Summary: Eddie takes you out for a picnic, but gets more than he bargained for when you accidentally stay out all night.
Warning: reader has bad relationship with her parents, mentions of abuse, mentions of grandma dying, mentions of reader not eating, no smut, fluffy eddie,
Word Count: 2522
"Y/n. Get in the damn van." Eddie orders, his arms crossed across his chest. You cross your arms, mirroring him. The sky has just opened up, raindrops splashing on top of your head. "No. I am not getting in your van." You argue, stomping your foot for added emphasis.
"We're dating. You have to get in my van." Eddie says, already exhausted from arguing with you. You've only been fake dating for a week, but everything has been an argument. Where you want to eat. When you want to eat. What he wears.
Everything is an argument with you.
"Why can't we take my car? Your van literally looks like a kidnapper van. If somebody sees you shoving me in your van, they're going to call the cops." You say, earning a small smile from Eddie. Even though he's exhausted, he can't deny how you make him laugh.
"No, they won't. Almost all of Hawkins knows we're dating now." He reminds you, opening the van door for you. Your white dress is sticking to your body, soaked through from the rain. You sigh, finally giving in. Once you're in the van, Eddie goes to the driver side, climbing in.
When you joined Eddie at the lunch table the day after you agreed to date, word spread quickly. By the time school got out, your parents were waiting at home for you. You were worried your father would hit you again, but thankfully, all he did was yell.
All he did was tell you what a disappointment you were, tell you that you were grounded, tell you that he had never been so embarrassed in his whole life.
The only reason you were able to see Eddie today was because you told your parents that you had practice after school.
"What are we doing, anyway?" You ask, watching Eddie back out of his driveway. His hand is on the back of your headrest, his eyebrows furrowing as he focuses.
"Can't tell you," He mutters, turning back to face the road. You huff, leaning your head against the window. Your legs are covered in goosebumps, thanks to your soaking wet dress. You try to focus on the road, but Eddie catches your attention every now and then. Every time he sings, every time he laughs, every time he looks at you. You find yourself singing along with him, even to the songs you don't really know the words to.
Eddie pulls down a dirt road, catching your attention. "Oh, god. You're really going to kill me, aren't you? This is some sick joke. You're finally going to get back at me for being a bitch." You say, panic setting in.
Eddie laughs, shaking his head. He drives down the road, until you meet an open field. Eddie parks in the middle, looking over at you. "So, I planned a picnic for you. But..." He starts, motioning toward the rain. You smile, your heart warming. "So, I thought we could still have the picnic, but in the back of my van."
You laugh, nodding. "It's the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me," You say, wasting no time crawling to the back of the van. Eddie had prepared a blanket, a basket, and even some fresh fruit. Eddie crawls to the back with you, opening the back doors of the van. The rain is still falling, but it's not quite blowing into the van.
You watch the rain as Eddie prepares the food, mumbling something about not being able to cook, but you aren't paying any attention. You focus your attention on the rain, your dress still sticking against your skin. If you could stay here, forever, you'd be happy. Honestly, you'd be happy anywhere away from your parents.
"What are you thinking about?" Eddie asks, sitting next to you on the blanket. He hands you a bowl of fruit, but not without plucking a piece out for himself. You smile, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. "That I could stay here forever," You answer, watching as Eddie smiles.
"Yeah?" He asks. You nod, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth. Eddie leans closer to you, reaching out for your neck. You sit awkwardly still, your eyebrows furrowing. "What are you doing now?" You ask, huffing. Ever since you met Eddie, you've noticed that he's constantly picking. Constantly pulling stray pieces of hair off of your shirt, wiping crumbs from your face, anything to be near you.
Eddie pouts, frowning. "It's fading." He states, rubbing a gentle thumb over the old mark. You blush at the memory, pulling away from him. "Good. I thought my parents were going to kill me," You lie. Your parents never did notice the hickey, but you don't want Eddie to know that his plan didn't work.
Eddie smiles, pulling away from you. You smile at him, until it finally fades. "How do we make sure the lines don't blur?" You ask, confusing him.
"What are you talking about?" He asks, taking another piece from your bowl of fruit. You place it beside of you, leaning back on your hands. You shrug, watching as Eddie rests his back against the wall of the van. "I don't know. Just wanna make sure we remember that this is all fake." You say, missing the way he frowns. After hanging out with you for a week, he had convinced himself that you might actually enjoy being friends with him.
He had allowed part of himself to forget that this was all a stupid arrangment.
"Well, for one, I'd never willingly hang out with you." Eddie lies, starting to gather up the food and the baskets. You frown, reaching out your hand to stop him. "Hey, what are you doing?" You ask. Eddie shakes his head, ignoring your attempt to get him to stop. "We shouldn't be out here. I don't even know who owns this field. I don't want you to get in trouble," He mutters.
You laugh, swatting his hand away from your bowl of fruit. "Oh, c'mon. I don't want to go home yet," You say. Eddie stops, looking up at you. "You mean you'd rather sit in a dirty van with me than go home to your mansion?"
You laugh again, watching as he sits beside you once again. "You seriously have me all wrong," You say. Eddie frowns, studying your face. The rain has made some of your hair stick to your face, so he reaches out and brushes your hair away, earning a soft smile from you.
"Then tell me," Eddie says, watching as you turn to face him. "If I've got you all wrong, tell me about you."
You blush, only now realizing that you don't really want him to know about you. You don't want him to know that who you are is just an act to cover up what's really going on in your life. You don't want him to know that you're jealous of his life. He has no expectations, no pressure, no parents that can constantly hound him.
"Uh, okay," You say, taking a deep breath. You immediately start thinking of random, boring facts about yourself, but you can't bring yourself to tell him any of those things. He wants the important things.
"My brother and sister are twins, so they always left me out of things when we were growing up. I don't even talk to them anymore. My dad... Is hard to get along with. My mom is a perfectionist, so most of the time, I try to avoid her so she can't pick me apart." You say, unable to bring yourself to meet his eyes.
Eddie doesn't say anything, but he watches you. He watches how your fingers pick at the edge of your dress, how you open your mouth but you don't speak, how you're holding something back. "My grandma practically raised me until I was 14, until she passed. I don't talk to my parents unless I have to."
You stop there, not wanting to overshare more than you already have. You finally meet Eddie's eyes, only to be met with the same sympathetic look you knew he'd give you. You sigh, dropping your eyes back to your dress. "My dress is ruined," You mutter.
Eddie frowns as you deflect, reaching behind him and grabbing an old band t-shirt. Eddie's had his fair share of sleeping in his van, so he constantly has random shirts and boxers laying around. "Here. You can wear this. It'll be big on you, but it'll cover everything," He offers, blushing at the thought of you wearing his shirt.
You hesitate before you take the shirt, instructing him to close his eyes while you change. You stand up as much as you can, peeling your dress off of your body. Your bra is soaked through too, so you toss that to the side as well. You pull his shirt over your head, smiling when it reaches the tops of your thighs. "Okay, you can open your eyes now." You say, sitting back down beside of Eddie.
He's laying on his back now, his arms folded over his stomach. You smile down at him, silently laughing as you realize who you're hanging out with. A month ago, if someone had told you that you'd be wearing Eddie Munson's shirt in the back of his van, you would've told them they were insane.
Now, there's no place you'd rather be.
Even if it is all fake.
"You're not a bitch. You know that, right?" Eddie says, interrupting your thoughts. His eyes are closed, so you stare at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. When you don't answer him, he continues. "You said earlier that I was going to kill you for being a bitch. You're not a bitch. You're actually one of the nicest people I've met. A brat? Definitely. A bitch? Furthest thing from it." He says.
You smile, laying down next to him. Your shoulders are touching and you can smell the cheap shampoo he uses. "You're not so bad yourself, Munson." You mutter, closing your eyes as you listen to the rain get harder.
☼
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Eddie shouts, waking you up. You open your eyes slowly, confused, until you look around.
Shit.
Eddie crawls to the front of the van, cranking it up. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep." He scrambles, pulling out of the field. You hurriedly gather the baskets and the food, tossing them into the corner of the van. You join Eddie at the front of the van, groaning.
"My parents are going to kill me." You whine, watching as he doubles the speed limit. "I'll drop you off at your house, let you get some clothes, and then I'll take you to school. Okay?" Eddie says, reaching over to grab your hand. You sigh, nodding your head. Eddie mentally curses, angry at himself for letting you stay out all night. Sure, the point of this is to piss off your parents, but he doesn't want you to get into too much trouble.
The ride is silent until he pulls up to your house. Eddie yells out a simple reminder to hurry as he watches you run down your driveway. You fling the door open, gulping when you see your parents standing in the middle of the living room, on the phone with the police. "Yes, she- She's right here, actually. Thank you, officer." Your mom says, hanging up the phone.
You attempt to push past them, but your dad stops you in your tracks. "Where have you been young lady?" He asks, only getting angrier when he sees what you're wearing. "And where are your pants?"
Your face turns red when you realize you have Eddie's t-shirt on. "Practice ran late, so I stayed over at Angela's house. I just forgot to call." You explain, your heart hammering in your chest.
"And your pants?" Your mom asks, raising an eyebrow.
You falter, but only for a moment. "I spilled something on my dress, so I borrowed Angela's brothers shirt." You lie.
Your dad frowns, looking you up and down. "It's that Munson boy. You smell like cigarettes." He says, storming over to the door. You follow him, reaching out and grabbing him by the end of his shirt. "Daddy, please. Don't do anything to him!" You beg, tears swelling in your eyes.
"I suggest you go get yourself dressed and let your father and I worry about what we're going to do with this boy." Your mother says, storming over to you. She pulls your hand away from your father's shirt, causing you to weep harder. You can't let them do anything to Eddie, this was your idea.
You make a split decision, running to the laundry room. You grab the first pair of pants you see, quickly pulling them on. You find your favorite pair of shoes, slipping them halfway on your feet. You run back into the living room, listening as your father yells and shouts. You know you should be listening, but you can't. Not when you're worried about Eddie.
"Where do you think you're going?" Your father barks, watching as you push past him. You're halfway out the door, when your father shouts his ugliest threat yet. "Y/n, if you get in that van, there will be hell to pay when you come home!"
Normally, a threat like that would be enough for you to obey him. But not now. You ignore him, your eyes focused on Eddie's van. Eddie is sitting in the van, his eyes widening when he sees you running to him, your parents running behind you. You jump in the van, slamming the door behind you. Before your father can reach you, Eddie is stepping on the gas, leaving them both behind.
☼
"You need to eat, y/n." Eddie says, pulling you closer to him. Dustin and Mike are sitting in front of you, picking your leftovers off of your plate. Eddie frowns, smacking their hands away. They pout, standing up and going to the other end of the table to steal from Gareth's plate.
You sigh, shaking your head. "I don't want to."
Neither Eddie or you have mentioned what happened this morning. You had hoped to hide the reality of your home a secret from Eddie, but now you're sure he knows what you're hiding. Eddie frowns again, pulling you onto his lap. You want to resist, but you don't have enough energy to. You've spent all morning crying in the bathroom, instead of in class with your friends.
He pushes your hair away from your face, looking into your eyes. "Not letting you go back to that house, y/n. I'm not." He says, softly. You sniffle, wiping your eyes. "Eddie, no one can hear you. You don't have to act like you care." You mutter.
Eddie frowns, lifting your face. "Hey, this isn't fake, y/n. My concern for your safety will never be fake." He says, his eyes softening. You swallow, resting your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and curse him for blurring the lines.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || things are almost perfect with your boyfriend eddie, but you're too weak to resist when his uncle offers to fill in that missing piece. (it's basically porn without plot I don't know what you want me to say lmao)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 6.6k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || smut (18+ only), dubious consent (the reader is into it but hesitant), infidelity (see summary, reader is dating eddie, but there's a twist...), enormous age gap (reader is an 18-year-old high school senior, wayne is well into his 50s), alcohol consumption (by wayne), unprotected sex, oral sex m and f receiving, breeding kink, daddy kink, spanking, hair pulling, degradation/dumbification ("slut" "whore" "dumb" "stupid"), overstimulation, somewhat inexperienced reader, somewhat creepy/aggressive uncle wayne
please read the warnings carefully before proceeding
It was always awkward when you came over to Eddie’s trailer too early and ended up having to make smalltalk with Wayne.
“So… how’s school?” he asked, standing by the kitchen counter as he nursed his beer.
“Good, good,” you nodded, chewing your lip. “I’m on track to graduate this year and everything.”
“That’s great,” he smiled politely, crinkles around his eyes becoming more pronounced. A longer silence followed before he cleared his throat. “Uh, you and Eddie’ve been goin’ out a while, huh?”
“Just four months,” you shrugged, “if you think of that as a long time.”
“For a couple’a kids, sure.”
“We’re not kids,” you denied, “I mean… I know we’re not really grown, but—”
“No, you’re right,” he reneged, “sometimes I forget how grown up you really are.”
You smiled slightly, twisting your sneaker on the carpet for a second.
“I mean, five minutes ago Eddie was just this punk kid who showed up at my doorstep,” Wayne recalled, “and now here he is bringing home his girlfriend. Never thought I’d see the day.”
You giggled a bit; “You’re not the only one,” you offered him with a smirk.
“Couldn’t believe my eyes when I first met you, honestly— cute, sweet girl like you? With a boy like him?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned. “Eddie’s sweet and funny and—”
“No, no, he’s a good boy,” Wayne corrected himself, “but he’s just that— a boy. You could have anybody you wanted in this town. And I just… didn’t expect him to be your first choice.”
You glanced down, not sure if you should just accept the compliment and move on, or question his logic further. “I-I dunno about that,” you offered shyly.
“I do,” he hummed, stepping closer to you. “Does he not tell you? Honey, you’re perfect.”
You choked; Eddie did tell you that, but it sounded different when Wayne said it. It meant something different when Wayne said it.
It… felt different.
“Well, um… thanks,” you mumbled, still looking away.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Wayne decided, “that he’s got you all to himself. Hope he knows what he’s got.”
You nodded, clutching your arms over your chest which warmed with memories of Eddie’s effusiveness; apparently the Munson family thought you were pretty special, even if you didn’t always feel that way.
“I would say that I hope he treats you right,” he continued, setting down his glass bottle with a quiet clink, “but… I know he doesn’t.”
You glanced up at him with wide eyes. Did he know something you didn’t? “Wh-what does that mean?” you asked worriedly, and he stepped closer again— looking down at you with a dark stare.
“I can hear you,” he whispered, “when you’re in the bedroom—”
He wagged his finger over your shoulder, towards the trailer’s bedroom where you and Eddie spent some nights together; your breath caught.
“— thinkin’ you’re being all sneaky, like I won’t hear you. But I do, and y’know somethin’? I can tell he’s not pleasin’ you right.”
You stepped back, and he stepped forward, and in a second he had you pinned against the kitchen wall. “I-I’m sorry,” you began, but he wasn’t finished talking yet.
“You make such cute little sounds,” he grinned, “but a real man should make you scream. S’that what you need, little girl?”
“I… I don’t…” you stammered, feeling so girlish and dumb in that moment as you failed to think of anything useful to say.
“Does he give you what you need? Just tell me,” he pleaded, voice softening. “Yes or no— are you satisfied by him?”
Hesitating, you eventually shook your head— even though you hated to admit it. Eddie was amazing, in so many ways, but he struggled with a few things… including making you come.
“Didn’t think so,” Wayne chuckled with a tilted smile— it reminded you of Eddie’s, actually.
You jumped slightly when he leaned in and brushed your hair away, kissing under your ear gently. Breath catching, your back started to arch up from the kitchen wall already; he was so delicate, teasing you carefully as your thighs clenched together.
“Tell me to stop,” he purred as his lips traveled more confidently over your neck. “Tell me you can’t, ‘cause you’ve got your little boyfriend to stay faithful to. Tell me it’s wrong. Tell me you should stick to boys your age.”
You opened your mouth, imagining saying everything he had, but only a whimpering moan fell out from your traitorous, gloss-stained lips.
“C’mon, babydoll, just tell me stop if you don’t want it,” he offered again, a rough hand moving higher and higher up your thigh until his fingers tickled under your dress.
“Don’t stop,” you heard yourself sigh, and in an instant his mouth was on yours. He tasted like tobacco and beer, but your tongue still dove forward in search of more.
His finger dragged over your panties, starting at the damp patch that had formed by your opening and curling up to nudge your swelling bud. “Lookit you,” he chuckled proudly, “little button’s all firm for me.”
The dull edge of his fingernail scratched lightly through the cotton, making you jolt and curl your toes inside your sneakers. “F-fuck,” you choked, and his mouth was on your neck again, but this time his teeth were nipping at you, too.
His other hand gripped your waist for a moment, before sliding down and groping your butt as you whined. “Mm, this cute little ass,” he growled, “you’re always showin’ it off with those skirts and short-shorts. Shoulda known not to tease me like that.”
When he brought his hand down firmly, it was still more of just a pat than a spank, and yet you shamelessly moaned out loud.
“You like it rough, huh?” he noticed with a proud tint to his voice. "Innocent-lookin’ ones always do. Fuck, you’re just too sweet, babydoll…”
You gasped when he dropped to his knees, reaching up under your dress to pull your panties down to your ankles.
“Y’sweet everywhere, honey?” he asked with a smug grin.
Your head fell back against the wall with a bang the second Wayne’s mouth was on you. He was eager yet precise, dragging his tongue up your slit, rubbing your thighs almost too hard as he sucked on your clit.
His moans were low and gravelly and you could feel them, they made everything vibrate and it was already almost too much; he didn’t have a lot of hair, but you found something to grab onto as he greedily tasted you. And as for the hair he did have, well, his mustache was tickling your sensitive skin, even brushing up against your clit when he pushed his tongue inside you— which should’ve been too scratchy but it felt fucking perfect.
“Oh my god,” you panted, “oh— fuck, I never— oh!”
“Y’never what— never got your pussy ate?” he realized, biting down on your thigh for a moment. “Now that’s just a fuckin’ waste.”
“E-Eddie tried,” you explained, “once… but it wasn’t— it didn’t feel like this…”
“‘Cause he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doin’,” Wayne explained before diving back in and making your knees nearly buckle with the way he circled his tongue around your clit. You didn’t remember being this sensitive— maybe it was the forbidden nature of it, maybe it was the way he went back and forth from teasing you to overwhelming you.
Or, very plausibly, it was because you had this poorly-suppressed thing for older men. It was one of those things you’d confessed just once to a close friend only to get thoroughly judged, and you never told anyone again. But Wayne saw right through you.
“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” he grinned up at you, making it clear in the way he asked his question that he already knew the answer.
“I’m more than twice your age, sweetie,” he reminded you, “you shouldn’t be thinking about things like that…”
In a specific way, you always thought Wayne was attractive— not exactly a pretty man, but rough in all the right ways. Though you never thought you’d admit it, you had wondered how his callused hands might feel on your smooth skin, how someone with all his experience would treat someone as delicate as you. Awkwardly, you nodded, and he let out a breath that tickled your most sensitive skin.
But then his tongue was on you again and you weren’t thinking about anything.
“Actually,” he mumbled against your skin, “I’m more than three times your age…”
You couldn’t believe he had the wherewithal to multiply in his head right now.
“Old enough to be your daddy,” he chuckled, and you whimpered.
“M-my dad’s not even forty,” you corrected thinly.
“Then I guess I’m nearly old enough to be your grandaddy,” he added with a laugh.
“Oh god,” you choked, “don’t say that…”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he grinned. “Makes your little pussy clench.”
He emphasized his point by tickling your opening with the tip of his finger, and you shivered.
Delicately pushing his finger in, barely to the first knuckle, he teased you with small movements and little licks on your bud. When he moved his finger just a bit deeper, he curled it against that ridge inside you that made your toes curl.
“F-fuck, why you gotta tease me so much?” you breathed. “If you know how bad I need it, you should just give it to me.”
He suddenly pulled away, standing up and making you feel terribly small as he stared down at you. “Give you what, sweetheart?” he asked darkly. You swallowed, melting into the heat of his body pressed against yours— his shirt was unbuttoned and he just had on a white tank top underneath, you could see his chest filling each time he took a breath… you could feel him getting hard through his sun-bleached jeans.
“Um…” you stalled.
“What do you need?” he asked again, tilting your chin with his fingers curled under it until you were blinking up at him dreamily.
“You,” you answered in a whisper, “need you… Daddy.”
The delicate brush of his touch under your chin switched suddenly to a tight grasp on your jaw, and he kissed you again; rougher than before, deeper, with his teeth grazing your lips and his tongue forcing your mouth open wider. It tasted different than before, too, because of what he’d done to you— and it made you even wetter to realize that.
You heard your own moans muffled by his mouth, and you felt his hands move down from your face to your waist, pulling you even closer— you found yourself desperate to feel his skin on yours, silently cursing all these clothes in the way.
He broke away and started to work on your neck again; he was relentless with the neck, that man, maybe because you moaned so loudly every time he licked along your pulse. "Taste how sweet you are?" he smirked. "Sweetest little pussy I ever tasted— I could eat you all night if I didn't have bigger plans."
He pulled you back with him as he crossed the living room and sat down wide-legged on the couch, guiding you into his lap which you straddled as you rested your hands on his chest through the undershirt.
“Naughty girl,” he groaned as you rocked your hips on him instinctively, “wanna be fucked already? I was just gonna play wit’ya, but you need more, hm?”
“Yes,” you panted.
“Need to be fucked hard and deep by a real grown-up?” he continued.
“Please,” you whined, gathering his checkered shirt into your weak fists.
“Need to be fucked raw?”
You choked, words failing you, and yet your hands were already at his belt.
“Mm,” he hummed as he watched proudly, “so fuckin’ needy. Y’know it’s not ladylike to be actin’ this way?”
You nodded, mouth falling slack as you reached into his open fly, finding his hot erection just on the other side of loose boxer shorts. “Daddy, please,” you whimpered.
"Why don't you put your mouth on it first, sweetie? Show Daddy what your little boyfriend taught you."
You hopped up off of his lap and knelt on the cheap carpet— it was a little rough on your bare knees, but you were hardly paying attention to that when you were at eye-level with his cock, stroking it in front of your face as you psyched yourself up for just doing it, just leaning in and taking it in your mouth…
“C’mon, nothin’ to be afraid of,” he soothed, “I know you wanna taste.”
And you did, so you leaned in and licked it like a lollipop— wide tongue, half-lidded eyes looking up at him as his smile faltered slightly.
You licked it a couple more times before you finally found the courage to tilt your head down enough to suck on the head properly. “That’s good,” he whispered to you, fingers brushing over your head gently, “there you go…”
He got even harder in your mouth, veins protruding and soft skin stiffening against your lips as you sat back on your feet.
He kept stroking your head, not quite pushing you down though you almost wished he would, humming proudly as you bobbed your head— taking a little more with each movement.
"Mm, fuck," he sighed, relaxing more until his head fell back on the top of the couch. "S'good, babydoll— can't believe that tiny mouth a'yours can fit all this dick in it."
Just to show off, you took him even deeper until you nearly choked, blinking up at him diligently to find a dark look in his eyes.
"I should give Ed some more credit," Wayne chuckled, "he taught you good. You suck cock like a proper little whore."
You pulled off when you needed air, smiling at him and wiggling your hips as you wished for more attention on your aching core. "You like it?" you assumed, and he didn't answer directly but did start to grab at your hair like he was about to pull you back down for more.
But you were one step ahead; you held his cock tightly in your hand as you moved your head down to suck one of his heavy balls into your mouth. You had to fight the urge to smile when he groaned and tilted his head back.
"Damn," he hissed, "I knew you wanted me, you made that obvious, but I never thought you wanted a taste of my balls. Such a dirty little girl…"
His fingers that had only been gently toying with your hair tensed into a firmer grip, and you felt his cock throb in your grasp as you moved to the other.
"Fuck, suck 'em harder, honey," he grunted. "Yeah— use your tongue, too, don't be shy. Daddy likes feeling your hot mouth on his balls."
So you kept going, hollowing your cheeks and fluttering your eyes shut as you drew random shapes with your tongue over the soft skin in your mouth. Your pussy was clenching on nothing, over and over— you were afraid you would start dripping on his floor considering your panties were around your ankles and couldn't protect you now.
"You like this, babydoll?" he prompted with a little grunt, and you released his sack from your mouth to give a long lick up the underside of his cock.
"They taste good," you gasped, "I can suck them some more, right? Please?"
"Yeah, sweetheart, go ahead," he chuckled, making you quickly lean in and lick a stripe over the seam between them.
Each movement of your tongue over his delicate skin made you needier, and your hips kept rocking helplessly in the air as you sought some friction to relieve the ache. Unfortunately, you didn't find any— and you were making the most pathetic, desperate noises as you lathed his cock and balls thoroughly with your tongue.
"I know you want more," he whispered, and you moaned again— you felt helpless to the desperation overtaking your body.
"Please fuck me," you sighed, "please—"
"Stand up and take that little dress off first," he told you, "Daddy wants to see all of you."
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood up, taking one step towards the door and facing him as he stared at you. He moved his hips slightly and gripped his cock as you finally took the panties off around your shoes and started to lift your dress. Having forgone a bra, you were left naked once the dress was over your head and tossed to the side, except of course for your—
"Shoes and socks too, babydoll," he instructed, and you bent down to untie the laces and slip the white tennis shoes off. Your cotton socks were next, and then you were just standing there, totally bare, his gaze trailing over you.
"Give us a twirl, honey," he cooed. "So cute… Eddie's got no idea what to do with all that, huh?"
You bit your lip and shook your head. He curled a finger as he watched you.
"Let me take care of you, cutiepie."
Approaching him again, you stood by where he was sitting as he reached up and rubbed your thigh, eyes drinking you in.
"I don't even know where to start," he laughed, "damn, I could touch you everywhere."
"Touch me here, daddy," you sighed as you straddled his hips again and guided his hand to your cunt. "Need you so bad…"
His fingers toyed with your clit and his free hand slid up your stomach to squeeze your breasts. "So greedy," he tutted, "this puffy little pussy of yours is just desperate for attention. Don't worry, babydoll, know just what you need."
He pulled your hips down and pressed your hot lips against his shaft as it curved up against his stomach. You sighed, trying to move so you could rub yourself on him, but his strong hold on you kept you still until you whined impatiently.
"You wanna get your hole stretched out by this big dick, don't you?" he noticed.
Biting your lip, you nodded.
"Then put it inside you, sweetheart," he ordered, "and ride me. Fuck yourself on my cock."
You lifted yourself slightly with your quivering legs, reaching down under yourself to grab him and guide the thick head to your waiting, lonely opening. Breathing quickly and feeling your heart race, feeling that pit in your stomach of searing hot guilt but ignoring it, you sank down onto him.
“Shit!” he groaned, pulling you down the rest of the way and snapping his hips up. “So fuckin’ tight, babydoll— god, Eddie’s a dumbass. Got this sweet, creamy little pussy to play with and he can’t even treat it right.”
You choked as you felt how deep he'd gone, whimpering as the gyrating of your hips forced your sensitive— almost sore— clit to grind on the rough patch of hair around his base. It felt so good already, your body on edge from being teased this long, and then you started really going.
Moaning unabashedly, you guided yourself up and down on top of him, unable to stop yourself with the friction felt so perfect. The ridge of his cock's soft head was so clear you could feel it inside you, stroking your walls— and you made sure to lift as high as you could each time so you could feel that ridge rub your spot perfectly. "D-Daddy," you sobbed, grabbing handfuls of his white undershirt to try to keep yourself in reality.
“Such an eager little thing,” he grunted, gripping your ass tighter as you rode him.
That you were— you felt totally out of control, addicted to the feeling, never wanting it to stop.
"Bounce on it, babydoll, jus' like that," he purred, "look at those cute tits while you ride— too fuckin' precious."
He sat up and suckled on one with a wide mouth, making you gasp and arch your back. As his lips moved to the other, his hands released your hips to massage each one as he sucked.
It made chills run down your back, it made more wetness gather and leak out around his textured shaft.
One hand kept groping your tits while the other slipped down and pressed on your belly gently, until his thumb found your clit, and with a proud smirk, he started to rub it in gentle circles while you rode him.
"Feels good?" he asked you softly, and you nodded. "I wanna feel how tight you can get, babydoll. You need to come, princess, I can tell— Daddy's here to give you everything you need, okay?"
"Mkay," you mumbled, melting under his touch as the movements on your clit enhanced every sensation.
"Daddy knows just how to stroke your cute little clit, hm? Gonna make you come so hard for me, right on my thick cock."
"Please," you choked, fists tightening; you opened your eyes, hardly having noticed you'd shut them, and looked down at him under you.
He had the slightest shine of sweat on his forehead, and a dark glimmer in his eye as he stared up at you; he looked prideful, of you and of himself. The more you tugged at his shirt, the more you revealed tanned skin, sun spots and freckles and scars, even a faded tattoo over his heart. You didn’t mind that it showed his age— not even the white chest hair bothered you.
"You're s-so sexy," you blurted out.
He laughed a bit. "I dunno about that— I'm just an old man, you could do better than me."
"Don't want better— I want this, I want you to fuck me like this," you whined.
"I know, babydoll," he offered with condescending sympathy, "y'get so horny you forget that the last thing you should be doing is getting your pussy filled by your boyfriend's dirty old uncle, huh? I understand— it's hard being eighteen, all that energy and nothing to do with it 'cause those high school boys can't make you come."
A shaky whine fell from your lips, but for all the conflictedness on your face, your body was more confident than ever as your hips sped up their movements. The hand still on your breast started to tease and tweak your nipple until you shuddered. Then he gave your breast a sudden slap— not too hard, but totally unexpected— and you gasped.
"Hm," he smirked, "you're a real wonder, sweetie. You look like an angel but you ride like a rodeo queen."
You smiled too, thinking that sounded extra funny in his accent.
"And you suck cock like a filthy little slut."
And it wasn’t quite funny anymore; you gasped a little and held tighter onto his shoulders, feeling shocks jump up inside you from where his thumb was still consistent and firm on your bud. It was building faster than it had before, hot and heavy and tingly at your toes and fingers.
"Feel so fuckin' good," he groaned through his teeth, "such a good little whore for me. Tight little thing, grippin' me just how I like— ah, fuck, a little faster, honey—"
You arched your back and slammed your hips down harder and faster, hearing the noise of skin on skin echo through the small space. "I-I'm… oh, god," you whimpered, trying to warn him about the pressure building inside you, but he picked up on it instantly.
"Gonna come? Good girl," he grinned. "Love making pretty girls scream— mm, just like that, keep going."
It was harder to keep your pace while the pleasure was beginning to take over, yet you were fighting for it harder than ever because you need more, just a little more and it would all break. And when it broke you knew it would feel so good.
"God, you're so fuckin' wet," Wayne grunted, "little pussy's soaking Daddy's dick, princess. Your juices are running down my balls."
It was so perfectly filthy, it made your whole body tense up even harder as your ecstasy crept up closer and closer.
"This whole fuckin' trailer's gonna smell like your pussy," he laughed breathlessly. "I could still smell you in the bedroom sometimes after you left, you know… wanted a taste of that sweet young cunt so bad…"
You felt a bit self-conscious hearing him talk about your scent; you'd always had an anxiety that it smelled bad or gross down there just because it didn't smell like cupcakes or lillies. "You… you really like how it smells?" you asked shyly between panting breaths.
"Yeah, smells fuckin' delicious," he snarled, nostrils flaring. "Smells like fresh, ripe pussy— best smell in the world, babydoll. Enough to drive a man crazy."
"O-oh," you stuttered, feeling yourself drip even more as he said that. "Oh, Daddy, I—!"
His thumb pressed harder on your clit and you sobbed shakily. “Nice an’ easy, baby, nice an’ easy,” he coaxed you gently, “just let go, let that little kitty make a big fuckin’ mess on me, hm?”
It hit you like a truck and your head fell back limply, tears falling down your temples as your eyes shut tight. His hands tightened on your hips, and as you stilled, he started to fuck up into you— forcing you to take more and more until you were worried you would scream loud enough for the whole trailer park to hear. “F-fuck,” you choked, mustering some strength to lift your head again and look down at him, “slow down, please…”
“God, that’s cute,” he laughed proudly, “m’not done with you yet, babydoll, not even close. That’s the best part of sweet young things like you, y’can go for hours and never tire out.”
“Yeah,” you panted, “but can you?”
He growled through his teeth as he pulled you down, until your face was so close to his, but his hand tugging your hair kept you and your needy, open mouth from kissing him. “Don’t give me lip, girl,” he warned, “or you’ll get a spanking.”
“Fuckin’ dare you,” you smiled, whining loudly as he brought a hand down hard on your ass. “Yes!” you sobbed.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he grunted, “your hole gives me a good squeeze when I smack this tight little ass.”
Another spank to prove his point, and you felt your hips rocking on top of him of their own accord.
“See? Knew you wanted more,” he laughed, “just need a little patience. M’gonna teach you so much, honey, gonna make you my little whore.”
Your eyes rolled back in your head, and he tugged your hair again. “Harder, daddy,” you begged, choking as he forced you to crane your neck with another pull on your hair. He sucked on your neck again, hard enough to leave a mark, and at the same time gave you two more firm spanks. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, s-so good…”
“What’s good, babydoll?” he prompted.
“You— you’re so good,” you answered, “y’fuck me so good, dick’s so fuckin’ good, Daddy…”
“Uh huh,” he encouraged, “how good?”
“B-best I ever had,” you hiccuped, “better than anything— fuck, s’yours, yours!”
“Goddamn,” he grunted, “this sweet little pussy, all mine?”
“Yeah,” you panted, “whenever you want it— oh god!”
“Baby,” he sighed, “don’t make promises you can’t keep… I know good dick will make you wanna say all kinds’a stuff, but you gotta control yourself.”
He held you tightly and flipped you around, laying you on the couch on your back and pushing your thighs up to your chest. When he slid himself all the way inside again, he went so deep that you could hardly stand it. “Oh fuck,” you sighed.
“Y’see it now?” he groaned. “See all that pretty cream you got on my cock?”
The angle he had your hips at was so dramatic that all you had to do was blink your eyes open and you could see it, the ring of thick, white arousal around the base of him. It was embarrassing— in an erotic sort of way— to see what you’d done.
“Messy little pussy you’ve got,” he smiled proudly. “Should make you clean all that up when I’m done— bet you’d like that, slut.”
He fucked into you rough and fast, his balls slapping on your ass— still sore from the spanking— with each thrust.
"You know somethin'?" he said suddenly, voice gruff and broken up with heavy breaths. "I've been around a while, I've had a lot of pussy, but yours? This cute, dripping little pink hole you've got? Might just be my favorite."
"Really?" you beamed.
"Mhm," he nodded, licking his bottom lip. "So sensitive… sweet and tiny and begging to be filled up. And you let me fuck it raw, too, you're so adorable."
Your cheeks heated up quickly, and suddenly the bare feeling of his cock inside you— with nothing at all in the way— was especially noticeable, especially taboo, especially wrong but oh-so-right.
"I know you know where the condoms are," he laughed, "Eddie goes through them like potato chips with you. Why'd you let me get my dick wet in your little hole, babydoll?"
"I— I dunno," you stalled, "I just… wanted to feel you. For real."
"Mm? Wanted to feel this hot cock, is that it?"
"Y-yeah…"
"It's not like wearing a rubber would make this responsible anyways, right?" he continued, laughing when you nodded. "God, you high school girls are just too sweet. Stupid, but sweet."
"Ohh, I… I'm not stupid."
"No, not always," he agreed, "Ed says you make straight A's. But you still came here when you knew he wouldn't be home yet, you still wore that dress and tried to act innocent, and you jumped on my cock as soon as you got the chance. You're just dumb when you're horny, honey, that's okay."
His thumb suddenly found your bud again, pressing down on it far too hard for how sore it was— it was somehow both numb and hypersensitive, and your whole body jolted when he rubbed it roughly.
"W-wait! S'too sensitive!" you whined, bucking your hips wildly to try to escape from how much it was.
"Shh, shh," he soothed, holding your hips tight to keep you still, "c'mon, let Daddy take care of you, sweetheart, let me play with that adorable little baby pussy, hm? Gonna make it so happy, honey, gonna help your hole make all that sweet cream to coat my cock…"
"Hurts!" you hiccuped.
"Yeah? But it's what you need— it's what you fuckin' need, you dumb slut."
Tears welled in your eyes as the pain somehow started to feel good just at the same time that the insults felt like compliments. It was all a bit of both, really.
"Can tell this hole loves my fuckin' dick," he groaned lowly, watching your face with a heavy stare as he licked his lips. "Can tell this hole belongs to Daddy now."
"Yes," you sobbed.
"And Daddy knows how to keep a pussy satisfied," he chuckled. "Know what a slutty little girl like you needs. Do you know what it is, babydoll?"
You shook your head.
"It's to get bred, sweetheart."
"Nooo," you whined, "m'too young to get pregnant."
"Too young? Bullshit, you're the perfect age— young and fertile, sweet little body begging to be knocked up."
"B-but—"
"You'd look so cute," he grunted, fucking you even deeper then until you gasped and clawed at the couch. "Belly gettin' bigger, tits all swollen… don't you think it'd be kind of funny, for the innocent high school girl to get knocked up by some old man from the trailer park?"
Not quite your idea of a hilarious joke; it was, admittedly, the titillating sort of terrifying to imagine, but even your cockdrunk brain knew it couldn’t seriously happen. “Don’t scare me like that,” you giggled.
"If it's so scary, how come you're about to come for me again?" he noticed with a grin.
“Hng, Wayne, m’gonna come, just p-pull out,” you choked, “please?”
"Okay, okay," he relented with a chuckle, "I'll pull out, but you need to come over here and suck me off with that pretty mouth until I come."
You nodded with a quick sigh, and he gripped your hips tighter.
“Come for me first, babydoll,” he grunted, “gimme another big squeeze— uh huh, just like that, fuck y’look so cute when you come.”
You quivered on the outside and convulsed on the inside, inner muscles spasming uncontrollably around him as a second, harder orgasm hit you all over.
He fucked you so fast, right in the middle of it, that you arched your back and made noises you didn't even know a human could make, let alone yourself.
Apparently he had some sense of mercy, because he stopped assaulting your clit, but he kept the brutal pace of his hips as you tried to catch your breath.
"Hear that? Hear how it sounds?" he grunted.
"Sounds… sticky…" you panted.
"Yeah," he agreed, "that's what it sounds like when a perfect little cunt is getting treated right. Look at what you did to me, look at all that cream…"
You struggled to get your eyes open but you did, seeing the thorough mess you'd made— clear and cloudy-white arousal mixing together and truly coating him.
"Good job, babydoll," he praised gruffly, "Daddy's so proud— that sweet little hole of yours sure left its mark, huh? Not just on me— there's a stain under you on the sofa."
"I-I'm sorry—"
"No, no sweetheart," he cooed, "it's good, you did good! All I ever fuckin' wanted, to make you drip like that. Knew you were a wild one under the innocent girl act."
It hadn't felt like an act at the time, but it was certainly not believable now.
He pulled out suddenly and sat back, stroking himself slowly as you scrambled to sit up. "C'mon and suck me off, princess."
You got on all fours and put your head in his lap, sucking your own taste off his cock and stroking what your lips couldn't reach.
"Mhm," he encouraged lowly, grabbing a fistful of hair by the back of your head. "Fuck, gonna come all over that pretty tongue."
You moaned, carefully adjusting yourself to kneel on the floor again— it was a little less awkward of a position— without stopping your work.
"Mm, and you're gonna swallow it all?" he assumed. You couldn’t quite answer right now, you couldn’t even nod with his grip on the back of your head, so you just blinked up at him slowly and it seemed to get the message across.
His head fell back with a deep gasp, and he guided your head with his strong hold on your hair— using your mouth exactly how he wanted. And you let him, just doing your best to keep some suction on him while your drool ran down your chin.
"I'm close," he gasped, "keep sucking— nice and deep, babydoll, you can choke on it."
But then he made you choke on it, grunting deeply as you gagged, watching your eyes water from the stress on your throat. Maybe that's what tipped him over the edge, because he let out a long, deep moan as the first pulse of his cock shot come onto your tongue. You whimpered and bobbed your head even faster, tightening your grip on his shaft to try to squeeze every drop out.
"Such a good fuckin' girl," he growled. "Swallow all that come, sweetheart— fuck!"
It was bitter, even more than Eddie's, but you gulped it down with a smile, jerking him off to keep getting more and more—
He had to stop you by grabbing your hair and hand at once, laughing thinly and guiding you off of him. "That's all of it, honey, you got it all— fuck…"
He sighed and fell back onto the couch, taking a second or two to catch his breath before he grabbed a cigarette and lighter and lit up.
You watched him take a drag and exhale with a heavy breath. “Damn, girl…" he finally said, opening his eyes and then patting his knee. You smiled as you got up onto his lap, curling up into him as he kept smoking. "You're one hell of a woman, babydoll," he told you softly. "Haven't fucked like that since… shit, I don't think I've ever fucked quite like that. Never had a pussy soak me as good as yours."
You wiggled proudly in his one-arm embrace, but he had to let you go at some point to get his softening cock back into his jeans, refastening his belt with a grunt.
"Come over any time, sweetheart," he offered you with a smirk around his cigarette, "I'll keep that pussy satisfied."
He gave you a congratulatory spank to the thickest part of your butt, and you jumped before a giggle slipped out of your throat. His lip twitched into a split second of a snarl as he did it again, this time leaving his hand on your cheek afterwards and gripping it hard.
"God, this ass," he growled. "Next time, I'm bending you over that counter and watching it the whole time I'm fucking you. And spanking you until you cry."
You were barely reacting to his rough fantasy, you were still hung up on next time.
He stroked your thigh gently, smiling at you as he exhaled smoke through his nose. "Whenever Ed's not here—"
Speak of the freak, and he shall appear.
The front door clicked open and creaked, and your heart dropped into your gut.
“Eddie!” you yelped, reaching for a blanket to try to cover yourself as your boyfriend stared forward at the scene in front of him. “Eddie, oh god, I’m so— I’m so sorry, I—”
“Damn it,” Eddie interrupted with a frown— certainly not looking chipper, but still not giving the reaction you expected. It’s hard to say how one should react when you walk in on your girlfriend and your uncle moments after he was fucking her into the next dimension, but mild frustration probably isn’t it, right?
“Told ya,” Wayne smirked at him proudly. “You owe me twenty.”
“Bull!” Eddie shouted back.
“You lost the bet!” Wayne reminded him.
“Yeah, and you fucked my girlfriend! M’not givin’ you a fuckin’ twenty!” Eddie scowled.
“Fair enough,” Wayne shrugged.
You blinked through teary eyes— it was pretty easy to put together what had happened now, but you still didn’t quite believe it.
“You heard her outside, didn’t you?” Wayne realized. “I warned you, girl like this needs more, Ed. Fuck her right or somebody else will.”
"I don't understand…" you mumbled nervously, and Eddie gave you a sympathetic smile as he tilted his head.
“You were supposed to tell him you only wanted me,” Eddie informed you, “and I could’ve made twenty bucks!”
"I'm so sorry—" you began.
"Oh no! I'm not mad," he promised. "I mean… I'm a little disappointed, but I understand. I knew that I hadn't made you…"
He trailed off, and you cleared your throat, glancing down. "So… you aren't breaking up with me?"
"No, god no!" he scoffed. "Angel, I love you!"
You sniffled, your mind overwhelmed with emotions. "I love you too, Eddie…"
"C'mon, son, have a seat on the couch with your girlfriend," Wayne suggested. "I think it's time I taught you how to properly take care of a young woman."
Summary: Eddie Munson is a freak. You're the most popular girl in Hawkins High. What could go wrong when you start fake dating to piss off your parents?
Warnings: reader uses eddie, fake relationship, brief mentions of parental abuse, reader is a spoiled brat, this is definitely not time period correct because i don't think they had cell phones in the 80s but let's just pretend, no smut YET,
Word Count: 2395. next part will probably be longer.
You storm through the double doors, flinging them open, and not even bothering to flinch when they slam behind you. The dark brown aesthetic of the room clashes with your pink and white outfit, but that's not what's important. What's important is the boy sitting at the head of the table, his eyes wide. You push past the little boys who you recognize as Dustin and Mike, going straight for your prey.
Eddie Munson.
"What is she doing here?"
"I don't know. Why would I know?"
You ignore the mumbles and whispers, standing at the front of the table. "We need to talk." You order. Eddie raises an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder. When he realizes that you are actually talking to him, he looks back at you, his mouth open wide. His eyes rake over your outfit, your white skirt matching perfectly with your pink sweater.
It's obvious to Eddie that you've made some kind of mistake. Because nobody dressed like that would come into a place like this.
"Uh, can I help you?" Eddie asks, earning laughter from his childish friends. You ignore them once again, placing your hands on your hips. Despite going to school with Eddie for most of your life, this is the first time you've actually spoken with him. You've watched him in the background of high school, lurking in the corners, sneaking out into the woods after class, doing god knows what.
"I said, we need to talk," You repeat, your tone showing him that you've made no mistake. Whatever you want to talk to him about, he knows it can't be good. He looks around the table, smirking cockily at his younger friends. "Alright, boys. Seems like I'm needed. Continue without me." He orders, standing up from his place at the table.
You walk back toward the double doors, smiling to yourself when you hear his footsteps behind you. Proud of yourself, almost, for ordering around the most dangerous boy in Hawkins High. You've heard stories about Eddie Munson, about his cult. From where you're standing, you're feeling a lot more scary than Eddie Munson.
When you've passed the doors, you turn to face Eddie, who is still as confused as ever. "Look, I don't know what I did, but I'm sure there's some kind of mistake." Eddie starts, chuckling quietly. He's never spoken to you a day in his life, how could he have earned this type of reaction from you?
"You haven't done anything," You say, watching the confusion grow on Eddie's face. "Yet."
Eddie raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks you up and down again, chewing the inside of his cheek. The motion makes your skin crawl, but you push it to the back of your head, determined to follow through with your plans. "I need a favor from you."
"And why would I do anything for you?" Eddie sneers. This proves everything he's ever thought of you. He's watched you laugh at him for years with your friends, stepping out of his way when he walks down the hallway. Why would he ever do anything for you?
"Because, I know you sell weed behind the school." You blurt out, causing Eddie to stiffen. It's not like he attempts to keep his business a secret, but you've weaponized the information. However, Eddie Munson will not be pushed around by a preppy schoolgirl.
"And?"
"And, I plan to tell the principal if you don't help me out," You say, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie's eyes bounce between the two of you, your bodies mirroring each other. Eddie drops his arms to his side, licking his bottom lip. "Okay? He'll give me Saturday detention. It's nothing I haven't experienced before." Eddie says, laughing at your measly attempt to blackmail him.
You shake your head smugly, gloating in your abilities. "Nope. I've heard from an inside source that if you're caught doing anything you're not supposed to be doing, he'll hold you back another year."
Eddie's cocky smile fades, his heart sinking in his chest. He has to graduate this year. Uncle Wayne has worked so hard to get a tutor for Eddie, working overtime just to pay for it. He can't disappoint Wayne again. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, shifting his weight on his feet. "What do you want?" He asks, unamused that y/n y/l/n has successfully blackmailed him.
Despite never talking to you, Eddie knows everything about you. Your parents are the richest and most influential people in Hawkins. Your brother is the biggest lawyer and your sister is one of the most successful doctors. You have big shoes to fill.
Which is why your parents are extra strict on you. You're the last child they have. You have to turn out perfect, just like them. Just like your siblings. The pressure is enormous. It's too much, really.
"I want you to be my boyfriend," You blurt out, watching as Eddie's eyes widen. You quickly scramble to save grace, your cheeks heating up. "Fake boyfriend, that is."
Eddie stares at you, silently. You sigh, rolling your eyes. You didn't want to elaborate, but it's clear that Eddie requires more details. "My parents have been ridiculous lately. They're disappointed that I don't want to go to Harvard, like my brother and sister. I just want to show them that it could always be worse," You answer, wincing as you say the harsh words.
Eddie nods, his mouth forming a silent 'Ohh'. You swallow the lump in your throat as you remember what happened earlier last week. You had told your dad that you weren't going to Harvard, but that you wanted to go to Brown, instead. You left the house that day sporting a brand new bruise, which you chalked up to bumping into a wall.
Everyone believed you. After all, you just so happen to be one of the clumsiest cheerleaders on the team.
"And how long are you planning on doing this?" Eddie asks, disappointed in himself for giving in so easily. There's a reason boys like Eddie and girls like you don't mix. One of you always ends up hurt in the end.
"Just until my parents decide to give me my way. If I know my parents, you'll be a free man in 2 weeks. Tops." You answer, sticking your hand out. Eddie eyes your soft, small hand. He looks back up at you, a smile growing across his lips.
"Not so fast, princess. What are the conditions of this agreement?" He asks, watching you roll your eyes at the pet name.
"Well, it needs to look real. And we need to be public about it. My parents hate being embarrassed." You say, your head turning as Dustin bursts through the double doors. "Dude! We're dying out there!" He shouts, completely ignoring your presence.
Eddie frowns, shaking his head. "Meet me at my place tonight at 9." He instructs, intentionally being vague. If you have to convince your parents this is real, nobody can know it's fake. Not even Dustin.
☼
Eddie quickly throws his dirty clothes in his small closet, while spraying an entire can of Febreeze to cover up the weed smell. He's never had company, so he's never had to worry about what his room looks/smells like. "Coming!" Eddie shouts, throwing the can under his bed. He jogs to the front door of the trailer, planting a smile on his face when he sees you.
You've changed since earlier today, now dressed in a brown plaid skirt and a white blouse. If Eddie didn't know better, he'd think you dressed up for him. Eddie steps back, extending his arm to show you through the door. "Thanks," You mutter, your eyes searching the room in front of you. There are ash trays all over the living room, the smell of cigarettes infiltrating your nose.
"Here, we can hang out in my room. It smells a little better," Eddie says, angry at his face for turning red. You follow Eddie to the back bedroom, surprise showing on your face when you smell the sweet scent of laundry detergent. Eddie plops down on his bed, leaving enough room for you to sit beside him.
You carefully sit down, not wanting to disturb anything. You allow yourself to look around the room more, smiling at the guitars hung up and the posters nailed to the wall. "Do you want anything to drink? I mean, we probably don't have anything besides beer, but I can get you some tap water." Eddie offers, his voice quieter than he's ever heard it.
There's something so vulnerable about letting a person see your room. He's not sure he likes it.
You ignore his question, turning your head back to face him. "You need to actually take me out on dates. We can use my daddy's card, so don't worry about the money." You say, watching as he frowns.
"I have money, y/n." He defends.
"Yeah. Drug money." You say, scowling.
"Oh. I guess you're too good to go out using drug money." Eddie snaps, anger flashing in his eyes. This is why it's never a good idea for your kind to mix. You're a snobby brat, this is never going to work out. Not even for pretend.
You roll your eyes. "That's not what I'm saying. I just know you use that money to buy your supply. Wouldn't want to interrupt your business." You say, softening your tone. You know you have the tendency to be a brat, but you really don't try to be. It's just what you're used to.
Eddie sits awkwardly, feeling guilty for assuming that you were being malevolent. He doesn't like it when people judge him, so why does he do the same thing?
You, however, don't miss a beat. "And I'll be joining you at lunch, so you need to figure out what to tell your friends. Everyone needs to believe this." You say, your fingers fiddling with the fabric on your skirt. You hadn't realized just how short your skirt was until you sat on Eddie's bed. You've never been alone with a boy in his room before, but you're trying not to seem nervous.
After all, it's Eddie.
Your mind wanders back to his guitars. "Do you play?"
Eddie raises an eyebrow, obviously confused by the change of conversation. He had expected you to talk about the rules, not anything else. He assumed you would want to get in and out as quickly as possible. Limit contact with the freak.
"Uh, yeah. I do."
"What can you play?"
"Anything you want to hear," Eddie says, standing up. He walks over to his wall and pulls down his favorite guitar, walking back over to the bed and sitting next to you again. "Wanna hear your favorite song," You mutter, keeping your eyes on the guitar.
Eddie smiles, looking down at his guitar and playing the opening to 'Sweet Child of Mine'. You smile as you watch him, drinking in the sound of the music your father calls 'devil music'. The sound almost lulls you to sleep, until you hear Eddie's voice barely above the sound of the guitar.
"She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain," He sings, barely audible over the guitar. He continues playing, glancing up at you every now and then, to make sure you're enjoying it.
You watch as his fingers pick the strings, fascinated by his talent. Growing up, your parents had taken you to piano lessons, but you had forgotten how to play by now. "You're really talented," You say, smiling over at Eddie. He blushes, placing the guitar on his lap.
"Eh, it's nothing." He mutters.
Silence falls over the room, but it's a comfortable silence. You glance over at the alarm clock next to Eddie's bed, frowning when you realize that it's almost curfew. "I should go. I'm going to be late," You say, starting to stand up. Eddie reaches out his hand, keeping you in your place.
"How bad do you want to piss them off?" Eddie asks, licking his bottom lip. You furrow your eyebrows, not quite understanding. Eddie scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your jawline. The guitar on his lap is preventing him from getting any closer, but right now, you're thankful.
His breath washes over your neck, his hand keeping you in your place. "What are you doing?" You ask, barely audible. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips on your neck, tracing patterns with his tongue.
"Oh," You whisper, your hand fisting the bedsheets. You stay still as Eddie sucks on your neck, gently biting the untouched flesh. You hiss, but he doesn't pull away until he's softly kissed the fresh mark. When he finally pulls away, he meets your eyes, your cheeks red.
"There. I'm sure they'll have questions about that." He says, smirking.
You don't respond, too focused on keeping your cool. Eddie stands up, placing his guitar on the bed. He walks you to the door, standing in the door frame until you make it out to your car.
☼
You walk through the door of your home, your hair pulled to one side to ensure your parents see the fresh hickey. You weren't expecting it, but you have to give props to Eddie. He is committed to making this look real. You'd never been given a hickey before. You've never even kissed anyone before.
But how was Eddie supposed to know that? You've made up tons of stories for your friends. Like when they asked you about how you lost your virginity. You made up some story about meeting a guy on vacation.
It's nobody's business but your own.
"I'm home!" You shout, looking around the room for your parents. It's almost 10:00 pm. They should be home. Their cars were outside, but that doesn't mean anything. Their friends always pick them up when they go out together.
Disappointment sinks in your chest. Looks like Eddie gave you that hickey for nothing. You walk up to your room, plopping down on the bed. You stare at the ceiling, reaching up and touching the hickey on your neck.
You smile to yourself, finding yourself excited to fake date Eddie Munson.
Stop reblogging your own writing it is very cringe
oof.
if it helps it get read by new people then i will keep sharing it, i know it's only a silly little fanfic but i work rlyyyy hard on it, it's therapeutic for me to write, and i like knowing when other people have read it!
.....sooooo anyway, for anyone who wants to, head to my pinned post for the masterlist of The Peach You Had To Pick xoxoxo
WE HAVE TO REBLOG OUR OWN WORK CAUSE NOT ALL READERS ARE DOING SO
uh, rude anon, if you hadn’t noticed content creators are barely getting reblogs these days. so maybe if you reblog some fics, you wouldn’t see so many writers resorting to sharing their own work constantly.
@thepeachyouhadtopick there is nothing “little” or “silly” about your fanfics. You spent time and energy into creating your own world. That’s nothing to brush off. 💙
Summary: Eddie Munson is a freak. You're the most popular girl in Hawkins High. What could go wrong when you start fake dating to piss off your parents?
Warnings: reader uses eddie, fake relationship, brief mentions of parental abuse, reader is a spoiled brat, this is definitely not time period correct because i don't think they had cell phones in the 80s but let's just pretend, no smut YET,
Word Count: 2395. next part will probably be longer.
You storm through the double doors, flinging them open, and not even bothering to flinch when they slam behind you. The dark brown aesthetic of the room clashes with your pink and white outfit, but that's not what's important. What's important is the boy sitting at the head of the table, his eyes wide. You push past the little boys who you recognize as Dustin and Mike, going straight for your prey.
Eddie Munson.
"What is she doing here?"
"I don't know. Why would I know?"
You ignore the mumbles and whispers, standing at the front of the table. "We need to talk." You order. Eddie raises an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder. When he realizes that you are actually talking to him, he looks back at you, his mouth open wide. His eyes rake over your outfit, your white skirt matching perfectly with your pink sweater.
It's obvious to Eddie that you've made some kind of mistake. Because nobody dressed like that would come into a place like this.
"Uh, can I help you?" Eddie asks, earning laughter from his childish friends. You ignore them once again, placing your hands on your hips. Despite going to school with Eddie for most of your life, this is the first time you've actually spoken with him. You've watched him in the background of high school, lurking in the corners, sneaking out into the woods after class, doing god knows what.
"I said, we need to talk," You repeat, your tone showing him that you've made no mistake. Whatever you want to talk to him about, he knows it can't be good. He looks around the table, smirking cockily at his younger friends. "Alright, boys. Seems like I'm needed. Continue without me." He orders, standing up from his place at the table.
You walk back toward the double doors, smiling to yourself when you hear his footsteps behind you. Proud of yourself, almost, for ordering around the most dangerous boy in Hawkins High. You've heard stories about Eddie Munson, about his cult. From where you're standing, you're feeling a lot more scary than Eddie Munson.
When you've passed the doors, you turn to face Eddie, who is still as confused as ever. "Look, I don't know what I did, but I'm sure there's some kind of mistake." Eddie starts, chuckling quietly. He's never spoken to you a day in his life, how could he have earned this type of reaction from you?
"You haven't done anything," You say, watching the confusion grow on Eddie's face. "Yet."
Eddie raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks you up and down again, chewing the inside of his cheek. The motion makes your skin crawl, but you push it to the back of your head, determined to follow through with your plans. "I need a favor from you."
"And why would I do anything for you?" Eddie sneers. This proves everything he's ever thought of you. He's watched you laugh at him for years with your friends, stepping out of his way when he walks down the hallway. Why would he ever do anything for you?
"Because, I know you sell weed behind the school." You blurt out, causing Eddie to stiffen. It's not like he attempts to keep his business a secret, but you've weaponized the information. However, Eddie Munson will not be pushed around by a preppy schoolgirl.
"And?"
"And, I plan to tell the principal if you don't help me out," You say, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie's eyes bounce between the two of you, your bodies mirroring each other. Eddie drops his arms to his side, licking his bottom lip. "Okay? He'll give me Saturday detention. It's nothing I haven't experienced before." Eddie says, laughing at your measly attempt to blackmail him.
You shake your head smugly, gloating in your abilities. "Nope. I've heard from an inside source that if you're caught doing anything you're not supposed to be doing, he'll hold you back another year."
Eddie's cocky smile fades, his heart sinking in his chest. He has to graduate this year. Uncle Wayne has worked so hard to get a tutor for Eddie, working overtime just to pay for it. He can't disappoint Wayne again. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, shifting his weight on his feet. "What do you want?" He asks, unamused that y/n y/l/n has successfully blackmailed him.
Despite never talking to you, Eddie knows everything about you. Your parents are the richest and most influential people in Hawkins. Your brother is the biggest lawyer and your sister is one of the most successful doctors. You have big shoes to fill.
Which is why your parents are extra strict on you. You're the last child they have. You have to turn out perfect, just like them. Just like your siblings. The pressure is enormous. It's too much, really.
"I want you to be my boyfriend," You blurt out, watching as Eddie's eyes widen. You quickly scramble to save grace, your cheeks heating up. "Fake boyfriend, that is."
Eddie stares at you, silently. You sigh, rolling your eyes. You didn't want to elaborate, but it's clear that Eddie requires more details. "My parents have been ridiculous lately. They're disappointed that I don't want to go to Harvard, like my brother and sister. I just want to show them that it could always be worse," You answer, wincing as you say the harsh words.
Eddie nods, his mouth forming a silent 'Ohh'. You swallow the lump in your throat as you remember what happened earlier last week. You had told your dad that you weren't going to Harvard, but that you wanted to go to Brown, instead. You left the house that day sporting a brand new bruise, which you chalked up to bumping into a wall.
Everyone believed you. After all, you just so happen to be one of the clumsiest cheerleaders on the team.
"And how long are you planning on doing this?" Eddie asks, disappointed in himself for giving in so easily. There's a reason boys like Eddie and girls like you don't mix. One of you always ends up hurt in the end.
"Just until my parents decide to give me my way. If I know my parents, you'll be a free man in 2 weeks. Tops." You answer, sticking your hand out. Eddie eyes your soft, small hand. He looks back up at you, a smile growing across his lips.
"Not so fast, princess. What are the conditions of this agreement?" He asks, watching you roll your eyes at the pet name.
"Well, it needs to look real. And we need to be public about it. My parents hate being embarrassed." You say, your head turning as Dustin bursts through the double doors. "Dude! We're dying out there!" He shouts, completely ignoring your presence.
Eddie frowns, shaking his head. "Meet me at my place tonight at 9." He instructs, intentionally being vague. If you have to convince your parents this is real, nobody can know it's fake. Not even Dustin.
☼
Eddie quickly throws his dirty clothes in his small closet, while spraying an entire can of Febreeze to cover up the weed smell. He's never had company, so he's never had to worry about what his room looks/smells like. "Coming!" Eddie shouts, throwing the can under his bed. He jogs to the front door of the trailer, planting a smile on his face when he sees you.
You've changed since earlier today, now dressed in a brown plaid skirt and a white blouse. If Eddie didn't know better, he'd think you dressed up for him. Eddie steps back, extending his arm to show you through the door. "Thanks," You mutter, your eyes searching the room in front of you. There are ash trays all over the living room, the smell of cigarettes infiltrating your nose.
"Here, we can hang out in my room. It smells a little better," Eddie says, angry at his face for turning red. You follow Eddie to the back bedroom, surprise showing on your face when you smell the sweet scent of laundry detergent. Eddie plops down on his bed, leaving enough room for you to sit beside him.
You carefully sit down, not wanting to disturb anything. You allow yourself to look around the room more, smiling at the guitars hung up and the posters nailed to the wall. "Do you want anything to drink? I mean, we probably don't have anything besides beer, but I can get you some tap water." Eddie offers, his voice quieter than he's ever heard it.
There's something so vulnerable about letting a person see your room. He's not sure he likes it.
You ignore his question, turning your head back to face him. "You need to actually take me out on dates. We can use my daddy's card, so don't worry about the money." You say, watching as he frowns.
"I have money, y/n." He defends.
"Yeah. Drug money." You say, scowling.
"Oh. I guess you're too good to go out using drug money." Eddie snaps, anger flashing in his eyes. This is why it's never a good idea for your kind to mix. You're a snobby brat, this is never going to work out. Not even for pretend.
You roll your eyes. "That's not what I'm saying. I just know you use that money to buy your supply. Wouldn't want to interrupt your business." You say, softening your tone. You know you have the tendency to be a brat, but you really don't try to be. It's just what you're used to.
Eddie sits awkwardly, feeling guilty for assuming that you were being malevolent. He doesn't like it when people judge him, so why does he do the same thing?
You, however, don't miss a beat. "And I'll be joining you at lunch, so you need to figure out what to tell your friends. Everyone needs to believe this." You say, your fingers fiddling with the fabric on your skirt. You hadn't realized just how short your skirt was until you sat on Eddie's bed. You've never been alone with a boy in his room before, but you're trying not to seem nervous.
After all, it's Eddie.
Your mind wanders back to his guitars. "Do you play?"
Eddie raises an eyebrow, obviously confused by the change of conversation. He had expected you to talk about the rules, not anything else. He assumed you would want to get in and out as quickly as possible. Limit contact with the freak.
"Uh, yeah. I do."
"What can you play?"
"Anything you want to hear," Eddie says, standing up. He walks over to his wall and pulls down his favorite guitar, walking back over to the bed and sitting next to you again. "Wanna hear your favorite song," You mutter, keeping your eyes on the guitar.
Eddie smiles, looking down at his guitar and playing the opening to 'Sweet Child of Mine'. You smile as you watch him, drinking in the sound of the music your father calls 'devil music'. The sound almost lulls you to sleep, until you hear Eddie's voice barely above the sound of the guitar.
"She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain," He sings, barely audible over the guitar. He continues playing, glancing up at you every now and then, to make sure you're enjoying it.
You watch as his fingers pick the strings, fascinated by his talent. Growing up, your parents had taken you to piano lessons, but you had forgotten how to play by now. "You're really talented," You say, smiling over at Eddie. He blushes, placing the guitar on his lap.
"Eh, it's nothing." He mutters.
Silence falls over the room, but it's a comfortable silence. You glance over at the alarm clock next to Eddie's bed, frowning when you realize that it's almost curfew. "I should go. I'm going to be late," You say, starting to stand up. Eddie reaches out his hand, keeping you in your place.
"How bad do you want to piss them off?" Eddie asks, licking his bottom lip. You furrow your eyebrows, not quite understanding. Eddie scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your jawline. The guitar on his lap is preventing him from getting any closer, but right now, you're thankful.
His breath washes over your neck, his hand keeping you in your place. "What are you doing?" You ask, barely audible. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips on your neck, tracing patterns with his tongue.
"Oh," You whisper, your hand fisting the bedsheets. You stay still as Eddie sucks on your neck, gently biting the untouched flesh. You hiss, but he doesn't pull away until he's softly kissed the fresh mark. When he finally pulls away, he meets your eyes, your cheeks red.
"There. I'm sure they'll have questions about that." He says, smirking.
You don't respond, too focused on keeping your cool. Eddie stands up, placing his guitar on the bed. He walks you to the door, standing in the door frame until you make it out to your car.
☼
You walk through the door of your home, your hair pulled to one side to ensure your parents see the fresh hickey. You weren't expecting it, but you have to give props to Eddie. He is committed to making this look real. You'd never been given a hickey before. You've never even kissed anyone before.
But how was Eddie supposed to know that? You've made up tons of stories for your friends. Like when they asked you about how you lost your virginity. You made up some story about meeting a guy on vacation.
It's nobody's business but your own.
"I'm home!" You shout, looking around the room for your parents. It's almost 10:00 pm. They should be home. Their cars were outside, but that doesn't mean anything. Their friends always pick them up when they go out together.
Disappointment sinks in your chest. Looks like Eddie gave you that hickey for nothing. You walk up to your room, plopping down on the bed. You stare at the ceiling, reaching up and touching the hickey on your neck.
You smile to yourself, finding yourself excited to fake date Eddie Munson.
The post about plagiarism from @evansbby includes your fic, the one with Andy who’s still married to Laurie
Thank you so much for letting me know. I had no idea. I’ve reached out to the user. The username on Wattpad is milkybqbes_06. I had another user, SteveHarrington447, steal my work and post it on Wattpad. They blocked me, so I’m not sure if they still have my work up or not.
Please keep an eye out for me. It means more than you’ll ever know <3
Hi! I recognized some other fics, I tried telling some writers, but I’m not sure if they check Anon messages. It includes the-iceni-bitch , agentofkrypton , and twoghostsfromeden
I read a lot of fics and recognized them right away. So sorry everyone, I don’t recognize others but they are 100% plagiarized since each one has different styles
It's obvious to Eddie that you've made some kind of mistake. Because nobody dressed like that would come into a place like this.
However, Eddie Munson will not be pushed around by a preppy schoolgirl.
"I want you to be my boyfriend,"
There's a reason boys like Eddie and girls like you don't mix. One of you always ends up hurt in the end.
"Not so fast, princess..."
If Eddie didn't know better, he'd think you dressed up for him.
There's something so vulnerable about letting a person see your room.
You've never been alone with a boy in his room before, but you're trying not to seem nervous.
"Wanna hear your favorite song,"
"How bad do you want to piss them off?"
You stay still as Eddie sucks on your neck, gently biting the untouched flesh.
You smile to yourself, finding yourself excited to fake date Eddie Munson.
I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES! I'm not sure what the posting schedule will be, but if you're excited to read this, PLEASE make sure to reblog/like/comment on this! The first part will be up tonight at 12:15 EST!
Part 3 to Fucked Me So Good That I Almost Said I Love You
Summary: Chris visits you at school, having every intention of apologizing for how he's treated you. But you make it very clear that you don't want his apology.
Warning: smut, angst, p in v, cheating (not on chris), chris attempts to be sweet, chris is heartbroken im sorry, brief fingering, unprotected sex, this is so sad im sorry
Word Count: 3081 words
Chris stares at his phone, the hatred bubbling in his chest. Not for you, but for the man- no, boy- clinging onto you in the newest picture on your Instagram. His lanky arms are wrapped around your waist, dangerously close to your ass.
The ass that belongs to him.
He remembers the last time you let him fuck you, a week before you went back to school. He remembers how your ass felt in his hands, how you pushed your ass back as he fucked you from behind, desperate to feel him inside of you.
That had been almost four months ago. He hasn't heard from you or seen you since then. But of course, he hasn't heard from you. It's not like he expected you to call him or text him. He's the one that told you your relationship was purely sex.
But he hadn't realized how much he'd miss you. He'd been hearing about your life through your parents, but you know you don't tell them everything. He certainly knows you didn't tell him about your new boy toy. He would've remembered that.
"Chris? Are you listening?" Melanie asks, stopping at the doorway. Chris looks up, locking his phone back. Melanie is standing in front of him, a suitcase on each side of her.
"What?"
Melanie sighs, rolling her eyes. "You never listen to me," She mutters, before grabbing ahold of her suitcases. "I was just reminding you that I'll be home on Sunday."
Chris stares at her for a while longer, before remembering that she told him about her work trip. He had been completely tuning her out lately. Honestly, he's been tuning everything out but you. "Right," Chris says, standing up from the couch. He walks over to his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He smells her perfume, the kind she only wears when he takes her on a date.
Which, by the way, had been months ago.
Chris walks his wife to her car, waving her off. He walks back to the house, pulling his phone back out. He immediately goes to your contact, his thumb hovering over the button. He shouldn't call you, right?
That was the agreement. He fucked you, you expected nothing from him. And that's what you had done. Over the summer, both of you had found ways to sneak around. You never expected him to clean you up, you never expected him to stay afterward.
"Fuck," Chris mutters, his thumb pressing the button. He leans his back against the wall, listening as your phone rings for what seems like forever. He's about to hang up when you finally answer, music blaring in the background. "Hello?" You ask, earning a sigh of relief from Chris.
He's not sure why he expected you to sound different, but you sound the same as you always have. "Uh, hey. It's me, Chris," He explains, his voice sounding unsure. You plug your finger into your other ear, trying to block out the music from the club. You had to double-check your caller ID when you saw that Chris was calling you. You thought about ignoring it, until you started worrying that something was wrong with your parents.
"Is everything okay? Why are you calling me?" He hears you ask, causing him to frown. He's not even sure why he called you. He just needed to hear your voice, to know you were okay. He knows how college boys are- he was once one.
"Yeah, I was just checking up on you. Wasn't sure if-"
Chris frowns as he hears you giggle. "Stop, I'm on the phone," You whisper, a giggle laced between your words. The music mixed with the whispers and the giggles sends him over the edge. He has to do something, he has to see you. He won't allow an inexperienced college boy have you. No, you deserve better than that.
Your chest is heaving with anger, your cheeks heating up as you stare at Chris standing in the doorway of your apartment. It's been 4 months since you last saw him, but less than 24 hours since he called you. You had been in a club with your friends when he had called, explaining that he just wanted to check on you. You tried to ignore it, but it was hard. He never called to check on you.
Not when it actually mattered.
Chris takes a step forward, trying his best to keep his cool. He's been miserable, but he won't let you know that. You're dressed in your lounge clothes, your sweater falling down to the top of your thighs, hiding whatever you have underneath. Chris clears his throat, forcing a smile. "It's been a while, so I thought I'd stop by," He answers, hiding his true intentions. Part of him wants to tell you that he's been miserable without you, that you gave him a taste of his own medicine and he hated it.
Bile crawls up his throat at the thought of the first time he fucked you. He had left you alone, humiliated. If you did that to him now, he wouldn't be able to handle it.
You raise an eyebrow, scoffing. You had been able to keep up your facade, pretending you didn't care that he didn't want you. It was getting easier without him around, but now that he was in front of you, you weren't sure if you could keep it up. "Alright. Fine." You say, leading him into your room. You can't miss the way his eyes land on several pairs of boxers and t-shirts that he knows aren't yours.
You stand in front of your bed, reaching for the hem of your sweater, lifting it above your head. You stand naked, except for your lace panties. You try to ignore that this is the first time Chris has seen you naked. Every time he's ever fucked you, he's kept your clothes on, just in case he needed to get rid of you quickly. Chris's eyes drop down to your tits, but quickly comes back up to meet your eyes. "Uh, I was actually going to take you out for dinner first," He mutters, attempting to conceal his boner.
Your facade cracks, but not enough to let him see. You won't let him do this. You wanted him for months. How dare he act like he wants you now? You lower your thumbs to your panties, hooking your thumbs in the waistband. You slide them down your legs, your eyes focused on him. You don't answer him, but he doesn't need you to.
You're done playing his games. This is finally purely sexual for you.
Chris steps toward you, his hands searching for your waist, his lips landing on yours. He pulls you closer, immediately slipping his tongue between your lips, melting at the feeling of being close to you again. You waste no time ridding him of his clothes, throwing them in a pile on the floor. You don't allow yourself to stare at him, knowing it would only make this harder for you. Chris slides his hands to your thighs, pulling you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. You try to ignore the way your heart breaks as he lays you on the bed, as the realization hits you: this is the first time he's actually fucked you on a bed.
Chris pulls away from the kiss as his hand slides between your thighs, groaning as your slick coats his fingers. "Missed this pussy so much," He mutters, peppering kisses down your neck. You whimper, rutting your hips against his hand, silently begging him to just get on with it.
It's not like Chris to want to go slow, to want to get you prepared for him. He buries his face in your neck, slipping the tip of his finger inside of you, moaning when you clench around him. Your jaw falls open as your back arches off the bed, already desperate for him. He works a second finger in, stretching you out. "You feel so fucking good," He mumbles, gasping when you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist.
"Chris, just fuck me already," You order, annoyed with his change of heart. The only reason he's taking your clothes off, getting you ready for him... It's all because he missed having a convenient fuck. You're sure he thinks if he does this, you'll come crawling back, willing to let him fuck you anytime he wants.
Chris gently pulls his fingers out of you, causing you to whimper at the emptiness. "Need a condom," He says, searching your face. You shake your head, choosing your next words very carefully. "College boys don't use condoms. On the pill,"
Chris could puke. Is this how you felt when he talked about his wife? Is this how you felt when he mentioned how much he loved fucking young girls?
His medicine tastes horrible right about now.
Chris pushes those thoughts to the back of his head, positioning his cock at your entrance. He pushes in, slower than he normally does. He moans as he feels your walls closing in on him, accepting him so easily. He places a hand on your hip, using his other arm to hold himself up, trapping you in his grasp. "Missed this," He groans, lowering his lips onto yours for a second time today.
He kisses you slowly, as he thrusts into you slowly. The new sensation has your stomach tightening, your legs pulling him in closer. You're used to angry, quick fucks. Chris has never taken his time with you.
You can't let him do this. It took you a long time to get to this point, where you didn't care if he just used you for sex. You won't let him drag you back. You pull away from his kiss, turning your head to the side. Chris sighs, resting his forehead on your temple, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Want you on top of me, baby. Wanna watch you work for it,".
You whimper as Chris rolls you over, pulling you on top of him. You quickly slide him back in, moaning as he fucks you in the new angle. Chris's hands find your tits, squeezing and practically drooling at the way they bounce every time you move. "Fucking perfect, you know that?" Chris whispers, his eyes searching yours.
Your eyes lock with his momentarily, but you quickly squeeze yours shut. The tip of Chris's cock is nudging your special spot, making it harder to focus on not falling back in love with him. Your jaw falls slack as. he starts actually fucking you, giving you what you've wanted all along. "Chris, I'm- Fuck. I'm close,"
Chris reaches out, placing his thumb on your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, sending you over the edge. He fucks you through your orgasm, swearing under his breath as he starts to spill into you, his cum leaking back out of you, dripping onto his stomach.
You roll off of Chris, crawling off of the bed. You wince as his cum slips down your thighs. "Where are you going? Lay back down," Chris says, opening his arms for you. Your heart breaks at the sight, but you push the lump in your throat down. You glance over at the alarm clock on your nightstand, seeing that it's already 6:50 pm.
"I can't," You say, not offering to elaborate. You walk to the bathroom, quickly cleaning yourself up the best you can. When you walk into the bedroom, you see Chris sitting up on your bed, your sheets covering the lower part of his body. He's staring at you, helplessly. You can't bring yourself to look at him any longer. You bend down, picking up the pile of clothes. You toss his clothes to him, watching as they plop down beside him. "You should leave. I know you've got a long drive ahead of you," You mutter, tossing your clothes into your hamper. You dig through your drawer until you find your best pair of underwear.
You slip them on, walking back over to your closet. "I was actually going to stay the weekend, if that's okay. I thought we could go out," Chris says, his voice trailing off as he watches you put his favorite dress on. His eyes follow you as you walk over to your vanity, spritzing perfume on your neck, your wrist- he almost loses it now- and the inside of your ankle.
You laugh awkwardly, trying to cover the sound of footsteps in your apartment. You hurry over to your bedroom door, closing it, pushing your back against the door. "I already have plans, Chris."
Chris furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head. "Y/n, I don't understand. I'm trying to give you what you want, I-"
"Wanted,"
"Y/n, are you almost ready?" Alex calls out, causing you to swear under your breath. You can't bring yourself to look at Chris.
"Can you just put your clothes on? We'll talk about this later," You mutter, silently thanking god when you hear the rustles of the bedsheets. You watch as Chris gets dressed, his face hard to read.
You almost wish he'd be angry, jealous. You wish he'd cuss you out, telling you that he knew you were no good. Because you can't handle whatever this is.
Once he's dressed, you open your bedroom door to reveal Alex, the boy you've been seeing for a couple of months. Alex smiles when he sees you, grabbing your chin between his thumb and finger, giving you a sweet peck to your lips. Normally, this action would have you melting, but now, your heart is breaking.
Alex's smile fades when he sees Chris in the corner of your room, watching you. "Who is this?" Alex asks, pulling you closer to him. You swallow again, nervously smiling. "Uh, that's Chris. He's a good friend of my dad," You explain, watching as Alex sticks his hand out.
"I'm Alex, y/n's boyfriend,"
Chris stares, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you. Alex clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes that Chris is not going to shake his hand. Alex drops his eyes back to you, sticking his hands in his pocket. "I meant to be home earlier, but Jason kept insisting that we play another round," He explains, practically stabbing Chris in the heart.
Home.
You give him a fake smile, nodding to the hallway. "I'm gonna walk Chris out. I'll meet you at the car, okay?" You suggest. Alex agrees and walks out of the apartment, giving Chris a polite nod, despite the way Chris is staring daggers at him.
Chris walks toward you, anger finally flashing in his eyes. He charges toward you, your back against the wall. Before he can get any closer, you put your hand out. "Stop!" You scold, dropping your hand back to your side. Chris stops, clenching his jaw.
"I knew you were seeing someone, y/n, but he's living with you? How long have you been together? Do you love him? Is that why you just fucked me in his bed?" Chris asks, anger rising in his chest.
You refuse to cry. You bite your bottom lip, trying your best not to crack. "You can't do this." You say, shaking your head.
"I can do whatever I want, y/n. You're mine. You- You,"
"No! You told me if I was looking for somebody to love me, I should be with somebody my own age. Do you remember saying that? Because I remember it!" You shout, tears spilling down your cheeks. Chris stares at you, blinking.
"I waited for months, Chris. Months. I did whatever you wanted me to. I was available whenever you wanted me. I kept my mouth shut. I did it for as long as I could. And when I couldn't do it anymore, I let you go. I didn't ask you to give me the love I wanted to give you," You continue, your voice shaking.
Chris's shoulders relax as the realization washes over him.
You loved him.
"Alex is good. He takes me on dates. He shows me off. He loves me. And I just ruined that. Because I'm not like you, Chris. I can't cheat on somebody and hide it from them. I have to go down there and break his heart. For somebody who sees me as nothing more than a booty call."
"Y/n, that's not true," Chris butts in, stepping closer to you. He reaches up and grabs your jaw, cradling your face in his hands. You close your eyes, the tears dripping down to your collarbone. "I've missed you. Not just your body, y/n. I... I fucked up, alright? I know that. But I can be better. I can make it up to you," He explains, begs.
You shake your head, opening your eyes. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to tell the biggest lie you're ever going to tell. "I don't love you anymore," You whisper. Chris's eyes falter, his grip on your face loosens.
It's his turn to shake his head, in disbelief. "No. You do, y/n. You do love me. Y-You just think you don't. If you didn't love me anymore, you would've made me walk away as soon as I got here." He begs, tears filling his eyes for the first time in years. He's never cared for his wife like he cares for you. He's never fought for her the way he's prepared to fight for you right now.
You lock eyes with him, sniffling. You reach up, pulling his hands away from his face. "Chris, I can't do this right now. I can't think about this." You answer, watching as he backs up.
"Y/n, I have to know. I have to know that you feel the same way," He pleads.
You take a deep breath, wiping your cheeks. "I need space, Chris. Just... Go home. Let me think about this. Please?"
Chris nods slowly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "Okay. I'll go home." He whispers, walking to your bedroom door. As he passes you, he places a small kiss to your forehead, making this decision even harder. You watch as he walks out of your apartment, and possibly your life.
Is there going to be a part 3 to I've Been Chasing After Dreamers? I am so in love with that story
I've got several asks about a part 3 to I've Been Chasing After Dreamers, and honestly, I WANT to write it so bad.
i feel like only my smut does well on this blog and it's kinda sad bc i'm a hopeless romantic and want to write fluff too
im working full time and going to school and in the process of buying a house so im struggling to find time to write but i really do want to finish part 3!
chris evans is so fucking rank in snowpiercer. like he hasn’t showered in 17 years and he’s covered in blood and he ate babies but i am like. yeah. yeah dude. after u fuck up that frozen capitalist death train u gotta call me. he looks fucking disgusting but he is so On
#on a dick scale of ONE to WORTH THE UTI #curtis’s filthy monster dong is a solid Pop Ten Cranberry Pills Beforehand And Hope For The Best [killerville]
Goal: $110/ 200
Payp*l: [email protected]
Update: We’re still $90, so close to having secure housing for the month!
Hello loved ones. We need to cover August’s rent, and could really use some help. Due to an injury we got put behind this month, and want to make sure rent is covered completely. We have until the 4th to pay.
Anything will help us right now. Whether it be good thoughts, donations, or reblogs - everything helps! Thank you for being here for us, and continuing to give us all reasons to live!
eddie teaching innocent!reader how he’s gonna fuck her by dry humping…….POPPY U CANT DO THIS TO ME.
he stays fully clothed :(( rocks against you gently, so gently. his weight above you, between the cotton of your pajama bottoms. you feel the hard bulge of his cock through the denim of his jeans, hitting and rubbing just right against you.
hes raining sweet kisses all over your face, chin, nose, cheeks, lips. hands cupping your head, fingers tangled in your hair, to keep you in place. to keep your eyes on him. his necklace is gently swaying between you, laying in your clavicle.
your eyes are wide and innocent, legs spread wide around him, hands gripping his shoulders. it all feels so intense, even just over the clothes like this.
"you feel-" he kisses your throat. "so good. you're warm baby."
your fingers dig into his shirt, you feel your face heat. "w-warm?" you can't keep your eyes from his, the dark honey brown swallowing you whole.
"between your legs." he says softly, grinding down once deliberately. his thumbs are stroking patterns in your scalp. little circles that make your eyes want to roll back. purr even. "warm and soft. so fucking soft-" another kiss, beside your ear. "wet too. can feel- feel you on my jeans. making a little wet spot, honey."
"oh." you sigh, shuddering in his arms. you feel shaky and fragile and so overwhelmed. but in a good way. "is that good? it- it feels good, eddie."
one of his hand moves from your head to cradle you, arm coming around the back of your head to cage you there, while his other hand comes down to grip your waist. your foreheads touch. his bangs brush your skin, hair falling around the both of you.
"its good." he assures, letting out a soft sigh on the next roll of his hips. "means your cunt wants me inside. means shes gonna open for me when the time is right, let me do things to her with my lips." his lips brush against yours - "and tongue." his tongue flicks your bottom lip - "and cock." he rocks forward into you hard, making you gasp.
"eddie." your hands scrabble along his back, over his soft black shirt. "eddie it feels-" your cunt wont stop pulsing down there, throbbing with need with every gentle thrust of his hips.
"s'okay." his breath puffs against you. "you're gonna cum for me, sweetheart. on my dick. just like this- come on, let go for me."
you sob and shake apart in his arms, whining into his shoulder as tears prick your eyes. your pussy floods with something you cant name, but its okay because eddie said it was. hes holding you, stroking your hair as he kisses your neck with hot, open mouthed kisses.
"that's it." hes murmuring. "oh, baby. gonna make you feel so much fucking better than this one day soon. promise."
Summary: You never had problems with your eyesight, until your best friend started working for Dr. Evans. After that, your best friend spent her time convincing you that you needed to have an eye exam. When you finally give in, you find that Dr. Evans gives his first-time patients a special treat.
Word count: ~ 4k (oops)
Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Oral sex. Degradation. Dumbification? Medical kink?
Note: This is my first Chris Evans fic and it is slightly based off of my own experience with a very hot eye doctor
Summary: You never had problems with your eyesight, until your best friend started working for Dr. Evans. After that, your best friend spent her time convincing you that you needed to have an eye exam. When you finally give in, you find that Dr. Evans gives his first-time patients a special treat.
Word count: ~ 4k (oops)
Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Oral sex. Degradation. Dumbification? Medical kink?
Note: This is my first Chris Evans fic and it is slightly based off of my own experience with a very hot eye doctor
hii friend, i read your tom grant fic and i’m obsessed with it!! would you ever write for joseph quinn the actor? if you can could you maybe write something about joe and reader trying for a baby? if not it’s totally fine :) have a great day or night <333
trying ~ joseph quinn x reader
word count: 4.7k
warnings: smut ofc, 18+ only please <3, breeding kink, unprotected sex (duh), breeding press (aka my weakness), EXTREMELY fluffy and mushy, discussions of pregnancy, multiple orgasms, joe steals the reader's birth control for like 4 seconds, reader is into it but acting neutral because she wants him to beg more lmao, joe makes reader come up with baby names during sex... it's freaky guys
As you turned your head to the side to look at him— laughing gently as he raised his glass to his lips, listening to a friend's story about how she got kicked out of a pub over a complicated misunderstanding— you smiled, too, and reached to give his knee a quick squeeze through his jeans. He looked back at you, offering a little smile just for you, and the conversation continued.
Later, when dinner was completed and the conversation had moved from the outdoor patio back to inside the flat, you were helping with dishes when the baby monitor went off. It was just a little at first, just a strange groaning noise coming through it, and then you saw the lights flash brighter and heard a proper cry between bouts of static. Drying your hands quickly, you popped your head out of the kitchen and saw the hostess first, thankfully.
"Jess, the monitor?" you informed her, interrupting a conversation as she turned.
"Oh, thank you," she sighed, excusing herself and slipping down the hall.
Joe, a member of the abandoned discussion, gave you a little cringe: "I hope we didn't wake her," he said.
"Oh, I doubt it," you assured him, "babies just wake up often."
Jess came back a few minutes later, and to everyone's pleasant surprise, she brought baby Cleo with her. Everyone was already in a chorus of "aww"s before she'd even explained why she was bringing her out; "I think she just wants some attention," Jess explained, and dinner guests began to gather around where Jess was standing with Cleo on her hip.
You waited until all the dishes were done to go out there and see the baby yourself, but by the time you came out, you were surprised to see her on Joe's knee— or maybe you were more surprised to see Joe acting a complete fool, making silly faces and noises at her to get her to smile.
"Oh, just in time," someone else noticed your arrival, "your boyfriend's fallen madly in love with this baby."
"That's a shame," you joked as you sat down next to him, "he was supposed to come home with me tonight."
You gave Joseph a kiss on the cheek, noticing Cleo's massive blue eyes on you as you leaned in closer to him. You mouthed hi! and waved at her, as she continued to examine you.
Her eyes followed your hand as you reached forward and hesitantly tickled her belly through the star-dotted onesie she had on, and she finally gave you a smile; you'd earned approval, for now. "Hi Cleo!" you greeted her aloud, tickling her tummy again, and she kicked her legs as Joe held her up on his knee.
"How old did you say she was again?" Joe asked Jess, without looking away from Cleo until he actually heard her answering.
"Seven months," Jess replied.
"Oh," Joe nodded, "is it easier now than when she was born?"
"She sleeps longer," Jess decided, "and I actually have some vague idea of what I'm doing, so that's nice."
Joe smiled and looked back at Cleo, who was looking at you as you talked to her about whatever you could think of. He moved her in closer to his lap, where her attention was suddenly taken by his necklace; he let her grab and tug on it for a while, until she yanked hard enough to be able to reach up and start pulling on his hair next.
"Ow," Joe frowned, and you laughed at his predicament— he was forced to stay hunched over in his own lap as she balled her fists in his curls.
"Oh, sorry, she's really into hair pulling right now," Jess cringed, reaching forward to try to help unlatch those little chubby hands. Eventually she was able to get her free, but of course, like anyone forced to stop touching Joseph's curls, she started to get upset. Just a little pout at first, then a whimper, then a proper cry. "Oh no," Jess mumbled, lifting her out of Joe's lap— though he started to reach for her again, before he stopped himself.
"Did I make her cry?" Joe asked, the genuine heartbreak in his voice making your own chest tighten.
"No, no, she's just fussy," Jess promised, "she's probably wet— I'll go change her."
Joe turned back to you and you reached up to brush your hand over his hair. "Looked like she was really going for it there," you noticed. "She didn't actually manage to rip any out, did she?"
But he didn't answer your question, instead blurting out, "I want one."
You laughed a little. "Well, when someone picks it up and takes it away to change the diaper, I'm sure it seems very appealing," you noticed.
He pouted a little, but the conversation changed before you could really press him on it— and all too soon, the evening came to a close. Jess thanked you for your help with everything, you insisted you wouldn’t let her host a dinner party on her own when she had a baby to take care of; Joe asked if he could say goodbye to her, but Jess explained that she was down for hopefully the entire night but promised they’d have another playdate soon.
You could tell Joe really was enamored by Cleo, due in part to how silent he was on the ride home. Then you got home, and he tolerated you making conversation about the party and the other guests, but there was that distance in his eyes.
“You’re still thinking about Cleo, aren’t you?” you noticed.
“Hm? Oh,” he sighed, sitting down on the couch. “Yeah, I am. She was so little!”
You laughed. “Yeah, I hear most babies are like that.”
“But she was so cute, god, you saw she looks just like Jess already,” he described, laying his head back on the couch, “but, you know, all fat and adorable.”
“Those blue eyes are her dad’s, though,” you recalled.
“Really?” Joe smiled— his cheeks seemed a little flushed, suddenly.
“C’mon, let’s get our teeth brushed and all so we can go to sleep,” you insisted, grabbing Joe’s hand and pulling him up off the couch, “some of us had a little more work to do tonight than just playing around with a baby.”
~
He was doing that thing he did, where he wanted to say something but he hadn't found either the words or the nerve yet. But you could never get him to spit it out until he was ready, so you just sighed and let him stare at you as you got ready for bed.
Eventually he got in bed by himself, where he liked to wait for you until you were done with your routine, but you were having a hard time wrapping up since you couldn't find the final step. I swear I left them right here…
You rifled through the medicine cabinet for a bit, frowning. "Babe, have you seen my pills?"
"Um, yeah," he called back, "they're right here."
You came out to the bedroom to find him sitting up in the bed, holding the pack in his hand. "Give me those," you instructed.
"I will— I just wanna talk first."
"Joseph."
He frowned and tossed you the packet, which landed in your hands with a rattle. Before you'd even started to pop one out, he was jumping up to give you a tight hug. "Please, darling?" he whined, bending down and laying his head on your chest. "Please, please please—"
A second later, he was literally on his knees before you, clutching your legs, his chin resting on your hip as you looked down at him. "You're serious?" you noticed.
"It'll be so great, won't it? Our baby. You and me."
"It'll be great—"
"Yes!"
"— and incredibly difficult! You realize that they just keep growing up, right?"
"That's the best part!" he beamed. "Kids are even better than babies!"
"And teenagers?" you prompted crossing your arms.
"No no, don't do that," he pouted, reaching up to gently pull your arms open again, "you do that when you're about to say no to me."
You sighed and rolled your eyes, letting him hold your hands down by his face as he squeezed them a little.
"Yeah, teenagers can be annoying, sure," he continued, "but they're fun— you can really talk with them then. C'mon, I know you think I'm crazy but I really mean it. I wanna have a family."
"It's all pretty sudden, Joe… you saw one baby today for, like, an hour— and then you stole my pills!"
"Okay, first of all,” he defended, “I just… borrowed them.”
“Right.”
“And second of all, it’s not as sudden as you think. I've wanted this for so long, you have no idea,” he admitted. “I mean, really— since we met, I've been thinking about this."
You raised your eyebrows. "Really? And did you plan to ever make me privy to those thoughts?"
"Well… I am now!" he smiled, batting his eyelashes up at you. You sighed, and he stood up again, still clutching your hands. "It's okay if you don't want this, but seeing Cleo just made me wonder why I've been waiting so long. If I had it my way, you'd already be pregnant."
And it was impossible to keep hiding your smile when he said that. "I've been thinking about it too, Joe."
"Really?" he whispered, and you nodded. He hummed and gave you a kiss on the forehead; you wrapped your arms around his torso, laughing as he pulled you back onto the bed. "What did you think about?" he asked as he started to kiss down to your neck.
"Well— I mean, I just thought about it sometimes," you sighed. "What it would be like if you and I…"
"Yeah?"
"But it was just a fantasy!" you interrupted yourself.
"Let's make fantasy a reality, darling,” he purred, “don't take your pills tonight. Actually, you can just throw them out."
You whined as he rolled you onto your back, pressing his weight into you.
"Please, love? I want a baby so bad…" he whispered.
"I know," you breathed.
"You want it too, right? I know you do."
"And you do understand I'm not going to get pregnant tonight just because I'm not taking the pill?" you pointed out.
"So you're gonna stop taking them?" he grinned.
"I mean… I'm thinking about it," you admitted.
"Yeah, it won't be right away— that's the fun part, right? Trying. We can tell people we’re trying."
"Ew," you frowned, "let's not tell people that. It's just a socially-appropriate way of saying that we're constantly fucking."
"Yeah! That's why it's fun to say," he laughed. "Even if it won't happen tonight… we can still start practicing for when it really happens."
"Are you out of practice, suddenly?" you snorted. "Seems like you've been getting some practice in a couple times a week for the last— how long's it been, two years?"
"No, darling, this is different," he explained. "This isn't just fucking. It's… making love."
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, that's ridiculous."
"It's not! It's supposed to be special, making a baby and all," he whispered. "It won't be like what we usually do— no… hair-pulling, or anything…"
You frowned. "Well what's the fun in that?"
"The fun is that I'm going to get you pregnant," he explained, lowering his voice. "And it's gonna be my baby in you."
You bit your lip. He smiled, tapping you on the end of your nose with his finger.
“Gimme those pills, love, I’ll go chuck them for you now.”
“Joeeyyy,” you whined, the way you only did when he was doing something that made you wet against your better judgment.
He reached for your hand to take them away, but you laughed as you turned on your side and curled up so he couldn’t get to them. “You’re not going to make me take them from you, are you, sweetheart?”
“I mean, how bad do you want me off of them?” you challenged.
“Oh, don’t play with me now,” he warned with a purr, “you know I’m dead serious.”
You shrugged. “Are you though, really?”
He growled and started to
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” you replied.
“Then why don’t we go ahead and make a baby about it?” he encouraged.
You laughed, but nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he beamed.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” you decided.
“Oh my god,” he breathed, kissing you hard as you kept smiling, “oh god, angel— I love you so much.”
He helped strip you of your pajamas— gently, but efficiently— as he kissed all over your heated skin. He continued whispering praises and thank yous and promises to get you pregnant as soon as he could
“I can’t wait, I really can’t wait,” he rushed against your neck, hands tight on your waist, “can you?”
You shook your head.
“I just know you’re gonna look so pretty pregnant,” he breathed, one hand ghosting over your stomach. “My baby, right here, making you all big— you’re gonna be fucking gorgeous.”
That was bad enough, and then his hand started moving lower and lower; of course you spread your legs for him right away, why wouldn’t you? He still mocked you quietly, though, asking if you really needed him that bad. You really did.
He just teased your aching pussy with his fingers for a moment, before he honed in on your clit and gave it a few slow circles. You hummed, letting your head fall to the side. “You feel ready for me,” he announced as pushed two fingers into you, making you whine and arch your back.
“God, Joe, I am,” you agreed, “need you inside me.”
“Soon,” he promised. “Gonna open you up a little more first, love, just be patient.”
He twisted his fingers around, curling them into your spot only for a moment at a time before pulling back and making you sigh in frustration
“Should I make you come on my fingers once, just to get you nice and soaked for me?” he wondered.
“N-no, fuck, wanna come on your cock,” you pleaded.
“Yeah? You want me to feel it when you come for me, right?”
“Yes,” you groaned, “please… please fuck me.”
“Now, what did I tell you?” he grinned. “It’s not fucking, darling.”
Funny how you were more embarrassed to say it the other way: “Please m-make love to me,” you whispered.
“That’s better, love,” he cooed as he kissed your cheek before climbing up on top of you; he was still wearing his thin golden chain, and it swung over your face. “I’ll do more than that— I’ll give you a baby. You want that?”
You smiled. “I think I’m the one giving you a baby.”
“Fair,” he chuckled, “okay— I’ll make love to you, and come inside you, and you’ll give me a baby. How does that sound?”
“Hmm,” you considered, “I mean, it sounds good, but—”
“Oh god—” he dropped his head onto your chest— “love, you’re driving me mad now…”
“I just want to make sure this is what you want,” you teased— and he knew exactly how full of shit you were, but he must have realized that he would have to play along anyway.
“C’mon, darling, I want this more than anything,” he breathed, lifting his head up again to look down at you closely. One of his hands found the top of your head and stroked your hair, keeping you from looking away. “I’ve never wanted anything like I want this— like I want our baby inside you now. Something made from how much we love each other, isn’t it perfect? And everyone will see us together and know that we’re in love, that we’re a family.”
You sighed a little, appreciating what that would be like; taking such a huge step from being partners, being boyfriend and girlfriend, to being parents together. It was obviously daunting, but it made you feel all warm and happy inside.
“When it’s here, I can carry it on my shoulders in the park, or you can push the pram, won’t that be nice?” he imagined with a wistful smile. “And our child will always know how loved it is, how much we wanted them— how desperate Daddy was that he told Mummy he’d do anything if they could have a baby together.”
“Anything?”
“Of course— you’re doing the most incredible thing for me,” he explained, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it, before he pulled it closer and kissed your fingers. “We can get married first, if you’d rather do it all in the normal order. But that doesn’t really matter to me, if I’m honest— we’re a family either way.”
“You’re really into this whole ‘baby makes three’ thing, huh?” you chuckled, but he cut you off with a slow, gentle kiss. It changed the mood entirely, especially once you relented to it and reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he finally agreed when he pulled away, leaving you blinking and trying to catch your breath after a kiss like that. “I’m really into it.”
You only gave him a little breathless nod, but that was enough of an approval for him: he pressed himself into you, watching your face as your body gave way and took him inside. He was as deep as possible in less than a second, keeping a focused expression as you moaned and wrapped your legs around his hips.
“Darling,” he breathed, “you feel so perfect— doesn’t it feel different, knowing it’ll really mean something?”
You nodded again, keeping your eyes shut as you focused on the feeling, on how perfectly he fit inside you, on how his hands felt holding you tightly and keeping you close.
He kissed you again, just for a second before he started to kiss different places on your face, moving his hips (finally) though keeping you on edge with how slow he was going. “D’you want a boy or a girl?” he asked, pressing his smile against the side of your face.
“Boy,” you blurted out— something about the way he was moving inside you made all pretense fall away, and you could speak purely on instinct.
“No, no way,” he laughed, “our first has got to be a girl. Think of all the sweet little things we can dress her in!”
“Our first? There’s more?” you gasped— partially because of what he said, mostly because he was holding your hips tight and keeping you close so you had to feel every thrust in the deepest parts of you. You could barely believe he was keeping up conversation this well while fucking you like this…
“At least two more,” he announced.
“Fuck, and who’s having the other two? ‘Cause I only signed up for one,” you countered.
“I think you’re going to like it,” he decided, “and you’ll be the one begging me for a second. For your little boy you apparently want.”
“I just said that randomly,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Don’t read into it.”
“Yeah? What would you name a boy, then?”
“Daniel,” you answered far too quickly. “O-or James…”
“Hm,” he smiled, “I like James better. They’re both pretty traditional— why not something a little more adventurous?”
“Such as…?”
“I dunno… Wolfgang,” he offered, seemingly off the top of his head, and you snorted.
“Oh, I didn’t realize we were having a German baby,” you laughed.
“Doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re having a girl anyways,” he decided, kissing you just beside your ear, picking up his pace inside you just a bit. “I know it. I already know it.”
“Could always name the girl Wolfgang,” you panted, hoping to sound composed even though you were on fire inside.
“Don’t give me any ideas,” he warned, gently biting on your earlobe for a moment. “I always wanted to call a girl Agatha.”
“You’re joking,” you hoped, flatly.
“Or Penelope,” he added.
“We’ll go with that one,” you decided, whimpering when one of his hands grabbed your thighs and held your leg at a deeper angle— it made everything more intense all of a sudden. You gasped and grabbed his shoulders tighter, digging your nails in, and heard him hum proudly.
“Do you just really like that name, or do you like what I’m doing to you?” he asked playfully.
“Please, just a little faster,” you begged, “jus’ need a little more, Joe, please, please…”
“Shh,” he soothed quietly, moving to hover above you again and lifting both of your legs this time, “m’gonna give you want you need, darling, if you just trust me, okay?”
He lifted your legs onto his shoulders, and leaned down over you— he hadn’t even moved yet and your whole body tensed up, your back arching and your eyes rolling back.
“How’s that feel?” he asked with a knowing grin as you reached down to grab the sheets under you for dear life. “It’s not too deep, is it?”
“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I— Joe!”
You couldn’t say anything else because he gave you a sudden, sharp thrust that made you feel like his cock was in your chest or something. How could it be this deep, how could anything be this deep?
“Fuck,” you cried, toes curling where they were suspended in the air behind his head. Apparently you were more flexible than you realized— and closer to coming, too.
“You’re so wet,” he noticed with a sigh, “my god, darling, you’ve really soaked my cock, just because I said I was going to get you pregnant? That’s all it takes?”
Whimpering, you nodded while holding your bottom lip between your teeth.
“I will,” he promised, his own voice finally showing signs of his desperation— he could only keep his cool for so long. “I will, love, I promise.”
His hands found yours, and pinned them to each side of your head as your fingers weaved together. It didn’t take much more of that for you to come— intense and nearly overwhelming, yes, but sort of… comfortable, too. Not as harsh and sudden as it had been with him before, not the kind to make you scream or sob or anything. Those were like being thrown into the deep end; this one was more like laying on the beach and feeling each wave slide over the sand and wash higher and higher up your body until you were immersed in it— but without that pesky drowning thing. It was much more pleasant than that.
“Beautiful,” he whispered to you as he watched you go under, “so fucking beautiful— I love you so much, sweetheart.”
“Love you too,” you gasped out.
He choked a little on his groan; “Again,” he demanded, “say it again.”
“I love you,” you promised, “Joe, I love you so so much…”
He squeezed your hands, and you were too weak and limp now to properly squeeze them back. “I-I’m gonna come,” he stammered between heavy breaths, “please, darling— I can come inside, right? Let me come inside you, love, I need to…”
“Yes,” you breathed, back arching deeper, “yes, fuck, of course you can.”
He bit his lip, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes that captured you completely. “I’m gonna come inside you,” he promised, speaking in a low voice that made a shiver run up your spine, “but I’m not gonna stop. Okay?”
Fuck. Was that even physically possible?
“Can you take it, love?”
You whimpered, but nodded confidently. You could hardly tell he was coming when he did it while still fucking you just as fast— his hips rutted into yours and each flex of his cock seemed to be timed just right with when he was deepest inside you. Even when you thought you were totally spent, you managed to arch your back a bit more without even meaning to.
He’d been putting more effort into keeping himself partially upright than you realized, because when his strength gave out and he partially collapsed onto you, it forced your legs even closer to your chest— and then you were both delirious from the feeling.
He was just as loud as you, moaning into your neck and the pillow under you as he moved way faster than before, letting go of one of your hands so he could grab your thigh instead to keep you still.
“Fuck,” he grunted, “fuck, darling— I can’t stop until I give you everything.”
“Don’t,” you agreed, “don’t stop… that’s what I want, I want everything. I want e-every drop of you inside me…”
He hissed through his teeth briefly before he kissed you again; this kiss was a lot more feverish than the last, so much more desperate and filled with moans and gasping breaths against each other.
“Oh, fuck!” you whined when he shifted his hips a little lower and forced his cock right into that spot— the one that was all swollen and sensitive from the last time you came. “Fuck, baby, please—”
Maybe if he were a little more conscious he would say something all witty and mocking like, is that a pet name or a request? But he was fighting to keep from falling apart already, fucking into you desperately and quickly even though you were both overstimulated and there was a mix of your and his come starting to make a patch on the silk sheets.
His mouth was slack and open right above yours, and he was getting louder and louder as his hands held yours so tight it was almost painful— it would’ve been very painful, actually, if your hands and feet weren’t already going numb.
When you came again, it was the last straw for him— he let go of your hands to grab onto your shoulders, for some reason, and let out a shaky whining sort of noise; he stopped moving and you really felt it now, the pulsing of his cock inside your sore channel. You felt full and dizzy and sleepy, the outside of your body entirely limp while your insides kept flexing in spite of the exhaustion.
He let go of your hands, slowly, and used his new freedom to carefully guide your legs down— around his waist, instead, and not held up on his shoulders. You hissed from the soreness in your hips, but relaxed as he trailed slow, gentle kisses along your cheek.
“So,” he began with a sigh, “that was…”
“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement.
You both returned to catching your breath for a moment, while his thumb stroked the upper part of your thigh gently— it did more to soothe you than you expected.
“You came twice,” you noticed.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“H-how…?”
His face came back up so you could get a proper look at him— flushed and sweating, a loose curl sticking to his forehead, glassy-eyed and wearing a tilted smile— and you felt yourself clench inside again at just how pretty he was. “I guess I was just feeling… extra inspired,” he grinned, kissing the tip of your nose as he brushed hair away from your face with his hand. “Did you like it?”
“Like it?! Fuck, it was so hot,” you laughed. “I mean, you barely even slowed down…”
“What can I say? I really, really want to get you pregnant.”
You shivered. “Well now I really, really want to be pregnant.”
“I bet it won’t take us too long,” he decided. “But we should start tracking your cycle and everything, make sure we’re doing everything right… here, while I’m at it—”
He reached past your head and grabbed a pillow, lifting your hips to slide it underneath them before he set you back down— all without pulling out.
“I’ve heard it helps it all stay inside,” he explained.
“You’ve really prepared for this, haven’t you?” you noticed, and he looked at your face carefully.
“If you’re really not sure, it’s not too late to just take the pill tonight and go back to normal,” he reminded you, leaning down closer again. “I won’t be mad or anything.”
“No, this is what I want,” you promised. “So, so much.”
He smiled and kissed you quickly, though you reached up and weaved your fingers into his curls so you could pull him back down for more. “Are we trying again tomorrow?” he wondered, speaking quietly into the kiss.
summary: you sneak out of your trailer to party with eddie, but a storm stops you before you get there
warnings: smut, tiny bit of fluff, unprotected sex, probably not very good, mention of storms if that bothers you,
no word count since this is somewhere between a headcannon and fic lmao
"I'll be back before curfew, mom!" You shout, stomping your foot on the carpeted floor. You'd been arguing with your mom for 30 minutes, which is why you should've just snuck out in the first place
your mom shakes her head as she smokes her cigarette, waving you away. you groan, stomping back to your room and making double sure to slam the door hard enough to make the walls rattle
you jerk your head to your window as you hear eddie's van pull up, cringing when he blows the horn
"fuck it"
you run over to your window, opening it and crawling through, landing on the grass. your parents are gonna kill you when they realize you're not there, but you have to see eddie
"what took you so long?" eddie asks, driving away before you've even fully climbed into the van
"mom's being a bitch again,"
eddie snorts, driving off in the direction of the party. rain starts falling down, blocking eddie's view of the road
"shit! gonna have to pull over," he mutters, glancing over his shoulder before pulling the van to the shoulder of the road
you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. you don't mind being stuck in the van with eddie, but you hate storms
"aw, baby. you worried about the storm?" eddie asks, reaching over to push your hair away from your face
you shrug him off, rolling your eyes. "not scared of anything,"
eddie watches as you try to be tough, too scared to be vulnerable. you've been together for 8 months, now. you should know that it's okay to be vulnerable around him
"you could always distract me,"
before you know it, you're in the back of the van, sitting on eddie's lap. his hands are up your skirt, his lips marking your neck
you fist his hair, grinding against his lap
"fuck, baby. feel so good,"
you reach between you, sliding your panties to the side. he unbuttons his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. you waste no time guiding him into you, sinking down on his cock
the rain is hitting the van harder now, but you're not focused on anything but eddie
you place your hands on his shoulders, tensing when the thunder shakes the van. you ignore it, lifting yourself up and down, his cock dragging against your walls
"eddie, feel you so deep,"
eddie thrusts up against you, his back against the van wall. when he has enough of you having the control, he flips you over, gathering your wrists in his hand
"gonna fuck you so stupid that you don't even realize it's storming outside,"
and boy, did he do just that
after a while, you'd be a drooling mess, sweaty and panting underneath him
"eddie, 'm gonna cum!"
eddie thrusts into you one last time, spilling deep inside you, watching as you cum underneath him, completely oblivious to the storm around you
he rolls off of you once you both catch your breath, pulling you close to him
eddie kisses your temple, closing his eyes as he hears you already snoring next to him
