#rocker!eddie munson

[decodedlvr]

GODDDDDD YALL PLEASE JUST; close your eyes and listen to this. You WILL imagine you w/obsessed in love or rocker Eddie ### with this song… just all hot, sweaty and shi-It’s IMPOSSIBLE to not. goddamn man… this song I grew up with but now 😩😩 clean version says ‘when you’re rollin round with me, in between the sheets’ like that’s just as hot but the dirty one—

Reblogs appreciated:>

[blogfullofemos]

My Look Precedes Me

Based from this picture:

Synopsis: You're sitting on Eddie's bed with nothing but homework dispersed around you. And well... Baby has been in the corner... FOR FAR TOO LONG!!!

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: explicit words and a lot of angst. Italics is for flashbacks. I also believe that Eddie is very anxiety ridden, like moi. So yeah. Do what you will with that lol. Also has been proofread multiple times. (I wanna give you the best of the best okay 🥲)

Pairing: Eddie Munson + female reader

Lastly thank you so so so so so much for the shockingly amazing amount of feedback I received on my last 2 Eddie Munson blurbs. Thank you for the hearts, reblogs, and follows. Also I love the commentary cuz yes this man indeed drives me feral. But at times, he's just like me. 😭 Enjoy and let me know how you feel darling.

Eddie’s antsy. Eddie’s pissed. Better yet, if he has to deal with this any longer!! Eddie’s going to bring the upside down, downside up!! Or however the fuck they would reverse it. Sitting on a bean bag at the corner of his room, Eddie blatantly stares at you with furrowed brows. Wearing nothing but his favorite, black-ripped skinny jeans, his right leg bounces rapidly. His guitar resting still from the action as his hands fidgets all around it. Rolling his brown eyes, he presses his hand against his bottom lip to bite at the skin. Trying his best to distract himself from his fuming impatience. 

     For 2 and a half weeks, you’ve been…. Distant. And with no reason. The first week you started to make conversations between you two short, didn’t acknowledge when he wanted to make you the priority, and lastly you didn’t answer his phone calls. At all. You’re his girlfriend, right? Obsessively he checked if you still sported his guitar pick necklace. His heart finding some semblance of solace, as he watched your habit of twirling the pick between your fingers when talking to others, never stopped. 

“Hey… Uh-umm are we o-okay?” he asks shakily. With his hands in his pockets, he picks at the skin on his fingers. Clammy, heart burning, and thoughts racing for the worst; he kept his focus trained on the gravel crunch of his shoes. Never wanting you to see the fear anticipating to implode if his assumptions rang true. “You’re too in your head, Eds.” you giggle softly. Trying to break the unnerving silence, you scatter tiny rocks with a kick but nothing changes. You give it a few more steps. “Eddie?” you say, looking beside you with worry. Taken aback, you whip your head to look behind you. With a 4ft distance, Eddie stood still. His curls lightly drift with the wind as his head remains drooped. ‘Then why didn’t you notice I stopped? You must be in your head too.’ he thinks as a sniffle betrays him. In an instant, he hears you drop the scholarly books you held close to you and run towards him. “Eddie, baby..”, “Eds you’ve done nothing wrong..”, “Baby its me, not you okay.” you rush out. And with perfect deflection, you kissed him deeply.

      The 2nd week was pure Hell. You made it your mission to not cross paths anytime during class hours, and when it came to lunch. You would just sit next to him, hold his hand, and if he was lucky you would laugh at a joke he made. Eye contact was the least of your worries.

“Sooo what’s happening here?” Steve abruptly asks as he dips his french fry into ketchup. Sitting across from you at the table, Steve quirks his brow at you as your focus snaps to him. Successfully cutting your convo with Robin down completely.  “What do you mean?” you laugh off.

“Well Lisa needs me.” Robin announces, quickly freeing herself from the table. Your eyebrow raises at her sudden departure, but she just smiles and waves before scurrying to whatever table Lisa is at. Who even is Lisa? You don’t realize Eddie profusely shaking his head at Steve, before smacking his hand on his face as Steve clears his throat. “You and Eddie.” you look at Eddie with confusion. With his hand covering his mouth and nose flared, he just stares at Steve. “Something’s off.” Steve finishes, biting his ketchup covered french fry. Eddie squeezes your intertwined hand with his, needing to break your inquisitive eyes from his teetering restraint. Even if it was just for a moment. Steve chuckles, “I mean…” he takes another bite to a fry “Why are you-?”

“Steve. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Eddie warns, trying his best to keep his hands at where they were.

“No. Munson. It’s… “ Steve slowly pushes the styrofoam plate aside, contemplating his next words wisely. Your eyes searched for what was to come out of Steve's mouth, but he sighs. “You are no Madonna.” Steve points at you, “And YOU!!” he points at Eddie “Are no Sean Penn!!”. In seconds your jaw drops, milk splatters onto Steve as Eddie tosses its small carton at his head, and Steve is now over the table grappling Eddie.

    The taste of iron seeps within his mouth as he recollects himself from his triggering memories. Slapping his hands on each side of his bean bag chair, he shoots himself off of it. Quickly catching his guitar from falling, he swiftly places its strap on his shoulder. “I wrote a song for you.” he says heated, snatching the sheet you were filling out and crumbling it. 

“EDS!!” you yell out in shock, trying to snatch the balled-up paper from him but he puts it in his mouth. Before you could even say anything, he scratches his pick against his guitar strings. The scratchy sounds reverberating throughout his room loudly, since he always has his amp on max. Chewing the paper, he strums a quick solo, spitting the saliva-soaked blob at you. Disgusted you watch him headbang to a heavy riff, “WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME ALONG, SO FUCKING HIGH STRUNG, ANOTHER DAY OF THIS AND WE’LL BE DONE!!” he bursts out, strumming his guitar strings like he was punching it. 

    Your heart sank as he continues the angry riff, his brown eyes twitching as tears slowly begin to creep their way out. “LOVE YOU BUT IT JUST SEEMS TO BE FUN, YEAH EDDIE, THAT’S A GOOD ONE!! DOES SHE LOVE YOU, DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS!!” he continues. The vein in his neck protrudes from how loud he was screaming. You nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes welling up, but Eddie didn’t care to stop. Because when did you ever 'cared' to stop? Your intense stare never once faltering as he stalks towards your laid-back body. “CUZ IF SHE WANTS TO UP AND R-.” his voice cracks as his eyes winces, heavy tears running down his cheeks. His nose flares as he struggles to breathe, his hands not keeping up the harsh tempo. Opening his mouth, you scream “MY PARENTS ARE PLANNING TO SEND ME AWAY!!”.

“What?” Steve says, thrown back and silencing his guitar strings eerie screeching. Finally, you explain your past actions followed by a full blown breakdown. Believing you were invincible, your father always seemed to catch you in an act. And this one labelled you his grandest mistake. During a rage fit, “NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE WITH A DRUGGED-OUT LOSER!!” you repeated to Eddie. Causing Eddie to turn away from you, walk a few steps away, and plop on the end of his bed. Your father gave you an ultimatum. If you chose Eddie, he would send you away to live with your great grandmother. Well more like take care of your prudish great-grandmother. But if you chose different, then life goes as usual. And the only way he knew you weren't seeing Eddie, is if you focused on getting your grades up. Eddie looks up to his ceiling, bemused on how oblivious he was in all of this. The puzzle finally putting itself together.

     “BUT- but I choose you Eddie.” you cry, quickly placing your hand on top of his. Eddie stared at the walls while you vented out your frustration, silently crying. He hates your dad. But he understood his smothering defense. If they were to reverse roles, he would've done the same. But God he felt so wrong for placing all of his pent-up rage towards you. It wasn’t you who was pulling away, it was your family prying you off of him. Broken, he finally looks at you with soaked lashes, “A drugged-out loser huh.” he sadly repeats your father’s remark. You pout. Bringing him close, you rest his head on your chest. The strong sound of your heart beat causing him to sob.

As it was the first time he ever heard a precious thing give texture to his ostracized existence.

[strangerxperv]

More on Rocker Eddie

Background for his phone: he definitely has a picture of you looking up at him through your lashes. Mouth agape and tongue presented to him. Spit pools on your pretty appendage with platters of cum. Eddie's spend is on your swollen lips and slipping down your cheek to your throat. It doesn't show your tits or bare lower but it reminds Eddie of that moment.

He's been caught staring at his background with a hard dick, he's not sorry. His only regret is not being able to show you when he coats his screen with cum. This man has actually thought about getting a second phone just to show you. He's hopeless and you're not sorry for loving him.

He set your background as himself holding his guitar neatly placed to cover his nudity. He looks like an 80s' cover photo from your wet dreams. Sitting on his amp with legs spread obscenely wide. And you have the only photo.

[abominable-space-they]

Another Au centered around music & punk Steve(sorta) bc of Steddie twt talking abt switching it up to celebrity Steve & just some guy Eddie.

I do love a good trope reversal

Underground Metal Eddie x (pop)punk Steve

Eddie working at a guitar shop that mostly catered to metal & hard rock musicians with a preference for a certain crunchy sound.

Since he was into a very specific niche of gay power & thrash metal, Eddie didn't know Steve was a pop punk star when they meet

He knew who Stevie Dynamite was, of course he did, everyone did. He knew that the guy debuted at 15, was supposed to be some musical genius who could play any instrument.

Eddie remembered the early songs because they were so personal, haunting little folk proto punk songs w/ a glam pop edge about identity, isolation, & loneliness. They weren't his thing but they were better then the usual radio fare.

Three years later after a series of salacious magazine spreads, notoriously explosive deals with several different make-up and high end hair care lines, more scandals then you could count, public partying, public meltdowns, cancelled shows, article after article abt the King of Pop Rock losing his touch, a mediocre album full of bubble gum party till you drop songs, and open speculation abt the nature of his relationship with indie pop darling Birdie (but Eddie knows that's not what ppl think it is. Her music is wall to wall barely subtle sapphic yearning, if there's one thing he knows it's gay subtext)

The rumors got louder & more dramatic until, five years after he rocketed to superstardom Stevie Dynamite publicly sued his label & parents for control of his image & brand.

He won

Then he quietly disappeared.

Thus was the end of the bigger then life legend of Stevie Dynamite

So when Steve Harrington walked into the guitar store on some lazy Monday afternoon while Eddie was sitting behind the counter working on a song in his downtime. He had no idea who Steve was.

When the unknown hot guy in a Violent Femmes hoodie & a plain black beanie struck up a conversation about Eddie's lyrics he thought Steve was just another life long grind musician wanting to talk shop

When the guy introduced himself as Steve, Eddie didn't think anything in particular about it

When Steve seemed to be flirting a little Eddie chalked it up to the guy wanting a discount on whatever he was in to buy.

When he dragged Stevie Dynamite viscously for being an absolute fake from top to bottom, when one of his newer songs came on the shop radio, Eddie laughed and agreed.

When Steve asked Eddie for help choosing a guitar with a very particular pensive but angry victorious sound he was happy to help (Steve paid full price & if he was annoyed he didn't show it)

When the guy came in again next monday for a new amp, and the Monday after that for new strings Eddie was confused but happy to see him

When Steve came in the Monday after that asking for help with the writing of a song, a service he would be happy to pay for, Eddie said yes against his better judgement. He knew he was well and truly fucked by the happy burbling in his stomach at the thought of creating music with this incredibly hot man.

When they spent six months of Mondays holed up in the break room working on lyrics, Eddie tried not to examine what it meant.

And when Steve abruptly didn't come by one Monday, Eddie had no idea what the hell happened but he was disappointed.

When one Monday no show, became two, then three, Eddie decided he must've been ghosted, he picked his embarrassingly broken heart up off the floor and kept going, resigned to never knowing what happened with Steve.

In fact Eddie had no idea that Steve Harrington was Stevie Dynamite until the first royalty check came in with a $ number so high, Eddie thought he probably died without realizing it. He'd never even dreamed of holding that much money in his hand at one time.

The check was from Dynamite Records?!?!?! Stevie Dynamite's personal label?!?!

Through a haze Eddie remembered that a a few weeks ago Stevie Dynamite had released his first post corporate divorce album to a tidal wave of media fanfare and critical acclaim. Everyone who had an opinion about music swore the real Stevie Dynamite was back on top again. Eddie barely noticed it, he'd been to busy not caring that Steve ghosted him to pay attention to yet another meaningless corporate shill telling him to dance all night

He called the corporate number on the check

"Dynamite Records, Jonathan Byers speaking, how may I help you?"

"uhh yeah man, I think there's been some sort of mix up. I uhh-, Look my name is Eddie Munson & as much as I would love to keep this check. It couldn't possibly be for me and I really don't want to get sent to prison for check fraud so maybe someone should come and get it or something."

The man, on the either end of the line immediately relaxed into a more casual manner.

"Eddie hey man, I've heard so much about you. It's definitely not a mistake, he wanted you to have credit since you guys wrote the songs together."

"uhh not to seem totally clueless or whatever Mr Byers, but umm He who?"

"Jonathan is actually totally fine, we're all family here right? Stevie Dynamite of course"

"Ok, but how in the world does Stevie Dynamite know me & why would he want me to get writing royalties on his new songs?"

"... Fuck...He still hasn't told you has he?"

"told me what?"

Jonathan sighed a kindly exasperated sigh on the other end of the line.

"Eddie have you looked at the new Stevie Dynamite album?"

"No-, I uhh no offense or anything it's just glam rock pop punk isn't really my thing."

"it's fine, it's not mine either-, hmm well are you at work? No of course you are that's where we sent the check. He didn't know your home address. You know, I should've known he didn't tell you now that I think about it. Why don't you go take a peek, pay specifical attention to the dedication. I'll wait here."

Eddie heard some rustling as Jonathan leaned back, talking to someone else apparently.

"Argyle, babe, you wouldn't believe this. He still hasn't told Eddie."

Even further away he heard a good natured huff of laughter.

"Bro? No shit. Man... Babe, your ex is so beautifully weird. I wish I found out a pop star was in love with me w/ a fat check and an album full of love songs. Stevie boy has style at least... wanna hit this?"

What the hell was that all about? If they were getting high he might as well just go look at the album right? Right. No time like the present.

Eddie didn't know why he was so nervous

The album cover wasn't anything remarkable, tattoo flash art of a nail bat, a weird flower full of serrated teeth, and a guitar. It was called "Stevie Dynamite: Love, Death, and a Baseball Bat Named Baby"

Inside there was a lot of concept photography, Stevie Dynamite after a show, make-up smeared, staring into a mirror with empty eyes. Each page of lyrics had a new picture of Stevie with some of the glamorous accoutrements removed staring at himself in the mirror, first he took off his shiny rock and roll lace top, then he replaced his leather pants with sweats, the next he had on an old beat up violent femmes hoodie, lastly he took off all the flashy metallic glam rock make up.

The last picture was just Stevie Dynamite, No, Steve Harrington, his Steve Harrington fresh faced, staring into the camera with a note superimposed, written in loopy feminine handwriting, the dedication.

'To Eddie who's inspired me since the day I met him, who never gave a damn about Stevie Dynamite'a fame or reputation, who was kind to me because that's just who he is.

To Eddie who helped me find my love of music again, reminded me why I was here in the first place, and helped me write the most sincere and meaningful songs I ever have.

To the Eddie I was so afraid of losing to the gossip machine I couldn't quite tell the truth.

All those dumb love songs that you were always teasing me about writing were for you Eddie. No matter what, you deserve to know that. I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me.

I love you,

Stevie Dynamite

(but you can still call me Steve if you want to)'

Eddie felt faint again. He picked the phone back up

"What the fuck Jonathan?"

"Yeah, man what the fuck. But that's our boy Stevie, passionate, loyal to death and back, more than a little impulsive, and terrified of his feelings. Once he decides he loves you, he's impossible to shake. I'm so sorry he sprang this on you like this man, but Argyle's almost done getting him ready. I'll send him your way when we're done ok?"

Eddie wasn't sure what he was agreeing to but he still agreed.

20 minutes later a leather clad pop rock god, slouched in, looked around from behind his dark sunglasses with disinterested affected distance, pushed those sunglasses up onto his head and magically transmogrified into Steve Harrington, the guy he'd been pining over for a month. They both sat in silence, each afraid to go first. Finally Steve cleared his throat and broke the oppressive quiet

"I'm sorry I stopped coming by, I was so afraid that once you knew you'd only see Stevie, not me anymore. I couldn't bear losing another person I loved to him. God he sucks."

"But... you're Stevie Dynamite right? I haven't hallucinated all this, right?

"No no, you definitely didn't. I mean, yeah technically I'm him, but he's still the worst. I kinda hate him"

"uhhh...."

"I know it's weird"

"No I get it-, I think,-, trapped in reputations of our own making and all-, but uhhh... You love me?"

"Yeah Eddie of course! How could I do anything else but love you? Didn't you listen to the album?"

"uhh-, well-, No? Glam Rock Pop Punk just isn't my thing"

To Eddie's surprise, Steve broke out in a radiant smile.

"Of course you didn't, what was I thinking? All that worry for nothing. I'm so-... Hey I'm about to go play a private vip show to celebrate the album's success, you want to come? I promise I'll explain everything-, No pressure though!"

Eddie still wasn't sure exactly what he was agreeing to, but couldn't even feel to bad about it when Steve blushed, radiant, bigger then life, like a rock god, as he pulled Eddie out the door.

Right then and there Eddie made a pact with himself to keep saying yes to Steve as long as Steve bothered to ask. He was to precious not to.

[n33dlew0rk]

Bad Boy Boogie

I’m thinking about how in The Dirt they depicted Vince Neil as someone who was not into the alternative scene as much as Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee were.

And I'm thinking about Steve being recruited in some glam rock band in a similar way after he’s been scraping the barrel for a few years because his poor excuse of a father kicked him out and cut him off for being queer:

He’s working dive bars, strip clubs, lame pool parties, whatever gets some food, smokes and the occasional joint on his table. He liked to sing when he was younger, but it was never something he thought would be one of his main income sources in his twenties. So it's like you know whatever, as long as it keeps him alive and kicking.

He’s not very social these days, too busy surviving the late 80’s. But someone from high school still remembers him from his King Steve days, knows what happened because of the typical small town talks + sees him kind of around the scene sometimes, between Indianapolis and Chicago, hears him sing lame slow ballads and chart stuff.

So after some laughs (he does not take the thing seriously at first) and some uncertainty (money is not guaranteed ofc), he gets recruited and slowly starts to fully embody this glam rock sexy kind of androgynous and ambiguously sensual charismatic frontman role.

They do good. Like really good. Papers talk about them, mothers pray clutching their pearls, kids go nuts. Their gigs are sweat, fishnets, smeared make-up, tall boots, short skirts, tight pants.

---

Now cut to Eddie and Corroded Coffin, still a small town band, still dreaming big. But someone in their extended friend circle, probably someone a little bit less socially awkward than them, knows someone in Indi, who knows someone in Chicago, who finally hooks them up to open for a bigger band on a small state tour. Only it's Steve's band.

Eddie is fuming.

Not only did a fucking jock got to get bigger in music faster than him, he also did it in a genre that was not popular among metalheads. Even Metallica had feuds with Mötley Crüe, after all. You know that thin veil of elitism that makes metalheads a real pain in the ass despite how intensely GAY most of Judas Priest’s lyrics are.

By the way, back to Eddie.

Fuming.

He doesn't wanna go. Pleads the guys to please have some integrity, for fuck’s sake. Tries to convince the owners of The Hideout to make them play more nights.

But when money is thrown into it, like actual money, money like a month’s worth of day jobs, he can’t really say no to the proposition.

So they go.

Eddie refuses to even listen to the other band's demos, determined to spend the entire tour playing his own set and then getting blackout drunk in the back of the van for the remainder of the night.

He manages to do just that for the first two nights, until he gets cut off from the free alcohol because the bar owner is a sad greedy bastard.

And since spending a whole evening sober inside a van is not nearly as fun as he thought, he goes back inside, searching for his bandmates, barely managing to move through waves of sweaty half naked people and groupies.

A disappointed growl leaves his throat as the lights go down while he’s still in the middle of the pit. Scorned and absolutely annoyed to the core, he turns towards the stage, fully prepared to boo his way to the side of the room.

So you can imagine how totally and utterly shocked he is when Steve fucking Harrington appears: red cowboy boots under the tightest leather pants ever created by humankind, held together by flimsy flimsy strings on the sides. A brutally ripped white tank top (more like a sad reminder of it) under a goddamned leather harness with spikes and chains, all of this on top of his hairy, toned (is that glitter??) chest. Black make-up beautifully ruined under his rich brown eyes, a shadow of red lipstick on his lips. A black bandana tied around his forehead like a crown over his messy mullet (still rich in volume, that’s a magic trick the king still brings along for the journey).

Eddie feels like a lost greek sailor hearing the sirens for the first time.

Mouth: dry.

Hands: sweaty.

Jeans: dangerously tight.

The place feels like a fucking furnace and he cannot, for the love of all things unholy, tear his gaze away from Steve’s body, his face, the way he cups the microphone, how he grinds on the mic stand, how he falls onto his knees during guitar solos panting in front of his guitarist.

Lastly, I'm thinking about when the show is over and a phantom trace of Eddie’s rationality tries to persuade him that Steve will turn back into his jock self, preppy clothes and all, like a rock'n'roll Cinderella; but instead Steve smiles big to the crowd, tears the bandana from his head, wipes away some of the sweat from his neck and then stuffs the very same black bandana right into his right back pocket.

Gareth and Jeff literally have to drag poor Eddie out of the venue because his knees are so wobbly they stopped working indefinitely.

[sofiiel]

Meanwhile, in some alternate universe, the collaboration/duet of the century is going on. Eddie is proudly showing off Sweetheart's conjoined twins. He swears Steve's guitar is the father.

[userparamore]

do you guys have like lost media but it’s just lost in your memories? like you heard a song or watched a movie and remember only a glimpse of it but not what it’s called?

[renn-pumkin-head]

It's pissing me off that these (I'm going to use the word normal for referance) normal people love Wednesdays addams and eddie munson because "Oh look how cool and quirky they are" "my rocker boy friend, my weird goth GF"

When me and my friends have had the shit bullied out of us for being goth, punk or differant

As an autistic person I understand and relate to not being able to fully express my feelings or understand social cues.

How come it's cute or hot that Wednesday can do that but it's weird or stupid on autistic people

How come people see that bullying is bad in TV shows when they do the exact same thing to people like that in real life

Not to gate keep these characters but come the fuck on

Also, as soon as "weirdos or freeks" irl like these characters they get teased for it. Or are told they are following an old trend.

It's awesome that people who like these characters do sometimes participate in the subcultures.

But these characters, especially goth girls get objectified and onlt seen quirky pretty things to show off

Like the character but respect the inspiration and subculture.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Devour me and my soul if you’re hungry

Author: @bibiche007

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 5/5

Description:

At the end of the day, Chrissy headed to "her office," rereading the note in her hands.

"Can I see you? 5:30 in the woods? E.M."

And of course she hoped it was the basketball-playing E.M., the one who had occupied all her mind today, and not Elvis Mackensy, a prepubescent junior full of acne pimples. Well, she could hope, but even if it was him, he wouldn't want anything more than a joint to relax, for the after-game party. Worse, maybe it was even his cheerleader girlfriend, Jayne Carver, who was sending him on her errand (Chrissy's sure she'd rather die than talk to the freak queen).

She can't stop her smile when she sees him sitting on the bench with a sense of excitement.

- You know I don't sell steroids, right?" she said wryly.

He flashed her a smile showing his teeth, and it's fucking sexy.

- I have no doubt about my performance, Cunningham. He replied with a playful look in his eyes.

Damn, this boy is going to be the death of her. She already feels like she's having a heart attack. Or an aneurysm.

Tags: Alternate Universe- no vecna, role reversal au, Jock!Eddie, Rocker!Chrissy, soft boy Eddie, Eddie needs a hug, Chrissy is a sweetie, smut, fluff, it's so SPICY, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: completed

[emeraldzephyr]

Eddie Munson and Dave Grohl would have been best friends and you can't convince me otherwise.

[spicysix]

16. picture with santa | eddie munson X reader

Your clothes, eyes, lips were all black. Your hair had an unnerving amount of hairspray to keep it in place - a puffed out hairstyle, Eddie called it "the pissed-off cat look".

Eddie wasn't a goth like you, but the chains on his belt and the patches in his leather jacket were equally unfriendly to the suburban mommies and their preppy kids behind you in line.

But as you sat on Santa's left knee and Eddie on the right, you had huge smiles. The preppy kids and the photographer laughed - not mockingly, enjoying it.

The picture was kept inside your wallet.

[blogfullofemos]

That's NOT Music

*Ok so this is just a little headcannon event I believe would happen between Eddie and reader* Rated E for everyone.

Okay so hear me out... You and Eddie become the best of friends because "Your art is like SSSOOO out there and its scary you don't even dooo drugs man... Like not even a lick off a Mary-Wanna leaf." as Eddie so educatedly states. But when it comes to music.... Oh when it comes to music.

See Eddie is into Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, ANYTHING THAT CONSISTS OF BANSHEE WAILS FROM A GUITAR'S MOUTH!! But you.... YOU were into 'glam-rock'.

"A putrid stain resting on a dragon's shithole that when it farts. It sounds like Steven Tyler's iconic wail." as Eddie once again, states.

"Have you even listened to it? Like sit and fully give it a chance?" you push at him. Eddie stares at you with a dimpled smile but the light in his eyes, dim. Yeah he checked out before you even started. "EDDIE!!" you yell at him, highly annoyed by his blatant stubbornness.

"Aerosmith is sooo not-."

"Okay but have you heard of Bon Jovi?" you cut him off before he went on another 'fuck glam-rock' tangent. Eddie leans back and places his fingers on his chin, his music rolodex spinning as he scrambles for some semblance of a.... Bonjo? Banjo?

~~~

"THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL MUSIC?!!" Eddie yells, as he rips the earbud out of his left ear. Making the other pop out of your right ear, landing hard onto the kitchen counter and next to your CD player. "EDS!!" you exclaim, swatting his shoulder even harder.

"OUCHIE!!! Never would've guessed you were heavy-handed." he says rubbing the area you hit and leaning away from you. You check the earbuds, as they are sooo easy to break, and yup. The right one (the one Eddie had on) is barely audible. "This band is so mediocre. Simple chords, simple song-writing, and-." his voice dies off as you slowly look at him with dagger eyes. His brain quickly rendering his mistake. BUT!! He couldn't control it. It was just sooo. Natural. He bites his index finger as he gives puppy eyes "Whoops." he winces.

~~~

So now, Steve and Eddie go for a night drive in Steve's beat-up convertible. The radio lowly playing whatevers popular to the masses, as they both share a doobie. Eddie listening to Steve deciphering the female mind out loud when a hint of a guitar sound peeks through. "HOLD ON!!" Steve yells, turning the volume up so the guitar riff plays stronger.

Eddie knew, from the beating you gave him afterwords, that this was Bon Jovi. Steve taps onto the steering wheel "ITS ALL THE SAME, ONLY THE NAMES WILL CHANGE!!" Steve sings along as Eddie whips his head to the betrayal he was hearing.

"EVERYDAY IT SEEMS WE'R-!!" Steve continues giving little looks and egging Eddie to sing along.

"No.. No FUCKING way man."

"WHERE THE FACES ARE SO COLD!!"

"NO STEVE!! THIS IS HOW THEY GET YOU, THEY TRY WITH THESE-!!"

"COME ON HELLFIRE I NEED A BACK UP!! I'M A COWBOY!!"

Eddie bites his bottom lip because FUCK!! Not like this... Please to the Iron Maiden artwork Gods.. Not... Like... "DEAD OR ALIVEEE!!" they both belt.

"FUCK YEAH MAN!!" Steve exclaims, stepping on the gas pedal as Eddie hides his face in utter shame.

Look at what you've done. Now he's definitely going to force you to listen to Metallica.

[rlpersephone3259]

This is a thing. This is literally how I hang on to my boyfriend, who is an elder punk and still wears some of his chains. When we’re anywhere, I just hold on to his chain. I guess it’s my version of holding his hand!

steve holding onto eddies wallet chain bc it's the closest they can get in hawkins to holding hands and steve thinks it's kinda funny bc when eddie gets a little too excited he just tugs him back by the chain like a dog pulling at his leash and eddie doesn't complain about the terrible comparison bc it makes him feel tethered

[taintandviolent]

Turbo Lover ; Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: After getting fed up with Jason Carver and his gross attitude, reader decides to take him up on a dare. That dare, is kissing Eddie Munson on the mouth. Something she's been longing to do since she arrived in Hawkins.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.5K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), fingering, handjobs.

a/n: started writing this back in *checks watch* july of 2022....... ahem. finished writing this to turbo lover by judas priest, if you wanna listen! just felt like an eddie song to me, don't ask for clarification. this could possibly be a multi-parter, haven't decided yet. my first (technically) eddie fic...... do not come for my throat, thanks. not beta-read, yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“Oh, choke on it, Jason.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Cowan for a replacement lab partner.”

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to fling your forkful of corn at him. “Hah! Please do. I’d rather stick my tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat and spend the weekend with mono than spend another blissful second trying to watch you figure out anatomy, dipshit.”

“Go do it then. I dare you.” Jason barks, nostrils flaring. He was going to call your bluff. There was no way that you were going to go over to that weird satanist’s table. Being more of a rocker, you weren’t posh and cute like Chrissy was, but you still had boundaries. And a good head on your shoulders. He knew you did. He hoped you did.

“Fine,” you snap, slamming both palms onto the table. “I hope you fail your science project.” Jason’s confident expression falls. Your rings scrape against the plastic as you push yourself up. With more determination than you’d had the entire semester, you swing both your legs over the bench and head for Eddie’s table, navigating around the other tables. The rest of his little dungeon buddies are already gawking at you as they’d been paying attention to the shouting. Confidently, you take a running leap up onto the table, and stomp your way down its length like a soldier marching towards enemy fire. The target, Eddie Munson, was staring at you with wide eyes and brows lifted.

“Outta my way.” The pointed tip of your boot sends an empty lunch tray flying off the table and clattering onto the floor.

“Hey, Munson!” You drop down onto your haunches, and now, eye-level with him, grab his face and pull it towards you, crushing your lips against his. The roll he’s holding drops from his grasp, falling lifelessly onto his tray. As soon as his plush lips press into yours, giving way to your tugging, your shoulders relax, melting into the kiss. You had been waiting for an excuse to get his attention since you’d sat down in your first class at Hawkins High, daydreaming about talking to him. You’d spent many a class period staring at Eddie’s lips, so you expected the kiss would be enjoyable… but not like this.

At first, both of your lips were closed, smushed together in the hurriedness of the moment, but when you exhale and his lips part, your tongue delves into his mouth, sweeping along his. To your surprise, he reciprocates the action, and presses his chin up into yours, asserting a new sort of need. Despondent groans and laughs of shock pepper the cafeteria around you, and from behind you, came the confusion of the other residents of the table. As you take Eddie Munson in literal mouthfuls, you felt something shift in him, and the noise started to fade away. You tilt your head, and push deeper into the kiss.

“Who the hell is she?” One of the boys asks, clearly as confused as everyone else was.

You shudder against him, feeling a burning heat between your legs, and immediately pull away to stand up, turning to face the far table. Jason was staring at you, looking more embarrassed than disgusted, but he did well hiding it with his scholarship scowl. You wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, drawing your — Eddie’s— the mutual saliva across your cheek. Triumphantly, you hold your arms out, daring the blonde haired moron to say anything further. He doesn’t. 

With a proud smirk on your face, you pivot back to Eddie, lips parted to speak, maybe to apologize to him for being so forward. All that comes out though, is the jarring echo of the lunch bell as it rings loudly through the cafeteria. You take that as an excuse to get out of the situation, and step down onto the bench between two of his little minions, then onto the floor. With your heart pounding in your chest like a drum, you make a beeline for the lockers. You’re practically running down the halls, and for what? To get away from Eddie? The guy you had just swapped spit with? And liked it?  

After shaking his head free of the shock, Eddie hurriedly bins his lunch and takes off after you, leaving the boys to their own devices. He was panting quietly once he’d finally caught up to you. “Hey, just wait a minute, okay?”

You say nothing, and keep digging in your locker for a book you knew wasn’t there. You’d left it at home, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“Come on, you can’t just plant something like that on me and run away, man.” You hear a thump against the locker next to you, and out of the corner of your eye, see him leaning his shoulder into it. You huff and keep digging.

“You really think I’d give you mono?” He asks, sounding hurt.

Forcing your breath out through your teeth, you stop digging, and lean back to look at him. Those puppy eyes…

“No,” you say, feeling bad that he even heard that to begin with. You shut the locker. “I don’t. But the point was that I’d rather suffer with y— errr suffer any sort of wicked sickness than be even remotely happy around him.”

“So… why’d you stop? Was it that bad?”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I stopped because I… um, the bell was going to ring.” That was a lie. You stopped because your beating heart had sunk between your legs. Kissing him was a massive turn-on, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“That it did…” he starts, absentmindedly playing with a strand of his own hair. “And now we’re late.”

You narrow your eyes. His brows flick upwards and the tip of his tongue presses pointedly into his lower lip, a little glimmer of mischief in his expression. Ready to prove him wrong, your eyes dart to the clock above the lockers, the visual causing you to curse under your breath. You hadn’t even heard the second bell, but he was right. Three minutes past. And Mr. Jenkins? Didn’t let anyone in after the bell rang. Fucker. Eddie shimmies closer, his soft, brown eyes falling to your lips. He was smiling, watching you and looking like he was daydreaming about having those soft lips against his again. 

“You wanna’... maybe show me what else you’d rather be doing than spending your time with brainless Ken dolls?”

You considered the offer for a moment. You had been pining after him since your first English class with him, and now… your split decision had thrown open the door to opportunity. When you’d tried to close it, Eddie had put his dirty white Reebok right in the way.

“Screw it, let’s go.” 

“Yeah?” He confirms, excited.

“Yeah.” 

Eddie wastes no time, taking hold of your hand as he passes you, towing you in the direction of the doors and out into the parking lot. 

How did you end up here? In retrospect; you’d probably have to thank Jason for pissing you off that day, in that particular way that really drove you over the edge. Because if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been crawling into the back of Eddie Munson’s van while he stood behind you, looking at the gentle curve of your ass.

After throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder, making sure there weren’t any prying eyes watching the two of you, Eddie follows you inside and pulls the door shut behind him, the metal squeaking loudly. You sit down and cross your legs, resting against the interior wall. The inside of his van is warm, having baked in the sun all afternoon. Cassette tapes litter the floor behind the seats, and a Judas Priest shirt hangs over the headrest of the passenger seat. A few undisclosed cables are wadded up in the corner, you assume they were musical in nature. He seemed like the type. It’s exactly what you’d pictured his van to look like. 

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry about the… mess.” 

You chuckle, looking brightly at him. “I don’t care. Plus, Judas Priest is rad. That song that came out last month… Turbo Lover? Gets stuck in my head all the time.” 

Delighted by this reaction, Eddie knee-walks over to you, that same mischievous smile on his face as before. He leans down, exhaling over your lips before looking into your eyes with a burning curiosity.

“Why were you sitting at his table anyway? You don’t seem like his type.” 

“His type? Gah, gross. No. We’re lab partners. Regrettably. Turns out, he’s kind of a massive dolt when it comes to science.” You pause and heave a sigh, your breath rushing out over his cheeks. He blinks. “I really don’t want to talk about Jason right now, Eddie.” 

“Oh yeah, totally.” With that, his hand snaps to your jaw, where he holds it gently, his thumb stroking your cheek. “You wanna’ makeout or something?” 

You can’t help but laugh, unsure if it’s because of the butterflies in your stomach, or because he’s kind of a dork. Smooth and very charming, but a dork all the same. You chalk it up to a combination of both and lean forward until the tips of your noses touch. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanna’ makeout. Again.”

This time, Eddie is the one to initiate the kiss. He presses his lips against yours softly a few times, your lips sticking together each time he pulls away. Relishing in the taste of you, he hums into the kiss, pressing himself closer to you. After a few moments, he breaks the kiss to readjust his position. The break is too long, it seems, because before you know it, he’s back to leaning over you and craning his neck down to kiss you from above. His hands drop to find your neck, his thumb trailing down over the front of it while the others stay tenderly wrapped around the side, squeezing slightly. The motion sends a deep shiver down your spine, reigniting the embers of your arousal. Eddie laughed breathily into the kiss. 

“Quite the reaction…” he murmurs over your lips.

“Oh, shuttup.” Your hand makes a fist in his shirt, pulling him back onto you. “Keep kissing me.” 

“As you wish.” He says dreamily, with lust woozying his speech. His voice is slightly deeper now, laced with hunger, and you whimper, pressing your knees together. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices this, and moves his free hand to your kneecaps, wriggling in between them to separate them. They fall apart with no resistance, and again, Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against your lips, sending a tickling wave over them. Your willingness almost embarrasses you, but when Eddie says nothing, only moves to slot himself in between your thighs, you realize that he’s into it. 

“No need to be shy here, princess. Just you and me.”

Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers splaying out over his back. “God, you’re cute.” 

“So are you.” 

“No, you’re really cute.” 

Eddie pulls away, furrowing his brow as if he’s confused. He is – he’s confused on whether or not you realize he thinks you’re a catch, too. You sense the confusion, and roll your hips up against his. His breath hitches in his throat, eyeing you pleadingly. It’s a warning – you can’t do things like that lest he lose control.  

“Uuughh,” you moan. “I don’t know why it took me this long to kiss you.” 

“Me neither.” 

He presses his lips against yours again, his tongue slipping past the two plush pillows, tasting the waxiness of your lipstick. Swiping his tongue along yours, he deepened the kiss, enticing you to join in a painfully erotic dance of spit-swapping. He exhales hotly over your mouth and grinds his hips against yours, groaning softly into your mouth. You grind back, knowing exactly what you’re doing. You can feel what you’re doing to him; it was currently pressed against your inner thigh. 

You reach down between your bodies, finding the warm bulge in the front of his black jeans and give him a soft squeeze. The sudden contact makes him lurch forward, crushing himself somehow further against you. He can’t get any closer to you without melting into your body which, in truth, makes him crazy. He makes a sound — something between a whine and a gasp — and ruts his hips against your center. The pressure has you reeling, pressing your back against the inside of the van. 

“Eddie, fuck…” 

“Yeah,” he echoes your sentiment, nodding his head so enthusiastically that his soft brown hair flutters. 

“Can I…?” 

He grins. “You can if I can. It’s only fair.” 

You let your legs fall farther apart, granting him access. With a newfound urgency, you quickly yank on his waistband, pull the silver button from its slit and maneuver your hand inside the elastic of his boxers. On the way down, you rake your fingers through the thatch of brown hair above his cock. Eddie responds by tightening his grip on your neck instinctively. The tips of your fingers find the searing hot head of his cock, precum leaking from the slit. With an audible mmmm, you swipe your thumb over it, smearing around the underside of the tip. Eddie hisses through his teeth, rutting his hips over and over again – forcing you to jerk him off a little. The tip slides through your fist, slippery and warm and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sound. 

“Wow,” you breathe, in awe. You weren’t sure what you expected, but feeling a cock this heavy wasn’t on the menu. You’d been with a few metalheads before, and they were all average at best. You thought he’d follow suit. Not heavy in your hand. But he is. God, he is. Eddie licks hungrily at your mouth before running his tongue along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth, biting down slightly. You groan, pressing your head back against the wall. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you say, breathlessly before squeezing his cock again. It twitches in your grip, hardening just a little bit further. You can feel the tension in his lower abdomen every time you slip your hand deeper into his boxers, tugging at his cock as you slide back up. 

His hands drop from your neck to your waist to your hips, his thumb making circles on the strip of exposed stomach flesh between your black leather skirt and your shirt. One hand sinks lower,  moving from your hip to your leg, sliding against the pillowy, cream soft flesh of your inner thigh.  It slides up your skirt, pressing against the nylons, and grazing your cunt from the outside. Inside his jeans, your hand starts to go slack, but Eddie quickly snaps you back to attention.

“I’m gonna’ need you to stay focused, baby. Don’t stop.”  

“S-sorry.” You pick up the pace, stroking his cock again at a much steadier speed. He lets out a soft groan, the feeling of your hand gently stroking his dick sending him into a haze of pleasure. But, he, too, has to focus. 

Eddie gets back to work, carefully undoing the zipper on the side of your skirt. He tugs, shimmying the skirt down over your hips and continues pulling until he pauses to pull your legs from the black circle, tossing it towards the van doors. Now, the only thing between him and your cunt is the fabric of your tights and your white satin underwear. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is Eddie – the look on his face says it all. He sweeps you into another kiss. 

It’s almost as if he was using the kiss as a distraction from the adept way he’s rolling your nylons off your hips and down your thighs. You almost don’t feel it and don’t notice until he’s got them down around your ankles. 

“May I?” 

“May you? What is this –” You asked, trying to tease him, but your voice is so high pitched, so feathery with lust, that it just sounds ridiculous. You huff and nod, giving him whatever permission he felt he needed. 

His middle finger traces the visible slit in your underwear and embarrassingly, your whole body responds. From your legs snapping shut on his hand to the utterly humiliating moan that tumbled off your lips, there’s no coming back from that reaction. Eddie laughs quietly, almost devilishly and you relax your legs again. 

“Sorry, I’ve… I’ve been…. Um…” 

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.”

“Oh god, fuck… I’ve kinda’ sorta’ had a thing for you since English with M–”

“Mrs. Lawrence? Last semester.” 

Your mouth hung slack. He knew? 

“You really thought you’d walk in, looking the way you do, and I wouldn’t remember?” 

Your stomach tightens underneath your shirt; butterflies are erupting beneath the skin. Any further jabs to your heart and they actually might rupture through your ribcage.

His finger sweeps along your center again, before hooking around the scalloped edge of the panties and pulling them down over the curve of your hip. A clear, slick strand stretches between your cunt and the fabric before snapping. Eddie growls, a deeply pleased sound erupting from his throat. 

Two fingers part your folds, sweeping tantalizingly at the underside of your clit before sliding down to your entrance. He prods the opening with his middle first, making tiny circles and spreading your arousal around your cunt. Finally, he inserts both fingers, sinking them to the knuckle. Moving his arm, you watch as the bats literally fly back and forth and let out a small, breathy laugh. The way he was working you felt so good, your hand instinctively tightened around his cock. Eddie shuffled closer, his knee in front of your cunt. Before you have time to react, Eddie abruptly takes hold of your left hand and brings it above your head, holding it tight against the wall of his van, his rings pressing into your fingers. Your digits tangle with his and he flays them open.

He continues thrusting his fingers in and out, watching your every move. You looked up and whined loudly; the sight of your smaller hand entangled with his larger one was divine, and sent another shockwave through your core. The coil in your stomach wound tighter, and tighter. Your body flushed with heat, and you were suddenly wishing you were naked underneath him. Eddie suddenly leans over you, pressing the side of his face against yours. 

“I’m your turbo lover…” He sings quietly in your ear, his tone honeyed and low, absolutely dripping with sex appeal. Your eyes roll back in your head, your jaw falling open. “...tell me there’s no other…” 

“Oh fuck, Eddie, oh my god-!”

At the singing, your needy pussy clenched around his digits, shivering violently. His thumb moves to your swollen, tender clit, rubbing it back and forth expertly. The coil snaps, and you moan loudly, banging your head against the wall a few times. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

You shouldn’t have found it so hot, but the way he sung the lyrics into your ear sent a wave of electricity through your entire body. As the sound of your moans reach his ears, Eddie groans and bucks his hips rhythmically, pumping himself closer to the edge of orgasm. 

After a few more pumps from you, his back arches and he groans your name – another surprise that he knows that – as his hot, sticky release coats your fingers as wave after wave of pleasure surges through him. The flushed, pink tip was exposed enough that when he does finally lose it, the first spurts of cum find their way onto your shirt. He doesn’t notice right away, still thrusting his hips into your loose fist. Finally, he brings his head forward to look at you again. His chest is heaving, panting from the exertion, and his eyes trail from your face down to your shirt. The wanton look is replaced with one of horror. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry! Here uh,” Eddie paused, stretching over to yank the shirt from the seat. “Wear this. I promise it’s clean. Decently… uh… clean.” 

You didn’t care if it wasn’t. The fact that he had given you his shirt because he accidentally came on yours was single handedly the cutest thing you’d ever had a guy do for you. You withdrew your hand from his boxers, and he let go of your other hand. Quickly, you pulled your shirt over your head and wadded it up in a ball, setting it next to you. His shirt was baggy, but you quickly remedy that by tying the front in a knot. The way that Eddie’s eyes skirted over your breasts wasn’t lost on you. You smirk. 

“Think Mr. Jenkins noticed we were both gone?” He asks as you fluff your hair. 

“Probably. F’s for both of us.” 

Eddie smiles.

You look down at the shirt, trying to talk your blushing cheeks down. “I’ll give this back to you. Remind me.” 

“Sure,” he says, not fully convinced he wants it back. He likes the idea of you wearing his shirt around school. A dirty little reminder of what occurred. “You should come to one of our meetings.” 

“Meetings?” You ask, quirking a brow. 

“Yeah,” he says, plucking his shirt. Your eyes drift down to the red, snarling demon on his chest. The words Hellfire Club crown the demon, decorated with medieval looking weapons.

“Right, right. Dungeons and Dragons… I’ve never played it.”

“I’ll teach you, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” 

[PART TWO HERE]

[lillypad910]

Such a Good Girl

Dom! Eddie Munson x Sub! Girly! Reader

Warnings: (not pre-read well, apologize for some errors, I wrote his half awake) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, reader is an "innocent" slut (I'm not sorry about it), pet names (Bunny, Baby), Kinks (breeding, sub/dom relationship, reader has a pile of stuffed animal that he literally fucks her on, have fun lol)

Summary: Eddie sneaks into your window to find you getting ready for bed. But he was other plans for your evening.

A/n: I wrote this half asleep and it is pure filth. I haven't written smut in a HOT minute and this was me kind of getting a practice run to write the smut for a later fic with a certain character reader I fear people are BEGGING from this blog. Enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!

All Pics from Pinterest!

Eddie parks his car down the road, not wanting to alarm your parents with his van sitting outside. He walks all the way up to your house, jumping your white picket fence and making his way towards the backyard. He knows which window is yours, having snuck in a few times before. He climbs up the lattice on the side of the brick wall of your house, making his way up to your window. He places his feet firmly on the roof that sticks out, looking into your window.

There you are, his beautiful sweet girl, brushing your hair at your vanity. Your cute flowy nightgown makes you look like you stepped right out of a 1960’s magazine. Your window is open a bit, letting in the cool air of the night.

He knocks on the glass, startling you a bit and almost making your drop your hair brush. You turn and immediately smile at him. You walk over and open the window more, letting the rocker inside. “Hi, Eddie.” You giggle as he stumbles in, nearly tripping over your lace curtains. “Hi, sweetheart.” He straightens himself out before closing the window, “you look cute.” Your cheeks flush a bit at the compliment. You aren’t used to compliments yet, but Eddie is determined to make sure you know your worth.

“I’m sorry for coming so late, were you about to go to bed?” He asks, glancing over at the pink comforter with multiple stuffed animals on it. You shake your head, climbing onto the bed and grabbing one of the plushies, holding them close to your heart. It was one he got you, a little bunny with big floppy ears, Mr Flospy is what you named him.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Princess, you need your beauty sleep.” You look up at him, your eyes glistening a bit in the light from your bedside lamp. “But you just got here…” Eddie smiles and holds out his arms, and you immediately tackle him in a hug, Mr Flopsy still in your arms. “I don’t want you to go, please stay.” You nuzzle your nose into his neck, and he hums, enjoying the feeling. “Bunny,” the nickname earns a whimper from you, it’s your favorite, “you said you want me to stay?” He clarifies, leaning you back into your stuffies. You nod, holding Mr Flopsy to your chest.

“Bunny,” Eddie leans over you and kisses your forehead, “have you been a good girl?” You nod again, your thighs pressing together. “Use your words, sweetheart.” “Y-Yes… I’ve been a good girl…!” Eddie loves these moments, your cheeks flushed and beautiful eyes blown. “Hmm,” he leans down and kisses your soft pink lips, he can tell you have on a cherry chapstick. He kisses you a few times, earning little whimpers from you, before moving down your jaw and neck.

“E-Eddie…” you grip at his vest, legs already getting shaky and he hasn’t even done anything other than kiss you. “Bunny, relax, you’re working yourself up.” He runs his palms over your thighs, securing his hips in between them. “Such a pretty girl,” he nibbles a bit at your collarbone, earning a gasp from you, “Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your parents hearing their little girl being a total slut, do you?” You glance away from him, the blush on your cheeks expanding out to your ears. He knows what you like, what you need.

He lifts your nightgown a little rubbing his ringed fingers over your panties. You grip his arm, not wanting him to pull away. His fingers dip under the fabric, beginning to rub circles over your clit. You swear he can do what ever he wants to you, you’d obey everything he told you to do gladly if this was the reward.

Eddie sighs into you ear, watching you twitch at the attention he’s giving your most sensitive place. His hot breath on your skin makes you shiver, along with the soft but firm circles his fingers dance over your clit. You feel your breath catch, a knot already forming in your stomach. “E-Eddie…”

“God, you’re so easy…” Eddie moves his hand a little lower into your underwear, slowly inserting two fingers in see to you. You grip his arm tighter, a soft gasp leaving your lips that makes him smirk. “What? What is it, Baby…? Fuck, are you drooling?” He places his free hand under your chin and whips away the bit of saliva that leaks from the corner of your mouth, watching you begin to pant a bit just from his fingers curling inside you.

You moan, your hand smacking against your mouth to muffle it. Eddie only smiles wider at this, removing his hand from your underwear, getting you to pout. He’s quick to remove the garment, sliding it down your legs then dropping it over the side of your bed. He places his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs so he can see all of you.

“Fuck, Bunny, you’re dripping.” He lowers himself down, leaving soft kisses down on your abdomen. “So needy,” he kisses lower and lower, before leaving one right on your clit, earning another moan from you.

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair as he finally places his mouth to your cunt. God the feeling…

“E-Eddie…!” One hand moves to shove two fingers back inside you as his tongue laps around. He’s learned your body, what you like, and how to work it.

He buries his head into your cunt, sucking on your clit as his fingers pump inside you. You wreath at the feeling, lifting your hips off your bed from the pleasure. He takes this as encouragement, wrapping his other arm under you and moving his fingers faster.

It doesn’t take long before you’re shaking, oozing all over his face. He pulls away and pushes your legs up as he gets closer once more, pressing his clothed crotch to your soaked cunt.

“Fuck, you feel that, Bunny?” Of course you do, his large, hard cock fighting to get out of his pants as he grinds against you. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His question is rhetorical but you still answer anyways. “Please… E-Eddie, please…”

He unbuttons his pants, yanking them down and tossing them away, then the same with his boxers. His cock springs free, earning a soft gasp from you.

God, it looks so good…

“You’re drooling again, Bunny.” But this time he doesn’t wipe away the spit, instead he pulls away from you all together. “Do you wanna suck it?”

You don’t even hesitate as you push yourself out of the pile of stuffed animals, crawling onto your stomach in front of him. You grab his cock, immediately shoving your face into his crotch. He groans as you lick up his shaft, your nose taking in the musky scent. “That’s it, Bunny.”

You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, not wanting to wait anymore. You have to open your mouth a bit wider to fit him, but you love to do so. Eddie combs his fingers into your hair before gripping a chunk, “come on, Bunny, you can do better than that.” He slowly pushes your head down, which you happily take.

Before long your nose is brushing into his hair, his cock deep in your throat as it twitches. You’re drooling so much. You moan, sucking his cock as you hollow your cheeks. You move your tongue skillfully, just like he trained you.

“You’re doing so good, Bunny. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He moved his hips back before thrusting forward, earning a throaty moan from you. You try not to gag, angling yourself just right to where he’s not agitating it.

He thrusts into your mouth again, making your thighs press together. You begin to bob your head with his thrusts, pairing it perfectly so that when he slams back in, you push your head against him too. He gets a bit rough, beginning to thrust faster and harder until you can control the angle anymore. You gag, but don’t pull away, honestly you can’t. His hand holds your head down as he uses your throat like a toy.

And then he yanks you off, your throat sore as you try to catch your breath. He shoves you back into your stuffed animals, before grabbing your legs and lifting them up to your head. You blush, embarrassed at this position. But you don’t have long to think about it before he’s climbing on top of you and rubbing his dick along you.

“Eds…” you moan out as you feel his tip press to your cunt. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in place, before thrusting his hips forward, his cock going deep inside you.

You gasp, your mind blanking as he begins to thrust hard and faster, using your cunt for his own pleasure. You moan, your bed squeaking as you take his cock. “Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He mumbles into your ear.

You pant as you feel him twitch inside you, your cunt already becoming sore from the abusive thrusts. But you don’t care, how could you? Your pussy is being used for what it was made for.

You cum hard on his cock, squeezing around him until you see stars but he doesn’t stop. If anything he’s thrusting harder, pounding you in as you become a panting, moaning mess.

He’s fucking you stupid.

“Such a good girl, taking my dick so deep.” His cock pistons in and out of you, your mind foggy as you just take it. You have to be good and just take it, or you won’t get your reward.

He groans as his thrusts get sloppy, hitting certain angles that’s has you wreathing. “Eddie!”

He’s quick to silence you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat and giving a good solid squeeze that has you coming undone on his cock again. “I’m gonna fucking breed you.” He groans into your ear. “Gonna fill you up just how you want, fuck you full.”

You’re gasping for air as you cum on his cock again, but this time, he thrusts a few more times before he finally thrusts deep inside you one last time. You feel the warmth of his cum gush inside you, moaning at the feeling. You need him, you need him to fucking ruin you. Imagine what people would say if he got you pregnant? Your family would be furious…

You hope he did.

You both sit there for a while, basking in the post sex glow. He’s collapsed on top of you, pinning you still to your bed. You don’t mind, your arms wrapped around him as his cock is still buried inside you.

He kisses you lovingly, smothering you in them as you giggle. “You’re so pretty,” his voice is horse, but you understand him well enough.

You snuggle into his neck, still a bit dazed. “I love you.” The words slip out so effortlessly, but of course they do. It’s Eddie.

“I love you,” he smiles into your hair, nuzzling into the strands.

Then you hear a door down the hall open. The hall light flicks on. Eddie scurries off you, grabbing his clothes off the floor and hiding behind the door. You wobbly get up from the bed, but you don’t have time to put on your underwear before a knock comes from your door.

“Sweetie? You alright?” Your dad calls from the other side. You take a deep breath, straightening your 60’s nightgown so it’s just covering you. You open the door just enough to pop your head out. “Yes, Dad?” You smile at the older man, trying to put on this innocent look.

“Are you alright?” He goes to lift his hand, placing it against your forehead, “You feel warm, are you catching a fever?” “Oh, no, I…” you try to think of something quick, “I just had a nightmare. Sorry if I woke you.”

You feel Eddie’s cum starting to drip out of your used cunt, and you try to press your legs together a bit to stop it.

“Are you sure? Do you need some water?” He looks over your face once more. “No, no, really, I’m good. Go back to bed, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You give him a smile and he nods before walking off again. You shut your door slowly, hearing it click into the hold.

“Well,” Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “You need to be more quiet next time.” You go to turn around but he stops you, holding you in place in front of him. “Oh, Bunny,” he trails his hand down your front, “you’re letting too much out, we can’t have that.”

Oh tonight’s on a be a long night.

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[soughthopeoldd]

“It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.” (Eddie)

" Chrissy... " He chuckles, letting his eyes shut as she rested her forehead against his. " We've been together for 10 years now and in that time we've had a kid, bought a house, and seen a small part of the world too. Nothing and I mean nothing is gonna change the way I feel about you. You are my life. Music is my passion. Everything else outside of our little bubble is an afterthought. I love you and even though I might be distracted from time to time that will always be true. You hear me? " He asks, opening his eyes and smiling. " I said do you hear meeeeeeeee? " He tickles her sides.