Le Roi Et L'Oiseau Vs Le Château De Cagliostro (The King And The Mockingbird Vs The Castle Of Cagliostro)

This is so beautiful😭😭😭😭

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

Masterlist

Hey there! Now bear with me as I'm not tech savvy so this won't be as pretty as some Masterlists but I'm doing my best, darn it!

My name is Kathryn :), She/Her Pronouns, early 30s but feel older lol'

I do take a requests! Please send me any requests or suggestions. I always read them and write them down.

I write mostly for Eddie and Steve but I'm down for others.

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Characters

Eddie Munson

Unattainable Series

In the Eye of the Beholder

In the Eye of the Beholder Part 2

I Got You

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds Series

Pushing the Barrier series (ongoing kinda)

But What If I Want to Stay

Always Behind You series

Eddie Asks

Silence

Ghost In The Machine (on going)

Steve Harrington

Date Night Series (on going until I run out of ideas)

Playing the Game series

A Virtual Romance series

Saying Sorry (on going)

Those Days

Inside of Her Head

In Your Corner (Steve Ask)

In Your Corner Part 2

I Miss the Misery

My Lucifer is Lonely

My Lucifer is Lonely Part 2

Steddie

Good Neighbors series

We're a Family series

Steddie Dream Drabble

Aftercare series

I'm in Control series

The King, The Bat, and The Runaway series

Take It Out On Me series

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) series (On going)

Head Filled With Demons/Secret Sinners

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites

Halsey series (on going)

Children of the Night series

Little Girl Gone (On going)

Don't Be So Hard (on going)

Secret Underneath (on going)

Yin & Yang

Yin & Yang Part 2

Created A Monster

Steddie Asks

I'm Just A F**ked Up Girl

Kurt Kunkle

A Toxic Lesson

A Toxic Lesson Part 2

Gator Tillman

"I can take care of you." (Gator Request)

Small Doses

concepts:

yuuri and yuri having trouble knowing who is being talked to

“ Yuri! Redo that toe loop! No, no, Yuri! The other one! Godammit.”

victor practicing his routines and stopping in the middle because he gets distracted by yuuri

“Vitya! Why did you stop??” “Yakov, have you seen my husband?”

Keep reading

pairings: Eddie Munson x Vampire! Reader, Stranger Things AU

summary: Eddie doesn’t know what it is about you that has him spun, completely under your spell.

author’s note: Uh, I wrote the last 2k with one hand and did my best to edit it, so if you see mistakes (no you didn't) 🖤 i just wanted to write a little something for fun, an idea that popped into my head two weeks ago.

As always any feedback is so appreciated! Thank you for all the support so far 🖤

w/c: 7.7k

warnings: smut - oral (Eddie receiving), unprotected p in v, blood drinking, brief mentions of religion (Christianity) in relation to reader's upbringing, drinking, drugs, death, a small descriptor of reader having hair long enough to tie into a ponytail. Please let me know if I missed any!

The year was 1740, the year of your birth.

Your second birth. 

You were an average twenty-two-year-old. Desirable by all societal standards but unwed and edging closer to that worrisome age where your family began to question if you would ever marry.

But you didn’t have any desire to be a wife, to give birth to child after child in an endless cycle of pregnancy until the day you died.

It all seemed uninteresting, the furthest thing from your deepest desire. You wanted to be far from ordinary, something so exhilarating that it scared you. Something or someone that even your imagination couldn’t dream up.

One night it seemed like all of your wildest dreams and all your worst nightmares came true at once.

It had been a cold winter night, the snow covered the ground in a thick sheet. Loud underneath your boots as you walked through the town, obscured by your hooded cloak. 

The streets were silent, dark except for the dim light of your oil lantern guiding you on your quest. It was naive in retrospect but your feet moved eagerly toward the secret spot you agreed to meet him. 

Henry Davis was, by all appearances, a gentleman. Minus the usual shrewd regard for anything or anyone considered other. He liked your independence, the way you disregarded societal expectations. 

The way your ass felt pressed against his clothed cock. 

That night was meant to be the night; clothes shed, bodies pressed together, breaths mingling. 

But you never made it there. 

In the dark of night, a shadow shifted and you wrote it off.

Your mind was just playing tricks on you. 

Then another shifted and suddenly you were surrounded, encircled mostly by men you didn’t recognize. Men whose faces were masked in cruelty, their eyes hungry. Angry. The threat of them had sent a shudder through your spine. 

And amongst them was Henry, his gruesome smile the worst of them all. Pride coming off him in waves because you’d been tricked, you’d been had, and it had been his doing.

You were too scared to be embarrassed, your eyes searching for an exit but the men were closing in. 

In an instant, you discovered that it wasn’t your body they wanted. 

It was your blood. 

Their teeth were sharper than the frigid air, cutting into you like knives. 

Stealing your life force. 

Leaving you for dead or close to it. 

You’d laid there dying, vision blurring at the edges as you gasped. Unable to catch a breath. Begging your God for the end.

You’d thought it was a figment of your imagination, that someone had returned and pressed a thick coppery liquid to your dying lips. 

And you thought it was part of dying the way your insides twisted, the way your veins felt like they’d been set ablaze. Heart hammering as it beat wildly against your chest and you clawed at your throat trying to escape what was inevitable. 

Your heart thudded once, twice, and then never again. The final breath that escaped your lips shallow and no longer necessary. 

The silent night turned loud, the sound of the bugs blaring and ringing in your ears. You could see through the darkness, your eyes darting to animals as they scurried in the trees and amongst the fields.

“Hello, my child.” 

His name was Thomas, and he was beautiful. Skin resembling porcelain and free of any blemishes. Captivating blue eyes transfixed on you, hand beckoning you towards him. And without hesitation, you took it.

From that moment he ushered you into a new life. One filled with an endless bloodlust, a seemingly endless need for power and control.

It is 1989 and you’ve been alive for over two hundred years.

The world around you had changed but you were no different than the day you had died. 

You were the same twenty-two-year-old. Far from average, and beautiful in a way that was unnerving to strangers that encountered you. They were never able to put their finger on it, the way you made them uneasy despite not doing anything for them to feel that way.

Too dumb to realize it was their sixth sense telling them to run, warning them of the immediate danger.

You bored of the hunt long ago, the blood lust not nearly as strong as it once was.

Well…not as fun.

All the money and power hadn’t made you happy.

The joy of exacting revenge and letting Henry meet the sun only lasted a century.

Though it did make you grin when you thought of the way his ashen remains drifted in the wind. 

No one to remember him, no one to care. 

Now, you didn’t know what you wanted but you knew it couldn’t be found in the crowded streets of the concrete jungle and you went searching for something that felt like home.Whatever that meant for an orphaned vampire.

You moved from New York City and made a home out of Hawkins four months ago. 

The small town reminded you of the life you once had. The deafening silence and hushed whispers. Religious nuts with an agenda. 

But you quickly found your crowd, someone you might refer to as a friend if anyone asked. And seeing him every night made your never-ending, suffocating loneliness worthwhile. 

Less daunting. 

You pulled open the doors to The Hideout, their old wood creaking with the force of your strength. 

Eddie’s head cocked up at the familiar sound of your heeled shoes and watched as you approached, a familiar look shading his molten honey eyes.

The kind of look you were used to getting from those around you, their innocent human minds unaware that their attraction was due to the natural vampire allure that exuded from you and made them easier prey. More likely to follow you down a dark alley despite their better judgments.

He smiled at you wide, his dimples piercing the flesh on either side of his plump lips. 

Eddie Munson was a real salt of the earth man beneath the layers of anger and resentment that he hid behind but you’d found that he was easy enough to unravel. Months of nightly visits exposing his molten center and it took him just as long to crack your hardened exterior. 

“Busy night, Munson?” you asked and gave him an equally broad smirk as you glanced around and slid onto the stool before him, a small chuckle escaping your lips when you noticed Mr. Cartwright falling asleep with a beer in hand.

The bar was nearly empty except for a few regulars spread around in varying states of inebriation. Madonna played on the jukebox, a cute blonde danced offbeat to the insipid song. Her partner held onto her like a life raft. 

It was the typical crowd for a weekday. The Hideout’s only busy nights were on Fridays when bands came to play or the weekends when there were specials on the drinks.

“Nothing crazier than a Wednesday night,” he responded, his words heavy with sarcasm and a raise of his eyebrows. His strong hands already reaching for the ingredients of your usual drink.

A strawberry Negroni; a bitter drink with an eerie color resembling blood before it oxidized.

“Am I that predictable?” Your brows quirked as he pushed the glass towards you.

“Just a little, City Girl,” he teased and began to rinse the mixer he’d used to concoct your drink.

You took a swig, jaw clenching as the alcohol burned your throat. The warmth still felt as it settled into your empty stomach.

If you were honest, you enjoyed the quiet lull of the bar and the fact that you got Eddie’s undivided attention. 

At first, you were guarded; completely thrown by his dramatics and how he talked to everyone without restraint. Slowly he had chipped away at your marble exterior, teasing you and asking you questions, at least one, every time he saw you. Doing his best to get to know you better, a concept that had been foreign to you for some time. 

Where are you from?

Why’d you leave New York?

Is it as great as they say?

Why the fuck would you choose to live in Hawkins?

He knew your favorite drink, the songs you hated from the downturn of your mouth whenever they came on the radio, that black seemed to be your favorite color, and he’d noticed that you only came out when the sun had set.

“I have a question for you,” Eddie remarked.

“Don’t you always?” You grinned around your glass and took another sip.

He ducked his head, a hint of embarrassment vibrating off him—the thrum of his heart loud.

“There is one thing I still haven’t figured out,” Eddie began.

“You’ve been trying to figure me out?” You interrupted, settling your glass back onto the wooden counter. A cheeky grin pulling across your lips.

The banter between friends had become passive flirtation weeks ago when you began to crave more than just his blood.

You loved to tease him, to watch how his eyes would always go wide in surprise, or how a crooked smile would spread across his lips. 

“I’m sure everybody in this small town is,” he laughed, though his cheeks turned a brilliant red at your question.

“And what have you uncovered, Detective Munson?” You played along, voice sing-songy in your encouragement.

“Not much,” he raised his hands as if to show you he was empty-handed.

“Why is it that I never see you in town and only see you here when the sun has set? You must work some crazy long hours. You a nurse or something?”

“‘M not a nurse, blood makes me queasy,” you lied. 

Eddie’s lips pursed at your confession, mind working overtime to figure you out. 

“Then what are you? Come on, you’ve got to at least give me a hint,” he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at you expectantly. 

Your gaze traced his lean muscle, eyeing the way his biceps bulged beneath the plain black t-shirt he wore. The way his hair was tied into a low bun, loose strands framing the sharp lines of his face. The veins in his hands were pronounced, the blood that coursed within them a low hum. 

If your heart still beat it would’ve been racing with want.

“Now what would be the fun in that?” Your gaze met his as you raised your glass to your mouth, rubbing the cool rim of it against the swell of your lower lip.

You were teasing him despite how close he was to discovering your secret; why you could only come out at night or risked being roasted by the sun.

An intensity passed between you, a stimulating silence that filled the small bubble you shared with him.

“That’s it? No other guesses?” You asked, breaking through the tension.

He shrugged, trying to appear unaffected by the energy buzzing between you.

“Maybe a creature of the night,” he joked and wiggled his fingers at you, making a noise that resembled a caricature of a ghost and for the first time in centuries you giggled.

A light sound that made Eddie feel a pang of pride.

“And if I was?” You arched your brow at him, gazing into his big amber eyes from below your lashes. 

A little hypnotizing. Enticing him despite the looming threat.

“Are we talking furry friend or something closer to Nosferatu?”

“Well, I don’t have a tail to wag and you don’t see me outside howling at the moon tonight.” You pointed a sharp nail toward a window and to the full moon that cast a yellow glow into the darkened parking lot.

Eddie chuckled at your dramatics.

“I mean, I’ve seen Vampira. Undead chicks can be hot,” Eddie shrugged.

“Oh? You don’t mind a little biting?”

You wiggled your eyebrows, listening as the blood rushed to his cheeks, noticing how his breathing quickened at your words.

It had always been a fun little game, toying with a potential meal. Flirting until they were stuttering, unable to produce a sentence. You could still hear what your old master used to say.

Don’t play with your food.

But Eddie wasn’t food and you reminded yourself, repeating the words like a mantra.

Eddie is not food.

Eddie is not food.

“I’ve never shied from a little nibble,” Eddie interrupted your internal battle and leaned his elbows onto the counter, openly flirting despite the thrum of his heart. The nerves that seeped into his sinew.

“I should’ve known,” you pointed your finger at him, fighting the smirk that threatened to give your enjoyment away. 

Eating up his words.

“What is that supposed to mean, city slicker?” Eddie moved a half an inch closer, playing into your game; teasing you just as you were teasing him. 

Daring you to say exactly what it was you meant.

Your usual game of cat and mouse had new stakes. Leaving you to question who was the cat and who was the mouse.

“I could just picture you covered in love bites, dabbling with handcuffs.”

Your eyes drew the brunette in, bewitching him despite your lack of immortal abilities.

“Are you trying to find out?” He challenged you. 

You tiptoed near the line; the one that put you at risk.

“Are you trying to show me?” 

You finished your drink, swallowing hard before setting the glass onto the counter with a thud; fingers playing with the condensation. Eying the way Eddie’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his carotid thrumming with exhilaration.

He was caught off guard, your conversation turning from the typical flirty banter to an open invitation. 

The hesitancy was written on his brow, etched into the lines of his forehead and you wished you had the power to read his mind. 

“What if I am?” 

“Then you should come to my house once you close up.” You whispered, leaning closer. 

Instinctively Eddie closed the space, his mouth inches from yours.

You gave him a teasing smirk, reaching over the counter for a napkin before settling back into your seat. He watched as you opened your purse and fished for the spare pen sitting at the bottom. Quickly you sprawled your address on the paper, pushing it toward him once you were done along with what you owed him for your drink.

You didn’t wait for his reaction, hopping off the barstool and walking through the doors. Back into the warm summer air.

Hawkins smelled a lot like how the world used to before it got itself into a hurry and became a flurry of machinery; polluting the sky with waste from industrialization. 

But this air was sweet; maple leaves and wet soil. The corn fields exuded an aroma that mingled with the rest. 

And the night was loud, the chirping of the crickets amplified. Creating a song with the cicadas that lived in the trees. In the distance, you heard the sound of idling cars and whispers from a pair of lovers near the lake. It had been hundreds of years since you couldn’t hear everything around you. Couldn’t read people based on their increased heart rate, or the sound of their quickening breath.

It was in the streets of New York where you began to long for the mystery, to miss wondering what came next. Trying to guess what someone’s intentions were. It made life less predictable, less monotonous.

Cars whizzed past you as you walked the dirt path that led to your home; an abandoned Victorian mansion that townspeople believed to be haunted.

You’d encountered ghosts before but they didn’t live within your walls. The only thing spooky about the home was its murderous past; though those killings didn’t compare to the trail of bodies you’d left behind.

There was never a knock on your door or any questions raised about your renovations as you scraped and cleaned the dirty interior.

You figured the towners were too polite or scared to ask questions opting to gossip amongst themselves instead. 

But you didn’t mind the whispers. 

Finding amusement in their sideways glances, and increased heart rates when you were around. Fear of the unknown taking hold of them. 

The only challenge of the small town was its population. 

Hawkins had a mere ten thousand citizens, a far cry from the sprawling city you’d retreated from making it harder to hunt. To find food that satiated your hunger. 

You’d settled for rabbits, bobcats; really whatever you could find. But their gamey blood didn’t compare to the richness human prey had to offer. 

Every human had a special flavor based on their dietary preferences and varying lifestyles. Some had bold, deep flavors while others were light; almost tasting of fruit. A select few tasted as polluted as the air around you, toxins mingling within their life force and tainting their taste.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Eddie would taste like. Imagining his strong flavor as his blood coursed over your tongue and your incisors grew, poking into your lips at the thought.

Eddie is not food.

Eddie is not food.

Eddie is not food.

The words repeated over and over, engraining themselves into your brain. 

The door creaked as you stepped into your home, the dank smell of mildew and dust greeting you despite the hours you’d invested trying to clean the place. 

You dropped your purse onto the coat rack nestled by the front door, kicking off your heels and pulling up your hair as you walked further into the home. 

The original chandeliers gleamed above, flashing occasionally due to the old wiring. You’d decided to paint the walls a forest green; a color that stood out against the wood paneling covering half its surface and matching the tiles lining the fireplace in the foyer. 

Candles were perched on nearly every surface, wax melted below them and clinging to the candelabras that held them. 

You ran your hands along the wooden banister above the fireplace, glancing at the grandfather clock that marked the passing minutes in loud ticks.

There were several hours between now and when Eddie got off work. And you debated whether to change into something a little more comfortable. Questioning if that would be too obvious.

Did you really care if it was?

Taking the stairs two at a time you walked to your room and opened the armoire that sat against the wall closest to your bed; rifling through its contents until you found something indecent. Something that left little to the imagination. 

It was a burgundy dress hemmed in black lace that had a deep v-cut down the middle and a high slit on either side revealing the length of your legs. The curve of your ass was nearly exposed and barely covered. 

You sat at your vanity and reached for your red lipstick, swiping the vibrant color along your lips. Smiling at yourself despite the lack of reflection. 

Completely aware of just how good you looked. 

The snap of a twig caught your attention and you stilled as you listened to the approaching footsteps outside your home; recognizing the heavy tread of his shoes.

He’s early.

Eager.

You grinned to yourself and slowly made your way downstairs, anticipating the moment his hand rapt against the wood.

Giddy when it finally did.

Slowly, you opened the door. Measuring his response, enjoying the way his eyes widened and nearly bulged out of his head as he took you in.

“I could’ve sworn the Hideout was open until one,” you tapped a thoughtful finger against your chin. Pressing your lips together to fight the smile that threatened to give your satisfaction away.

“The customers understood I had more pressing plans.” Eddie pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging his shoulders and trying his best to conceal how antsy he was.

And you did your best not to notice.

“Do you want to come in?” You tilted your head and held the door open wide.

“Yeah,” he breathed and walked past you. Eddie smelled of bergamot and tobacco. Cozy, the way a warm fire used to make you feel. You could smell the spearmint gum hidden behind his lips, the tequila still burning on his tongue and you itched to taste him.

You watched as he glanced around your home, auburn curls free from the hair tie that restrained them before. Loose ringlets framing his face perfectly. 

“Knew I recognized the address,” he laughed, eying his surroundings.

“Haven’t been in here since it was condemned.” 

“Are you another superstitious townie?” You teased. 

“Oh come on, the Creel house is definitely haunted.”

“I’ve never seen a ghost.”

“Maybe they’re lurking, watching.” His voice dropped low, eerie as he began circling you. 

Doing his best to creep you out.

You shivered as his warm breath fanned against your exposed skin and if you were still alive your nervous system would’ve triggered goosebumps to sprout along your arms.

He stopped in his tracks as your fingers grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt and held him in place.

“I don’t scare easily, Eddie.” You walked your fingers up his chest and rested them against his sternum, eyeing him with want. 

He bent his head down towards yours, drawn in like any human would be.

But you weren’t ready to devour him just yet.

“Want some wine?”

You didn’t move, enjoying the way his warm breath felt as it fanned across your face. 

He nodded quickly and watched as you disappeared into the kitchen, his hand rubbing where yours had rested. 

Eddie walked further into the home, glancing at the pictures that lined the wall. Photos from an old world, at least a century ago. Solemn faces long gone, captured in a flash. 

He chuckled at the oddities that adorned another wall, preserved insects and wilted flowers. 

“Something amusing?” You questioned, handing a glass to him and holding onto one of your own. The red wine mixed with blood from a rat you’d just captured.

You weren’t fond of rodents but it would satisfy your thirst for now. Otherwise, you risked ripping Eddie Munson’s throat out.

“Just admiring your collection,” he pointed as he took a sip, trying to hide how the tart flavor made his face twist as it coated his tongue. 

“I have loads more in the study, those just happen to be my favorite.”

“Have you always collected bugs?”

“Bugs, trinkets, people. I go through phases.”

“People?” His lip quirked as he took another sip.

“You know, friends. More than friends. Depends on my mood.”

“What type of mood are you in tonight?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you answered playfully, both of you knowing it was a lie and reached for his hand, guiding him toward the living room. 

His palm was warm against your own, his pulse fluttering and felt throughout your cold body.

Like a jolt of electricity trying to bring you back to life.

The living room was gilded in antiquity, the walls lined with Victorian-style wallpaper. A green that matched the painted walls. 

A record player sat against one wall next to rows of records. A collection bigger than one Eddie had seen, bigger than the stock at the shop downtown. He dropped your hand, immediately intrigued. 

You watched as his eyes skimmed the titles, an impressed chuckle escaping his lips when he recognized they were alphabetized and organized by decade. 

“You listen to a little bit of everything,” he commented.

“I do but the sixties happen to be my favorite decade.”

For the music, the drugs, the sex.

“Let me guess, you were born in the wrong decade?” He snickered and you shook your head in disagreement. Coming to stand beside him, eyes dancing over features before turning to the covers as you recalled the memory of each one.

“I was born at the exact right time, got to experience everything.” 

Eddie’s face contorted, disbelief covering his features.

“You’re only, what, twenty?” He guessed.

“Something like that,” you smiled coyly and reached beside him, pulling your favorite album from the shelf; Rubber Soul by The Beatles. 

“Out of all of them, this is my favorite. Especially Nowhere Man.”

“Why?” He questioned and took another sip of his wine, fully invested.

“When I heard it, I was at a point in my life where I had lived for so long under someone else’s thumb and by someone else’s rules. I didn’t have any other perspective except the one that was given to me. I was nobody. Stuck in this endless comfortable cycle because I was too afraid to be uncomfortable. That’s the whole idea of the song, the angst of figuring yourself out and being too afraid to step out of what you’re used to.”

Eddie stood in silence, processing your words and suddenly you felt awkward. Like you’d shared too much. Made things weird or too heavy.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I didn’t mean to, like, drop my existential crisis on you.” You grimaced and moved to place the album back on the shelf but he intercepted you.

“You don’t have to apologize, there’s a lot of songs I feel that way about,” he paused. “My mom was more of an Elvis fan but sometimes she played these guys. Had me dancing in the middle of her kitchen. My little feet on her always clean tennis shoes. Personally, I’m a bigger fan of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It was a little more groovy, psychedelic, but we both know that was because of the drugs,” he chuckled. 

“Definitely because of the drugs but then again, there was nothing better than dropping acid and listening to them back then,” you laughed with him, not realizing your slip.

“Back then?” His head tilted in confusion. 

“Yeah, a few years back in New York,” you waved your hand absently, eyes blink quickly. Anxiously. Suddenly very aware that this was incredibly dumb and you were on the brink of revealing your secrets.

“I have Elvis here, what was your favorite?” You changed the subject.

He hesitated for a moment, and you could feel his eyes studying the side of your face before he responded.

“Stuck On You,” he finally answered with a hint of fondness, his eyes somewhere in the past. You reached for the album and placed it on the platter, placing the tonearm down. Watching as the needle fit into the grooves of the record. 

The familiar crackle of the record player warmed you and you looked to Eddie as the song came through the speakers. 

His head began to bob as he closed his eyes and smiled to himself. You wondered where his mind went. If he was right back in the kitchen with his mom. Little feet on hers, small hands clasped to soft palms. 

Eddie held his hand out towards you, a silent invitation. Welcoming you into part of his world, one that felt more intimate than anything you’d experienced. 

The night taking a different turn than you had expected. 

You hesitated, looking up at him with uncertainty but slowly slid your hand into his larger grasp. There was a moment of visible shock when your cold skin was pressed to his again and he jerked at the temperature. Your flesh frigid like the winter you’d died.

But he pulled you close. Your chest pressed to his, one hand nervously resting on your lower back and the other holding onto your hand. 

It wasn’t so much dancing as it was swaying but you could feel his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage and you wondered if he noticed the lack of thrum from yours. 

You closed your eyes, enjoying the press of him against you. The smell of him, the way his long hair tickled your cheek when you rested your head against his shoulder, how his breath skipped when you rubbed circles at the nape of his neck. 

Eddie pulled away from you but still kept you pressed against him, his face now inches from yours. Brown eyes darting from your gaze to the swell of your lips. 

It was a look you’d never had pointed in your direction but read of plenty; longing. 

An unfamiliar emotion clawed at your throat, one you hadn’t addressed since the days you were human; want. 

You wanted Eddie, more than just his blood or his body. In a way that scared you despite all the horrors you’d seen or experienced.

You leaned closer to him, eyes fluttering closed and hoping he’d close the space. Hoping you hadn’t read him wrong. 

His lips were soft as he kissed you once, measuring your response before he kissed you again. Eddie’s hand dropped yours to hold your face on either side, deepening the kiss. Paying special attention to the swell of your bottom lip. It made your body feel like it was buzzing with warmth, how it used to feel when you’d lay out in the sun many years ago. And you wanted to bask in it, to get lost in the feeling of kissing him. Your hands wrapped in his curls, arms twined around his neck. He moved his grasp to your waist, fingers pressing into the skin. Pinky rubbing circles against your exposed thigh and your desire clouded your judgment when you pulled at his lip, sharp incisor swiping against its flesh.

“Fuck,” he breathed and pulled away from you instinctively. Pressing his fingers to his lip and pulling it back, eyebrows raised at the site of blood. 

“Got some sharp teeth, sure you’re not a vampire?” He teased and pressed his finger to his lip again, attempting to stop the blood.

It felt like your mind went blank, every thought and every excuse evading you. Unable to come up with a convincing lie. You stared at him blankly, hand covering your mouth to conceal the fangs that had sprouted in your arousal. 

Eddie’s eyebrow raised as he looked at you, at the horrified expression that painted your features. 

“I was just kidding, City Girl,” he joked but he could tell that something was off. That something was wrong. 

He reached for you but you backed away, hand still covering your mouth.

“Did you hurt yourself too?” He asked, worried and you shook your head no. 

You knew it couldn’t go on like this, that you couldn’t hide forever and have him too. 

And maybe it was for the best that he knew now so he could run. 

He should fucking run.

Your hand dropped from your face revealing the two fangs that pushed against your mouth, their tips poking out and pressing into your bottom lip. 

Time ticked by slower, the grandfather clock’s arms louder as you waited for his reaction. 

Waited for him to run out of the house and tell everyone that the Devil was real and lived in their town. 

“A-are those real?” He approached you hesitantly, eyes focused on your incisors. 

“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes and allowing your shoulders to sag. Feeling defeated and exposed.

“You’re a vampire?” Eddie’s voice rose several octaves as he looked at you, eyes round like saucers. The sound of his thudding heart was loud in your ears and you could only nod in response.

“What, were you planning to have me for dinner?” His voice was incredulous, brows raised high on his forehead and lost underneath his curly bangs.

“Of course not,” your voice was sincere and you began to reach towards him but thought better of it, your hand falling to your side. 

It felt impossible to explain that although you craved him that you had no intention of succumbing to your vampirisitc instincts. 

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you think I’ve ever openly told someone I’m a vampire? I’m not trying to get a stake through the heart or be forced out into the sun.”

Eddie hesitated, chest rising and falling in quick succession as he studied you. Uncertainty evident in his gaze.

“All that stuff is true?” He asked quieter. 

“Some movies aren’t too far off,” you shrugged. Why did that matter?

“You owe me answers,” he plopped onto the couch, eyes darting to the cushion beside him.

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulously.

“Spill, City Girl.” He pointed his hands toward the couch and you obliged. 

Happy that he wasn’t running away. That for now he was staying.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. I mean, how old are you? When were you turned? How were you turned? What’s real and what’s fake?” He began to ramble off questions with the same curiosity you’d grown accustomed to whenever you’d walked into the bar. And the nerves that had been clawing at your throat began to subside.

“I’m twenty-two but I’ve been twenty-two since 1740.” 

“Holy shit-”

His eyes were wide once again and you could tell he was trying to do the mental math.

“Shut up,” you pushed gently at his head but laughed at his reaction. A certain levity brought to the conversation that allowed your fangs to shrink back to normal so you were more human than ghoul.

“So that makes you?

You groaned, humans and their need to put a number to everything.

“Two-hundred forty-nine. If we’re counting.” 

“Wow-”

“I know, I’m old,” You interrupted as you looked at your nails, avoiding his reaction. As though this news was worse than hearing that you were undead.

He grabbed your hand and entwined his fingers with yours. You looked at where you connected and back up at him, warmth spreading in your chest at his dimpled smile.

“I’ve always had a thing for older chicks,” he joked and you rolled your eyes.

“But you weren’t kidding, you have seen everything.”

“Well, mostly everything. I haven’t been around as long as some of the others.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation. 

“Some of the others?”

“There’s an elder who’s a few thousand years old,” you shared, slightly uncomfortable. It was against the rules of the coven to share your secrets, your history, with humans. Only the Elders could decide who was worthy.

“Is that who turned you?” 

You’d never talked about that night before, it wasn’t a conversation you had with other vampires. They didn’t focus on how they became just on what they were and it was easy to adopt that mindset, to try to push the cruel memory to the recesses of your mind. 

“No,” you shook your head. 

“My maker’s name was, is, Thomas. I don’t know his exact age but I imagine he is older than even the world that I was born into.” 

“Did you ask him to change you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Some of the humans who’d offered themselves as concubines or servants to the Elders had begged for the gift but you couldn’t imagine being a vampire now that you’d lived the life of one and endured the years of suffering. The endless hunger and the isolation.

“Back then, the church saw anything that wasn’t scripture as the work of the Devil. There were whispers of witches and worshippers. Talk of animals that had been butchered around the village but the idea of a vampire had never even occurred to me. That night, I was out to meet a boy but it was all a lure so they could drain me. They’d left me for dead when Thomas took pity on me. It was the worst pain I’d ever experienced.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and you shook your head at him. A bloody teardrop ran down your face and you quickly wiped at it, hoping he didn’t notice.

“You have no reason to apologize, it’s practically ancient history after all,” you joked with a small laugh. Trying your best to bring a bit of mirth to the situation. 

But Eddie didn’t buy it and pulled you closer until you were flush against him in a warm embrace.

“Why’d you choose Hawkins?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

“I closed my eyes, put my finger on a map, and decided to go wherever it landed.”

“Too bad it didn’t land on a much more interesting place.”

“It’s pretty interesting so far,” you hummed, letting the insinuation settle over him without another word. 

Eddie’s pulse had quieted to a steady thud, his fear subsided and it made butterfly wings unfurl at your center. 

The dormant feeling making itself known again. 

“Would you ever drink from me?” He asked barely above a whisper while he played with your fingers.

“Of course not!” You pulled away from him, gaze serious and set on his.

And he looked hurt by your words, as though there was something wrong with him that prevented you from feeding on him.

“Why not?” 

“E-Eddie, I-” you stammered, trying to compose your thoughts. Debating how honest you should be.

“I haven’t fed on a human since I moved here. I don’t know if I could stop,” you answered frankly. 

“What have you been feeding on?”

“Squirrels, rabbits. The occasional bobcat.” 

“Do they taste the same as…you know?”

“Humans? Gods no,” you sighed. 

“Do they satisfy you?”

“I haven’t been satisfied in ages.” Your gaze danced back and forth between his. A hidden meaning to your words.

Your eyebrows arched with a bit of jest.

“You can feed on me,” he insisted. 

“Eddie-” Your fangs began to grow at the thought, your jaw clenching as you imagined the way his blood would taste.

“I trust you.”

“You barely know me,” you chuckled.

“I could list everything I know about you, City Girl.”

“Name one.”

“You so want to taste me,” he baited, his words teasing and silly. 

You were happy you couldn’t blush. Even though it didn’t seem to matter, he could read you like a book. 

He pulled your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand and up your arm as you watched with eager eyes. His lips left a trail of fire behind, felt in your marrow. You stilled as he neared your shoulder, his thick curls brushing against your bare skin.

Eddie pulled you onto his lap and you went willingly, head tilted back as his tongue swiped along your neck and his mouth formed an “o” to suck at your skin. 

No bruise formed but the sensation was heavenly, a low moan escaping your lips. 

Your hips circled on his lap.

His fingers inched under your dress, warm against the jut of your hips and he pulled you closer until your lips crashed into his.

It wasn’t slow or sweet. 

It was a feral hunger unleashed. A scraping of teeth, a pull of lips. Frenzied as your mouths meshed together.

You allowed yourself to get lost in him, the world around you falling silent until the only thing you could hear were the small groans that escaped his lips.

His hands wandered further into your dress, nails scraping along your skin eliciting your own moans. 

You pushed at the hem of his shirt. 

Up

Up

Up

You pulled away to drag it over his head until his pale skin was displayed, tracing the ink etched onto his chest with your fingers lightly.

You’d always been fascinated with them; the way mortals could create beautiful scars to display.

Eddie tilted his neck, revealing his carotid that thrummed with life. You could hear the blood rushing through him. An invitation you weren’t ready to accept.

Instead you kissed his pulse, trailing lower and moved off his lap. He watched you with hooded eyes, the way you pulled at his jeans and tugged them down his thighs. Throwing them absently, your focus still remained on him.

You dragged your nails over the thick skin that covered the lean muscle of his lap, relishing the way Eddie shivered in anticipation. 

Your hand gripped his clothed cock firmly, your center aching when you felt the girth of his dick against your hand. 

He helped you push his boxers down and you watched as it sprang free, his pretty pink tip already leaking for you. Your tongue darted out, humming as his pre-cum coated your tongue; a slightly salty taste that made you hum.

Your gazes remained linked as you ran your tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft, your saliva dribbling down its length and coating his balls. 

His hands gripped your hair, nails scraping along your scalp as you stroked him. Tongue teasing his tip once more before your mouth slowly wrapped around his cock. Mouth widened, saliva trickling from either side due to his size, and Eddie about came at the sight of you. 

You started slow, allowing his length to push against the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks out and sucking to his tip with a loud pop.

Teasing, testing, and taking your time to drive him a little mad. 

Eddie’s moans only encouraged you, and you relished in the way his head was thrown back, curls fanned against your couch, his grip tightened on your hair as you continued to tease.

Increasing your pace, one hand following you up and down his shaft. The other massaging his balls. 

“Fucking hell-” he groaned and you continued.

“‘M not going to last like this,” he mumbled between deep sighs, losing composure.

“I want to taste you,”

“I need to feel you,”

You both stated in unison. 

Your chest was heaving despite the lack of breath and slowly you stood, positioning yourself over his lap. Holding yourself over his cock. 

Eddie took his time, kissing along your shoulders as he pushed the straps of your dress down. Mouth moving lower and lower until they hit the tops of your breasts. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked despite your obvious need, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” 

He removed your dress and hung it over the back of your couch. 

Eyes always on you, taking you in.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart,” he remarked and ran a finger along the curve of your breast. His gaze fixed on yours. 

Your nipples were hard as you anticipated the feel of his mouth, gasping when his tongue finally ran alongside the budded flesh. 

He pulled your nipple into his mouth with a tug of his teeth, tongue flicking across your perked breast. 

Instinctively, your hands curled in his hair as your hips jutted against him. The evidence of your arousal coating his cock and making a mess of his lap. 

The need was overwhelming, the lust heightened as you reached between your bodies and lined his cock up with your dripping cunt. 

He watched as you lowered yourself onto him, his eyebrows marrying in the middle at the sensation.

The stretch was delicious, causing you to ache in the best way as you wrapped around him.

You took him slowly just as you did with your mouth. 

Inch by inch, teasingly pulling off his cock to hear his gasps of pleasure. To feel his fingers press deeper into your hips. 

Until teasing wasn’t enough and you took every inch of him, moaning loudly when he was fully seated inside of you. 

Allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. 

“You feel so good, Eddie,” you sighed and could feel the way his cock twitched inside you at the compliment. 

You used his shoulders as leverage and began to ride him, swirling your hips to hit the spot you most enjoyed. 

“Feed on me,” he insisted, exposing his neck to you once more. 

For a moment you hesitated, thinking of all the humans you’d had. All the ones who died unintentionally and those who perished on purpose. 

But pure want overcame any hesitancy you had and you leaned closer, swiping your tongue over his pulse before you plunged your fangs into the thick skin that lined his neck.

He groaned, hands gripping your waist harder as you began to feed.

Eddie tasted just as you imagined, the richness of his blood unlike any other you’d tasted.

The lewd noise of his cock inside your wet cunt filled your home as blood began to trickle down his chest.

You licked it up not wanting to waste a drop as Eddie gripped your ass and began rutting himself deeper inside you. 

“Oh Eddie,” you whined and reached between your bodies to rub your fingers against your sensitive bud. 

You titled your head back, losing yourself in the sensation, and he began to trail kisses up your chest and to your neck. Mouth searching for yours as your hips matched his pace. 

Each of you edging closer to coming undone. 

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned into your mouth, his pace not wavering. 

Steadily pumping every inch into you. 

“Eddie, I’m going to cum,” you moaned and he began to encourage you between kisses. Coaxing your release from you and pushed his larger fingers on top of your smaller ones that worked your clit. 

It was an ecstasy you’d never experienced before; the high of human blood combined with the weightlessness an orgasm offered you. 

Your head was buzzing and it was as if the whole world disappeared around you as the orgasm took over, coursing through you in violent waves as Eddie continued to worship you. 

You repeated his name like an old prayer you once knew; over and over with conviction. 

“Sweetheart, where do you want it?”

“Fill me,” you pleaded and Eddie bucked beneath you, his seed coating your walls as he groaned your name. 

The two of you stilled, his labored breaths warm along your chest and you looked at him with a wide smile. 

You loved how his warm body felt against your cold skin, the way his heart was beating wildly against his chest, and how perspiration made his bangs cling to his forehead. 

His cheeks blossomed a bright pink. Eyes hooded and body spent. 

So beautifully human. 

He helped you off his lap but kept you close, holding you next to him as you lay on the couch. Your legs slotted between his, long nails grazing along his chest as he pressed kisses to your forehead. 

Eddie’s breathing became heavier and you knew that he was sleeping.

You felt that familiar pang, deep in your chest where your heart once beat. 

It didn’t feel like falling in love, it felt like recognition. 

I didn't post this even tho I made it like ages ago...

A minute wasted to make this was it worth it... No

18+ minors DNI, almost everything here has explicit sexual content

*******

Eddie Munson

Blurbs

Harder

Drunk dial

Best friends

And then head?

Nasty

Let it all go

Give me a show

One more

Good boy

Movie night

Pathetic

Porn

Kas Eddie

A mess

Tease

Obsessed

Teasing Eddie

One shots

The Pact

The switch

4/20

Just Friends

No one fucks me like you

Mark Me

High on you

Good Girl

Thots and drabbles

Eddie is a munch

Pussy drunk

Cum on my lips, baby

Mine

Morning head

I want a bite 😩

Dorky Eddie

Eddie fluff

Desperate

3 am

Giving Eddie head for the first time

Eddie’s Diary

Home page

Intro

There’s a first for everything

A taste

Ex Boyfriend Eddie

I hate you, I love you

Steddie x Reader

Cashmere and Cigarettes

Steve Harrington

Blurbs

Dreams

Animal

One shots

Memory lane

😘

THE CUTEST SHIT EVER😍

Dreaming of You

Summary: Plagued by graphic dreams about the Munson boy, you decided to see if he can make them come true.

Word count: 10.3k

What to expect: Virgin!Eddie Munson. Smut/Lemon. (-18 kindly dni)

A/N: This was supposed to be something short, hot, and fun, but somehow turned into a therapy session. So this is for all my girlies who have suffered bad sex, been robbed of their O's, and made to feel like pleasing them was too much work. I’m very much a long fic kind of gal, so this is a bit of a different speed for me. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

Yes, that is a Selena song title.

It started with a dream where Eddie The Freak Munson made an appearance. You knew who he was. Everyone did. But you never paid him more than a glance or two until your unconscious mind conjured up a peculiar image of his face buried between your legs on top of O’Donell’s desk. At first you couldn’t quite place who it was until he withdrew from you. Even in sleep, you were lucid enough to be shocked that the freak was the one to turn your legs to jelly. He interrupted your thoughts by commanding you to roll on your belly and stick your ass in the air so he could fuck you full right in the middle of the empty math classroom.

After waking up with a sticky situation to remedy, you started to pay more attention to him. Eddie Munson was no longer a loud extra in the backdrop of your day to day life.

Now that he was on your radar, you could spot him anywhere. He towered over almost everyone. Was he always so tall? And kind of built in a scrappy sort of way? You saw him without his jacket once and had the sudden urge to just run your hands up his shirt and feel his lithe abdomen. Maybe even lightly scrape your nails down it just to see the red marks left behind.

Your ogling led to the discovery that he had really nice hands. Even if they were covered with an excessive amount of silver rings that directed the reflection of sunlight from the window into your eyes if you looked his way too long. You wondered if the cheap faux silver turned his thick fingers green, but then forgot to care once you started to wonder what else those fingers could do--if the stretch of them would feel just as good as you dreamt.

You also noticed that he stuck his tongue out a lot. It was like he knew what you dreamt about and was intentionally tormenting you. When he was antagonizing Jason in the cafeteria, you nearly fainted at the sight—tongue so long it nearly reached the bottom of his chin. It didn’t take long for you to imagine yourself sitting on his face, writhing on the wet, flat muscle and thinking about how his nose would probably bump in just the right spot. How you’d love to thread your fingers through the hair at the crown of his head and--

A curiosity soon turned into an obsession. Morning, noon, and night your thoughts were flooded with the boy in the leather jacket. You couldn’t escape him even in your dreams.

You had to have him.

Many hours of the school day were dedicated to coming up with a plan on how to get his attention, but it was more difficult than you hoped. He was always surrounded by people and looked as if he were in the middle of a tirade, which judging by his outburst in the cafeteria—he probably was. Waiting for him to be isolated wasn’t yielding any results, but the thought of going up to him when he was in a group of boys who looked less than welcoming wasn’t what you wanted either.

There was a possibility that Eddie would laugh at you. Turn you into a spectacle and belittle you for asking him out. He was loud, opinionated, boisterous, and quite abrasive if the wrong person approached him. You hoped he wouldn’t do that to you, but you didn’t know him well enough to say for sure.

But then he appeared in another dream that caused a yearning so severe that you decided to risk it all.

He was easy to find in the parking lot after school. As usual, he had some of his friends orbiting around him, though it only seemed to be a few of the younger ones that looked less intimidating than his normal posse. Taking a deep breath to gather your wits, you approached Eddie Munson.

Or at least tried to. The Super senior paid you no mind as you stood beside him. He continued to address the small ring in front of him, not noticing that they were staring at you with open mouths and wide eyes instead of listening to him.

“--You can beg all you like, Wheeler, but the answer is no. Why don’t you ask your buddy ol pal Harrington to get it--what are you all looking at?” Eddie turned to follow their gaze. His face shifted from mild annoyance to confusion as he stared at you.

Losing a bit of your nerve at the way his brown eyes bore into you, you faltered. “H-hey, Eddie.”

His brow furrowed in further uncertainty. “Hi?”

You couldn’t blame him for being uneasy at your sudden attempt at contact, having ignored him for the years you’d been in school together. But it made you second guess yourself all the same. Perhaps the Eddie in your dreams should be the one you focused on.

The thought of Dream Eddie brought on a searing heat that warned your neck and face. If there was even a chance that Eddie in the real world could have the same effect on you that Dream Eddie did, you had to go for it.

Regaining your confidence, you put on a sly smile. “Are you busy tonight?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you and tilted his head. “Why?”

Feigning innocence, you shrugged meekly. “Why don’t you invite me over and find out.”

After a few more beats of confusion, something seemed to click in Eddie’s brain as you visibly watched his suspicion turn to understanding. He nodded and snapped his fingers before pointing it at you like a gun. “Right. Forest Hills at nine o’clock?”

All the tension you were carrying in your shoulders melted away. Smiling brightly, you agreed.

——

Nine o’clock seemed to take forever. You spent the time at home pulling out all the stops to make sure that you were ready and presentable. Using the best smelling shampoo and body wash, taking the time to contort in the tub for optimal body hair removal—no matter how much you hated shaving—teeth and tongue scraped to gleam, perfumed body lotion, the only lacy set of bra and panties you owned, and just a small amount of makeup to keep everything smooth.

It had been a while since you had sex, giving up on high school boys completely. The few experiences you had were less than satisfactory, so you decided that getting yourself off was much less of a hassle than dealing with the idiots at school.

Like many of the girls at Hawkins high, you had given your virginity to Steve Harrington. He was sweet, gentle, and took his time opening you up with his fingers before pushing in to you. It was arguably the best night of your life. An orgasm that was provided by someone other than yourself, the giggling, nose kisses, and night full of whispers made you think you were right to choose Steve for your first time. However, as soon as the sun came up, he forgot all about you and moved on to his next conquest.

Things only went downhill from there.

You could feel bile rising in your throat from remembering the way Tommy H flopped around on top of you like he was having a seizure. With all his talk about how great he was in the sack, you were severely disappointed. You couldn’t wait for it to be over with so you could go home and take care of yourself properly. Thankfully, in less than three minutes your prayer was answered.

Then there was Billy Hargrove. He knew how to use his cock, but he was a selfish lover. He didn’t take the time to make sure you were satisfied, and once he was done, that was it. You were to shut up and leave. He made you cum on occasion, but it turned into a bizarre fight because you didn’t ask his permission to do so. You weren’t desperate enough to beg for anything, and for Billy to expect you to beg him to cum when you could achieve it without him…well. Let’s just say you didn’t go back when he brought it up again.

Steve was great but used you. Tommy was terrible and had bad breath. Billy was capable of satisfying you but chose not to. You hoped Eddie would be different.

In your dreams, his attitude varied. Sometimes it was hot and rough, other times it was slow and sensual, and sometimes it was just him worshiping you with words.

As much as you wanted that to be the truth, you were afraid that Eddie in the flesh would disappoint you. Just like the others.

But you tried not to think about it. Instead, you focused on recreating the images your imagination conjured up both in sleep and waking hours. Recalling the way his lips felt on yours. The sting of your scalp when he pulled your hair. The sweet words he’d coo after he made you see stars.

The permanent ache in your belly only intensified the longer you dwelled on your past visions. Before you were even at his place your body was scorching from the inside out, cunt drenched and throbbing, and breathing erratic.

Arousal quickly faded into nervousness as you parked your car next to the familiar van, but you tried to bully it back by taking a few calming breaths before going for gold and knocking on the door.

All that could be heard from the other side was various banging and swearing before the door launched open to reveal Eddie looking quite frazzled.

He held up a few crushed beer cans in his hand and gave a weak smile. “Sorry. Was trying to clean up a bit. Maid took the week off.”

You gave him a small smile. “That’s okay. Can I come in?”

Eddie moved out of the way and bowed low at the waist. “Of course. Castle Munson is yours.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that display as you walked past him. You’d seen him bow his head to girls at school who either ignored his existence completely or scowled at him, but to be on the receiving end of his chivalry was cute.

His castle was anything but. The trailer was small, very cluttered, and was certainly the home to chain smokers as every countertop had a full ashtray on it. Still, it was oddly comforting with the soft glow of the living room lamp, the rows and rows of mugs lining the walls and the collection of baseball caps to compliment them.

You followed him into the tiny kitchen area. “Do you live here alone?” you asked curiously, taking a closer look at the Garfield mug on the counter.

“Uh--no,” Eddie answered, stuffing his hand in the full trash can to stop the pile from overflowing. “My uncle lives here too but he works overnight at the plant.”

Your heart soared at the idea of having the place to yourself for the evening. “So no one will be home tonight?”

“Nope,” he answered, turning his attention to the fridge. “Can I get you a water? Or beer? I think I have some Kool-aid in here if you want that.”

You shook your head, forgetting he couldn’t see you with his face in the depths of the fridge. Perhaps beer would be a good idea to calm your nerves a bit, but then again, you didn’t want to have horrid breath for this.

“No. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Right,” Eddie mumbled. He withdrew from the fridge and clapped his hands together. “So. What can I get you? I’m out of shrooms, but I have a couple of tabs and some weed.”

“Huh?” you questioned, staring at him with confusion.

Eddie looked equally unsure. “That’s what you’re here for, right? Weed?”

You clenched your eyes shut when you realized what he meant. He didn’t exactly pick up what you were putting down earlier.

Maybe it would be better to accept a beer and a joint. Perhaps get to know him better before pouncing on him like a lioness in heat. But the yearning in the core of your belly wasn’t willing to wait.

“Um, no,” you answered awkwardly. You let out a sharp exhale before looking at him again. “I’m here for you.”

He raised his brows. “Me?”

Was there a way to convey this without sounding like a whore? How were you supposed to tell him you wanted to fuck when clearly the thought never crossed his mind?

You supposed you could show him. You took a few steps to close the distance between you, inhaling the scent of him. True, the smell of cigarettes and weed clung to him, but so did the aroma of Old Spice, cologne, and something you could only describe as man. And boy was it intoxicating in the most alluring way to breathe in.

You placed your hands on his leather clad biceps--which were almost heaven to finally touch after weeks of staring--and stood atop the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Grabbing you by the elbows, he gently pushed you back far enough to be able to look at you.

“Hey, if you don’t have any money, it’s fine. I can just smoke you out,” he frowned. “You don’t have to do any of that.”

No wonder it took him three tries to pass senior year. The guy was really dense. What was it going to take for him to realize you were here to get your back blown out?

Huffing with mild irritation, you leaned away from him and seized the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it carelessly elsewhere.

Eddie’s brown eyes nearly bulged out of his skull as they stared at your lace covered tits. If you weren’t so turned on, you would have laughed at the way his mouth hung open--face frozen in shock. It didn’t even look like he was blinking. Or even breathing for that matter.

“I told you. I came here for you.”

Taking his stunned silence as an opportunity, you crowded his space once again and finally got to live out one of your fantasies: pushing your hands beneath his shirt and feeling the muscles of his abdomen. There were some there, but there was also a little bit of pudge too right at his navel. Lightly gliding your hands upward towards his chest, you leaned to place a small kiss on the side of his throat.

“I’ve had dreams about you,” you said in the best seductive tone you could muster, placing another kiss just a few inches higher on his neck.

His Adam's apple bobbed beneath your lips. “Hua-uhh,” Eddie stammered. “What kind of dreams?”

You smiled to yourself at the crack in his voice. “Oh, I think you know what kind.” You pressed your body flush against his, relishing in the warmth of him and internally cheering at the stiff bulge pressed against your stomach.

Eddie chuckled nervously, his voice much higher than before. “Y-yeah I think I have an idea. Wha--” he cleared his throat in an effort to return his tone to a normal octave. “What happens in them?”

You slid your hands towards his belt loops, hooking your fingers in them and steering him the short way to the couch as you answered. “Which one do you wanna know about? There’s been quite a few. I could tell you about them or—“ you gently pushed off Eddie’s leather jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall before nudging him down onto the lumpy couch. “—I could show you.”

All the air in Eddie’s lungs came out in a huff when he collapsed onto the sofa. Wide eyed he asked, “Is this—is this really happening?”

Taking your time to settle on your knees between his legs, you outlined the tattoo on his forearm, having never noticed it there before. Eddie Munson just became ten times hotter.

“Really happening,” you smirked.

Eddie was nearly panting through his wide open mouth as he watched you undo his belt, button and zipper. The quiet gasps of “h-oh shit” that escaped him only made your confidence grow.

“Cute,” you teased, snapping the elastic waistband of his navy bullfrog boxers.

He may have said something about how they were his lucky pair, but you weren’t listening. The anatomy beneath them was what you were here for, and you couldn’t wait to see it. Wasting not another second, you instructed Eddie to lift his hips and yanked the heavy black denim and boxers to his knees.

Cock slapping against his belly, sticky drops dribbled from the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of it twitching against him in anticipation. It was all you could have hoped for. Thick, long, curved just a little to the right, and with a glistening pink tip—Eddie’s cock was gorgeous.

“Good for you, Munson,” you praised mischievously. It took no time wrapping your hand around the length of him. Heavy, silky smooth, and hot, you gave into the urge and licked a pressured stripe on the underside of his shaft, tracing the protruding vein.

The strangled chortle that emitted from the back of Eddie’s throat only fueled your desire. You could feel your own arousal pooling, more than likely already seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear with how worked up you made yourself earlier. Lifting yourself higher on your knees, you licked the slick slit and relished the salty taste of him before enveloping the entirety of the head with your lips.

Maybe it was weird to be so turned on when giving a blowjob—other girls talked about it like it was a chore and you hated having to do it to Billy. But feeling Eddie’s hairy thighs tremble under your palms, seeing his chest heave as breathy whimpers escaped him, watching his mouth hang open in disbelief with his cheeks sporting a ruddy complexion was enough to make your cunt throb.

Hollowing your cheeks, you lowered your mouth as far as you could without gagging, and pulled back up again to swirl your tongue around the mushroom tip with your fist following close behind.

Eddie huffed and puffed, trying to stutter out half syllables as he writhed in your grasp. Unsure of what to do with his hands, his fingers flexed against the cushions beneath them. He struggled to keep his eyes open—dark lashes fluttering against his pink cheeks with every stroke.

God he was beautiful like this. Why you never thought of him before was a true mystery. Lips pink and plump, strong nose, and eyelashes so long you’d kill for them. Now that you’d seen him blissed out from something you were doing for him—to him—you couldn’t imagine ever going back to ignoring him.

Drunk from the power you clearly had over him and determined to make a lasting impression so this could happen again, you bobbed your head lower and lower, relishing in the smooth glide of his cock against your tongue, opening the back of your throat to accommodate him until you were close enough to bury your nose against the thick dark curls at the base of him.

But Eddie was finally able to gasp out a single word. “S-Stop!”

All the confidence drained from you when you peered at him through your lashes. Eddie panted heavily with his brown eyes wide and glossy, looking as if her were about to cry.

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you frowned with his dick twitching against your chin. “Is it not good—?”

He quickly shook his head. “Too good. So good I’m gonna bust in two seconds if you don’t slow down,” he answered breathlessly. “Or if you keep looking at me like that. Jesus Christ.”

Your frown deepened at his words. Too busy worrying about your pleasure from devouring him, you didn’t give much thought about what he wanted from this, thinking getting blown was reward enough in itself.

Embarrassed by your selfishness, you decided to make it right.

Ignoring the popping in your knees, you lifted yourself from the carpet to straddle Eddie’s lap, taking extra care to press your clothed core right against his aching cock.

Up close like this you were able to admire his features. Trace his bottom lip with your thumb, the curve of his scratchy jaw. Memorize the pattern of light freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. You outlined that too with the pass of your fingertips, along with the ridge of his deep set Cupid’s bow.

“Sorry,” you said softly, gently swiping the curtain of black bangs to expose his pale forehead.

Eddie blinked. “Huh?”

“For being greedy,” you answered simply.

He chuckled weakly. The corner of his lip ticked in a sideways grin, allowing for a dimple to dent his cheek as you caressed it. “Promise it’s alright, Sweetheart. Just want it to last longer than ten seconds.”

You slowly rocked your hips, letting the sopping cotton of your underwear drag against the hard length pressing so deliciously against you. A sigh rushed out of his parted lips when you moved his hands from the couch cushions and slid them up your body until they rested against the curve of your lace covered breasts.

The audible gulp emitting from his throat made you giggle, but it quickly faded into silence when he kept his hands still. No kneading, squeezing, or massaging. You ceased the roll of your hips.

“You can touch me if you want,” you offered.

Eddie stared at his unmoving hands and licked his lips before his eyes flickered up to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

It was your turn to gape at him. It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t even kissed him during your lust fueled frenzy. Granting permission with a wordless nod of your head, letting him initiate just as he asked.

From your observations of Eddie over the last few weeks, timid is not the word you would use to describe him. However, as his lips gently pressed against yours, that’s all you could think of.

The kiss wasn’t bad, it was just…slow. Gentle. Timid. He made no effort to deepen it--deciding that a few chicken pecks were satisfactory. Eddie also kept his hands frozen on your chest, much to your displeasure.

Trying to relay the urgency of your desire, you took over. Crashing your lips against his, you tried to set the pace. But Eddie couldn’t keep up. He was clumsy, had a little too much spit, and nearly jumped out of his skin when you slid the tip of your tongue against his.

Frustrated, you pulled away from him.

“Are you okay?” you snapped.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

You didn’t want to crush his spirit and say it was disappointing, but you also wanted more. “You’re just--you’re acting like you’ve never done this before.”

His cheeks deepened into a harsh maroon. “I haven’t.”

Your hands dropped from his face as you stared at him incredulously. “Haven’t what?”

“This!” Eddie shrieked with frustration. He removed his hands from your tits to pull his boxers over his exposed dick. “I haven’t had a chick dream about me! Or storm into my house with her tits out! Or blow me! Or even--”

The realization hit you like a bag of bricks. Shocked, you blurted, “Oh, my god. You’re a virgin.”

Eddie seized his speech mid rant--mouth snapping shut like a gator’s.

This couldn’t be. Eddie? Eddie Munson? He’d been in high school forever and he never had a girlfriend? Not once? The guy who was like nineteen or twenty? Old enough to go to bars and clubs and--didn’t he play in a band? No girls hung around after the show to try and sleep with the band? Especially now that you’ve seen what he was hiding in those tight black jeans of his.

“How?” you gasped, completely by accident.

Frustrated and embarrassed, Eddie snapped. “It just never happened, okay? No one wants to fuck the freak! Except you, I guess,” he added hastily. “But I think I just ruined that.”

True, you never saw a girl hanging around Eddie at school, but you thought it was just because he was into girls outside of the high school scope. His own age, from bars, from people he knew from earlier years at Hawkins High. With how Eddie carried himself--so sure and in your face--the thought didn’t occur to you that he’d never done anything before.

Your shoulders sagged as the full weight of disappointment sank in. If Eddie was a virgin, he wouldn’t have any idea on how to give you what you wanted. Weeks of dreaming about him were just that--The opposite of reality. Fantasies. Falsehood. The type of rush and satisfaction you got from your dreams would not be received here today, and that was almost devastating. Despite his ignorance of the female body, he probably didn’t want you--someone who barely spoke to him before today--to be the one to champion his first time.

You also felt stupid. So fucking stupid for having built up this guy in your head, only to be so very wrong about him. For as big and bad as Eddie Munson tried to make himself, he was currently the epitome of one of Madonna’s greatest hits.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie grumbled bitterly. “Trust me, no one is more disappointed than I am about it.”

Swallowing harshly, you nodded and tried to smile the ache away. “It’s okay. I’m just surprised. But um--I should probably get going--”

Eddie’s face fell into panic. “No!” he shouted loudly, making you jump at the volume. “I mean--you don’t have to go. We can still do whatever you want. If you want.”

Did you still want to? There was the matter of the soreness in your belly that would only get worse the longer you were left unsatisfied, but you didn’t really have the patience for Eddie to try and figure out how to touch you.

You tried to play it off politely. “Don’t you want your first time to be with someone you care about? I wouldn’t want to take that from--”

“Take it!” Eddie interrupted. “Swear, you’ll be making both of our dreams come true.”

It was difficult to argue with that. You were already here with nothing else to do. And after the hell you went through to make yourself presentable for him? You deserved at least something. The image you curated of him was already shattered to bits. Could any further harm be done at this point?

Eddie took the silence of your deliberation as an opportunity to plead his case. Sliding his large hands up your back, he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your collarbone.

“You could teach me,” he said softly before moving his mouth to attend to the curve of your breast. “Show me what you like.”

Now there was an idea. None of the guys you had been with before were virgins, but they also weren’t very knowledgeable on what it took to please you. With Eddie not having any prior experience, it would be easier to get him to do what you needed so you could both enjoy it, instead of him getting off and you having to take care of yourself after anyway.

Twisting your arm behind your back, you unhooked your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders. “Only if you promise not to use what I show you on anyone else.”

Eddie licked his lips as he watched the lace drop to fully reveal your breasts. “Wouldn’t dare.” Tentatively, as if he was scared to move too fast, Eddie cupped the soft flesh and lifted.

“They’re heavy,” he said with surprise.

You chuckled. “They can be.” Placing your hands over his, you guided him where you wanted him, and told him to squeeze.

“That doesn’t hurt?” he asked curiously.

You shook your head. “You’re not gonna hurt me, Eddie. Just…do what you want, and I’ll let you know if I don’t like it.”

“What if you do like it?”

Your patience was already thinning. “You’ll know.”

There it was again. That tantalizing tongue of his poking out of the side of his mouth as he finally gave in.

Gripping his shoulders for stability, your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of him kneading your chest. Experimenting with pressure, noting that your breath hitched when he held you a little firmer—the way your head tilted back when he brushed his palms over the pebbled flesh of your nipples. His hands felt just as good as you hoped they would. Maybe even better, as they were rougher than you imagined. The harsh texture in contrast to your smooth skin fueled the fire brewing between your legs. The contented sigh that fell from your parted lips when he rolled them between his fingers. Pinching, tugging, sometimes too hard but he paid attention to your direction, never making the same mistake twice.

When his mouth enveloped the hardened nub, you felt all the breath leave your lungs in a rapid huff as you lurched forward involuntarily from the pulse of pleasure coursing through you.

No one had done that to you before. The most attention your boobs ever got was clumsy groping and a sloppy wet kiss to the tops. Never had anyone swirled their tongue over your nipples, and suddenly you felt very cheated.

“Keep doing that,” you breathed, finally living out another fantasy of threading your finger through his hair at the base of his neck to hold him close. It was softer than it looked--thicker and lush. You wondered what it would feel like tickling the inside of your thighs.

Eddie changed course, going from languid swirls to quick flicks that sent jolts of need through your body. Your hips started to rock on their own accord, gliding your sopping cunt over his cock.

Eddie groaned loudly—the vibrations making you whimper. He dropped his hands from your breasts, ignoring the meek whine of protest from you at the loss of contact, and instead focused on gripping the bare fat of your ass beneath your skirt to move you how he wanted—pulled down flush against him and faster. Your hips sped up to meet his pace, relishing in the way the head of his cock bumped your clit with each pass.

He pulled off of your breast with your nipple gently clenched between his teeth, releasing it with a primal growl. You hoped he would show the same attention to the other side, but instead he directed his mouth to the column of your throat--sucking lightly, nipping and licking his way around.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. “Makin such pretty noises for me.”

“Y-you can only leave marks--” you began breathlessly, interrupted by a mouth escaping your lips at the feel of him finding that sweet spot at the juncture of your neck. “--if I can mark you.”

Eddie’s response was indecipherable between the grunt that emitted from him, the way his lips latched onto the soft skin of your neck, and whatever he was trying to mumble. The sting of the suction on your throat paired with the vibrations of his failed attempt at speech was becoming too much.

“You’re soaking me, baby,” he moaned. “Feels so fucking good.”

Grip tightening on your ass, his hips bucked into you, causing shockwaves to roll through the tendrils of your nerves. Finally, the ache you’d been suffering from for weeks was going to be cured. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to subsiding the dull burn in the pit of your stomach with each rhythmic roll of your hips against his. Abdominal muscles fluttering, hole clenching around nothing, blood like molten lava through your veins, moaning and panting with abandon--If he felt this good without even being inside you, you couldn’t wait to find out what like it felt like to be filled with him.

You could just reach down, yank your ruined underwear to the side and slide down the length of him, but you couldn’t stop your movements long enough to do so. You were climbing to your peak and fast.

But Eddie beat you to it. As soon as you opened your mouth to tell him you were on the precipice of seeing stars, Eddie gave one--two more rough thrusts as he let out an animalistic growl in the crook of your neck.

Panic set in. “No. No!” you whined to yourself, trying not to lose impending orgasm by continuing to ride him relentlessly, but it was too late. The tingle had already faded too far to get back without having to start all over.

Disappointed, you closed your eyes to prevent tears of frustration from falling and laid your head atop his in defeat.

Eddie didn’t move from your neck. “Goddamn it! I’m sorry,” he panted. “I’m so fucking sorry. You just--it felt so good and I--fuck!”

“It’s okay,” you replied flatly. If you weren’t mere seconds from cumming your brains out, it would have been hot. Getting him so worked up that he couldn’t control himself? Cumming in his frog underwear while he clutched onto for dear life? Literally the subject of your dreams. But with how sore your gut was getting, it was almost cruel to have lost your well earned orgasm so close to the finish line.

Eddie pulled away from you, looking quite dejected with bits of your hair stuck to his wet lips. “It’s not,” he said breathlessly. “Let me make it up to you. Please? I can still make you feel good. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be good to go.”

He looked so pitiful. Big brown eyes shining at you. Lips pouty. Chest heaving as he pleaded for another chance.

How could you say no to that face? To the offer, really. None of the others would have ever cared that you didn’t get yours, if they even noticed at all.

“Okay,” you answered with a nod. “But, can we go to your room?”

“Yes!” Eddie exclaimed with relief. “Yeah. Uh, let me just--give me a few minutes to clean it up a little.”

You untangled yourself from him and stood to your feet, embarrassed by the stickiness of your thighs. You’d never gotten that wet before, not even by yourself.

“Holy shit!” Eddie laughed, staring at his lap.

You were instantly mortified by the sight. Eddie wasn’t joking--you did soak him. Between your fluids and his, the navy blue boxers were saturated.

Panic fluttered in your chest. He probably thought it was gross. “Sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“Sorry?” Eddie repeated. “Sorry for what? This is--this is fucking hot. I mean, not mine so much, but holy shit.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Eddie was downright…beaming. Eyes kissing in the corners from how large his toothy grin was as he admired your joint handiwork. “You don’t think it’s gross?”

Eddie wiggled his brows. “Lucky boxers just got luckier.”

Huh. That was new too. Mostly that aspect of your body was treated as something to be ashamed of.

“Your room?” you prodded gently.

“Oh! Right.” Eddie pulled his jeans up from his thighs before standing, holding them up to his hips in lieu of buckling them. “Don’t leave!” he shouted as he sprinted down the short hallway.

You chuckled to yourself as he disappeared from sight. Who would have thought Eddie Munson was so…dorky? The image he projected at school and the one you conjured in your head weren’t him at all--Brash, tough, something to be feared or avoided, possibly demented. What a crock. He was goofy. Maybe even sweet. And certainly easier on the eyes than you gave him credit for.

You took the opportunity to find your shirt from the living room floor and try to locate your bra that you threw from the kitchen while Eddie did…whatever he was doing in there. More various banging and swearing emitted from the depths of the hallway that made it sound like he was trying to tear the place down instead of clean it up.

At a closer look of the walls within the Munson home, more than hats and mugs stood out to you. A couple of photos bleached by the sun were tacked to the sheet rock. One showed a large older woman with glasses the size of the moon atop her nose sitting at a wooden table with a handful of cards, a cigarette burning between her fingers, and an expression that you’d bet your life was caused by a winning hand at whatever game she was playing. Another with two little boys in matching coveralls outside a wired fence, both grimacing and squinting to protect themselves from the bright light of the sun. The one next to it was of a girl—who couldn't be older than seventeen—holding a baby with a head full of wild curls, bright wide eyes, grinning proudly to show the two tiny teeth cutting above his gums.

“I know that face,” you grinned, flattening the curled photo against the wall for a better look.

Eddie poked his head through the doorframe. “Did you say something?”

You tapped the picture and took great joy in watching his cheeks pinken at the realization of what you were looking at.

“So you were always cute,” you replied happily.

The color of Eddie’s face rivaled that of a tomato. Watching him become flustered was probably your new favorite thing to do to him. Mean and scary Munson blushing and curling inwards at a compliment? Interesting, indeed.

He cleared his throat and pointed his thumb towards his room. “Do you wanna—?”

Absolutely you did. You followed him with a nod into the small bedroom and took it all in. This was certainly what you expected his room to look like, though if this was the clean version you wondered what it looked like a few minutes ago. He did make the bed at least. Posters and drawings that looked like they were cataloged straight from hell lined the walls. Monsters, demons, skeletons, witches—some printed, painted, and hand drawn. The dresser and desk were covered with stuff. Tools, magazines, ashtrays, were those bullet shells? And a light blue box of condoms topped with a thin layer of dust.

You inspected the obviously unopened box and held back giggles. “Don’t Think we should use these. They expired in September of 1982.”

Horrified, Eddie snatched the package from your hand and stammered, “My uncle—when I started high school.” He gulped, comically tossing the offending material over his shoulder into the abyss. “He thinks he’s funny.”

His attention immediately went to your still bare chest, eyes boring into it like he could see the future through your tits. Suddenly feeling quite awkward and self conscious, you crossed your arms to hide yourself from him, unsure of what to do next.

“You’re pretty overdressed,” you pointed out. While you were only down to stringy lace underwear and a black skirt, Eddie wasn’t missing any clothing.

Breaking from his trance, Eddie scrambled fast as lightning to pull his shirt over his head, accidentally snagging a fistful of his hair along with it causing him to hiss. It was so difficult not to laugh, watching him scamper to free himself of his jeans, but when he stood to his full height in nothing but his ruined boxer shorts, you took a step closer to admire his body.

He was certainly taller than you—your eyes only meeting the middle of his tattooed chest. There was more ink there too. A horrible looking skull. A spider. A dagger with some sort of weird writing on it. But it was all so fitting of him. The black dye complimented his alabaster skin nicely.

As did the shadow of muscles on his abdomen. He was a lot more built than you thought he was under those layers of leather and denim. He wasn’t big enough for the football team, but he would probably do well in soccer with those long legs of his.

Toying with the guitar pick that dangled from his necklace, you looked up at him from your lashes. “You should probably kiss me.”

Eddie swallowed hard at the suggestion, making you grin a little at how nervous he still seemed to be despite being in nothing but his underwear.

But he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. The way his big brown eyes were raking over you, like he could see through your very soul, made you shrink a little under the strength of his gaze. But he had a sweet smile stretched across his lips--the kind that let his dimples dent his cheeks.

“You really are good lookin’,” you blurted.

Eddie chuckled softly, gently moving the loose strands of hair out of your face with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.” He moved his hand to caress your cheek, the other delicately tracing up the back of your arms with only the pads of your fingertips, sending shivers down your spine at the featherlight touch.

This kind of attention was something new. Something you hadn’t experienced before except for maybe with Steve, but the betrayal you felt after he ignored you once he got what he wanted left you bitter. Other experiences weren’t as…intimate. Gentle. Soothing, even. And you felt a tad bit guilty for coming on to Eddie so strongly, knowing full well what it was like to only be used for your body.

This was his first time doing anything ever with a girl. And while yes, you were desperate to get some sort of relief from the horrible tension in your stomach, you were enjoying Eddie’s sincerity. That’s what it had to be, right? He wasn’t like Steve with an ulterior motive--Eddie knew he was going to have you. And he decided to be sweet anyway.

You took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his slim waist, holding him close in a tight hug. He was so warm. Radiating heat that you gladly absorbed, taking in a breath as you pressed your cheek against his sternum. “You’re not what I thought you’d be like,” you admitted shamelessly.

Eddie returned the gesture, pressing your bare chest into his as close as he could--scratchy palms sliding up and down your back--occasionally clutching the soft curves. “And what’s that? Mean and scary?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach that came to life when he kissed the crown of your head. “I’d thought you’d be…rough. Maybe a little mean. Domineering.”

With your face buried in his torso, you didn’t see Eddie frown or furrow his brows. “Is that what you like?”

You took some time to think before answering. “I don’t know what I like, Eddie. No one’s ever asked,” you sighed. And it was true. With your limited encounters, you didn’t have good concrete data on what did it for you. Billy was what you accused Eddie of being, and you could count on one hand the amount of times you actually enjoyed yourself, only to be reprimanded for it later.

Eddie’s grip tightened, and he peppered a few more kisses atop your head, temples, and the edge of your hairline. Each one making your heart flutter faster and the heat in your cheeks rise. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I know what I liked in my dreams,” you added thoughtfully. “We could always give it a shot. If you want to, I mean.”

Eddie pulled away just enough to lock eyes with you--tilting your head up further with the knuckle of his index finger. “I’d sure as shit love to, but you gotta know, I’m not him. Whoever you’ve been dreaming about. I mean, I already disappointed you with being--you know.” Eddie gulped, lightly nibbling at the edge of his bottom lip.

You placed a quick peck onto the corner of his mouth, and another on the other side. “I know. You don’t have to be anyone or anything. Just you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you think otherwise.”

Eddie nodded, the edge of his lip ticking up into a fragment of a smile. “Still want me then? I’ll still die a very happy man if you change your mind.”

“Oh, I still want you, Eddie Munson,” you chuckled heartily.

“Well then,” Eddie grinned, removing your hands from behind his back and bringing your knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “You shall have me.”

You couldn’t stop giggling. Giggling for god’s sake. It was so cheesy. Such a bad line. If anyone else had said it, you probably would have snorted and rolled your eyes. But Eddie? Something about him made it work--the way his eyes practically sparkled or the fact that he just kissed the tops of your hands like some Victorian Royal. Why hadn’t you paid any attention to him before? You could almost kick yourself for believing what everyone else said about him instead of finding out for yourself. But you were here now, and didn’t want to waste anymore time. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face down to be able to catch him in a kiss.

This time was better. Instead of rushing him, you let him set the pace--take the lead--let him be the one to decide if and when he wanted to deepen the kiss. You followed his movements, moving with him and trying to give pointers with your own body language when things got a little…lost. The longer it went, the more his confidence grew. Languid licks into your mouth turned into more adventurous tugging at your bottom lip. And before long, you were on the bed with Eddie hovering over you--skirt and underwear cast aside somewhere in the chaos of his room.

Body practically searing, you held your breath as Eddie traced his fingertips over the soft expanse of your belly. Normally self consciousness of how you looked would cloud your mind with doubt—stretch marks, the size and shape of your abdomen—but with how Eddie gazed at you with a slack jaw and brown eyes almost pleading, you forgot to think too much about it.

“Can I touch you?” he asked carefully, rubbing his large palm against your stomach.

Though you were glad Eddie cared enough to ask permission, you were becoming increasingly impatient as lust clouded your mind. “I might kill you if you don’t,” you answered with a huff.

Eddie licked his lips and spared a glance between your legs. You let your knee drop further, inviting him to explore. He slid his palm down to slide his fingers along your sticky slit. A sigh of relief rushed from your lips at the contact, and your hips instinctively followed his fingers for more.

His eyes clenched shut as he groaned through parted lips. “Oh, fuck. You’re so wet.”

“It’s cause of you,” you praised, threading your fingers in his hair and holding his forehead to yours once again. “You did this to me.”

Eddie audibly gulped, unable to both carry on a conversation and focus on his fingers at the same time. He was being too delicate for your liking, barely able to feel the brush of his fingertips. Desperate to help, you put your hand over his, showing him how you wanted to be touched.

“Like this,” you said, adding more pressure against his middle finger as he traced the path from your entrance to your clit, breath hitching at the tingling sensation when he reached it.

“And just--” your pressed his fingers harder against you, showing him just how you liked to be rubbed. You tried to tell him he could switch it up between small circles or figure eights, but the only thing that came out of you were little squeaks of appreciation. The callus of his fingertips against the delicate flesh there was hypnotizing to say the least.

“That’s good?” he questioned with a furrowed brow.

The circular ministrations he applied to your clit kept you from doing anything other than nod dumbly. But that seemed to be acceptable to Eddie, whose lips twisted into a lopsided grin.

You moved your grasp from his hand to find purchase on his forearm instead. His half lidded eyes stayed focused on yours. “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he admitted.

You wanted to tell him you were getting a hell of a lot out of it too, but again, words failed you. Instead, you settled for a breathy “Mhm” and let yourself get lost in his touch.

Within a few minutes, Eddie got more spontaneous. He moved his attention back down to your hole, keeping the heel of his palm right where you wanted. You were surprised when he teased your entrance with his finger without being prompted, but enjoyed the attention nonetheless. When you answered his raised brow with a nod, the delightful stretching around his thick finger paired with the friction on your sensitive button was nothing short of relief. You greedily took what he gave you, rocking your hips steadily to set the pace you wanted from him, and he happily obliged. Swiftly gliding his finger in and out with calculated compression against your clit.

“Yes,” you cooed with a heaving chest. “Jus-just like that.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, hot breath fanning against your face. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. Jesus Christ.”

He never took his eyes away from yours. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, but somehow this was far more intimate. Noses nudging against each other, lips barely brushing to breath in every whine he coaxed out of you. He was so gorgeous like this. Brown eyes dark and hazy, pouty lips open in a silent ‘O’ as his brow furrowed in concentration. He made pretty noises too, panting and groaning along with you like it felt just as good to him.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, grip tightening on his forearm. “Eddie, I need you.”

“‘M right here.”

Shaking your head, you moved your grasp from his arm to his cock. “Need you. Inside.”

All of his movements ceased. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Really? Like now?”

“Yes, now!” you whined.

“Right! Sorry! Just can’t--really can’t believe this is about to happen,” he babbled. He made quick work of getting rid of his boxers before adjusting himself properly. He was heavy, but in a way that brought you comfort as he draped his body over yours and caged your head between his forearms. Both breathing heavily from exhilaration, you took a second to revel in the moment.

“Holy shit!” he laughed.

Brushing the long waves behind his ear, you nodded and leaned up just enough to press a tender kiss to his plump lips.

Eddie couldn’t contain his excitement. He moved from your lips, you kissing all over your face before settling for sloppy opened mouth kisses dotting a path from your collarbone up to that mind numbing spot at the juncture of your neck. As soon as his teeth scraped against it, you squeezed his hips with your knees, the craving for him only intensifying. The feel of his breath on your neck, hair tickling your chin and cheek, the weight of his chest pressing against yours was all too dizzying.

“Need you,” you whimpered against his cheek. You dipped your hand between your bodies to grab his length and poise it at your entrance.

Eddie groaned at the desperation in your demand. Sliding the head of his cock between your drenched folds, the torture of him being so close was getting to be too much. Your body jolted with every bump of his cock against your swollen bud. You were getting impatient, and needed him to be inside already.

“Eddie, please,” you begged.

Breathing raggedly, Eddie obliged. He pushed himself in with you guiding him, emitting a groan of satisfaction that rumbled from the depths of his chest. Yours was just as loud as you felt him slide into you, walls stretching with that delicious bite to consume him completely.

As soon as he reached his end, a simultaneous breath of relief flowed between both of you. It was almost intoxicating being so full of him. It didn’t seem like you could feel anything else but him, both inside and out, and you were deliriously addicted to it. You tangled your fingers into the curls of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked him down to meet your lips and a hungry kiss. You wanted him to understand just how much you wanted him. Greedy, sloppy, and feverish—you put all your unbridled desire into curling your tongue around his, roughly nipping his bottom lip.

Breathing heavily, Eddie pulled away. “It’s okay?”

You nodded vigorously, almost begging him with the look in your eye to please give you what you wanted. “You can move.”

Inching back, the slow drag of his cock between your tight walls was enough to arch your back, already missing the feel of engulfing him completely. But when he snapped his hips forward in a powerful thrust, you couldn’t help the wanton moan that escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

You hummed in response, unable to formulate more of a reply than that. Even if he didn’t know what he was doing yet, being stuffed full of him was already a relief of its own.

He experimented with pace and tempo. It took some time for him to find a rhythm that was to your liking. You didn’t want to be too bossy or demanding, so you kept your queues limited to directing his hips with your hands—subtly maneuvering him until you found just the right motion that made your head flop back onto the pillows. It was his first time after all, and you didn’t want him to lose confidence with constant redirection.

“There!” you gasped once he found the spot you could never reach on your own. “Right there, baby.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grunted back. His hips rutted into yours in a steady, fast paced rhythm that kept you bucking into him for more. It was too good to not keep chasing the sensation of him gliding into you with each forceful pump of his cock.

Whatever he was hitting seemed to also be the off switch to your brain. All thoughts were erased from your mind in an instant, only leaving behind an instinctual need for more.

“Yeah,” you repeated, no longer in control of the words falling from your lips. “Yes. Yes!”

He dropped his chest down further, sweat slicked skin sliding against yours as he devoured your breathy moans in a heated kiss. You practically shouted at the new pressure of his pelvis grinding against your clit. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and locked your ankles together to keep him right where you wanted.

“So fucking perfect,” he said thrkigh gritted teeth. “Look so pretty taking my cock.”

Normally dirty talk would have been another eyeroll and possibly get rid of any sexual desire you had. But it was another thing Eddie would get away with. It could be because of how grateful he looked when he said it, or because he felt so good inside you that you couldn’t care less what came out of his mouth so long as he kept his hips moving.

You couldn’t get enough of him—wanting to feel every inch he had to offer. You held him close, letting your hands roam around the expanse of his back. Feeling every ripple his muscles that appeared with each contraction of his torso. The ridges of his ribs. The dent of the dimples on his lower back. The soft fat of his cute little ass that you pressed harder against you to get him as deep as you could.

And there it was. The perfect combination of pressure, speed, and depth.

“Eddie,” you gasped against him. “Eddie, don’t stop,” you pleaded breathlessly. “God, don’t stop.”

He drove into you harder, rewarded with the deafening sound of the headboard clashing against the wall. It was all getting to be too much for Eddie. The squealing of the old mattress springs, your cries of pleasure and death grip your hot, slick walls had on his cock, the bounce of your tits slapping against his chest all were causing his abdomen to contract in a way that could only mean one thing.

“I’m close,” he warned loudly, hips faltering a little.

Instinctively, your legs clenched tighter around him. You didn’t want to lose it. Not again. Not knowing it would just leave you frustrated and sore. “I’m almost there,” you announced. You weren’t far off, but not quite there yet. “Just a little bit more, baby, please.”

Eddie gritted his teeth and willed himself to hold it, losing both the battle and his mind with each high pitched mewl that escaped the back of your throat, each plea to not stop as you hurdled toward your release.

The hair on your arms started to stand on edge as the tingling goosebumps erupted across your naked skin. As soon as the tight coil in the pit of your belly ruptured, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, you lost your vision. Did you black out? You couldn’t say. The only thing you could hear was the roar of blood coursing through your ears. The only sensation you could identify as you convulsed around Eddie was the tingling that radiated through every nerve you possessed. The only word you could pronounce between wails and blissful sobs was “Eddie!”

Finally. After weeks of dreaming, you had Eddie Munson. After a year or so of solo ventures, you had an orgasm that wasn’t by your own hand. After years of bad to mediocre sex, you had the best climax of your life. At fucking last.

When your body went completely boneless and released Eddie from the vice grip your legs had on him, he abandoned his post and collapsed next to you in a breathless, wheezing heap.

You found Eddie’s sweaty hand and laid yours atop it. He flipped it over and interlaced his fingers with yours, clutching tightly. A nonverbal way to say “I’m still here.”

Minutes ticked by as you tried to float back into your body. Eddie’s popcorn ceiling was all you could focus on while your heart stopped pulsing so hard against your face to where you could physically see the rapid beating. And when your lungs stopped screaming for air, you turned your head to see Eddie still struggling to breathe.

“Shit, I gotta quit smoking,” Eddie wheezed.

You giggled and watched as he placed sloppy kiss on the back of your hand. “Glad you think that’s funny,” he jested.

“Want me to get you some water?” You offered, trying to supress your giggles at his red and sweaty face.

He shook his head. “I’ll get us both some in a second.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbow, your hand still tangled with his, and placed your chin on his chest. “Did you cum?”

“Oh hell yeah!” Eddie answered eagerly. “Hard not to when there’s a hot chick screaming my name.”

You hid your face by burying it in his chest, concerned about what you said and how you sounded.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie tapped the top of your head until you reluctantly looked at him. “So fucking hot. Wouldn’t change a thing. C’mere.”

You obliged, crawling up Eddie’s chest and meeting him in a smooch. A quick peck turned into two. Into three. Into one long kiss that stole what little breath you regained.

A sudden sense of dread settled in your stomach when you watched the way Eddie’s eyes raked over you. You could clearly see adoration. Appreciation. Glee. And while the look on his face should have brought you comfort and ease, anxiety took hold. Steve looked at you the same way, and that was a ruse. What if this turned out to be the same? Eddie could easily kick you to the curb now that he got what he wanted. It’s what all men did, isn’t it?

Nervously, you began to fiddle with one of the rings on his fingers. “You know, there’s one part of my dreams that I hope comes true.”

Eddie raised his brow. “Do tell.”

“You don’t forget me in the morning.”

Eddie snorted. “Sweetheart, I’m never going to forget you. Even when I’m old and in the corner of some nursing home, I’ll always remember this night.”

“That’s not what I mean, Eddie,” you said sadly. “I don’t want you to act like this never happened or ignore me.”

Eddie’s smile slid from his face, an expression of concern replacing it. “I’m not gonna do that. I’d invite you to spend the night—shit, the whole damn weekend—but I didn’t wanna scare you. Come off creepy or whatever.”

Your abdomen felt lighter. “You mean it?”

He kissed your forehead with a wet, loud smack. “I should have told you—when I said you have me, I meant it. I am your ever faithful, humble servant.”

Those damn giggles returned. “Then I suppose I’ll keep you, so long as you’ll have me.”

The rest of the night was better than you could have ever imagined. After a shower that left you covering in half a dozen hickies or more, You both talked about everything that came to mind, often getting sidetracked and falling down other rabbit holes of stories before looping back to the initial thought that started it all. Eddie let you see some of the most vulnerable parts of himself, and in turn, you showed him those parts of you. Before you knew it, the front door of the trailer slammed shut, announcing the arrival of the eldest Munson.

Eddie grabbed his alarm clock and showed you the angry red numbers.

You gasped at the time. “Six in the morning?! Eddie, we’ve been up all night!”

He tossed the clock carelessly onto his nightstand, not at all looking concerned when it crashed to the floor. “Stop being interesting for five minutes so we can go to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but snuggled closer into his chest. This is where you wanted to be. Warm, held, and adored.

Though he wasn’t at all what you dreamt of, Eddie Munson was indeed a dream come true.

————————————————————

Part 2 coming soon?

For more of my writing, I recommend my current series: Disjointed.

Tagging those who responded to the feelers post and those who have been putting up w me the entire writing process!

@eddiemunsonspantschain @pastel-pillows @stayonmars @lesservillain @2clones-1kamino @laura83stuff-blog-blog @katethetank @thruheavenandhighwater @hellfiredarling @mmunson86 @b-irock

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That man you see there, he is a 92 year old veteran from Norway, who was tortured by the nazis during world war II.  The upper picture is the picture of the “BOY London” logo, that’s so popular now days. Then, on the picture under, is a known symbol that were used under by the nazis in World War II.  Now you can all think of what you’re really wearing.

get ready to laugh and cringe until you implode - Dan Reacts to His Childhood Videos 👦📹

please help me out by reblogging this and as always i’ll follow a bunch of your blogs to say thanks 👍