#eddie in short shorts is too strong
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Buck: The heat is so bad my ice cream became juice, I hate this season. Eddie, in an open shirt and short shorts: I feel amazing! Buck, staring: ... Hen: You were saying? Buck: I revoke that statement, I need summer to be hotter, actually.
#incorrect 911 quotes#incorrect quotes#incorrect buddie#buddie#911 abc#evan buckley#eddie diaz#hen wilson#eddie in short shorts is too strong
400 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seven Sentence Sunday!
I was tagged by @prince-buck-diaz @panbuckley @cowboy-buck @alyxmastershipper @housewifebuck and @bucks118 thank you 🩷🩷🩷
I didn't make any of the other tags this week except for the poll thingy because I don't write linearly so most of my wip are a mess ™️ but my stablished buddie with Buck in Eddie's turnout won the poll and that's actually kinda structured now thanks to that and I plan on having this out this week (pray for me) so here are seven sentences (you can read another snippet of it here)
Eddie already has a hose, helping some guys from another station when he finally finds Buck again. He's following Hen, helping triage the less serious cases on the other side of the parking lot, and he doesn't watch for too long, it's barely longer than a glance, but he does a double take once the image fully registers. Because Buck is still wearing his turnout jacket. Properly now. And he doesn't really know what to do with what he's feeling when he sees the DIAZ across his back. Buck sometimes teases Eddie about being possessive, on the rare occasions he gets jealous enough that even Buck notices, but this is not that. The feeling in his chest is warner, not about the idea that everyone is trying to steal him away, or the thought that Buck would somehow leave him (an idea he rationally knows is insane, he knows how much Buck loves him, it's how much Eddie loves him, it's just that sometimes he gets irrationally jealous, he's not sure he could be blamed, just look Buck, who wouldn't be scared to lose him?), but about how much he likes the idea of sharing a last name.
I don't know who to tag cause I don't know who posted already because my dash has been crashing since last night so I'm not gonna tag anyone.
#please expect medical inaccuracies and bad firefighting protocols kspskapalapakapopa#and a lot of parentheses#i dont know what's with this particular story but the urge to parentheses all around was too strong kspskspskapaos#thanks for the tag#!!!!!#writing#911 wip#seven sentence sunday#buddie#this is short sweet and has a solid 800 words block of eddie thinking about how much he wants to marry Buck kspakapskao#i like this one dont know why is taking me so long#otp: you don't need to pretend with me
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
common tongue of you lovin' me
🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
____
By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake.
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night.
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his.
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim.
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly.
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first.
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening.
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up.
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing.
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him.
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy.
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat.
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release.
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths.
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?”
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck.
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x you#e.m. thots from lu#drabble#smut#mdni
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve and Eddie childhood friends is my kryptonite.
They meet in the woods outside Steve's house when they're eight and nine years old. Steve is out exploring because his parents are fighting again, something about a secretary and a jazzercize instructor that Steve really doesn't understand or want to listen to. He's done it before, venturing outside to explore the forest like it's his own private world. They never notice when they're fighting like that anyway and Steve always finds his way back.
Eddie, on the other hand, is new to Hawkins. He's nine years old and was just dumped on his uncle's front porch because his dad "doesn't need some brat who cries when the wires spark." Eddie was heartbroken and mad and scared and he loved his uncle Wayne but he didn't want to be comforted so he ran into the woods, Wayne too slow to catch him but calling his name.
After running a while Eddie trips on a root falling on his hands and knees, blood slowly blooming from his palms. He looks up and realizes he has no idea which way he came from or how to get back and releases all the tears he kept locked up tight since that night with the car.
That's how Steve finds him. He makes his way over, calling softly to the boy crouched by his favorite tree. The boy looks up, and the first thing Steve thinks is that he looks a little funny. His head is shaved down and his eyes are a little buggy and he's lanky in a way Steve's never really seen before. His second thought is that he always keeps bandaids in his shorts.
Together they sloppily patch up Eddie's knee and left palm, Steve pressing a smacking kiss to the other boy's knee like he's seen the other moms do for their kids at the park. They introduce themselves and Steve takes him to all his favorite places in the woods. They play knight and dragon and talk about how mean dads are until the sun starts to set.
Eddie gets nervous when the sun starts to set, not used to the unique darkness of the woods, but Steve is used to it. He takes Eddie by the hand and asks him where he entered and guides him home. Wayne finds them like that, he's clearly been doing his own forest wanderings in his search for Eddie and is quick to sweep his nephew into his arms and hold him close. Edde excitedly introduces his uncle to his "new best friend, Steve," his mood lifted significantly since that morning.
Steve waves goodbye and slips away before Wayne can insist on taking him home in the truck, but that's far from the last they see of Steve. After that night, every time Steve's parents get in a fight or his parents go to one of their long, important business dinners without him he makes his way through the woods and to the Munson trailer. The first time it happens Wayne doesn't even know what to say. Steve looks every bit the little Harrington that he is with his little Khakis and perfectly pressed polo knocking on the trailer door all proper-like.
"Hello, I'm here to see Eddie. He's my best friend."
Before Wayne can figure out what to say there's a blur of oversized black hand-me-down clothes barrelling through the door and tackling the younger boy to the ground.
"STEVE!" Eddie absolutely screeches. Wayne is half worried he might take out one of the kid's eardrums, but seeing the wide smile Eddie has plastered on his face, Wayne decides not to say anything.
From there on Steve and Eddie are thick as thieves. Steve spends all his free time at the Munson trailer playing with Eddie and the stray animals. Despite some of Wayne's concerns, their friendship remains strong through the years. With Eddie in the grade above and the grades almost completely separated, they hardly get to interact at school, which only serves to fuel Eddie's disdain and Steve's disinterest in school. Middle school is much the same. They spend almost every waking moment together in the woods or in the trailer but live almost separate lives at school. It's not even that they're trying to hide it, it just never comes up.
When Steve starts climbing up the social ladder it isn't intentional at all. He doesn't have a lot of friends in his grade, certainly not any that come close to Eddie's status in his life, so he kind of just talks to everybody. He plays on the middle school basketball and baseball teams and does well, and before he knows it people are suddenly flocking around him and vying for his attention. He doesn't pay it much mind honestly.
Eddie on the other hand never fits in anywhere. Steve and Wayne are just about the only people in his life he cares about, and despite their overwhelming love and acceptance he can't help but turn out cynical. He struggles with anger management those first few years with Wayne, frustrated with being abandoned by his dad and separated from Steve and it all culminates in him being ostracized from his peers.
It isn't until high school that the rest of Hawkins clues into what's been in front of their faces the entire time. The high school is much less separated so while they won't be sharing any classes, there are many more opportunities for them to hang out.
On day one of Steve's freshman year he's already on the roster for both the basketball team and the swim team and there's already a small group of boys hanging around his locker ready to ride his coattails. They notice Steve seems distracted, turning his head back and forth when he's not struggling to get the lock undone. When he finally manages to wrestle the thing open, Eddie makes his move.
In a move reminiscent of that first day on Wayne's front porch, a blur of black second-hand clothes and dark curls barrels into Steve from the side taking him down to the linoleum floors. The guys around Steve's locker are ready to step in and beat this guy to a pulp until they hear raucous laughter coming from the both of them. They are treated to the sight of rising King Steve and established Freak Munson rolling around on the floor like unruly puppies and don't know what to do with themselves.
When the boys calm down and stand up, arms slung comfortably around each other's shoulders, they're met with the very confused faces of Steve's kind-of-friends.
"You know this guy Steve?"
"You and Munson are friends?"
"What the fuck was that?"
Steve and Eddie share a very confused look, neither of them having realized that people have no idea they're friends. They look back at the guys with two devastating "are you dumb" faces and say:
"Uh, yeah, Duh."
--------
Years down the line, after queer awakenings, a healthy dose of heartache for them both, and a properly dramatic star-lit confession Eddie and Steve both absolutely love regaling anyone who will listen with their love story. Steve insists that he knew from the moment Eddie looked at him with those big bug eyes that he would love Eddie Munson for the rest of his life. Eddie, on the other hand, insists that's bullshit and instead insists that he was the one who fell first "it doesn't count if you were a child Sevie you didn't understand what love was!" that day in the hall when he realized how tall and handsome his best friends had become when they got up off the floor.
Either way, they both eat up the looks people give them as they share their tales of pining, self-discovery, and true love.
#I am drunk this might not make any sense#steddie#dreamer speaks#fanfiction#childhood friends au#steve harrington#eddie munson
914 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Boy Next Door - Mechanic!Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader (Smut)
Summary - You make a compromise with your new neighbour that grants him desirable compensation.
Warnings - Strong Language / Voyeurism / Public / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Fucking / Deep Throating / Spitting / Slapping / Dacryphilia (?) / Praise Kink / Degradation / Fingering / Cum Eating / Squirting / Multiple Orgasms / Anal (?) / Spanking / Creampie
Word Count - 5.2K
~~~~~
You couldn't stand it anymore.
Another cough of an engine. Another bang on the hood. Another squeak of a wrench. You were gonna lose it. You had been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying to drown out the incessant sounds. You had listened to music on your Walkman, but you couldn't seem to turn it loud enough. You had shut all the windows of your trailer despite the sweltering summer heat and even almost suffocated yourself when covering your ears with your pillow.
Nothing seemed to work.
You had only moved into Hawkins' Forest Hills Trailer Park about a week ago, and this was the fourth night in a row this had occurred. You had yet to meet any of your neighbours, but you knew that there was one that you already couldn't stand. You wondered how the others put up with it, or perhaps they were so used to it that it never bothered them anymore. You had yet to get to that point.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Clank!
Squueeaakk!
Enough was enough. With a frustrated huff, you threw the covers off yourself, leaving you in a not-so-modest tank top and shorts. It was much too warm for anything else this time of year, and you were far too vexed to change. You flung the front door open and stormed your way out of the trailer.
It was still relatively light out. The sun sat low, lighting the western sky in a golden glow, and the daytime moon had risen high above Hawkins, ready to snuff out the sun's tenacious flame. The chill of the impending nighttime air sent shivers along your hot skin, cooling you down from being stuffed in your unventilated bedroom.
Outside the trailer on your left, a handsome man, roughly the same age as you, had his head buried in the engine of a car. He took a step back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and eyed his work so far. His brow creased, and his lip twitch with dissatisfaction. You admired the soft waves of his hair as he raked a hand through it, accidentally pulling some strands loose from its bun. His arms were exposed in his oil-stained wife beater. The ripple of his toned muscles enamoured you as they moved, and you took a fancy to the tattoos that adorned them. His eyes were deep and earthy like potted soil, glistening in the setting sun, making them swirl like pools of honey. The sloping bridge of his nose scrunched with a disgruntled sniff, and his plum bottom lip was tucked between his teeth in concentration. You were captivated by their movement as they soundlessly shaped his words, when suddenly a hand waved at your face.
"Can I help you?" He impatiently repeated for a third time, snapping you out of your trance.
Your mouth bobbed open as you tried to remember why you were out here in the first place. You hated that you had put that furrow across his brow as he waited for your response, itching to get back to work. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot, turning you molten from the top downwards and melting under his gaze. You feared he was far too handsome to stay mad at.
You cleared your throat, "Yeah, could you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."
His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've got a deadline to meet, and I work through the day. It's the only chance I get to work on it." And he went back to work as if that was a good enough answer.
You scoffed, irritation slowly rising again. You told yourself it didn't matter how hot his grease streaked muscles were. "Listen, I've got a job interview tomorrow morning that I'd rather not miss because I overslept."
"Congratulations, I hope it works out for you." There was a strain in his voice as he tightened another bolt, oblivious to the point you were trying to make. You clearly weren't getting anywhere with this guy.
"How about a compromise then? You can keep working but just promise to keep it down?"
He looked up at you over the hood of his car with those big brown eyes that were hard to resist melting for. He raised his eyebrows challengingly before stalking towards you, wringing his hands on an old rag. Your heart quickened, and you refrained from squeezing your thighs together when he licked his pink lips and threw the rag over his wide shoulder. He towered over you, close enough for you to smell his manly musk and see the drops of sweat trickle down the delicious skin of his neck that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, sweetheart. It's not exactly an easy task to do quietly." He spoke to you, but his eyes not-so-subtly gawked down your shirt (his vantage point giving him a direct view down it), only locking eyes with you when he had finished talking.
You resisted rolling your eyes - men were so easy to read. So you played into it. You arched your back slightly to push out your breasts, the cool breeze perking your nipples through your top, and rested a flirty hand on his bicep.
"Surely you deserve a break?" You stroked a finger down his arm teasingly and batted your lashes at him. "I mean, you said it yourself. You work all through the day, and now you're working all through the night? Even a strong, hard-working man like you needs to have a break sometimes."
His eyes lingered on your pouted lips, just long enough for you to catch him. His eyes darted around with every thought as he considered your proposition before staring at you intently. "If I do this for you, what do I get out of it? I'm gonna need some sort of compensation for the delay I'm gonna have."
You played with the hem of his tank top, tugging it playfully and revealing the defined muscles of his pecks. You were having far too much fun toying with this handsome stranger, and his devilishly good looks only made it that much easier to play your part. Besides, you thought he deserved it after causing you so many sleepless nights.
"I'm sure you can think of a way for me to thank you." You whispered seductively.
"You mean like a..." He looked around cautiously to make sure there was no one to overhear. "A you-know-what?" He whispered.
"A 'you-know-what'?" You laughed at his phrasing. "That all depends."
You spun in the direction of your trailer whipping your hair so he could smell the addictive scent of your shampoo. You swayed your hips as you walked back to your trailer. You were pretty sure that your ass cheeks were showing under your shorts, but that just made you all the more enticing.
"Depends on what?" He called, standing there like a lost puppy.
You skipped up the steps and peeked your head out the door. "On how good a night's sleep I get." You winked and shut the door.
~~~~~
The sun beamed just as brightly as it had the day before, yet you didn't let the sticky, stifling heat ruin your mood. You pranced out of your car, stilettos in one hand, and your most professional blazer draped over your arm in an attempt to cool down.
You practically danced up the steps to your trailer when a voice called out. "Hey! How did the interview go?"
You turned to see your neighbour from last night jogging towards you. He looked every bit as handsome as he had been the night before, only in the heat of the early afternoon sun he had decided to go shirtless. Your eyes shamelessly surveyed his exposed torso. His skin was smooth and glowing golden from working outdoors all day. He had more tattoos decorating his toned muscles that trailed down to his happy tail and v lines. You resisted raking your hands along his chiselled body.
"Great!" You beamed, "they said they were gonna call me back tomorrow."
He nodded. It was nice of him to ask, but you knew he was interested in something else. "And erm, how did you sleep?"
Your mood just got even better. You'd had a semi-decent sleep last night, but with the nerves for your interview, you could hardly keep still. But that didn't really matter to you anymore. The swell of pride from a successful interview was enough to keep your adrenaline charged up.
Despite flirting with your neighbour last night, you'd had no intentions of offering him any 'compensation', even if he had held up his end of the bargain. But after your interview went so ridiculously well, you decided that you deserved a little treat for yourself.
And by little, you meant a 6ft, tall, dark, and handsome treat.
You smirked, stalking towards him, and wrapped your free arm around his neck to pull him down to your level.
"Like a baby." You whispered in his ear.
A dangerous smile spread on his face. He bravely rested his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You rested your hand on his chest to steady yourself. He drew himself closer and closer until your lips barely brushed together.
"Do you wanna come inside?" You whispered against his lips before they could touch.
"Oh boy, do I." He replied dreamily.
You tried not to blush at the unintentional double meaning and lead him inside of your trailer.
You were suddenly very embarrassed by the state of your home. While you had all of the basic furniture set out, you had yet to properly decorate, and you still had moving boxes dotted around your home. Luckily, Eddie didn't seem phased by any of this. You doubted he even gave himself a chance to look around because the second he stepped inside, he pounced on you. Your shoes and blazer fell from your hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His lips latched onto yours desperately, biting and tonguing you messily with an urgency that left you breathless.
His large hands had no intentions of resting as they raked up and down your body eagerly, already untucking your blouse from your skirt and popping the buttons open. Your hands were hardly any better. You scratched your nails lightly along his pecks and down the deliciously compact muscles woven over his stomach. You felt him all over as if you were applying an imaginary balm over the expanse of his hot flesh. His skin was tacky with sweat from the midday heat, but that didn't stop you from wanting your tongue all over his body.
"What's your name?" You breathed between kisses.
"So you know what to scream later?" He mused, forcing his tongue between your lips.
You moaned around it before pulling away. Your tone sparked with frisky playfulness. "Why else would I ask?"
His laugh rumbled against your lips before he moved back to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours with a dazzling intensity. Your breath stuttered in your throat. His intense beauty overwhelmed you for a moment, and you wondered if the Goddess of Love had carved him herself.
"It's Eddie." He smiled softly. "What's yours?"
"Eddie." You repeated to yourself, testing how the name tasted in your mouth. You liked how it felt on your tongue.
Eddie.
You told him your name, and he smiled like you had handed him his favourite flower.
"Beautiful." He murmured to no one in particular before he latched his mouth onto yours once more.
It was as if you had never taken pause. The intensity of the kiss was just as strong as it had been before, if not stronger. The two of you seemed more desperate somehow, like exploring each others mouths was how you would become akin - tasting each others memories, sucking up stories and lapping up every word from the tips of your tongues.
You pulled away from his kiss as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders and began suckling the salty skin of his neck. You could feel your core swelling at the hitch in his breath. It didn't occur to you how difficult it would be for him to hide your hickeys and you only hoped that he would choose to display your artwork instead.
Your hands continued lower until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. You reached for his belt, only to find it already unbuckled and his buttons undone. He gave you a smile with far too much amusement for him to feign sheepishness effectively. You managed to wipe that smile off his face, however, as your hand compelled itself to burrow into his boxers. His eyes flashed with surprise at your boldness before they rolled into his skull. You revelled in satisfaction as his face rippled with pleasure. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the weight of him in your hand; thick and heavy, just weeping to be engulfed by any of your tight little holes. With your other hand, you pulled his zipper the rest of the way down to let his jeans fall to his ankles, and you allowed yourself to fall with them.
It was only when you rested on your knees and could see between Eddie's legs that you noticed your front door was still wide open and the two of you were entirely exposed before it. You felt a surge of arousal shoot through your veins. There were no trailers opposite yours, and you looked out directly to the road. There was no one around, however. Nearly the entirety of Hawkins would be at the community pool on a day like this, but that did nothing to dampen the rush of getting caught. You quickly unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. Your nipples perked almost instantly as if testing the waters of how much you could get away with, challenging somebody to drive by - to stop and watch. The exposure had so much slick dribbling onto your panties that you feared for a brief moment that you had wet yourself with excitement. Eager to continue, you forced his boxers down so his fat, throbbing cock sprung in your face.
It was beautifully red and crying pearly tears of desperation that you lapped up hungrily, not wanting a drop to go to waste. Eddie hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure and running his fingers through your hair. He didn't force you on his cock like he wished he could, but instead he brushed your hair from your face, angling your head so you looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled on your chin to open your mouth. And you did all of this willingly, practically drooling just imagining the sweaty, salty taste of his cock sliding down your throat. You stuck out your tongue eagerly and allowed him to slap the head of his cock on your warm wet muscle. Eddie didn't want to be rough with you. He'd only just met you - he didn't even know if you liked it rough. But there was a fierceness blazing in your eyes, challenging him to do his worst.
And when Eddie couldn't stand anymore of his own self-teasing, he forced his entire length all the way down your throat in one fell swoop, and it welcomed him without hesitation. He released an animalistic groan at the feeling of the fleshy walls constricting around his large shaft with a gag. You sniffed the tears from your eyes when he slid from your throat, a pop reverberating from your trailer walls from the suction of your cheeks. He allowed you a few breaths before snaking his way down your oesophagus and into your lungs. He held himself there before testing a few small thrusts. The force of his hips pushed him impossibly deeper as he stole the air from your chest. You tapped his leg for him to release you but he held the back of your head firmly, forcing his cock to remain sheathed inside your heaving gullet. You could feel the pressure burning your temples as you whined around Eddies length, begging him for air. He pulled you back by your hair, his cock throbbing as he watched you cough and splutter for air, tears rolling down your cheeks and a string of spit running from his cock to your chin. He positioned your head so your face was pointed directly at the ceiling. He hovered above you admiring the enjoyment on your face.
"Open." He demands.
You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue. You expected him to force himself back down your throat, but instead, he violently spat into your mouth. The majority of it landed on your tongue, but a few splashes landed on your cheeks and chin. But that didn't matter when Eddie used the head of his cock to swipe it all up and ram it down your throat. He repeated it a few times, making sure he got it all off your face before prodding the head of his cock into the inside of your cheek. He kept it there and spat on his length, watching it run down his shaft and into your fuckable mouth.
He gave your cheek a few quick taps, moaning as he felt the bulge of his cock through it. He did it again, harder this time, testing how hard you would let him go until he was full on slapping his cock through your face. He loved the heat blooming on your abused cheek, hoping to smack a matching one on your ass soon, and your tears had his eyes rolling back. It was all too much and not enough for him.
He immediately plunged back into you, setting a brutal pace, the blunt head of his cock bruising your throat. You gagged and moaned and cried around his length, but none of it was an attempt to make him stop.
Eddie could feel himself reaching his climax dangerously quickly. The soft walls of your throat were so irresistible that he couldn't help himself but pound into your face. He was moaning wildly and panting heavily. He found himself infatuated by the way the sunlight reflected off the sweat, spit, and tears on your face, glistening like the stones of a babbling brook.
A swift breeze swept in from behind and he moaned at the feeling of it cooling the spit on his hot length. It was only then that he too noticed the door was still wide open.
Dirty fucking girl he thought to himself.
You had been facing the door this whole time and knew it was open, yet made no attempt to confide yourselves in the safety of your home. Holding onto the back of your head, he pulled you towards the door, positioning the two of you so you were side on. The two of you were completely exposed, and there was definitely no question about what the two of you were doing. The thought of getting caught, picturing people gathering and watching in shock, and even people filming on their video cameras were all so arousing to Eddie. His cock throbbed in agreement.
He so desperately wanted someone to walk by.
To see the kind of power he could have.
The new girl in town was a whore for the town freak.
Eddie liked that idea very much.
It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he forced himself to stop. He removed himself from you, and you gasped for breath. His hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing the tears from your face with a glaze of adoration over his irises.
"You're fucking incredible." He praised. "Such a good fucking girl. How lucky am I to of found someone like you."
His praises had your juices dripping on the floor, integrating with the other fluids that dripped from your face. You smiled drunkenly at his words, and your chest warmed with pride.
"Stand up for me, sweetheart." Eddie held out a hand to help you up.
You stood on two shaky legs, already feeling the bruises forming on your knees. When you raised to your full height, Eddie immediately pushed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.
"I know how much you want me to cum down that pretty little throat of yours, baby, but I just gotta be inside you."
You moaned a sigh, your cunt already clenching in anticipation.
"You're such a dirty girl aren't you sweetheart? Just look at how desperate you are for my cock. You want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum?"
"Yes." You whimpered, throat raw and hoarse.
He turned you around, pressing you against the door frame so half the length of your body leaned outside. You couldn't help the jolt of anxiety that struck you in the chest. As Eddie pushed his front to your back, you couldn't help but take a glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody was there.
"Let them see."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't matter if there's people. Let them see. Let them see this perfect fucking body. Let them wish it was them fucking this sweet little cunt instead of me."
You could have came from his vulgar words alone. You nodded obediently and let him bunch your skirt up around your waist. Eddie released a devilish laugh at the juices running down your legs. His fingers toyed with your clothed folds, spreading the slick along the damp material and gliding effortlessly over your aching clit. You moaned at the relief but quickly drew a hand over your mouth to muffle it.
"Ah, ah, ah." Eddie tutted, forcefully gripping both of your wrists and pinning your arms behind your back. He was able to hold both wrists in one of his large hands whilst he used the other to tug your panties around your ankles.
Without warning, he plunged two long fingers into your tight heat, stretching you wide with his thick fingers. You whimpered at the sensation. You could only imagine what his cock would feel like. You could feel it now, in fact, burning red hot against the supple cheek of your ass.
His fingers moved frustratingly slow in and out of your aching hole, curling them when it reached his knuckles. Your juices squelched out of you with every breach and dripped down his forearm. After a few minutes of pleasureful torture, he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them hungrily.
"Fuck, I gotta have a taste of that." He whispered to himself, and squatted down so his face was level with your dripping cunt.
He still had one hand holding your wrists to the small of your back, but his other hand pulled at your thigh, encouraging you to take a step back so you could bend over more. As you did, you found yourself spreading your legs wider too, letting him see how your gaping pussy winked at him with every clench. Your pussy glistened just as beautifully as your face had when it was caked in tears and spit, only your pussy cried to be absolutely assaulted by his cock. And he would give that to you eventually.
But not right now.
Instead, he used two fingers to spread your folds apart and gently peek your clit out from under its hood. That feeling alone was enough to make your legs start trembling again. So when he licked a powerful stripe over you, you just lost it completely.
His mouth practically molested your pulsing cunt. He tongued messily over your clit, nibbled at your folds and plunged his tongue as far into your pathetic hole as he could. His nose prodded at your asshole with every swipe of his tongue, causing you to push your hips back into him.
"Eddie, please." You begged him to relent - to just fuck you senseless.
"Oh no sweetheart, not until you cum on my tongue. Be a good girl, and let me taste you."
And with that he suckled onto your clit like a calf at its mother's teet. He was harsh and sedulous, in a single-minded frenzy for you to grant him a taste of your sweet elixir straight from the source. You grant him that wish gladly, feeling it trickle from you in a steady stream following each clench of your orgasming cunt.
Eddie drank it all up eagerly, slurping your pussy to get every last drop out of you. His eyes sparkled with both amusement and desire. He had slept around with a handful of women, true. But he had never seen a woman squirt before.
He was addicted already.
He felt it had become his life's purpose to watch you squirt for him over and over again until there was nothing left inside of you.
His cock was practically purple at this point, and it dribbled lazily onto the floor. He needed to feel you spasming on his cock, drenching his length with your squirt.
You were too high to be embarrassed about how quickly he had made you cum. He barely gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he forced his cock to fit inside of your quivering cunt. You weren't trying to resist, his cock was just simply too big.
And he was hardly halfway in.
You cried at the stretch, moans slipping in between sobs. At the sound, Eddie couldn't resist anymore. He spat harshly where your bodies met before using your arms to force you backwards onto his full length. A sudden sharp pain bolted through your core, and you released a strangled cry. But he did not stop.
Your cries spurred him on, and he drove himself harder and faster into you. His breath was a ragged growl in your ear as he bent his body over yours. He bit and sucked on your neck and shoulders with a severity that delighted you. There was no tenderness in any of his actions. He was a ravenous animal feasting on your flesh, doing with your body as he pleased.
But you did not want him to be gentle.
Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.
You would tell him if you could, but the pain had snatched away your voice. In the beginning, it blazed like a fire, burning up any innocence that was left within you. Until pleasure snuffed out that raging flame. Instead, the embers glowed hotly deep in your core.
You moaned wildly like a whore at every harsh thrust. If, for some reason, any of your neighbours were sat indoors, they would undoubtedly be able to hear what was going on. That only egged you to moan louder. Eddies name rolled repeatedly from your lips with only gasps and grunts between each one. Eddie loved that the entire trailer park could hear you screaming his name. He hoped his annoying neighbour Travis, who had come to Eddie earlier in the day, boasting about how he was gonna ask the hot new chick out, was sat weeping pathetically as he jerked off to you moaning another man's name.
"Oh fuck baby."
"That feels so good, baby."
"Baby, I'm so close."
"Nuh hun, you know what my name is, sweetheart. Say it."
Every stroke pushed the breath from your lungs, expelling the air from you in arousing moans.
"Say it." He slaps a demanding hand to the cheek of your ass.
He pounded harder, only making it more difficult for you. The best you could do was a pathetic whimper. He slapped your ass again before yanking your head backwards by your hair until your body released from the doorframe, and he was the only thing holding you up.
His lips pressed to your ear. "Be a good girl and say it."
Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure as you panted wildly. He released your arms from your back and used his thumb to gather your creamy spend that had ringed around his cock as he thrusted. He circled your tight asshole with a light pressure before forcing it inside. It sucked him in gladly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself thrusting inside of you.
"Fuck Eddie!"
"That's it, sweetheart. That's my good girl. Say it again."
Your legs shook violently beneath you, causing Eddie to wrap his other arm around you to keep you up right. His hips never faulterd once, clapping loudly against your ass. Your head was spinning from feeling completely filled to the brim.
"Fuck! Eddie!"
Your pleasure was swelling deeply within you, expanding like a balloon seconds away from bursting. Eddie could feel both of your holes struggling to tighten around him as you orgasm tietered on the precipice.
"C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and soak my cock."
His words send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull that you wondered for a moment whether you had just blacked out from pure ecstacy. Eddies hips remained ferocious as your walls milked him for all he's worth. The feeling of you spasming around him, your squirt soaking his cock, splashing everywhere with each thrust and running down his legs was enough to have him shoot his thick load deep inside of you.
"Eddie!" You moaned at the feeling, somehow feeling fuller than ever.
"What was that?" A voice called from the distance.
Approaching footsteps caused you to rush in a flurry of panic as you pushed Eddie inside and slammed the door shut, leaving the stranger to wonder whether they had missed the rain seeing the puddle on your doorstep.
The two of you tumbled to the floor, Eddie groaning as you landed on top of him. You were surprised to see his cock was still shooting a thick rope of cum onto his stomach. You quickly scrambled on top of him, sinking back down onto his sensitive length to allow him to finish completely inside of you. He hissed as your wall stroked him to the end, loving the view of your shimmering naked body above him. He held you there as his cock softened, tracing his fingers along every curve and crease along your body as if trying to commit them to memory.
"Are you okay?"
Your heart swelled at the concern dripping from his lips. You smiled at him softly. "Never better."
There was a pause as the two of you relished in each others company, taking the time to admire one another.
"I'm sorry, by the way." Eddie broke the silence, staring deeply into your eyes.
You tilted your head in confusion, taking his hand in yours, worried that he thought he might have hurt you. "What for?"
"For keeping you up last night." He smiled sheepishly. "No one's ever really complained, so I didn't think it was a big deal."
You couldn't help but giggle. "It's okay, Eddie. I'll let you off on one condition."
He laughed in amusement. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"You take me on a date."
"Well, I would be much of a gentlemen if I didn't take a lady on a date after fucking her brains out, would I?"
~~~~~
Taglist:
@mdurdenpitt @wheel-of-hyperfixation @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @arlxt
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie stranger things#mechanic!eddie#mechanic!eddie munson
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Eddie doesn’t like it when Steve is upset. He just wants that on record. He would prefer it if Steve could feel happy and safe and content all the time.
But–
A sad Steve Harrington is a cuddly Steve Harrington, and Eddie is absolutely weak for that shit.
There’s nothing quite like the days when Steve will come home from a shitty shift at work and immediately sit down with Eddie on the couch and curl into his side, never even bothering to change out of his work clothes. Or the days when Steve has to talk to his parents on the phone, and afterwards he’ll come find Eddie and pull him into a hug that may last minutes or hours while Steve presses his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck and loses himself there.
Or nights like tonight, when Steve comes to bed in an old pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt he’s stolen form Eddie’s side of the dresser and lays down more in the middle of the bed than on his own side, his head practically on Eddie’s pillow.
He’s asking without really asking, but Eddie will never, ever deny him.
He’s quick to roll onto his side, facing Steve and prodding him until he rolls over, too, facing away and allowing himself to be scooted back across the mattress. Eddie gets an arm around his waist and pulls him close, until he’s practically molded to Eddie’s front, chest to back, hips to hips, Eddie’s knees tucked into the bend of Steve’s.
It isn’t that Steve isn’t normally a touchy sort of person; he is. He thrives on physical affection, and Eddie loves to be the one to provide him with it. But there’s something different about it when Steve gets like this, like it isn’t just a want – it’s a need.
He buries himself in Eddie’s presence, curling in close like he can hide away inside of him, like Eddie can keep the world at bay – like Eddie can protect him.
And hell if that isn’t a heady feeling. The thought that Steve, so strong and sure of himself, lets himself be soft around Eddie, will let his armor fall away and let himself be cared for; Eddie can’t say he doesn’t cherish the privilege.
Who protects the protector? Eddie does.
And he takes his responsibilities very seriously, thank you.
He presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck, stroking his thumb against his ribs over the soft fabric of the pilfered t-shirt. He can feel Steve’s chest rise and fall with a sigh.
“Bad day?” Eddie asks softly.
Sometimes Steve wants to talk about it. Sometimes he doesn’t. Eddie always gives him the chance, either way.
Steve shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know. Nothing happened, I just feel… bad.”
He sounds defeated, and Eddie won’t have that.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to know.” He presses another soft kiss to the nape of Steve’s neck. “I’ll make it better.”
“Yeah.” Under the blankets, Steve’s hand finds Eddie’s where it’s draped over his waist and threads their fingers together, squeezing gently. “I know you will.”
[Prompt: Spooning]
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Slow and Careful —
You have your first time with Eddie.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the love on my last story! This one is a request by @wdsara48 and I hope yall like it! I got a lil carried away w this one so its a lil longer - Bird
tags/warnings: f!reader | smut | 3.2k words | inexperienced!reader | consent checks | slight humor | f*ngering | pinv | protection used | praises and nicknames
———
“Stop looking at me like that,” You grumbled with your knees pressed into your chest.
“What? I think you look pretty. I think it’s adorable you dressed up for me,” Eddie’s eyes glinted at you as he held his head in his hand, the other tracing small circles into the sheets beneath you.
“What are you talking about?” Your mouth hung open, feigning offense.
“This,” Eddie pulled your bra strap with his middle finger, lightly snapping it against your skin. “Did you buy these cute matching undies just for me?”
“You wish,” Your nose and mouth crinkled as you tried to fight a smile.
“Oh, whatever. You were the one who asked me to give you your first time,” He chuckled, scratching his stubbled cheeks.
“Because I trust you,” You said, slightly more serious. Your appreciation for him was clear in your heavy-lidded eyes.
Eddie moved closer to you, gently cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb against your jawline.
“You do?” he murmured, feeling his heart beat wildly against his chest as he admired your affectionate expression. He sprinkled kisses on your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips.
You leaned into his fluttering touches with a silent laugh. “Of course I do, baby,” Your voice was sweet and breathy.
Even with the jitters of your first time looming over your head, it hardly threatened to ruin the moment. Something was intoxicating about being in his room, the faint smell of his cologne and weed smoke put you in a trance. Plus you knew Eddie would treat you with the utmost care.
He shot you a quick, mischievous look. His arms were placed on either side of your body, now towering over you. “So you’re saying I can do whatever I want?” He quipped, believing the joke was obvious to you.
Your breathing picked up as you watched him hover. It’s not like you didn’t trust him, but this was a big deal to you. It was no longer just an adorable conversation you were having with him on the drive home, you were actually in his bed, moments away from losing your virginity.
“Well, maybe not whatever you want,” A nervous laugh came out of you when you caught a glimpse of his strong gaze.
Seeing you suddenly grow tense, Eddie’s face quickly softened towards you. With a chuckle, he reached down and tapped his index finger to your nose. “Relax, sweetheart. How about this; When I touch you, I’ll keep checking in, yeah? And you can tell me to stop at any time, I promise,”
You closed your eyes and exhaled into a feathery laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” You jokingly groaned.
“Let’s just go slow, yeah?” You had an encouraging smile on your face as you reached up to twirl one of his loose curls between your fingers.
“Slow and careful,” Eddie echoed, his smile growing as he admired the way your skin looked in the dim lighting. He loved the way the sheets pooled around your hips, and the thin fabric of your underwear made the shape of your legs all too obvious to him. His pupils dilated as he drank in the sight of you.
“Good,” You confirmed.
“God, baby, you’re so pretty,” Eddie’s hands moved down your body, tracing your skin with his fingertips and leaving gentle goosebumps in his wake. His gaze never left your face, checking for any signs of discomfort or fear.
“No, you,” You retorted with a bashful smirk.
“Don’t sell yourself short, now. We can both be pretty,” Eddie chuckled. The warm light of the room looked amazing against his skin, you were mesmerized. “You mind if I get rid of these?” he asked, referencing your underwear with a tug.
“Not at all,” You lifted your pelvis, helping Eddie with taking them off.
He made a shooting noise as he pulled the elastic of your panties and snapped it across the room, making it land in his hamper. You both broke for a moment to laugh.
“Oh my god, of course you made that,” You shook your head, still laughing.
“Hey, you gotta admit that was pretty cool,” Eddie winked before licking at his smile. He made a mental note that you were laughing more than usual, which he took as a sign that his efforts to keep you calm were working.
“Okay yeah, fine, it was kinda cool,” You playfully shrugged, not wanting to give him too much satisfaction.
He was so good at making you feel comfortable, he made you forget for a moment that your sex was completely bare in front of him.
“Of course it was,” Eddie grinned down at you. He slowly moved his body closer to yours, the warmth of his skin sending tremors across your body.
“Are you ready, gorgeous?” he asked, carefully placing his hands on your knees. He gently spread them apart, his breath becoming more deliberate as he got closer. “And remember our deal okay?”
You nodded rapidly. “You got it,”
You dreamily laid your head on your shoulder. A breathy moan escaped you as he lingered over your hips. You passed a hand through his hair, admiring his eager face as it was framed in your thighs.
“That’s my girl,” The grin Eddie gave you along with his sugary praise made your heart swell. “You ready for me to make you feel good?” Eddie mumbled before placing a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh.
“Um, yeah. Yes,” You croaked, hiding the disappointment in yourself. You felt like dirty talk came out of Eddie so naturally. It all sounded so good to you, but when it came time for you to reciprocate, it felt like a flurry of awkward mumbles and head nods.
“Yeah? You’re so cute,” Eddie grinned, his nose ghosting over your skin. His hands slid along the backs of your thighs, rubbing up and down in soothing motions. He kept the pace slow, waiting for any sign that you wanted more. “Do you want me to touch you, baby?”
You nodded even more desperately now. “Please?”
“Your wish is my command,” Eddie’s voice was dripping with adoration as one of his hands left your thigh and started rubbing circles over your warmth, his chin resting on your knee.
Your eyes fluttered shut and a trembling breath followed. Before you came into his room that night, all you wanted to do was get it over with just to say you did it. Now with the way he was touching you, only made you want him to explore your body for hours.
“See? You’re doing great, baby,” He cooed as his fingers moved over your wet folds.
Eddie loved that your body was so incredibly responsive. The way you arched your hips towards him was incredibly inviting to him. He picked up the pace slightly, watching you closely to make sure he didn’t overstimulate you.
“Feels good, doesn’t it angel?” The teasing grin on his face widened as his eyes roamed over you hungrily.
“Really good,” Your laugh shifted into a moan as he repeated the motion with even more pressure.
“Are you going to come, pretty girl?” He lightly teased, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every twitch and tremble.
“I don’t know, what is it supposed to feel like?” You asked a bit frantically.
You knew of the concept, but you never made yourself come before. However, you were suspicious of a growing warmth in your lower stomach that built as he picked up his pace.
“It’s okay, angel. You’re doing so well, I promise you’ll know when it’s happening,” He reassured you.
He could feel your legs shaking more and more as you started to get closer to a peak. “You’re gonna feel it building, baby. It’s gonna get real overwhelming, but trust me it feels so damn good.” He wanted to keep you completely focused on that feeling in your stomach. “Just focus on my fingers, okay?”
“Eddie,” You gasped, grabbing him. You tugged lightly, your nails digging into his flexed arm. His tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration as he kept running his fingers over you.
Waves of satisfaction and relief came over him as he watched you climax. His eyes locked on you, with his mouth slightly agape in a smile, mimicking your facial expression as you came down, the way your features trembled and twisted in satisfaction.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled under his breath as he watched you slowly come back down to Earth. “You alright?,”
“Yeah I’m okay,” You panted. Your shaking hand reached to cup his cheek. As much as you enjoyed it, you were amused to see that he was having an even better time.
“That was amazing,” You breathlessly complimented.
"Yeah? Well, you are amazing," Eddie planted a quick kiss on your palm, nuzzling a little into your hand.
He let out a low chuckle and he suddenly looked a little flustered from your compliment. "Did you think I did okay? I wasn't too rough or anything, was I?”
“No, no, baby it was perfect,” You stuttered urgently.
“I’m glad, Sweetheart,” He sighed in relief before pecking a few more kisses around your face. He lifted your chin. “Are you ready for more?”
Your enthusiastic nods returned. “I’m ready,”
Eddie's heart thrummed in his chest at your excitement, and a small laugh bubbled out from him. He could almost feel his pulse throbbing in his pants. "Absolutely, positively sure?" he asked in a tease
“Baby, c’mon. I really wanna do this,” You whined, covering your blushing face.
You knew he was joking but you were really not in the mood. He had no idea of the fire he started in you. Eddie's breath hitched at your desperate whine. He lurched toward your bedside table, pulling it open and rummaging through it before finding what he was looking for. He grabbed a condom and tossed it on the bed beside you, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You want it that bad, huh?"
You scrunch your nose to hide your smile. “Shut up, you’re such a pig,” You joked.
You curiously looked at the black foil sachet he threw. You slowly picked it up with your hands and then examined it closer.
“Did you want me to put it on you?”
"Only if you want to, baby," He loved watching that innocent look you had as you spoke your mind.
“Will you show me how, babe?” You chewed your lip.
You took the corner of the wrapper and tore it off. You studied the clear disc of plastic, your breathing getting heavier. Holding it made it more real. You were sweating in anticipation.
"Of course, sweetheart," his voice was dripping with adoration as he watched you fiddle with the condom, his breath coming a little quicker than normal. It took everything he had not to just rip it out of your hand and put it on himself.
Eddie had no intentions of giving you a strip show, but you were entranced by him taking off his clothes anyway. You were amused by the way his hair whipped around as he pulled his shirt over his head. Then he took his jeans off. You were unable to take your eyes off of him, taking in the view of his length.
“Is this how you do it?” You asked, bringing it toward his twitching cock.
Eddie's breath caught in his throat as you reached for him, and he was suddenly hyperaware of the way the light hit the shape of his body.
You then placed the condom on him, slowly rolling it over his length. Your eyes were wide, not allowing you to miss one moment.
“Is that good?” You asked again, looking for his reaction.
"Yeah, perfect," Eddie exhaled, biting down on his bottom lip as he watched you.
He reached down and took your chin into his hand, leaning down to kiss you gently on the lips, moaning softly as his tongue slipped past your lips and twirled with yours. He laid you back once more, positioning himself in between your legs. You held onto his forearms as he leaned in closer, his weight pinning you a bit. You let him take over, following his touches as nonverbal instructions.
Eddie was in a haze of pure desire as he felt the heat of your body against him. "You ready, baby?" he managed to ask.
You gripped his shoulders, took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah, totally ready,” You exhaled loudly, trying to relax your body and surrender your focus to him.
Eddie was determined to make this experience everything you could have ever wanted. He took a deep breath of his own as he gently rolled his hips against yours. He watched your face intently to make sure you were okay. "Is it okay? Is it good, baby?"
As he pushed into you for the first time, you let out a sharp hiss. It was a pinch of pain that only lasted for a few seconds before you calmed back down.
“I’m okay, it wasn’t that bad,” Your voice shook but it was accompanied by a content smile.
Eddie noticed the way you grimaced slightly as you tried to get used to new sensations from inside. His heart twisted at the sight and he instantly slowed his movement, his hands moving to gently cup your face. "I promised I'd be gentle with you, right? I don't want to hurt-"
But before he could finish the sentence, he realized his worry was misplaced. He felt you relax under him, releasing airy noises in pleasure. You grabbed his face, bringing his forehead to yours.
“I’m okay, I promise, just don’t stop,” You pleaded, your heavy breaths tickling his lips as you spoke.
He nodded then brought his lips to yours, softly kissing you until he found a better angle to rock his hips into you. He rolled his hips against you at a steady and measured pace. Your high-pitched, yet quiet moans filled his room, competing with the low music playing from his stereo. Your hands journeyed to his chest, feeling the rhythm of his strokes as his body pressed into your palms.
A chorus of deep groans escaped from him as Eddie sped up, each moan was more desperate than the last as he lost himself in a haze of pure passion. He loved the view of your flushed cheeks and sweat-soaked body, Eddie’s hand trailed down your thigh and behind your knee. He halted for a moment to say
“I’m gonna try something, tell me if it hurts,” He pushed your leg up a bit higher, opening your hips up even more to him. He returned to his previous pacing, growling as he felt the new sensations.
You could only moan in response to just how good that angle felt.
"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" He grinned down at you hungrily at the sight of you falling apart beneath him.
His body pressed closer in between your thighs as he pushed himself deeper. His breathing was coming in shorter gasps as the sensation pushed him closer and closer to the edge.
“I think I’m gonna come again,” You admitted quietly, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his arms.
You were surprised you could get any words out of you. It was as if with every thrust, Eddie was forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head in pleasure.
He couldn't restrain the growl that escaped from his lips as your nails dug into his skin. The sharp feeling of the sting combined with the sweet sound of your words were pushing him further to the edge, and he forced himself to pause for a moment to collect himself. "Do it. Come with me, sweetheart," he managed to get out between harsh pants.
You gasped and scrunched up your face as the next few strokes took you to your peak. A squeaky yelp escaped your mouth as you came. Your legs repeatedly smacked at his hip bones as you shuddered from your orgasm.
"I got you, baby. I got you, angel." Eddie gently whispered his sweet words of reassurance as he felt his own composure slipping. Seeing you come for the second time of the night was too much for him. He immediately had to bury his head in the crook of your neck, moaning desperately as the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelmed him. The sweet sound of your shaky breaths and the feeling of your muscles squeezing him was enough to send him toppling over the edge with you. He rocked his hips with a few more slow movements as he came, moaning a shaky breathless groan against your neck.
Once you came back down, you urgently ran your hands down Eddie’s face, picking it up to study his exhausted but content expression. “Did you, um-“ You began to ask, but grew embarrassed by just the idea of the question.
After a few long moments to catch his breath, Eddie finally picked his head up to look at you. It took him a moment to even register your question. He gently wrapped his arms around your body to pull you into his chest.
He looked blissfully content as he laid on you, his hot breath coming out in ragged puffs. His face split into a wide smile when he heard the question you cut yourself off from asking, but his breath picked up and his cheeks flushed a little red as he realized what you were implying. "I did," he nodded, still smiling, "Do you want to see how much?"
“I don’t know, is it gonna be gross?” You covered your mouth, stifling your laugh that threatened to be way too loud for your liking. You looked down at where your bodies connected, curiously.
Eddie let out a deep laugh. He slowly pulled himself out of you, his muscles relaxing as he took some of his weight off. He reached down between you and gently pulled off the spent condom, his eyebrows raising as he examined it with a small smile on his face.
“Is that usually how much comes out?” You asked with a slight amused expression as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Seeing the evidence further made you satisfied that you finally got to experience this with him.
Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red as you questioned him on it and he quickly looked away as he tied the condom off. "Jesus Christ, we don't have to talk about this," he mumbled, his voice cracking as he tried to keep himself from laughing. "The answer is yes, it's how much comes out," he admitted reluctantly.
“You’re the one who offered, you weirdo!” You gave him a swift, light kick to his butt as he got off the bed, before laughing and rolling over to your stomach.
Eddie dramatically groaned as you hit him. His act didn't last for more than a few seconds before he melted back to his affectionate state. He grabbed a t-shirt from the corner of the room to wipe himself off before turning back to you and gently throwing it at your head.
“Eddie!” You screamed.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
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)
836 notes
·
View notes
Text
Juicy
Eddie Munson x big boob fem!reader
summary: the heat causes you to let the girls hang free and it causes Eddie to be a flustered mess
warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader has breasts and wears feminine clothing. skin color/ethnicity is not mentioned! Eddie being a flustered cutie. idiots in love :) mentions of high school jocks being gross. 18+ MINORS DNI. smut: heavy making out, grinding, titty sucking, premature ejaculation. mentions of titty fucking and cumming on tits. shitty writing and not proofread.
a/n: hello my honey buns!! i wanted to get something out while i work on some of my current wips. i got inspired to write this bc i have a tig bitties and every time i wear a bra i feel like i'm dying and i'm too insecure to not wear one lmao. also, i just wanted to say that all different shapes and sizes of bitties are beautiful!!! also please be kind! smut is not my strong suit.
The late August heat made living in Hawkins unbearable. That might be an over exaggeration since you've never traveled anywhere outside of your town, but it still felt like the underside of satan's ballsack.
You regret agreeing to hangout with Eddie the minute you saw the afternoon weather forecast and regret it even more when you got into the metalhead's van. With no working a/c in the vehicle, there was no choice but to have the window's down to get some sort of circulation.
It wouldn't be so bad if there was a breeze but the air was dry, burning your lungs with every single intake of oxygen. You could feel the sweat rolling down your spine, making the thin cotton tank top you had on stick to your skin.
The cotton shorts you had on didn't quell any heat that you were feeling, only making your thighs stick together uncomfortably. Eddie being the angel he was, had already stopped at the gas station, picking up whatever snack he thought you might want, including a cherry icee that was already melted.
The sweat the beaded at your hairline, falling down your face like raindrops, matched the sweat on your cardboard cup. Syrupy sweetness coated your tongue as you drank it, coolness going down your throat to extinguish the flames within your body.
You needed to get out his car as soon as possible and into some air conditioning. Eddie on the other hand looked as cool as a cucumber. His cut band tshirt blowing through the warm air, black jeans tight on his lower body, and his brown curls in a low bun.
You almost wanted to hate him for being so calm, never showing any discomfort when it got hot like this. God, you hated the way he looked so relaxed, puffing on his cigarette and driving with one wrist on the steering wheel. The sun shining off of his ringed fingers, the band squeezing at his tiny waist, the black ink on his alabaster skin dancing with every move he took- he was so beautiful and it was making your temperature rise even higher.
When he pulled up to his trailer, you were up and out of the van before he could even pull the keys out of ignition. To your dismay, he was taking his sweet time getting out of the car, making you wait in the blaze of the sun. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the cheeky asshole was doing it on purpose. As he rounds the car, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, a playful smirk paints his lips.
He's definitely doing it on purpose. Asshole.
"Where's the fire, Cherry?" he jests playfully at you, making you scowl even more.
"It's going to be in your hair if you don't hurry the hell up." You yell back at him. A small laugh leaves his pretty lips, shaking his head as he pulls out his key to unlock the door.
"I'll open the door faster if you say please." You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Playing up the part even more, Eddie takes his time putting the key into the door.
"Oh please Eddie, would you be so kind and unlock the door?" You smile sarcastically up at him. He mimics you, straight white teeth flashing brightly in your eyes.
"Now was that so hard?" Scoffing at him, you push right past his body and enter the trailer.
The small a/c unit the sits in the window works overtime, buzzing and rattling loudly, to cool down the small trailer. It feels like heaven when you walk in, the immediate temperature drop makes goosebumps rise on your skin.
Plopping down on the well loved couch, you sprawl your limbs out trying to cool every inch of your skin. Placing the bag of treats on the table, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen to retrieve a beer from the fridge.
"Is Wayne off today?" The absence of the older man only coming to your attention.
"Yeah, he went to Darla's house." Eddie mutters his response as he works the cap of the beer bottle off.
Darla was Wayne's new girlfriend he had been seeing the past couple months. You had fallen victim to many of Eddie's rants about his uncle coming home late and never calling letting his nephew know he was safe.
Humming a response, you turn your attention to the television that's currently playing reruns of The Golden Girls.
Now that you've been in the cool air for not even five minutes, the creeping heat comes back into your body. The culprit being your chest, heat radiating in the cups of your bra. It was uncomfortable already with the weight on your back and shoulders, not to mention the sweat that collected in the fabric.
Jumping up abruptly from your slouched position, you work your hands around your back preparing to take off the article of clothing. . Before you it off, you remember that you're not in your own home and that it might make Eddie uncomfortable.
As he walks in from the kitchen, sipping on his chilled beer, he catches your stare. Raising a brow and removing the bottle from his mouth, he turns to you.
"You okay over there?" He questions you, eyeing your posture and how you look like you've been caught in the act of something you shouldn't be doing.
"I need to take my bra off but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
Oh boy is he caught of guard, choking on his spit loudly. His cheeks are tinted a deep red, eyes wide and bulging from his face. Of course he didn't care, you guys were friends and he always wanted you comfortable. The only problem was that you would be braless, sitting next to him.
It's not like you haven't before, any time you wore big baggy shirts he knew you didn't have a bra on, but the extra material of your shirt blocked the visuals of your loose breasts.
When you cock an eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, brown curls bouncing with the movement.
"Y-yeah sure. Ya know what we Munson's say, this land is your land, or whatever." He chuckles nervously eyeing you from where he stands across from you.
Letting out a roaring laugh, you reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, undoing the hook.
"I'm pretty sure Woody Guthrie said that, Eds." Forcing out a small laugh, he watches as you pull the straps down your arms and then pulling the material out from under your white tank top.
Yeah he's going to die right here in the middle of his living room. When you finally pull it from your sticky skin and discard it somewhere on the floor, your nipples pebble up from the cold air. You lean your head back and release a sigh of satisfaction.
You don't see how Eddie's drinking you in right now, how he's staring at the way your nipples are visible through the wet cotton of your shirt, or how he can see the fullness of your chest.
It was no secret that you had a bigger bust than most of the girls in town, earning the nickname of Cherry from all the jocks at school, which you took pride in and eventually took ownership of.
Unlike the jocks, Eddie never made any comments about your bust. Not that he didn't think of them when he was beating off in his room every night, but he never commented on them to you which you appreciated. To him you were just you, double d's or not.
While you were in pure bliss, Eddie was living a nightmare come true. The girl he's had a crush on since middle school is braless in his home, right in front of him. He didn't know how he was going to sit next to you now with the way blood was rushing to his cock, the stiff material of his jeans didn't help his discomfort.
"So, what are we watching today?" Cracking your eyes open to look at your best friend, you could still see him standing in the same spot, staring right at your chest.
Oh. OH. He was staring at your chest. You could have so much fun with this, give him a little taste of his own medicine for his little stunt earlier, making you wait longer in the heat.
"Eds?" Your tone was sinfully sweet. Placing your arms on either side of you, you used your forearms to push your boobs together as best as you can.
"Huh? O-oh yeah. Um, we ugh, we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street." He was tripping on his tongue every other word.
Quickly moving from his spot, he knelt down in front of the television to pop in the horror movie. The boy who was so unbothered by record breaking heat, was now a sweaty, heavy breathing mess because of you.
After starting the movie, he slowly retreats to the couch but as far away from you as humanly possible. Maybe it wasn't that he was hot and bothered by you, maybe he was just uncomfortable with your state of dress.
For the first twenty minutes of the film that's all you could think, trying to figure out what you could do to make the situation better. Without thinking, you take a lollipop out of the bag of goodies he bought, popping it right into your mouth.
You took your time, swirling your tongue around the red candy, hallowing your cheeks every so often. You weren't really paying attention to what you were doing, staring straight ahead at the glowing screen. Eddie was paying attention though, growing unimaginably harder than before.
The movement of Eddie taking the pillow from behind his back and placing it right on his crotch, brings your attention the boy next to you. He wasn't as smooth as he thought, the placement of the pillow gave it away right away. His sweat soaked bangs, bouncing leg, and red cheeks definitely gave it away.
Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you place it down on the discarded wrapper laying on the table. Turning to him, your knees criss cross, you say his name softly.
His head turns with speed when you call him, chocolate brown eyes replaced with the darkness of his pupils.
"Are you okay? You don't seem, well you seem bothered. If it's me not wearing a bra, Eddie I can put it back on." You sputter out, worry rising in your stomach at the thought of making him feel awkward with your braless tits.
Releasing a loud sigh, he runs a hand down his face. "Cherry, I'm not bothered by you not wearing a bra. Well, okay, I am but I'm not uncomfortable."
He's staring right at you, almost like he's waiting for you to catch on but you don't. Eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand what he had just said to you. Before you can ask, he reiterates himself.
"Baby, I'm not bothered because you don't have a bra on. I'm very much the opposite and because I'm a gentleman, I'm trying to make myself calm down the best I can. It's just hard to do that when you're deep throating a sucker right next to me." The last part comes out as a joke, dimpled smile to prove it.
So you were right, he was hot and bothered by you. Just like he made you wait for him, you made him wait even longer to rid himself of his discomfort happening in his pants.
"Well Eds, you know if you wanted to see them all you had to say was please." You tease and he groans loudly, throwing his head back.
"Please, Cherry." He begs and you give in, lying back on the old couch. Beckoning him over to you, you spread your legs to give him room. Like a panther, he pounces on you, smacking his lips to yours.
Its heavy and animalistic the way your tongues attack each other. The lingering taste of beer mixes with the cherry from your candy. When you push your hips up to get some friction on your aching heat, he whimpers in your mouth.
He takes your motions as permission to grind into you, the pressure making both of you moan in unison. Pulling away from your mouth so you two can breathe, he moves to his next target.
The warmth of lips meet the chilled skin of your neck, he kisses all around the precious skin to find that sweet spot. When a wanton moan falls from your red stained lips, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. Sucking and kissing the spot under your ear, you're sure there will be a blotch of purple there.
You hiss out when he runs his teeth along the spot, jerking your hips up in excitement. Moving his face so that he's looking at you, you can see the spit that coat his red swollen lips, the lust the pool in his eyes. He's so pretty like this, so fucking pretty and he's all yours in this moment.
"Can I see your pretty tits, Cherry?" He asks so sweetly, like he didn't just sinfully makeout with you. Nodding in approval, he shakes his head at you.
"I need words, princess." He waits for you, who is currently looking up at him like he's hung the stars and moon. You look so fucked out and so disheveled. He's always known he was going to marry you but when he looks at you he has no doubt that he's going to marry you.
"Please, Eds."
That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling the front of your shirt down, revealing your chest to him. He stays there for a minute, looking unbashful at your tits, like they were the eight wonder of the world.
His unwavering gaze starts to make you insecure, worrying that maybe they weren't as nice as he thought they would be. They were heavy and slightly sagged due to the weight, you had stretch marks that decorated the skin like a zebra.
Pulling your arms up to cover yourself, he grips your wrists and pulls them down. Moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes are much softer.
"Don't hide, please don't hide. Not when I've waited so long to see these." A tingling sensation fills your face, making you smile giddily up at him. When you nod at him, he goes in face first into your chest.
"Fuck, I've dreamt of this for so long." You want to respond but you can't when his mouth is placing pecks to the delicate skin of your breast.
Resuming his motions from before, his hips roll right into yours like a wave crashing on the shore. He's everywhere, filling all your senses. Eddie.Eddie.Eddie. That's all that's in your mind, especially when he places your pebbled nipple in his mouth.
"Fuck, Eddie." You hiss out, reaching your hand to the nape of his neck, placing a gentle pressure to keep him there. His switches between swirling his tongue around the numb and sucking on it.
His other hand snakes up to your abandoned breast, groping the fat of it before his fingers pinch the nipple. It's sinful the way it feels, his hard cock hitting right where you need him, the warm of his mouth, and the moans that you release.
Eddie groans, causing your skin to vibrate. Removing himself from your abused breast, he moves to the other one, finally giving it the same attention as the other.
"Fuck, you're so hot." He groans out, eyes closed in ecstasy, high off the scent and taste of you. His movements start getting faster causing him to moan even louder.
Moving away from your chest, he looks down at you, the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. He looks at the mark he made on your neck, and how your skin shines with his saliva and your sweat. Your pupils are blown wide, lips puffy and shiny. Then he moves his eyes back to your tits, imagining what it would feel like to run his dick on your sternum, how pretty they would look coated in his pearly white cum, and how hot it would be to titty fuck you.
Every possible scenario plays out in his head when he looks at you and it's too much. With one finally grunt, pulled deep from his stomach, he hangs stops all his motions, collapsing onto of you.
Dazed and slightly confused, you let him catch his breathe. When he brings his face out from the crook of your neck, he has a boyish smile pulled on his cheeks.
"Ed, did you just-"
"Cum in my pants like a teenager? Absofuckinglutely, but if give me about five minutes I'll give you everything you want." You reach your hand up to his face, pushing some of the loose hair that fell from his ponytail, behind his hair.
"If you say please, pretty boy."
He didn't need five minutes, instantly getting hard from the sultry tone of your voice.
_
_
_
_
_
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x fem!reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi love!! I would love an Eddie request of him with inexperienced reader but it's not smut it's like the convo leading up to it like May be they start making out and it's getting steamy and she tells him she's a virgin and she's terrified bc what if she's bad at sex and then it's not good for him? What if he sees her naked and thinks she's not pretty?? And it's just Eddie comforting her and reassuring her
Oh, I would most definitely need Eddie to reassure me of these things, too. I hope you like what I've come up with 💕
Words: 1.3k
The old springs in Eddie’s mattress dig into your back, an occasional squeak emanating from them whenever your boyfriend shifts his weight on top of you. His tongue dances with yours, breath colliding and teeth grazing. Eddie encompasses all your senses, surrounding you wholly and leaving no room to think about anything else but him–if your brain can even manage to think at all with strong, calloused hands running over your body.
His warm fingers trail up the outside of your leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The moment Eddie’s hand slips up your shorts on the front of your thigh though, your body goes from pure ecstasy to adrenaline-pumping nerves in an instant.
An involuntary jump of your body against his alerts Eddie that something’s wrong and he immediately pulls away to gaze down at you in concern.
“Are you okay?”
Though it’s clearly not the truth, you nod your head. Slowly, you scoot yourself out from beneath his body and sit up against the cheap mahogany headboard that’s caused a multitude of scratches against the dully painted trailer wall.
“C-Can we talk for a second though?”
There’s worry in Eddie’s eyes. He’s terrified that he’s done something wrong or has hurt you in some way. Taking care to give you some space, your boyfriend situates himself to sit next to you on his bed, back also resting against the chipped and scuffed headboard.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “What’s going on?”
Tentatively, Eddie offers you his hand, resting it between the two of you. He’s leaving the decision up to you if you want to touch him right now or not. There’s no hesitation though, you eagerly lace your fingers with his.
You give him a nervous smile, a million thoughts running through your head at once. It’ll be a miracle if you can speak coherently with the rate at which your mind is moving. Deciding to just bite the bullet and get it all out there, you take a deep breath.
“Um, I’m—I’m a virgin, Eddie.”
Whatever reaction you were planning on Eddie to have, he doesn’t give it to you. He seems completely unfazed by your admission. All you get is a nod of his head and a gentle squeeze of your hand.
“Okay,” he says casually, as if your entire body isn’t running on nervous energy at the moment. “We can go as slow as you want, yeah?”
You know your body should feel relief, but the worry in your head tells you that you’ve only gotten through part of what you need to tell him. Might as well push through to the end.
“I’m…scared,” you admit. Shame floods your body, chilling your veins.
“Of me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and the alarm in them is clear.
“No!” You quickly assure him. “No, no, never of you.”
He heaves a sigh of relief, and you cup his hand in both of yours. Out of all the things that make you anxious about having sex with Eddie, Eddie is not one of them. But that means you have to tell him that you’re the problem. If your anxiety has one mortal nemesis in the world it is vulnerability.
“I’m scared that I’ll be bad at it,” you admit. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if you don’t like it? What if I mess up?” What if you don’t like how I look beneath my clothes?
“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. The crease in his forehead shows his displeasure with the pressure you’re putting on yourself. “First of all, I don’t think you can really mess up sex, sweetheart. As long as you’re here and your clothes are off, I’d say we’re good to go.” He chuckles, but when you don’t join in, he sighs. “Are you honestly worried that I won’t like it?”
Unable to look him in the eye, you nod. His forehead furrows further as Eddie frowns. Usually, you’d rub your thumb over those wrinkles to smooth them out and calm him down. But usually, you’re not the cause of them.
Gentle fingers grip your chin and tilt your face so you can look at him.
“Princess, it’s you. I love doing everything with you, you really think I won’t like having sex with you?”
When he puts it like that, you feel silly. Heat blooms in your face as embarrassment is scooped on top of the nerves. There are legitimate concerns, though. You’re sure of it. There has to be.
“W-What if you don’t like what my body looks like?” You ask it so quietly in the hope that he misses it.
It’s obvious that he doesn’t by the way his eyes nearly pop out of his head. He reminds you of one of those stress dolls that you squeeze and the small plastic eyes bulge out.
“Not like your body?” Eddie sounds almost incredulous. He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing into yours as he thinks of a reply. It feels like the understatement of the century to say he was unprepared for you to be worried about this; about something that he whole-heartedly knew to be untrue. A smile quirks Eddie’s mouth as his mind goes back to a day before you’d started dating. He licks over his lips before continuing. “Sweetheart, remember the pool party Jeff threw for his birthday last summer? You wore that low-cut, blue one-piece that showed off most of your back?”
Do you remember? You had agonized over what you should wear to that party and what Eddie would think when he saw you.
“Yeah,” you tell him, voice quivering.
“Babe,” he says with a shake of his head. “I still get off thinking about that. About how you looked. There was a reason I had to stay in the pool past the point of me freezing half to death in the water.”
Shock colors your face, and despite the gravity of the conversation, it makes Eddie smile wider.
“You…really?”
“Yes,” Eddie says with a breathless chuckle. “God, you’re so fucking hot. You’re gorgeous. It bothers me that you don’t see that.”
If there’s one thing you can say about your boyfriend, it’s that he’s very candid about his view on things–just ask anyone who’s had the pleasure of hearing him make a grand speech from atop a lunch table. Which is most of the high school-aged population in Hawkins.
Half of your brain is trying to convince you that now is the time he chooses to lie, that he’s just saying this to make you feel better or to shut you up. Meanwhile, the other half is telling the anxiety to put a sock in it and listen to Eddie.
“What’re you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly. A reminder of how well he knows you.
“Too much,” you say with a soft laugh.
Eddie lets out a long breath and gently pulls you into his lap. He absentmindedly rests his hands on your thighs and his thumbs rub calming circles on your skin.
“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asks. Needing to show you physically how much he wants to help you, he snakes his arms around your body to hold you snugly against him. Your heart all but melts as he looks up at you with those large, puppy dog eyes.
With a small smile, you lean down and rest your forehead against your boyfriend’s. Sometimes he’s too cute for his own good.
“You already have,” you say softly.
“What? How?” Eddie’s frowning again, but this time it's in confusion.
“Just by being you,” you tell him with a shrug.
“Well, I am pretty great,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. Your heart feels lighter once the stress lines fade from his beautiful face.
You chuckle at his ego and sit back up straight.
“There is one more thing you could do for me, though.”
“What’s that, beautiful?”
There’s a hungry gleam in your eyes as you let your gaze trail up and down his lithe body.
“Take off your shirt.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#request
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝
Summary: . . . you're drunk off your ass and your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, has to chase you down. that's it.
𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
“Eddddiiiiee,” you whined, trying to break out of the iron hold around your waist but no matter how much you pulled on your boyfriend’s arms, he wouldn’t release you.
“Baaaaaby!” He mocked, arms tightening around you as he pulled your back to his chest, eyes searching through the crowd to see if Harrington had gathered the rest of your rag tag group of friends.
The lot of you had been invited to a rager thrown by one of Argyle’s friends. You’d also neglected to mention to Eddie that you’d magically forgotten to eat more than a party sized bag of chips the entire day, so with three shots and a couple of strong mixed drinks in you, you were drunk. Very, sloppily, adorably drunk.
Eddie followed you around when you became impatient with him, huffing and puffing anytime you saw him because you knew he’d prevent you from getting more drunk—sure enough, he’d swoop in and take away any bottle, cup or drink you’d get your hands on.
He had made one crucial mistake though, having decided you were done for the night and with Robin throwing up a bright blue liquid—it was time to go. Eddie had had a twelve second conversation with Steve in which he would go and find Jonathan and Nancy, taking Robin with him.
When Eddie turned back to you, you were hastily shoving something in your mouth, something small enough to be concealed between your fingers.
“No, no, no!” He rushed over, taking your face in a hand and gently squeezing your cheeks to try to get you to open your mouth but it was too late, whatever pill it was, you had already swallowed, “Baby, what did you just put in your mouth?”
You giggled, pleased to be causing him a little trouble and made kissy faces at him instead of answering.
He sighed, wrapping his arms around you while he glared at everyone else.
Speed. Where the fuck did you even get it???
And that’s how you found yourself imprisoned in his arms, patience once more dwindling due to the cotton candy haze of your mind and the energy filling your body.
Eddie could feel your jitters and chanced a glance down at your shoes to confirm they hadn’t magically transformed into a pair of sneakers you could run off in. He’d made it a rule you couldn’t wear a pair if you’d be drinking (yeah, this wasn’t the first time you’d try to flee from him, drunk off your ass, and no, you didn’t do it all the time), and he was relieved the pair of short heels were still in place.
“Please, can you let me go?” You craned your neck back to pout up at him, eyes big as you peered at him from under your lashes.
You were too fucking cute for your own good.
The answer to your question was still no, he’d never let you go but you wouldn’t like that answer right now, so instead he said, “As soon as we’re home, sweet thing.”
That was not the answer you wanted to hear, either, and you scowled, slouching back into him as you glared at nothing.
Eddie was pleased when Steve, Nancy and Jonathan (carrying a passed out Robin over his shoulder) appeared in the crowd, making their way towards the pair of you.
When they got close, Nancy tripped and Eddie dove forward to catch her before she could meet the ground.
“Whoa, Wheeler!” He laughed as he helped her rise and steady, “Forgot how uncoordinated you are with some liquor in you.”
“The sad thing is I’m not even that drunk,” She admitted, grateful she hadn’t been subjected to the stickiness of the floor.
“Thanks Eddie,” Jonathan shifted Robin a little over his shoulder, trying not to touch her too much since she was prone to having physical reactions and he didn’t want to be punched in the face, “Can we leave now?”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Eddie turned back to you, ready to throw you over his shoulder if he needed to and his mouth dropped open, eyes widening when the spot you’d occupied, literally not even 10 inches away, was empty.
Well, not completely.
The group looked down at the floor to see your heels left behind.
Eddie’s head darted towards the front door just in time to see you escape out of it.
“Oh, shit, not again!”
Eddie swooped up your heels and ran after you, bashing into bodies on the way before he finally made it out of the doorway to see you sprinting across the lawn, your laughter ringing in the night air and he quickly gave chase.
“BABY! BABY, STOP!”
You didn’t stop, having the time of your life as the need to flee from him became more urgent. It wasn’t anything personal, it was just nice to feel like the main character having a little silly, goofy moment and you wouldn’t feel silly and goofy when your boyfriend would be having you drink a ton of water to flush the fun from your system!
“No, I’m fast! Gotta go!” You called over your shoulder, still laughing as you met the asphalt of the street, lungs and legs doing a surprisingly good job at keeping you going and ahead of him.
Eddie kept going too, though he felt the burn of it, chest already heaving but he feared where your drunk ass could possibly end up if he gave up and stopped.
“BABY, I AM BEGGING YOU, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, STOP RUNNING!”
He chased you down several streets, through lawns— apparently you were suddenly good at parkour, jumping over children’s toys and playsets he crashed into—and just when he was finally beginning to think you’d never stop, you started to slow.
Not because you wanted to stop the game or anything, you’d just spent your time running away from your boyfriend thinking about how cute he was. And so sweet and good to you. You longed for him. He always took care of you—drunk or not—gave you tons of smooches, held you whenever you were near, went in search of you when you weren’t, peppered your face in kisses like Pepe Le Pew did to that cat he was always chasing around in the Looney Tunes cartoons and professing his love for you in a shitty French accent, and he always cuddled with you, giving you head scratchies while the two of you lay in bed.
WAIT.
You’d get cuddles, kisses and head scratchies tonight!!!!!
You’d slowed in your thought process, and suddenly you’d gone from eager to get away from Eddie for no real reason, to desperate to be in his arms so you turned around and ran towards him.
Eddie hadn’t been expecting that, the two of you collided, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from toppling over.
See??? You knew he’d hold you.
“Gandalf the freaking Grey, baby, you are trouble and too damn fast,” he heaved out, arms tightening as he smashed you to his chest for a tight hug, the hand not clutching your heel straps cradling the back of your head. Eddie was relieved to have you safe in his arms again.
“I’m fast as fuck, I’m a track star,” you chirped, nuzzling happily into the crook of his neck and making it hard for him to be even a little upset with you.
“No you’re not and no more running,” You made a sound of surprise as he quite literally swept you off your feet and carried you back to the house party you fled from, bridal style.
You didn’t fight him, keen on pressing kisses to his neck, pretty face and just about anywhere your lips could reach.
Halfway there, you ran into Steve and Jonathan practically limping. Both were heaving and covered in sweat, the front of their shirts stained dark with it.
“Oh, thank god! No more running. My side hurts, I think I popped something.” Steve said between gaps of panting.
Jonathan couldn’t even speak, the poor guy looked like he was ready to collapse.
“Where are the girls?”
“On. Front. Lawn.” Jonathan finally wheezed out, they’d left Robin snoozing in Nancy’s lap on the lawn while they ran to help (but not really) Eddie catch you.
When you were finally home, squeaky clean after a shared shower with Eddie—you still seemed to have enough energy for one due to your high, though the alcohol was making you a little sleepy—and you were in bed, curled into him with your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as his fingers massaged your scalp and nearly put you in a coma, he mumbled, “You little shit.”
You giggled, eyes still shut as his chest shook beneath you with his own chuckles.
“You still love me?”
“Always,” Then, after a brief and comfortable silence, “Baby, you should’ve been on the track team.”
“Mmm, I don’t really like running.”
And again, “You little shit!”
#eddie munson x reader#boyfriend!eddie munson#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words
He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.
He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.
Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.
“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.
“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”
“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”
“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”
“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”
“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”
“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”
“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”
“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”
“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”
Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.
Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.
He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.
Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.
Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.
A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.
Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.
“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.
He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.
And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.
Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.
He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.
You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-
Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.
The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.
Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.
An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.
Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.
He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…
Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.
Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.
He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.
His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.
Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:
The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.
Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.
Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?
Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.
He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.
Awesome.
He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.
It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.
By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.
He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.
“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.
“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”
“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”
“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”
“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”
He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”
“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”
“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”
The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.
“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.
“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”
It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.
“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.
“You guys okay?”
Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.
He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.
“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.
Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.
Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.
“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”
Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”
“Let's get pancakes.”
“Okay.”
They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”
“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”
Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.
“What?” Steve asks.
“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”
“But-”
“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”
Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.
Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”
“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”
“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”
Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.
“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”
Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.
“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”
Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.
Eddie wants to mount him.
Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.
Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”
Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”
“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.
“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”
Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”
“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”
He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”
Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.
“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”
“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”
Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.
“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”
He's right. God dammit.
“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”
Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”
By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.
#dustin: this steve hes my babysitter and he DROVE ME HERE#steddie#meet cute?#anonymous grinding#ficlet#my writing
741 notes
·
View notes
Text
DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2
"I have to open it."
"Nope."
"Gareth. I need to open it."
"The vault is sacred," Archie says.
At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."
Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"
"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.
Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.
"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.
"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.
Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."
Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.
It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.
He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.
Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.
Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.
(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)
From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.
Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.
"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.
"Is that how we ask?"
"I could always yank the key off you."
Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.
Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.
Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.
And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.
But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.
Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.
Or maybe Steve was just that hot.
He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.
His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:
I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.
Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.
"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.
"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."
"What did he say?" Archie asks.
Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.
Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.
"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.
"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.
Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.
"What do I say?" he asks.
Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."
"I don't know how!"
"You ground against a guitar-"
"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"
Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"
"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.
Jeff barks out a laugh.
"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."
"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.
Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?
"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.
"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"
"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.
Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.
"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.
"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.
"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."
"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"
"He might be ace."
"Archie, shut the fuck up."
He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.
Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.
He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.
This is. So bad.
And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.
Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.
I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.
"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.
"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.
"He's single!" Gareth cheers.
"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.
"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.
They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.
But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.
He writes back, once he's calmed down:
Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.
#ria writes#dilf and concert#d&c au#steddie#steddie ficlet#st#st ficlet#stranger things#stranger things ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#corroded coffin#rockstar eddie munson#dilf steve harrington
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Watch don't touch - Eddie (bf) x reader x Steve
Behold, the Eddie munson fic that will break the internet... Summary: Eddie loves to show people what they want but can't have. Steve just happens to want you, Eddie's precious girlfriend. Warnings: Semi-public sex, voyeurism, hand job, fingering. 1.7k wc
"Have you guys had sex yet?" The question comes from Steve, pointedly looking at you and Eddie cuddling on the floor, your backs leant on the outside couch in Steve's big backyard, the cool wind causing ripples in the perfectly blue pool. Robin snorts from where she sits on the couch above you, but you're all too drunk to notice that the question might be too personally invasive. "Well... mhm-" You start, not knowing how to give him a proper answer. "Technically," Eddie cuts in "No. But many orgasms have been involved in this relationship." Nancy straightens up from where she's sat facing you guys "What so you're just constantly giving each other head?"
You can almost feel Eddie grin widely, the hand resting on your hip giving it a soft squeeze. "I mean that, amongst other things. But you can't blame me, you'd be in the same position if you got a taste of this pussy." The way Eddie delivers the line almost takes away the sexual nature of his words, but you gasp in shock nonetheless, separating from him slightly to slap him on the arm. Eddie laughs at the attempt to silently scold him, instead leaning down to press his lips to yours in a kiss you immediately reciprocate. You're both too busy exchanging saliva to notice the way both Robin and Steve perk up at Eddie's words, now tempted by you.
They unashamedly stare while you kiss, ignoring the scoff Nancy gives them, with the quiet mutter of "pervs", though it seems she doesn't look away either. The first words to come out of Eddie's mouth when you break the kiss are "You should see how loud she gets when you hit the right spot. I'd let you have a taste, but no one gets to touch my girl." It's the way that Eddie holds eye contact with you even though his words are aimed at Steve that has your juices pooling in your panties and your thighs unconsciously clench, exposed by your short denim skirt just enough to attract the eyes of the onlookers. "Eddie." Your whisper comes out as more of a whine, and you feel your cheeks flush. You turn towards him, both hands coming up to clutch his arm as you dig your face into his shoulder.
One of his hands slithers down to rest in between your thighs, dangerously high to your pussy, already radiating heat from how horny you are. "She gets shy now but later... a whole different person, aren't you sweetheart?" He pecks your lips quickly and you whine louder than you should when he pulls away. "No one gets to touch your girl but it seems you're pretty intent on showing her off." Eddie hums in agreement at Steve's comment, leaning down to pepper kisses on your neck. "Love showing people what they want but can't have." His words come out muffled against your skin and tickle your neck slightly so you squirm away from him, but both of his strong arms wrap around your waist before you can get far and pull you back against his front.
"What do you want Steve?" The loud sigh that comes from him has you both peering up at him curiously, only to find him staring directly at you. "What I can't have." He brings up his can of beer to take a big gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. You feel the blood rush to your face at his shameless reply, glancing up at Eddie when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "You like that answer sweetheart? King Steve wants you so bad." Impossibly, you feel your face flush even more, shifting to try and hide your face away in your boyfriend's chest.
There's a long pause that follows, in which Eddie and Steve exchange a very specific look. The loud doorbell of Steve's rich parents' house rings, breaking everyone out of their weird trance and Nancy scrambles up to get it, yelling out "Robin that's our ride!" Robin hesitates, taking her time to follow the other girl, and Eddie wastes no time in digging his face in the crook of your neck, immediately nibbling at the soft skin, pressing kisses in between. The sound of the door slamming shut is Eddie's go sign for his hands to start wandering. "Eds" You breathe out, legs unconsciously spreading slightly.
Steve's eyes widen as Eddie reaches for the zipper of your skirt, carefully beginning to tug the denim fabric down your legs. Lifting your hips up, you use your boyfriend's strong torso as support as you kick at your skirt to finally free your legs. Surprisingly, you don't feel at all exposed in front of Steve, rather comfortable in his presence. "Steve?" You enquire, cocking your head to the side at the look of shock on his face, his jaw completely slack. "You okay?" The second his head snaps back up to meet your gaze, he's frantically nodding for you to go on, so Eddie waste no time snaking his fingers down your bright red lace panties.
"So naughty wearing a red thong under such a short skirt. Did you want Steve to see them?" Eddie whispers in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. You moan at his quiet question, your hips involuntarily bucking when he finds your clit, beginning to tease you. "Spread your legs for me baby." He says, this time loud enough for Steve, who's intently watching, to hear the comment. Fixing your gaze on the blushing man, you can't help but stare at the obvious bulge in his pants, licking your lips slightly while obeying your boyfriend's command.
Easily, Eddie manhandles you so that you directly face Steve, allowing him a perfect view of Eddie's hand teasing you under your lace panties. "How about I get rid of this?" He mutters, and your eyes snap wide open at the sound of fabric ripping. "Eddie!" You whine, but you can't stay mad because that's the moment he decides to stop teasing you, instead using your juices as a lubricant to slip two fingers into your hole. You gasp out a moan, throwing your head back onto your boyfriend's shoulder, but it seems for a moment that you don't have his full attention anymore.
Steve looks like a deer caught in headlights when you look up, catching him palming his dick through his thick jeans. "Why don't you give yourself a little more space to breathe, yeah Stevie?" Eddie enjoys teasing him, despite knowing that having you all spread out in front of him without being able to touch you is punishment enough. "Fuck." You mutter, rolling your hips against Eddie's hand to match his slowing rhythm. "Please Stevie." Your plea is enough for Steve to hurriedly unzip his jeans, freeing his hard dick, which slaps the bottom of his abdomen angrily. You try squeezing your legs for more friction but Eddie tuts, using his free hand to pull your left leg as far to the side as he can, finally speeding up when he sees Steve finally grabbing his dick to play with himself properly.
"Can't come until Stevie does, okay sweetheart?" A whine comes out instead of an answer, your eyes shut in satisfaction. It's only when you feel a hand on your face, barely squeezing your cheeks together that you nod, murmuring an "Okay, okay Eds." Your eyes trail to where Steve's hand is quickly moving up and down his cock, then down to where Eddie's hand is vigorously going in and out of you, the palm of his hand making a loud slapping sound every time it hits your clit. You silently pray for Steve to come as fast as he can because with Eddie's pace, there's no way you're gonna hold off.
With a sudden realisation that your boyfriend is the only one not receiving some source of pleasure, you snake a hand between your back and Eddie's stomach, blindly looking for his dick, which you know for certain is painfully hard. "What you looking for sweetheart?" You hear your boyfriend ask you amidst all the pleasure. "Y'r cock." You slur, moaning as he begins rubbing circles on your clit. Steve must be close, you realise, looking back up at the other boy, who jerks himself off, eyes stuck on you and your boyfriend. "God, you're so big Stevie." You praise, grinning when he whines loudly, hips bucking up into his hand.
"Are you gonna cum for me?" You press on, noticing the effect your words have on him. "Cum for me- oh God-" Your words are cut off from your own pleasure, bucking your hips up into Eddie's hand after he sends a harsh slap to your clit with his free hand. He's warning you not to go too far. "Cum for me Stevie." The boy in front of you moans your name repeatedly, and Eddie's hand becomes more aggressive on your pussy, pushing you towards your orgasm, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. "Eddie! Oh Eddie, I-fuck!" Eddie's hand pushes your face in his direction, and he presses his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss full of tongue and saliva as he begins to slow his movements on your cunt, riding out your orgasm.
You pant and moan into the kiss, turning to face him completely once he removes his hand from your pussy, wrapping both your arms over his shoulders to try and deepen the kiss. His hands play with your ass, and he's trying to subtly grind you over his dick, the tent in his pants obvious. Finally, you pull away from him, turning to face Steve, who has cum covering the bottom of his shirt as well as his black boxers. He sits there watching you both, trying to catch his breath. When you pull on your skirt, having abandoned the ripped panties, you walk over to Steve, putting a hand on his shoulder for comfort, and you lean in to press a kiss on his cheek. "I think that was the most intense orgasm I've ever had." He admits, smiling when Eddie barks out a laugh.
"Look man, this was really nice, but I'm so hard I can barely move, so I think me and Y/N should go." It's you and Steve's turn to laugh, and you clamber up to your feet, slipping your feet into your sandals before speeding up to catch up with your boyfriend.
#stranger things#stranger things fics#rainydayathogwarts#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#stranger things smut#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#eddie x fem!reader#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie x steve#eddie x you#steve x eddie#steve x you#steddie
810 notes
·
View notes
Text
I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.
Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.
It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).
And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).
But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.
And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.
He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—
Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.
His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.
Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.
And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.
"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."
Steve just grunts in response.
"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—
"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."
Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.
"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"
Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.
Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"
He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.
"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"
His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."
"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."
Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."
Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."
Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—
"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?
"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.
"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.
"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.
"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"
Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.
"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"
He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."
Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."
"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—
"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"
"You think?" he meekly asks.
Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."
Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."
"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"
"Can we go to the convention, too?"
"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."
For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.
"I know."
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#future fic#modern day#Steve gets involved in a fandom space#established steddie
408 notes
·
View notes
Text
still into you (steddie ficlet)
Eddie wakes to the mouthwatering smell of bacon and eggs and fresh-made pancakes. He stretches lazily and heads to the kitchen to find Steve at the stove making breakfast, moving expertly between flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs and checking the bacon. A stupid kiss the cook apron is tied at the waist over his bare torso and sinful pajama shorts, and he looks just as delicious as the food he's cooking. The whole scene makes something warm and fluttery bloom bright in Eddie's chest.
He sits at the counter and sighs dreamily, resting his chin in his hand as he watches him. “God, I have such a crush on you.”
Steve looks over his shoulder with an amused expression that crinkles the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. “We're literally married.”
“I know,” Eddie gushes, so in awe of this fact you'd think it was a new development even though it very much isn't. He marvels at his husband of 34 years, admires every inch of Steve's middle-aged body, every place where his time-worn skin is creased with signs of age and a life well lived and well loved. The beauty of him still knocks the wind out of Eddie, a breathless giggle bubbling up his throat. “But that doesn't mean I don't still have a massive fucking crush on you.”
Steve huffs out a chuckle before turning his attention back to the stove, a quick duck of his head as if to hide a blush.
Emboldened, Eddie stands and comes up to wrap his arms around him from behind. He nuzzles into Steve's neck, breathes in his salt and pepper hair and smiles into the curve of his shoulder. “I’m serious. Even after all this time, you still give me butterflies,” Eddie says, resting his hands over Steve's stomach and pressing gently to demonstrate his words, “right here, like I’m a teenager again. My aged heart still does very youthful backflips just at the sight of you, and I feel that rush of falling in love all over again, again and again, like it's the very first time.”
Eddie remembers a conversation he'd had with his uncle once, when he was much much younger and Wayne was about the age Eddie is now. When you get older, you don't feel that type a’ love the same way anymore, Wayne had told him. It ain't the same heart-pounding, all-encompassing, get drunk off of it sort a’ giddy head-rush you get in your teens and twenties. It loses that kind a’ thrill, gets quieter.
Eddie had found that thoroughly depressing, despite his uncle’s insistences that this was not a bad thing. Don't mean that love and attraction ain't there or that you can't feel it anymore, Wayne reassured him, it's just different is all. He'd shrugged then, his face like leather, worn and fond and bemused by his nephew’s wild youth. Old hearts get tired, Ed, he'd said. You'll get it when you get to be my age.
Well, Eddie has gotten to be his age and he still doesn't get it. He does feel that quieter love, the kind that comes from shared routines and easy conversation and even easier silences, made up of trust and familiarity, the kind that settles into his bones like it was always meant to be there. But the thrill is still there too, as strong as ever. Steve still makes his heart race and his head spin. Eddie's stomach still flutters at his smile; his touch still sets off fireworks beneath his skin. Even now, Eddie feels a little dizzy just holding him, heartbeat faster.
“We may get old,” Eddie continues his declaration, “but the way I feel about you never will.” He holds Steve tighter, hooking his chin over his husband's shoulder after pressing a kiss to it. “I will never get over the thrill of you, and my heart will never get tired of it.”
“You are a dramatic old sap,” Steve says through a suppressed smile, rolling his eyes as he plates the food and turns off the stove, but then he's turning around in Eddie's arms and pulling him into a spirited kiss.
Eddie's blood feels like it's made of champagne, bubbly and fizzy and utterly intoxicated as Steve fills his senses. They kiss with the same clumsy passion they'd had at 21, too eager clashes of teeth and bruising lips. It's messy, inelegant, perfect, broken within seconds when their smiles become uncontainable. They pull apart, pink-cheeked and laughing.
Steve grins. His eyes shine with all the same giddiness of infatuation and warmth of love as he holds Eddie's face in his hands and tells him, “I have a massive fucking crush on you too.”
#short and sweet#old man steddie married for 30+ years and still in their honeymoon phase <3#yes this was inspired by the paramore song#and also a conversation i had with my aunt#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#ficlet#mine
545 notes
·
View notes