DJ LANDO

no bc that drabble about soft sex with eddie has done something to me augie-

i had a (basically prophetic) vision of riding eddie and like holding his hands like that way where ur fingers are linked and ur like FULLY holding his hands and ur fingers are in between each of his and its just so cute and you both can't stop smiling and lszidufhlifuisjks

(i think the brain rot has finally gotten to me, babe)

-jorj👻

18+ mdni NO BECAUSE i told myself i wouldn't write other things until i finished this 20k fluff BUT

somehow bauhaus's third uncle had moans and grunts and skins slapping now. it had eddie's delirious groans, your high-pitched whimpers and the applaud of your flesh as you bounce on your lover's lap with all the vigor you've mustered.

"that's it, baby," eddie's head throws back against the couch, his hair sticking to his bare chest, an ophidian curl covering the demon right above his heart. he watches his cock disappear in and out of your gummy cunt, his hairy thighs sticky with your mixed arousals. "keep bouncing that pretty body,"

you do. with your hands on his shoulders, fingers loosely tangled in his disheveled mullet, your own hair moved to one side over your left collarbone that just makes the right side of your face so ethereal with the glisten of your sweat; eyes scrunched in ecstasy as your plump lips exude moans that eddie finds himself getting harder if possible.

"fuckin' ozzy, eds," ozzy, his own term for god in his own blissful moments that you'd picked up from him. your boyfriend smiles in his heavy gaze, lips lazy and yearning. "feels s-so good."

your head throws back, presents him his own purple-yellow art work created by love bites and starved sucklings. and he finds himself leaning up to press ever-so chaste kisses onto your neck, riding his lips up to your collarbone until he finds your wet lips.

he kisses you. feverish, hot, amorous. in that frenzied moment, he kisses you like you're in a field up a hill beneath the morphing clouds. with blooming flowers tickling your ankles and the ruffles of your dress grazing his knees exposed from his ripped jeans; like you're not both naked, covered in slick and producing wet squelches from your wild sexes. no, he kisses you, righteous in his own want.

"you look beautiful, honey," he murmurs against your soft skin, finds comfort in it. "like...a slayer. slayer of dragons and all men. you've slayed my heart actually. kept it all to yourself riiight after."

"how–c-can you talk so—...so casually while i'm fucking you?" you laugh incredulously, eyes shut with your eyebrows joint into concentration and forced energy.

"its a talent, i guess," he kisses your temple. "i can be blissed and talk about how beautiful you are at the same time, you little devil."

"thought i was a slayer?"

"you can be a lot of things. a lot of things but you're still you, huh. you, the one that i love," he tucks your hair behind your ear, sees the small dollar-store pearl earring that he bought you and swoons.

you sigh against him. "such a sap, babe,"

he kisses you again.

eddie's hands roam from your waist up to your tatted arms, inked drawings he put on you himself that he traces with his thumb until his fingers slither up to find yours and lace them together.

he pries your lips apart in a soft click, a string of saliva coming with because despite the doting moment, you still are cock drunk. you lazily grin at him, flashing him your pearls that makes him turn liquid and melts back into the backseat of his couch, taking your hand into his and placing them on his chest.

even in moments that don't burn in corybantic lust, he finds himself falling deeper for you. with the sun shining through the trailer blinds and gives you an incandescent glow, his thumbs trace your knuckles, eyes drooping when you clench around his cock and he moans. you smile tiredly, bringing your joint hands up to your lips and kiss its back, before you rest them back to his chest.

he feels you clench a couple more times before you cum onto him and he spills his hot seed into you, moans joined when he kisses you again just because, your hands laced like a delicate silk ribbon, sitting between your bodies to remedy your aching limbs.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

The King of Hawkins, and the King of Hellfire.

SEBASTIAN STAN 80th Annual Golden Globes Awards

Hiii I literally love you and your writing especially your Eddie writing!!! Anywaysss, could I request a shy!reader where they and Eddie are dating but they kinda kept it on the down low but reader was having a bad day and was being all clingy and like everyone found out and the hellfire club was just like 😮

hi i love u ty for ur request! hope this okay ♥️ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

You know you shouldn’t go to his club. It’s not fair of you. Hellfire is one of his sacred nerd rituals. As soon as he sees you like this he’ll put it on pause, and you also know – one of the only things you do know about Dungeons and Dragons — that stopping in the middle of a game interrupts the flow.

Still. You’re feeling a little selfish and a lot strung out. Today has sucked and all you’ve done is wish he was there to make you feel better, so you walk down the hallway to the club room and stand at the door, trying to summon the courage to open it.

On the other side, Mike Wheeler catches a flash of your clothes through the small glass panel and frowns. He jabs Dustin Henderson hard in the side, earning a, “What the fuck, dude?” that Mike quickly shushes.

“There’s a girl outside,” he says.

Girls are… uncommon, at Hellfire.

Dustin leans forward to look around Mike’s torso and forgets to whisper. “Is she crying?”

Eddie looks up, annoyed at being interrupted by the newbies and about to delve into a speech on respecting your dungeon master when his gaze slides past them. He spots your torso, your hands pulled up to your chest, and he knows it’s you. From the curve of your arm alone.

He’s half standing when you knock.

The rest of the group gawp as he stands. Usually, Eddie would either ignore whoever it is or have someone else answer, and his sudden willingness is downright shocking.

He cracks the door open. He’s barely had time to take in your tear stained cheeks when you’re whispering apologies. “I’m really sorry,” you say quickly, pulling the sleeves of your soft cardigan down over your hands. “I needed to see you.”

“What happened?” he asks, trying for hushed like you but missing the mark.

Mike and Dustin make incredulous faces at each other, eyes squinted in confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?” Mike asks.

Lucas Sinclair grins from across the table. “Who do you think?”

“You know her?” Dustin questions. He sounds pissed to have been kept out of the loop.

“Nope,” Lucas says, elbows sliding over the crinkling paper of his character sheet as he pulls in his chair. “I’ve never seen her before in my life. But that’s definitely his girlfriend.”

A handful of laughs from around the table. “Yeah, right,” Gareth says.

Lucas leans in even closer, practically conspiratorial as he points to Eddie’s dirty-white sneakers. “Look, see how close they’re standing?” When nobody looks convinced, Lucas glares. “I know what I’m talking about!”

He really does. The toes of your shoes are a hair's-width from Eddie’s, face to the ground as you scrub your wet cheeks. Telling him about your bad day has made it somehow feel better and worse, and your breathing comes shallow.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I know you’re playing your- um, your game.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder. The large majority of the group whip their faces back to their sheets, caught. He shoots a scowl at them all, though any annoyance slips away when he turns back to you. You look so sad.

Eddie doesn’t really think about it. He steps out into the hall and lets the door close behind him, arms wrapping around you placatingly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s been a really shitty day,” you say hoarsely.

“I know,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. Your shoulders tremble under his palm. “You should’ve found me earlier.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your game.”

“You haven’t. They’re on break,” he promises.

It’s a total lie but he couldn't care less about the campaign, not when you’ve come unraveled. You nod into his chest and worm your shaking hand around his waist, squeezing so tightly it aches. His head tucks over yours like it was made to and he wills some stillness into you, perturbed by your shuddering. He hates when you get like this. You're so wound up you can’t calm yourself down.

Inside the club room, there’s a riot of whispering, some quieter than others.

Lucas sits back in his chair smugly. “Dude, you have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t be so surprised,” he says to Mike.

Mike peers through the glass door with a mild disgust. “Me and my girlfriend don’t do that.”

“That is not true.”

“We don’t-“

“No, they really don’t,” Dustin agrees. “They’re too busy trying to swallow each other.

Anyone who’d been listening starts to laugh, worse when Mike’s cheeks flare red and he flips them all the bird. The laughter quickly dies when the door opens and Eddie returns, his sad maybe-girlfriend trailing behind him.

“Someone get a chair for Y/N,” is all he says.

You look like you might burst into flames on the spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You hate it.

“Thank you,” you say, though you aren’t sure who you’re thanking as somebody passes you a chair. Eddie sits back in his ‘throne’ and you sit beside him, cheeks dry but eyes still red and face downtrodden.

Eddie leans back and rolls his eyes at the silence. “She’s my assistant for today's session,” he says concisely, before any of them think they have the right to ask.

Eddie can’t hold your hand and you don’t think you could survive it in front of so many people, but when the game starts back up and everyone is distracted he pushes his foot behind your calf and pulls your leg toward him. There’s a smile on his face as he orchestrates the next dungeon, his pen scratching down notes you don’t understand.

He rips a page from his notebook and passes it to you covertly.

You take it and let it lie against your thighs. When you read it, you struggle to suppress a giddy smile.

Prettiest assistant ever. Think she'll let me take her out tonight?

He likes his chances.

• f.e.a

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