#Eddie Munson’s thighs

[mrsjellymunson]

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

My masterlist

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer

[imthursdaysyme]

Final installment of the wrestlers 3/3: Steve runs his 5’8 mouth

[artaxlivs]

“Ok, when I say go - squeeze as hard as you can.”

Eddie was going to lose it. There was absolutely zero chance he was going to be able to sit through this display without having a display of his own. He squirmed where he was sitting in the grass, bringing his knees up in a way he hoped was real fucking casual.

“Smooth,” Robin whispered from her spot in the shade next to him. She was leaned back on her hands, giraffe legs sprawled out in front of her so she could poke Henderson with her toes. He kept swatting back at her and ignoring the fact that he was missing entirely. Too focused on the stopwatch and notebook in his hand. What a nerd.

Max got up from where she’d been sitting on the other side of Robin and joined Lucas in his patio chair. Poor Lucas looked like he was on cloud nine which must mean they were currently off on the on-again-off-again cycle of their relationship. Settling in, Max turned to grin at Eddie, sharp and evil. It was clear she’d only moved there to see how this was affecting him. She was a horrible child. His least favorite. 

Except that she wasn’t.

Sticking his tongue out at her, Eddie looked back to the scene in front of him.

The ground around them was littered with crushed fruits. Steve’s thighs were shiny with orange juice. His tiny little shorts had ridden up so high that it had passed indecent before he’d even finished with the citrus fruit. Eddie gulped as his eyes traced over the clear bulge in Steve’s little green shorts. He refused to lift his eyes to Steve’s bare chest with his smattering of moles and coarse hair.

And there was not a chance in hell that Eddie was going to make eye contact with that smirk of Steve’s. He knew what the fuck he’d started. With the kids around and everything! Granted, all Steve had done was crush an empty soda can between his thighs and then the challenge had been on. Lucas had sworn he could do it, too. And he did. But he couldn’t manage to do the lemon. Steve had though. And the orange. and whatever the fuck a papaya was. And on through all the fruit in Steve’s kitchen - did he stock up for this? Who kept that much fruit on hand?

Now, he had a whole ass melon between those thick thighs of his. And Steve had been working out all summer. Running, yes, but it was the squats that drove Eddie to madness. The sunkissed skin wrapped around thick muscles, covered in downy hair, begging, screaming for Eddie to touch them. To run his fingers up them and squeeze, to bury his face between them and finally clear his head with the musky scent of Steve Harrington.

Fuck. Eddie should have escaped into the house. He was never gonna be able to keep his cool. Steve sat back, adjusting around so everyone could see the length of his legs as he crossed his ankles, shifting the melon a little as he got into position.

Eddie whimpered.

“Oh, who cares?” Mike scoffed, “So your big dumb jock legs can make us a fruit salad. Big deal.” He elbowed Will who was staring very intently at Steve. Eddie grinned, covering his mouth and flicking his eyes at Robin who’s eyes were wide and who’s mouth was an O of shock. “We aren’t impressed. Right, Will?”

“Shhh, Mike.” Will waved a hand but didn’t shift his focus away from Steve, “Later.”

Mike sputtered, looking from Will’s intent gaze down to Steve’s thighs. Eddie saw it the moment Mike realized what was going on. He looked shocked. Then angry. Then jealous. And last, scared. There it was. Finally. Jesus.

If Eddie had to suffer through this, at least some good would come of it. Mike would finally realize that he needed to get his head out of his ass. It was about--

“Go!” Dustin yelled, clicking the tab on the top of the watch.

Steve grunted, squeezing his thighs together. His fingers flexed against the ground behind him and his ass came up off the patio a few inches as he sort of ...oh dear god...arched up into it. He clenched his thighs, his hips, his gorgeous fucking ass, Eddie held his breath, clenched his own thighs to not arch up in response, biting his lips to keep from panting and moaning and then--

CRACK! The melon split clear up the middle, splooging juice right up the seam of Steve’s clenched thighs. It dripped out under him and Eddie could taste cooper he was biting down so hard on his bottom lip.

Dustin had already released the timer, cheering with everyone. Eddie resolutely did not look up, keeping his eyes trained on the slowly growing puddle under Steve instead. It was so hot. It was fucking obscene. 

“Alright, what’s next?” Dustin said with a sunny smile, looking up from where he’d noted the time in his spiral notebook.

“Me.” Eddie heard himself say and launched himself at his boyfriend. Steve muttered something about it being about time right before Eddie smashed their mouths together.

“Um...should I...start the timer?” he heard Dustin ask. 

There were a bunch of squelching thuds as people must have thrown crushed fruit at him.

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Eddie Munson would dead ass be a chubby chaser that’s it that’s the post.

[whataghostlyscenee]

he was so hot for no reason in this scene

[bitterhotmess]

[munsonfamilyband]

I love the idea of Steve being kind of curvy, but mostly in that way swimmers are with big shoulders and teeny waists (plus his butt, Eddie is very adamant that his butt makes him curvier and Steve jokingly yells at him for it)

I love the idea even more of Eddie being a wooden board man, he has a slight difference between his shoulders and his hips/waist but he’s mostly the same circumference the whole way down (he regularly jokes about Steve supplying all the ass in their relationship)

[belokhvostikova]

A really long time ago, someone posted a photo of Kermit the Frog dressed as Eddie Munson, and it was so funny to me that I, for whatever reason, felt the need to comment my thoughts on it.

And well… I just thought about it today, so if you ever posted a photo of Kermit the Frog dressed as Eddie Munson before, and I left a comment on it, please let me know.

[estrellami-1]

I've been itchin for some good old fashioned steddie hurt/comfort, maybe steve with migraines? I know its been written a lot, but its always so soft and loving

Okay so this took FOREVER but muse deserted me like. Two days after I asked for these prompts. I’m terrible 😂 but I finally feel like I have something, so hopefully this suffices!

Courtesy of my dad putting a meat thermometer in the car on a 110°F/43°C day:

155.5°F, y’all. 68°C. That’s hot, no matter where you’re from. I’m not from Indiana, so I’m gonna go a little easy on Steve and say it’s barely breaching triple digits where he’s at, but if anyone’s from Indiana and wants to correct me, then by all means, please do!

It’s the heat that finally gets him.

Steve can deal with rain, with snow, with wind, hell, he can deal with interdimensional creatures.

But the heat is what finally takes him out.

His ears are ringing, his head is pounding, his stomach is churning.

The kids are out in the backyard, screaming.

He’d been out there with them, supervising, playing, settling fights. Being the babysitter. But he’d overdone it, and now he’s stuck inside. Can’t move from where he’d collapsed into a kitchen chair.

He’s got a cold Coke can by his elbow that he snagged from the fridge. Contemplates grabbing it and holding it up to his forehead, but everything feels like too much work right now, and he shuts his eyes against the tears that want to come.

The back door opens just as Dustin begins screaming about something else, and Steve can’t hold in the whimper, or the way he curls in on himself.

“Shit,” someone whispers, and Steve hears their footsteps approaching. “Steve?”

It’s Eddie. He’s whispering. Steve’s never been more grateful. He manages half a nod, to show he’s listening.

“Can I touch you?”

Another half-nod, and he grimaces at his head and stomach yelling at him.

“Okay, hey, shh, it’s okay, don’t move. I’m just gonna grab your hand, okay?” He does, grabbing the hand Steve hadn’t realized was tugging at his hair. He holds Steve’s hand with one of his and with the other, rakes his fingers through Steve’s hair.

Steve leans over a little, closer to Eddie, letting out a breath of relief. “Squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no, okay?”

Steve squeezes once, and Eddie lifts their joined hands to his mouth, kisses the back of Steve’s. “Okay. Headache?” A squeeze. “More?” Another squeeze. “Stomach?” Squeeze. “More?” Squeeze. Pause. “Can you point to it?” He points to his ear with their combined hands, and Eddie hums. “Ringing?” Squeeze. “Dizzy?”

No squeeze. He’s not sure. “Okay, that’s alright. D’you want the coke?” Two squeezes. “Okay. If I get you some water, d’you think you can drink some of it?”

A hesitant squeeze. He can try, sure, but he’s not sure it won’t come right back up. Eddie squeezes his hand, gently places it on the table, and kisses his forehead before moving away, getting a bottle of water from the fridge by the sound of it. He comes back quickly, lays a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder and rubs it down his back for a second.

Steve sighs, bowing his head, and Eddie chuckles softly, placing the water down in favor of getting both hands on Steve’s shoulders. He squeezes and kneads his thumbs in, on either side of his spine, down to the middle of his back and up to the base of his skull.

He continues with the massage for a few minutes, until Steve’s practically melting onto the table, then drags one hand down his arm to his hand, taking it again so Steve can squeeze. “Did you take anything for your headache?”

A pause, because he’s berating himself for not thinking of that when it would’ve been the most effective, then two squeezes. Because Eddie’s perfect, he says, “That’s alright, Stevie, I know it’s hard. Let me get you something for your head. You want something for your stomach, too?” Steve could cry with how in love he is. He squeezes twice and hopes Eddie doesn’t notice the tear making its way down his cheek.

Eddie’s lips intercept it about halfway down. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, carding a hand through Steve’s hair again. “I know. You’re doing so well, Stevie, I’m so proud of you. The kids are okay, and I’m here to help for as long as you want me to, alright?”

One last squeeze before Eddie pulls away. Forever, he means, and the lips on his temple make him think Eddie understands.

He’s back in a few seconds with two pills. He hands them to Steve, but they’re small and he thinks he might drop them, might spill the water, so he presses them back into Eddie’s hand.

Another pause but Eddie understands a few seconds later and the pills are at his lips, and he’s opening for them, accepting the water that’s next, slowing down when Eddie murmurs. “Careful, slow sips. Just a little for now, you can do more in a minute, just let this settle first.” He pulls the glass away, sets it down on the table, and takes Steve’s hand again. “How about we go upstairs? Maybe take a bath? I think there’s some of that lavender oil still.” Squeeze, pause. Upstairs. Squeeze, pause. Bath. Two squeezes. Lavender.

Eddie seems to understand, thankfully. “Okay, no lavender. Want me to carry you up?”

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Steve internally curses his parents for buying the biggest, grandest house they could. He squeezes once; even if he would prefer to walk, he’s not sure he can right now.

Eddie moves to crouch beside him, pressing another kiss to his temple. “I love you,” he whispers, lips brushing Steve’s temple still. “So much.” He gets his arms around Steve, adjusts a little, and counts down so Steve knows when he’s going to move. Steve loves him an insane amount.

Instead of saying anything, he loops an arm around Eddie’s neck, tucks his head into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and presses a kiss to Eddie’s collarbone.

Eddie gets him upstairs and in bed with minimal jostling. “I’m gonna go grab your water real quick,” he whispers. “D’you want the bath now, or later?” He quickly thrusts a hand back into Steve’s. “One for now, two for later.”

Steve thinks about it, honestly doesn’t know. Holds up a weak-feeling w to his chin. Water.

“Okay. I’m gonna let the gremlins know too, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Logically, Steve knows he will be back in a few minutes. He knows he’s in a sweat-soaked tank top and swimming trunks. But it’s somehow cooler upstairs than down, and his window is closed, and his head is pounding less, enough so that he’s falling asleep by the time Eddie makes it back up.

He startles awake when Eddie places a hand on his forehead, then winces when his movement causes everything to hurt more. “Shit,” Eddie whispers. “Sorry, baby, didn’t think you’d be asleep yet. Can you drink a little bit more water for me? Then we can sleep.

Steve frowns, lifts a clumsy hand to sign. Bath?

“Do you want one right now? Because I’ll go set it up if you do. But I think your body knows what you need right now and is trying to give it to you.”

Steve thinks it over, then agrees, asking for water again. “Yeah, of course, here, lemme just…” he maneuvers behind Steve, props him up some, and lifts the bottle to his lips. “Small sips, baby, it’ll be here later too, m’kay?”

Steve obeys, taking small, slow sips, tilting his head up when he’s finished. Eddie places a kiss on his cheek as he puts the bottle back on the table. “Go to sleep, baby,” he murmurs, laying them down. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Steve frowns, signs one more word. Kids?

“I let them know you’re not feeling well. They’re packing up, Nancy and Jonathan are gonna take everyone home. Robin threatened me with dismemberment if I didn’t tell you to call her when you’re feeling better.” Steve smiles. “Oh, sure, just laugh at a threat to me, what’s gonna happen when-” he splutters when Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s mouth. He grins, kisses his palm, and grabs his wrist, slotting his thumb into the pulse point. “Love you, Stevie.”

With the hand still held aloft, Steve sticks out his thumb, pointer finger, and pinky. I love you. And with that, he drifts off to sleep.

When he wakes up, the little bit of light coming from his window tells him he’s only been out for a few hours. He takes stock of himself: his head still hurts a little, his ears aren’t ringing anymore, and his stomach still feels a little weird, but he thinks he might just be hungry.

He rolls onto his side and comes face-to-face with a sleeping Eddie. As he watches, Eddie’s brows scrunch, he mutters something, and he stretches out, one arm creeping across the sheets towards Steve. His hand pushes against Steve’s chest a few times before he mutters something else and wraps his arm around Steve, pulling him closer.

Steve can’t help it. He grins and kisses Eddie’s forehead, so in love with this dork he’s just about shaking with it.

Eddie’s eyebrows scrunch again and his eyes flicker open. He smiles at Steve. “Hi, baby,” he whispers, sleep-rough. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Better,” Steve whispers back. “Head still hurts a little, but it’s not bad. Mostly I’m hungry.”

Eddie hums, tucking his head under Steve’s and rubbing a hand up and down his back. “What’re you in the mood for?”

Steve hums back. “Feels good. I dunno. Think there’s any burgers left? Might do one of those.”

He can feel the face Eddie makes. More so, he can hear it in his voice. “You want leftover burgers?”

Steve lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “It’s easy.”

“Stevie. Baby.” Eddie pulls back to press a kiss to his lips. “I asked you what you want, not what would be easy. If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Steve thinks about it, then starts laughing. “Honestly? McDonald’s.”

Eddie chuckles too. “Then McDonald’s you shall get,” he swears. “Wanna come with me or stay here?”

Steve’s brows raise in surprise. “I can get it, Eds.”

“I know you can. I’m asking if you want to come with me or if you’d rather stay in bed.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’d rather stay in bed with you,” he says, causing Eddie to smile.

“Ah, but we can do that after I get your food. You want your regular?”

“Yes, please. Think I’d rather stay here, if that’s okay. I think the sun might make the headache worse.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie soothes, standing up then bending over to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Be back soon.”

“M’kay. Thanks, baby.”

“Anything for my love,” Eddie grins, bowing before he walks to the door.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head at his boyfriend’s dramatics, shifting in bed to get comfy again.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when Eddie walks in, he blinks awake, stretching as he smiles at him. “Hi, baby,” Eddie whispers.

Steve wants to kiss him, so he does, sits up and drags Eddie closer, food all but forgotten. “Hi,” he whispers against Eddie’s lips. “Thank you.”

Eddie hums as he kisses Steve once more then pulls away. “Anything,” he says, and Steve knows he means it.

They eat in relative silence until Steve asks, “how’d the kids react when you told them?”

Eddie smiles. “They were mostly worried for you. I think Dustin was about to bust inside and demand why you didn’t tell him you weren’t feeling well, but then Nancy gave him a look—you know the one—and told him in no uncertain terms that they were going to leave you to rest and could check in on you tomorrow. So expect a call from him.”

“Or twelve,” Steve chuckles. “Speaking of, I should probably call Robin, huh?”

“Probably,” Eddie agrees, then grins. “Or I can think of something else we could do instead.”

Steve pretends to think about it, then leans in. “Robin can wait,” he agrees, matching Eddie’s grin with his own.

[taintedcigs]

WHATEVER THIS MEANS (probably nothing. this is a rought draft). but HEY at least im writing (100 words)

[strangerstilinski]

i am. so high and i need to suck on the head of eddie's cock like it's a lollipop i need to wrap my lips around it and just lick

[what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama]

Zzzzzzizzling!

Having early morning thots about dom!Eddie and his thighs…

You’re absolutely not thinking about dom!Eddie and how he’s so easily got you into subspace just by stroking your hair, using those words he knows work so well and leaving gentle, wet, open mouthed kisses over the back of your neck.

You’re definitely not thinking about how he’s left you sitting on the chair whilst he walks away, standing, naked, sideways on to you, feet slightly apart, looking out of the window, only a few feet away.

You’re definitely not imagining dropping out of that chair onto your knees, crawling toward him, kneeling at his side as you shakily and tentatively run your hands up his shin and calf.

Not about how he languidly lights a cigarette, still looking out of the window, taking slow drags.

Definitely not thinking about how your breath is soft but uneven as you scootch in closer, running one hand over his knee and the other up the back of his thigh, the desire to be close to him morphing into absolute need.

You’re absolutely not imagining your chest brushing the side of his leg, your hands coming up to hold around his strong, solid, hairy thigh, your lips connecting with it in soft kisses, brushing the fur and flesh.

Not how your tongue laps out to taste his skin, moving over the strong muscle, your spit collecting on epidermis and fuzz.

Definitely not envisioning how his throbbing cock, standing to attention and resplendent against his taut abdomen, just above your eye level, is leaking the most delicate, shining drop of precum, and looks the most delicious you’ve ever seen it.

You’re definitely not imagining how you lift your hips and shift position so your knees straddle either side of his foot, and your core rests against the junction of his foot and ankle.

Definitely don’t visualise how your wet kisses to the front of his thigh turn into your tongue laving his muscles and your teeth nipping as you fill your mouth with as much of the taut flesh as you can.

Don’t think about how your hips start to gently rock, giving you a slight but delightful amount of friction where you need it most.

(Or how you think you hear his breath hitch, but you’re so deep you can’t be sure.)

Or how he finally (finally) looks down at you, just briefly, telling you you look so beautiful like this, before his gaze returns to the window.

And you’re definitely, definitely not thinking about how you feel when he states yes, you can touch him now…

[imthursdaysyme]

Installment of the wrestlers 2/3: Eddie stole Steve’s leftovers

[dearramiel]

Gif imagine the sounds Eddie’s lips make when he sucks your nipples.

Eddie practically makes out with your boobs<3.

It sounds so wet and messy, and there's definitely a lot of drool rolling down to your underboob.

Slurping atw. Eddie is a starved man and loves leaving hickeys wherever he can.

[Send Asks!]

[infinite-orangepeel]

eddie munson is happiest with those thighs ^^^ locked around his head in a death grip and no you can’t change my mind <3

[delta-piscium]

#24 for the dialogue prompt lol ❤️

24.  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably not.”

“Why are there never any hot guys here anymore?” Eddie complained, voice whinier than he’d like to admit. 

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him, “you calling me ugly, Munson?”

Eddie rolled his eyes before giving Jeff his sweetest smile. “Never any hot guys who’d also like to have sex with me, or are you suddenly interested Jeffy-boy?” 

Jeff made a disgusted face that would have been insulting if Eddie didn’t feel exactly the same. The only other gay guy he knew and they were tragically not attracted to each other. What a cruel world they lived in. 

Eddie was about to complain about that instead but before he could Jeff did a double take at the bar, eyes widening. 

“Is that Steve Harrington?” 

Eddie whipped his head around so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t hurt himself. It would have been worth it if he did though because there sitting at the bar was indeed Steve.

Steve with his broad shoulders, and ridiculous hair that Eddie had been obsessed with since his first senior year. 

“Oh shit,” he rasped, his throat suddenly dry. 

He blinked several times to see if maybe he was imagining it and Steve would go away. He didn’t, he stayed right where he was. And then he was turning around and their eyes locked. Steve looked shocked for a second but quickly gathered himself, tilting his head slightly at Eddie giving a slow once-over. Just that made Eddie feel like he was gonna explode and then the bastard had the audacity to wink at him before turning back around. 

Eddie gaped. 

“Did he just wink at you?” Jeff asked slowly, “did Steve fucking Harrington just wink at you in this gay bar?”

Eddie wordlessly nodded, Steve had just done that. If Eddie had had any questions about what Steve was doing here he didn’t anymore.

Steve Harrington had just- he had- oh this was good. Eddie's lips stretched into a slow smirk as his shock slowly faded away, a new thought taking its place. 

“I don’t like that look,” Jeff eyed him suspiciously. 

Eddie ignored it, instead asking, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He sighed, “probably not.” 

“I should seduce Steve.” Eddie continued before Jeff had even finished. 

“Not even close to what I was thinking.” 

Eddie pressed his half-drunk beer into Jeff’s empty hands. “Well start thinking it baby, 'cause it’s happening.” 

He spun around as Jeff muttered ‘here we fucking go’ which Eddie chose to interpret as him being supportive. Like ‘fuck yeah, here we fucking go!’ he gave Jeff a one-fingered wave over his shoulder as thanks. 

'Here we fucking go indeed', he thought as he slid up next to Steve.

dialogue prompt