#You can use your imagination for what Eddie was looking at
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I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)
For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/
THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂
Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth
Words: 1.2k
“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”
Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas.
“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter.
“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”
“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.
Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.
“Hey, what is it?” he asks.
“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”
Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about.
“The…scrunch?” he asks.
“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”
By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.
“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”
“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”
“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”
“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”
“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line.
“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away.
“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.
Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.
“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”
“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth.
The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan.
“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”
Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now.
Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you.
“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”
“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.
Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again.
“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.
Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.
“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.
“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles.
“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”
“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”
Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.
“What?”
“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.
A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.
You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness.
“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.
“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.
“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”
“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”
It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#eddie munson imagine#AYW#AYWs#request
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Eddie’s on a live-stream complaining about managers, specially because his manager is currently being a pain in the ass and not respecting the songwriting process (that being that Eddie doesn’t want to write a new song right now so he’s not going to). He’s walking around his house trying to close a ring on this fitness app Steve forced him to get when he stops short in the doorway of his bedroom.
You hear an extremely cocky, extremely flirty, “Like what you see?”
Eddie nods his head like, “Ye- uh-huh. Yep.”
“Gonna do something about it?”
Eddie nods again and a big smile breaks out across his face, “I definitely am.”
“No phones,” Steve says. “Get in here.”
Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice, tossing his phone into a basket of dirty laundry sitting in the hallway and then closes the bedroom door. For the next three hours, anyone that tunes into the live-stream gets to stare at the Ralph Lauren logo on one of Steve’s shirts.
#You can use your imagination for what Eddie was looking at#eddie munson tiktok saga#eddie munson#steve harrington
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𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say
Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.
"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.
"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"
"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."
"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.
You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.
It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.
He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?
That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything. You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead. “Did they say what the issue is?”
“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug. “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing. Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”
“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall. “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”
Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to. Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…
At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch. “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.
At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work. We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."
By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore. Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.
"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.
"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.
"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.
For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.
He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.
"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.
"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.
But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...
And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious.
Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground. He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose. Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you. “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.
“What? No you weren’t,” you scoffed. “You studied so hard! I’m really proud of you, you know.”
“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.
“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him. “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were. You worked your ass off. I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”
“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.
“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it. “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”
He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat. How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?
“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.
"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.
Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.
He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.
“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that. Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”
“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same. Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.
He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder. This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?
The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest. Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.
What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit? What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth? What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?
He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left. For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.
He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either. He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.
Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…
He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.
Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.
His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.
This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.
He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.
He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.
You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.
“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.
“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously. “I— are you crazy?”
“Ed,” you warned firmly.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”
“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.
“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”
“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open. He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.
“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well. Kind of?”
“Kind of, as in…”
“Completely,” he blurted out.
You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking. Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.
But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap. And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.
You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach. You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.
“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.
“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him. If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.
He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.
“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently. He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.
“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly. He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you. “I wonder if I can…”
You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you
As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit. “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him. He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly. “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”
You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that? It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly.
Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it. No way you actually enjoyed this, right?
You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—
“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”
“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.
Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way. Boy, was he glad he did. “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls. “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”
“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?
“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something? Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”
“Prude? That’s unfair,” you laughed. “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”
“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this. “You’re a proper fucking slut.”
You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless. “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”
“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.
“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed.
“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact. What was he supposed to do when you did that?! How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?
“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.
“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”
But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.
“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”
He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.
“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.
“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.
“Fuck, that’s—”
He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.
“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs. “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”
You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down. “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”
Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him? You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.
“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.
You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest. You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him. “God, baby, your tits…”
As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on. He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.
He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day. “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this. Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”
You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free? So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure. But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway. It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.
“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.
“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this. “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”
“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.
“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you. He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.
“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh. “Fuck, look what you do to me.”
You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.
“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long. Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”
He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high. He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”
The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening. Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.
“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.
“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.
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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue.
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again."
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#kinktober 2023
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poker face
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
spencer and you go to the casino to find the unsub. you think he looks pretty hot playing poker.
word count: 2.0k
warnings: making out, gambling, poker face spencer aghhh
"Forensics got a fingerprint match on the last victim. Eddie Langdon. We're looking into him." You said as you walked back into the office that held some of your team members.
Hotch came in behind you, "Hey, any luck?" Emily asked.
"No, they don't want to allocate agency funds for the buy-in. I'm still working on it." Hotch replied, looking down to his phone as he got back on another call.
Rossi chuckled, "Well, I can't imagine why not. We're only asking for fifty thousand bucks of taxpayer money so that FBI agents can play Texas hold 'em."
Emily eyed Rossi, "Hey, what about you?"
"What about me? What?"
"You could stake us the buy-in." Emily smirked.
Spencer sat down next to you, "Yeah, you're a best-selling author."
You nodded enthusiastically, "Don't forget a best-selling author and longtime FBI agent. You could loan us the money, or something."
"No," Rossi shook his head.
"Why not?" Emily frowned.
"One, it's against regulations, and I'd like to hold on to this job for a little while longer." Rossi began.
Under your breath, you muttered, "It's just a little violation, 's all."
Rossi just rolled his eyes at your comment. "And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single-malt scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork."
"Poker chips are things!" JJ replied quickly with a smile.
Rossi just scoffed as Spencer spoke up again. "Maybe just think of it as like a new experience. I mean, at your age, how often does that happen?" Oh, no he didn't.
"At my what?" Rossi slowly turned his head to Spencer who just gulped and awkwardly looked away.
"Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy." You said slowly. "They government isn't going to give us the money. You're our only way to catch this killer. Please?" You paused for a moment. "And if it helps, you can just write a new book to get some more cha-ching."
Rossi sighed, "All right, fine. But I'm ignoring that last comment. I'm a decent poker player, but I can't promise that I can stay in the game long enough to--"
"You know what?" Emily interrupted. "I bet you're a great poker player, but what if we sent in Reid?"
"I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump because of my card-counting ability." Spencer commented as if it was the most casual thing in the whole world.
You raised your hand slightly, "Why did I not know this sooner?"
"Look, I know I'm not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not Blackjack." Rossi argued. "It's about bluffing, reading human nature, head games. It's not math."
That's when Spencer stood up, "That's not entirely accurate. There actually is a mathematical equation for knowing when to raise and when to fold. If P represents the size of the pot at the time of play, then P times N minus one, with N representing the estimated number of players in the final round of betting--"
"Okay! Fine, I surrender!" Rossi cut Spencer off quickly. "Just try not to lose all my money. Actually, you know what?" Rossi quickly spoke your name. "Take her with you, I don't want you losing all my money and if she needs to interrupt the game, then so be it."
Your eyes widened, "Rossi, I've never stepped foot into a casino in my life."
"You'll be fine!" Rossi waved it off as Spencer gave you a comforting look.
Oh, this was not what you expected at all.
Spencer and you had to get checked by security with the handheld metal detectors. Yours didn't go off, but Spencer's did. He played it off as just a pen. Thank god they accepted that.
The two of you walked in. For someone who stared at dead bodies and killers all day, this was the most nerve wracking thing you'd experienced in a while. It also didn't help that Hotch decided you and Spencer were to play a couple when you had such a big crush on him.
"Hey," Spencer muttered, "It's okay."
"Just nervous," You replied under your breath. The two of you made your way to the bar. Spencer got himself a drink, and you got some champagne. "Is it really just math?"
Spencer nodded, "Math, and a little bit of luck."
The moment you felt Spencer take your hand, you tried to pull away. "Spencer, what about germs--"
"I don't mind your germs, you're my friend. Plus, we have a part to play, remember?" Spencer muttered, locking his fingers between yours. Your heart pounded as you did the same.
"I'll observe as you play," You muttered, remembering the list of things you needed to look for to find the unsub. "I know you don't need it, but good luck."
Spencer smiled at you, the comment being just so sweet and innocent. "Thank you." You looked so nervous, so out of place. It made Spencer notice you more.
Spencer had taken a seat at a table, which you stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder. Your hands rested on the back of the chair. So far, no one caught your eye, until one man at another table did. Casually, you poked Spencer and he caught onto your stare.
"You know, would it be all right if I sat at table two instead of four? I have a pre-glaucoma condition and the light's kind of bothering my eyes." Spencer called over the employee, who took him to the desired table.
The men didn't just eye Spencer as he sat down, you noticed they eyed you too. Defensively, you wrapped your arms around Spencer's neck from behind. "Ah, I'm calling." One of the men said."
"I'll raise." One guy said. You stared at him, noticing his red eyes. Weird. "Eight thousand."
"Eight thousand.. That's, uh, fifty-six months wages for the average person in Bangladesh." Spencer commented casually. In reply, you giggled and played with some of hair, pushing it out of his face. Spencer hoped you didn't feel his face turn hot under your fingers. "Uh, kind of makes you think, doesn't it?"
"Hey, it's eight thou to you." One guy remarked. "Now, are you in or are you out?"
Spencer sighed, "I.. am in. And I raise."
"Three raise? That's too rich for my blood." The guy sighed. One man, the one who raised before Spencer, bored holes into him.
"Are you in, sir?" Spencer asked.
"I'll call."
"Call?"
Spencer flipped his cards, "Straight."
Based on everyone's reactions and Spencer's coy face, straight was a very good thing. Playing the act, you kissed Spencer's forehead and squealed lightly, deciding to stroke his cheek for a moment. "A gut shot straight draw? Are you kidding me?"
"That is just-- that is nuts."
It was no wonder Spencer was banned from casinos. Spencer's poker face was good. He simply just covered his mouth after a moment and stared, watching everyone's reactions. His hand slowly ran down to his chin, and in that moment, it did it for you. Sure, Spencer was your cute little nerd, but he'd never been so hot to you.
You noticed next to the man who was staring, he had an eight ball keychain. "Hey, mind if I look at this?" You asked, reaching for it.
The man was quick to grab your hand hard. Spencer jumped into action, pulling you from him.
"Hey. What's the problem, sir?" An employee asked.
"She's reaching for my chips!"
"I'm not even in the game," You remarked.
The employee grabbed your arms, "You need to come with me."
If Spencer's eyes could've gotten any wider, they would've popped out of his head. "Hey! Don't manhandle her! She can walk, let go!" Spencer ripped the mans arms off of you and pulled you into his chest. "Come on, love. Let's just go."
Spencer's words caused your chest to tingle as he guided you away. You watched as he clicked the call-device, it lit up red. The look on the mans face, your unsub, was clear. He knew.
You met up with the team as you were lead out the doors, "They're FBI agents," Hotch informed the guard.
"There he goes, plaid shirt, baseball hat." Spencer pointed.
After searching the whole casino, the unsub made a break for it. His name was Curtis Banks. You and Spencer were sent to his house to see if he was there. After a quick search, it was clear he wasn't there.
"Hey Hotch, he isn't here. There's a foreclosure sign in the lawn." You informed your chief.
"All right, you and Reid stay there in case he comes back." Hotch hung up the phone.
You shrugged to Spencer, "And we wait."
After a beat of silence, Spencer turned to you. "At the casino, you couldn't keep your hands off of me after I won." Spencer said out of nowhere. "Your physical proximity was close, you frequently stared at me--"
"I was playing my part," You argued.
"Yeah, too well." Spencer pointed out. "Were you checking me out?"
Heat rose to your cheeks, "No. Why would I do that?"
"Look at me and say it," Spencer demanded, but his tone wasn't harsh. It was simply just firm. "You won't look at me."
Slowly, you turned to look at Spencer, "I wasn't checking you out."
"You can't look me in the eyes. You've never not looked me in the eyes." Spencer continued.
"Stop profiling me," You tried to end the discussion. It was clear Spencer had caught you. You weren't interested in being turned down, especially when you were in some sort of steak-out with the genius.
Spencer frowned, "I'm not profiling you. I'm just telling you as it is."
"That's what profiling is," You countered. "We don't need to have this conversation. Was I checking you out? Yes, I was. Is that what you wanted me to say? That you looked so damn hot winning thousands of dollars with your best poker face while you let me all over you?"
Spencer said your name, but you kept rambling. It took him grabbing your chin and forcing your face closer to his to make you stop. "You think I'm hot?"
"Yeah," You stuttered. "Yeah, I do."
Slowly, Spencer trailed his finger over your bottom lip. "I always thought you were the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen."
"Where's this confidence coming from?" You asked.
Spencer shrugged, "Gamblers frequently experience a phenomenon called the 'winning high,' it releases dopamine and adrenaline, making gamblers do riskier things than they'd normally do."
"You gonna use that high to kiss me?" Your voice was a mere mutter. Your lips were just grazing Spencers.
"Is that what you want?" Spencer lowly asked.
"What do you think?" You retorted.
Spencer's lips slammed onto your own, harder than you expected. His large hand had the back of your neck, and he pulled you impossibly closer. It was hot, just how you wanted it. Flimsily, Spencer reached to the bottom of his seat to scoot it back. His hands went to your hips, guiding you to move across the seats to his lap.
"You know, we're still on the lookout." You mumbled, pressing another kiss to the genius's lips.
"They haven't called us yet." Spencer challenged, hand running down your back to your waist.
Slowly, Spencer's hand began to creep up your shirt, just to your navel-level. His kisses descended to your neck, pressing opened mouth, warm kisses to your skin.
"Spence," You whined, grabbing his hair to push him closer. He sighed in reply.
You both jolted when your phone began to ring. You grabbed it quickly, "What?"
"Ooh, someone's frisky." Derek teased over the phone. "We got the guy. You two are all good to head back."
"Thanks, Morgan. See you back there." You hung up the phone, tossing it back to to your seat. "Looks like we have to wrap this up."
Spencer smirked, "We fly back in the morning. We'll find some time soon."
Spencer's words weren't a tease, they were a promise.
#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#bau team#criminal minds fandom#dr reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader
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Steve Harrington only wears a bra.
Well, not, only, he's also wearing bright orange swim shorts and a cap backward, too.
The top part, however? Hairy man boobs are prettily covered by a black lace bra with a sparkling strass stone in the middle.
Eddie might be a teeny tiny bit drunk (2 beers after months of abstinence and medication does that to a man), but not drunk enought to imagine Steve Harrington in a bra.
'Uh-', he says eloquently and tries not to stare too much at the other man sitting on what must be Buckley's bed. 'Am I interrupting something?'
Steve, face almost as pink as Erica's favourite shoes, opens his mouth to reply, but Robin, sitting crosslegged in front of him, is faster, 'Oh its just you. Close the door, Eds.'
Eddie isn't sure if she means 'close the door and leave, never talk to us about whatever weird kinky little thing we're doing right now' or 'come in, close the door and shut up'. He hesitates for a moment, studying Steve's pretty flushed face and Robin’s wiggling eyebrows before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
His hand is still on the door knob when he turns and finds Robin leaning against Steve’s hairy chest, one of her arms behind his back. She's fumbling with something, frustrated noises escape her closed lips while Steve simply sits still - like a statue. An Adonis statue wearing a bra.
'Fuck', Robin groans loudly, her forehead knocking against Steve's clavicle, his hand patting her head in condolence.
'Not to be judgmental', Eddie starts slowly as he leans against the book case right next to the door, 'But what are you guys doing?'
(Eddie thought Robin's a friend of Dorothy, so why is Steve fucking Harrington sitting dolled up in a delicate bra on her bed and they look like they're ready to make out?!)
When both Steve and Robin send him evil twin looks, he holds both his hands up in surrender, 'Like I said, not gonna judge you, whatever floats your boat or whatever, but what, exactly, is it that you're trying to do here?'
'Practice', Robin grumbles against Steve's chest, tugging behind his back again.
Steve grins, a bit lopsided and goofy, 'She's trying to open the bra with one hand.'
'It's just so much easier on myself,' she says, and now that Eddie knows what's happening, he can make out her hand tugging and fumbling with the hooks behind Steve's back.
'Ah,' Eddie says, again, rather eloquently. 'I should probably leave you to it, then.'
Before he can turn and go, however, Steve says, 'I heard that you're pretty good with your hands, Munson. Bet you can get it off me in no time.'
'Pfff- ' Robin makes, rolling her eyes, 'I wouldn't be so sure he's ever had a bra in his hands.'
And while Robin has flocked him as a raging homosexual as it seems, Eddie heard the rumours about him too: fingers dancing over his guitar, rolling the perfect joints, Eddie the freak Munson knows how to work his fingers. he doesn't hate this rumour at all. It's kind of nice - for his ego and all.
Yes, he hasn't opened a bra before, but he's met this hot goth dude in a corset before, and that's basically a bra with dozens of hooks. He is fairly sure he can open it with one hand and without looking. What he probably shouldn't do is coming too close to Steve Harrington, the man he's had a crush on since they survived the Upside Down together. Not with his naked skin and hairy chest and dark brown nipple peaking through the black lace of the undergarment.
But both Robin and Steve stare at him and Eddie doesn't run anymore - a challenge is a challenge.
'No problem,' he says far more confident than he actually feels and steps closer, one knee on the bed before Robin's even all out of the way.
'No looking,' she says as if she's explaining the rules to a game, 'chest to chest or face in his neck, but you can only use one hand and your eyes have to stay either closed or on him. Seriously no peeking.'
She shuffles out the way to make room for Eddie between Steve's long, also very naked, legs and Eddie swallows quietly before leaning closer.
Steve smells like sunscreen and grass, a bit like the pineapple they ate earlier before the kids left, and sweat. He smells devine and before Eddie can think clearly, he presses his face into Steve's neck. He feels Steve shudder when his damp lips accidentally meet his sun kissed skin and Eddie feels like he's going crazy. What is he doing? Why is he doing it? Even the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. God, he's gone so bad for Steve Harrington.
'Ready?' Robin asks, apparently unaware of Eddie's dilemma or the way Steve's pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird right against Eddie's nose. 'Go!'
He sneaks his right arm around Steve, who jumps slightly the moment Eddie's fingertips brush against his shoulder blades. To keep him still, Eddie's left hand reaches for Steve's waist almost automatically. He doesn't try to focus too much on the way goosebumps spread under his fingers and the way Steve literally whines into Eddie's ear. His right hand follows the scratchy lace, nails lightly scratching Steve's skin, until he finds the hooks.
Thumb under the fabric and pointer and middle finger pressing against it, he feels the first hook opening after less than a heartbeat. For a moment, Eddie doesn't want to open the other two and therefore lose any reason to be so close to Steve.
Steve, who has his nose pressed against Eddie's hair and hand curled into Eddie's shirt, slightly tugging as if .... Well, as if to ask for permission to take it off. Eddie doesn't even know when he had the time to grab for the shirt in the first place.
Eddie moves his hand and the second hook opens. He turns his face, brings a bit more space between them to look at Steve. His cheeks are scarlet, lips shiney with spit and when he opens his eyes after mere seconds of Eddie staring at him, he can see that Steve's pupils are dilated, eyes dark with want.
The last hook springs free and without turning his eyes away, Eddie gently brushes the strap off Steve's broad shoulder. Steve quietly whimpers and pushes harder against Eddie's shirt as if to tear it off his body.
'Eddie', he whispers, licking his lips and Eddie just wants everything Steve is ready to offer.
'Ohhh okay, I think I'll leave you two alone', he hears the slightly panicked voice of Robin and then a door opening and closing.
And Eddie leans in...
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When Steve picks up the phone, he can hear Eddie laughing before he’s even said a word.
“What?” Steve says through a smile; he’s used to this now, phone calls that happen for no real reason. Robin had gotten him well and truly accustomed to it: months of rambling conversations—with occasional interjections from Mr Buckley, chuckling as he warned Robin that she was gonna trip over the cord.
“I need your help,” Eddie says, amusement still evident in his voice, “it’s to win an argument.”
“Oh, is that all I am to you?” Steve acts like he’s going to hang up, covering the receiver with his hand so it sounds muffled.
“No, no!” Eddie’s laughing again. “Don’t go.”
Steve removes his hand, his smile growing. “All right, jeez. What’s up?”
“Okay, back me up here ‘cause Dustin and Lucas did not believe me. There was—we had an old gym teacher, right? He, like, towered above us, man, had a moustache, like what do you call it when it’s all—”
Steve feels another wave of affection; he knows that Eddie will be unconsciously demonstrating what the moustache looks like, despite the fact that they can’t see each other.
“—uh, bristly, you know what I—?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, “Mr Wilson. Didn’t he leave a couple years ago? Super mean for no reason, dude had a stick up his—”
“Yes!” Eddie crows in triumph. “I knew you’d remember, I knew it.”
Steve shakes his head fondly—Eddie’s making it sound far more impressive than it actually is, like he’s just sunk the winning shot or something. Like Eddie has an unshakeable belief in him.
“God, he was the worst. He was the one that was obsessed with cross-country, right—”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, yeah,” Eddie says. “It was actually scary. I swear he got some kinda evil kick out of it whenever it rained, like he’d hope we drowned out there or—”
Steve makes a vague hum of agreement; there’s a flash of the familiar in Eddie’s words, the memory of mud and rain against his skin. And…
“Shit, didn’t you…? Did you fall one time, I remember you limping?”
Steve’s recollection of it is fuzzy—like a lot of things were in the winter of ‘84—but as he talks, the more he grows certain; it makes sense of a momentary instinct he’d had in The Upside Down, as the earth shook: seeing Eddie fall out the corner of his eye, and suddenly wanting to check whether he rolled his ankle.
“Uh, yeah.” Eddie chuckles slightly—there’s a thread of embarrassment in the sound. Didn’t think—um, sorta hoped you wouldn’t remember that, honestly.”
“I don’t really,” Steve says, then winces. “That sounds bad. I just meant—”
“No, it’s okay,” Eddie says. Steve can hear how he’s smiling. “Better for my ego this way.” He pauses. “You were really sweet about it at the time.”
He moves on quickly—Steve knows that’s partly just Eddie being himself, how he joyfully leaps from one topic to the next. But he doesn’t think he’s imagining the flicker of something shy, the softness in Eddie’s voice, you were really sweet about it.
Steve makes sure to commit it to memory.
#gently falling in love with every phone call ❤️#pre steddie#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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I Can Show You: Eddie Munson
18+ hoes, Minors dni, explicit sexual content
Summary: Eddie is curious about your experience with girls and you decide to send him something special to help him visualize a little better.
****
“So you’ve done it a lot?” Eddie presses. He’s not going to let this topic go.
“Done what?” you tease, lowering your voice just a bit as you hold the speaker to your ear.
“Come on baby, please tell me more.” Eddie pleads, his voice desperate on the other end of the phone.
“You wanna hear about me eating pussy?”
“Please.” Eddie moans, a beautiful rasp in his voice.
“I think I still have an old audio of me eating a girl out…” you chime, nonchalantly.
“Oh my fuck.” Eddie groans deeply.
“I can show you if you want..”
“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck.” Eddie rambles, his excitement making you giggle, you love teasing him, you can only imagine how hard he is already just from the thought.
“Let me see if I can find it.” you giggle, putting him on speaker as you head to your voice memos and begin scrolling. You see one marked 24 minutes.. that’s gotta be it.
You click on it and listen for a moment, there’s some giggling and then you hear the sounds of kissing. Mmmm.. there it is.
You skip through the audio, randomly pausing only to hear the filthy moans as you pleasure the girl. One part in particular stands out as she giggles “you’ve never done this to me before.”
He’s gonna lose his mind.
*****
He’s so excited. His cock already aching, pressed hard against his boxers as he waits for your message to come through. He hears a little ‘ding’, instantly clicking on the audio. Jesus fucking Christ.
He listens carefully as he leans back on his bed. It starts mild, the sound of the two of you kissing. That alone enough to make his cock twitch. He slips his hand into his boxers, shutting his eyes as he listens to every sound. “Oh fuck.” the girl whimpers as Eddie begins to stroke his cock slowly.
He listens intently, speeding up just a bit as she begins to moan at the actions of your mouth on her. “Oh, god. Oh, god. Yes.” The sound of you slurping her pussy comes through the phone, a filthy fucking noise as you suck her clit into your mouth over and over as she whines beneath you. “Yeah… mmmm.. ohh fuck.”
Eddie’s moans begin to flow with the girl’s as he fucks himself. Imagining your face buried in her pretty pussy. He swears he can see it. Your bedroom eyes looking up at her as you slip your tongue into her.
“Goddamn.” She gasps loudly as you keep fucking her with your tongue. “Fuck her baby, make her cum for me.” Eddie whines as the pornographic moans fill his ears. He imagines his hand tangled in your hair as he presses you even deeper into her dripping cunt.
“Oh god, oh god, oh yes, oh fuck” a consistent chant as you explore every part of her.
“Jesus, oh baby.. God, that feels good, yes.” The girl sighs happily as you lick long stripes across her pussy. “Fuck yes, baby. She loves that. Keep goin’ baby.” Eddie grunts to himself as his head presses back into his pillow. A beautiful image unfolding in his mind of the two of you.
“You never told me you knew how to do that.” Followed by the two of you giggling again.
Eddie’s mind tries to fill in the gaps. How dirty were you? What had you done to her? His dirty girl, fuck.
He hears a familiar sound as you moan into her pussy making him speed up his hand even more. He loved knowing how much you liked eating pussy. Maybe he could watch one day. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His hand works faster, jerking his cock at an insane speed, fucking into his hand as he imagines the scenario in front of him.
“Fuck, I love you. Oh baby.” the girl breathes out. Eddie smirks at this, something about it making you seem like a little devil. Making her fall in love just from your tongue.
He hears the girl speaking again, “God, let me do you. Please let me do you.” Fucking hell. He wants to watch. Wants to see you eat her pussy, wants to see her eat yours.
“I almost bought us a double sided dildo for when you came here.” The girl whispers, his naughty vixen only moaning in response. Little fuckin freaks.
“Do you love me as much as I love you?” the girl asks and Eddie hears you respond. A casual ‘mhm’. What a little liar. Out here acting like a fuck boy gettin’ pussy. Fuck, she’s turning me on.
“Oh god, don’t stop.” The girl pleads, practically gasping for air as he hears her wet pussy being lapped up.
“I want my mouth on you.” the girl whispers, once again begging for a taste of his girl. But you don’t give in, not yet. All he hears are more moans falling from her lips as you continue to eat her out. Fuckin’ munch.
“Fuck.” There’s his girl. He hears you moaning obscenely as you play with your food. He can hear everything. Every kiss planted on her clit. Every lick, every time you tug her clit back into her mouth.
His cock is slick with precum, doing everything in his power not to bust just yet. He wants to hear everything. Wants to hear her cum straight on your tongue.
And then he hears it. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Her moans getting louder and louder before her voice breaks into a silent cry. Eddie moans loudly, his mouth falling open as his cum covers his hand in spurts just as your tongue is covered in hers.
But you don’t stop, his cum leaks from his cock, dripping down his length as he hears her soft, breathy moans through the speaker as you clean up the mess you made of her, licking her pussy, gathering her sweet cum all over your tongue.
Eddie’s chest is rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to bring himself back to reality. The gentle kisses and giggles of you and your friend playing softly in the background as he lays still, eyes still shut.
“I think you almost killed me.” Eddie’s name pops up in your phone followed by a picture of his cock and stomach covered in his cum, making you smile. Kinky boy.
Yes this is based on true events 😏 damn, I had to listen to a 24 minute audio of me eating pussy… such a shame.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#Eddie Munson blurb#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#Eddie Munson x you
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“Touch me.”
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary: eddie urges you to communicate your sexual feelings for him.
warnings/tags: 18+ smut, spanking, fingering, hair pulling, decrophylia, reader is bad at communicating feelings, somewhat shy reader, reader is afraid of annoying eddie about sex, daddy kink, use of sir, sixth month relationship, reader wants to be hurt by eddie, thumb sucking, basically a fic about my first few times having sex lmao, pain play, all consensual, some angst if you squint, language. let me know if i missed anything!
Eddie knew when there was something on your mind. He could feel your eyes staring into the side of his face, the way you shifted almost anxiously. The relationship was still somewhat new. You’d only been dating for six months, but still, he wanted you to be comfortable enough to ask for what you wanted. Which he knew what it was. Your hand would slip onto his thigh, rub it casually before disappearing back to your lap. Your head would muzzle against his shoulder, kissing his clothed skin before retreating back to your spot on the couch.
Eddie knew you had your battles with things. Sex did not come easy to you at times, nor did communicating about it. But you needed to use your words with him, otherwise neither of you would get anywhere.
It had been almost two hours into the film you were watching. It was late and he was growing tired, moderately buzzed from drinking. The living room was dark and glowing from the staticy light of the television.
“Eddie?” You finally asked, meekly.
“Hmm?” He hummed, arms crossed as his eyes barely blinked from sleep.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You know you can.”
It was quiet again for several seconds. He looked over to find you biting your nails. “What is it?” He sat up slightly.
You laughed almost awkwardly, shaking your head with a deep blush. “I’m…are you tired?”
He smirked just barely. “Yes.” But he was never too tired for sex. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”
“No.” You shuffled your feet on the floor. “Do you…do you want to have sex?”
He couldn’t help but laugh, looking over at you with curious brown eyes. “I always want to have sex.”
You laughed too, a heavy one that was marinated in relieve. He didn’t reject you. You were always so afraid of that. You were so afraid of bothering him, getting on his nerves. Eddie had taken your virginity, and you weren’t that skilled when it came to sex. You didn’t know what to do at most times, but luckily Eddie knew what he was doing. Still, it made you feel foolish. You just wanted him to be happy, but you were just so damn touch starved all the time.
You always wanted him, but terrified he didn’t want you back. That it would be a sexual burden for sleeping with you.
Eddie cupped your cheek, bringing you into his side so he could hug you. “Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.”
He was so good to you, there was no reason to be fearful of him. You sighed heavily into him, nuzzling your body against his. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want to annoy you.”
“You think sex annoys me?”
“I just don’t want to seem needy or overbearing.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not, babe?” He looked down at you, lifting your chin with his index finger. “You don’t annoy me. You don’t overwhelm me. You worry me sometimes, because you’re always in your head thinking. I need you to communicate with me. That’s all I ask.”
Your eyes had teared up and you nodded, too emotional to speak.
He caught a tear with his finger. “I can’t always assume what you want. I need you to tell me what it is, baby. Tell me what you want.”
His mouth was dangerously close to yours, hovering, testing the waters, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you wanted him to do to you.
“I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is barely over a whisper. “Hard. Don’t be nice to me.”
He smirks just slightly. Your requests were just about as freaky as the things he imagined in his head. “Don’t be nice, huh?” He cocked a brow, dragging his thumb along your jawline. “What do you say?”
“Please.” You closed your eyes in a beg, already wet and throbbing for him. “Please, daddy.”
He pushes his thumb between your lips, passing your teeth and hitting the back of your throat. You suck it immediately, nibbling on his skin just barely. His jaw fall slack at the sting, chin raised in a dominant glare as he watches you. “Do you want me to hurt you?” He asks for you, knowing damn well that it’s what you want.
You’re blushing around his finger, popping him out of your mouth as you nod. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” You ask nervously. You were always afraid to communicate your sexual desires with him, too scared that it might frighten him away.
He can’t roll his eyes or laugh, he knows how delicate the topic is for you. “No, y/n.” He cups your cheek. “It doesn’t as long as it’s what you want. You’re still new to this. You need to go at your own pace. Just be yourself and I’ll guide you.”
You place your mouth on his, rising up so you can climb on his lap. Your hot against him, warm and throbbing. He can feel it. “Then hurt me.” You whimper, emotions building up in your chest, emotions you can never quite understand.
He kisses your neck, hot and sweaty kisses trailing down your skin, his teeth nibbling at your sensitive pale skin. His hands move down to your ass, quickly yanking down your shorts to grab you with thick hands. “You know your safe word. Use it when you need to. Don’t worry about me.”
Your heart begins to bang in your chest, hitting you with nerves and adrenaline, but you nod. You nod because it’s what you want and he knows how to give it to you. There’s no other person that can give you relief like the does.
“Stay still.” Your over his lap now, grabbing at the couch in front of you as he adjusts you to where he needs you, plump ass in the air and ready for him to do with what he wants.
“Yes, sir.” Your face is beet red, cheek pressed against your arm. You close your eyes, ready for what’s to come.
Your crying soon after he starts, whimpering and moaning as he spanks you, alternating cheek to cheek in a steady rhythm that has your legs twitching out from the uncomfortable burn. You move down to grab at his ankle, your cunt throbbing around nothing so painfully.
Eddie’s cock is hard, straining against his jeans as he cracks down his hand, leaving red marks on your skin that’ll surely leave a bruise. His panting, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck as he continues to spank you.
You lift your hips to meet his hand, begging for more and more of this punishment, if that’s what it was. Your choking on your tears, sputtering out a sob. “Ow!” You whimper.
He looks at you, but doesn’t stop. He knows you’ll stop him when you’ve had enough. You always do. Your ass is on fire and so is your pussy, leaking down your leg as you sputter out cries. “Touch me.” You beg, broken by your cries.
He stops as soon as you say the word, knowing you’ve had enough, and dips his fingers into your sopping wet cunt. “Did that feel good baby? You like it when daddy spanks you?”
You moan out loud, hot and pornographic at the feeling of his fingers. You can’t say anything only muttering a jarbled mhm. He doesn’t correct you for it, smirking as he fingers you quickly.
“Do you still want me to fuck you?” He lays his other hand on your head to stroke your hair, the other continuing to finger you. “Or do you want me to touch you like this?”
You surprise both him and yourself, climbing off his lap to attack his lips. He’s pushed to the back of the couch, limbs tangling together in a heap as you make love to his lips. “Fuck me, mean, Eddie.”
He groans into your mouth, hurriedly letting go of you to unbuckle his belt and free his long cock. He’s bending you over the couch, lifting your legs to hang off of the back so he can reach your hole. He teases you a lot about your height difference.
He moans when he pushes into your pussy and you sob out in relief, laying your hands on the couch to keep you from falling off. Your tits are bouncing underneath you, the sound of skin slapping together as he starts to fuck you.
He’s not nice about it, just as you asked. He’s hard and rough, fucking you mean and abusing your g-spot with heavy, deep thrusts that have you spewing out desperate cries.
“Oh, god!” You struggle to keep upright, your hands slipping from their position. “Fuck me, fuck, fuck me!”
He slaps a hand down on your red ass that makes you screech, recoiling back to his hips for more. He grabs a fist full of your hair, yanking you back up to him so your back is flush with his chest. “Is this mean enough? Should I let you cum? That’s mean, isn’t it?”
He fucks up into you sharply. “Huh? Tell me, angel.”
You’re begging to come, promising you’ll be good and you’ll obey him. He’s got you bent back over, grabbing your hips to thrust into you deeply, so harshly that you can barely form a coherent sentence. He bottoms out while he cums, shooting his load into you as you clamp down on his cock.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#stranger things season four#joseph quinn#eddie munson imagines
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Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition
Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex
Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.
A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think
You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.
But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.
Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.
You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.
“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”
“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”
“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”
“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.
His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—
“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”
“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”
“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.
“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”
“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.
“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.
“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.
“Then, what happens?” You mewl.
“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.
“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”
“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”
“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.
“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.
“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”
“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.
“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#stranger things#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things au#stranger things fanfiction#joseph quinn smut#joe quinn smut#teratophillia#kinktober#kinktober 2024#tw: monster fing#boyfriend!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fandom
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Well, if you're rough and ready for love (Honey, I'm tougher than the rest)
(edit: now on ao3!)
Eddie is suffering.
It’s hardly the first time, but it’s self-inflicted this time. At least it’s not going to physically almost kill him like the bats did.
Emotionally, sure, but not physically. That has to be some kind of win.
“Did you get Vecna’d? Do I have to get my trumpet? I don’t know if you can play Metallica on a horn, but I’ll try if you need me to.”
“Buckley, I would pay money to see you attempt it,” he says absently, his gaze never moving.
“Good, I could use the bonus.”
“Probably a good time to say I’ve only got Monopoly money.”
“Damn, there goes that plan.”
He hums an agreement, startling a moment later when a hand is suddenly blocking his view.
“Stop drooling, it’s not attractive.”
“Nothing about me is attractive to you.”
“Fair, but still. Ew,” she snorts.
“It’s not my fault, I can’t help it. He’s just so….” He doesn’t even have a word for it, so he just sighs.
“Who would have thought. Mr. Anti-Conformity drooling over Jock Extraordinaire. He’s wearing pastels. What have you become?”
“Shut up, he’s your platonic soulmate.”
“He is. And I love him. I just also know that he’s all sporty and preppy.”
“He can be as sporty as he wants as long as he keeps wearing those shorts he had on the other day.”
“Gross.”
“Even you can admit he looked good.”
“Sure, but you’re drooling again.”
He should be allowed a little drool. Steve had looked so biteable.
“He’s not even wearing shorts today, it’s too cold for that, doofus.” It was. Summer had well and truly turned into fall. Shorts had been replaced by jeans (except on the days Steve and Lucas played basketball, then the shorts came back out), polos more often than not were exchanged for sweaters, and by god, it was kissing him even more than the shorts and tank tops of summer had.
(This is without even considering the extreme number of shirts that Steve had sacrificed to become half shirts “for more air flow, because I can’t just walk around shirtless, obviously.” Because it was obvious. Showing his chest was too much, but the soft skin of his stomach, interrupted by the trail of dark hair vanishing under his waist band, wasn’t too much. Obviously.)
It made no sense. It shouldn’t have been worse with less skin showing. But it was because somehow, knowing that the soft knit of those sweaters was covering slowly paling skin, strong muscles and that beautiful, amazing layer of softness that rounded out hard edges…well, it completely ruined his train of thought until he couldn’t remember where he’d been going originally.
Worth it, just getting to imagine how Steve looked under his clothes.
“He’s worn this stuff before, why does it have you in a coma today?” Robin sighs, put upon even though it was her decision to sit with him.
“His hair.” Because that was the kicker today. Because Steve Harrington had never walked outside looking less than completely perfect.
Because Steve somehow managed to look amazing even roughed up and dirty.
Because Stevie was comfortable with himself and picked the clothes he liked and didn’t bother hiding scars that only proved how far he’d be willing to go to protect his loved ones and didn’t care about if he didn’t look perfect.
“He didn’t style it.”
“I can see how you’d get that impression, but I assure you he did.”
“What?!” That makes Eddie finally look at her, nearly falling over where he’s sat.
“Yeah. It’s just not hairspray. He’s trying something new.”
“It works for him.” The response is automatic. Because it’s true. Because poofed up and closer to god could only work on someone as pretty as Steve, and gunked up and water-logged could only work on someone as pretty as Steve, and bedhead could only look that good on someone as pretty as Steve.
Steve is just. So pretty.
But today, today it’s not firmly in place, soft even if it’s not going to move from it’s position. Today it’s not slicked back with water as he pops up from under it to splash one of the kids. Today it’s not half flat from where he slept on it, the same side he’ll leave pressed into Eddie’s shoulder if he’s not quite ready to start the day.
Today, it’s soft, curling around his ears, over his forehead, fluttering in the wind. It’s not the same kind of curly that his own hair is, the chaotic kind that if he tried to brush it, it’d eat the brush. It’s gentler, and he desperately wants to touch it.
“Seriously, I’m worried about your brain right now.”
“My brain is fine.”
“Close your mouth then.” Well, that’s embarrassing. He tosses a glare at her, and it’s just enough time to miss Steve heading their way. He does fall over where he’s sitting this time, but it’s so worth it because it makes Steve laugh.
He’d do an embarrassing amount of things to hear that laugh.
“You okay?” Steve asks, looking so fond and amused at Eddie’s antics that it makes his heart skip a beat.
It’s still surprising, having that look aimed at him, getting it from Steve.
“Fear not, Sir Stevington, I will survive,” he says, pushing himself up dramatically. Steve’s eyes crinkle as he snorts another laugh, and they both ignore Robin quietly bleching.
“Yeah? Good. I’d hate to see you get through everything just to get taken out by your own theatrics,” Steve says. Eddie doesn’t even have time to react – Steve’s smiling and that always slows him down – when his gorgeous, beautiful friend pulls off that pale green sweater and presses it into Eddie’s hands.
“Don’t get cold on me, alright? I saw you shivering,” he says, like he hasn’t just ruffled his own hair once more and completely distracted all of Eddie’s thoughts in the blink of an eye.
And then he’s gone, off to give another attempt at skateboarding (trying to follow Max’s instructions and letting her laugh at him when she hears him fall before she does whatever trick it is perfectly even without her sight), and Eddie is left standing there, watching that perfect, broad back covered by a too tight tee shirt.
“This is a whole new level of pathetic, I think.”
“Shup it,” Eddie says, then freezes, feels her shit-eating grin growing. “Shut up!” He groans.
She can laugh all she wants, he decides, pulling Steve’s sweater over his head. It’s warm with his body heat, smells like his soap and his cologne and him.
She can laugh, he’s got a beautiful boy to watch, one who looks at him with a promise of what’s to come, when the time is right.
#pre steddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#platonic stobin#kat writes#eddie is pining and i love him for it#inspired by Joe's hair lately and how totally soft it looks#(he looks so good I love him so much)
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Hiya! So I've just read Swollen Lips and absolutely loved it 😍 I was wondering if you'd maybe take that a bit further in another fic for innocent!reader with oral fixation? Like imagine she'd slept over at Eddie's trailer and he wakes up to her sucking and licking the head of his cock which is just poking out of the top of his pyjama pants... and then take it wherever after that, my brain just got stuck on that one little part, haha
to request • Eddie’s masterlist • main masterlist • part one
Swollen Lips II
Eddie Munson x innocent!fem!reader with an oral fixation
Summary; sweet girl sleeping over at Eddie’s when you just really need something, anything between your lips. Thankfully Eddie already taught you the perfect solution.
Thanks for the request!! I loved writing swollen lips, so I loved writing this as well! I got a little carried away! can be read as a stand alone, but would make more sense if you read part one -petal
wordcount: 1.9k
warnings: smut, swearing, dark themes?, dubcon, coercion, somnophilia (reader wakes Eddie up with head), Oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving) overstimulation, squirting, Eddie’s a bit of a perv with an affliction for reader’s innocence.
He was startled, and pleased. His shirt was clinging to his chest and back and he quickly ripped it off before his eyes focused on you.
His sweet girl on her tummy between his legs, teary eyed and desperate, whining softly. Eddie let out a shaking breath and pet your hair with one hand while he used the other to push his pyjama pants down further so you’d have better access.
Waking up to the sight of your kitten licking and sucking gingerly on the tip of his cock poking out of his pyjama pants was almost enough to knock him back out. And now? He got to bask in the sight and feeling of you moaning softly, whining contently now with his heavy cock on your tongue. “Better baby? That’s all you needed, huh?”
He felt so good, tired and groggy still, and you’d always make him feel good. He’d been with girls, and guys before, not a ton, but enough to have experience, to know what he was doing. You didn’t. You didn’t know what you were doing and that was evident, uncalculated and sloppy, drool leaking down your chin, tongue lapping his precum greedily; it all only spurred him on.
That paired with the fact that his was the first and only dick you’d ever touched, ever even seen. He wanted to keep it that way, make you his, make sure you didn’t know anything he hadn’t taught you and hadn’t seen anything he didn’t show you. He wanted to make sure he was the only one to see you bare and vulnerable.
You looked so beautiful to him right now. You always did, but right now, pleasing him because you needed it? He moaned loudly and you hollowed your cheeks, wanting to make him feel even better.
His fingers laced through your hair and tightened as he pushed his hips up a bit, slowly thrusting into your mouth. He focused on not making you gag or choke, which he thought might freak you out. He only wanted you to be comfortable and happy, so he reached down with his free hand and cupped the side of your face gently, thumb stroking your warm cheek. His touch made you blush. So beautiful.
His hands followed the motion as you moved your head up and down. You noticed the more you moved like that, the better he seemed to feel. Having something in your mouth calmed you down and made you feel good, yes, but making Eddie feel pleasure made you feel even better.
As you moved, your head leaned slightly into Eddie’s comforting touch that you loved. You figured he deserved the same, raising a hand up and under his shirt, gently petting his lower stomach. You weren’t sure if he could feel the love for him come from your hand, but the pink tinting his pale face was enough for you.
He was already close and then like earlier, you wanted more. So your mouth released his cock and dropped to his balls full with cum. Swollen, drool-covered lips left sloppy kisses and you took turns sucking on each of them, not caring to be gentle, but Eddie didn’t mind. He preferred it. He let out a half stifled moan that turned into loud broken moaning when he felt your hand, slightly cold and significantly smaller than his, wrap around his cock, jerking him off at the same paced he jerked himself off earlier. He prayed that Wayne had already left for work. Part of him was slightly disappointed he couldn’t be the one to teach you how to give a hand job now, but a bigger part of him was so proud of you for picking up on what felt good without him telling you. And all of him just felt good.
His hips shook and he whimpered. The sound made you look up at him while you continued worshiping his balls. Innocent, teary eyes looking into his almost made him blow his load right there. “Feels so good doll, gonna- you’re gonna make me cum soon sweetheart.” You didn’t respond to him, just giggled, he felt your smile against his sensitive skin and that was it.
He thrusted up into your hand, strangled breaths punching out of him as his toes curled beside you. He swore his legs shook as he came, but he couldn’t tell, too focused in watching his cum drip over your knuckles, a drop of it hitting your cheek. He swore he heard you whimper when he came.
He blinked quickly, trying to focus his eyes. His eyes focused just in time to watch you lick it off of your fingers, big smile on your face. He swallowed thickly as you moved up the bed to kneel next to him while he fixed his pants. He loved that smile.
“You did so good angel, thank you for that.” He grinned wide, big hand reaching up, swiping his cum off your cheek and gently forcing it into your mouth. He felt you hum around his skin, shuffling slightly. That’s when he noticed your thighs pressed together.
“You know baby.” He started, moving his hand from your mouth to your thigh. Gripping it softly, he zeroed in on the way your pretty lips dropped open. “It feels really good for me when you use your mouth down there. It can also feel really good for you if I use my mouth down here.” He explained as he moved his hand further up your bare thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your covered cunt.
“Really?” You asked, your eyes wide and cheeks warm. He watched you spread your legs just slightly and he was sure you didn’t even realize.
“Oh yeah- absolutely… Can I show you doll?” He asked, pupils blown, hand twitching to reach up further and aching to rub you through your shorts.
You didn’t say anything, just nodded your head and pushed your shorts and panties off. You were eagerly exposing yourself to him, that was enough of a yes to him.
Upon seeing how wet you’d gotten for him, he was quick to throw himself between your thighs. He was even quicker to lick a fat stripe up your folds, dragging his tongue over your clit. He realized slowly that he probably should’ve been slower, but the soft, shaky moan you let out washed away any previous care he had about that.
He held your thighs with a vice grip, feeling you squirm around as he buried his tongue inside of you. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, probably hard enough to leave bruises, but you didn’t complain, so neither did Eddie.
He couldn’t get over how good you tasted, how sweet, all for him. Licking your pretty little pussy was a million times better than settling for the crotches of the panties he’d steal from you. Something he’d never tell you about. “Taste so fuckin’ good.”
He didn’t have to see you to know you were blushing. “Thanks- thank you Eddie.” Your voice shook so obviously, he knew you were probably close. He knew you were definitely close when he went from licking to simply sucking on your clit as hard as he could without hurting you. All you could get out was desperate whimpers and his name, over and over again. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
“Feels- feels- it’s funny, feeling funny, E-Eddie.” You struggled to get the sentence out. Eddie laughed quietly and darkly, his hands gripping your hips roughly so you couldn’t pull them away like you were trying to do.
He removed his lips from your sensitive bundle of nerves for just a moment, “It’s okay baby- trust me.” And you did. He sucked your clit into his mouth and shook his head from side to side before you finally came, screaming his name.
He figured this was probably your first orgasm, definitely your first one from someone else, and he was right on both accounts. You shook and screamed. Screams turned into moans and moans turned into whimpers as you came down from this feeling. He could feel your walls twitching against his chin.
He couldn’t help himself as he slid two fingers inside you, amazed by the zero resistance. “Eddie! Too much- too much- no more, I can’t.” Your voice shook and he was quick to soothe you, free hand stroking your hair and you keened into his touch.
He shook his head with a pout that matched yours, he loved that pout. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, need you to trust me, hm? Like before? gonna feel good again real soon.” He rushed out and you nodded. He smiled, thumb finding your clit, tight fast circles as he thrusted his middle and index fingers in and out of you at a ruthless pace.
Every sound and word that came out of you sounded like one never ending whine, and he loved it. He knew you were gonna cum sooner than before, so sensitive and still so new to it all.
That proved to be right. His fingers inside you dragged against your g-spot over and over. You felt so weird, a new sensation started forming in your lower stomach. You weren’t sure what it meant, and you couldn’t get the words out to let him know. His thumb rolled just right over your clit and that was it. You heard a soft gushing sound and Eddie moaning before you felt your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. You shook and screamed, heart racing as a hot energy raced from your toes to your head.
It took a few seconds before you came down from your orgasm. Soon your eyes started working again, just in time to watch Eddie suck his fingers clean, another moan of satisfaction leaving his lips. Your eyes fell from his lips to his wet wrist, then to the dark puddle on his bedsheets, no idea how it came from you. Your face flushed knowing you made a mess.
“That was so- so hot. Felt good doing it, seeing that.” He quelled your worries and you smiled shyly at him, saying ‘thank you’. Always so polite, his good girl. His cock was rock hard again under the plaid fabric of his pyjama pants, but he’d ignore it. He’d already worked you to completion and then some. He decided to take it easy on you now and give you the aftercare you deserved. He wouldn’t break you completely like he wanted… Not tonight at least.
He helped you put your panties and shorts back on and pulled you close to him on the side of the bed, out of the way of the wet spot. He spooned you comfortably under the covers, with arm under you, holding you gently. With his other arm, he grabbed your jaw and turned your head to face him, placing a big wet kiss on your soft, beautiful lips. He could get used to kissing you. He laughed softly as you scrunched up your nose. “What’s the matter baby?” He whispered.
“Yucky, I don’t taste nice, ‘s not yummy like yours is.” He knew what you were talking about but couldn’t possibly agree less.
“Well, I love it.” He huffed playfully and rested his head next to yours, fingers finding their way to your lips and slipping past them so you could have something in your mouth as you slept.
#petalwrites#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#smut#dark fic#perv!eddie munson x innocent!reader#perv!eddie munson#eddie munson x innocent!reader#innocent!reader
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somewhere we can be alone
stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader
a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3
summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.
word count: 7.7k words
warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot
This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.
“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”
He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.
“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.
The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.
He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.
“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”
And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.
“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.
“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.
The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.
Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.
He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.
Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.
“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.
A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”
Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.
He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.
He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.
“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.
“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?
Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.
The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.
“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.
Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.
“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.
“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”
With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.
Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”
His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.
Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.
Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.
He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.
And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.
Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.
So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.
Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX
Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.
So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.
“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.
“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.
He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.
Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.
Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.
“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.
“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.
“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.
Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.
“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.
“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.
“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.
Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.
“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.
So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.
Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.
But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.
So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.
By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.
You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.
“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.
Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.
You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.
“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.
“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.
“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.
“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.
“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.
“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.
“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.
“N-No,” you whimper.
“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.
“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.
“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”
You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.
You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”
You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”
Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”
His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.
Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.
He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.
From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.
“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.
“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.
“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.
“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”
“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.
“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.
His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.
“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.
“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.
So close, so close–
He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.
“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.
The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.
You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.
His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.
You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.
And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.
If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.
Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.
You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.
“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.
“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.
“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”
You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?
“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.
A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.
“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.
“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.
“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.
He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.
“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.
“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”
And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.
That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”
Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.
His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.
He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.
“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.
“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”
He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.
“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”
You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.
“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.
And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.
You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.
“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.
So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?
He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.
Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.
You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.
Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.
He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.
“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.
“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.
Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.
“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.
“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.
“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.
“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.
“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.
“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.
“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.
Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.
“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”
You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.
It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.
“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.
You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.
But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.
“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.
“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.
You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.
“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.
“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.
You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.
As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.
Just you and him. In his van.
You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.
“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.
Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.
Opening night. It’s finally here.
You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?
Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.
Break a leg Juliet xx.
You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.
You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.
You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.
“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.
“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.
“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.
“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.
“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.
“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.
You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”
“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.
“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.
“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.
“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.
You seem unconvinced, still.
“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.
Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.
“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.
“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.
His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”
You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.
A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.
He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.
He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.
A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.
A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.
“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.
You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.
“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.
“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.
You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.
“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.
A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.
“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.
Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.
“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.
Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.
You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.
You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.
The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.
You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.
“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.
“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.
“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.
“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.
“So, how about that date?”
thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things#eddie munson x you#stranger things fanfiction#stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!reader#eddie munson fluff
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Steddie | 2.3k | first part
“Okay, what was that?” Gareth asks the moment they are inside the room they are using as a dressing room for tonight.
“What was what,” Eddie answers.
“You know damn well what I mean.”
Eddie doesn’t answer, putting his best poker face on.
“That weird mating ritual you have been performing with the boy in the front row the whole night, maybe?” Jeff adds.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Eddie says, his voice flat as he tries to avoid the other’s gazes. He takes a towel to dab at his forehead.
“Come on, man,” Freak butts in, “you told him to stay after the concert, you have told Chrissy to get them here. We said we were not going to be that kind of band, that we were going to be like My Chemical Romance: no groupies and after concert dnd sessions.”
“Yeah, if you go with that guy what happens to our dnd session.”
“We can play dnd any other day, okay?” Eddie snaps, his hands stretched in front of him. A part of him thinks he looks like that meme of Chris Pratt in front of the dinosaurs, the other part of him detests that he thought of him. “I will make it up to you.”
“Who are you and what have you done to our DM?” Freak asks, his voice serious.
“Yeah, what is this talk about postponing dnd for some boy?” Gareth adds, there is something in his tone Eddie doesn’t like.
“Some boy? Some boy? Am I the only one with eyes in this fucking band? He is the hottest person that has laid eyes on me and I’m not letting you fuckers take that opportunity from me for one session of dnd or I swear to God I am killing every one of your characters.”
The boys don’t answer, they look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
“Wow” a voice says from behind Eddie.
He doesn’t recognize the voice but the expressions on the rest of the band in front of him make him freeze. They go from slightly annoyed to wary and to bemused. Mainly a mix of all at the same time.
The sounds of steps approaching them break the silence that had fallen in the room, before a voice finishes breaking it.
“How does dnd work with you nerds anyway, are you all bards or what?”
The boys drop their mouths open. Eddie still doesn’t recognize the voice, but there is only one person it can belong to. He sounds just as good as he had imagined. Eddie is honestly afraid of turning around after what the boy- Steve- has surely heard.
“Don’t pay attention to him,” a woman’s voice says. There’s the sound of a hit and a quiet ‘ow’ from Steve under it. “He is just trying to sound all confident after whining-“
“Robin.”
“Telling me to not get my hopes up because he probably wasn’t anyone important and you just did this every concert-“
“Robin.”
“But of course he is the luckiest bitch in this planet and has his instant crush reciprocated and-“
“Enough!”
There are some muffled noises that Eddie can only guess are the girl trying to continue speaking. He wishes she wouldn’t stop. His knight in shining armour may be embarrassed, but the rant has put a smile on Eddie’s face, has given him confidence again. He crosses his legs and turns around slowly, his hands coming up beside him.
“By all means, let her continue.”
The adonis, the hottest man that has laid eyes on him, his knight in shining armour, Steve takes his hand away from the girl’s mouth and rubs it on his jeans. Eddie can only guess the girl has licked it. God he wants to be her so bad right now.
“Hey,” Steve says, his hand coming up for a small wave. “Sorry about Robin.”
“No need for that. I’m Eddie.”
“I know,” Steve answers with a cocky smile as he crosses his arms.
“Oh and now you are acting all full of yourself as if you didn’t ask for the name of the band like 20 times 2 hours ago.” Robin says.
“Will you please just shut the fuck up?” Steve asks with the confidence only a best friend can have.
“Not a fan then?” Eddie asks amused.
“Not really my scene,” Steve answers. There is a scoff behind Eddie, and if he wasn’t so lost in Steve’s brown eyes, he may have moved to swat whoever it was. “But I sure am a fan now.”
There is now a groan behind Eddie, but he can only focus on the way his heart jumps at the words, the way Steve’s mouth lifts in one side in a smirk, how his eyes spark.
“I can get you front row tickets to all the gigs, baby.”
There’s a gagging noise being Eddie, and this time he does turn around to swat at Gareth. The little shit just laughs at him.
When he turns back towards Steve he is looking between them with a smile on his lips and he looks- damn- he’s been looking beautiful since he saw him at the beginning of the concert that night, but now his hair is a mess from the almost two hours of sweating and moving around and Eddie’s on stage confidence is slowly being replaced by his fast beating heart.
“Look man I-“ Steve starts, “I don’t want to be a problem,” he adds, glancing behind Eddie as he bites his lip. The girl next to him- Robin- turns to him with an incredulous look on her eyes that Eddie is sure mirrors his own. “But you are hot, I want to take you on a date, and the others wanted to meet you.”
Robin rolls her eyes and looks at Eddie with an eyebrow up.
“The others?” Eddie manages to say, just before he remembers the teenagers around Steve all night.
“Yeah, they are with Chrissy, I asked them to give us five minutes before coming.”
Eddie is about to say something, maybe ask about the date Steve mentioned, but in a second the door is filled with said teenagers, the one with the curly hair in the middle of it.
“YOU GUYS ARE LEGENDS!” he exclaims. It makes Eddie less annoyed about being interrupted. No one has really called them legends before, they have just surpassed 150k listeners in Spotify.
It feels good hearing it.
The dressing room fills with chatter fast, the boys and the teenagers getting along without problem. They take photos, talk about music, about their instruments, about their dnd tradition. The bad part of it all is that Eddie gets separated from Steve. He catches his eye at some point and Steve sends a little wave his way that he answers. He is talking with Robin and Chrissy and, by what Eddie can hear, Chrissy is getting every video Robin has managed to get of Eddie’s and Steve’s interactions through the concert, even a closer video of the kiss than the one Chrissy managed to get. From what he can hear, she wants to post everything on their social media before ‘someone else does and steals the chance at going viral from them’.
Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about posting Steve like that, Eddie should have probably thought, about that before making out with the guy in front of all their audience. But he seems completely comfortable with all of it. Eddie guesses that comes with being as hot as Steve is and knowing it.
It’s some time later, enough that Eddie knows they won’t be able to stay much longer in the venue, that he finally has a chance to slip away. It’s perfect, he has just seen Steve leave the dressing room, probably in search of the toilet, and Gareth and the curly hair boy he has learned is called Dustin are so deep in conversation they don’t notice him stepping away from them and leaving too.
He catches Steve just as he is leaving the toilet. Eddie doesn’t stop to answer Steve’s surprised ‘oh, hey’ that turns into a more surprised ‘woah’ as Eddie pushes him back into the toilet and closes the door behind him.
“Hey” Eddie finally greets. Steve only looks at the closed door behind Eddie and then at him again with what Eddie hopes is amusement. God, he really hopes it’s amusement, he is just not realising how creepy this looks. “So, about that date.”
“Couldn’t wait until I came back?”
“No. I mean, yes.” Why is it so difficult to talk with a pretty boy? Eddie takes a deep breath, composes himself. Theatrics, he is good with those, they make him confident. “I was suffering, being deprived from your company by your companions, and didn’t have another option.”
Steve squints his eyes, “so you decided to have the date in the toilet?”
“What? No.”
Steve takes a step closer to Eddie so now their chests are almost touching. It hadn’t downed on Eddie before how they are almost the same height. It feels very important now when he has Steve’s face right in front of him, when he can look directly at his eyes, at how they drift down to Eddie’s lips. When his inevitably drift to Steve’s lips, the boy is biting his lower lip. “Eager.”
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, he may have miscalculated this. There’s something he wanted to say. “No, I-“
Steve chuckles, takes a step back. “Relax dude. I know you haven’t really agreed to the date yet, we got interrupted and all that.” Eddie is about to speak, to agree a thousand times to the date, but Steve keeps talking. “You just offered to buy me a couple of drinks and called me hot,” he smiles when he says that.
“I want the date.” Eddie says before Steve can keep talking, “as soon as possible.”
Steve steps back closer. “Eager.”
“We are leaving on tour, won’t be back for three months.” Eddie explains before all his brain functions completely shut down.
“I can wait three months.”
“I can’t.”
The next second Steve’s lips are on his, his hands are on his hair, and it only takes a second for Eddie’s to do the same. Steve is even a better kisser than he was in front of the audience. Steve pushes him against the door, brings a hand to his hip, pushes one of his legs between Eddie’s. Eddie just groans and lets himself be pushed and moved. Kissed. “Fuck,” he whispers when Steve pulls away for breath. Steve smiles, takes one of Eddie’s hands in his, and kisses him again. It’s so sweet and filthy at the same time Eddie might cry, but he just moves his hips forward, and Steve answers in kind, grinding against him and getting a groan out of both of them. Maybe the rockstars that hook up with people after concerts are onto something. Though Eddie doubts he would want to do this with someone that is not Steve.
A knock on the door startles them both, Robin’s voice coming from the other side.
“Steve?” Steve and Eddie stop kissing to look at each other in silence, their eyes wide. “Chrissy said we need to leave already and you’ve been in there so long I started to worry you were kidnapped. Wait, you are in there, right? Also, have you seen Eddie? He disappeared.” Steve moves, an innocent thing that has his groin brushing against Eddie’s. And he is only a man. He moans. “WAIT! Are you both in there? GROSS.”
Steve snorts, making Eddie smile. They can hear a couple of steps moving away from the door before they come back and there is a bang on the door.
“Steve! Come out you dingus, have you forgotten about your pack of kids?”
Steve lets out a whispered ‘fuck’ before he looks at Eddie with an apology in his eyes. Eddie lets himself be moved away from the door so Steve can open it to talk to his friend outside.
“Hey.”
Eddie opens the door more so he can also fit in the gap, Steve sends him a look, smiles at his appearance, and then looks at Robin again.
“Hey” Eddie greets too. Robin is looking at them and there is no hiding what they have been doing. She can surely see their bruised lips, their wild hair. Eddie just prays she doesn’t look down and sees the bulge in his pants.
“You two are gross, was making me see that once tonight not enough?”
“You have not really seen it this time,” Steve points.
“Still.”
“You are the one that came to interrupt.”
“And for a good reason! Your kids.”
“What about the kids,” Eddie asks.
“He promised to take them home.” Robin says.
“I promised to take them home.” Steve says at the same time, a resigned tone in his voice. He turns to Eddie, his brown eyes sad, and pinches his nose.
“Can’t she take them home?” Eddie points to Robin, and they both turn towards her again.
Robin takes a breath, stops, looks at them, looks at them, sees the tent in Eddie’s pants. Grimaces.
“FINE,” she agrees, and Eddie grins. “But you owe me. Big time.” She adds pointing at Steve.
“I’ll give you ice cream for life.” Steve says. It must be an inside joke because it makes Robin roll her eyes.
“Give me your car keys at least. Rockstar here can drive you home, can’t he?”
“I’ll have him home before eleven.” Eddie swears with a hand on his chest. The other two stare at him in silence. “A.m.” he adds.
“You heard him.” Steve says while handing Robin his keys.
“Okay,” Robin answers. She takes a step back. “Have fun.” She takes a couple of steps away before she turns around. “Use protection, he is a rockstar, we don’t know where his thing has been.”
“Hey,” Eddie protests, but Robin is already running away.
“She is kinda right.” Steve says with a shrug. Eddie purses his lips. “But I have an idea on where it can be in the near future.”
“Lead the way.”
Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s.
#i think that after this they end up not actually doing anything#they just find a 24h pizza place and have a date#laugh a lot. get grease all over themselves. make heart eyes. make out a bit more...#but they dont do anything else#they exchange numbers and text constantly those three months#and are disgustingly in love for the rest of time#the others dont know what to feel about it#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#my writings
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Here's a bit from a fic I'm not sure I'll ever start writing. for context, this is Corroded Coffin's first tour and they brought Steve along (bc Eddie would never even imagine having it any other way)
Jeff and Eddie are walking towards the green room discussing the way their melodies turned out at tonight's show, when Gareth catches up to them, a little winded,
"Hey," he pants, "Freak says he wants to try that tacos place we saw on our way into town, you guys up for it?"
Jeff simply nods and Eddie shrugs, "Sounds good" he answers,
Gareth claps them in the back and says to Eddie "Awesome, I'll go ask your wife",
He goes to skip ahead between them but Eddie grabs him by the scruff of his tshirt and yanks him back, causing his head to slap itself against Eddie's waiting palm.
Jeff snorts but Gareth isn't amused.
"OW dude! What the fuck?!" he demands with wide eyes. Eddie doesn't buy it for a second, launches into the same warning he always gives them,
"I told you! if he hears you saying that he could get really pissed, and then you'll get me into serious trouble!" he still has Gareth by the scruff, so he yanks him again for emphasis,
"Do you want me to be in serious trouble, man?" Gareth shakes his head, Eddie yanks again,
"Do you want me to be in serious trouble because of you?" Gareth frantically shakes his head but holds his palms up as he weasels out of Eddie's hold, half-laughing as he turns to face them and walking backwards as they advance,
"I do NOT say it around him!" Gareth defends, Jeff scoffs beside Eddie and Eddie just narrows his eyes,
"Plus, I told you that he's into you, man!" Gareth continues, Eddie rolls his eyes at that so he can't see the significant look Jeff gives him, agreeing with Gareth.
"This again" Eddie groans, "you're delusional. Just stop calling him that altogether and we'll be good," he insists.
Gareth just sighs "Fine. Can you go ask your very platonic friend, that you share a bed with every night, if he wants tacos? Or should we not even ask his opinion?"
Eddie flicks his ear and Gareth frowns dangerously, meeting the end of his rope.
Jeff says "Okay-" and holds his hands up placatingly, but Eddie doesn't like his chances so he sprints down the hall laughing and Gareth takes off hot in his heels.
Jeff groans as Freak catches up with him,
"Children." Freak states, tutting.
---
When Steve comes back to the green room he finds Eddie and Gareth wrestling on the floor.
"Um-" he starts and Eddie, who had been making Gareth slap himself turns excitedly to him,
"Stevie!! What did you think?" he asks, wanting to get Steve's opinion on tonight's show, and probably very specifically, the melodies he and Jeff had been working on for weeks now.
Steve's lucky that Gareth pulls on his hair and distracts him by slamming him on the floor, otherwise Eddie would have totally noticed him blushing.
He'll never get over Eddie wanting his input, especially when it comes to something as important to him as his music, his band.
"OW!" Eddie shouts as Gareth pulls his hair again, reaching to pull on Gareth's nose.
That brings Steve back. He ceremoniously places his hands on his hips, and calls "Children!",
It startles Eddie into slapping Gareth's arm away particularly hard and Steve hears muttered apologies as the two of them sit up criss-cross side by side.
"He started it!" Eddie accuses, playing along with Steve's babysitter bit, "He said we shouldn't ask your opinion on dinner," Gareth gasps indignantly and tackles him again.
Steve just sighs, used to them buzzing with energy after shows.
He hears Jeff and Freak enter the room and turns to them as if they had been there all along, "Dinner from where?" he asks them,
Freak looks up from the boys wrestling and says "Remember that tacos place we saw on our way in? last Thursday?"
Steve's expression clears with understanding, he nods "Oh yeah! Yeah, that place! Okay. Sounds good." Freak nods and goes to their clothes rack.
"Soon as these two finish," Jeff comments.
Gareth has Eddie in a chokehold now and Eddie is trying to lick his arm while also pulling on Gareth's hair.
"I should record you and put it up on the internet," Steve threatens.
Jeff joins in "It'd humiliate our lead man, but it's a risk I'm willing to take" he claps his approval on Steve's back and goes to the clothes rack as Freak goes to change his outfit.
Eddie taps twice on Gareth's arm to be released and Gareth raises both arms above his head triumphantly.
Eddie points a finger at Steve, then Jeff and says "I'm vetoing that!"
Steve frowns. "I didn't know you had vetoing rights" he teases, tilting his head.
"He doesn't" Jeff and Gareth answer in unison,
"You just said I'm the lead man!" Eddie whines to Jeff,
"I was talking about Gareth" Jeff shrugs.
Gareth puffs out his chest and Eddie shoves him, knocking him on his ass again.
Steve can't help but chuckle at them. Eddie turns to look at him with mirth in his eyes then, extends his arms to be helped up.
Steve pulls him to his feet with his heart in his throat.
"So?" Eddie asks,
"What?" Steve asks quietly,
"What'd you think?" Eddie asks again, quiet too like it's their secret, giving his arm a little impatient tap, reminding him he hadn't answered before.
Steve doesn't remember when he started smiling so big "It was good." he tells him, just as quietly, having created a little bubble for the two of them without meaning to, but not wanting to burst it.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, the corners of his mouth twitching up,
"Mmhm," Steve confirms, starts fiddling with one of Eddie's many chains, "I think the change you made yesterday was smart, the crowd was definitely wilder tonight" he comments,
"Well, that was Jeff, 'member?"
"Hmmm" Steve hums, letting go of the chain and leaning his elbow on Eddie's shoulder to turn to Jeff,
"Well that was a very smart change Jeff!" he calls loudly, enjoying Eddie's flinch. He has to clear his throat because his voice comes out raspy for some reason.
----
Jeff frowns, confused.
"The new arrengement from yesterday," Eddie clarifies, eyes on Steve. Jeff ignores him, but takes the clarification all the same,
"Oh! thanks! Man, did you see the crowd tonight?" Jeff marvels,
Steve says "That's what I was just telling Eddie!" and they launch into specifics that Eddie misses.
He's thinking he usually doesn't like being teased but his cheeks are burning and he can't feel anything other than a pleasant warmth right now, Steve Harrington broke him.
He shakes his head and comes back to reality just in time to see Steve turn to him and say, "You did great tonight, Eds. You were super comfortable using the space on stage tonight, people loved it,"
Eddie doesn't say he was only comfortable because he had a clear view of Steve in the crowd.
"Thank you Stevie" he tells him instead. Steve smiles brightly at him. It makes Eddie want to rub his face on Steve's shoulder.
He pinches Steve's waist instead, gets all up in his space, still buzzing with energy from running around on stage.
"Help me pick something out for tacos?" he requests, hopeful. He loves the idea of Steve thinking about what would look best on him.
"Yeah," Steve agrees, grabbing the hand that pinched him and leading Eddie to the rack.
Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie as they walk past him and Eddie flips him the bird.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#corroded coffin#steddie headcanon#pre steddie#stranger things#.#the start of this fic was a lil angsty and i think#maybe that's why i never worked on it
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i can not resist ex husband!eddie, so here is something about steve trying to parent trap you and eddie but then he just ends up fucking you both…look away and don’t perceive me
18+ — MINORS DNI
————
ex husband!eddie who loves you so much he gives you the house. so ultimately he’s homeless which leads him to moving in with his dear bestie steve. steve’s got a nice house, he’s not married but he’s got a cute dog named spike and the guest room is rather cozy.
and steve doesn’t mind eddie moving in, in fact he actually loves it! the house is big and it gets lonely (hence the reason for spike) so it’s nice to have someone to talk to every night before bed.
except eddie is kind of like…going through it.
totally understandable! he’s going through a divorce for fucks sake! he’s allowed to be sad and wallow in his misery, and steve is happy that eddie feels safe enough with him to do that in steve’s home.
but after the 3 month mark it starts getting a little pathetic. eddie doesn’t leave the house. he goes to work, comes back and keeps himself holed up in his room plucking the most devastating chords on his guitar.
and, again, that’s fine.
eddie can cope however he wants to.
but steve can’t help but feel…annoyed?
the truth is, you’re a fucking catch. no— you’re better than a catch— you’re the fucking motherload. and eddie is just letting you slip away!
“she won’t talk to me steve, it doesn’t matter what i want. she fucking hates me.”
which isn’t true, considering the times steve has talked to you, you’ve asked how eddie has been dealing with “the situation”
and steve just kind of has to lie and say eddie’s doing good even though that’s not the truth.
and steve can tell you care about eddie. that you miss him. that you still love him and this separation is hurting you more than anything.
so, steve starts planning.
which is… arguably never good for anybody involved in said plan, but fuck if it doesn’t always work.
it’s a lousy plan. lots of holes and loops that leave all fingers pointing to him, but steve just wants his friends back together.
so, basically, steve’s plan is to parent trap you and eddie.
he plays telephone between you both. sees you and reports back to eddie one day then does the same to you the next. and a lot of nasty words are said— you two complain about each other like two fucking grandmothers in a home— and steve is desperately trying to put out the fire on both sides.
and eddie doesn't get it. doesn’t understand why steve keeps defending you when you broke his heart. he gets irritated with steve and snaps, “you wanna fuck my wife? is that it?”
and as much as the idea of steve wanting to fuck you should piss eddie off, he can't help but...like it? like he wants steve to fuck you.
like he wants steve to seduce you and fuck you in what used to be yours and eddie's bed just to come home smelling like you and tasting like you when eddie smears his lips across steve's mouth. humming at the taste of you when he wraps his mouth around steve's cock. dragging his tongue over the sensitive bruises you leave on steve’s pretty neck.
god, it's so fucked up!
but it's the closest eddie can get to you. and eventually you figure out what steve and eddie are doing. what steve is doing. playing fucking puppeteer with you.
and fuck, it flips something within you that you never knew was there. can't help thinking about how steve will go home and fuck your ex husband just after spending an hour between your thighs. try to come off pissed when steve tells you to imagine he’s eddie but holy fuck it’s so hot. letting you fuck him with eddie’s name rolling off your tongue. letting you give him purple bruises so he can go show your ex husband how well he fucked you.
steve is just so kind.
you’ll both be forever in steve’s debt, that’s for sure.
#stevie’s such a good friend ugh#steve after fucking reader and eddie all day ‘today drained me’#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#ex husband!eddie#ex husband!eddie munson#eddie x reader x steve#steddie x reader#steddie x reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie x reader smut#steve x reader smut#steve harrington smut#drabble
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