There Aren't Enough Fucking Hours In The Day To Get Real Good At Chess, Violin, Piano, Singing, Crosswords,

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More Posts from Juggernort and Others

2 years ago

how utterly heartbreaking

rest in peace Lisa Marie Presley 🕊️⛪️🕊️

2 years ago

when you press me to your heart

dynamic: best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader

rating: G

contains: internalised mental health stigma, this one's for the readers with depression, shamelessly indulgent comfort and fluff, brief alcohol mentions, eddie being the only man allowed, reader being absolutely clueless about his feelings, two idiots yearning for each other

words: 1.9k

a/n: this is my first eddie fic and i am still a baby writer so pls be gentle! reader is a cheerleader, but not popular, but not not popular either. i’ve seen fics on here where reader is either the HBIC or an outsider who gets bullied, so here’s to all of us who aren’t really either of those. not proofread and no beta, we die like alexei

When You Press Me To Your Heart

You wake up with a start, feeling like an invisible monster has taken residence sitting on your chest. Something weighs heavily in your stomach as you curl into the pillow, unwilling to acknowledge the waking world or the sunlight outside. A strange ache surges through your chest as unwelcome thoughts begin to gather in your mind, dark clouds warning of an incoming storm. It gets like this more than you’d like to admit. How are you supposed to be the sunshine-filled, happy girl that everyone knows like this? How are you going to plaster a winning smile across your face and shout about victory and team spirit at practice this afternoon? Not that you’ll even be visible from your spot at the back of the formation, you suppose. You’ll spend the parts of the routine you weren’t in watching Chrissy Cunningham, an angel if there ever was one, spinning effortlessly in and out of basket tosses and laughing with the other girls. It’s not like anyone has ever been mean to you, exactly. You still go to the squad sleepovers and the drunken post-game parties with the basketball team. You’ve just… never felt like you were meant to be there. Like any second, someone will look up and realise you’re some kind of impostor, just pretending to be a pretty little doll and saying the things that girls like you should say.

Three sharp knocks jolt you out of your thoughts. Throwing your fuzzy robe and slippers on, you peek around the door to see the smirking face of Eddie Munson on your front steps. His hair is as fluffy and out of control as always, his jeans perfectly ripped at the knees. You want to bury your face into his signature leather jacket and denim vest and inhale him, like the clean smell of his body wash could fill your head instead. “Eddie,” you breathe with relief, swinging the door open fully to allow him in. “Good morning, princess! Did the lady of the house sleep well?” he asks with only a hint of irony, sweeping his gaze over your cosy attire. Your brows wrinkle into a frown. “I’m gonna caffeinate. Do you want something?” you mumble, your comfy slippers shuffling against the kitchen tiles. “Black coffee pleaaaase,” he draws out, batting his eyelashes with mock coyness like you haven’t been buying coffee just for him the past few years. You roll your eyes at him affectionately, fixing your drinks as if on autopilot like you do everyday. The weight inside you seems to ease a little as he slides into his usual spot at the dining table, drumming his ring-laden fingers against it to a beat you don’t know. It seems insanely fast and chaotic, but his familiar tapping is strangely comforting in its own way.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Your mouth twists into a funny expression. You would never lie to him exactly, but what on earth could you possibly say? I don’t know, Eddie. I get really sad sometimes for no good reason and then have to go act like a normal person for hours so people don’t think I’m some kind of emo freak. “Didn’t sleep well,” you murmur eventually, sticking your face into the entrance of your mug to avoid his knowing gaze. Eddie ceases his tapping against the table suddenly. You look up curiously. He hesitates for a moment, hand twitching outwards as if fighting some internal battle with himself. Finally he reaches across the table and wraps his hand around yours, the cold metal of his rings soothing against the heat of his palm. “You don’t have to,” Eddie begins cautiously, “but I hope you know you can talk to me, mmkay? About anything that’s on your mind.” You attempt to assuage him with a little closed-lip smile, but his grip on your hand tightens a little. “I want you to feel like you can just exist around me, y’know? Like you don’t have to please anyone except you.”

Tears suddenly flood your eyes and you blink them away angrily, swiping at your cheeks with embarrassment. He rises quickly from his chair and wraps his arms around you wordlessly, swaying you both from side to side comfortingly. You begin to cry in earnest against his shoulder. One of his hands comes up to rub soothing circles against the curve of your spine. You expect him to launch into some kind of funny monologue, or tell you everything will be okay, but he doesn’t. He just stands with you in the silence, holding you through your pain. In a way, you think this might be better than anything he could’ve said. After a few minutes of sniffling and wiping tears, your eyes begin to clear. Eddie releases you from the hug and presses his forehead into yours, clasping your tear-soaked hands with his between your bodies. “Thanks for letting me cry on you,” you chuckle with a watery voice. “Pfft,” he scoffs, waving a hand like it’s no big deal. “Better out than in.”

“What?!” you burst in surprised laughter. “That makes no sense.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie grins at you, his big brown eyes crinkled with mirth. “Now do you need a few minutes, or do you want to get going? I hear pajama chic is really hot right now.”

A smile spreads across your face, a real one this time. “Yeah, sure, I’ll just get changed and get ready really quick.” You press a soft kiss against his cheek and he collapses against the table, hand pressed dramatically against his face where you kissed him. Today he follows you up the stairs instead of waiting, skipping three at a time before face-planting like a starfish into your bed, rumpling your sheets like nobody’s business. You can’t find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad, so you wash your face and change quickly into your cheer uniform in the bathroom before coming to sit in front of your vanity. Your hand hovers over your makeup and hair products, suddenly unsure. He’s never watched you get ready before, and you can feel his curious gaze lighting up the back of your head. Comfortable silence hangs between you as you begin a minimal routine, only doing as much as your little energy allows. You spritz perfume and go to grab your backpack as you notice Eddie running a hand tenderly over your shelves. His eyes dart from an old trophy to a stack of birthday cards, seemingly committing the mundane of your myriad belongings to memory. “I like your room. It’s real pretty,” he muses softly, staring right at you. You smile at him again as he takes your hand and leads you back down the stairs.

As you shut the passenger door of his van and move to buckle your seatbelt, you pause for a moment, turning to face him.

“What’s on your mind, princess?”

You hum thoughtfully in response.

“I was thinking… can you walk me to class today?”

A grin spreads across his face as he shifts the gear stick and begins to reverse out of your driveway, arm thrown casually across the back of your seat.

“You sure about that? You wanna be associated with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” he warns dryly, drumming a new beat into the back of your headrest with his fingertips. He’s always been more concerned with your reputation than you are.

“I really don’t think anyone will care. Besides, it’s not like I’m Chrissy or Heather and people actually give a shit.”

“Alright,” he agrees eventually, a skeptical expression on his face. “Just don’t be surprised if your party invites start getting lost in the mail.”

You know he’s being silly, but something about that doesn’t sit right with you. A few moments pass as you stare out the window at the familiar trees and footpaths whizzing past.  “I don’t care if they do,” you blurt angrily all of a sudden. “It’s all bullshit anyway. We’ll all forget each other when we get to college.” Eddie’s eyebrows raise up and disappear behind his little fringe of frizzy hair.

“I see someone’s been paying attention to my cafeteria monologues. Biting social commentary is usually my thing.”

You tilt your head back against the seat and turn to face him. “Yeah, but… I just mean you’re the only one who actually, like, cares about me. You’ve seen me at my best and my worst and you’re still here. It’s easy to be friends with people when all you do is tumbling and getting drunk. What we have is – well it’s different.” He brakes a little harder than intended in his usual parking spot outside school. “It’s definitely… special,” Eddie replies tentatively, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “Listen, do you wanna come see me after the show on Saturday night? I know you’re not super into the shithole bar scene, but I think it could be nice to hang out.”

You nod quickly, trying not to read anything into it. “Yeah, sounds nice. Who else is coming?”

He grabs your hand suddenly and places it over his heart. “I’m dying here, angel. Help a guy out.”

You huff with laughter. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, y’know. Us. Hanging out. After the show.”

You side-eye him strangely. “Okay, yeah, I mean, we hang out every morning. I don’t see why not-”

“Like a date!” he bursts suddenly. Oh.

Oh.

Bravery rises up within you. You move your hand from his chest to cup his cheek where you’d kissed it earlier this morning. “That sounds really nice, Eddie,” you tell him softly. His big brown eyes meet yours and you think you might dissolve on the spot like sugar into tea. You make a point of hooking your arm around his as the two of you navigate the main hallway, attracting a couple of odd looks, but no one says anything about it. “See, I told you,” you point out, nudging him with your shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.” You both come to a stop outside your first class of the day.

“Well it’s a pretty big deal to me,” he responds with a toothy smile, guiding you backwards against a nearby locker and placing his hand by your head. Something deep within flutters delightfully at the way he cages you in. More of your classmates stream past the two of you, giving you a few more strange looks before greeting their friends like normal. You pull him into a hug suddenly. “You have a good day now,” you tell him sternly, smooshing your cheek into his chest. Eddie places a small kiss to the top of your head.

“Yes ma’am, I promise. Give Jason my love.”

You swat at him playfully, your heart considerably fuller than it had been when you woke up. The storm inside you might not ever really disappear forever, but you know that each one will pass eventually. And with each one, you know Eddie will be there.

7 months ago

i don't wanna be on my phone but i need my phone to figure out where i'm going on a walk and i need my phone to get to my audiobook and i need my phone to call my brother and i need my phone to get in touch with my friends which is fine but i don't want to be on my phone.

so i walk and that's fine and i'm using the phone in an okay-way in that moment. but sometimes i am using the phone like it is a weapon and that's stupid because no it's not. ive seen a weapon those are different this is a phone. but it's also in my hands until 2 AM and i haven't slept. at 4AM. i don't even mean to do it half the time i'm opening the phone to check the weather or to check my email which are things-that-are-okay but then i am in my phone for hours somehow, and i missed the dawn while i was on instagram. i don't even like instagram.

i don't want to be on my phone im not good at it so i try to put distance there but then i'm distancing myself from my friends. we meet up in person but my pictures are on my phone and the menu is on the phone (mon dieu) and so is venmo. so i need the phone to be with my friends and that's fine because it can record concerts and fun activities and i can take pictures of them smiling with pumpkins.

but i don't want to be on the phone because i go to look at the pictures of the pumpkins and i hate how i look in it but it's fine. and somewhere between the pumpkins and 3AM i have lost so much time. i don't even know what i'm doing on it only that i don't enjoy it any longer. it is this long blank void. forever and ever. restless like how mushrooms feel restless beside a dead body.

i don't want to be on my phone so i pick up the phone and i type into google things to do in my area and i save them to my phone and i'll need my phone to get to the tickets and i'll need my phone to book the appointment and i'll need it, i'll need it

2 years ago

The More You Give (Part I)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, fingering, nothing much else this chapter. Reader is 18+ and has been since before Eddie was interested. Reader is a virgin who has bad previous sexual experiences (not assault). Mentions of bullying and anxiety around this. Under 21s drinking alcohol. Eddie makes a little joke about getting reader high and taking advantage. Expect coming of age vibes the whole way through and as a result there is a fair amount of exposition this chapter. I’m trying to capture the particular way girls hurt each other. Non canon-compliant; the gate closed forever in 1985.

Word count | ~6,950

A/N | Some of you hate girly-girl reader, some of you hate not-like-other-girls reader. I am here to unite you against a common enemy; not-like-other-girly-girls reader. I really think I can bridge the gap with this one. I joke, but my point is Eddie Munson is capable of loving literally every person ever put on this planet, who dress all sorts of ways and are interested in all sorts of things. My y/n loves Rilke.

Reposting one more time and if it doesn’t work I’ll just cry.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦  

“Please!” May cries again, clasping her hands together like she’s begging. “I just know bringing something tonight will get me my chance with Liam. And the freak…freaks me out!”

"But I don’t get why that means I should be the one that meets him.”

"You know, I thought you kind of liked Eddie.”

Heather’s smile is innocent, her head tilting like she doesn’t know exactly how much you like Eddie. Like you hadn’t sat and told her every detail of your gooey, warm crush on him that one time she’d snuck a bottle of pink gin to your house.

"Wait, you like the freak?” May asks, her face a picture of confusion. You twist your hands in your skirt when she makes a noise of disgust. “Oh my god!” She says your name incredulously. “That is so gross!”

Your mouth opens, then closes with a bite to your lip. You want to defend yourself, defend Eddie, but find yourself toeing the ground with your shoe instead.

“If I’d known you might enjoy a little rendezvous with Eddie Munson in the woods, I’d have begged a little less,” May says, voice all amusement until she catches your hurt look and sighs. “Look, please just get the weed from him for me? You don’t even have to talk to him, but he really does scare me. Heather’s meeting Patrick, otherwise I would totally ask her.”

Another version of you, one that knew how to get into conflict and come out on top, would tell her that’s not true. Would list every time, at least every time you remember, that you’d done something like this for your friends. Risking trouble, going out of your way.

You take the $20 she has ready and tuck it into your purse.

“Hey,” May says, tone all innocent mocking. “Maybe you should try flirting with Munson. You might be able to get me a discount.”

Keep reading

2 years ago

TEAR YOU APART (Eddie Munson x Reader)

image

I want to hold you close / Soft breasts, beating heart  / As I whisper in your ear  / I want to fucking tear you apart

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Type: Multi-Part (1/?)

Word Count: 1.8K

Overview: He knew every single button to push to piss you off. He was arrogant, obnoxious, and impossible. You were cold, unavailable - a nightmare. So why couldn’t you keep your hands off each other?

Content: (Series) Slow-burn, enemies to lovers; smut (minors DNI or I’ll egg your house); no S4 context, but there may be some in the future. (Chapter) Mean!Eddie, dom!Eddie, brat!Reader, fem!Reader, v fingering, roughness/spanking, orgasm denial, a bit of degradation for zest. 

Chapter Summary: Hawkins’ Battle of the Bands was the only night of the year that the Hideout pulled a crowd. Your band was neck-and-neck with Corroded Coffin, and tensions were running high.

A/N: If you want additional parts, please let me know! I have an idea for several more chapters, but want to gauge interest first. Consider this a teaser.

Keep reading

2 years ago

swimming pools, eddie munson

[eddie munson x fem!reader]

warnings: swimming in underwear, almost kissing, getting chased by security, suggestive dialogue.

description: breaking into the school pool with eddie

Swimming Pools, Eddie Munson

"C'mon, let's go. It'll be fun" Eddie spoke while he leaned down to your height. After hours of studying for the upcoming math exam, he was in desperate need to have a little bit of fun with his favorite girl.

"No, it's breaking and entering" You shook your head, "besides, I don't have a swimsuit." Eddie rolled his eyes, "I won't look if it's that big of a deal" he gasped while grabbing your hand.

He slowly opened up the door and you both were engulfed by the smell of chlorine and muggy air. Eddie holding the door until it shut while he ran inside, kicking his shoes off and tugging his shirt from his body. "What if it's cold?" You asked, Eddie looking over to you while he unzipped his black ripped jeans and shimmied them down his legs. "Well, it'll be cold then" he shrugged his shoulders while taking off in a sprint. His playful scream echoed in the pool room when he jumped and tucked his legs to his chest.

You held your hands to your mouth while your backpack hung over the back of your shoulders, "Y/N, come on, hotshot. It's warm." he sung while you bit on your thumb nail. Seeing Eddie swim over to the edge, he held his hand up, "here, help me out then." You gasped loudly and took a step back, "Eddie, that's the oldest trick in the book!" You told him while he leaned back, licking his lips and shinning a wide smile that lit up his face.

"It's dark in here, I won't even be able to see you." He said, "I don't care about that. We don't have towels." Eddie rolled his eyes, "loosen up a bit, good girl." He tilted his head to the side, knowing every time he called you a good girl your cheeks blushed and you always tried to prove him different. "Or are you too good of a girl to join me?" He saw as your face fell, he knew it.

You walked over to where Eddie's clothes were laid and dropped your backpack. "There she is!" He shouted, clapping his hands. "Be quiet!" You shouted with a chuckle, kicking off your shoes. "No one's here" he whispered back. "We spent four hours, studying for a stupid math test I probably won't even pass. We deserve to have a lil' fun." He called out, swimming backwards while he looked to you again.

You grabbed your hair and pulled it to the side of your shoulder. His face fell once seeing you and oh boy was he wrong that he wouldn't be able to see you in the lighting. You looked up, seeing the diving board while Eddie furrowed his eyebrows while turning, eyes wide. He turned back around and you were gone, walking the distance to it.

"I've done swim since I was seven years old" you told Eddie who swam backwards from the diving board once you walked on the rugged surface with your bare feet. "I've done Javelin since I was in middle school..." Eddie couldn't believe he knew absolutely nothing about you who stood half naked in front of him. "And the relay race since freshman year." You pushed your hair back, looking at him. "So, if we get caught and I am no longer able to do any of those sports, I will come for you, Eddie Munson." Eddie tugged his lips into a smirk. "I'll allow it" he said while watching as you turned, facing your back to the pool while you jumped hard on the surface.

You flung your body back on the third jump, tucking your knee's to your chest and landed in a harsh splash in the water. "You liar, it's freezing!" You gasped while he swam over to you. "It gets warmer" he told you while you smiled, kicking your feet under you.

"I've also done gymnastics and cheer but quit because I hated the girls on the cheer team." Eddie rose his eyebrows, "they seem nice" he leaned his head forward while you pushed your legs up. Floating on your back, "they're mean" you pouted while Eddie did the same.

"When you came up to me saying that you'd help tutor me, I thought it'd be a living hell. Hawkins High teachers pet making me get good grades? Hell no..." you flipped back over with a smile on your lips. "I found myself wanting to spend time with you. Y'know, like outside of the school." You laughed and it echoed, Eddie thought he heard angels singing.

You dunked your head to pull your hair away from your face neatly, when resurfacing you swam over to Eddie who was holding onto the edge of the pool. You grabbed the brick, holding your body weight up. He turned his head to look at you, "I never thought bad about you" you told him, Eddie rose his eyebrows. "Not once?" He joked, you hummed in response. "Not once. I don't think it's fair to judge someone based of what you hear about them." Eddie slowly nodded his head, "you're a good guy, one who deserves to be treated as one and not labeled as a freak." You said, turning her head back to face him while he leaned his cheek to his arm.

He sighed out, God how do I get this girl to stay in my life, he thought. "You got a little rebel in you, I can see it." You laughed again, turning to rest your head on the brick, back pressed against the edge. "Yeah, 'cause you're corrupting me." You told him in a low whisper.

Eddie moved, holding his arms on either side of you while you quickly lowered your legs, your body sunk from not holding onto anything and your hands were quick to hold onto his arms. You was trapped.

You looked to him through your wet eyelashes, mascara dripping down your eyes as he studied your face. Noticing a scar you had on your eyebrow. "How'd you get that scar?" He lightly felt your scar with his thumb, "that's a story for another time" you spoke quietly, "what are you doing?" You softly asked, Eddie raising his eyebrows. "What am I doing?" He asked, you nodded your head, hands still holding his arms while his feet were held on the edge of the floor of the pool. He pushed his hand under the water, grabbing under your thigh while you wrapped you legs around his hips.

"I couldn't see you in the dark, I can see you a lot better now." He told you, "yeah?" you asked him, face burning with heat from the red that fanned across your cheeks. You felt it in the pit of your stomach, the second you decided to learn forward the door had roughly banged open. Eddie turning his head fast while you unhooked your legs from around his waist and turned, Eddie's chest pressing against your back while he let go of one side, holding your hip as you lifted yourself out of the pool. ""Hey, you can't be in here!" The man yelled, "since when did Hawkins have security- You're totally right, sir. Totally right..." Eddie spoke while lifting himself out of the pool.

The guard shined his flashlight to the both of you, "hey, man! She's half naked!" Eddie shouted while you rubbed your lips together, walking behind Eddie who acted as if he was shielding your body from the security. You leaned down, tugging your jeans up the best you could with your wet legs.

"Run" you heard Eddie whisper, your jeans unbuckled as you leaned down to grab the rest of your clothes. "What?" You asked, "run!" When he yelled that, you quickly grabbed your pile, leaving a sock behind while Eddie quickly hit the security's hat off of his head. "Come back here!"

You and Eddie sprinted through Hawkins' High, "hey man, she runs track, and I've ran from you guys before. You're not very good at your job!" Eddie screamed while you pushed hard against the school doors. Goosebumps immediately littering on your bodies. Eddie still only in his underwear as they ran to his van that was parked.

He jumped in with his clothes on his lap, you breathing heavy in the seat next to him. Body turned to face him as he turned to look at you. "You were gonna' kiss me back there!" He said with a wide smile, "I was not!" You shouted, your tone raising high while your jeans were still unbuckled and shirt was still on your lap.

"Oh, baby... You totally were." Eddie responded while tugging his jeans up his legs the best he could while sat down. Turning to you, "you still can, y'know, if you want too." He gave you permission. You sighed, "well," you cleared your throat while buckling your jeans and pulling your shirt over your wet body. "You've seen me in my bra and underwear, that's enough action for you." Eddie laughed loud while pulling out of the parking lot.

"You wanna' spend the night?" You pulled the visor down and flipped up the screen. "Sure" you told him. Eddie smiling wide from the response he never thought he would get. The yellow light illuminating on your skin while you rubbed under your eyes to try and rub the mascara stains from your eyes. "You look good with your makeup ran like that." Eddie told you, "what?" You asked, Eddie turning to see you already looking at him.

"You don't-" he let out a breath, "you really are a good girl!"

2 years ago
“Tireless, Talky Teen-agers Keep Telephone Lines Toiling”
“Tireless, Talky Teen-agers Keep Telephone Lines Toiling”
“Tireless, Talky Teen-agers Keep Telephone Lines Toiling”

“Tireless, Talky Teen-agers Keep Telephone Lines Toiling”

Grey Villet, Life, Apr 2, 1956

2 years ago

“‘Forests have secrets,’ he said gently. ‘It’s practically what they’re for. To hide things. To separate one world from another.’”

— Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless (via natural-magics)

2 years ago

what's he like?

What's He Like?

pairing — stepbrother!eddie munson x stepsister!(f)reader

warnings — (18+) this is a soft dark fic with taboo themes. eddie is manipulative and coercive, gonna tag it as dubcon just in case, stepcest smut- fingering, dirty talk, public sex, eddies mean, innocence kink, dacryphilia, grinding (?) i never know how to tag it, eddie uses the readers panties to make her feel good,

word count — 3.2k (accidently double what I was going for)

a’s notes — i’m a pervert. oh and I like the shining !

What's He Like?

Eddie Munson isn’t a good guy. He knew it was wrong, but he’s sick and twisted and so very perverted that he’ll sink into those sinful waters with stones tied to his feet if it means he gets to stay. 

An almost sister, far apart enough to break no laws and close enough that it was clearly wrong. Borderline criminal, wholly illicit. But Eddie wasn’t one to deny himself much, not when the world made it so easy; you practically fell into his lap, how was he supposed to ignore the opportunities? 

The infatuation to begin with was immoral but with Eddie’s reputation as the town ‘freak’, he thought what’s another notch on that continuous bedpost? He’ll be the drug dealer, he’ll play the weirdo, he’ll sing of satanic worship and whatever people think he’s capable of and behind closed doors he’ll treat himself to a delicacy so much worse. He’s told time and time again that he is the villain? Fine, he’ll be the villain. 

It’s ironic that you see him as the opposite. 

Family has never meant much to you. The word or the people. The people hardly stuck around and in the end, it became just you and your mother and that was doomed from the start. Your relationship with her was never great and after you both started working jobs to help pay for the roof over your heads it just deteriorated quicker. 

So it was out of the blue when you found out your mum had met someone and you were about to move in with them. She met the guy at her work and they had hit it off immediately, all of that love at first sight stuff that you adored. You had forever read about epic romances and world-shattering love so the idea that your mother, who you may not have been close with, was getting that sounded perfect. Your chance for the family that you dreamt of but never allowed yourself to look at in the harsh light of consciousness. 

Wayne was a nice man. You had no faults. He made your mother happy which was his strongest defender and he was kind, his dry humour made you giggle- when you understood- and he was a gentleman. You would have never expected it from the rumours about his relatives but after spending some time with him, you felt he was the perfect fit for your mum, and for the imaginary idea of your future. 

The rumours in Hawkins spread quicker than fire. At school, you kept your head down, or in a classic, and tried to be kind and polite whilst saying few words, so whatever was the big gossip of the week you never really cared about. 

It’s why you didn’t have any hesitations about Eddie. Sure the stories and list of offences against him were vicious but every time you looked up, if he caught your eye, he was stepping out of the way so girls could pass and hugging his friends with that adorable dimpled smile of his. The rumours never held any weight. None of it could be proven before you had met him and decided which truth to follow. And fortunately for both of you, Eddie seemed like an angel. 

It had been just over a month and your fantasy family was dripping into reality. More like pouring, every time you spent more time together it felt like everything would begin to sparkle as you’d read about. It made you fuzzy that you and your step-brother were the closest. Something in you just gravitated towards him and you were always received with welcome arms. Anyone could see that you adored him. To you, he was the strong male character in your life. He’d protected you, looked after you and doted on your constantly. For the first time in your life, you felt special. 

Eddie was your Prince Charming. To you, it was as simple as that. 

And there was no doubt on earth that you were his Princess. Eddie had no shame in flaunting that title around and taking great advantage of its powers. 

For example, using it as a knife to cut down any notions of boyfriends; 

“Princess he’s not good for you, he’s just going to fuck you and leave. You don’t want that do you?” a big hand cradling your teary face, he’s rock hard from looking at your wet lips and matching eyes. 

You shake your head dumbly, “N-No but Eds he said he really likes me.” You sniffled into his arms, feeling the pull to be closer to him more than usual. In such close proximity like this, it’s like you want to be permanently attached to him. Feeling an overwhelming desire to be touching him. 

“Trust me. You’re my princess and I only ever want what’s best for you.” you nod and wrap your arms around his lean torso. 

“Say that you believe me. Say you trust me.” 

Your voice doesn’t shake when you answer him. 

He also uses it as a lasso every time he wants something extra. Reeling you back in as you trail after the name. Utterly and unknowingly addicted to the way the syllables fall from his lips, the way those lips curve because he knows he’s in control. 

It was now Friday night, which had become the night Eddie’s group comes round and they always end up watching a movie. Sometimes you’re invited to stay but tonight you saw that they were watching The Shining and determined to opt for the comfort of your bed. Eddie understood, he’d cuddled you after enough nightmares to know it wouldn’t be for you. 

Which is why he’s so surprised to see you in the doorway. Lit mutely by the TV screen, rubbing your eyes in your little pj’s. The items that haunt his dreams. A thin white baby tee that thins every day by the way he swears your nipples get more noticeable each day, maybe it’s the impure thoughts but who’s to tell, and pink, practically panties you conveniently call shorts. They’re not that short. Eddie just can’t help but notice his hand is just the right size too big to slide under those shorts, or over, or rip them in two through. 

Shattered out of those recurring thoughts, Eddie looks up to you who is already looking at him. “Hi, Princess.” he smiles, becoming you closer with an outstretched arm. 

Your fingertips immediately graze his and work their way up his arm, not before getting distracted by his rings. “Hi, Eds.”

“You okay?”

You nod, staring down at your fingers tracing his tattoos. He’s watching your face, trying to figure out what you want, “Jus’ wanted to see you s’all.” he should’ve guessed. Before Eddie you had never been a contact comfort person, never had anyone to go to when you just need a hug. It was hardly a surprise when everything fell into place and Eddie became that person.

Eddie was your person.

“C’mere.” a simple command that has you rushing over to him. You completely forget everyone else in the room. Letting Eddie’s actions wash over you as he leads you to sit astride his legs, sinking into his back and the arm of the sofa. Watching with heavy eyes as he gets a blanket and throws it over the both of you and completes it all by wrapping his arms around your middle and tugging you into him. 

And then you look up. Eyelids barely focusing but making out the poorly concealed shock on one of the boys’ face. It’s almost movie-like when you watch as the guy beside him leans over and whispers something in his ear. The audience can just about make out a “they’re just close-” or something along those lines. It placates you. Just as the look Eddie is throwing them over your head would, staring at them with a gaze that puts them in their place; they don’t speak about you. 

Your hands are both sitting on his chest, fiddling with the fabric of his black sweater, breathing in the smell that is just Eddie. 

Eddie’s eyes are on the screen. Watching the flickering characters, the action the suspense and the only thing he’s aware of are your fingers pushing into the plush of his clothes and your ass tantalisingly close to his crotch. He would have been able to control himself, after all he’s not alone but when you start to shift and move, he hardly manages to conceal the groan pushing at his vocal cords. You don’t notice because you never notice, blissfully cluelessness of the effect you have on him; and too many other sleazy guys that had tried and failed to pursue you. 

But Eddie never claimed to be a good guy. So what was a little indulgence?

When the sensation of his hand moving on your leg catches your attention it’s because it keeps moving. Usually, he just draws patterns on your skin but this time the patterns extend. Instead of twisting back on themselves they keep going, up from your ankle blooming dangerously close to your inner thigh when they rest on the crease between your thigh and torso. And then he squeezes. 

The squeak that leaves you is surprised and loud enough for Eddie to hear you, immediately grinning and fighting to keep his eyes from rolling. You hope in vain that he didn’t hear but when he squeezes again you know he did. 

A chaste kiss is pressed into your hair before his lips dip, “Can you be quiet for me?” his fingers start to move again, dipping lightly into the insides of your thighs and then moving back. You look up at him with wide eyes, questioning him- what he was doing, what this was. “I need you to keep quiet. Because I’m gonna touch you and I want it to be our secret ‘kay?” 

His stare leaves no room for consideration and usually, that would work, but when his long fingers start trailing over the cotton underwear you have on, your brows furrow, “Eddie, this is- we can’t.” something in you knows its wrong and you use that to try and scrape away the sick pleasure you’re already receiving. 

On the screen there’s blood on the walls and enough violence to make you cry so when you turn to look at the noise, Eddie’s large palm is there sweeping your vision back to him. And maybe it affects your judgement, because the action reminds you: Eddie is always protecting you, he knows what’s best, at least that’s what he’s always said. He’s done nothing to contradict that. When you do see him it softens you further. His eyes are like black holes, a pixel of the TV screen in them. It’s unsurprising when you get swallowed up by them, rendering into nothing beneath his gaze. 

He smiles, his hand has found home on your face again and his thumb sweeps under your eyes, and then his gaze melts into something darker. Like ink to oil, he says, “Princess. I know you’re not saying no to me.” 

And he’s right. 

Because then his fingers graze the sodden fabric and you’re caught red-handed. You want to cry, you want to hide, and he lets you for a moment. You want to get away but you’re nestling into his body confusing your mind further. You don’t know what you want. But Eddie does. 

“I know little one, I know.” he shushes you, appearing the comforting big brother as he strokes your hair and looks uninterested. All the while his fingers have explored to the band of your panties. They finger the little bow on them, he smiles to himself because it’s just so you. He takes ahold of the elastic band and you twist the fabric in your hand in confusion. 

You mumble something under your breath and Eddie doesn’t even feign attention, he carries on playing with you. With a harsh grip on the front of your panties, Eddie pulls them up towards you. The angle of the fabric means it’s rubbing directly on your clit, pulling everything tight, making you throb. Eddie watches what he can see; your little hands scratching him through his sweater and the way you curl in towards him, legs drawing up and thighs tensing around his hand. He knows how inexperienced you are, he has a list of everything he wants to teach you. This being one of them. 

Perhaps he should have waited longer, maybe this wasn’t the right time, but all of a sudden he feels your smaller hand encompassing his wrist, keeping him there. At the gesture he smiles, hiding it in your hair and kissing your head softly, because Eddie really does care for you; but he’s going to treat you like he doesn’t. 

That’s what he does for a while, manipulating the fabric to make you whimper. It’s causing you to drip. You can feel your button throbbing against the mean material and you wish it didn’t feel good. It shouldn’t feel good. It’s weird and it’s worse that it’s Eddie doing it; your step-brother. None of this is right, but you don’t release his hand, you can stop from clenching around nothing. You feel entirely powerless, the only thing you can do is try and turn your mind off and pretend the two of you are alone. 

But of course, the world has a cruel sense of humour. 

“Hey, Eddie, is she okay?” one of Eddie’s friends, his name the furthest thing from your mind given your current state, leans towards the pair of you to share his concern. He nods his head in your direction and there’s a questioning glint in his eyes as he looks at your brother. 

From his perspective it looks like you’re crying, your chest moving with added weight and your head has hardly left Eddie’s chest. A hand comes down to stroke your hair, the other concealed by the blanket still moves, and you feel Eddie’s sternum rise to reply. 

He drops his voice, playing into his part, “Oh yeah, she’s all good, jus’ had a nightmare.” he nods as his friend releases the subject. Returning his focus to the screen. 

Eddie should have stopped. But deep down, or not that far, neither of you wanted him to. Deft fingers crawl from their original place, smoothing down the fabric to cup you through it. His fingers move as he traces the outline of your lips, your clit, even going as far to prod at your hole over the top of the fabric. 

It makes you whine his name, he’s playing with you and it’s mean. You won’t ever tell him to stop, especially not when he’s rubbing over the fabric. But you lie nonetheless. 

Lifting your lips closer to his ear, “Eds, we shouldn’t. I don’t wanna get in trouble.” it’s pathetic and you both know it. 

Your hand is hardly pushing him away. His wrist is enveloped in your soft fingers, that just rest on the skin as if just to hold him, to feel him. You try to catch his eye but he’s already shaking his head. His tongue wets his lips as they curve into that smirk again that makes you feel damned. 

He breathes and thinks he’s going to be nice. There is a multitude of sins circling his hazy brain that would be much worse than what he’s going to do to you. It’s not like he doesn’t know he needs to be careful with you. You’re gentle and delicate and as much as he wants to split you open and make you scream on his cock, he won’t just yet. He needs to ease you into it. Thankfully you’re already halfway there. 

“And yet,” he starts, his voice is haunting and dark, disarming you completely with a tone you’ve never heard before, “you’re soaking through your panties, little one.” and it makes you want to cry, the whole situation, his condescending words, everything because he’s right. 

The fabric is ruined with your arousal and when Eddie lifts it to the side it pulls away with slick strings. He huffs a laugh at your broken face, tears welling up already and he’s hardly touched you. Ever since he saw you he knew you’d be heaven to break. 

Eddie dips a finger into the pool of arousal he’s summoned. Coating his digits in before breaching your hole. He’s slow at first but then he gets greedy and he lets himself off the hook because his last line of defence will always be: he wants to be worse. It takes you by surprise when you feel his finger thrust quickly into you, leaving no time in curling the digit until it searches for that special spot that even you haven’t discovered. You both know when he does; a high-pitched squeal leaves your bitten lips at the sensation, immediately pushing your face into his sweater to smother any other humiliating noises. 

Eddie shakes off his friends’ concerned looks and thankfully they don’t pry. Your face feels on fire and you submit to the torture as Eddie strokes and rubs at that spot. The blanket helps to smother the noises. You can hear them minutely, it’s overwhelming, the wet sopping noises coming from your cunt and Eddie’s fingers which are by now soaked in your desperation. 

He revels in it. The way your moans drown into his body, the hiccups he knows soon will turn in to sobs, you react so beautifully and he can’t help but feel it was meant to be. In a perverted way he thinks this is right, what he should be doing. And even if he knows perhaps morally its not, you clenching around his finger rhythmically is enough persuasion to carry on. 

Before long he’s sliding in another finger. Your eyes clench at the intrusion, not because its painful but because of how easy it went in. The whole thing is humiliating and you’re closer than ever. 

Jack Nicholson has an axe on screen, stepping up the stairs to the beat of Eddie’s thumb, which is now circling your clit. The two fingers inside you pump as the screen flashes. The man above you, inside of you, speeds up with every sharp camera turn. It’s getting increasingly harder to hold in your noises and Eddie can sense that. 

He does it unthinkingly and its ironic that thats the thing to break you. Something incidental. His hand leaves its place on your head and his thumb mindlessly slots into your mouth, muffling your pathetic noises. When he brings his hand up to keep it in there, it becomes the triggering sensation. 

Now Eddie is struggling to stay silent. At first he focuses on the way your cunt grips his fingers. Your clit pulsating under his thumb. Making it impossible to pull them out until your orgasm ceases. But then he feels something wet on his neck. And he realises that you’re fucking crying. 

He desperatly claws at breathing slowly and focusing his gaze on the screen, trying to figure out whats happening in the movie. But its futile. Nothing can take his mind away from the fact that you came so hard you’re mewling into his neck, wet little hole crying for him too, and it’s you. 

Once your orgasm slows its attack on your body you lay limp in his arms. Exhausted and high, you stay like that until the movie ends. 

You both know it was wrong. That it shouldn’t happen again, and you were going to try to do the right thing. But Eddie, well, 

Eddie Munson was a bad guy.

What's He Like?

a’s notes — please reblog i beg of you WITH TAGS

kofi <3

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juggernort - Caitlin
Caitlin

22girl who likes old things

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