#possesive eddie

[eddiestightywhities]

my hand slipped and i wrote 2K of About To Be Cheating Cheaters buddie (sorry tommy!). here's one half of what i've gotten down so far.

.

“That's why I'm here, hermano. To make your drunk ass drink lots of water, and to stop all that spiralling shit in its detrimental tracks. If you haven't figured it out by now, I don't much like things that hurt my family.”

Eddie's head is still spinning. 

“Hermano? Really Buck? I've only ever been a brother, never had one. But I'm pretty sure any brother of mine wouldn't look a lick like you.”

Dios, Eddie is so, so drunk, and such a horrible person for being so, so glad that Buck is here, with Eddie, instead of someplace with his boyfriend that Eddie definitely does not want to be thinking about.

Eddie needs Buck like oxygen right now because Eddie is a pathetic mess. What the fuck would some perfect pilot that's built like a brick shithouse know about being a pathetic mess? Screw you, Iceman—Buck and Eddie are the Maverick and Goose of this movie, fuck you very much. Always have been. Always will be. 

Buck's eyebrows are trying to migrate and join up with his hairline. “Oh, really? What, I'm not good-looking enough to be a Diaz? Is that it?” 

That is very much not it. 

Eddie teases, “Aw, guapo, you worried you're not pretty enough for me?” because he clearly left his last bit of sanity in the hook and ladder down on Main. He feels like he's having an out of body experience, looking down on himself from up on the ceiling and can practically see his blood fizzing beneath his skin like someone injected popping candy into his veins while he wasn't looking.

What the fuck is he doing? 

Buck isn't as drunk as Eddie, but he suddenly looks stone cold sober, blinking furiously through whatever emotions are gripping him right now. Eddie can usually tell what Buck is feeling without having to so much as look at him, but there's currently so much candied rum in his system that it's numbing his higher brain function.

“Uh, that's, uh—it's—that's not exactly what I was getting at, Eddie,” Buck stumbles, trying to right himself from the suckerpunch. 

“So what exactly are you getting at, Evan.”

Eddie never uses that name. Not once before telling Buck about changing his will, and never since. He'd only opted back in that hospital room to call Buck by what is printed on his birth certificate to get his full attention, so he understood that what Eddie was telling him was really fucking important. Back when Eddie had very almost told Buck how he feels about him, before bailing on the notion at the last millisecond like the chicken-shit he is and always has been. 

Tommy calls Buck Evan. Only ever calls him Evan. As if he knows the first fucking thing about Eddie's best friend! Eddie thinks that at this exact moment in time, regardless of how the guy is supposed to be his shiny new pal, he might just despise Tommy Kinard with every fibre of his being. Who the hell does he think he is, flying in on his helicopter like every day is leg day, with his stupid, funny fake-mouth-static and those stupid, handsome cheekbones, pissing all over Eddie's territory with his probably Incredible Hulk sized dick and trying to take Eddie's Buck away from him?

You're mine, he thinks. Almost says it, too. And he might say it yet, if Buck keeps on squirming as beautifully as he is right now, the raging heat of his twitchy body searing into Eddie's side like a branding iron that states If Lost Return To Evan Buckley. 

And I'm yours, he thinks, and knows it to be true. Knows he could make it true, that it could maybe be everything, potentially, if only Eddie stopped being such a yellow-belly. 

Fuck Kinard. Fuck all of them that have come before and after Eddie. None of them have loved, or love Buck the way he does. None of them. Eddie knows this because he loves Buck so much it somehow fortifies his heart to make it able to force its way through the spaces between his cracked rib cage and break free to beat wildly in double-time, bleeding, bleeding, bleeding. 

Eddie, feeling drunker by the second, hasn't looked away from Buck in a hot minute—Buck who now looks like he might be having a minor stroke. Stretching across to plop his glass clumsily onto the coffee table and missing the coaster by a Texas mile, Eddie then dries any possibility of lingering water droplets from his moustache with a clunky swipe of his thumb and forefinger, before turning to face Buck with a lot more cock-surety than sense. 

Buck is Eddie's best friend. His partner. The man who loves his kid. The man who Eddie gave his kid to because they both love his kid that much. He's the lunatic who has unofficially moved in with Eddie—because Eddie has driven their kid away with his epic levels of bullshit—even though he currently has a boyfriend.

Buck, Buck, Buck, who Eddie is now positive should be his boyfriend. 

Licking his lips, he feels like he's forgetting something. Like maybe all of the reasons he's steered himself clear of this iceberg for so long—only he's far too drunk, and far too selfish, to try to remember that or care. 

Buck swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and Eddie wants fervently to get his teeth and tongue around it. Then he's muttering, “Eddie, I just meant—” 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, begs, demands. 

His fingertips have found the soft fabric of Buck's deep blue waffle-weave shirt, where it's covering the expanse of his chest. He's trying to get to his heart, he realises, feeling blindly for any sign of double-time, wanting to taste the blood in its chambers the way Buck has tasted Eddie's.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes, mirroring Eddie which doesn't make a lick of sense apart from the fact that it makes perfect sense, to Eddie. 

Eddie's cheeks are burning but he thinks fuck it, throwing the both the extinguisher and life ring overboard and going full steam ahead. 

.

[dearramiel]

[I wrote this in like an hour]

✧ - blood, possessive/undertones of obsessive behavior, a bit of force, claiming undertones, jealousy, Unprotected sex, breeding undertones(if u squint), afab reader/ no pronouns used, hickeys mention, this is rushed but we love eddie

Eddie Munson owns you. You own him.

You belong to him, and he belongs to you.

He always has an arm around your shoulder, your body is always pressed up against his chest.

You always have a patch of hickeys leading from your neck, down to your chest. Eddie always has hickeys in the most obvious spots because you are just as possessive as he is, though his love for you is the strongest.

He makes you wear his lucky pick, the chain looking beautiful on you, the red plastic always on top of your shirt rather than hiding it. You make him wear your thin silver chain that has a beautiful ruby stone. You think it compliments his eyes.

You have one of his rings, his version of a promise ring, he's got his own matching one. He often calls you his fiancée because there is no when in Heaven and Hell that he's letting go of you, and he knows this goes both ways because you always stick to his side after gigs, school, campaigns, and work.

He just loves how jealous you get whenever a female client shows up to the shop, or even his part time job at the record store, especially if she's another metalhead. But you also love when he gets jealous, you love the way his eyes bore holes into whoever has your attention. You love the way he pulls you forcefully against him, the way his hands keep you in place, the way he pushes you onto his bed, knocking you off your feet. You especially love the way he buries his cock into your cunt, the long drags of his size inside your pink walls has you whimpering for harsher thrusts. The shock of his dick hitting your cervix, the hot ropes of cum the flood your insides, and deep bite he leaves that has a dribble of blood running down your neck.

[jaebeomsbitch]

The Princess and Eggplant (E.M.)

Summary: Your boyfriend happens to be a foot taller than you...or Eddie is afraid to stick it all the way in, afraid to hurt you

Warnings: Minors DNI, size kink, pure smut

Pairings: Boyfriend!Eddie x Girlfriend!Reader

A/N: watching Sex and the City and couldn’t stop thinking about the size difference between Carrie and Aidan. As a 5'1 they/them I'm drooling. Literally finished this a while ago but couldn't find a good gif, I'm gonna start making my own banners

Like Eddie holding you up, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his big hands on your ass. His tongue in your mouth as he kisses you more and more aggressively until you can’t breath and your head is spinning. The way he manhandles you, impaling his thick cock inside you as he grits his teeth trying to control himself from being too rough. But his cock only fits half way and you’re clinging onto his shoulders moaning like a ghost in a haunted house.

You heave for air as his cock knocks the wind out of you. He lays you out on the bed, your hair fanning out as he yanks you to the edge of the bed.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans looking at the way his cock disappears inside of you. His neck straining as he holds himself back.

“More Eddie, fuck give me more” you gasp, your nails digging into his back.

“S-shit baby, don’t wanna hurt you” he grunts, slowly pulling out and back halfway in. As he refuses to go deeper, his eyes already rolling back as your tight velvet walls grip onto him.

“Please Eddie” you whine, pressing the heels of your feet into his ass forcing him deeper into you. Your jaw slacks as you’re stretched open by your boyfriend.

“S-shit s-so fucking big” you moan pressing your chest into his.

“F-fuck you’re gonna kill me” he groans voice higher pitched then normal. He hisses, teeth clenched tightly as he tries to remain still. However you don’t give him the chance, you dig your feet deeper into his pale ass. Pushing him inch by inch slowly into you until his hips are flush with your ass.

Eddie knows that he needs to be the one to slow down, but it's hard when you feel this good - especially when you're moaning like that. He hasn’t even moved and yet you’re already cock drunk. You’re drooling and moaning incoherently as Eddie’s cock fits like a puzzle piece inside you, nice and deep.your pussy struggles to accommodate the stretch. Your walls pulse around him almost like it’s trying to push Eddie out. 

His arms shake as he shallowly thrusts into you, little grunts leaving his lips. 

“Fuck Princess, so fucking tight” he whines. 

“S-shit it’s like you’re fucking choking my cock” he grunts out, looking at the slight bulge in your lower stomach every time he slides back in. The sight is enough to make him cum right then and there. 

“F-fuck fuck fuck ohhhh fuck” you moan underneath him trying to grind into him but his grip on your hips tightens. You know he’s gonna leave bruises on you but you fucking love it. Love that he’s practically whimpering “princess” under his breath like a broken record, like he needs to burn the feeling and imagine in his head. 

“More, Eddie please-” you whine, your pussy pulsing around him desperately trying to drag him back in. He shakes his head vehemently, his jaw tight as he grinds his teeth. No girl could ever take his full cock before and much less someone so petite. 

“So fucking perfect Princess. Your pussy’s taking me so fucking good. Fucking stretching out to fit my cock baby” he grunts out starting to lose his reserve. His hips move slightly faster as he feels the burn deep in his gut. 

“Made f’you Eds” you nod, eyebrows pinched together as he pulls the rubber band tighter. You flex your stomach trying to keep it together. Your moans getting louder as his his resolve starts to slack more and more. 

It isn’t long until he’s snapping his hips into yours looking like a man possessed. He’s fucking feral, hair wild, pupils blown out, neck flexed. His whole body is tense as he pounds into you fast and hard completely breaking you down. 

You’re more than cock drunk at this point. Babbling gibberish, writhing under him, pulling at the sheets, your eyes closed shut as you’re in your own little world taking Eddie’s thick cock. 

“Jesus fucking Christ” Eddie moans at the sight of you. Most girls would’ve cried in pain, he always needed at least an hour of stretching and foreplay to get half way in and yet here you are taking it.

“M’gonna cum!” You cry, stomach flexing harder, your muscles tightening almost painfully. 

“Fuck- cum on my cock, Princess,” he pants, his balls slapping into your ass, hand pressing into your stomach feeling the bulge of his cock.

“Ohh fuck- fuck- fuckkk fuckkk” you all but scream as you let go. You tremble under Eddie’s body, face contorted, jaw slacked, drool dripping down your chin. It’s like you’re high and drunk at the same time. 

“That’s it Princess milk my fucking cock. Taking me so well, begging for my fucking cum” he grunts. His eyes rolling back as he clenched his jaw and comes hard. Thick white ropes paint your velvet walls already dripping down to your ass. Your pussy too small to accommodate both his cock and cum. 

“Shit” he heaves, slowly pulling out not trying to hurt you further. 

“I’m not gonna be able to walk am I?” You groan as he nuzzles into your neck. 

He chuckles,”probably not.”

“You’re the worst” you mumble lightly nipping his bottom lip. 

“Not what you were yelling two seconds ago” he murmurs against your lips. That’s dimpled grin on his face as he presses for a kiss and another and another.  

[briarberrythornedhart]

Pinned down

Wayne Munson didn’t like cooking or baking or putting much effort into eating at all. Wayne would eat a bowl of cereal for every meal if he could.

Except - if the cookery involved open flames. Then, suddenly he transformed from the kinda guy who would push through a Hungryman tv dinner that was cold in the center to a gourmet foodie snob.

“Don’t turn that chicken yet, Sonny-jim, let it get the good grill marks.”

“I thought I was grilling tonight?” Eddie complained. “Go relax in a lawn chair, old man.”

“I thought you were grilling tonight too, but if you don’t focus and stop checking out your friend in the short shorts over there, you’re gonna undercook the sausage and burn the chicken.” Wayne Munson was at ease from two PBR’s on an empty ‘don’t want to ruin my appetite’ stomach and the sass that came standard with the Munson Make/Models was out on display.

“We are more than Friends. And I’m very focused.” Eddie said through gritted teeth.

“Gimme that...” Wayne held out his hand for the tongs and gave them a satisfying click click when Eddie passed them over. “...lemme take over so you can go spend time with your ‘more than friend’ and stop ruining the food. Maybe go lock that down? Hmmm? Before Gentleman Jeff get’s here with his nice new post-braces smile and his excellent table manners?? Or Harrington get’s here with his gravity defying hair and his trust fund?”

Eddie was making an annoyed face when he sidled up to you under the shitty gazebo where you were laying out the deviled eggs, the potato salad and the very special homemade cookies you’d baked because Eddie said he loved peanut butter cookies ONE time and you listened.

“Everything okay?” You asked. “You look kinda put out.”

“Nooo... My Uncle seems to think I don’t have you ‘locked down.”

That made you laugh. But Eddie’s face was stone serious

“I guess we’ve been quieter at night than I thought?” You said all arch and flirty.

“I’ve been quiet.” Eddie asserted, tried to look innocent.

“No you haven't, babe.” You shook your head, offered him a cookie, he declined. Clearly worried about something. Too worried for pre-dinner cookies??

“I think Wayne thinks I should ‘pin’ you.”

“Oh - you do that all the time.” You grinned, lasciviously.

“No, you know what I mean. Make it official. Or give you a.... ring?” Eddie toyed with his warthog ring - looking at you very seriously. “Is it too soon? Are you not sure about me yet?”

“Want me to get ‘Eddie’ tattooed on me - someplace strategically visible?” You were not kidding.

“You’d do that for me?”

You leaned towards Eddie and whispered, like this was secret knowledge. “I’m pretty locked down.”

“You tell me you’re mine at night, but I want everyone to know it.” Eddie licked his upper lip and took off his WASP pin - and when you nodded - he gently pinned it on your t-shirt near the collar. He kissed your cheek and said “Now, you’re mine.”

You took out one of your new dangly Ankh earrings and swapped it with Eddie’s ear stud. You kissed his neck below his earlobe. “Now, you’re mine.” You said.

Eddie undid his chain bracelet and tried to put it on you, but it was a hair too big, he ended up loosening it and putting it on your ankle.

You took off your adjustable silver snake ring and widened it up to fit on his left pinky.

Your friends started to show up to the party. Eddie whispered in your ear “I’ll pin you more later.”

[psychotic-nonsense]

|| >

There's not much Steve remembers.

There's a group of people walking through the woods, some older, some teens. He's amongst them. The sky is too dark and the trees are too dead. His hands are tight, holding something close. There's an air of panic, stress, hurry, caution. A mistake was made, and they need to escape.

Then instincts flare and the trees descend on them. Sharp rushes of wind, the shrill shrieking of something otherworldly. There's teeth and sharp whips and screaming and gunshots.

Then the swirling mass parts and the shrieks turn human, and Steve remembers the visceral fear of seeing the mass separate. One half rises, carrying a flailing, manic figure, and no no no Robin please no not Robin please no me take me instead you bastards not Robin please no Robin Robin-

Then the other half descends, whips circle his wrists, and the ground falls beneath him. There's screaming behind and before him as the earth fades away, and it's a cruel parallel, floating when all he wants to do is sink.

Robin's thrashing, Steve's thrashing. Their weapons have no use here, where teeth and whips maul them. Amid the pain, all Steve can do is plead to Robin, to forgive, to hope, to fight.

Robin finds the weak spot first. A quick succession of blind swings, a fierce thrash of flailing limbs. The bats scare, release her. But they're too high. Steve feels his throat go coarse as he watches Robin crash into the dead forest below, unable to differentiate the snapping between bark and bone.

Steve finds it in him to copy the act, do the same. And somehow, it works. Somehow, he's weightless.

There's a fierce pressure and the first snap he remembers feeling both on and within his skin-

And Steve wakes up.

It's not sudden, it's gradual. He feels the pains within him slowly throb to life, rousing him from sleep like an anchor rising from the sea. His left hand feels thick, and there's a burning poker laying across his forehead. His jaw feels wrong, and his eye stings and throbs.

His other senses slowly begin to return as well. He's laying down, his head tilted to his left, a bit cramped in the space as something presses around his shoulders. The material he's on isn't very comfortable either, some parts stabbing into his back, and there's a crinkling sound every time he breathes. He hears the faint rippling of water, and somewhere out there, it rushes fast and hard.

It's hell to even think of doing it, but as Steve returns to reality, his instincts rise to the surface, and he knows he has to get up soon. So he opens his eyes. He fights the involuntary tears, wincing as the stinging worsens, then wincing further when his face crumbles in the looping pain.

Finally, he can see a little. Where he is, it's thankfully pretty dark, with only a faint golden glow illuminating the area around him. His eyes strain to see through the darkness past the range of the light-

And then Steve notices where he is. A boathouse. The boathouse. The same one from a night that feels like a lifetime ago, rather than a few weeks. The start of their worst journey, the beginning of a friendship that would grow just to rot into a sour mess of guilt and loneliness.

He's laying within the same boat too...

His eyes focus on some motion across from him. A table covered in a lump of tarps and ratty cloths, and atop it sleeps a figure. Her face is scrunched up in pain, a patch of bloody fabric covering her cheek. One leg has been removed of all clothes, the ankle wrapped and foot elevated. Steve knows her, and instinct briefly overpowers everything else.

"Robs?-" Steve cracks out, his voice sore and rough. His body tries to rise, moving habitually, and he barely rises onto his elbows before the world pounces on him again. It's so strong and he's so weak that he can't move more than the closing of his eyes and the falling of his chin to his chest, can't make a sound louder than a whimper.

Suddenly there's a noise, there's movement beside him. The light glows just a tough brighter, and there's a base warmth suddenly pulsing through his chest.

It's a person, shushing him. Their hand is resting softly on his back, simultaneously supporting him and urging him down.

"Please, stay. It is better for you to rest."

The voice speaks softer than Steve can remember, but he still knows it. It's monotone, sounds ghostly, faint, quiet in a way that has nothing to do with volume, but it's still familiar. Still brings the memories around Steve right into the present, takes him back to that corpse, makes the presence around him feel more melancholic than scary.

Which is funnily enough, even more terrifying.

Steve can't move, can't pull his sight up to face what can't be reality.

"Apologies for the location. We cannot stray too far from the Gates."

The monotone changes to sound almost apologetic, more real, more like what Steve has been craving. It's what finally makes him cave, to turn his eyes to face the impossible.

Who he sees, what he sees, both crushes and rises his hope. Because past everything before him - the inhuman glow, the calm, plain expression - he finds exactly what he's been fighting for.

"Eddie...?" Steve pleads.

The blank face falls, just slightly. Like it's guilty.

"I'm sorry. No. Not quite."

(cleaner version below)

[mybrainshyperfixtations]

ahajshejdhs i just finished 3x17 and like knowing abby would be making an appearance vs seeing her are two different things. i told myself i would wait until tomorrow to watch 3x18 but i fear i will be watching it now and continuing to fuck up my sleep schedule

[afewproblems]

For the writing prompts - steddie, 3. “I’m not jealous” or 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!”? Pls & Ty

-steddierthings

Thank you so much @steddierthings for your lovely prompt! I chose number 3, "I'm not Jealous" (I was trying to get both prompts but just couldn't come up with a solid enough idea for the two of them)

This is partly inspired by this post that I read recently but I really like this idea and I do hope that you enjoy!

This was the last straw, Gareth thinks to himself, his face in his hands, fingers dangerously close to plunging themselves into his eyes. 

“I can’t take it anymore man,” Gareth groans as Jeff takes a seat at their favorite table. It’s tucked away into the far corner of the Hideaway, the thick shiny veneer has been dulled over the years and the honey wood beneath is covered in thick layers of graffiti and carved initials. Jeff is particularly proud of the Metallica logo he painstakingly free-drew out on one of the corners while the bartender wasn’t looking. 

Jeff snorts as his gaze travels to Eddie at the bar before falling back to Gareth, who has dropped his hands in favour of glaring at the back of their friend. 

"If I have to hear him fuckin' harp about Harringtons perfect lips one more time I swear I'm going to lose it," he mutters before taking one last pull on the nearly empty bottle in front of him. Gareth winces at the taste of warm beer as he swallows the dregs and puts the bottle down a tad harsher than he means to. 

Jeff rolls his eyes and smirks, "I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon dude, he's too much of a chicken-shit to actually do anything about it," he shrugs and takes a swig of his own beer, "besides, you remember him after the senior swim meet?" 

"Oh my Goood," Gareth groans and drops his head to the sticky table surface, "he didn't shut up about that swim suit, or his moles, for a fucking month". 

Now admittedly, Gareth could appreciate that Steve Harrington was hot, he had eyes in his head after all. 

But he just couldn't understand this sudden resurgence of Eddie's very vocal pining from afar. 

After the whole business with poor Chrissy, the man-hunt that left Gareth and Jeff incredibly spooked, and the sudden earthquakes that swallowed much of their small town, Eddie had come back to their band with a gaggle mismatched party members that trailed after him like lost puppies -including Steve Harrington. 

Now, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler made sense. Robin was one of their own -a band geek, sheep adjacent in her own right and Nancy was Mike's sister, whip-smart and twice as scary. 

But Steve, former jock and King of the hallways of Hawkins high? 

It made no sense. 

But, he had been there for Eddie through it all apparently. Steve had sat at his bedside in the hospital, trading off with Wayne and Dustin to let them go home for a rest while they waited for Eddie to wake up. He had brought over food to the Munson's new trailer to help while Eddie was still recovering, and even offered to host their renewed Hellfire nights at the Harrington House rather than the school. 

As much as Gareth hated to admit it, Steve Harrington actually seemed to have turned into a decent dude. 

Which brings him back to the issue at hand. 

"I just don't get why he won't shut up about him man," Gareth says with a sigh, he looks over at Jeff who is busy rolling his eyes and looking for an empty spot on their table to tag with his pen.

"I mean, you would if you've ever been hopelessly in love with someone before," Jeff says with a shrug before elbowing Gareth sharply as Eddie makes his way back to the table with three beers.

Oh…well shit.

"Maybe he just needs a little push," Gareth hums under his breath to Jeff as Eddie plunks the bottles down and slides them across the table toward them.

"What are we talking about?" Eddie asks as he takes a seat on one of the mismatched chairs on the far side of the table, he looks between Jeff and Gareth expectantly with a crooked grin. 

Gareth takes the new bottle in front of him and tears at the slightly damp paper label with his nail, as a new thought blooms, he turns to meet Jeff's eyes with a grin and lets the thought travel through their gaze.

I have a plan.

No.

Dude, trust me!

Jeff shakes his head and hides a smile behind his beer as he takes another swig.

"We were just talking about the next Hellfire meeting, maybe we can sweet talk Harrington into hosting again for us," Gareth says, trying to keep his voice level, he leans forward on his elbows and ignores the sigh that escapes Jeff beside him. 

Eddie brightens slightly and smiles for a moment before it disappears as his eyes narrow suspiciously, "probably," he says after a beat, "why?" 

"No reason," Gareth hums again as innocently as he can manage, "Steve's great, it'll be cool to catch up on how the Hoosiers are doing, that's all". 

Eddie freezes across the table and Jeff kicks Gareth's leg, hard, he fights off a wince at the impact and kicks back. 

"I uh," Eddie stutters out as he slowly seems to gain his movement back, "I didn't know you liked Basketball". 

Gareth waves his left hand and drops his gaze back to the bottle in his right, trap set. 

"I don't follow it that closely, that's why it's nice to talk to Steve about it," he lies.

Gareth has no interest in Basketball and has not in fact spoken to Steve much, outside of thanking him for hosting their last session. He can feel Jeff's gaze boring into the side of his face, it's one lie, one little white lie and it's for a good purpose, right? For love!

He tries not to let Eddie's somber face eat away at him for the rest of the night.

It's at the next Hellfire night that Gareth decides to kick things up a notch despite Jeff's warnings. 

"Just don't do anything really stupid man," Jeff tells him over the phone before the game. It wasn't like it was malicious, Eddie just needed a little push in the right direction. 

Maybe a big push.

Gareth takes a deep breath as he walks into the kitchen of the Harrington house, he'd never been here himself during the wild party phase King Steve had been infamous for and he can see why it was the central hub for the popular crowd. 

The kitchen itself is massive and the in-ground pool outside the window seems like it would be fun in the summer without the chill of April winds and the tarp covering it. 

Steve is in the kitchen talking with Eddie, he's wearing a slightly oversized forest green sweater and tight blue-jeans which --even Gareth catches himself staring a little too long at. Focus.

He's bent over the oven and putting something on a cookie sheet onto the middle rack before standing back up and closing the door. Steve takes off the floral oven mitts and sweeps his wild hair away from his heat-flushed face. Eddie seems to be listening but his eyes are just slightly glazed over and lingered far too long on the swell of Steve's jean-clad ass as he bent over.

"Hey man," Gareth calls out from the kitchen entrance, he ignores the way Eddie freezes again before slumping into a pout.

"Oh hey," Steve says, his voice tinged with slight surprise, "you excited for the session tonight?" 

Gareth nods and siddles up closer to the pair, he leans around to take a peek at the oven behind them and sniffs the air exaggeratedly, "oh what did you make for us this time Harrington? I swear, if you cooked for me like that every day I'd die a happy man". 

A pretty pink blush blooms over Steve's cheeks and ears as he fumbles with one of the oven mitts, and Okay, if Eddie doesn't make a move soon maybe….

No. Focus up man.

Steve's large hazel eyes flick from Gareth to Eddie so fast he almost misses it. 

"Uh, I mean, it's just some pizza rolls, I didn't actually have time today," Steve mumbles with a shrug, he doesn't seem to notice the furious glare that Eddie shoots Gareth's way, too busy turning around to set the timer on the little plastic egg on the counter. 

"Next time, I'm sure," Gareth says with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Steves and leaning into his space, a startled high pitched laugh bubbles out of Steve who shrugs again. 

Eddie reaches out and slings an arm around Steve's shoulders, tugging him slightly away from Gareth and into Eddie's space. He watches, fascinated as Steve relaxes slightly into Eddie's hold. 

"Stevie here does such a good job taking care of us," Eddie says sweetly into Steve's ear, he may as well have pissed in a circle around the kitchen and told Gareth to back off and eat glass, it doesn't go unnoticed the way Steve seems to bask in the attention -to Gareth anyway.

Ah well, in for a penny.

"How is it that someone hasn't snatched you up yet Harrington? He cooks, he cleans, he hosts game nights? Like a regular Carol Brady or something," Gareth asks, his voice almost wavers as Eddie's hackles rise. Eddie's normally soft brown eyes have hardened and he's looking at Gareth as though trying to figure out if he could actually get away with kicking him in the shin, or somewhere slightly higher.

But then all at once Eddie sags, he abruptly drops his arm from Steve's shoulder and stomps out of the kitchen leaving Steve and Gareth alone as the back door slams shut. 

Well shit.

Steve's eyebrows crinkle together worriedly as he bites his bottom lip, his eyes trained on the back door, "that was mean," he says softly before finally shifting his gaze to meet Gareth's surprised face, "I know what you were trying to do, but I don't think he was really ready to talk about it yet man," Steve continues with a shake of his head before seemingly steeling himself.

Steve breathes out a long sigh and hands Gareth the oven mitt in his hand without looking at him, "that timer is going to go off in about eight more minutes, just flip them when it goes off and then put them back for another ten".

And with that Steve steps around him to follow Eddie out the door. 

"I told you not to do anything stupid man," Jeff's voice floats into the kitchen from the hall, Gareth resists the urge to knock his head into the wall beside him.

"I know, I know," he mumbles as Jeff takes the spot that Eddie and Steve had vacated, "I should probably go apologize, can you watch these?" Gareth gestures towards the oven as he hands over the mitts.

Jeff's nods and rolls his eyes again as he leans back against the counter, "I better hear groveling dude," he calls out as Gareth makes his way towards the back door, "don't think Eddie wouldn't kill your character just to spite you!"

Gareth walks a little faster at the thought.

Without a porch light the yard is dark but for the pale moonlight that stretches over the lawn and patio. He makes his way down the stairs but pauses as soft voices reach his ears. 

"I'm not, I'm not jealous man," Eddie scoffs, his voice comes out in a sharp growl.

"No, Eds, that's not what I'm saying--" 

"Why would I be jealous, I don't own you, you can date or screw whoever you want Harrington," Eddie says again, his voice now bitter and soft.

There's silence for a moment before Steve speaks slowly, "whoever I want huh?" 

"Be my guest," Eddie scoffs again.

Gareth tip toes over, closer to the corner of the house and crouches down beside the bushes before peeking around the corner, just in time to see Steve step forward and slowly cup Eddie's face before leaning in to kiss him. 

Gareth resists the urge to cheer in relief, but it's a near thing. 

Eddie is frozen for a moment before he seems to come back to himself, his hands rise up to thread into Steve's hair and around the small of his back as Eddie walks them backwards into the side of the house, he presses Steve against it drawing out a surprised gasp which Eddie swallows with a please hum.

Gareth takes this as his queue to back away slowly and tip toe back up the stairs, no need to add voyeurism to his list of crimes for the day. 

When Steve and Eddie do finally return to the kitchen, Steve's hair is in complete disarray and his lips are nearly as red as his flushed cheeks. Eddie grins widely, radiating happiness, and saunters in with his arm loosely draped around Steve's waist. 

Eddie spots Gareth hovering awkwardly near the oven, Jeff pays neither of them any mind as he takes out their treats from the oven and asks Steve for a hand plating everything for the kids in the living room. Steve smiles knowingly at Jeff, his eyes trail over to Eddie and Gareth once before he snags a platter from the cupboard and leads Jeff to the farthest side of the kitchen. 

"I suppose I have you to thank for that?" Eddie says quietly, the rising volume in the living room teases the arrival of the kids at any moment. 

"Yeah, look I'm sorry man--" 

Eddie waves him off and claps him on the back with a small smile, "eh, it's fine, I needed a little push, wasted a lot of time thinking I didn't deserve everything I wanted," he says softly. 

Eddie snorts suddenly and a playful grin blooms over his face as he brings up his hand to poke Gareths chest, "Besides, I'm your DM remember? I can throw an ancient red dragon at you guys next time and tell the kids it's your fault". 

Eddie cackles as he leaves Gareth in stunned silence to join Steve and Jeff on their way into the hallway. He slips his hand into Steve's back pocket as he joins them. 

Gareth groans quietly, and starts mentally writing out a new character backstory, he has a feeling his current Elf Ranger wasn't going to last that much longer. 

[winter-jay-official]

Knowing the characters I latch onto someone figure out the connection between them

[evanbuckleyrecs]

Title: The Dawn Has Come

Written by: Arithese

Rated: M

Catagories: m/m

Warnings: none

Relationships: Buck/Eddie

Tags: Uncover, Poker Scene, Speculation, kind of?, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing, Smut, First Time, Possessive Eddie Diaz, Smitten Evan Buckley, Lightning jokes, Bottom Evan Buckley, Top Eddie Diaz, Orgasm, Bisexual Evan Buckley, Gay Eddir Diaz, Buck is Eddie's Gay Awakening, Thank you Frank, Choking Kink, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, No beta we die like Buck on a ladder, Episode s06e13: Mixed Feelings, 6x13, Episode s06e13: New Sensations, Poker

Words: 5,540

Summary:

“Eddie what-” Buck starts but he’s interrupted when Eddie grasps his chin, tipping it up to look into his eyes. Buck virtually shrinks down, not out of fear … but something else. Something churning in his stomach and the touch on his chin burns, but not unpleasantly so, it’s comforting yet thrilling.

And then just seconds before the footsteps stop in front of the door, Eddie kisses him.

Or: Buck and Eddie go undercover to prove Bobby's innocence, and they almost get caught.

My notes: I love the wave of undercover fics the speculation for 6x13 gave us, hope there will still be more in the future. This is a perfect example :)

[mangywayway]

I know nothing of Stranger Things but I DO know of Outlast so I just kind of read all your Billy Hargrove posts as Billy Hope posts and I'm dying at "keep your cock on, I'm coming." Yeah, Billy Hope would, too

LMAO anon but honestly?, I agree with you.

I also had an AU like last year where Billy Hargrove was Billy Hope so they aren't that far away from each other ngl

[depressedtheatrekiddo]

You know sometimes a video of an enby person appears in my fy and it's sometimes like that thing people do so their chest is flat like when you don't have a binder and wear a baggy t-shirt and keep arranging because your sports bra is good but not that good?

So

I showed my subconscious (the raccoon man, aka Eddie Munson)

And he said (I swear I heard him say it)

"You don't need to do that you have a shit vertebral column and shit posture"

And man

That's true

But

😭😭

[wineaunt420]

You know that character hyperfixation is bad when you change your tumblr accents to his colour

[jaebeomsbitch]

The Touch of a Prince (E.M.)

Summary: You really really like your boyfriend's hands.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, pure smut, explicit, lots of petnames, p in v, banana cream pies. Not edited like always

GIF credit: @foggystreetlights

A/N: just discovered the person who cosplays eddie and makes a whole bunch of eddie gifsets....

It was Eddie’s day off from the tattoo shop. He’d spent the day cleaning the house and when he was finally done he decided to work out an idea for a song. You’d come home about three hours into him practicing, a pencil in his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration but the one thing you could not get your eyes off of was his hands. The way the flexed with every movement, the way his veins popped when he’d move his hand up. 

“You almost done?” You murmur, eyes scaling your boyfriend. 

“Hmm?” He hums distracted but his eyes turn towards yours catching the tail end of your ogling. His lip immediately curving upward in a smirk. 

“Why? Is my princess in need of her valiant knight’s services?” He says dramatically. 

“Mhm,” you hum quietly nodding your head slowly as you scoot back on the couch. 

“Well if duty calls” he says, placing his guitar back on its stand. His heavy footsteps frantic as he all but practically runs towards you. He jumps on the couch with a thud, the springs creaking in protest. 

“You’re gonna fucking break it” you laugh. The two of you bought this shitty couch after moving in together. Before Eddie had become popular in the local tattoo scene. You could afford a better one but why waste something that is practically new? 

“I was told an urgent matter needed my services” he says pressing kisses to your neck. You can’t help but laugh as you’re pinned under his body. 

“Okay well not that!” You say pushing his face away. 

“Mhm, okay then what does my precious princess in need of?” He says still using that stupid accent. 

Your nose brushes his softly, eyes lashes fluttering against each other. “Do you trust me?” You whisper. A stupid smile adorns his face. 

“Course I trust you. Trust that you won’t bite my dick off  when it’s in your mouth. Did you know the force in a human jaw could do that? Like just cleanly” he rambles, getting distracted like he always does. He makes a chomping motion. 

“Take it right off” he says, getting off of you dragging you with him until you’re sitting with your legs across his lap.

“God you’re so…” you say, making a face at him with face annoyance but there’s a little smile on your face. 

“Hot?” He says with a smirk. 

“No-“ you try to say but he interrupts. 

“Charming? Handsome? God, keep going” he continues.

“Annoying” you say, interrupting him before he keeps going.

“Well luckily most hot people are annoying” he says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You’re insufferable too,” you scrunch your nose at him with a disgusted face. He decides to attack, his fingers pressing at your sides. 

“No! No-“ you try to seat his hands away but you’re laughing uncontrollably as he tickles you. 

“You don’t call me annoying or insufferable when I’ve got my cock in you” he laughs. 

“Please- stop!” You heave for breath seeking reprieve. He lets go of you with a chuckle, going back to his position on the couch as you pant for breath, your stomach aching from forced laughter.

“God, I was trying to ask you a question!” You whine as you sit up. Your hair all fucked up from thrashing around, face flushed. You lean your shoulder on the couch cushion as you look at Eddie.

“My name is actually Eddie,” he says with a smug smile. 

“That’s it! I’ve had it” you grumble a twinge of annoyance creeping into you as you cover his mouth and straddle his lap. 

“Oohh kinky,” he muffles into your palm. 

“Eddie seriously, I’m gonna lose my shit” you warn. He immediately holds his hands up in surrender. You let go of his mouth with a pointed glare, his hands finding their way to your ass. 

“Yes, Princess?” He says with a smile on his lips. 

“No, now I don’t want to. You’re being annoying” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Okay fine- fine I’m sorry” he says cupping your face and peppering your cheeks with kisses until you relax against him.

“What did you need?” He says softly, pushing your hair back out of your face. 

“I wanted to do something but you’re gonna find it weird” you mumble. 

“Weird? Like the time I let you hold my dick when I peed?” He says, one of his eyebrows quirked, clear amusement in his tone.

“Eddie!” You whine. 

“Okay, okay” he laughs. 

“Let me see your hand” you demand.

“You gonna read my palm or something?” he asks putting his right hand in front of you. 

“Something like that” you say, you fold his fingers in and unfold them trying to build the courage to do it. To do what you’d been thinking about doing amongst the other dirty thoughts in your mind. 

“You just wanted to play with my hands?” He laughs softly. You roll your eyes finally just sticking his pointer finger into your mouth. You lick at it, swirling your tongue around it. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, amusement lost from his voice. Instead he sounds out of breath, his free hand squeezes your ass, his eyes trained on your lips wrapped around his digit. 

Groaning, Eddie leans back on the couch, closing his eyes as you continue to suck on his fingers. You can feel the press of his half hard cock as you sit on his lap as he massages your ass with one hand. 

"God, you're driving me crazy," he mutters.

You pull his fingers out of your mouth with a string of saliva dripping down your chin.

“I’m not doing anything” you murmur laying your head on his shoulder. You spread out his fingers licking in between the spaces then take his pointer finger into your mouth sucking on it.

Panting, Eddie watches with difficulty as you lick and suck on his fingers, his cock throbbing in his jeans.

"Do you have any idea how sexy that is?" he asks hoarsely.

You look up at Eddie with your big doe eyes. Cocking your head to the side innocently as you take in his middle finger and start sucking on it. This was your payback for Eddie’s annoying behavior. 

Eddie shakes his head, rolling his hips up to gain friction. 

“Fuck, need to be inside you princess” he pants. You hum around his fingers, sucking on them harder at the proposition. His one hand fumbled with the button on his jeans and yet he perfectly undoes it and unzips the zipper. You look at him with a questioning gaze.

“What? I have a lot of practice” he murmurs, cheeks glowing red. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed. Nonetheless he pulls his jeans and underwear down, his cock bobbing out of the fabric. It lightly slaps against his stomach, smearing precum over his maiden tee. 

He slips his fingers out of your mouth, you can’t help but whine at the loss but he doesn’t give you a second to think. He’s yanking down his boxers that you’re wearing, thumb finding your clit as you kick them off. 

“S-shit” you moan pressing your forehead into his shoulder. 

“You’re so fucking far” he grunts, pulling you closer by the waist. You can’t help but laugh breathlessly but then his thumb is rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves, your thighs trembling. 

“F-fuck okay okay okay” you pant not even knowing why you’re saying okay but you’re hovering over his cock. Eddie holds it at the base aligned with you perfectly to sink into him like an animal in quicksand. 

“Not until I have your fingers” you whisper, swallowing hard. You feel like you’re slowly losing any semblance of humanity, like poison drips into your blood stream. Converting you into a primal cock hungry whore. 

“Always have to draw things out don’t you?” He pants while shaking his head. His thumb leaving your clit, middle finger slipping into your sopping pussy. 

“Mmm f—f” you stutter, the press of  his warm metal rings at your labias having you forgetting your name. You look down, the veins on his inner wrist flexing, the bracelet on his wrist slightly bouncing with the movement, his eyes staring at the way you take his finger then sliding in his ring finger. Stretching you out as you start rocking your hips against his palm. You grip his shoulders harder. 

“G-guh fuck Eddie” you moan, your head dropping in defeat as he curls his fingers. 

“That’s it, ride my fucking hand” he all but growls. If he’s gonna be tortured he might as well enjoy it. 

“Look so fucking pretty like this, Sweetheart. Got you all dumb from just my hand. I see the way you look at ‘em. Think you’re smart, huh? Looking away from me when I look over” he chuckles, his free hand gripping your hip moving you to ride his hand harder with each hard press of his fingers. 

“C-can’t help it” you moan. Heat pools at your core, the familiar burn feels like lava, your face pressed desperately into his shoulder. If it wasn’t for Eddie’s hand on your hips you don’t know if you could move. 

“Aww the poor little princess can’t help it? Can’t help imagining me fucking your pussy just like this? Getting your juices all over my fucking rings?” He grunts with the effort as he feels your muscles start to twitch. 

“That’s it, cum on my fucking fingers. Show me how much you fucking love ‘em” he pants in your ear. 

“S-shit. Oh fuck” you cry out, your nails digging into his skin as you feel the burn deep in your core. Your clit rubbing over his palm, his fingers ramming into your g-spot over and over again, the hard press of his metal rings. It isn’t long maybe a few seconds that you cum all over his hands. 

It drips down his thick fingers, smearing all over his rings, creating a small puddle in his palm. Fuck… you’d never cum this much and all because of his hands. He slides his fingers out of you carefully as you heave for air. 

The heat ghosting over his neck as you relax in his hold. 

He tuts, ”s’only your first own, Princess. Still gotta ride my cock like you’re riding a first prize stallion.”

“S-shit y-yeah just.. just give me a sec would ‘ya?” You gasp. He runs your back softly until you sit up on his thighs pulling back to look at his face. 

“There she is” he grins, using his clean hand to brush stray pieces of hair out of your face. You press a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Thanks for that” you murmur shyly under the intense gaze of your boyfriend. He looked like a man starved for days looking at his first meal. 

“That? Oh sweetheart… you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow when I’m done with you,” he says with a cocky grin. 

“Now, I believe I was told that my Princess likes my hands. Hmm? S’that true sweetheart?” He asks almost condescendingly. You nod meekly not knowing where this is heading. 

He grips your hips pulling you up. Your thighs tremble lightly as you’re back in the same position as before. 

“Think you can take it baby? Have a surprise for you, if you’re a good girl” he says, rubbing his thumb softly over your hipbone. 

“Yeah- Yes I can,” you nod. You shift closer, your knees pressing into the sides of his hips as you slowly sink down into him. 

“Oh- fuck” you whine, your pussy still sensitive from your orgasm. Your walls pulse around him, already slick with your cum, coating his cock in it. He tilts your head up to look at him. 

“Open that pretty mouth of yours Princess,” he murmur, his stomach straining not to fuck you hard like he wants. He knows you need him to be gentle right now. You oblige opening up your plump lips with uncertainty. 

He slides his cum covered fingers into your mouth forcing you to taste yourself. His other hand finding your hip slowly pulling you towards him in a gentle roll of your hips. You moan around his fingers for a second time. 

Your tongue laps up your cum gathering it on the tip as you start moving your hips on your own. Instead of bouncing you choose to swivel your hips, keeping a figure eight. 

This causes Eddie’s cock to stay buried deep inside of you, the meeting point of the two rings forcing his cock to press into your g-spot. You curl your toes, gasping around his wrinkled fingers. Fuck, you’re so sensitive. Eddie could sneeze and you’d cum again. Nonetheless you flex your stomach ignoring the way your pussy flutters around him. 

Like a deep primal urge in you knows, knows that you need your fill. 

“Fuck, that’s it” he pants, his desperation growing. He slides his fingers out of your mouth, the skull ring staying behind, you swirl it around your tongue cleaning it and bring it forward to show him just as he grabs your hips. 

“Jesus fucking Christ you’re gonna fucking kill me” he gasps out, his big hands forcing you to bounce on his cock. 

It’s like you lose all inhibitions as you feel the slam of his cock curving into you. 

“Oh- God. Fuck- fuck” you moan loudly. It gets harder and harder to stave off your orgasm as he presses his back into the couch pistoning upwards. 

“S-shit you’re gonna fucking break me” you gasp. Your stomach flexes painfully, your clit rubbing into the thatch of curly hair above his cock ever time he slams you down into him. You pull at the couch cushions behind his head desperately. 

“I- I can’t Eds” you cry, every fibre of your body is telling you to let go. Eddie feels the familiar tug at his balls, a shiver running up his spine. 

“Look at me,” he grunts. 

You try and strengthen your neck but all you can manage is to press your forehead into his. 

“You’re mine, always fucking remember that” he says fiercely. 

“I thought I was the princess” you laugh breathlessly.

“And I’m your fucking prince” he moan. 

You whine “don’t wanna cum yet.” You press up on your knees slamming down harder onto his cock. The only thing preventing you from falling is Eddie’s hands on your hips and your grip on his shoulders

“Love your cock to much wanna stay like this forever” you moan.

Laughing, Eddie pulls you closer, his lips finding yours. His tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting your cum on your tongue. 

"I love you," he whispers against your lips. "I'll never get tired of being inside you.”

“Fuck- come on princess, cum for me” he encourages. 

“No no no no no” you whine but the heat keeps pooling and shocks travel up your spine as you get closer and closer.

Hearing your desperate pleas, Eddie knows you're on the edge. He wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you even closer as he thrusts into you with abandon.

"That's it," he praises. "Just let it happen."

“No Eddie,“ you whine but your pussy still clenching around him, your stomach tightening with effort as you try to stave off your pleasure.

“Fuuuck” you gasp your neck flexing as you grit your teeth.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it” he grunts rubbing right circles on your clit. Your velvet walls clench harder around him, his cock making you completely dumb. 

You let go involuntarily, everything all too much. You cum hard trembling above him, collapsing into his chest. 

“Fuck-beautiful. So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he grunts. 

“Cum inside me,” you pant out. 

“What?” His eyebrows practically fly to his hairline. 

“Cum inside me” you say more urgently, shocks running up your spine. 

“Y- fuck you can’t say shit like that to me” his eyes roll back and his lips part. He cums inside you with a loud groan. 

You sigh as you get comfortable on his lap. His cum and cock still buried deep inside you. You press a soft kiss to the side of his head

“My pretty boy” you whisper. 

[peggingeddiediaz]

One of my biggest problems with buddie as a fandom/ship. It's so annoyingly transparent how Eddie as a character only exists for stereotypes they find hot in the one that tops in the m/m ship...

Buck is always woobified/infantilized, barely a character as well but in this case it's to make it easier to self insert. But Eddie? Eddie gets to be angry, violent, so fluent in spanish he defaults to it every two words, who is so knowledgeable about all things sex he practically ghost wrote 50 shades of Grey, jealous, possessive.

The latin lover trope is not a character. Might as well write OCs at that point.

'and honestly i can talk at great length about how fandom's obsession with eddie being super jealous and possessive feels very motivated by racial stereotypes but i'll stop now lol'

no please don't stop i'd like to hear more. (also i enjoy jealous buck wayy more than jealous eddie so i'm wondering if that's why)

i mean, this anon articulated it really well. and...i think the whole "eddie being extremely possessive" thing comes from where the rest of the very popular fanon interpretations of his character come from. buck—the white guy—is basically sunshine personified, he makes everyone around him happy, chris likes him more than his own dad, bobby and athena are basically his parents, he's friendly with everyone and has people hitting on him or thirsting over him all the time, he speaks in perfect therapy-speak all the time...

...and meanwhile, eddie is this brooding, anti-social loner who only has friends because buck, the extrovert, 'adopted eddie into his friend circle', who doesn't know how to regulate his emotions, he's basically a deadbeat dad who needs buck to pick up after him all the time, he gets crazy possessive and jealous, he's super rude and disrespectful to all of buck's girlfriends (whereas buck is a perfect angel saint who is always so respectful and supportive of eddie's love life)....

see where i'm getting at? like, it's definitely a Problem, the way eddie gets vilified like this for traits he doesn't even have, all because fandom has projected all these stereotypes conveniently onto the brown man. like, this isn't even an exaggeration. whether it's on ao3 or right here on tumblr, this type of characterization is super prevalent and...it's very telling, to say the least. 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ and i was just bracing myself for more of this after 7x03, so that new synopsis has come of something of a breather, lol.

[ghwosty]

one of those kpop stan edits you see randomly attached to twitter replies but for seattle grunge bands

[starlightsearches]

All Yours

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."

@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃

Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.

His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.

So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.

Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.

"Everything okay?"

He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.

"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"

The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.

"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"

You don't even get a chance to take a guess.

"It's not about Steve."

Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.

His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.

"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”

The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.

He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.

"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.

"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."

You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.

It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.

Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.

Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.

However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.

Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.

Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.

"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.

Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.

It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.

Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.

You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.

"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."

Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.

"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."

His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.

“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."

Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.

"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.

“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.

He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.

“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”

You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.

“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.

“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.

“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.

Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.

"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.

"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.

"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.

He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.

"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.

He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.

It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.

"Eddie."

There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.

And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.

His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.

You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.

You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.

The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.

That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.

"Hey—that's gonna bruise."

You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.

"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."

It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.

"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.

It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.

"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.

You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.

"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."

You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.

"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.

"Promise?" he asks.

The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.

Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.

He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.

It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.

"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."

Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.

Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.

It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.

Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.

That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.

Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.

Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.

"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"