel his ears perk up. ‘but i’m on the pill, so as long as you pull out…’

if he died now, he’d be dying a happy man, he was sure of it.

‘fuckin’ hell, babe, you sure?’ he grunted, teeth grazing your ear. ‘i needa hear you say it, sweetheart. tell eddie you want him to fuck you bareback.’ you supposed he was trying to be funny, but it sent a shiver down your spine that he didn’t miss.

‘does it turn you on when i talk to you like that, baby?’ he crooned, and you could just about babble out a ‘shit, yes!’ 

‘then tell me you want me to put it in,’ he teased, rubbing his cock through your folds and bumping your clit in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head.

‘eddie, i swear to fuckin’ god, put it in or i’ll just get myself off.’

‘as tempting as that is to watch, sweetheart,’ he muttered, squeezing your hip, ‘i think i’ll stick to this.’ and with that, he pushed himself in. 

he wasn’t going to put it all in at once; he was gonna spread you nice and slow, fuck it in and out slowly. he knew he was bigger than most girls were used to, and he was gonna use all his self control to make this as easy as possible for you. but as soon as he put the first inch in you were squirming, begging for more and sucking him in like a fucking vacuum and trying to sit down on it. not to mention how wet you were; he’d never known anything like it. so when you leant back and grabbed his arm and looked at him with those beautiful puppy dog eyes and pouty lips and begged ‘baby, please, just fuck me?’ 

well, he was a goner.

you were so turned on you barely even registered the pain of the stretch, but you knew from the way eddie was repeatedly bumping your g spot that he was bigger than anyone you’d ever had before. and he knew how to use it. he was holding it deep, fucking you in slow, grinding thrusts. every part of your body was touching a part of his, as if you were one person, moving together in perfect synchronicity to get you both there. eddie had never been in anyone bare before, and he was starting to feel like he’d never want to use a condom again; he could feel every part of you, and it was bringing him closer and closer to his release with every passing second.

‘eddie, i think i’m gonna cum already,’ you half slurred, half moaned, and he kissed your shoulder, increasing the tempo of his hips. suddenly, you felt the knot break and your orgasm washed over you in a crescendo, and you cried out eddie’s name as he fucked you through it. he was using his hands to guide your hips against his, all while whispering in your ear; ‘so good for me, babe, so fuckin’ good, gonna make me cum aren’t you sweetheart? such a beautiful girl, so naughty just for me, ’s that right?’ you were nodding along with his words, fingers clutching onto him tightly and so wrapped up in the moment that when he stilled his hips and gasped ‘oh fuck, babe, ‘m gonna cum, you need to get off,’ you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop rocking against him. your head was leant back against his shoulder, and you could hear him muttering frantically as he tried to hold onto his orgasm and push you off.

‘eddie, babe?’

‘sweetheart, please, i’m gonna cum, you need to-‘

‘calm down,’ you turned your head, kissing down his neck and stroking his hair gently, ‘just cum in me.’ you felt his thighs still under yours, then tremble as a rush of warmth filled you up. you wished you could bottle up the way eddie moaned into your ear, the way he pushed right up into you and filled you up to the brim, the way he sighed as you kissed his cheek when he finished.

‘babe, that was really hot, but fuck, we really shouldn’t have done that,’ he murmured, pulling out and feeling terrible at the way you whined.

‘’m on the pill, we’re good,’ you whispered, eyelids drooping as you climbed into eddie’s bed, completely naked.

‘shouldn’t you go, like, pee or?’ eddie asked, combing long fingers through your knotty hair, and you noticed he had, at least, pulled his boxers back on.

‘shhh, sleep time. i’ll do that later. we can get a plan b too, if you’re worried.’ you yawned, and eddie’s heart soared when you made grabby hands up at him. ‘now come get in bed, i need a cuddle.’

‘yes, ma’am.’

‘don’t make it fuckin’ weird, munson.’

[strictimeline]

This is the post that inspired Little White Lies, thank you so much pixiehollands for allowing me to write my fic! I hope you like it :]

[strictimeline]

How The Tables Have Turned

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Vampire!AFAB!Reader (Fluff, Smut)

Summary: You’ve had a hard life as a vampire. When you meet Eddie, your entire world turns upside down.

Word Count: 6.6k (I have a problem)

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only, Reader Is Old (But Looks ~20-21), Reader Is Kind Of A Perv (And Also A Stalker With A Hint Of Obsessive Thoughts For Flavour), Hand & Finger Kink, Light Humiliation (Eddie Makes Reader Beg), Oral (M Receiving), A Little Switch!Eddie & Switch!Reader, Thigh Riding, Biting, Blood Drinking

A/N: I know we’re all horny for Vampire!Eddie, but here’s some Vampire!Reader for your consideration… There’s a lot of personal headcanons about vampires in this that don’t really align with traditional vampire rules, if that’s something you care about.

In my update, when I said this was 2k words more than I thought it would be? I lied. It’s more like 4k. I thought this would end up 1.5-2k at most, I have no idea why or how I wrote so much extra.

Sorry it's kinda late, Tumblr was being a pain in the ass and not letting me log in on my computer.

@pixiehollands You asked to be tagged when I finished! :]

Masterlist

It’s been a rough hundred years. And, if you’re being completely honest, it’s been a rough life. You’ve gone through every terrible supernatural experience, from demon bites to being swallowed whole by a sea monster and even being seduced by a succubus. Okay, maybe that wasn’t so bad. Vampires are kind of the punching bags of the otherworldly creatures; too human to be monster, too monster to be human.

Before you were disowned, you were untouchable. And, now? You’re worth less than the dumb demon bats that swarm the other dimension. All you wanted was a break, a single decade without being targeted by the supernatural. And you got it.

Just… not in the way you’d wanted.

Humans. Stupid little humans and their silly little wooden stakes and silver bullets. Hunters are like children with toothpicks; they rarely get the kill. This particular group has been trailing you for the past four years. Never close, yet never far. This week, they’d chased you to a dense wood that works out perfectly for you. It’s not so great for them. The forest perfectly conceals you. The shadows and lush foliage provide perfect hiding spots. And, if you’re feeling especially lazy, you can hide by climbing a tree. Those idiots never look up.

It’s been a few days since you entered the forest. You’ve caught a few deer to satisfy your thirst, but animal blood isn’t as nutritious as human blood. Aside from the Hunters, there are no humans here– faint traces of hormones here, a few droplets of old blood there, but nothing substantial. You’d found a strangely-shaped rock that smelled strongly of lust, so overpowering that you had to leave.

Then, you smell him. A human, yes, but not a normal one. Something about his blood– it’s intoxicating. Swiftly, you travel through the forest, wanting to see the man whose blood calls to the most primal parts of your brain.

After about a thousand yards, you come across a table. Wait– A thousand yards? You’ve never been able to smell a human from that far. Perplexed, you turn your head from side to side, attempting to figure out where you are. You don’t think you’ve ever been to this part of the forest before. There’s a lot of different scents, indicating the frequency of foot traffic in this area. Yea… that explains why you haven’t come here.

A little intimidated at the thought of being seen, you decide to turn back to the hidden depths when he pushes through the thicket. A zap of fear shoots through your spine, and you dive for the trees. He turns his head in your direction, narrowing his eyes but not moving.

You stand as still as possible, not wanting him to investigate. Luckily, it seems he’s over his moment of suspicion. You watch, enraptured, as he finishes the distance to the table and swings his leg over the bench.

The chain on his jeans rattles with the movement, and the metallic clinking sounds like music to your ears. His hair is messy and unstyled– something your family would’ve mauled you over; after all, image is everything in the supernatural world. His jewelry is silver, which you’ve always found ugly —probably because you’re deathly allergic to the metal— but it’s so attractive on him. And, you haven’t even mentioned his eyes.

He’s absolutely fascinating.

The metal box he carries has a peculiar scent to it. Quietly, you sniff the air, attempting to get a better whiff, but to no avail. Your senses are consumed by the unique smell of his blood, sweat, and hormones. You’re not surprised, though. Vampires aren’t built to detect unnatural odors.

Not that you mind, anyways, just a hint of his scent in the air could make your day. You’ve had the blood of countless humans, but none of them can even compare to his. And, the craziest part? You haven’t even had a drop. Yet, your instincts scream loudly at you: this man has the sweetest blood you’ll ever taste. Don’t let him go.

You’ve never had such a visceral reaction to blood before. Sure, you need it to survive, but it’s never been a pleasure to take. With this man, your mind conjures up multiple lewd images of feeding off him that would make the most promiscuous beau blush. You, yourself, can feel a heat in your cheeks that wasn’t there before. How embarrassing, getting flustered over a simple man.

Then again, he is the most magnificent human you’ve ever seen.

Overwhelmed with your thoughts, you don’t realize you’re lowering your fangs until too late. Now, it’s really embarrassing. You’re so invested in the idea of a stranger’s blood that your body has prepared to bite. This juvenile lack of control over your fangs hasn’t happened since you were about seventy-five years old.

You need to leave before you make a fool of yourself. With one last longing glance, you glide quietly into the familiar shadows of the forest.

You resist the temptation to return to that run-down table the next day. His blood didn’t even smell that good, you attempt to rationalize, it’s just been too long since I’ve had human blood. Any human would smell that sweet.

The mantra works for about two more days before curiosity gets the best of you. Returning, you can smell the remains of his odor through the hundreds of others. Just the stale scent is enough to make your mouth water, and you know you weren’t wrong about his blood.

You hide behind the same tree as before and wait. For hours you stand until you can take no more. It was foolish to believe he’d be back. You shouldn’t have indulged in your fantasy, regardless. Humans are bad news. He’d probably kill you if he knew what you are.

Dejected, you turn to leave when a deliciously fresh scent fills your nostrils. A haze comes over your mind, pleased to recognize the man from before. Looking back, you hide again as he hops onto the tabletop and checks his watch. His arms rest on his knees as he sighs, more of a huff than a gentle exhale. He exudes agitation, the smell permeates the surrounding air.

Finally, a second man arrives. You know before he even comes into view because you can detect him from a mile away. At least the fascinating man’s animosity smells enticing. This newcomer smells disgusting– absolutely foul, like deception, desperation, and rubber. “Freak!” he calls loudly, catching the man's attention.

Your human— no, the original man replies, “Y’know I’m startin’ to think you call me freak ‘cause you never learned my real name,” he holds out his hand with a smug grin, “Eddie Munson, absolutely terrible to meet you.”

Eddie. How quaint. It’s perfect for him. Not that you’d know or even care. His name is irrelevant. He’s just a vessel for blood, a living meal to you.

The foul man scoffs, then fishes money out of his green jacket’s pocket. “For the… stuff,” he says, hesitating slightly.

He holds out the cash, which Eddie swipes harshly, laughing, “You can say ‘weed,’ nobody’s out here but us.” Wrong. “You’re lucky I even showed. Last-minute calls aren’t usually my thing.”

“Well, then, why are you here,” the foul man spits aggressively. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. How dare he talk to Eddie that way? Not that you care…

Eddie holds up the money and waves it in his face, “This is one month's rent, right here. Which reminds me, why the hell are you buying so much weed?”

“It’s for a party. You wouldn’t know because you’re too much of an outcast to be invited to one,” the foul man retorts, watching Eddie like a hawk as he fumbles around in the metal box.

“Not true,” Eddie comments, unbothered, “I go to parties all the time. Great place to sell weed.” Finally finding what he was looking for, he holds up a baggy. It smells much more substantial out of the box, and you realize this is the peculiar smell you’d discovered earlier in the week.

The foul man snatches the bag in the same harsh way Eddie had taken his money and turns without another word. Eddie calls out, “Not even a thank you? I busted my ass to get here, y’know!”

“Fuck you!”

Eddie snickers, shouting, “Love you, too!” at the man’s retreating form. He receives a hand gesture in kind. The middle finger, which, as you understand it, is some sort of insult in their culture. How odd.

In fact, the entire exchange was odd. Why did the foul man waste his money when there are weeds everywhere? He could just pick them up off the ground if he wanted some. But then that begs the question, why would someone want weeds anyways? Maybe it’s a cultural thing you can’t understand as a vampire? It’s all very confusing to you.

Eddie’s moving again, drawing your attention back to his hands. The money shuffles through his fingers as he counts the bills until he’s satisfied. Excited, he throws his hand up in the air, holding the cash up and throwing his head back, exclaiming “woo!” into the cool forest air. The corner of your mouth lightly upturns. You never knew humans could be so entertaining. Your family always told you they’re dangerous and uncivilized.

Just like his sudden arrival, he abruptly leaves. Gone too soon, but judging by his scent ingrained in the wooden slats of the bench, he’ll be coming back. Your body feels like it’s alight with energy as you leave. The gentle buzz in your bones is an excellent reminder of the man you’ve been observing. Yes, just observing…

You end up ‘observing’ him for weeks. The tree you chose the first time you stumbled across him is your favourite spot to watch. The reason why? It has the best view of him. The best view of his hair, and his eyes, and his hands adorned with rings of gleaming, dangerous silver. It’s so, so bad, the way you think about him.

A few times, you were almost caught. An accidental sniff here, a light twig snap there. He seems to regard the tree you’ve claimed with uncertainty, giving it a wide berth when he walks through the little clearing. It’s better this way, he won’t find you, and you’ll be able to watch him until he dies.

Today, you arrived earlier than usual. Boredom had consumed your mind hours ago. It appears the Hunters decided to take a break today, so you’d spent most of it making daisy chains and trying to catch animals to put said chains on them. Let’s just say it’s a blessing you’re incapable of getting rabies.

You have two daisy chains left, both the perfect size for a human-sized flower crown. Or, a fox-sized necklace, but you don’t dare to try that again. After some not-so-careful consideration, you impulsively place one of the chains onto Eddie’s side of the table.

Returning to the tree, you hold your flower crown to your chest. If he wears his, you’d be matching! Then, the realization sets in that he’ll know someone is watching him, but it’s too late. He saunters in, placing the metal box –which you’ve since learned is a lunchbox– on the table next to the flowers.

He lifts the flower crown with his pointer finger, examining the delicate chain. “Hello,” Eddie calls out, “Is anyone there?” You don’t respond. Flipping open the lid of his box, he drops the flowers into an empty space and sits down.

Today he’s visited by some repeat customers and one new boy. He looks, and quite frankly smells, young. Eddie’s reluctant to give the teenager some of his weeds, instead spending the time educating the young man on alternative activities he could be doing.

Throughout his deals, you smile softly at his antics, hopelessly clutching onto the tree's bark. You feel like a princess from a human fairytale: you’ve stumbled across a handsome man in the forest, and admiring him from afar, you swoon like a lovesick puppy. He’s just so…

No.

No, he’s the kind of human your family warned you about when you were a child. Crass, careless, cheeky, far too confident, caring enough to make his buyers comfortable around him, with an intelligence that’s concealed behind a smug grin and lazy demeanor. Damnit, why are you so attracted to him?

His blood drew you in, but everything else about him made you stay. There have been others, those who visit the table to buy weeds– again, you’re not sure why anyone would do such a thing when they’re free everywhere in the forest– but, back on topic. The others have never had the same effect on you.

Being around him is like a hit of adrenaline, your skin tingles, your tummy twists and turns, and there’s an odd fluttering feeling in your chest. You’re not sure what’s happening, you’ve never known any sensation like this before, but you do know that you really enjoy the feeling.

The effect is similar to lust, but, for some reason, it feels like it means more than just a physical attraction. Maybe it’s love? But love is a human concept. Vampires don’t experience love. Vampires court and marry out of duty to their family. Most vampires that is. Some are stupid enough to reject a marriage…

You sigh and shake your head at the memories. It happened so long ago. You need to move on. Checking up on Eddie, you freeze. He’s gone. The lunchbox sits unassumingly on the table, indicating his presence nearby. Wringing your hands, you slowly move backward, attempting to flee.

A twig snaps, and you know it’s him. Turning, your eyes meet briefly, and on instinct, you bare your fangs and hiss in warning. He yelps, startled, rushing behind a tree for cover. Seeing the opportunity, you bolt, running to the safety of the inner woods.

This is the second time you’ve lost control of your fangs around him. You’re almost disappointed with yourself. He would’ve assumed you were human if you hadn't acted irrationally. Yes, you would’ve had to explain the stalking, but at least he wouldn’t be afraid of you. Now, your only source of entertainment is ruined– what a terrible day.

Back at the table, Eddie’s freaking out. All around town, people have been talking about the vampire hunters.  They visited all the churches on Sunday, preached about vampires being sent by the Devil to corrupt Hawkins, begged for the town’s empathy and support. And they got it, yes, they got a hell of a lot of support. The gullible townspeople eat up their lies, groveling at the Hunters’ feet to offer costless places to sleep and food to eat. Safe to say, he thought it was a load of bull, just some bums trying to scam the town for free room and board.

Now he’s eating his words after meeting a vampire face to face. Granted, it wasn’t for very long, but the strangest part? He’s not that scared. Of course, it’s a life-changing realization that vampires are real, but… really? A twenty-something human-passing creature that leaves daisy chains on a table for drug dealers? He’s supposed to be afraid?

He hadn’t heard what the Hunters had to say in person –he’d probably burn to ashes if he stepped foot in a church– but gossip spreads fast in Hawkins. Yet, this ‘terrifying demon’ is a far cry from the horrible monstrosity they’d apparently made vampires out to be. Sure, he got hissed at, but he kind of deserved it. Anyone would react defensively if they got snuck up on. Like that time he jumped out at Gareth in The Hideout. For such an unassuming dude, he’s got a mean punch.

Shockingly, he’s feeling a lot of guilt. With a loud, annoyed groan, he runs his hand through his hair and packs up his things. He makes sure to be extra careful with the flower crowns, gingerly picking up the one you’d dropped while escaping. Tomorrow is a new day. He’ll come back and apologize. He’s not dumb; he knows you’ve been watching him behind that tree for a while. Hopefully, you’ll come around again.

Deep in the forest, you’re feeling the same guilt. How could you have scared Eddie like that? He didn’t do anything. He was literally just standing there, and you hissed at him. Now, he’ll be too terrified to come back. You’ll never see him again. Mourning what could’ve been, you decide to return tomorrow and smell his scent one more time before moving on from this forest.

The night came and went too fast. The walk to the table is not as peppy as it once was, your feet dragging depressingly through the leaves that litter the forest floor. Typically, you’d be more careful about tracks, but it’s irrelevant now that you’re going to be leaving the area.

Pouting, you lean against your tree dramatically and inhale his scent. It smells so fresh that you swear you can hear his heartbeat. Now that you think of it, you can hear his heartbeat. Hesitantly poking just your eye out from behind the tree, you can see him. You can also catch his lack of silver jewelry. The sight brings a genuine smile to your face. Not only did he come back, but he was considerate enough to remove his silver, too?

For the second time, he locks eyes with you. Afraid of what you’ll do this time, you simply sit and wait for him to make a move. “Uh. Hi,” he starts awkwardly, wincing at how loud his voice sounds when disturbing the silence.

“Greetings,” you murmur, slightly shifting so you’re further behind the tree. It doesn’t matter if you have a soft spot for him. He could still be plotting your demise.

Noticing your movement, he tries to coax you out. “I wanted to say sorry. About yesterday, I mean. I– well, I wasn’t trying to scare you. I thought you knew I was there.”

You narrow your eyes. Why is he apologizing to you? “I should apologize. It was unbecoming and a misrepresentation of my kind to hiss at a defenseless human.”

“I wouldn’t say defenseless,” he mumbles indignantly under his breath.

You furrow your brows, moving further out of your hiding spot to educate him, “Humans are the most defenseless of the sentient creatures that roam this dimension.”

“You heard that?” he asks before thinking over your words and repeating, “Sentient creatures? This dimension? What the hell?” You open your mouth to answer his questions when he cuts you off, “Y’know what? Forget I asked. Sorry, it’s just… you’re so metal, it’s fuckin’ awesome.”

Metal? Like silver? There’s nothing about that sentence you understand. Was that supposed to be an insult or threat or maybe something else? Uncertain, you move back behind the tree. “Shit,” he curses.

“Hey, forget I said that, too. I’m really sorry.” He turns around and returns with the daisy chains you’d made yesterday. The edges of the petals are wilting, and some stems are completely withered, but they’re well preserved for a bunch of plucked flowers. Holding one up, he pleads, “Come out, please. We can be friends.”

Carefully, he lays the flower crown on the end of the table closest to you. Stepping back, he sits down on the opposite side and furthest corner. Placing his own chain in front of his spot, he continues, ”I think you’re in danger. There’s these idiots in town who say you’re here because of the Devil.”

It’s not a good idea to leave your safe space. In fact, it’s a terrible idea. Still, your body moves of its own volition until you’re seated in front of your flower crown. You can’t hold eye contact at this distance. He smells so amazing you’re a little afraid he’ll be able to see it in your eyes.

Bashfully, you slightly boast, “The Hunters will never catch me. They’re arrogant and dull. I’ve been evading them for years.” He hums, impressed, asking more questions about the Hunters. You probably spend half an hour talking with him, slowly becoming more comfortable.

Unfortunately, all good things must end. In the distance, you can smell the stench of vanity emanating from the Hunters. How had they found you? …The trail you’d left in the leaves! Why had you been so reckless?

Panicked, you stand. Eddie follows your lead, getting to his feet. “You run,” he directs, motioning to your tree, “I’ll distract them.” It’s courageous of him but unnecessary. Looking at the tree, you know you can hide in it. The branches are too high for you to reach, even jumping, so it’s the perfect spot. They’d never suspect it.

Now, the problem. You need to get up a tree you can’t reach the branches of. There’s a second tree close enough to give you leverage. Decision made, you run at the smaller tree and jump, pushing off the bark and boosting your jump high enough to reach a branch. From there, you simply pull yourself up.

The great thing about being a vampire? You can look as unassuming as a human yet possess the strength of a manticore. And, you can say from experience that they’re powerful. At the very least, Eddie seems impressed by your display if his muffled “holy shit” is anything to go by.

Your successful jump is not a moment too soon. The Hunters, armed with what appears to be everything they have burst into the clearing. They’ve got their weapons aimed at Eddie but quickly recognize him from town.

You’d never bothered to learn their names, but you can identify them by their most prominent feature. Their leader has a hideous mustache, which is why he’s ‘mustache man.’ You have a knack for creative names. He’s fortunate you didn’t choose to call him “hat boy” because the cowboy hat is really something. A bad something.

Anyways, mustache man drawls, “What are ya doin’ out here, boy?” He holsters his gun, a nasty contraption loaded with deadly silver bullets. When you were young, your family friend had been shot in the forearm with one of those kinds of bullets. She’d died, despite the nonlethal place she’d been shot. The allergic reaction had been too much for her body to handle, which is what happens to almost every single vampire shot with a silver bullet.

All this to say: gun scary. Stay away from bullets.

Eddie seems to understand this, most likely because he’d just had said gun pointed at his face. Guns can hurt humans, silver bullets or not. Fumbling over his words, Eddie finally spits out, “I’m making flower crowns?” Not the strongest answer.

The right-hand man, ‘neck scar,’ responds, “Why do they look like shit?”

Eddie scoffs, defending your work, “The flowers died before I could finish making them. Don’t judge if you’ve never tried it.”

Now, the strong man ‘skull tattoo’ says, “We know you weren’t making fuckin’ flower crowns. What were you actually doing?”

“Maybe I just like to hang out in the woods,” Eddie snaps back, “You got a problem with that?”

Mustache man steps in, “I haven’t seen ya ‘round church, that why ya don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Acting innocent? Maybe not the best move.

“Vampires,” skull tattoo exclaims dramatically, “You’ve got ‘em. Town’s infested with ‘em. The woods aren’t safe for little boys like you. Go home and read a book.”

Eddie scoffs but picks up the flower crowns and leaves down the path without a word. The Hunters scour the area for a few minutes but find nothing. Eventually, they head back to follow your leaf trail back into the forest.

Relieved they’re gone, you drop onto the floor below. Surprisingly, Eddie comes out of the forest and meets you. “I assumed you had left?” you question, baffled.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admits, “those guys seemed like real assholes. Didn’t wanna leave you alone.” You huff at his lack of faith in you but still crack a smile anyways. Eddie then offers, “Why don’t you stay with me? My uncle won’t mind, and we can hide you from the Hunters.”

Caught a little off guard, you hesitate to respond. “Are you absolutely certain? When I feed, my clothes get messy. I could drag animal blood into your home and stain your valuables.”

“Half our shit is stained already. Why not add blood to the mix?” Amused at his reaction, you nod. Obviously, he’s never had to clean blood out of things. You have nothing but the clothes on your back, so there’s nothing to get before leaving. The walk to his van is consumed by silence. You hate to break it, but you have to ask. It’s been bothering you for weeks.

“What is weed?”

After a very shocked reaction from Eddie and an entire lesson on drugs in his van, you make it to his trailer. He’d also explained trailer parks and moveable homes to you since you’d never seen them before. You appreciate how helpful he is without judging you for your inexperience.

Once inside, he gifts you some clothes and teaches you how to operate a shower. You’re really out of your element. You delay your attempt to turn on the shower by about fifteen minutes, and once it’s on, it takes another five before you touch the water. Stepping out, you have flashbacks to before. When you were bathed every day by servants and hadn’t ever known dirt or grime. Those days are long gone. But, it feels good to finally be clean.

The next few weeks go by quickly. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, accepts your cover story and welcomes you into his home. The only condition is that Eddie has to pay for the higher bills, but he says he’ll do it. You fall into a routine with both of them. You spend much time bonding with Eddie since you can’t leave during the day unless you’re fully covered.

It’s challenging to hide your attraction. He’s so charming. The more you get to know him, the harder you fall. You’ve accepted that, yes, this is love you’re experiencing. And, yes, it is very inconvenient. You understand now why your brethren participate in arranged marriages and avoid falling in love entirely. It feels like Eddie constantly has a hand squeezing your heart.

Eddie likes to ask multiple questions about your life, though you suppose it’s only fair since he’s answered all of your questions about his. Today, unfortunately, he’s taken an interest in your upbringing. You’ve alluded that you grew up rich but never confirmed anything. Currently, he’s nagging you while spreading a substance named ‘mayonnaise’ onto your bread. Or is it toast? You don’t remember what the difference is.

You’re both nocturnal on the weekends, eating meals late at night. Tonight he’s making sandwiches. You can eat human food, but it doesn’t give you nutrients or aid your health. Still, it’s nice to enjoy the flavour of two slabs of wheat and all the fillings between every once in a while. Not to mention chips, which have become your second favourite food. After blood, of course.

“So, why were you hiding out in the woods if you were rich? Wouldn’t you have a huge old mansion that looks haunted? Like in the movies?” Eddie inquires, calling from his kitchen.

You scoff, flopping onto the couch. “My family does have a mansion, but I was disowned. I don’t have access to anything from my parents’ wealth.”

“Disowned? Why?”

You debate if you should even tell him why. You hate to think about these memories, but he’s always answered your questions, so you should answer his. “Well, as the seventeenth sibling of one hundred and sixty-eight–”

“I’m sorry, what?” He looks absolutely perturbed, butter knife in hand, as he whips around to examine you.

“What? I don’t understand. Why are you confused.”

“Why do you have so many siblings?” he interrogates, pointing his knife at you.

You raise your eyebrow at his dramatics, shifting to lay on your stomach on the couch. “Vampires have the same short gestation period as humans, yet the lifespan of the supernatural. It’s common for vampire families to have hundreds of children.” Your parents have most likely had more children since you left. You’re not sure how many siblings you have anymore.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he apologizes, turning back to the sandwiches, “I guess I never thought about how long vampires live. How old are you?”

“I thought in human culture it’s considered rude to ask for someone’s age. I will never tell you the exact number, but I am the human equivalent of twenty and a half years. I still have much development before my brain is fully matured.”

His demeanor changed after you’d said ‘rude.’ He appears to be nervous he offended you, which is something you’ve gotten used to. You’re a powerful supernatural being. It would be concerning if he wasn’t a little apprehensive when speaking to you.

“Moving on, I was disowned because I was the seventeenth sibling. Thus, the responsibility to marry the head of the Andilet family fell on my shoulders. After getting to know my future spouse, I declined. I felt something was off, and I didn’t want to be bound to someone I was suspicious of.”

Abandoning the sandwiches for a moment, Eddie leans against the counter. “You didn’t marry someone and got disowned?”

“Yes,” you nod, “Marriages are necessary to connect families. It was my duty to serve my family, not to act in my own self-interest.”

Hu pushes back, “Your own self-interest? Didn’t you say there was something wrong with your fiance?”

“Yes, my fiance was a serial killer,” you gloss over that fact, hopeful he won’t notice you said it, “But I shouldn’t have rejected the marriage. I disgraced my family name.”

“Woah, what?” he exclaims, throwing his hands up, “You escaped marrying a serial killer, and you feel bad about it? Fuck your family. You’re better off single than dead.”

You shake your head, “Return to your sandwiches. You won’t understand vampire culture.”

He scoffs, mumbling, “We’ll talk about this later,” as he turns back to the sandwiches. You make some light conversation to change the mood in the room, asking about his little monster game. He falls for the trick and begins to ramble about someone named Vecna.

You listen intently, though you don’t understand half of what he’s saying. He’d explained the essentials to you a few weeks ago, so you at least know the basic gist of the game.

He’s now getting more excited, his talking speed increasing. “And I’m going to make the party think he’s dead, only to bring him back– fuck!”

Startled, you jump. The sharp knife you hadn’t noticed he’d picked up clatters to the floor. At the same time, your pupils blow wide, smelling the blood leaking from his hand. He’s clutching his finger to his chest, wincing in pain. If you could, you’d feel guilty for how excited you are that he’s cut himself.

“That’s what I get for using a knife to open a package, huh,” he sighs, worrying over his finger for a few moments before turning to you. You’re too far gone to pay attention to his words, lips parted and eyes hazy, thinking about drinking his blood. Realizing what’s happening, he smirks arrogantly. Walking over, he squats right in front of you. His blood is right there. You subconsciously lean towards his fingers.

He pulls his hand back. “You want my blood that bad?”

In a trance, you admit, “I’ve always wanted your blood. The reason why I watched you was because you smell divine.” His heart skips a beat because of the admission, but he still wants to tease you.

“Then beg for it.”

Fuck. He’s going to be the death of you. Hesitating a little, you mumble, “Please.”

He responds, “What? I can’t hear you,” cupping his uninjured hand around his ear. Cheeky bastard.

Sheepishly, you speak louder this time. “Please, can I have some blood?

Smirking, he leans in so close that his lips just barely brush your own. “Oh, that wasn’t good enough, Sweetheart. You can do better.” Damn him, and his attractive face, and his enticing blood.

Wiggling closer to his body, you whine, “Please, I haven’t had human blood in so long. Just a taste. I swear I won’t bite your finger, please.”

He taps his chin like he’s considering it, making you wait. Finally, he brings his fingers to your mouth. You open eagerly, running your tongue against his cuts, moaning the second you taste him. He’s everything you thought he would be. Using your gathered saliva, you rub off the dried blood on his skin.

Wanting more, you close your lips around his fingers and suck hard, pulling more blood from his body. Your fangs have lowered, framing his digits and holding them in place. Apparently, he doesn’t get the message and pushes on your tongue, moving his fingers. You both know you’ve just pricked him, yet neither acknowledges it.

Your thighs squeeze to relieve some pressure, but it doesn’t work. You can see he’s having a similar issue, his hips pressing forward to grind his hard cock on his jeans. Maybe you can solve this problem, but you’re not sure you dare to suggest it. But then, he pulls his fingers from your mouth, and you instantly miss his sweet, metallic taste.

Losing all decorum, you let loose, dropping the formal speech you’ve always used with him. “I’ll suck your dick if you let me bite your neck.”

“Jesus Christ,” he blurts, genuinely shocked, “You didn’t know what weed was, but you know how to suck dick?”

“I learned the important things.”

He laughs, and you do too, elated you were able to tell a joke he likes. He gets up and sits on the couch, so you slide to the floor between his legs. Reaching for his belt, you push his shirt up and lean forward to press a kiss to his exposed stomach. Then, you lightly graze your fangs against his happy trail. He exhales shakily, his hand coming to rest on your head.

Unbuttoning his jeans, you pull the zipper down slowly, making strict eye contact with Eddie. He seems shy, nervous even. Oh, how the tables have turned. A small taste of his own medicine, and he’s crumbling under your gaze. Your left hand rests on his stomach, feeling the muscles contract and expand under your touch.

Maintaining eye contact, you pull his underwear down to reveal his hard cock. Neither of you look away, caught in a staring contest. Barely wrapping your hand around his shaft, you inch it upward until your thumb is pressed under his head. Eddie’s trembling now but still too stubborn to avert his gaze. Sticking out your tongue, you gently lick his slit. Finally, he breaks eye contact, dropping his head backward and bringing both hands up to hide the flush covering his cheeks.

You giggle but continue with your task, licking his tip and swirling your tongue in a figure eight pattern on the underside of his dick. Using your hand, you spread your saliva, so hopefully, he won’t be uncomfortable. You will say, you have a few tricks up your sleeve…

Some things that are great about being a vampire: one, your species doesn’t have a gag reflex because your primary source of food is blood; and two, you can survive without breathing for about thirty minutes. Meaning you can deepthroat him, and if he wanted, he could fuck your throat. Now, you don’t want to move too fast, so you opt to slowly ease him into your mouth and see where it goes.

Wrapping your lips around his tip, you’re cautious of your teeth. Luckily, like his fingers, your fangs have framed his dick instead of puncturing it. You pull back and push forward, allowing more and more of his length to fill your mouth. Occasionally, you glance up at him to see how he’s doing, but every time you’ve looked, he gets redder, his mouth agape. You’re pretty sure he’s enjoying himself.

You miss the taste of his blood, so you decide to be a little devious. You have to be careful, a tiny nick won’t hurt anyone. He can afford to lose a little blood. However, one wrong move and he’ll be bleeding out in your mouth. Which wouldn’t be so bad for you, but you’d like to keep Eddie around for a bit longer, and you’re not gonna accomplish that if he dies from blood loss.

Gently, you make a small cut that releases little droplets of blood into your mouth. Pleased, you push all the way down until your nose bumps the dark coils at the base of his cock. Glancing up one more time, he’s finally picked his head up, looking at you. His thumbs reach down to brush against your hollowed cheeks, causing you to hum. He gasps, throbbing in your mouth.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he groans, hands now gripping your jaw. Ignoring him, you hum and suck harder. A soft moan is all the warning you get before he’s spilling down your throat. He pants as you pull off, taking a moment to calm down. Meanwhile, you’re squirming on the floor. You want his blood. No, you need his blood.

It seems his dominance is back because he notices your struggle and pulls you up into his lap. You’re so desperate that the second your clit touches his thigh, a zing of pleasure shoots up your spine. You’re still wearing your clothes, but you’re so wired it feels like you’re making direct contact. Gripping his leg, your hips rock on his rough jeans.

He does nothing to stop you. In fact, he encourages your movements, placing one hand on your waist to guide you. He gently shushes you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you’re babbling nonsense pleas for his blood.

He pushes his hair off his shoulder, leading your head to the crook of his neck. You latch on and bite, the tang of his blood so much sweeter when pulled from his neck. It’s so good that you instantly cum when tasting it. As you continue to draw blood, you grip onto his shoulders, stars bursting behind your closed eyes.

Eddie doesn’t let you stop moving your hips, pushing and pulling with two hands. Whining in confusion and overstimulation, you don’t fight him. If this is the price you must pay for some of his blood, then so be it.

You stop taking blood when his grip doesn’t feel as tight and he appears to be a little woozy. Pulling back, you lap at the bitemark to slow the bleeding. He flops back onto the couch, and you follow with a little squeak because of his hands on your waist.

Now that his neck is not bleeding as much, you leave little kitten licks around the wound, hoping to soothe the irritation from your venom. He lightly clears his throat, “Am I gonna turn into a vampire?”

You chuckle. The things humans believe are ridiculous. “No, you aren’t,” you reassure him softly, “I’d have to kill you with my venom. I’m not old enough to do that.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, before speaking up again, “How old do you have to be to do that?”

“About a thousand years, approximately.”

“So you’re under a thousand years old? You’re so young,” his comment is laced with light-hearted sarcasm. “Are you under five hundred years?”

You huff, “I’m not giving you any clues about my age.”

“Oh, come on,” he pleads, “Just a little hint.”

Laughing, you kiss him to shut him up. He reciprocates, smiling the entire time. Soft and sweet, you know you’re deep in love. But, it seems he is, too.

Maybe this will be your decade after all?

[pixiemunsons]

you're so cute (em)

your boyfriend was always so scared of corrupting you, he never considered that that might be just how you wanted it. time to convince him.

a/n: i can't believe how many people liked for your viewing pleasure! i'm so excited to share this one with you. hope u love it<3

smutty smut smut, use of slut and whore during sex, reader thinks she's in control but she's not<3, soft!dom eddie, spit play, semi public bathroom sex, choking, rough sex, the ending's cringe because i didn't know how to end it, reader is a cheerleader and fits into an oversized t-shirt of eddie's but no explicit mention of body size. eddie and reader flirt like he's cheating on her but he's not you'll see what i mean. no use of y/n

cute was very quickly becoming your least favourite word.

you used to love it. when boys told you you looked ‘cute’ at parties, when your friends told you your outfit for school was ‘so cute’, when your mother picked out ‘the cutest’ swimsuits for you to wear on holiday. you revelled in the fuzzy socks and pink wallpapered life you existed in. perfect cheer practice, ill-be-home-for-nine-daddy, milkshakes in a 50s diner with a boy whose hand would never creep any further up your leg than your knee. 

but then eddie munson exploded into your life. and dragged along behind him in a shitty, beat up van came a whole new world.

───

‘sweetheart, y’know i’d love nothing more, but it’s just not your kinda scene. you wouldn’t enjoy yourself.’ eddie felt terrible for cancelling your upstanding saturday night together, but gareth had begged him to go to a gig at the hideout, and whilst he really couldn’t care less about a rush cover - prog rock was definitely not his usual scene - he’d bailed on his friends at least twice this month already, and it was starting to get hard to hide what was going on from everyone.

not that you really wanted to. but cmon; the rebel and the good girl? it was bad enough when grease did it. and if people were to find out, then both of you would end up miserable, at least in hawkins. so it was easier to have spaces devoted to just you; eddie’s bedroom, his van, skull rock when you were feeling particularly risky. once or twice you’d managed to drive to a town an hour or so away, where no one knew either of you, and you’d almost cried the first time you’d held his hand in public.

still, that wasn’t going to stop you from pouting about not being able to go with him. sure, you were more pretty in pink than pink floyd, but anything could be a good time with eddie. you sighed down the phone, fiddling with the edge of your bed sheet as you spoke.

‘you better not meet any girls there,’ you teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

‘i’d never find anyone as cute as you, baby. i gotta go, listen i’ll swing by sunday for fifteen, how’s that? i gotta go, love you sweetheart.’ his voice was crackly on the shitty line, but one word stood out.

cute.

that’s what you were, you supposed. soft. sweet. cute. 

when you had lost your virginity to eddie, he’d been so careful and gentle, making love to you like you’d always imagined. but it had never gone further than that, and you knew he was capable of so much more. you’d heard the locker room talk after gym, seen the black bandana hanging out of his tight jeans, felt the way he held himself back when he was inside you as if you were a precious porcelain doll he was terrified of breaking. well, you thought, maybe it was time you put an end to that. and, well, when’s a better time than the present?

‘yeah, baby, love you too. see you later.’

───

it had taken two hours to get ready, not including the hour you’d had to wait for your parents to get ready and get out of the house, off to some retirement party or other. your mother had waved you goodbye with a twenty, not before checking at least three times that you would be fine on your own overnight. and as soon as they’d left, you began.

and you thought you looked pretty fuckin’ hot.

gone was the cheerleader’s outfit and sensible white tennis shoes. eddie had left enough clothes at your house for you to fashion an outfit, and what he didn’t provide you could put together from some old clothes in the back of your closet. you were wearing your hair down for once, and black eyeliner was smeared around your eyes in a semi-messy, semi-sexy style. eddie’s big, worn black sabbath shirt was tucked into a pair of black denim shorts you’d bought secretly on a shopping trip a few months back. your old tights were ripped in a few places, and you finished the outfit off with your black high top chucks; you’d had to beg your dad for weeks to buy them for you, convincing him finally that they went best with the green of the hawkins high sports teams, and all of the other girls had them.

the drive to the hideout was filled with nervous energy. you tried playing some van halen cassette that eddie had left in your car to gear yourself up, but hot for teacher reallywasn’t calming your nerves. so you simply switched it off and drove the five miles in silence, contemplating what you were about to do. getting in wasn’t the issue; they almost never took id, and even if they did, you weren’t sure the bouncers could even read to work out how old your date of birth made you. 

the bar was absolutely packed out when you arrived, and you weren’t even sure you’d be able to find your boyfriend through the thick crowd of leather jackets and long hair and doc marten boots. you half considered standing on a table, but you wanted to find him before he found you. so you worked your way through the throng, muttering ‘excuse me’s and ‘thank you’s as you navigated the sticky carpet. then, in the corner of your eye, right at the end of the bar, you spotted a figure slouching against the wall, beer in one hand and the other in a jacket pocket. a jacket with dio painted on the back. grin plastered on your face, you walked over to eddie quietly, leaning up to his ear from behind.

‘hey honey, you gonna let me buy you a drink?’

you saw his arm jump at the slight intrusion, beer sloshing over the rim of the cup, but he barely turned his head towards you.

‘nah, i’m cool, i got a girl.’ you cocked an eyebrow, placing a hand on his left shoulder.

‘is that right, babe?’

you heard him huff in annoyance, making to turn around and face you fully.

‘yeah, i fuckin’ do, so- jesus h christ!’

you had never heard eddie as silent as when his eyes scanned your form, lingering over the ripped lines on your thigh and the curve of your ass in particular with his jaw wide open. you hadn’t expected his reaction to be so visceral, and the way his face transformed had you clenching your thighs together. eddie thought you were hot in your cute little everyday outfits, but this?

you were a goddamned wet dream.

‘what brings you here…?’ you quirked an eyebrow up at him questioningly, smoothing down the collar of his t-shirt, and he gulped loudly, seemingly getting the hint.

‘e-eddie.’

you smiled, all teeth, and ran your hand further down his front, hooking it around his waist and stepping forward so you were chest to chest. you could feel his heart beating wildly against your front, and you hoped to god he couldn’t feel yours.

‘cute name for a hot guy,’ you winked. ‘surprised your girlfriend lets you out alone.’ something about the way you said girlfriend, dripping with seduction, seemed to snap something in him, and he leant down so his lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath sending heat directly to your centre.

‘she was gonna come, but she’s got cheerleading practise in the morning.’

‘ah, a cheerleader? she sounds like a good girl.’ he smirked down at you, laughing lightly, and reached a hand to tug your hips against his.

‘i think she likes people to think she is. she dresses in all this cute shit usually, puts a show on. but really, deep down inside? i think she’s a dirty little whore who wants her shit rocking.’

any modicum of dominance you were holding onto fell from your grasp at his words. you had allowed him to slowly back you up against a pillar, and were now standing with his legs between yours and his head tucked into your neck. with a thrill, you realised that people probably thought he was kissing your neck, thought that the hand gripping your waist was feeling you up, and you couldn’t deny it was turning you the fuck on. you clutched onto his waist, keening up against him and whining as he pressed a sharp-teethed kiss onto the delicate skin of your throat, and it took everything you had not to groan aloud.

‘what do you think, honey?’ he asked, and you made dazed eye contact with him. 

‘hmm?’

‘i said,’ eddie growled, ‘what do you think? my girlfriend. she a slut?’ his voice was gravelly, and you could tell you’d almost pushed him to where you wanted him; breaking point. so you pushed your chest forward, and looked him in the eye.

‘i think, eddie,’ your voice sounded husky and sexy under the music booming through the club, and you reached to lace your fingers through his belt loops. ‘that i would let you do whatever you wanted to me, and i’d do it better than your girl can.’

───

you had no idea what to expect of the hideout’s bathroom. you’d never been in a bar like this before. not that it mattered; before you could get a good look at it, your back was pressed against the locked door and eddie’s tongue was down your throat.

‘i can’t fuckin’ believe you turned up here,’ eddie gasped, running his teeth down the column of your throat and letting out a moan when you pulled on a handful of his hair.

‘didn’t think it was your scene, princess.’ he adjusted his grip on your thigh, pulling your feet to link behind his waist, and you could feel a bulge pressing against your core through two layers of denim.

‘wasn’t really the cheerleader’s,’ you breathed out, gripping his leather jacket to pull his mouth back to yours. ‘but ’s definitely mine.’ this time, he was barely kissing you; instead, he was nipping at your lips, stroking his tongue against yours, and you weren’t sure if it was his spit or yours that was dripping down your chin.

‘does this you fuck in bathrooms?’ he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he grinned down at you. you knew eddie would never do anything you didn’t want, but you also knew this was the beginning of a whole new aspect of your life together.

‘eddie, this version of me wants you to fucking destroy her in this bathroom.’ eddie’s eyes went dark, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet them.

‘baby, do you know what you’re asking for?’ you sighed at him, rolling your eyes.

‘i’m so sick of everyone treating me like i’m gonna break! eddie, i can take whatever you got. whatever you wanna give me. i jus- i just want you to fuck me like i know you can. like i know you want to.’

‘in that case, princess,’ he looked downright sinful as he spoke, stroking your face with a ringed hand before slapping it lightly, ‘hold on tight.’

suddenly, you were in the air, and your ass was landing on the cold porcelain sink behind you. you put your hands out to steady yourself, gripping onto the edge, and eddie looked at you approvingly.

‘good, you’re learning quick. open that dirty mouth.’

you opened up, sticking your tongue out a little, and eddie came to settle himself between your open legs. his large hand gripping your chin once more, your eyes fluttered shut, anticipating his next move. you felt something wet touch your tongue, looking up to see a trail of spit connecting your mouth to his.

‘don’t swallow yet,’ he demanded, and you could’ve cum on the spot. he just spat in your fucking mouth and you let him, wanted him to. two thick fingers made their way into your mouth, playing with your mixed saliva, rubbing it into your tongue and pushing themselves down your throat until you were gagging and your eyeliner was streaming.

‘aww baby, are you sure you can take it? choking on my fingers already, my cock’s gonna fuck you completely dumb, ’s that right?’ his voice was taunting, harsh and going straight to your pussy, and it was all you could do to concentrate on nodding your head as you drooled around his fingers.

then they were gone, and you went to chase them out of your mouth, whining at the loss, but a sharp slap against your inner thigh had you mewling and pulling away.

‘gonna have to be a good girl f’me, princess. wanna get down for me?’

you were on your knees before he could push you down, yanking his pants down and taking his boxers with them. you weren’t even gonna pretend to tease, no kitten kicks or soft kisses to the tip. instead, you spat right on the head, just like eddie’d spat on your tongue not two minutes earlier, and took his unbelievably hard dick as far as you could.

‘jesus fuckin’-, sweetheart, are you okay?’ eddie looked almost concerned, and he went to card a hand through your hair reassuringly. instead, you caught it halfway and slowly, nervously, traced it down your face, past where you were connected, and down to the swell of your neck. you placed his hand there, looking hopefully up at him, and he took the hint and squeezed.

‘o-oh, honey, is that- you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, it’s buried in there, holy sh-‘ eddie could feel his cock moving through the skin of your throat, feel it in his hand how you swallowed around the thickness of him, how your muscles contracted and tried to push him out.

‘think this face was made for fuckin’, baby, what’d’you think?’ you moaned around his length, pushing yourself down on it even further, and you could hear him breathe in sharply above you.

‘christ, honey, i need to get out. i wanna fuck you, need to feel how wet that pussy is.’ eddie grabbed your hair and pulled you back to your feet, kissing your slick mouth and revelling in the way you pressed against him, tasting himself on you.

‘bend over the sink for me, princess.’

you were practically grinding back against him already, hips swivelling on nothing. you hadn’t noticed the mirror when eddie had first pushed you into the stall, but you finally caught a glimpse of yourself and- holy hell.

your eyeliner was dripping down your face, and where it had previously stylishly smudged it was now destroyed, smeared around your cheeks. your hair was a knotty mess, nose snotty and drool seeping out of the edges of your mouth. yet, somehow, you felt so powerful. you’d taken control of the situation, got what you wanted and, you’d discovered, looked pretty hot when you were all fucked out. behind you, eddie already had your shorts pulled down your thighs, and he was making moves to eat you out until you cried when your hand came back to stop him.

‘baby,’ you panted, vice-like grip on his wrist, ‘i need you. ‘m wet enough, promise, just put it in, please.’

eddie never much liked passing up on foreplay with you. he always took his time, made you come once or twice with his fingers and tongue before he eased himself into you. you very rarely had to do anything to get him going; he’d spend so long on you, he’d be bursting to cum before you’d even started. but the tables had been turned and he had the power here. so he yanked your panties down and sank himself to the hilt in your pussy.

‘eddie, fuck!’ you cried out as soon as he bottomed out, head dropping down so your forehead was touching the porcelain sink. instantly, a hand wound it’s way around the back of your neck and yanked your head back.

‘i’m gonna need you to watch, babe. watch yourself get fucked out, there’s a good girl.’ you whined at his words, meeting his eyes in the mirror. he looked as wild as you; hair sticking up all over, fringe plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were fixed on the place where you met. it was all too much, too hot, and before you knew it your eyes were closed again. the hand braced against your hip delivered a sharp slap to your ass, the other gripping your hair and pulling your head back.

‘stop fuckin’ looking away, baby, i’m not gonna tell you again,’ he spat, delivering a particularly deep thrust that had your knees buckling under you.

‘i want you to look at yourself in the mirror while i stuff you up. you’re gonna let me fuck you in a public space like a dirty slut, you’re gonna get fucking treated like one, do you understand me?’ you could only moan in response, and he let go of your hair in favour of wrapping his hand around your neck. your back was arched against him, his rings chilly and biting against the hot skin of your throat, and he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper against your ear.

‘sweetheart, if you don’t give me an answer right now, i’ll cum inside you and make you walk out in front of all of those people with it dripping down your legs. so, i’ll ask you again, and i want you to answer me properly. are you going to be a good girl, like i know you can be, and keep watching us, or do i need to repeat myself?’

‘yes, yes eddie, i’ll be so good for you, your good girl, please make me cum, gotta come so bad,’ you were babbling now, and eddie knew you were close. picking up the pace, he gripped your neck even harder, and now you were dizzy and chasing your orgasm and your eyes were pricking tears at how hard you were trying to keep eye contact.

then he bit your shoulder and it was all you needed to push you over the edge, one hand gripping the sink and the other clinging onto the hand wrapped around your neck as you pushed back against him, triggering his own orgasm. he came inside you, deep and hot, and you could hear him rambling as he rode you both through it.

‘jesus christ if i knew you had it in you i’d have been fuckin’ you like this for months, so beautiful, so- shit, so good for me sweetheart, can’t believe you let me do this to you…’ his forehead rested against your shoulder gently, and you leant a hand back to smooth his hair out.

‘was- was that too much?’

you whirled around in surprise, hissing slightly as eddie’s cock slipped out of you, and took his face in both hands.

‘fuck, eddie, that was the hottest shit that’s ever happened to me! and one to tick off the bucket list,’ you shrugged, laughing as his face lit up.

‘bucket list, huh?’

‘oh baby, i gotta whoooole lotta shit to cross off it,’ you winked, giggling as he swooped you up in his arms to kiss you again.

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I forgot to reblog this before, sorry about that 💔 But I love this fic, especially the part where the reader met with him at the hideout is so good! I loved when they pretended to not know each other, their dialogue was top tier !!

Like I said earlier, this is a masterpiece <3 I definitely recommend reading this

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Just saw your 300 celebration blurb fic idea and I am so horned up over it. just thinking about it. Please please write it, whenever you get the chance too. Its incredible.

Hello! I will definitely be writing that as a full blown fic. Not sure when I'll get around to it (I have a lot on my to-do list), but I think it's one of the best fic ideas I've ever come up with lol

If I actually stick to schedule, I can post it next weekend. Of course, I suck at sticking to schedule so I can never give a firm guarantee 😭💔 but expect it within the next two weeks :]

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Small Update

Hello, just wanted to give an update now that it's the end of my typical posting time. I'm pushing back my new fic till tomorrow. I added a bunch of scenes so it's gonna be about 2k words longer than I had originally anticipated!

It's an Eddie x Vampire!Reader (How the turn tables). Not sure if it's gonna be AFAB or female reader yet. The reader is kind of unhinged in this, like obsessed with him but also in denial that they like him (they stalk him while he's in the forest, so...). There's smut and blood drinking at the end, btw, so the obsessive phase does pass :]

[josephqxeddiem]

Sir, you got me on my knees

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Every Single One Of Us

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (Angst, Slight Fluff)

Summary: It’s the next day, and there’s a lot to discuss.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Fighting, Very Mild Gore? There’s A Sentence About Ripping A Heart Out & A Sentence About Suffocating

A/N: My dramatic side came out while writing this. Can you tell I love similes and metaphors? This fic is dialogue-centric since there’s a lot to say. This doesn’t follow canon, because the timeline of Steve's relationships is off.

Sorry it’s a little late, I had to babysit my parents’ puppy, Evie, for a few hours ^^ There’s two pictures of her at the end as consolation for reading all this angst haha

Part One | Masterlist

You cried for twenty minutes in Eddie’s arms until your eyes burned, your throat scratched, and your face was sticky with a mix of fresh and old tears. He was a saint, blessing you silence in your moment of heartbreak. Every few minutes, you’d tried to push away your feelings and calm down, yet your crying would start again. Your heart is hard to ignore when it’s been violently ripped from your chest and stapled to your sleeve.

Finally done, you pull back and swallow thickly. You feel naked before him, bearing every mistake for him to see. In a vain attempt to shield yourself from his gaze, you cross your arms, folding in on yourself.

“I’m a terrible person, Eddie.”

“No, you’re not,” he replies instantly, without thought. That’s a problem. He isn’t thinking, isn’t processing all the issues that have been building for the past six months. Hell, the past years. These things can’t be erased by some sweet words, a few empty comforts in the face of adversity. No– he can’t be blind to it anymore.

“Yes, I am. We’re all terrible people. Every single one of us.” You sigh, shaking your head. Sure, you could feign innocence, pretend that this is all Steve’s fault, but it’s not. This complicated spider’s web of a mess is the unfortunate result of the mistakes of three.

“I’ve been living a lie. I lied to myself, I lied to Steve, I lied to you.” Admitting the fact out loud is cathartic, and now you know you can never go back– not to Steve, or to the pretend happiness, or the escapism. “Tomorrow, I’m done. I don’t know what I’m going to say, I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but it has to be done.”

Eddie seems confused and concerned, not really following what you’re trying to say. You can feel the hesitance when he asks, “What do you mean?”

For someone who can usually read between the lines, he’s just skipped over the whole damn paragraph. You love him, but God, how clueless can he be? “What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? I’m breaking up with Steve. I can’t stay with him. You love me, and I love you. Why would we suffer when we can resolve this now?”

“Won’t he think we’ve been sneaking around behind his back the entire time?”

“Do you think he’ll suddenly believe we weren’t together if we wait a few weeks? Trust me, I have years of experience,” you sigh in anguish at the flood of memories, “If we push this away, it’ll come back even stronger.”

He nods in understanding, finally on the same page. “Yea…” he begins, instantly trailing off. He takes a moment before stumbling through his words, “Do you– do you want me there?”

A breakup is an incredibly intimate moment, but Eddie plays such a huge part in everything that it would be a disservice to leave him out of the conversation. Not to mention the pang that goes through your heart at the thought of facing Steve alone. “Yes,” you nod, adding a small “please.”

“Okay,” he mumbles as he gives a little smile and rubs your arm comfortingly, but you both know how awkward tomorrow will be. Sliding off the counter, you’re a little unsteady on your feet. Eddie helps you keep your balance as you wash your face off and finally leave the bathroom. Silently, he lays you down and ensures you’re okay before lying down himself.

The room is quiet. Too quiet. It’s too hot with the blanket on, but too cold with it off. The lines of moonlight morph and twist on the ceiling above your head as you lie still. Sleep is unobtainable, your senses on overdrive. It seems Eddie can’t sleep either because he reaches over and intertwines your fingers together under the covers. Focusing on the feeling of his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, you drift into a fitful sleep.

Opening your eyes with a gasp, your brain takes a second to adjust to your surroundings. In a split second, all the memories of last night flood your mind. Groggy and confused, you wonder if any of it was real, but Eddie’s hand clasped in yours gives you all the answers you need.

Swiftly, you untangle yourself from him and rub your face with your hands. You feel terrible like you’d only slept for a few seconds. Your eyes are so dry, your cheeks are irritated from the salt of your tears, and you’re definitely dehydrated. Last night you were right. The second you move to stand up, you feel the uncomfortable soreness between your legs. Stumbling a little, you head to the bathroom and do your business while avoiding your reflection, afraid of what you’ll see. Still tired, you decide to lie down again.

Eddie is the next to wake up, groaning as he sits up. Unsteadily, he makes his way to the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later, wearing different clothes. “You want anything?” he asks, motioning to the kitchen. You shake your head no, but he still delivers a glass of water, returning to the kitchen to make something for himself.

Finally, Steve gets up after sleeping like the dead. It’s a wonder he’s still alive. You were worried he’d keeled over and died after his lack of a response to your late-night escapades. He doesn’t say anything as he stands up, eerily silent while walking to and from the bathroom. The tension is quick to build, even if Steve appears to be oblivious to it.

Sitting up again, you ignore the ache. Your physical discomfort is pennies next to the emotional turmoil you’re experiencing. Maybe the pain is your punishment, a necessary evil to repent for the things you’ve done.

Steve is in the kitchen, grabbing a cup of water. Honestly, you’re still not sure what you’re going to say. Last night you’d spent a while planning out a speech, but you feel it isn’t enough. You wish you had the strength to wait a little bit before breaking up with him, but the guilt is already pouring out of your heart like a broken faucet.

It’s overwhelming, the emotions that are building in your gut. You’d wanted to at least get through the first few sentences without crying, but you aren’t strong enough. Six months of pain and pretend are all bubbling to the surface. Tears you thought you didn’t have are falling as you whisper a broken, emotional plea, “Steve.”

He knows.

You didn’t even say anything, but he knows. He knows the paranoia screaming at him from the depths of his mind. He knows the uncomfortable feeling he gets when he sees Eddie. He knows a truth. Yes– he knows the truth.

“God, I knew it,” he spits furiously, slamming his glass onto the table behind him, “I fucking knew it!” Your tears are falling harder now, despite all you do to hold them back. In the background, Eddie’s attention is grabbed.

He abandons his task instantly, snapping back, “You don’t know shit!” And now he’s stomping over to the two of you. Steve looks like he’s getting ready to stand up and follow through on the fight that’s been building for months. The second Eddie’s in your reach, you grab his arm and pull him down, forcing him to sit.

They don’t get up, but it’s still possible to clash viciously without their fists. Steve starts their usual bullshit, hissing, “Yea? You two were sneaking around my back the entire time, huh? I knew there was something wrong with you, freak.”

“Nobody was sneaking around! You’d know that if you actually listened to your girlfriend.”

“She’s capable of lying, and obviously, she did.”

“No, she never lied. You just jump to crazy fuckin’ conclusions and think they’re right.”

“It wasn’t a crazy conclusion. We wouldn’t even be having this fight if I was crazy!”

“Stop!” you shout over them. They both falter, freezing as they had last night. To get rid of nerves, you inhale deeply and speak as calmly as possible, “You’re right. It wasn’t a crazy conclusion.”

Eddie starts, “But–”

“No,” you cut him off, “No, he’s right. In fact, you’re both right, and you’re both wrong.”

Steve scrunches up his nose, still pissed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Yea,” Eddie agrees with Steve, for once in their lives, “What are you talking about?”

“I love Eddie. I’ve always loved Eddie. You were suspicious, and you had every right to be. We don’t act like friends because we’ve always known in our hearts that we were more, even if we’d never said anything out loud. I shouldn’t have been in a relationship when I was deeply in love with someone else. I sincerely apologize. I led you on even though I had feelings for Eddie.”

Steve doesn’t even look like he’s absorbing your words, focusing on the wrong things. So, you attempt a different way to reach him, “Last night, after everything you said, we just… had a revelation. Eddie confessed, and it dawned on me that I’d been holding back for a long time. I’ve been pretending for a long time, just like you. I just want to be happy. You deserve happiness, too, and I think you’ll only find it with the woman you love, not me.”

Steve repeats, “The woman I love?”

Your heart sinks. Does he really think you’re that oblivious? “Steve, don’t act like you don’t know. You broke up two weeks before we got together.”

“Nancy?”

“Yes, Nancy. We spent our entire relationship in love with other people!” Frustration is starting to seep through your words now. How could you all have let this get so far? “We danced around the elephant in the room, and even when it got so big we couldn’t move, we didn’t want to address it. We’d rather suffocate to death than face the truth.”

“I don’t— God, I mean,” Steve fumbles for a moment through his words, “My feelings for Nancy have nothing to do with this; I’m with you.”

You laugh humourlessly, “Steve, they have everything to do with this. Did you not hear what I just said?”

“No, I heard it,” he huffs, “I just think it’s bullshit–”

Eddie, who had been sitting quietly for a while, cuts in, “Y’know what? Shut the fuck up and imagine this: you’re Nancy’s best friend. She’s dating some selfish prick who acts like he’s got a stick up his ass all the time, but you don’t wanna say anything because she says she’s happy. How would you feel?”

You turn to Eddie and smack his shoulder. Aggravating Steve won’t do anything except take away from your points. He’s gonna get angrier, and you’re gonna have to find a way to calm him down and—

And Steve looks like he’s genuinely considering his words.

So, you try one last time with another perspective. Your voice is soft, not wanting him to think you’re being bitter, “I was yearning for something I felt like I could never have, something far out of my reach, like you are with her. She’s your dream girl. The one who you’re supposed to marry, have six kids with, and love happily ever after in your perfect white-picket-fence life.”

You fiddle with your fingers, knowing what you’re about to admit will hurt both of you, but it must be said. “Nancy shattered those dreams and broke your heart. My heart was already crushed with, what I assumed was, unrequited love. We met in a time of need. We were hurting and thought we needed each other, but we didn’t. We never have. We wanted companionship, the illusion of love. But, an escape is just a temporary solution to a far greater problem.”

Steve looks like you’ve just trampled him. He asks, with no real malice, “So, you get a happy ending, and I get a broken heart? I loved you.”

You hope your sad smile conveys your sympathy. “No, you didn’t. You loved the idea of me, of a future where you’ve moved on and are okay without Nancy. Honestly, I loved the idea too. And I used you. I used you because I didn’t want Eddie to hate me. Our ‘love’ was infatuation, but infatuation is never love. We’ll grow to hate each other if we stay.”

He’s got his hand on his face, shaking his head. Reality is hard, it hits fast, and he wasn’t prepared for the punch, so he got knocked on his ass. With a sigh, you finish your speech, “We were always supposed to be friends, Steve.” He sighs, too, finally admitting what he’s been so adamantly denying.

“I know.”

Standing up, he sniffles, “I’m gonna grab my stuff and take a walk.” You and Eddie both make sounds of affirmation. You get up, too, and help him with his things.

At the door, you send him off, knowing Eddie would probably make a smug remark. He takes a few steps before turning around, “Don't expect me back. Goodbye, and… sorry and thank you. I just—” He sighs, cutting himself short, “For everything.”

You give him a weak smile, “Sorry, and thank you, too. For everything.” You watch him go from your spot in the doorframe, not moving until he disappears down the bend of the road.

Turning around, you see Eddie standing where he had been sitting. He opens his arms, and you run into them, tumbling onto the floor together. You end up on top of him, squeezing tight, afraid he’ll disappear if you loosen your grip. You stay that way for the rest of the morning until the afternoon when you somehow shift, so Eddie’s the one on top of you.

His head is lying on your chest when he breaks the hours of silence, and you wonder if he spent all that time thinking about what he was going to say. “We’ll start over. I’ll take you to a movie– whatever you choose, and we’ll get dinner after. You can order anything you want, and I’ll pay for everything. I’ll be a gentleman, I’ll bring you gifts, and I’ll hold all the doors open for you-”

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you murmur, bringing back his little comment from yesterday. But, really, you just want to stop him from his rambling. He should know by now that you didn’t choose him because of the money he spends or the grand gestures he makes.

“Love is in the little things, Eddie,” you speak louder than before, running your hands through his hair, “You don’t have to do all that. I know you love me when you pick my favourite out of your candy bowl instead of grabbing randomly like you always do. I know you love me when you remember the things I tell you, no matter how inconsequential they may seem. I know you love me when you compromise with me instead of fighting for your way. Our love runs deeper than you paying for my food and holding open doors.”

He chuckles, “I didn’t know you thought of me like that. I guess we can just stay home all the time then, huh?” He’s teasing, you know he’s teasing, but you can’t help yourself.

Sheepishly, you mumble, “Well, of course… if you maybe wanna do all that… That’s cool too.”

------

The love of my life <3 She's so great

People who asked to be tagged, sorry if I messed up! I've never tagged anyone before 💔

@user3628929292 @mermaids-are-realll @slutfor-munson @shenevertricks1831 @daddysfavoritesexkitten @vulcrum332 @kellysimagines @bgolightly @toxishock @shyfireoperatorbasketball

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OMG WAIT BC THAT WAS SOO GOOOD? I LIKED THAT SMUT 🥴

I'm so glad you liked it! Idk something about a dom watching two subs is very hot to me so that's where a lot of the inspo came from lol. Honestly, it's one of my favourites from the few blurbs I wrote.

I think the only blurbs that might be better are Demon!Eddie and Rockstar!Eddie (they're both based on the same song/prompt and I can't decide which one I like better)

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Can you do a second chapter or sequel to he can’t do it like I can? It was written so well I just want a happy ending for the reader and Eddie plus the way he cares about her was so cute

Wow I totally missed this. Yes, I'm going to be writing a second part, and it will have a happy ending! You can comment on the original post if you want me to tag you in the new part :]

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Quick Question

I'm close to 300 followers (seriously, thank you all so much! <3). Would anyone be interested in voting for the next fic I write? This would be after I finish part 2 of He Can't Do It Like I Can, of course.

I've been collecting some thoughts in google docs, like prompts and blurbs, so I was thinking I could share them and you can vote for your favourite? And the one that gets the most votes wins.

Idk I just don't want to post something only for it to flop, so if you guys don't want to interact I can just post a thank you to my followers! I know that sounds passive aggressive, but I swear it's not, I just need to know what you guys would prefer ^^

Here's an example of one of the nine blurbs I've written (1 is horror, 1 is angst, 2 are angst/smut, and 5 are smut):

Pairing: Steve x Eddie x fem!Reader (to repent for HCDILIC 😭💔)

Word Count: 713

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Only, Threesome, M & F Recieving Oral, Face Sitting, Dry Humping, Anal, Double Penetration (But Probably Not In The Way You're Thinking)

Steve x Eddie x Reader (Poly not just sex)

Reader is a sub, Eddie is a switch, Steve is a dom

I think reader is good and Eddie can be a brat, so Eddie tries to coax her to be bad when Steve isn’t around (but maybe not in this one maybe multiple parts?)

They have a great dynamic too cause if Eddie’s feeling dominant he can go to the reader, if he’s feeling submissive he can go to Steve.

And when Steve wants someone who will listen to his every command, he goes to the reader, and when he wants to be a brat tamer he’ll go to Eddie.

And if reader wants someone soft she’ll go to Steve and if she wants someone rough she’ll go to Eddie (they can switch on this one, tho, because I can see Eddie soft for the reader and also Steve being harsher with her if she wants it)

Based on those gifs

Steve has them on their knees and they’re mouthing the sides of his dick, ocassionally reader and Eddie’s lips touch and stuff

And Steve is trying his hardest not to cum because hot damn

And then Eddie’s bratty side comes out and he lets his teeth graze against the head of Steve’s cock, which is something Steve told him not to do multiple times

And he tugs Eddie’s head back (gripping the hair at the back of his neck) while growling “Why can’t you ever listen to simple directions?”

But reader doesn’t notice any of this going down, so she thinks Steve’s talking to her, and she looks up with big confused doe eyes and a pout

So Steve smooths his free palm over her forehead and says “Not you baby, I know you’re a good girl.” You smile up at him while Eddie whines, but Steve shushes him with a clench of his hand

So Steve moves you to sit in front of him and continue sucking him off, but keeping yourself elevated on your knees. He makes you sit on Eddie’s face, which is your reward and his “punishment” (obviously it isn’t really a punishment, but the position with Eddie on his back means he can’t grind on the floor like he usually does so he can’t get any stimulation)

So both Reader and Steve cum, but Eddie doesn’t because he doesn’t have any stimulation

Steve decides that Eddie’s been good, so he tells reader and Eddie to grind against each other to make Eddie cum (reader is wearing a skirt and bra, Eddie is wearing his jeans still but no shirt)

Reader isn’t sure is she can take it cause she just came and she’s still sensitive (denim directly on skin) but Steve knows she’ll do anything he asks so he tells her to just try it n if it hurts they can find something else (soft dom Steve methinks)

She straddles Eddie’s lap and they start off slow so she can get used to it. Steve allows them to kiss and Eddie’s so horny he’s basically eating her face.

!! And then when the pace gets faster, he can’t control himself so he flips them over and ruts into her while sucking on her neck

Reader’s hanging on for dear life while Steve rolls his eyes at how desperate Eddie is

They both cum and just stay on the floor panting. Steve comes off the bed to help them calm down

If continuing smut then Steve’s already getting hard again because of the little display

And second half based on second gif, Eddie in middle, S+E start first cause Reader needs a little break

So mayhaps Steve pulls Eddie’s ruined jeans off and lubes his fingers to stretch Eddie while Eddie’s peppering kisses on reader to apologize for being so rough

Steve lubes himself up to push into Eddie’s ass and fuck him, and you still have your legs around Eddie’s hips so his dick is pressing on your lower belly

So you lift your hips and ask Eddie to fuck you, and now each thrust Steve makes pushes Eddie deep inside you

And mayhaps Steve stops moving and makes Eddie fuck you, meaning he has to push himself onto Steve’s dick everytime he pulls out of you

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He Can’t Do It Like I Can

Pairing: A Little Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary: Your best friend Eddie, your boyfriend Steve, and you have a sleepover at Eddie’s trailer. You wake up to Steve eating you out, but– is it really him?

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only, Soft Dark, Dubcon, Cheating, Oral (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Degradation Kink (Name Calling), Dacryphilia, Somnophilia, Exhibitionism, Mild Subspace + A Little Hint Of Angst At The End, Free Of Charge!

A/N: There’s a lot of Steve slander in this one (like a lot). Sorry to any Steve lovers out there, but it was necessary for the plot. I actually had a lot of trouble writing this, for some reason, I always felt like I was using the wrong words. I don't think it's as bad as my brain is convinced it is, but still.

Anyways, for the anon who requested the birthday scenario with the malachite ring, I am working on your request! It’s just taking me a little longer to plan out, so I’m posting this fic first :]

Please read the warnings

Masterlist

Hanging out in a diner and eating cheap, greasy food isn’t how you usually spend your Saturday nights, but Eddie had begged to come here. And, as much as you pretend to play coy, there isn’t much you’d deny him.

Throughout your meal, you’d played footsies under the table, only pausing when the waitress would come around to your table. She smiled as if she knew something you didn’t, but you were too distracted by Eddie’s mischievous grin to notice. Your milkshake had melted, and your fries were cold when Eddie wandered off to go to the bathroom.

When he came back, he plopped down next to you on your side of the booth. The act made you smile bashfully despite your best efforts, but your smile quickly drops when he holds out the receipt. “And they say chivalry is dead,” he says, laughing at your sour expression.

Scowling, you exclaim, “Eddie, it was my turn to pay!” Maturely, he sticks his tongue out at you. Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “What a true gentleman.”

Truthfully, the annoyance is all an act. Eddie has your heart; he’s always had your heart. Unfortunately, he doesn’t feel the same. So, instead of facing your feelings, you got yourself a boyfriend: Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins.

Over time, you have grown feelings for Steve. A gentle warmth in spreads in your chest when you’re alone together, and ocassionally you finally think you could be getting over Eddie. Then, you see your best friend. Just a look morphs that gentle warmth into a raging fire, one that you know Steve will never compare to.

Breaking your train of thought, Eddie throws the crumpled-up wrapper from his straw at your cheek to get your attention. “The folks in tonight?” he inquires, raising a brow. Since middle school (coincidentally, when Eddie started to show an interest in metal music), your parents have been cautious with him. They don’t like you two hanging out, despite knowing him since he was a toddler, believing ‘he’s a bad influence,’ but what they don’t know won’t hurt them.

You inhale deeply, shaking the thoughts out of your head. Nodding, you make an apologetic face as you ask, “Can I sleep over at your place?” Eddie’s about to respond when someone slams their palm aggressively against the table, making you both flinch. “Steve?” you question, blinking owlishly. You’d told him you were gonna spend the weekend with Eddie, but there was no way he could know where you two were. Eddie had asked to go to the diner only an hour ago, long after you’d last seen Steve. Had he driven all around town to find you two?

“Hi, baby,” he greets, smiling at you and sliding into the booth across from you. You turn the corners of your lips up in a weak smile. Steve then turns to Eddie and scowls, growling out, “Munson.”

Eddie remains unfazed, leaning back against the booth. His legs spread wide as his arms raise to rest on the wooden top of your seats. He smirks when he remarks, “Well, look what we have here. King Steve has blessed us with his presence. What a surprise.”

“I told you not to call me that.” A curt reply from Steve, but you know the comments will escalate if you don’t stop them soon.

Eddie, who seems to be egging Steve on, comments arrogantly, “You’ve told me a lot of things.”

“Yea? Well, how about this? Stay away from my girlfriend.”

Eddie laughs, “What the hell are you talking about? She’s the one who wanted to hang out with me.”

As sad as it is, this happens every time they see each other. You’re always caught in the crossfire of their petty back-and-forth. In a weak attempt to stop them before it gets heated, you blurt, “Guys,” but it doesn’t matter. Steve talks over you anyways.

“Watch your tone.”

“Watch my tone? Is that really all you have to say? Not even gonna acknowledge that I’m right?”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re right. You’re the one who entertains her. She has a boyfriend, and you should respect that.”

“I can be her friend and respect your relationship. I ‘entertain her’ because it’s what good friends do. Maybe you should give it a try sometime.”

It all comes to a head when Steve exclaims, “Yea, right! I’m sure you don’t entertain her in other ways when I’m not around!”

Silence. Dead fucking silence.

You three are the only patrons in the diner. The end of the argument leaves a hole in its wake. A leaf could flutter to the ground, and you’d hear it. Both boys are tense, sitting like statues awaiting your reaction. Stressed, you roll your shoulders and find a sudden interest in your shirt’s design, craning your head down to look at your lap.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that–” Steve starts, but it doesn’t matter. You know he did. Fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you squirm uncomfortably in your seat. Eddie’s eye twitches as he leans forward, pissed that Steve would say something so disgusting to his own girlfriend. His best friend. Just the recollection of his words makes his fist clench, taking comfort in the fact that his rings would hurt like a son of a bitch if he actually took a swing.

Meanwhile, Steve continues to try and backpedal, “You know I trust you, baby. It’s not you, it’s him. He’s no good for you.”

Fed up with his attitude towards your best friend, you snap, “People always say that, but Eddie’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. Why does everyone else get to tell me who or what’s good for me? Why can’t I decide that myself?” Steve frowns, obviously thinking of his following words. Before he can say anything, Eddie cuts in.

“Calm down, Harrington. You’re a sentence away from bursting a blood vessel.” Eddie’s words sound cool, but they’re spoken through his teeth. A warning to shut up before he says something he really regrets.

Steve finally speaks again, taking a moment to breathe, “Just let me come with you. I promise I won’t say more stupid shit, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble in affirmation, pushing Eddie out of the booth so you can stand. You don’t actually want Steve there. He’s going to alter the dynamic significantly, but what can you do?

The tension is unbelievably thick during the ride back because, for some reason, Steve decided to go in the van instead of driving his car to the trailer. Eddie turned on one of his tapes a few minutes in to fill the silence. Steve turned it back down to almost nothing with a disapproving wrinkle of his nose. You’d opted to sit in the back, but now see that it was the worst possible choice, as both boys glare at each other from the corners of their eyes. Silently, you pray that they’ll figure out their differences soon because you don’t think you can take any more of this weird alpha male fighting-for-dominance dynamic they have going on.

You fly out to escape their petty rivalry the second the van stops. It’s late, and you’re too drained from the two idiots outside to deal with their bullshit. Stomping inside, you grab some pajamas from Eddie’s dresser– you’ve kept spare clothes at his trailer for years– and you lock yourself in the bathroom to complete your nightly routine.

The boys are loud when they enter, and you can hear Steve complaining about Eddie slamming the door in his face. After a brief period of silence, there’s a lot of suspicious shuffling noises coming from the main room. You take a moment to prepare yourself to break up a fistfight, before entering the room.

Raising your eyebrows, you watch the boys fumble around in the dark as they set out padding so you all can sleep on the floor. If the tension weren’t so high right now, you’d ask them if they were planning on fucking on top of those sheets because the stares they’re giving each other are starting to make you think they might solve their feud unconventionally. Crossing your arms over your chest, you ask Eddie, “Why can’t we split up between the couch and your bed?”

“Because I’m not sleeping on the couch and I’m sure as hell not letting Steve sleep in my bed,” Eddie responds. He glares at Steve, who returns the favour. Turning around, Eddie heads off to change, leaving you and Steve alone. You help him smooth out the sheets until Eddie comes back. “Here ya go, big boy,” he taunts, tossing Steve some clothes to sleep in, “Don’t tear the seams.”

Steve huffs, “Don’t call me that,” as he goes to the bathroom to get ready to sleep. Tired of their back and forth, you lay down directly in the middle, hoping to separate them for the entire night. Eddie doesn’t seem to care, laying down to your right, but Steve throws a small fit.

He wants you to sleep on the far left side, away from Eddie. You cross your arms and frown, unwilling to move. Steve only relents when Eddie mentions the ‘entertainment’ comment that he’d made earlier. A few blankets are tossed around, settling randomly across the three of you. Nobody turned on the lights when you arrived, so there’s nothing left to do but sleep.

In your dream, you fall into fantasy– one of desire, and passion, and love. Nothing is solid; the setting a dark smudge of muted colour, your lover’s face a blur of human and otherworldly design. Images generated in your mind sift through your fingers like sand. Try as you might, you can’t catch them, but you can hold onto the emotion they bring. Whisps of feelings leave lust in their wake, tingling down your body and pooling between your thighs.

And, now that you’re focusing on the sensation, you feel pressure on the insides of your legs, holding them open. The realization is enough to knock you out of your slumber, bringing your consciousness back to your body. You don’t open your eyes yet, but rather focus on the things you can feel: a tongue, forearms, panting breaths, saliva.

You’re surprised, but not because you’ve been woken up by someone touching you in your sleep. You’ve talked with Steve about this, the only risque kink you’d dared to share. You’re not even surprised he’s doing this while Eddie is in the same room as you two. Steve’s preferences are vanilla. Except, of course, the exhibitionism, but he hadn’t actually told you about it himself. However, with the number of times you’ve had a quickie in a public bathroom, it was easily deductible.

No, your surprise comes from the fact that he’d even go down on you at all. Sure, he’s fingered you before, but fingering someone so you can get your dick wet versus eating someone out for their pleasure are two very different things. And, now that you’ve experienced both, you can definitely feel the difference.

You’d never imagined a tongue would feel so good. It provides a unique warmth and wetness, and you swear that you can feel the texture of his taste buds against your skin. He slides his tongue lower, just barely dipping into you to gather your slick. Gasping at the sensation, you bring your hands up to press the heels of your palms into your eyes. Steve is very particular about his precious locks. The first time you’d tugged on his hair was also the last.

Realizing you’re awake, he presses harder on your inner thighs to keep you in place, and you’re reminded he’s not using his hands but rather his forearms. It strikes you as odd, but again, this has never happened to you, so you can’t be sure what to expect. He trails the tip of his tongue back up, tracing through your folds slowly. Finally arriving at his destination, he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Unfurling his tongue, he allows the mixture of his saliva and your slick to drip onto your skin.

He must have been edging you for a while before you woke up because his touch is like an electric shock, sending instant jolts of pleasure up your spine and through your fingertips. He slides his arms down until his hands can grip your legs, rough callouses tickling your skin. Unable to stop yourself, you reach under the blankets and clutch onto his curly hair.

Wait.

Rough callouses. Curly hair.

Not Steve– but your revelation comes too late. With a single press of his tongue against your clit your orgasm comes crashing heavily down on you. All you can do is grip onto the strands of hair threaded between your fingers and whimper.

With shaky hands, you remove your hands from his head to grab the edge of the blanket and hold it up. Eddie’s already looking at you, his huge, dark eyes reflecting the dim light from outside. Swallowing thickly, you watch as he runs his textured palms up the backs of your thighs. He hooks his hands underneath your knees and pushes you into a breeding press, crawling upwards to hover above you.

You feel like you’re in a trance, heart racing and unable to say anything. His erection is heavy, pressed between your hips as he settles. The moonlight catches his face now that he’s free from the blankets, drawing attention to the curls which are pulled back. He swiftly shakes his head, releasing them and causing the pick of his necklace to fall directly over your heart. In any other situation, it would be romantic. Right now, though, your focus is your confusion.

You mumble his name so softly you’re not sure if he hears it, but he does. He maintains strict eye contact as he leans directly over your head. Your lips are millimeters apart when he whispers, “Shh, wouldn’t want to wake your boyfriend up. Wouldn’t want him to know what a whore you are. His innocent little baby being ‘entertained’ by her best friend.”

He starts rocking his hips, all the saliva and wetness from earlier providing sufficient lubrication. You sharply inhale through your nose. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you dig your fingernails into your palms and screw your eyes shut. Eddie hums above you, “Or maybe you wanna make some noise. C’mon, let it out. We can show him how much of a bad influence I am.”

No matter how hard it is, you resist, but Eddie continues to push you to speak.

“How many times have you two fucked?”

You wince at the harshness of his words, trying to come up with an answer to satisfy him. You rack your brain for recollections of sex so you can count them, but it’s so, so hard when he’s grinding on you, invading your space and your senses, breathing in the air you’re panting out.

“Ten times,” you breathe, hoping Steve will wake up but praying to God that he won’t.

“No,” he sneers, brows furrowing as his eyes grow darker, “no, that’s too perfect.” Eddie leans towards the side of your head, his hair tickling your cheek as his lips press snugly against your ear, growling directly into your brain, “Think harder, babe.” It feels like his words are rattling around inside you, bouncing off your empty skull as all thoughts leave your mind. You squeeze your eyes shut, lower lip quivering as you desperately pull memories back into your brain from your clouded consciousness.

Twice in your bed, four times in his, three times at parties, once in his car, five times in public restrooms, and once in a storage closet. Sixteen times you’ve had sex in the six months you’ve been dating.

You gasp “sixteen” just as he ruts his hips up, his cock pressing harshly on your clit. The feeling borderlines on painful. Gritting your teeth, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, digging your nails deep into his skin.

Suddenly he stops all movement: no more pants and breaths, no more rustling of sheets, nothing. An eerie silence surrounds you as you open your eyes again, confused, watching the moonlight bounce off the ceiling. Anxiety rises in your chest. What could he be doing? Why is he silent? Why did he stop?

Then, he whispers, but you swear it’s the loudest thing you’ve ever heard, “How many times has he made you cum?” Your stomach drops as everything in your body tenses, jerking to escape but getting nowhere. Instinctively, your legs attempt to close, but his firm grip on the back of your knees keeps you in place.

You don’t want to respond, to expose yourself and your boyfriend, but it’s hard to resist when he purrs “answer me” so sickly sweet. Finally moving away from your ear, he trails soft kisses down your neck as he waits for you to speak. It’s so confusing. How can he be so mean and turn around to be so nice?

Squirming around does no good. His body is like a cage that pins you down. There’s no escape. Resigned, you whimper, “twice,” as embarrassment floods your system.

He sighs, pressing his head into your shoulder. “You deserve so much better. Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum more times than he could,” he murmurs promisingly against your skin. With that, he removes one hand momentarily to line himself up with your entrance before pressing in.

He feels bigger than Steve, but you can’t be sure because of the position– you’re basically folded in half. He lightly thrusts, going deeper each time to ease himself in since he hadn’t really prepped you before. Finally, he loses his patience and pulls back out to slam all the way in. You choke on nothing, feeling like his dick has hit the back of your throat.

“Shh,” he whispers tauntingly before doing it again, and again, and again. The brutal pace doesn’t leave much time to think, but even with your brain clouded with pleasure, you know that Steve should be awake right now. If not the movements, then the noises should have woken him up, yet he remains sound asleep. You only attempt to turn your head towards him once. Eddie literally growls, a rumble that reverberates from his chest to yours. It’s a warning, don’t look at him, look at me.

It’s too soon, but you’re so wired that you can feel a second orgasm building up. Typically, it takes a while for you to cum, which is probably why it’d only happened twice with Steve– both by your own hand. Somehow, with Eddie, every single one of your senses is dialed up to one hundred.  Maybe it’s because you already have a boyfriend, or because said boyfriend is asleep a few feet away and could wake up at any moment.

Regardless, it doesn’t matter because the effect of the thrill is still there, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Eddie had leaned back to observe you some time ago, but you reach your hands out, desperate for contact or, at the very least, something to hold. He leans in, and you immediately cling to his neck, squishing your face into his skin. You get no warning as you cum suddenly, biting down on his neck to prevent being too loud.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie hisses, stopping his thrusts to feel how hard you’re clenching down on him. “Fuck, you get so tight when you cum,” he observes, breathless, before he demands, “You’re gonna give me another one.” Alarmed, you whimper as he moves again. You’ve barely come down from your high. How are you supposed to do it again?

Your eyes leak tears as you whimper, “Eddie,” trying to get his attention. It works. He gives you a little faux pout and kisses your tears away. He’s stopped moving entirely, dedicated to his little kisses. You’re grateful for the break, so overstimulated that you can’t hold in your noises anymore. But then, he starts to move again, and your heart drops.

He assures, “You’re okay, baby. Just one more.” Your lip quivers as you start to cry again. Internally, you can feel his cock twitch at the sight of your tears, which only makes you sniffle more and insist you can’t. “Yes, you can,” he coos, “be a good girl, just one more time.”

He unhooks his right hand from your leg, and you instantly drop it onto his shoulder, flexing your foot to relieve some of the pins and needles tingling throughout your leg. Wrapping his arm around your thigh, he presses his thumb to your clit and rubs it in tight circles. The change in angle combined with the extra stimulation causes that pleasurable haze to return, and you hate it.

You hate that after one night, he knows your body better than your boyfriend of six months. You hate that he’s taking what he wants but still being more considerate of your needs than Steve ever was. You hate that this is everything you’ve fantasized about and more.

“Say that I’m better than him,” he demands. You don’t reply, too lost in your wandering mind and the feeling of his dick to form a coherent thought. Wanting an answer, he presses harshly with his thumb and repeats, “Say it.”

Automatically, you clench around him at the pressure. You muster up the courage to whisper, “You’re better than him.” Guilt laces through your words because you know that it’s true. Even if he forced you to say it, you know in your heart it’s true.

He changes his pace at your words, slowing down slightly, but making up for it in intensity. His thrusts, which were already deep, feel like they’re going even further inside you. Yet again, tears obscure your vision. You’re not sure if they’re from guilt or pleasure, but does it really matter anymore? When you look up, you can barely see Eddie; he’s just a beige and brown blur above you.

Reaching up, you rest your hands on his cheeks before sliding them upwards to push the hair out of his face. Though you can barely see him, you can make out the genuine smile that spreads across his face. You can’t help but smile in kind. Eddie laughs softly, “God, you’re so pretty.”

He touches his forehead to yours, noses brushing every time he moves. You sigh “Eddie” as you tug his hair. The small moment of intimacy pushes you to the brink. You hope he understands your subtle warning.

“I know. I feel it, too,” he reassures gently, “Just let go, baby.” At his insistence, you release. Stars explode behind your eyelids as you scrunch them shut and ride out your orgasm. This time, the clenching of your walls is too much, and he releases deep in your pussy. He remains inside of you, incidentally keeping his cum trapped.

Afraid Eddie’s gonna turn over and go back to sleep like it never happened, you cling onto him like a koala. Meanwhile, he glances over at Steve and rolls his eyes. It’s honestly ridiculous that he slept through the whole thing. Eddie had planned for Steve to wake up and see his girlfriend having the best sex of her life, so he could throw him the bird and tell him to fuck off and never return. Guess that’s not happening.

You whine and tremble beneath him, so he returns his attention to you. “You did so well for me, baby. What a good girl,” he praises as he runs his hands up and down your sides comfortingly. Somehow, he picks you up without pulling out. While walking to the bathroom, he grabs your underwear and shorts he’d discarded a while ago.

Eddie makes sure the door is completely closed before turning on the light. He places a towel on the counter and sets you down on it. Finally, he removes his dick, holding up the hem of your shirt. Well, really, it’s his old Metallica shirt, but you stole it to sleep in.

You know what he’s doing, his eyes trained on your hole, waiting to see his cum leak out of you. You squirm under his scrutiny, but he doesn’t look away until you’ve stopped dripping. Eddie finds a second towel and soaks it in water, cleaning himself off and searching for a relatively clean pair of underwear. While he’s occupied, you flex your feet as you had earlier. The pins and needles are killing you. You’re probably gonna be sore for a month after this.

Right now, you don’t want to be alone. You reach out when he moves too far away, even a few feet too much for you to handle. He returns, using the same towel to clean you as well. Your legs are wobbly when he moves you off the counter. You have to lean on him for support as he helps you slip on your panties and shorts. He places you back on the counter, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck. “I love you,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly when he realizes what he said, but it’s too late to take anything back.

What he doesn’t expect is your you to whisper “I love you, too” back. Pulling back, he looks you in the eyes, confused. You continue, “I’m dating Steve cause– cause I didn’t think you liked me back.”

His face scrunches up, “What are you talking about? I’ve always loved you.” In your emotional state, you just cry from the stress, and the fucked up reality of what you’ve done to Steve, and the fact that you could’ve had Eddie all along. He doesn’t say anything more, just kisses the top of your head, but you swear that you can feel teardrops gently splashing on your scalp.

[keepingupwiththeserotonines]

I need a fix it fic for this fic. 🥺😭

I'll start it....

After he professed his love to you, Eddie softly kissed away your tears as you held hands and climbed into his bed planning on what to say to Steve in the morning.

You knew he would immediately jump to conclusions that this had been happening the entire time you were together, but Eddie would be there to stop anything from getting out of hand.

Steve would acknowledge that he was a selfish lover and boyfriend, and admit defeat to Eddie "The Freak" Munson in the quest for your affections. He would leave Eddie's trailer and walk back to the diner before driving off to find solace in Nancy Wheeler's open arms and bed.

And everyone lived happy and smutty ever afters. 😂

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First of all, I’m so glad you liked my fic! And I think it’s hilarious that you wrote a fix it blurb for my fic lmao

Second af all… are you a mind reader? Because this is basically the plot for part 2, just without the rose-tinted lense. Of course, HCDILIC isn’t entirely realistic, but I still want there to be a real reaction to what happened. Honestly, none of the characters are in the right, literally everyone did something wrong. And, just because Steve was a dick, doesn’t mean he should have his deepest insecurity be brought to fruition. So your prediction will be happening, but it will be more angsty than this. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to fit in smut or not because of how emotionally charged the second part will most likely be. However, I will make sure it has a happy ending, because honestly I can only take so much angst lmao. I’m v soft, it hurts my heart to write angst waa :[

And, yes, this is confirmation that part 2 will be happening, so feel free to ask to be tagged in the comments

[strictimeline]

could you please please please write this,literally everyone I've asked doesn't want to write my idea!

ok so basically reader x Eddie Munson. Reader and him are on the roof of reader's house,both looking at the sunset,when reader wants to try smoking for the first time. Also they're giving each other surprise birthday presents because their birthdays are 6 days apart. (Eddie's is first,then reader's is 6 days after)(Oh and Eddie gives reader a mixtape and a malachite ring to match it with her malachite necklace and reader gives him crystals and a lot of expensive metal casettes and he flips).

A lot of fluff,really. Oh and they're not dating,they just have the biggest crush on each other.

Title: Real Rings and Expensive Things

Pairing: Eddie x gn!Reader (fluff, mild angst)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Marriage Iguana (Marijuana), Eddie And Reader Are Stupid Idiots, Reader Is Down BAD (And Also Super Impulsive)

A/N: While thinking up ideas for this oneshot, I became enamoured with the characters I created. I think I’m going to make this an entire AU, but I don’t want to make the original anon uncomfortable, so this specific oneshot will be a spinoff and not canon in the universe. Most of my ideas aren’t relevant to this piece anyways, so I hope it’s okay!

I didn’t explain it in the oneshot, but the reader was adopted by a super rich couple. Also, I changed the request a tiny little bit. You freak out more about your gift than he does for his, but there’s a good reason for it. I hope you like it, anon! <3

By the way, I know absolutely nothing about crystals, so I kinda glossed over the crystal part. I didn't want to make any mistakes so I made it as vague as possible!

Masterlist

The sun is beautiful, golden rays barely peeking through the dense trees behind your house. Birds fly in the distance, most likely Sandhill Cranes– they call the wetlands beyond the line of trees home. Clouds dot the sky, perfectly framing the sunset in pink and purple hues.

All of this natural beauty, and yet, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen is sitting right next to you. Eddie Munson, with his unruly curly hair and big doe eyes, has the most important star in this solar system beat.

He’s looking out, lips slightly parted in wonder, as he watches the horizon. Your heart clenches at the sight even though you’ve seen him thousands of times. He’s been hanging out with you since literal birth, his face is in photos posted all around your house, and he spends almost every Saturday with you. But, still, there’s something about his face that takes your breath away— every single time.

God, he’s so pretty. You desperately wish you could tell him. Sober, that is. Sometimes, when he’s so fucked up he can barely walk, you whisper the things you hold back. You’re not sure if he remembers or can even comprehend your words through the fog of his high, but you find comfort in the fact that somewhere, hidden deep in his brain, Eddie may know you love him.

Impulsively, you speak before your brain can stop you. He has to know. He needs to know.

“Eddie, I-”

But you choke, frozen like a damn deer in headlights.

He’s turned his head. Looking into his eyes, you’re consumed by an ocean of brown— hundreds of shades, highlighted by the golden sun setting to his right. The depth of his stare cuts deep into your heart, and you see adoration, and kindness, and warmth. Things that most people never bother to see or even look for within him. The grim reality hits: you’d never be able to ever emotionally recover if he rejected you.

What if he only sees you as a friend? Or worse, a sibling. Your parents basically adopted him, too, all those years ago. It wouldn’t be surprising if he saw you as family and nothing more. Would he stick around after you’ve confessed despite the awkward air when he rejects you? Or would you drift apart until he’s just a ghost from your past? Overwhelming emotion wells in your chest. How could you live without him?

You turn your head away to hide the quickly forming tears, pushing the fear of abandonment down. “Can-” you swallow thickly, willing the pain away, “Can you. Er– Well, can I smoke? I know I haven’t tried it before, but– Just, well– yea.” Heat floods your entire body, you’re absolutely mortified. Sure, you couldn’t confess, but damn, did you have to make a complete fool of yourself?

He chuckles lightly, an attractive sound to match his attractive face. “Haven’t even tried cigs yet, and you wanna go straight to weed?” he questions, raising his brow.

You scoff, trying to hide your emotions behind annoyance, “How do you know I was talking about weed?”

“Would you have gotten all stuttery over a cigarette?” Well, he had you there.

Lamely, you shrug. He huffs but digs around in his jean pocket, pulling out a ziploc with a joint. To this day, it still shocks you how brazen he is with his drugs. When you were in school together, he’d bring his food in the same metal lunchbox he carried the little baggies of marijuana in. You assume he still does it, not that you’d know definitively since you graduated in ‘84.

“It’s your first time, so you’re probably gonna cough your lungs out,” he motions to the water bottle at your hip, “You’re gonna need that.”

“Is it… that bad?” You ask hesitantly. The only information you had to go on was Eddie’s ramblings about what it feels like to be high and your observations from when he’d smoked in your presence. You say “observations,” but really, you’d just been watching his lips.

“For most people, no,” he comments casually as he flicks on the lighter.

You quickly snap back, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I know you. You’re gonna find a way to choke to death on the smoke.” The little shit is smirking while he says it, knowing you’re gonna be angry with him. Your nose scrunches up, offended, but you don’t say anything because you know he’s absolutely right. Again, he chuckles.

Refocusing on the task at hand, he explains what to do before showing you a demonstration. Yea, you’re definitely gonna need the water. He doesn’t even bother handing the joint to you, instead holding it in front of your lips. Butterflies flutter intensely in your stomach. Fuck. He’s so hot, and he doesn’t even know it.

Maybe when you lean in, your lips “accidentally” brush against his fingertips, but who can really tell? Following his instructions, you don’t immediately breathe out the smoke. It feels… odd? A little uncomfortable, too. You’re sure it shows through your expression, judging by the amused look on Eddie’s face.

Finally breathing it out, you feel like someone’s just punched you in the throat. The muscles seize up suddenly, causing you to double over and cough hard. In the background, you can hear Eddie laughing at you.

He’s laughing. You’re dying, and he’s fucking laughing at you.

Once he’s done giggling at your expense, he scoots next to you and rubs circles on your back with his hand until you can breathe again. Snatching the water, you drink half of it in one go. You scowl at him, but he grins wide in return. Holding out his hand again, he asks cheekily, “Ready for another?”

Still aggravated, you go in for a second time, nipping his finger before you lean back. He murmurs “ouch” half-heartedly, but you both know it didn’t hurt. This time goes over much smoother, and you’re grateful because you don’t think your throat could take that again.

This continues until there’s barely anything left. He drops the burned paper onto the roof unceremoniously and squishes it under his boot. You really should say something, but this is a fight that’s lasted for years. Realistically, if he hasn’t stopped dirtying your section of the roof, he never will, so you decide not to bother.

You can feel him shift because of your head on his shoulder. When had you done that? Oh well, it doesn’t matter because he’s speaking. “Do you wanna exchange gifts now?”

Right, you’d completely forgotten about those. Today is what you affectionately call the “communal birthday.” Eddie’s birthday was three days ago, and yours will be in three more days. It’s the perfect in-between. As children, you’d have birthday parties together on your communal birthday. They had been fun in the moment, but looking back, you’re somber, knowing your parents threw those parties because his own parents didn’t care about his birthday. But, you shouldn’t dwell on such sad topics when you’re about to exchange gifts.

Humming, “Mhm,” you reach over to grab his present. A carefully wrapped cardboard box, tied together with a blood red ribbon. You used children’s Star Wars-themed wrapping paper, of course.

“Wow,” he whistles, holding up the box to admire the print, “Darth Vader, huh?” Giddily, you giggle and turn your head to press your face further into his shoulder. He smiles down at you, “You’re so quiet when you’re high. Normally, I can’t get you to shut up.” You just stick your tongue out at him.

He struggles for a little too long with the bow, but you don’t help him. You’re considering it payback for the teasing things he’s said tonight. Finally, he unties the ribbon and takes off the wrapping paper. He hands the ribbon back to you, knowing you’d reuse it. Gingerly, he picks up the lid and reveals the red tissue paper you’d used to protect the contents.

Carefully, he plucks out the sheets one by one. You smile wide at how gentle he’s being, obviously trying to be mindful of your gift. He comes across the first part of your present, a collection of various crystals, each with different uses and meanings. You want to tell him what they all do and represent, but words are escaping you at the moment. Instead, you promise, “I’ll explain ‘em t’you when ‘m sober.”

“Alright, I’ll hold you to it,” he responds, setting them off to the side. Returning to the box, he pulls out the last few pieces of tissue paper, revealing the best– and most costly– part of his gift.

“Holy fuck!” he blurts, taking a few in his hands to examine them. Limited edition cassettes, eight of them. All on his wishlist and all expensive. “I thought we agreed not to use your parents’ money?”

“Oh,” you mumble, feeling a little embarrassed, “I didn’t.” 

He chuckles in disbelief, swapping the ones in his hands for the tapes left in the box, “Sweetheart, these are worth at least two of your paychecks.”

Yes, you’re working, even though you have rich parents. They’re big on humility and work ethic, so they’d encouraged you to get a job while attending community college. Not that you’d really needed one to form a work ethic. Sure, you grew up with money, but you weren’t spoiled. If anything, Eddie made sure of it, drilling into your head how important it is to not take your wealth for granted.

It was a little… how do you say? Impulsive to buy these for him, sure. But Eddie’s your best friend, and he’s always been there for you, so he deserves a thoughtful gift to show him just how much you appreciate him.

Your mind completely skips over the fact that he’d called you a pet name.

His reaction makes you insecure, so you ask, “D’you not like ‘em?” You still have the receipt somewhere in your room, so you can probably return them if he really doesn’t want the cassettes.

“Not like ‘em?” he repeats, astonished, “I fuckin’ love ‘em! This is an amazing gift, thank you.” He continues to flip all the cassettes over in his hands, inspecting them. They’re in pristine condition, so hopefully, Eddie will keep them safe.

You beam, “Your welcome!” excited he likes the tapes. You’d spent a lot of time thinking of what to get him, so you’re glad your thoughtfulness paid off.

He sets the box aside and picks up his present for you. It’s in a gift bag that you two have been swapping for years, but you’re happy to see it again. There’s colourful tissue paper covering the contents and spilling out the top.

You grab it carefully, as he had, and take your time unwrapping the present. The cassette grabs your attention first, and you chuckle at your similar gifts. It looks like it’s a blank until you turn it over and see Eddie’s signature handwriting on the front. It reads: “Really Cool Mixtape” and has a skull, heart, and fire symbol drawn next to the words. You bite your lip to hide your smile. He’s so adorable. Fishing in the bag, you find a piece of paper pressed against the bottom.

Opening the folded paper, you can’t stop your smile this time. It’s a song list, but what really draws your attention are the crudely drawn doodles of skulls, hearts, and fires in the blank space on the margins. The same shapes that are on the cover of the cassette. You decide to close it, wanting to discover the songs he chose organically.

Grinning wide, you exclaim, “Thank you! I really love it, Eddie.”

“That’s not all,” he says slowly, as if he’s not sure whether he wants to say it or not. Pulling something out of his pocket, he places it gingerly in your hands. You hesitate before looking down.

It’s a simple dark brown box. You take off the top, revealing cream pleather embossed with a fancy logo directly in the center— a jewelry box. Looking up at Eddie, he doesn’t meet your gaze, instead glancing bashfully to the side.

You turn the boxes over so the cream one will fall into your palm. Flipping open the top unveils a beautiful silver and malachite ring.

Sure, you’re high, but you’ve been around authentic jewelry your entire life. This is one hundred percent real, down to the 925 imprinted on the inside of the ring. The malachite appears to be high quality, too, the bands of colour within the stone being distinct and striking.

The ring is so delicate, the polished green stone in the middle is surrounded by silver leaves, which are attached to stems that intertwine to make the band. It’s an exact match to the necklace you’re wearing right now. The one that your mother bought for you when you turned eighteen, the one that’s made by an expensive designer who charges ridiculously high prices. Yea, that one. And now, it’s your turn to freak out.

“Holy shit, Eddie! Oh my God! Holy shit! Eddie! Oh my God!” your words loop as you try to accept just how much his gift cost. If yours is worth two paychecks, his is worth five, easy. You can’t even imagine the amount of drugs he’d had to sell to pay for it.

You carefully take the ring out of the box and slip it onto your finger, holding your hand up to examine it. He smiles sheepishly, “Do you like it?” Your jaw literally drops. How could you not like it? Your mouth moves before your brain can filter your words.

“I– I love you.” Fuck.

You just sit and stare at each other, not moving an inch. Dread settles heavily on you. You’ve just ruined everything. He’s going to leave and never come back. Tears gather in your eyes as you whimper uncertainly, “Eddie.” That seems to break him out of his trance.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not lying?”

“No.”

In place of words, he grabs you and brings you into a tight hug. You’re a little disoriented but still cling to him, regardless. “I’m so stupid,” he murmurs in your ear, sending shivers up your spine, “I love you, too. Ever since middle school.”

You smile, pulling back, “Me too.”

He grins up at you, “Well, the buzzcut was irresistible, really. Everyone wanted me.”

You both burst out laughing. Eddie’s buzzcut was so bad that he refused to let your parents hang any photos of him from that era. Calming down, Eddie lifts his hands to your face. He rubs his thumbs across your cheek before pulling you down for a sweet kiss just as the sun passes below the horizon. You swear you’ve never been happier, even if it took years to finally get here.

For someone so emotionally intelligent, he always fell short when it came to you.

But maybe you were the same way.

[buckysdove]

- 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒!

𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 -> *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!

𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

(note: have i became the biggest eddie munson whore slut stan the world has ever known? maybe. am i mad about it? absolutely fucking not. am i gonna keep recommending fics as long as this love lasts? you bet your bottom dollar i am!!! )

𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 • @adorajane

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

eddie is pretty when he’s sleeping, but he’s even prettier when he’s awake. and kissing you.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 • @siempre-bucky

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Waking up by Eddie's side after your first time, who knew he could be any more loving?

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 • @pixiehollands

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

the girl in eddie's favourite porno mag looks real familiar...

“𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢’𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.” • @rainylana

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you’re new at hawkins high, and the hellfire club practically kneel at your feet.

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛 • @nezuscribe

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

eddie munson feels terrible that a sweet girl like you has such a terrible boyfriend. it'd be a real shame if he couldn't help you out.

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 • @stranger-nightmare

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Eddie’s been distant and self conscious about his body ever since the bat incident in the upside down, meaning the two of you haven’t slept together for a while, when you finally confront him on it he vows to make it up to you...

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • @sauza

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦

With a little bit of Mercyful Fate to set the mood, sprinkle in some of Neville's Haze, and add a whole lot of tongue, teeth, and everything in between - does it not sound romantic to make love with your boyfriends in Eddie's shitty van as the Sun sets on Lover's Lake? Probably not.

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 • @theoreticslut

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you were a part of hellfire long before your brother and his friends got to high school, yet they fit right into the club while you get pushed aside. 

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 • @creme-bruhlee

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

your period cramps are especially bad one night, and, after letting him in on a secret, eddie offers himself up to help you feel better.

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 • @iliaclwrites

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

The one where the boys don’t know that Eddie Munson is dating the pretty assistant librarian that always helps them out. Dustin has a crush on her. Mike thinks it’s fake. Erica just wants to get home to watch Thundercats. 

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 • @arminsmommmy

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

prom is coming up. you wanted to go with eddie, eddie didn’t wanna go with you. at least that’s what you thought. insecurities kick in and you refuse to talk or look at eddie. but he can’t stand a day without talking to you. how is he supposed to apologise when it’s a total misunderstanding?

𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 • @siempre-bucky

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

You thought you'd seen every side of your boyfriend. Then you saw how he spent his time on a rainy day.

𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 • @indouloureux

• 𝘥𝘢𝘥 !𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘮𝘰𝘮 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

eddie's excited for halloween. maybe even more than his daughter.

𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 • @deathlycupidd

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

eddie munson likes to tease you. a lot. so what happens when you give the same energy back?

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 • @queers-gambit

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 • @strangermarvelss

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Eddie has a date, with someone who isn’t you. you’re less than thrilled about it.

𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 • @letterstotheflre

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘣𝘶𝘴!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

tonight was supposed to be the night you finally fed, only somehow eddie munson manages to satiate your appetite without losing his life. (jennifer’s body au)

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 • @loeyparker

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you and eddie see eachother for the first time after you broke the friendship to protect him from the upside down.

𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • @marvelsswansong

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

out of all the girls Eddie could like, of course he'd pick Jason Carver's girlfriend. He kept ignoring the warnings, and now he's in too deep.

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲-𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 • @moonlightsolo

• 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 !𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

eddie gave into his urges to feed on you, but when you wake up, are you going to be upset with him for his choice?

𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 • @masterofmunson

• 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 !𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘦𝘹 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

You’ve only wanted the best for Eddie, even if that means you’re no longer in his life. 

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞 • @hawkinshighdropout

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Chrissy wants what she can't have, Eddie. Your best friend and long-term boyfriend. Things are growing tense in the group as you are slowly being replaced by his new best friend. Only problem was? You were here first, and he is clueless.

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 • @julesclues

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

When your father comes back to town after a year only looking for trouble, you hurry to get your brother to safety. The only person to volunteer to help though, is Eddie Munson, the boy you didn’t really consider your friend, but not an enemy either. 

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 • @coolnamestillpending

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Y/n’s Jason’s girlfriend, but, a small event has her falling for the metal head ‘freak.’

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 • @webslinger-holland

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

To escape the likes of Jason Carver, the reader has to play a little game of pretend with Eddie Munson himself.

𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 • @loveronlineee

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Y/N had been crushing on her neighbour across the street for a while. It was about time she started trying to talk to him more.

𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 • @dyhayc

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Your best friend Eddie, your boyfriend Steve, and you have a sleepover at Eddie’s trailer. You wake up to Steve eating you out, but– is it really him?

𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 • @edddimun

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

What started off as a small argument turned into something much bigger than intended.

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 • @prettyboimunson

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

You’re feeling nervous about an upcoming date, and you need your experienced best friend to teach you a thing or two. Just as a friendly favor, of course.

𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 • @//loveronlineee

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 !𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Dustin becomes slightly worried when Eddie seems interested in his older sister

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @kaylawritesfics

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

while sleeping over at Eddie’s house, he lends you his most prized possession

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 • @eddiemslvt

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

After watching Eddie hotwire a stolen vehicle, you find yourself desperate for him. Impending doom be damned.

𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 • @murdrdocs

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

there’s nothing eddie loves more than spreading you open before a horror movie. well, besides bossing you around.

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 • @creme-bruhlee

• 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

eddie jerks off watching you get ready for work, not a lot to this tbh

𝐩𝐬 • 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

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Thank you for including me in your list! I'm so glad you liked my writing, it's always nice to have someone appreciate your work. It means a lot to me, thank you <33

[livederadx-deactivated20241014]

A collection of my fave Eddie Munson one shot fics! (18+)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the writing linked here. This is just a huge master-list filled with amazing fic writing and writers (who’ve honestly done a better job than the Duffer Brother’s… 🫢). All fics are afab/fem reader. Please reblog the writer’s work if you like it! Who cares for aesthetic when you can make someone smile! Link to my fave writer’s masterlists!

“Oh fuck baby” @kissitbttr

Innocence kink @ringpop-poppy

Hit Me With Your Best Shot @deathlycupidd

Hiding @coveredinsweetpea

She’s Mine @timejumpbucky

Everybody’s Talkin’ Up A Storm @iliaclwrites

Pool Party @slayedx

Eddie’s Reaction To You Calling Him… @hellfirexclub

Silence Is Golden @heavenlydevine

Flannel and Lace @ladylannisterxo

Miss You @fleurecrits

Eddie Pounding You From Behind @cruora

Living After Midnight @spiderrrling

Caught @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

Gentle With Me @swingsuckerswing

Make Up @ameliora-j

Say It @hcrringtonsbat

Selfish @msgorillagripcoochie

First Time @iguessweallcrazyithinktho

Handcuffs @green5070

Wet From Kissing Eddie @eddiebun

When I Kissed The Teacher @harrysweasleys

Eddie Fucks You During Hellfire @maraudershoes

Those Stains… @eufezco

Show Me @roanniom

Cockwarming With Eddie @d4nshyp3r

Tutoring Eddie @indiefilmfatale

Good Slut @luv4yuri

Writer’s w/o a m.list:

@greengoblinswifey

Sex Dice

Riding Eddie While Smoking A Joint

@hellfirebabes

Sinner

Stress Reliever

His Rings

@dyhayc

A Polaroid Is Worth A Thousand Words

“How Do You Think Eddie Would Act…”

@eddiemslvt

After Watching Eddie Hotwire A Car…

All I Want

@murdrdocs

Girl With The Tattoo

An Order

@creme-bruhlee

Pile Of Polaroids

Not The Type

@doomsdaybby

Picture Perfect: Pt1 and Pt2

@prettyboyeddiemunson

Bad Boy, Good Girl

When I Think About You I Touch Myself

@fookinfandoms

Tatties

Number One Fan

Please let me know if you (a writer on this list) would like me to remove your link.

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I'm literally honoured that you liked my fics so much you'd recommend them! I never thought anyone would recommend my fics, so really, thank you so much <3

Btw I do have a masterlist here ^^