Hospitality

she’s mine ; george x reader

(L-R) John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete Best, Paul McCartney and Stuart Sutcliffe at the Indra Club, Hamburg, 17 August 1960

request: 25. w/ George? 25- “You so much as touch a single hair on her/his head, I will tear your spine clear out of your body.” a/n: why do i always have the same plot???? like ur friends with a beatle and surprise, they like you lol pairing: george x reader summary: you visit george, your friend, in Germany and his bandmate, Stuart flirts with you. george doesn’t like that and he reveals something warnings: swearing year: 1960 word count: 785

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Obey me boys except when the gold hellfire newt syrup made them horn dogs, you let them hit 🫶🏻

𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐄 + 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂

☰ INCLUDES: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

— tags: nsfw 18+, spoilers for lessons 21 and 22, afab! reader, unprotected sex, cowgirl (leviathan), hand jobs (satan), cunnilingus (beelzebub), blow jobs (belphegor)

— notes: this has been in my drafts for so long rip

✰ 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his chest, cheek laying over your head as you clutch his shirt tightly with your fist. “did you think of me when you went back to the human world? did you think of only me—not my brothers?” he asks lowly, voice almost a slight pant as you feel his hard-on poke you through his pants. you nod, hand reaching down to palm him through the fabric, making his hand grab your wrist with a growl. “it seems you’re still just as bold,” he smirks, gently pushing you back until you’re sprawled over his desk, your clothes being tugged off as he kisses you messily. you watch as he strokes himself a few times, his jaw clenching before he slides up and down against your folds, smirking at the way you whine. “don’t tease,” you huff, lips puffy and swollen from the earlier kissing. “did you dream of me? of this?” he whispers, blunt tip slipping into your warm cunt, kissing your sweet spot perfectly as he buries himself to the hilt with a low groan, “because i did. i dreamt of this since you left. you’re mine, all mine,” he grunts, hips slowly starting a rhythm as your arms wrap tightly around his neck, your sweet whines ringing through the room. lucifer thinks he can get used to this melody—thinks he prefers it over any symphony he’s heard over the millennia. your walls hug around his cock tighter, and he moans lowly, head digging deep into your neck. “do you know what you do to me?” he growls, “a mere human, but i can barely breathe when i look at you.”

✰ 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 cups your cheeks and kisses you needy, hungry, desperate. his lips suck on yours, tongue exploring your mouth as he pants against you. “why’d ya take so long to get to my room?” he pouts, “shoulda came to me first. are they more important? ‘m your first,” he reminds you, letting out a shaky breath as your hand trails under his shirt to rub over his bare skin. your palm glides up his abs to his chest, thumbs rolling over his nipples as he whines softly. “come closer, i need ya closer,” he groans, cock pulsing through his jeans as he rubs against your clothes cunt. you moan against each other’s mouths, grinding your hips against each other before he quickly slips your pants down your legs, fumbling to free himself before he bends you over the hood of the car in his room. “always wanted to bend ya over this,” he mutters, pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck. “room’s been so empty without ya. ya don’t have to go back, jus’ stay here with me, the great mammon’ll take care of ya.” his cock slowly inches into you, ripping a needy moan from his throat as his forehead rests against your shoulder, your tight walls fluttering around his thick cock as his hands squeeze your hips with a bruising grip. “f-fuck, ya feel so g-good—don’t think i can let ya go after this,” he grunts, hearing your breathy moans under him, making him even harder as he ruts his hips into you. “missed you, mammon,” you whine, “missed you so bad.” his breath is labored as his pace turns sloppy, angling his hips to slam into the spot that makes your back arch against his chest. “‘course ya missed the great mammon,” he lets out a breathy chuckle, “‘m your first man, don’t ya remember?”

✰ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 blushes as you whisper “kiss me, levi,” his breath hitching in his throat as you lean closer, your breath fanning over his lips. he should pull away—but he can’t help but lean closer until your lips touch, molding against each other perfectly. he pants against your lips, kissing you sloppily as your tongue slips into his mouth and glides against his own—pulling a soft chuckle from you as he lets out a strangled groan. “w-we should stop,” he stutters, “but now i want more.” you grin, gently pushing him onto his back on his bed, hovering over him as you trail your lips down his neck and to his collarbone, marking his pale skin while his breath turns ragged. “want more too, levi,” you murmur, “missed you so much. let me show you.” he watches in a trance, pupils dilated and cheeks crimson as you slowly undress, helping him slip out of his own clothes before you hand grazes his stiff cock. he lets out a shaky gasp, hips bucking into your hand for more friction. “a-are you sure...you want to—” he quickly cuts himself off with a moan when you squeeze around his tip, thumb teasing his slit before smearing the pre cum over his length. “of course i do,” you hum, letting out a soft moan as you sink down on his cock, watching as his head falls against the pillow and his hands grip your waist tightly, “wanted this for so long.” you roll your hips, both of your moans filling the room as he thrusts his hips up to meet you halfway, veins dragging along your walls and tip sinking deep into your sweet spot. “c-can’t believe you’re back—can’t believe you’re with me,” he rasps, “hope you never leave.”

✰ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍 presses you against his wall of many books, and even as you feel the uncomfortable dig of the bookshelf against your back, you can’t help but let your lips press harder against his, making him let a soft groan as his hair falls over his eyes. “did—did you ever wish to see me? while you were away?” he breathes, eyes staring into yours as you brush the strands of hair out of his face. you lean to press gentle kisses along his cheeks, feeling the heat of his blush under your lips as your hand moves to rub over his clothed erection. he lets out a choked groan, head falling to your shoulder as his legs quiver when you slip his hardened cock from his pants. your thumb glides through his slit, smearing the pre cum around his reddened tip before slowly stroking his length, feeling his hot breath as he pants against your skin. “i did,” you murmur, “and i wished to see you like this too,” you say cheekily, feeling him let out a low chuckle through his labored pants. “being away has made you less shy, it seems. you’re—o-oh, fuck,” he cuts himself off with a soft moan, hips thrusting into your fist and chasing the friction. you turn your head, planting soft kisses on the side of his head, stroking him faster as your hand squeezes tighter around his aching length. you grin as he shudders against your body, your free hand threading through his sweaty locks. “did you get lonely without me,” you hum, making him scoff—but then you squeeze around him tighter, making him rasp out a moan as his cock twitches, nearing his impending orgasm. “okay, f-fine,” he grunts, “i missed you. it wasn’t the same without you—i’m not the same without you.”

✰ 𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒 giggles as he presses soft kiss after kiss to your face, mapping out your cheeks and forehead, lingering over your eyelids and the tip of your nose as your arms hook around his neck. “oh, you’re so cute! your waist fits my hands so perfectly,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours as he admires you. you whine, bucking your hips up, letting out a shaky gasp as the tip of his cock rubs over your clit, making him smile down at you with a chuckle. “patience, sweetheart,” he hums, “i’ll give you what you want, but first you have to tell me if you missed me as much as i missed you.” his finger teases over your clit, rubbing slow circles, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as he presses gentle kisses to your neck and sucks on the skin. “i did,” you cry, “i did, i m-missed you so much! asmo, please—” he cuts you off with the tip of his cock slowly teasing past your folds, a soft laugh ringing through your ear as he kisses the shell of it. “you’re so pretty when you’re all needy,” he grins, “so, so cute when you want attention. i love you.” he lets out a wanton moan against your ear, breathy gasps bubbling from his throat as you squeeze around his cock, his hips rolling with a slow, steady pace that leaves you both whining against each other. “love you too, love you too,” you babble, raising your hips and meeting his thrusts halfway, mewling as his he curves into you and hits your spot perfectly. your chests meet, nipples grazing as he pulls you into a heated kiss and whines against your mouth. “feel so good, sweetheart,” he groans, “you’re so pretty like this, don’t think i can ever let you go now.”

✰ 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁 plants two strong hands on your hips, pulling you closer as his head falls to your shoulder, his nose trailing along your neck and inhaling your scent before he presses a soft kiss to your skin. “you smell so good,” he murmurs, “let me taste you—just a small nibble.” you gasp lightly before he lifts you to sit on the kitchen counter, fingers hooking into your waistband and quickly making work to pull your pants and underwear down your legs. “just need one taste, you smell so sweet,” he breathes, kneeling down until he’s face to face with your dripping cunt. he presses a soft kiss to your clit, humming as you shiver and let out a soft whimper. “so hungry—but it feels so different. so hungry for you,” he mumbles, lips attaching onto your clit and sucking slowly while his fingers sink past your folds, making you throw your head back as your hands bury into his locks and tug at the roots while you whine. “b-beel—fuck, we shouldn’t…we shouldn’t do this h-here,” you stutter, feeling his tongue slide along your wet folds, your slick smearing across his face as he devours you. “can’t wait anymore, ‘m too hungry,” he moans against you, the vibrations making you squeal as your brain turns foggy, all reason leaving your mind. “more,” you whine, “please, i need more.” his tongue almost sinks past you deeper at that, lapping at your folds as he groans at how sweet you taste. “gonna come taste you when i get hungry from now on,” he moans, “so good and sweet for me.”

✰ 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 is breathing heavily, face bright red as you kneel between his legs, pumping his stiff length with your hand as your other fondles his balls. he lets out a choked gasp when you lean down and kiss the tip sweetly, looking up at him with doe eyes. “belphie, don’t get shy now,” you hum, “you asked for this, remember?” he grunts, frowning down at you with pouty lips. “i’m still mad you ate my food,” he huffs, “so you have to make it up to me.” smiling, you press kisses from the base of his shaft, lips pressing gently up his length as his breath turns more and more ragged. his head throws back with a soft whine as you take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip before you bob your head up and down his length. his hips buck into your mouth, hand cupping the back of your head before he fucks himself down your throat. “fuck—you’re good at this,” he rasps, “sh-should’ve had you do this while you were here.” his eyes are squeezed shut, faced flushed as your hand gently rubs his thigh. popping off with a grin, he hisses, glaring down at you as you press another kiss to his tip. “i’ll do this whenever you want,” you murmur, blinking up at him innocently before slowly wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, making him groan lowly. “then you b-better come back whenever i call,” he grunts, “in fact, don’t leave at all.” your hand reaches to play with his balls once more, making his head fall back with a low moan, cock twitching in your mouth while pants erratically. “didn’t get to spend as much time with you as the rest—g-gotta stay with me and make up for it.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

I’ll Bandage You Up (Michelangelo)

Pair: Michelangelo x Reader

Word Count: 3,578

Rating: T for language, blood, and fluff.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Blood, attempted assault.

Authors Notes:  Thank you all for being patient with this next round. I wanted to upload this last week, but some self-care was needed. Please enjoy! If you want to read versions featuring Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello, just click!

Generalization:

The night was the perfect late-spring, early summer temperature. Few cars rolled along the city streets, and the alcohol kept your mind comfortably buzzed from your rare outing with friends to the local Barcade. You should’ve known better than to walk home alone. Perhaps you had grown overconfident knowing there were four pairs of protective eyes watching over the city in every shadow. Not only had you befriended the hidden protectors, but one had occupied your mind even while you daydreamed. Knowing he was out there made the giant city less terrifying. And the thought of him kept you warm and content during your monotonous day-to-day routine.

Especially when you were alone…

Perhaps that’s why it didn’t seem so strange when the sensation of being watched prickled at the back of your neck. Why, you had ignored the tick in your legs that urged you to run. Why you had been so surprised when a set of hands shoved you into an adjacent alley. Why your limbs refused to move as if rooted in the asphalt.

There were six of them. Strange men of various heights and builds; some had hair, some didn’t. Some had weapons in their hands, others boasted kneading fingers and eager palms. The only thing they had in common were the devilish grins and terrible glares on their faces, the sight of which made your blood run cold.

Your voice caught in your throat as your mouth opened to scream, holler, anything for help. Only one thought flooded your mind as dread nestled itself in the center of your chest.

Tonight, you were going to die.

A massive shadow dropped in front of you just as one man lunged forward. The assailant bounced off the wall of muscle; the stunned stares from the rest of the group could only mean one thing…

“Stay behind me.” A familiar voice commanded, deeper and rougher than you were used to. 

Your lips parted, and eyes widened at his timing. Before you could form thankful words or ask how he knew where to find you, the group charged forward. Save for one man that had sense enough to run out of the alley.

You stumbled back at their charge and your heart pounded in your ears as you watched the fight unfold…

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Needy Touches

You get affected by the gold hellfire newt syrup ((or,,, you get affected by an aphrodisiac kekeke)). 

Barbatos, Lucifer, Mammon x Reader

A/N: this came from a long line of word vomit -hence the double luci mention bc i could not figure out how i wanted to write this-…. i also tried writing a version where the reader eats enchanted pudding but i didnt finish it soooo perhaps ill post that later…. i just desperately needed barbatos smut

WC - 2.2kish

SMUT // NSFW ((reader w a pussy lol))

~~~

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“b-baby you, you gotta—fuck—moveee”, three orgasms in and the objects around you are beginning to blend into one blurry mosaic, the sativa that coursed through your veins is now becoming an enemy with how sentient t’s made you to his touch, and the tongue making your pussy a sticky mess leaves you mewling into the night. it all happened so quickly, he rushed into the house, slammed open the bedroom door, put the blunt out , and had you on your back in seconds. the image of him in his work suit, perfect hair disheveled, and eyes squeezed in a concentrated bliss, is an image that's going to be burned into your brain for forever. his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing them up by your head to get easier access to your sopping pussy. he ate you out like it was a mission, his tongue dug deep into your pussy, lapping at your spongey walls, drinking up any slick that left you. he transitioned between fucking you deep, and sucking your clit into his mouth, using the pink muscle to trace circles onto the puffy nub, at one point you could feel him spelling out his name. he hasn’t spoken a word since he flipped your dress up, only groans of pleasure could be heard from him. your hands reach down to pull at his hair, pulling his head up to give yourself a chance to breathe. you look down to see his face slick with cum and drool, pink tongue peaking out of his mouth to lick at his swollen lips, a light blush spreading from his checks down his neck, and e/c blown wide with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “why’d you stop me?” his words came out as a whine, while his hands moved to run slow circles against you. “you’re going to kill me baby” you could barely get your words out since he wanted to still use his fingers to massage at your poor clit. he can’t stop the smirk blooming on his face at seeing your body still so responsive to his tender touches.

“one more for me, please—“

*i tag who i think fits best*

(THE AMOUNT OF FUCKING DELAYS I'VE HAD WITH THIS FIC IS INSANE.)

☆ Quit undressing me with your eyes!!

Yandere! '12 Michealangelo x Reader

Tws/cws: Yandere behaviour, AFAB reader, sexual innuendos, obsessive/posessive tendencies, sexual content, masturbation, nonconny thoughts, rape fantasies, Mikey got mad intrusive thoughts :3

Smut written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable.

Even though he's a teenager, Michealangelo never really got any sexual thoughts, that until he met you.

He's never ever thought or Shinigami or Renet in such lewd ways, but you...you were different.

He can't even look at you without being plagued by the thought of bending you over the nearest ledge and fucking you absolutely stupid.

Your beautiful face, your lovely curves, your bubbly personality - literally EVERYTHING about you got his dick hard.

But like, how could he not? You just looked absolutely gorgeous just sitting there comepletely oblivious to every fucked up and lewd thought going through his head.

You have no idea how much he wants to shove his cock down your throat, or force himself into you, with you holding onto him grabbing and clawing at whatever you can, begging him to stop, screaming for help only for no one to come to your aid.

Your teary eyed expression full of dread turning into one of ecstasy. Your sobs turning into pleasure filled moans, motivating him to fuck you even harder.

.

.

.

"Mikey?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you. You were smiling at him with a bit of concern plastered on your face. "You're staring again, heh.." you laughed nervously, darting your eyes to the couch, "Hey, I bought you guys pizza!"

Quickly forgetting the vile imagery of you in his head, he grinned and bounced in the couch excitedly at the thought of his favourite food.

"Aww thanks dudette!" The turtle pulled you into an embrace, freezing as he feels your tits agaisnt his plastron.

Oh what he'd give to breed the fuck out of you right now. ♡

You pull away from the hug after a moment and pat Mikey on his head. "I'm gonna go hang out with Donnie in the lab, cya man!" Yeah that's probably be best for your safety anyway. Michealangelo doesn't think he could hold himself back much longer.

"Cya later dudette!" He waved at you as you left the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

Oh.

And a box of pizza!

Whew. That took a lot out of me to finish 👁👁

Alright I hope y'all enjoy lmfao

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.” 

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again. 

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 

Summer has never felt so long. 

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 

You’re completely devastating. 

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?” 

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it. 

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 

He’s milked. Spent. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke. 

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 

God forbid they have coyotes, right? 

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

rise & s(h)in(e)

belphegor x f!reader

summary: you accidentally fall asleep in Belphegor’s bed, and when you wake up, innocent morning snuggling is clearly the last thing on either of your minds.

word count: 2.2k

content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, fingering, handjob, oral fixation, tail kink, biting kink, unprotected p in v, morning sex, creampie, cockwarming, referenced poly relationships, referenced consensual somnophilia

When you rouse from sleep, you’re momentarily disoriented as lazily you reach out to swipe your D.D.D. off of the end table beside your bed, only to find your hand limply swatting at empty air. Cracking open one bleary eye, you quickly realize you’re not in your room. As if in answer to the silent question ringing in your head, a warm huff of air curls against the back of your neck.

Belphie.

A jolt of panic floods your veins when you realize you must have fallen asleep while lying in his bed in the attic watching movies with him last night. Your face heats up with embarrassment, and you’re just about to attempt to slip out from under the covers when an arm snakes around your waist.

Belphegor’s tired, gravelly voice mumbles against your hair, “Where are you going?”

So much for avoiding an awkward moment.

Turning your head slightly to glance back at Belphie, you offer him a weak smile. “Sorry for the uh…impromptu sleepover.”

He frowns when you go to move again, pulling you flush against the heat of his body, and it’s a battle not to melt back into his touch. “You think I’m upset about that?”

“Well…” you trail off, and he lets out a contrary noise.

Belphie noses the back of your neck, sending a shiver of delight down your spine, and you can feel the smile on his face as his lips gently make contact with your skin. “Let’s stay in bed a little longer.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his insistence, and you press your face into the pillow as you grin. But while it comes as no surprise that the Avatar of Sloth is in no rush to peel back the covers of his plush duvet, it’s only when you finally allow yourself to press back into his solid frame that you realize perhaps going back to sleep isn’t quite what he had in mind.

You’ve spent more nights than you’d care to admit sprawled naked across the lush sheets of your bed at the House of Lamentation, fingers desperately plunging into the heat between your thighs, Belphegor’s name a near-silent prayer on your lips. Because despite the way most of the demons and otherworldly beings at RAD have become more than a little bit enamored with you during your time in the Devildom, the one curled up in bed with you now has been the most aloof, leaving you to eagerly crave the rare moments where flirtatious comments fall from his lips, when you can spy a brief flicker of desire flare up in his violet eyes, when his fingers linger a moment longer than necessary against your own. 

And now, you’re belatedly realizing that the fantasy of your fingers was a far cry from the large, firm shaft pressing heavily against your backside. The embers of desire that have long-since been burning for Belphie now flare red-hot in your gut, and you nearly whimper out loud as your pussy weakly clenches down on nothing in response. 

If Belphie were one of the others, you might drag this out. You might roll over and lazily kiss him for a little while first, like you did with Beel. Or perhaps you’d tease him and make him work for it—which you’d shamelessly done with Solomon. While you hold the sound in, you nearly snort at the memory of Lucifer insisting on taking you out to dinner first before he ended up fucking you right there in the entryway of the House of Lamentation after you’d returned anyway—much to the dismay of Satan, who happened to be on his way upstairs with his nose buried in a book. 

But Belphie.

Bephie.

Fuck, you’re so wet already.

Running late for your movie night, you’d hurried over to Belphie’s room fresh out of the shower, only realizing after you’d stepped inside that you’d forgotten to slip on a pair of underwear beneath the soft, cotton shorts hugging your hips. Now, unhindered by the extra material, you can feel a slick trail of arousal leaking from your cunt and sopping into your shorts.  

You can lay in bed lazily kissing Belphie all that you want later, carding your fingers through his soft hair as a low grumble of contentment escapes his pouty lips. You’ll let him indulge in every inch of you with a type of greed that would make Mammon look generous.

But now? 

Right now, while each and every one of your nerve endings is still pleasantly sensitive from the soft edges of sleep lingering in your system, you need to feel him inside of you. You can’t wait any longer.

And when you finally rock back into him, grinding your ass against his erection, Belphie gets the message loud and clear. He hums, pleased, and you can feel the vibration reverberate in his chest. Fingers beginning to roam across the expanse of skin beneath the t-shirt you’d fallen asleep in, Belphie makes a beeline for your breasts, eliciting a whine from you as he begins to massage them.

“You like it when I touch you here?” he asks, voice a quiet rasp. 

He experimentally rolls your peaked nipples between his digits, and all you can do is nod in response.

“But what about here?” 

His hand trails down your stomach, dipping just below the waistband of your shorts, and you can hear the audible hitch in his breath when he realizes you’ve forgone underwear entirely. 

Chuckling, he slowly slides his fingers lower. “Did you forget something?”

One hooked digit reaches out, gently dragging against your swollen clit.

“It was an accident,” you breathe out, far too aroused to try to lace any faux innocence into your tone.

“Hmm,” Belphie muses, running his teeth along the nape of your neck. “Are you sure? Because I swear I’ve heard you whining my name in your room late at night.”

Fuck.

Before you can come up with a witty comeback, he adds, “Sometimes I can hardly make it back to my own room before I start touching myself thinking about those cute little sounds you make.”

Oh.

Rocking into his touch, you reply, “Why didn’t you ever just knock?”

You can almost hear the smirk on his face as he answers, “Because I wanted to wait until you’d had your fill of everyone else first to show you what you’ve really been missing.”

At that, you feel the tip of Belphie’s tail brush against your leg, and there’s something undeniably possessive about the way it wraps around your bare thigh, the normally prickly areas along it now flat and soft to the touch as it caresses you. 

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs with a groan as he slides two fingers through your slick folds. 

“Belphie, please,” you whine, pressing down against his digits.

“If I’d have known you were this impatient, I would have let you wake up with me inside you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you know the words are more of a question than a statement. 

“Next time,” you confirm, cunt already aching with anticipation at the thought of Belphie sliding his cock into your needy hole while you’re still asleep. And because you know what your words will do to him, you add, “You’re the only one that I’ll let do that.”

A small growl of pleasure crawls up his throat at the admission, and he heeds your desperation by plunging two fingers into your pussy.

“Belphie,” you moan, biting your bottom lip hard as his dexterous digits curl inside of you.

“I love it when you say my name,” he rasps, letting your arousal coat his palm as he fucks you with his fingers.

But even after he adds a third digit, it’s still not enough to quell the ravenous desire rapidly crawling up and down your spine. When you reach back to grasp his cock through his sleep pants, Belphie groans, rocking his hips into your touch. As you begin to push down both layers of fabric covering his shaft, he’s quick to shove them off, his length hot and heavy in your hands when you begin to pump it.

The lazy confidence in Belphie’s voice falters as you stroke his cock, and he gasps your name when you slide your thumb over the bead of precum leaking from the tip. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he pants, jerking into your touch while he continues to stroke the wet walls of your cunt. 

In response, you tug aside the loose hem of your shorts, not even bothering to shuck them off. You push yourself back into Belphie’s cock, keening at the feeling of the head bluntly pressing against your damp slit, and he pulls his sticky digits from your cunt to tightly grasp your hip.

The sound that leaves your mouth is somewhere between a gasp and a strangled moan when he begins to ease the gratuitous length of his cock into your wet hole, your cunt greedily clenching down on each and every inch as he stretches you open. 

Morning sex, by default, is always a wonderful affair of tired, tender pleasure that never fails to leave your toes curling and your back arching as your heavy eyelids are nearly on the verge of fluttering shut once more. 

But with Belphie?

With Belphie, it’s more than you could have ever imagined.

Once he stuffs his shaft in to the hilt, he begins to ease it back out again, soon falling into a steady rhythm pushing and pulling through your tight, clenching walls. And there’s just something about the way he holds you, the way his fingers flutter across your collarbone, lips pressing chaste kisses along the side of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, the whispers of your name leaving his lips. 

You’re still so tired and sensitive, and Belphie knows it. 

He revels in it, your whimper as he presses a kiss to the sensitive patch of skin just below your ear before dragging his teeth along the hinge of your jaw. The breathy pant when he teasingly pulls his cock out and drags along your wet slit for but a moment (and the quiet, choked out moan that follows when he slides it back in).

“So fucking tight,” he groans at the slick sound of his length being swallowed into the warmth of your pussy again. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any stray, wandering thoughts you’ve had in the past about the dexterity of Belphie’s tail are obliterated at the feeling of it brushing over your sex. With the soft end resting against your stomach, he presses the solid part into your clit, moving it in a circular motion as he continues to fuck you.

“Holy shit,” you moan at the added stimulation, the pleasure slowly creeping through your abdomen now dripping through your limbs like molten lava. He increases the pressure, shifting the hand gently resting against the side of your neck to cup your jaw. At the feeling of his thumb sliding over your bottom lip, you can’t help but dart your tongue out, and you hear a pleased sound in your ear as Belphie experimentally prods with his pointer and middle fingers.

“Fuck,” he breathes out when you readily take his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them while your cunt squelches with each stroke of his cock as he massages your sensitive bundle of nerves with his tail. Drool begins to slide out of your mouth and onto the pillow beneath you as you slide your tongue along his digits, the taste of you still lingering on them.

And just when tears are on the verge of slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure cresting within you, the thick coil of tension in your gut snaps loose, and you moan around Belphie’s fingers as you writhe with the force of your climax.

Belphie knows you want him to come inside of you, he’s smelled the lingering scent of the others’ leftover spend dripping down your thighs day in and day out. But he asks anyway, only for you to reach behind and tightly grab his hip, nearly impaling yourself on his cock as you force him to bottom out inside of you, silently begging for it. 

And he’s nearly feral with it now—the thought of the two of you going down for breakfast, his cum still sloshing around in your pretty little pussy, eyes half-lidded in your sated state. The conspiratorial look you’ll give him from across the table as you feel his cum soaking into your uniform.

Maybe one of his brothers will try to fuck you afterward, only to find a load of his cum leaking out of you. 

Or maybe he’ll have to take you back upstairs to fill you up one more time himself before class. 

—because now that he’s had you. Belphie’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to get enough.

Belphie can’t help the way his teeth latch onto the soft skin at the junction between your shoulder and neck as his orgasm hits him, and you gasp out in pleasure as he bites down hard while he spills himself deep inside of you. And when he eventually stills, rather than moving away, Belphie just snuggles in closer and wraps his arms around you.

“It’s too early, let’s sleep a little longer,” he yawns, cock still buried inside of your cum-filled cunt as he curls against you and tangles his ankles with yours.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

Gally: And of course, Y/N was there, looking at everyone with her ridiculously big eyes.

Minho: Why is he talking about Y/N?

Newt: I don’t know. I asked him about the new shack and somehow we ended up here.

Ellie hear me out…

Chrissy joining the yandere fruity four to make it the fruity five

*drops mic and walks off*

/GRABS UR MIC AND THROWS IT, KNOCKING U OUT. GET BACK HERE.

Chrissy would be such an addition to the fruity four. Feeling indebted to Eddie for saving her life from Vecna, she follows him around like a puppy trying to offer her help whenever he takes it, even though he seriously just wants her to stay safe. But then the danger passes over Hawkins (for now) and Chrissy catches wind of the strange absence of Eddie and his newfound friends from their normal schedules. He makes it to Hellfire weekly, and she usually sees him around his general hangouts, but he often is accompanied by one or a few of his friends--plus one that she's not so familiar with. You.

To say she's infatuated is an understatement. It's not clear why or how she falls so hard so fast, but she does, and thus she starts sticking her nose into yours and the fruity four's business. She can see how weird Eddie gets when she asks him questions, so she tries to get you alone--but you're never alone, you've always got Nancy or Robin or the boys on your arm or at your side. And that Steve Harrington is always staring her down, he catches her every time she's looking at you and she usually ends up shrinking back at how intense his gaze is. And if it's not just him, then Nancy's sharp eyes or Robin's soft ones lock with hers and don't look away until she buckles.

It's quite the difficult task to get her fill of you when you're always being protected, but eventually she'll find her way to your house and climb in through your bedroom window, hoping to at least find something she can take as a souvenir. But when she gets there, you're nowhere to be found--and waiting for her instead is Steve, perched on the edge of your bed with his arms folded like he's been waiting for her to show up. He's definitely a hardass to her, thinking she's got some kind of ulterior motive or she's an agent for Vecna or something, until Eddie comes crashing through the window after her to intervene. Babbles on about how Chrissy's a good girl and makes a case for her, and lucky he does, because Steve when he's jealous comes off like he's prepared to kill her just to keep her quiet.

Thankfully it doesn't come to that. Eddie's happy to introduce her to you, let you get to know each other a bit with supervision, until he and the others and you can gauge how you all feel about Chrissy. And seeing you two giggle and get along makes at least some of them smile, while others (Steve and Robin) feel pangs of jealousy. They'll learn to get along, though--especially when they find out how manipulative Chrissy can be to lower the suspicion about them and keep people away from you, plus how good of a liar she's learned to be. Whether that's to sway the outsiders into thinking nothing of your "friendship", or helping the four keep some truths from you that such a pretty little thing doesn't need to worry about.