Youâre coming back ,
and itâs the end of the world âĄ
đuidelines. đasterlist.
illi ę¤ she / her , queer ŕąż
60âs enthusiast. ronance truther. girl of constant sorrow.

â
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă
hello vonnie
dirt enthusiast
h
NASA
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
cherry valley forever

Kaledo Art
will byers stan first human second
almost home
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

pixel skylines

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
noise dept.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
occasionally subtle
seen from Austria

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Denmark

seen from Denmark
seen from Denmark

seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Yemen

seen from United States

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States
@cakewhimsy
Youâre coming back ,
and itâs the end of the world âĄ
đuidelines. đasterlist.
illi ę¤ she / her , queer ŕąż
60âs enthusiast. ronance truther. girl of constant sorrow.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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https://www.tumblr.com/cakewhimsy/803034017105657856/neville-humping-u-in-his-sleep-%E3%81%A3-%E1%99%86%E1%99%86%E1%99%86?source=share
Clean up on aisle my pants!
heheh i truly love this darling boy
I donât care how disgusting or fucked up a fic is. NO writer should EVER be harassed for writing taboo fics, especially when the warnings are properly tagged and you choose to go ahead and read them on your own free will.
youâre not morally superior for harassing real people for the sake of fictional characters and fictional stories. youâre just a bully.
mistake â jonathan byers
đđđđđđđ jonathan byers x female reader
đđđđđđđ jonathan wants something heâs cursed himself for, and he hates that he canât stop wanting it. but then again, you only live once. right?
đđđđđđđ â đđđđđđđ domestic violence, jonathanâs a virgin, awkward sex but it flows w time, cheating (but who cares bc its tommy h), handjob, mutual masturbation, penetration, cockwarming (?)
đđđđđđ'đ â đđđđ hi this is inspired by the song a mistake by fiona apple! check it out if u havent :-) also i had season 1 / early season 2 in mind while writing this.. except there is no carol
jonathan has always been a careful boy. always precise in his decisions, always thoughtful before saying something that he thinks might come off as offensive. whatâs most striking, though, is that he always surpresses his feelings unless heâs absolutely certain he can express them â never, that is.
until you come around.
youâre friends with nancy wheeler, which means youâre friends with steve harrington, which means heâs surprised as to not having noticed you sooner. really, really surprised, for you are so gorgeous. you are so out of the ordinary that, when spotted, itâs like the sun sank down onto the earth and within your body. thatâs how beautiful you are.
and with that same beauty, somehow, you end up in the arms of tommy hagan. the right side of your neck, heâs sure, still smells like him. like the sweat and goon that radiates off that chronic cocksucker.
that pisses him off, strangely. you are so gentle, so full of grace and life and joy, and you still end up with the biggest douchebag hawkins has ever seen.
he doesnât understand it.
he doesnât understand how, doesnât understand why the same lips that often kiss yours, certainly wrap themselves around sharp words when youâre alone. the same hands that twist your hair so sweetly, make their way against your skin in a slap, harsh and loud. that one he knows, because heâs seen it when you two were arguing at the basketball court, when the sound of skin against skin echoed through the room. you left crying and, when he saw you, he almost ran to you and said something, maybe he would have even given the chocolate he kept inside his bag for will â but no. he couldnât.
because jonathan âthe freakâ byers canât interact with someone with a class so much higher than his (and heâs not just talking about money). he canât interact with someone free of troubles. heâd probably just project his onto you and make hell out of your simple life.
but he canât help it. youâre just so beautiful, so exhilaratingly beautiful that whenever he sees your wide smile, his eyes hurt a bit.
then one day, you approach him.
well, not necessarily approachâ youâre just running late for class, then you drop two of your books right in front of him. âsorry, byers,â you mutter, kneeling down to grab them. he helps you with trembling hands and a beating heart that, were you to ask, heâd hand to you without hesitation.
byers. you know his name. god, he almost chokes on his own spit.
âitâs fine,â he fidgets with the fabric of his jacket, a bit stained with the remaining signs of a hurried breakfast. he moves aside, waiting for you to walk away.
you donât.
âhey.â
he looks up, startled. ââŚwhat?â
âyouâre friends with nancy, yeah?â you turn to him again. your eyes widen slightly upon remembering youâre late, but you donât care. one more minute.
âi mean, kind of. why?â
âsheâs throwing this party at her house, and i know mikeâs doing something for his friends, and willâs going, right?â
he furrows his eyebrows, but nods nevertheless.
you shrug casually, âyou should go. plus, isnât ms. byers, i donât know, forcing you to be around him âcause she doesnât want him to be alone?â you smile a bit. his eyes hurt with the sight.
jonathan stiffens. for a moment he swears heâs just shat himself. what are you doing, inviting him to a party because of his brother? his brother, whom until recently, was the biggest worry of the whole town?
and yet.
you give him a small smile â as if youâre at the same level of disgusting freak as he is. he canât accept such kindness so he looks away.
âyou should go,â you nudge him playfully, âgive your mum some peace and quiet.â
he scratches the back of his neck, which is now burning as well as his ears. ââŚyeah. o-okay.â
your smile widens a bit. âokay. bye, byers.â then you walk away.
heâs just standing there, trying not to fall onto the ground with how much his knees are trembling. his heart is beating so fast, he places a hand above it so it doesnât run away.
his mind is reeling. he runs to his car, goes back homeâ there was no point in staying at school if he wasnât going to pay attention.
he spends all afternoon choosing his clothes.
itâs not like heâs got a whole closet, filled to the brim with fancy clothes â some of them, kept in his small wardrobe, are his dadâs old ones.
and finally, after much thought, jonathan settles in a white t-shirt and a brown jacket, paired with washed-out jeans that look a tad bit loose on him.
or should he go with the brown t-shirt and the blue jacket? which one would you prefer? not that heâs trying to impress you, of course, but itâs be nice to be wearing something else other than his usual clothes. not that heâs got fancy ones, thoughâ
âjonathan!â willâs scream echoes through the room for a second, a second long enough to make him snap out of it. âcome on, itâs almost 8! we need to leave!â
quickly, jonathan opts for the brown t-shirt and grabs his keys in a frenzy.
woefully, his jacket stays behind. jonathan only remembers that when heâs at nancy wheelerâs doorstep. her house is very gorgeous â two big floors and a beautiful entrance. girls on film is playing faintly, though the music grows louder the closer he gets.
inside, will does not demonstrate any sign of hesitation or shyness due to the amount of people there and is quick to run to the wheelersâ basement, where mikeâs high-pitched voice greets him. jonathan, on the other hand, is very hesitant about stepping inside.
until you appear like his guardian angel. again, wearing that stupidly bright smile on your face and a solo cup in your hand. âhi, byers! i didnât think youâd actually show up.â
he shrugs, looks around, locks eyes with tommy hagan. his heart sinks so low his gaze drops to the floor to check if it didnât fall off his body.
âyeah, i- uh-â he looks up again, looks at your face, the same face he thinks about when heâs going to bed, the same face thatâs engraved behind his eyelids whenever he blinks, the same face he thinks about when heâs got a hand inside his boxers and itâs covered in thick, white, gooeyâ
âi kinda had to.â kinda had to stop thinking, that is. stop, jonathan byers. you are a respectful man. he smiles slightly, and were you not looking at him intently, you wouldnât have noticed.
you chuckle. âcome on, grab a drink!â
he nods, and walks away from you. the moment he does, haganâs got his hand on your wrist, gripped tight.
âwhat the fuck was that?â he whispers through gritted, ugly teeth. his grip on your wrist, once so horrible, is now deadly.
âtommy, stop,â you mumble, freeing your limb from his grasp. âhe came here because of his brother. iâm just⌠trying to be friendly,â you shrug.
âfriendly?! with that fuckinâ freak?!â
âcâmon, heâs not a freakââ
unsurprisingly, he cuts you off, spitting, âyou being friends with fucking nancy wheelerâs not enough?! are you a whore who likes to fuck freaks, perchance?!â, and thatâs when you get really defensive.
you shoot back, much louder than necessary (probably on purpose), âshut up, tommy! stop being such a cunt!â
at that, he stops, places his drink on the table before raising his hand again. he slaps you across the face â sharp. loud. sure to leave a mark.
you gasp. thatâs the first time heâs ever slapped you in public. you feel beyond horrified â you feel humiliated.
you canât close your mouth. a small whimper comes out, and he growls, âwhat?â, then you start crying and run upstairs.
jonathan saw everything. and, oh â he canât imagine saying this about anyone, because that would mean theyâre much more miserable than him â how his heart breaks for you. it breaks into a billion pieces. he canât understand why someone as perfect as you would stay with tommy hagan. how do you even handle him?
he hesitates for a second. takes a step forward, then back, sighs, decides to run upstairs.
he finds you in nancyâs room, the door open about three inches. youâre sat in her bed, knees close to your chest, hands in your face. youâre crying â absolutely bawling your eyes out, snot running down your nose as you miserably fail to make it stop.
he knocks lightly.
âfuck off, tommy!â you yell, slurring a bit.
ââŚsorry,â jonathanâs voice comes instead. you panic, quick to wipe your tears away.
oh.
âcome in, byers,â you whisper, wiping your nose with your cardigan before taking it off. normally, youâd consider that disgusting, but you couldnât care less now.
hesitantly, he steps inside the room with a quiet, âdo you want me to close the door?â. when you nod, he does as suggested.
âiâm sorry you had to see that,â you mumble, playing with the lace trim of nancyâs pillow.
jonathan shakes his head and sits down on the floor, leaning his back against the bedframe. ââs fine. if anything, iâm.. iâm sorry you had to go through that.â
at his comment, you smile a bit. he sees and has to look away before the brightness burns his eyes and heâs left permanently blind.
âwhy do you stay with him?â he asks. he didnât really want to say it out loud, but itâs out there now.
you sniffle and lay down. âi donât know. for one, heâs got a big dick,â â you laugh, and both the comment and the sound make jonathan flush, although he must admit he feels a tad bit jealous â âand heâs very⌠i donât know. he buys me things.â â another pang of jealousy gnaws at him. with his current job, heâs got enough money to pay half the bills and buy a box of cheap chocolates for his family.
âi feel bad saying this, but i guess iâm with him mainly because heâs⌠popular.â
that makes him look up. âwhat do you mean?â
âi donât know. i guess i just wanted to be popular too. i always resented him and steve at first, but deep down i wanted to be just like them. and then nancy started dating steve, so she kind of dragged me along, and then i started dating tommy.â
he hums.
âworst decision of my life,â you whisper, and you both laugh.
sighing, you move your body to the side and curl your legs, making room for him to sit. that is, if he wants to.
âdonât you want to be popular, jonathan?â you ask. thatâs he first time youâve said his name. his heart flutters wildly in his chest.
âi am.â
you smile. âwhat do you mean?â
âeveryone calls me jonathan âthe freakâ byers. plus, just look at my brother. heâs a local celebrity.â
your smile falters a bit. âwell, i suppose youâre right about will. but youâre not a freak. i donât think so, at least.â
he looks at you, surprised, almost startled. âyou donât?â
âno.â
âwow. girlfriend of tommy hagan does not think jonathan byers is a freak.â
you laugh at that. out loud. makes his heart ache.
âwell, tell me what makes you a freak, then.â
he goes quiet.
then, after a moment: ââŚi donât know.â
âthen why are you a freak?â
no answer. you frown. âyouâre not.â
ââŚitâs weird hearing that coming from someone besides my mom.â
you both laugh, again.
you sit up, leaning against the headboard, and pat the space beneath your feet. âsit.â
he hesitantly supports his weight on the bed and pushes his body up, sitting down on the bed with extra care.
heâs painfully awkward. shifts his weight constantly, and when you teasingly tell him to calm down, for âhis socks are on fireâ, he just gets more nervous. had it not been such an endearing sight, you wouldâve almost felt bad.
âyou know, jonathan,â you prop yourself on one elbow, âi like you. youâre nice.â
he flushes beet fucking red. covers his face and pretends heâs simply itching both eyes.
you smile and lean closer, now sat up on the bed. from his place, he can see your skin is flushed as well â not from embarrassment, though. youâre drunk. he thinks, for a moment, that maybe that is the reason you said all of those things.
still, you are so beautiful. oh, god. heâs going to die. he canât get over the fact heâs in the same place as you. alone.
slowly, he leans back, awkward. âthank- thank you.â
you lean in closer still, hand moving to his knee. jonathan almost jumps out of bed at the contact. your breath is warm and smells like moscow mule. well, it smells more like an attempt at the drink, but either way, it smells delicious.
youâre drunk on alcohol and heâs drunk on you.
âcâmere,â you whisper, leaning in. in the two seconds he hesitates, his mind reels.
this is wrong. this is too wrong â you are a beautiful, smart girl, you have no business fooling around with him. you have a boyfriend, you have money, youâre popular. you have everything any girl could ever ask for and more. he should go. he should run like hell out of that room, grab will by the arm and go home.
still.
he canât resist you. so, as any other boy would, he leans in and instantly melts into what is not even a kiss yet.
your hands tremble a bit as they move to his shoulders, the right one skimming to the back of his neck and into his hair. after much thought, you give it a try to gently pry his mouth open with your tongue. much to your delight, he surrenders.
noticing his struggle to kiss with tongue, you place both hands on his arms, tethering him, asking to take the lead. the moment he calms down, you suck on his tongue a bit and he moans. have you ever heard such a delectable sound coming from tommy? although, jonathan feels so stupid for letting that slip. he wants to die.
your hands slide down to his knees and you gently pull away from the kiss to look into his eyes. he hesitates, which makes you pull away.
âwait, donâtââ he whispers, almost whines. you bite your lip to keep from smiling. he cringes at his own words, but keeps talking nevertheless. ââŚplease.â
at that, you bring your hands back to his knees, sliding up his thighs. looking into his eyes again, he panics and blurts out, âwait, iâve never done this!â
your eyes almost jump out of your skull. âhuh?â
âiâm sorry, i shouldâve told you sooner, iââ
âno, jonathan, âs fine, itâs fine. iâm just.. surprised, is all, i guess.â to be honest, youâre not surprised. you would be more surprised if he actually had sex once.
âhave you ever kissed, at least? before.. this, i mean.â
at that, he looks down. you smile a bit too widely.
âitâs okay.â
again, you look into his eyes. he nods this time.
you look down at his pants â now slightly tented â and hesitate for a brief second before you start to undo his belt. by that time, his beating is uneven and his heart is flying, like one over the cuckooâs nest.
heâs leaned back, trying not to look at your face but failing. you look extremely endearing â brows knit in concentration, tongue out to the side, hands trembling a bit. maybe youâre not as nervous as him, but you still are.
finally, you free him.
jonathanâs cock is⌠gorgeous, to say the least. itâs above average (which already wins from tommy), girthy, fat, heavy, pubic hair untamed, yet cared for. itâs got a large vein down the sides which, if you look at harder, youâll see they throb. his tip is very pink, and you believe itâs natural even though heâs flushed all over, and the base of it is hidden with the tiniest bit of foreskin.
you breathe out in anticipation and agony of not having done this sooner.
you look up at him, and though his face is turned away, he still gives you a light nod, assuring you.
you linger paused for a second before you bring a hand to his cock and gives it a light stroke. he gasps, hips jumping at the contact. you smile, lightly, and give it another stroke. then you make the (un)fortunate decision to spit on it. the moment the wet liquid glazes jonathanâs tip, he lets out a humiliating whimper. itâs almost enough to make you come undone, walls clenching around the air.
âjonathan,â you lean in for another kiss, and when you pull away, you continue speaking, âhelp me get off these clothes. please.â
he gulps loudly but is eager to please, quickly, he unbuttons your blouse and reveals the smooth, radiant skin of your stomach. he touches it and his mouth opens slightly, delighted. you lean in to kiss him again.
quickly taking your hands off him â the poor boy whines yet again â you take your blouse off your shoulders before you unclasp your bra and throw it somewhere on the floor along with the other fabric.
jonathan, in all the years heâs been around, has never seen such beautiful tits. he wants to cry just looking at them.
your hands are back at it, stroking his cock gently, sliding the soft pad of your thumb over his swollen tip. precum gathers there quite rapidly, and when you squeeze his shaft, more comes out along with a small whimper from his parted, swollen lips.
âso good,â you coo, picking up speed, your free hand traveling down to his balls and lightly cradling them. he moans a bit too loud and you look at him with wide eyes â a warning to make him shut up. then, you smile.
âtouch me, câmon,â you whisper, sitting close to him so he can unzip your shorts. he takes a while to understand he has to do that, but the moment he catches up, he obliges instantly. you lift your hips to help him take of your shorts, squeezing his cock again (he canât tell if that was on purpose or not), which makes him let out another delectable sigh.
the moment his hand slips beneath your lace panties, past the soft curls that lay on your mound and into your wet, warm core, he stiffens. itâs like heâs entered a whole new world. your folds are so slick, making his fingers slide with ease against them. and when he slides two digits inside you, the both of you gasp. your hand slides quicker now, eager to bring him to his orgasm. you wonder how cute heâll look. he is, too, very eager to see your face scrunch up as you come.
he is delighted to see that sight happen the moment he thinks of it.
your hips buck, you bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud, and you come. you come so sweetly.
at the sight, he does too â coating your hands with his warm, thick seed. you gasp, âfuck.â
you melt on top of the bed, now laying down, pulling him with you. he collapses atop you, desperate to slide his dick inside your messy folds. he props himself up on his knees, gathers his slippery cock on his hand, and slides into you. well, he tries â hits your clit. tries again â pushes past your mound and nudges your abdomen. again â your thigh. you laugh.
âjon,â you purr, âcalm down.â what the fuck are you saying? how is he meant to calm down? how is he going to be calm as he fucks the girl heâs been drooling on for so long? âsorry.â
suddenly, in a swift move, he buries himself inside you. to the halt. actually hits your cervix. you cry out, but before you can be any louder, youâve got both hands covering your lips.
âcâmon,â you mumble, though itâs muffled. âcâmon, byers, fuck me.â
fuck me. fuck me. fuck me. that echoes in his head for so long heâs sure heâs going crazy. but he is, of course, eager to please. especially now.
he places both hands around your waist and reluctantly begins thrusting. the moment he feels such tight, fleshy walls clench around him, suffocating his cock, his head falls forward and he drools onto your stomach. âf-fuck, oh my godââ
he begins thrusting faster, and though for him itâs already too much, you wish heâd pace up. still, itâs his first time â you wonât bug him too much about your own pleasure.
âjon, honey, play with my clit,â you mewl.
âwhat?â he breathes out.
ââŚmy clit.â you point to the little button between your thighs, swollen. he nods.
eagerly, he grabs the pearl and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger, his thrusts getting more erratic. you can tell heâs close, yet again.
âfuck, yeah,â you whimper, âfuck, yeah, byers.â
at that, his face scrunches up, concentrated, and he fucks you even harder. gosh, you can feel your brains leaking through both your ears.
then, suddenly. you see but a white flash, and before you know it, your legs are quivering and your hips are bucking again. jonathan, all the while, is fucking his fist with such violence you donât know if he wants to get his rocks off or rip his rocks off. a long rope of semen lays on your abdomen, then another one on your stomach, and the final one (and thickest, too) between your pillowly breasts.
you sigh, delighted, lightheaded, and you signal him to take his shirt off so you can clean yourself. jonathan does so instantly.
afterwards, you pull him on top of you and turn to your side. the pair of you are bare naked, his cock softening inside you though it has no plans of leaving.
you look him in the eyes, and you whisper, âdid ya like that?â
he just nods. he canât even get his words out otherwise heâll moan and he canât handle any more humiliation.
itâs a girl .á
eddie munson girl dad hcs
Ę girl dad eddie who subconsiously cares for his own hair after his sweet baby asked him to braid hers. he finds the task to be a tad difficult, as her hair has the same curly, untamed texture as his, but since then, heâs been practicing on himself.
Ę girl dad eddie who lets himself get his nails painted and his makeup done. he plays the character of a princess so well, too.
Ę girl dad eddie who, no matter how tired he is, will always wake up at around 2 or 3 in the morning to check on his girl. what if the monsters under her bed are real, after all?
Ę girl dad eddie who displays every little drawing on the fridgeâ whether itâs a random tree, or himself as a stick figure with noodle-like hair. everything goes on the fridge!
Ę girl dad eddie who decides to finally open a textbook to study so that, when his girlâs got homework, he knows a thing or two about what heâs talking about. also realised how fun history actually is!!!
Ę girl dad eddie who will not hesitate to flirt with every teacher that pets his daughterâs head, even though most of them are either already married, or simply amused. surprisingly, he manages to get a date or two.

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MY MAN ON WILLPOWER steve harrington x fem!reader (wc: 5.0k)
summary: steve harrington used to be literally obsessed with you, but youâre suddenly the least sought after girl in the land â or at least in hawkins. warnings: pre-established relationship, set during season 5, no use of y/n, angst with comfort, swearing, non-sexual nudity, mentions of sex but no smut, miscommunication, use of pet names (honey, baby).
â
steve harrington was the blueprint of a perfect boyfriend.
keyword: was.
he always called every morning and night. always held your hand in crowds, and he drove you everywhere, even when you said he didnât have to. heâd take you out for dinner, or sometimes heâd attempt to cook you dinner himself.
he took care of you in every way he could. he clung to your side every day, and held you close each night. you didnât know how any of that could ever change.
you had started dating just a couple months before the earthquake that split your small town of hawkins, indiana four ways to sunday. back in january of 1986, steve harrington had been, at least in your eyes, the most perfect man on earth.
you had met him the same way he met most of his dates back then, by walking into family video, where he had been working at the time.
sure, you had heard of steve harrington before that. you went to hawkins high between the years of 1981 and 1985, after all. everyone knew 'king steve', even after he had lost the title, the friends, and the popularity, he wasn't exactly forgettable.
đakewhimsyâs đasterlist âš
ęŤÂ á´á á´ for smut !
drowning lessons .⌠ÝË eddie munson ęŤÂ á´á á´
our house .⌠ÝË eddie munson ęŤÂ á´á á´
girl dad hcs .⌠ÝË eddie munson
eddie drabble ęŤÂ á´á á´
mistake .⌠ÝË jonathan byers ęŤÂ á´á á´
junkie .⌠ÝË jim hopper ęŤÂ á´á á´
most exalted pout fri 13th, mexico
my precious angel
teenage dirtbag
your boyfriendâs a dick.
pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader
cw: smut | PinV (unprotected), cheating, no prep, squirting, let me know if i forgot any.
"and i just don't get it, man!" eddie's hands fly through the air, nearly smacking a half-empty beer bottle off steve's coffee table. he's been pacing for the last ten minutes, a frantic, caged-animal energy radiating off him. "her? with him? it's like, it's like a bad romcom. a really, really bad one. one where you can see the ending from a mile away and the ending sucks."
steve, slouched into the couch cushions, just sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "eddie, i know. i'm her brother. i have to sit at dinner and watch him talk about his lacrosse stats. it's torture."
"exactly! torture!" eddie points a finger at steve, as if he's just been proven right in a court of law. "see? steve gets it. he's my twin! he has the same dna! he knows that this is not her. this is not⌠this is not our girl."
robin, perched on the arm of the couch, takes a slow sip from her bottle. "okay, but has anyone considered that maybe she just⌠likes the guy? that he's nice and he makes her happy?"
eddie stops pacing to stare at her, a look of utter betrayal on his face. "robin. robin, no. you're not listening. he's not 'nice.' he's⌠beige. he's a walking, talking polo shirt. he probably thinks 'stairway to heaven' is the only led zeppelin song in existence. he doesn't see her. he sees the prom queen. he sees the perfect harrington daughter."
he slumps down onto the floor, leaning his back against the couch, right next to steve's legs. he runs a hand through his hair, making it even more chaotic than usual. "i know her, rob. better than anyone. i know the way she bites her lip when she's trying not to laugh at a dirty joke. i know she can quote the entire evil dead trilogy but pretends she doesn't know who the president is to get out of conversations. i know she hates the smell of chlorine and that her favorite shirt is the faded black ramones one she stole from my closet sophomore year."
he looks up at steve, his voice dropping a little, losing the frantic edge and turning into something softer, more frustrated. "she's not happy. you see it, right? the way she smiles? it doesn't reach her eyes anymore. it's the same smile she used to give our dad's business associates when he'd drag us to those stupid company picnics. the 'yes, sir, i'm a perfect daughter' smile. it's a mask."
steve nods grimly, staring into his beer bottle. "dad's been on her case since graduation. 'it's time to think about your future, steven.'âhe still calls me steven, by the wayâ'you need to find a nice boy from a good family.' jock mcdreamy over there checks all the boxes. pre-med, father's a doctor, perfect teeth."
"perfect teeth," eddie scoffs, kicking his leg out. "who gives a shit about perfect teeth? i care about the little chip in her front incisor from when she tried to skateboard down the harrington driveway in seventh grade and ate shit. i care about the fact that she thinks black sabbath is overrated but will listen to master of reality with me anyway because she knows i love it. this guy⌠he probably listens to fucking genesis."
"hey, genesis has some bangers," robin mutters, but eddie and steve both ignore her.
"it's a performance," eddie says, his voice tight. "the whole thing. the perfect apartment, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect future she's building for everyone but herself. she's suffocating in it. and i just have to stand there and watch her date the human equivalent of a participation trophy because it's easier than fighting her dad."
the days bled into a familiar, hazy rhythm of late-night shifts at the video store and even later nights crashed out on eddie's trailer couch. tonight, the air inside was thick and sweet with the acrid smell of weed, the smoke curling around the christmas lights strung along the ceiling. you were pressed up against his side, his arm a heavy, warm weight around your shoulders as you passed a blunt back and forth, the embers glowing like angry little stars in the dim light.
"so," he started, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your ribs. he took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out in a slow, deliberate stream towards the ceiling. "brad." he said the name like it was a bad taste in his mouth. "how's⌠brad?â
you sighed, the sound swallowed by the trailer's stuffy air. you took the blunt from his fingers, your own hands feeling a little clumsy, a little distant. "he's fine, eddie. he's brad." you couldn't put much energy into it. you couldn't ever, when it came to brad.
"no, he's not," eddie countered, turning his head to look at you properly. his eyes, usually so full of manic energy, were soft and intense, pinning you in place. "you're fine. you're⌠you're putting on a show. i know that look. it's the same one you used to give your dad's golf buddies. but you're not happy. i can see it. you think i can't?"
the high was making everything feel more profound, more raw. the walls you'd carefully built around the truth felt thin, flimsy. you looked away, focusing on a particularly interesting water stain on the ceiling. "he's what my dad wants," you admitted, the words feeling heavy as they left your lips. "he's⌠safe. predictable. he's going to be a doctor, or a lawyer, or some other thing that sounds good at a cocktail party. it makes my dad proud. it's easier this way."
eddie sat up, dislodging your head from his shoulder but immediately taking your face in his hands. his thumbs stroked over your cheekbones, his touch impossibly gentle. "easier for who? for him? for your dad? what about you? what do you want?" his voice was a desperate, pleading thing. "i know what you want. i know you. i know the girl who snuck out to go see a horror movie marathon with me even though she had a sat the next day. i know the girl who thinks my stupid d&ds campaigns are cool. that's you. not this⌠this porcelain doll version of you that's dating some asshole named brad."
the tears you hadn't realized were threatening finally spilled over, hot and silent. you leaned into his touch, your whole body feeling like it was crumbling. "i don't know how to be that girl and still make them happy," you whispered.
"hey," he murmured, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "look at me." you did, losing yourself in the endless, worried pools of his eyes. "you don't have to choose. not with me. you can be everything you are with me. the smart, the weird, the sad, the horny⌠all of it. just let me see you. please."
that was all it took. the permission, the desperate need in his voice. you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his. it wasn't soft or sweet. it was hungry, desperate, a year's worth of unspoken feelings and frustration pouring out into one messy, open-mouthed kiss. he groaned into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that went straight to your core, his hands sliding from your face into your hair, tangling in the strands and holding you close like he was afraid you might disappear.
he maneuvered you both until you were lying back on his worn-out couch, his body covering yours, a welcome, heavy weight. he broke the kiss only to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes going wide, his breath hitching in his throat as he stared down at your chest. "fuck," he breathed, the word a reverent prayer. "look at you. christ, you're perfect." he was obsessed, always had been, and the high was stripping away any last shred of his restraint. his hands were everywhere, tracing the lace of your bra, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, already hard and straining against the fabric. "i've thought about this. so many times. you have no idea."
he made quick work of the clasp, his hands trembling slightly as he freed your breasts. he just looked for a moment, his gaze so hot and intense it made your skin feel like it was burning. "so fucking pretty," he whispered, leaning down to take one peak into his mouth. his tongue was a wet, velvet heat, swirling and teasing, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make you gasp. his other hand palmed your other breast, squeezing and kneading, utterly lost in the feel of you. "god, i love your tits," he moaned around your nipple, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. "love them so much."
he fumbled with the button of his jeans, shoving them down just enough to free himself. your eyes, hazy and lust-blown, drifted down, and your breath caught. he was big, thick and heavy in his own grasp, the tip flushed a dark, angry purple. he saw you looking and a cocky, breathless grin spread across his face. "yeah, baby? you see what you do to me? been hard for you since i was sixteen."
he settled between your legs, guiding himself to your entrance. "gonna take care of you," he promised, his voice thick with emotion and desire. "gonna make you feel so good." he pushed inside, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, and the stretch was exquisite, a deep, full ache that had you arching your back. he watched your face the entire time, his expression a mixture of awe and pure, unadulterated lust. "that's it," he groaned, his voice strained. "fuck, you're so tight. taking me so well. such a good girl for me."
he started to move, his hips rolling in a steady, deep rhythm that had you seeing stars. the couch creaked in time with his thrusts, the slick sounds of your bodies joining filling the small room. he was vocal, letting out these beautiful, broken moans every time he buried himself to the hilt. "oh, fuck⌠feels so good⌠you're so wet for me, baby⌠all for me." his hands were still on your breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles over your nipples, pinching and pulling just the way you liked it. the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightened, faster and faster, until you were a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him. "i know," he panted, sensing you were close. "i know, baby. let go. come on my cock. wanna feel you."
his words, his voice, the overwhelming feeling of him everywhere was too much. your orgasm crashed over you, a blinding, all-consuming wave that left you gasping and trembling. your inner walls clenched around him, and that was his undoing. with a loud, guttural cry of your name, he pulled out, his hand fisting around his cock as he stroked himself once, twice, before he came, hot and thick, painting your chest and stomach in stripes of white. he collapsed beside you, breathing hard, his eyes fixed on the mess he'd made on your skin. "holy shit," he whispered, his voice full of awe. "look at that. so pretty covered in my cum."
he was insatiable. after a moment, he was on you again, his mouth claiming yours in a messy, possessive kiss as he manhandled you onto your stomach. "not done," he growled against your lips. "need more of you." he grabbed your hips, pulling you up onto your knees, and you felt him, hard and ready again, nudging at your entrance from behind. this time, there was no slow build. he slammed into you, the force of it pushing the air from your lungs. the new angle was devastating, hitting a spot deep inside you that made your toes curl.
he set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the trailer. one of his hands tangled in your hair, pulling your head back just enough, the other gripping your hip so tightly you knew you'd have bruises tomorrow. "you like that?" he grunted, his voice rough with exertion. "like it when i fuck you hard? like it when i own this pussy?" his words were filthy, but they were exactly what you needed. you could only moan in response, pushing back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. "that's my girl," he praised, his rhythm faltering slightly. "take it. fuck, i'm gonna cum⌠gonna fill you up⌠you want that? want my cum inside you?"
"yes," you sobbed, pushing your face into the couch cushions. "please, eddie."
with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep and came again, a long, low moan tearing from his throat as he spilled inside you, the heat of his release flooding your senses. he stayed there for a moment, draped over your back, his breath hot and ragged against your shoulder. then he was pulling out, flipping you over with surprising strength.
he was flipping you over with surprising strength, manhandling you like you weighed nothing until you were straddling his lap, your knees sinking into the worn couch cushions on either side of his hips. his chest was heaving, his face flushed and shining with a thin layer of sweat, but his eyes were burning with a renewed, feral intensity. "my turn to watch," he panted, his hands gripping your waist, his thumbs stroking the skin there. "ride me. wanna see you use me to get yourself off. wanna see you fall apart on my cock."
the blunt, the orgasms, the sheer overwhelming reality of finally having him like this had you feeling pliant and powerful all at once. you braced your hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle there, and lifted your hips. you reached between your bodies, taking his still-hard, slick cock in your hand and guiding the head to your entrance. you were dripping, a mix of your own arousal and his release, and he slid inside you with a wet, easy glide that made you both moan. you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch, reveling in the guttural sound he made as you enveloped him completely, his hips bucking up involuntarily.
"fuck, that's it," he choked out, his head falling back against the couch cushions. his eyes were glued to the place where your bodies joined, watching as you started to move. you set a slow, rolling rhythm at first, grinding your hips in circles, feeling every thick, hard ridge of him inside you. his hands roamed up your back, tracing the line of your spine before coming around to cup your breasts again. he couldn't seem to get enough of them, his palms fitting perfectly against their weight, his fingers teasing your nipples. "look at you," he breathed, his voice full of worship. "so fucking beautiful. riding me like you were made for it. you were, weren't you? made for me."
his words, his gaze, the way he was completely at your mercyâit was a heady, intoxicating cocktail. you started to move faster, bouncing on his lap, the sound of your bodies meeting growing louder, wetter. the coil of pleasure was winding tight again, impossibly fast, a deep, throbbing pressure building deep in your core. you could feel his release from before, a warm, slick presence inside you, and with every downward thrust, the head of his cock was pressing against that sensitive spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"that's it, baby, just like that," he encouraged, his voice a ragged, breathless moan. "use me. fuck yourself on my cock. wanna feel you cum again. wanna feel you soak me." one of his hands left your breast and slid down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, merciless circles. the added stimulation was your undoing. it was too much, too perfect. your rhythm faltered, your movements becoming jerky and desperate as your orgasm barreled through you. it wasn't just a wave this time; it was a tsunami. a blinding, explosive rush that stole your breath and your vision.
you cried out his name, your body convulsing, and then you felt itâa sudden, gushing release. a powerful jet of fluid that soaked his lap, his stomach, his cock. you were squirting, pushing his own cum out of you with the force of your orgasm, the evidence of your shared pleasure flooding the both of you. the sensation was so intense, so unexpected, that it prolonged your climax, leaving you a trembling, sobbing mess above him.
eddie froze beneath you, his eyes wide with shock and utter, unadulterated awe. a slow, wicked grin spread across his face as he felt the hot wetness coating him. "holy fucking shit," he breathed, his voice filled with reverence. "did you⌠did you just�" he didn't even finish the question. he just grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him one last time, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. he came with a hoarse shout, his body arching up off the couch as he pumped into you, adding to the mess between your legs.
you collapsed against his chest, completely spent, your body limp and trembling. his arms came around you immediately, holding you tight against his hammering heart. you could feel the wetness seeping into both of your skin, the sticky, combined evidence of everything you had just done. after a long moment, he started to laugh, a low, breathless, utterly delighted sound. he pressed a kiss to your sweat-damp hair, his hands stroking lazily up and down your back.
"jesus christ," he whispered, his voice still rough with sex. "we made a fucking mess." he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes soft and full of an emotion so deep it made your chest ache. "you're incredible," he murmured, his thumb gently wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "absolutely fucking incredible. and you're never dating that brad asshole again. you hear me? you're stuck with me."
đakewhimsyâs đuidelines ἍáĄ.Ö´ÖśÖ¸đ
đđ the majority of my fics are nsfw , so minors , please do not interact with my content ! be mindful of your consumption on the internet. also dni if youâre racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, a tr*mp supporter.. overall if you hate someone because theyâre not a white cis male just donât fucking bother.
đđ i donât do requests or stuff like that, although i love hearing ideas! <3
đđ ask to be moots or dm me !!! i promise i am very kewl
đđ please be nice to me if you want me to be nice to you !!! if youâre mean, i will either ignore you, or simply be mean back.

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âi never see you at the clubâ ok well i never see you on ao3 at 2am reading about the same two bitches falling in love for the 1000th time in the 500th way
i wish i could be at an 80s prom right now with eddie dancing to fleetwood mac and prince but nooo
i just read a fic that was SO CLEARLYYYY ai omfg son đđđđđđđđ
lipstick â e. munson
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k
synopsis: you bite the bullet and ask out your best friend, eddie, whom you have feelings for. only eddie doesnât think he deserves you and does what he does best - self sabotage.
warnings: angst, eddie is dumb as hell in this Iâm sorry, eddieâs abandonment issues, reader is described to wear makeup and a dress, a little dash of fluff in the beginning but it goes down hill fast, angsty ending, probably mediocre writing because itâs been years and Iâm rusty, lmk if I missed anything! inspired by the line from washing machine heart by mitski.
a/n: my first time posting a fic in a while so apologies if itâs not up to par with my older writing. the new st season has me wanting to write so Iâm hoping this gets the ball rolling. I was originally writing this as a spencer reid fic but I thought it fit better for eddie. though iâm not opposed to posting the spencer one. the ending to this is a little sad but Iâm open to writing a part 2 if enough people want it! (edit: part two has been posted!)
masterlist
⍠Iâm not wearing my usual lipstick / I thought maybe we would kiss tonight âŤ
You were gonna do it.
You were gonna ask out Eddie Munson.
After months of pining and lamenting to your friends about how cute and sweet Eddie was, they had finally convinced you to take the plunge and ask him out.
âEddie is literally head over heels for you! I swear thereâs nowhere you go that his big baby cow eyes donât follow you.â Robin says, sitting upside down on Steveâs couch, head of mousy blonde hair hanging off the edge.
Steve shoots her a weird look, repeating the phrase âbaby cow eyesâ under his breath until he thinks about it enough to raise his eyebrows in agreement. âRobinâs right-and I donât say that often. Munson worships the ground you walk on, itâs kinda pathetic actually.â

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iâve got my eye on you
eddie munson x henderson cheerleader!reader
summary: Eddie has become obsessed with his new friendâs sister.
warnings: weed smoking, fingering. wc: 3.2k
notes: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote years ago, itâs by the same name but under a different blog. anyways, i changed quite a lot of it and personally think this is much better. * reader not knowing about orgasms is period accuracy and eddie knowing about them is just extremely inaccurate.
this fanfic shit is easy (tour specific edition)
me writing