eddie drabble ✦ minorsdni !
author’s note ♥︎ guess who’s ovulating…….
i like to think of eddie as the guy who tries so hard to hold back a little noise when he’s got just the tip inside you, and when he slides it all in and you whine, “make a little noise, eds,” he sighs.
you know— and he does, too— that’s not what you meant. eddie is so loud, he knows it gets you going, why’s he so quiet just now? now, after you’ve finally seen him after that crawl where he almost died, and you were so worried, but then he reassured you with the best oral sex you’ve ever had, ever.
why is he being so cruel?
you look down at him from your current position and think about pulling away before you decide not to— what’s the point if you’re just going to have to get used to all that girth again?— but still. you squeeze his cheek to make him open his eyes.
“what’s wrong sugar?” he hums, placing his hands on your hips, traveling down to squeeze your thighs.
son of a bitch, he smirks! is he up to something?! okay, he’s totally up to something.
your eyebrows furrow and you lean back for a moment, “what’s so funny?”
“nothin’, sugar, baby,” he whispers, still with that stupid smirk on his face. gosh, you want to slap him. but he likes that, so you don’t. although, he would understand the difference between an angry slap and a sexy one, wouldn’t he? but, then again, he’d be turned on nonetheless.
“c’mon,” he thrusts his hips up and you gasp, trying so hard, yet failing miserably, to resist the temptation, your hips meeting his with the second thrust, “i’ll make noise, if that’s what you want. c’mon, baby, ride me,” eddie gives your ass a light slap as if to signal you to move again. you oblige, of course.
you should’ve known better. it’s never your way with eddie munson.
when he thrusts up for the fifth time, and is almost balls-deep inside of you, he groans.
he groans loudly. like, super loud. i actually can’t emphasize how loud the noise he makes is.
your head, usually thrown back, is now facing him with a startled expression. what the fuck is he doing?
“eddie, stop,” you whisper-moan, “the— hahh— the neighbours—“
“fuuuuck, baby,” he moans (again, as loud as his dumb ass can), throwing his head back and hitting the headboard with a loud thump. despite yourself, you chortle.
“oh my god, oh, baby,” a loud grunt, along with a sharp slap on your ass that echoes through his trailer.
then, a gasp when his tip hits your cervix (you can’t really fault him then, for you’re also quite loud when it happens).
“eddie,” you whine as quietly as you can, “i’m— i’m gonna— cumming—“
“oh, yeah, girl,” he roars, “cum f’me, yeah— mmph— gonna fill you up, oh— fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuck—“ with a final thrust, he comes, his seed spurting inside your walls.
sighing, you lay atop him, and fall asleep.
you and eddie are abruptly awoken by the sound of passive-aggressive knocking on the living room door. groaning, you pull his soft shaft out of you and grab your panties from his floor, sliding them on along with eddie’s dio shirt.
you open the door and close your eyes briefly, eyes stinging from the sudden brightness of the sun. “ugh, what time is it..?”
“a bit past 8,” mrs. willer, eddie’s neighbour, replies.
she’s a total bitch— blonde hair totally fried from her incessant bleaching, that stupid drawn-on mole on her upper lip that she thinks it makes her look like marilyn monroe (with that hair? jesus, poor marilyn), and her horrendous dress with flowers imprinted on it, that don’t even look like flowers. overall, her existence bothers you, and you hate living on the other side of hawkins, away from eddie, but she makes it worth it.
“which means,” she places her hands on her waist, “i got only four hours of sleep last night.”
you frown. “mrs. miller, i’m sorry—“
“you know what? i won’t even bother. just ask your stupid junkie boyfriend to tone it down next time.”
the moment she steps away with her back turned, you flip her off and silently scream “fucking bitch” to her.
you close the door and turn around. you’re met with the impact of eddie’s chest on your face. he looks down at you with a smirk. the exact same smirk from yesterday.
like & reblog if you liked this!!! show me some love ♥︎ (ew is this begging?! i’m sorry) also mrs miller was inspired on my 9th grade english teacher…. gosh i hate that bitch
