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enam3l · 2 years ago

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love, lola / chapter nine pt.1 / going solo (5.7k)

Eddie’s arrived in California, leaving you behind, to start his new life as a rockstar.

thank you for 1.2k of you kind angels!!!??? and thank you guys for your patience, life has been hectic with work and school and after the anniversary of eddie’s death (but not in this fic baby) i thought fuck it imma post what we got for chapter 9 - I hope it’ll all be worth the wait

a/n: sex drugs and rock and roll - no fr there is graphic sex here

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

California is too fucking hot. That is what Eddie Munson has learnt since moving. Far too hot for hair like his and definitely far too hot to stay hidden behind the safety of his leather jacket. After years of the mind numbing mundanity of Hawkins, Eddie was propelled into the fast pace L.A. mindset. Each morning for a moment his heart hammered, wondering where he was until the palm trees outside the window reminded him it definitely wasn't Indiana. The apartment the record label had set him and rest of Kraven up in was definitely not the trailer - maybe the size of every single one in the park combined.

So far, everyone had been nice; a niceness you're not usually privy to when you're known as 'The Freak'. Kraven were excited he accepted the offer and their label and manager had heralded him the hero of the hour. But a nagging part of Eddie couldn't ignore the feeling that this wasn't really his band, he was a replacement. There was a brotherhood between the bandmates long before his arrival and it's hard to ever truly assimilate with a bond like that. Regardless, he was there, escaped the confines of his small town and now living the dream of becoming a rockstar. This was always the fantasy, wasn't it?

September 2nd 1986

For the first time in his life, Eddie is sat in a real life, high tech, actual recording studio. A far cry from Gareth’s egg box insulated garage. An egg shaped chair swallows him whole which feels tediously symbolic of his time so far in California. Everything is much bigger than him. As the band and producers play him the demos they have already, with hopeful looks on their faces, he resorts to anxiously twisting the rings on his fingers. They're a tangible reminder of home. He thumbs them in order. Skull. Pig. Cross and bones. Mom's. But now there's a new edition - yours.

It made its way onto his finger as you said your final goodbyes in the airport terminal and it hasn't left since. Between runny noses and weepy eyes, Eddie frowned as you withdrew from a hug that had already lasted several minutes (which was still not long enough).

'I have something for you, Teddy,' you confess as you sift through your bag.

'You already threw the party, sweetheart. Whatcha wasting money on me for?' He sighs.

The protests were not what you wanted clearly as he's met with a silencing finger until you finally found what you were looking for. Now you chew your lip anxiously, fumbling with a little velvet pouch.

'It's not for going away... it's - well, I gathered, this will be the first time since we met that we've not spent our birthdays together...'

Eddie's stomach drops, he had not gathered that. 'Oh...' he murmurs.

'So, I thought I'd give you your present now. I guess. If that's okay?'

Totally thrown, he only blinked and nodded. Taking his hand, you lay his palm out flat and shake the pouch until Eddie hears a little clinking, then feels cool metal on the skin.

'It's the big 2-1, y'know. I wanted us to have something special. I couldn't think of anything to buy. But, I - uhhh - I could think of something to make.'

Finally, he moves and inspects your gift closer. Two silver rings, perfectly imperfect. Carefully, he spins them round until he can finally see what the feature of them is. It causes him to gasp and you to resort to nervously stumbling over your words.

'I was taking a silversmithing class at college and I was thinking about your rings and then I thought I could make you one. Then I thought I could make us some. Matching ones. For our birthdays. It's silly. They're not professional or anything. Y'know a little wonky. Just thought it'd be nice...'

Eddie balls his fist up, clutching the precious contents and closes his eyes to swallow up a sniffle. One ring has E for Eddie on, the other identical except for your initial.

'Wonky? Y/N... they're perfect. This is, holy shit, this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me...'

The compliment makes your insides fizz.

'Are you sure? I mean, I was gonna tidy them up more but when you were in hospital. When I went back to New York... I brought them back with me. Just incase... y'know...'

Just incase Eddie never made it to his 21st is the unspoken ending to that sentence that you both understand. Eddie takes your hands in his and squeezes. The rings shielded by your conjoined palms.

'Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you... put it on me! Go on! Make me your little hand model m!'

As usual, Eddie's theatrics ease the tension and force you into giggles.

Carefully, you slide the E ring over Eddie's finger. He prompts you to place it on the bare one next to where his Mom's old ring resides. Then, he takes your hand and delicately places your own ring onto the matching finger. To the rest of the people in the airport, it must've looked like the exchanging of vows between two lovers being forced apart. Really, they wouldn't have been entirely incorrect.

‘So what do you think man?’

Eddie breaks his daze to be met with a room of hopeful eyes.

‘Huh?’ He murmurs.

‘The demos!’ The manager Chris encourages, ‘for the album! These are what the guys have put down so far. Love em?’

Eddie’s brain stumbles over what will be the correct thing to say. The songs bad? God no, there was a reason the bad were signed. But were they what he would do? Not really. It was clear they were angling as more commercially marketable, less niche like metal, a more digestible rock. Taylor was more Iggy than Ozzy.

‘Yeah, yeah they’re tight,’ Eddie scrambles, praying he didn’t appear rude.

Already though, his brain has calculated how he would rearrange each element of the songs, what lyrics he’d tweak, how he’d make it his own - but he has to remind himself that’s not why he’s here.

‘We want a single out for Christmas. Make a big splash over the festive season. Hit the talk shows, the radios. Get you boys out there. Build up the hype for a Valentine’s album release,’ Chris cheerfully continues.

‘But don’t forget, none of these songs are finalised,’ a rough voice from the corner of the room interrupts Chris’ ambitions.

Riz, the producer, sits like the mastermind behind the console in his swivel chair. His skin weathered and tanned, littered with scribbled tattoos not unlike Eddie’s own. Tired eyes that have seen too many young ambitious bands and their teams come in and out of his studio, are concealed by thin tinted glasses. A mane of salt and pepper curls, some formed into dreads cascade past his broad shoulders. A real old school rocker.

‘Oh well, yes, yes of course,’ Chris fumbles, ‘plenty of room for your inputs Eddie.’

It’s clear Chris is entirely intimidated by Riz’s presence. His clean cut Armani suited self a direct contrast to the producer’s rough look. One is the face, the other is the real brains.

‘Speaking of, Chris, why don’t you take Taylor, Spike and Keith to lunch. Use that gold card the label bestowed upon you whilst me and Eddie get accompanied?’

Eddie shoots round to look at Riz, used to his name being called out as the signal he’s in trouble. But when he meets his eyes, they only offer warmth and a small smirk; something Eddie had yet to see him crack so far.

‘Oh are you sure?’

‘Yeah, yeah, lots of technical things I need to adjust now Eddie is with his. Go on,’ Riz practically shoos Chris out the door. The rest of Kraven following suit, amused by their manager’s nervous babbling.

Finally, once the door is shut and locked, Riz returns to his throne, spinning round and looking at Eddie expectantly.

‘Well, come on then,’ he chuckles, smacking his tattooed hand against a leather chair beside him. Eddie immediately scrambles over, Sweetheart safely in her case towing behind him. There’s an awkward silence as Eddie toys with his guitar case, desperate to avoid Riz’s piercing gaze.

Nonchalantly, Riz swings his feet up onto a nearby stool and reclines in his chair.

‘So… you hate the songs,’ he chuckles.

Eddie finally looks up to gawp, scrambling for a response.

‘No, I don’t, it’s not, I never said I-‘

‘It’s cool brother. You’re a metalhead. They aren’t a metal band. They’re not your first choice, no sweat.’

Riz, in just a few minutes of knowing each other, has called Eddie’s bluff. The tone in his voice is not anger or judgment, it’s just matter of fact with a hint of amusement.

‘They’re not my first choice either, sound wise. I’m a lot more old school myself, personally. But, fuck, you know what, those boys got more star power than anyone else who’s been brought to me in the last two decades.’

Eddie nods eagerly. There’s a reason he was honoured Kraven had asked him, they were really fucking good and most surprisingly - nice. Riz eyes the boy before him, big brown soulful eyes that scream there’s a story behind them.

‘I think you’re an old soul like me though, Munson. Let me guess… you’ve got notebooks full of lyrics in that case of yours?’

A beetroot blush flushes Eddie’s cheeks, he’s been rumbled and stutters an agreement.

‘And I bet you’ve never shown anyone either, huh?’

Two for two.

‘No, never. They’re all a little… personal,’ Eddie murmurs.

‘All the best stuff is. So what you’re gonna do is get them out and show me who the musician Eddie Munson really is.’

With an eagle eye, Riz combs through the tattered pages of scrawling lyrics. Words dating back years. The afternoon flies by as Eddie demonstrates the melodies he wrote for each with Riz adding his own input.

‘Well, Munson. I don’t think Kraven or the label know what they’ve accidentally come across with you,’ Riz scoffs. His fingers gloss over the stacks of song lyrics Eddie’s unveiled.

‘And you better be marrying this girl you’re writing about. Ain’t heard love songs like this in a lifetime.’

The way Eddie nervously shrinks in on himself over his words isn’t lost on Riz, things rarely ever are.

September 21st 1986

‘TWENTY ONE MOTHERFUCKER’

Raucous laughter and cheers manage to erupt over the booming club music. The fine spray of champagne, more expensive than his trailer, soaking Eddie’s curls. The women that had crowded the booth, struggle to get in the stream of booze. Liquid gold dripping from their open mouths and exposed cleavage. No, this was not the usual Munson birthday set up.

Despite attempting to keep his twenty-first birthday a secret, Eddie had been rumbled. Chris’ assistant Sammy had discovered his impending celebration after going through files. That was spilt during bedroom talk with Spike the bass player who she’d been hooking up with. Spike then mentioned a small night with the boys to Taylor and Keith to celebrate, which was overheard by manager Chris. So now due to Chris’ inability for subtlety, the boys found themselves in an exclusive WeHo club, surrounded by bottomless bottles, scantily clad girls and yes men - all courtesy of the label. Eddie was light years away from where he’d usually spend his evenings round humble drama room DnD table or with lukewarm beers in Gareth’s garage.

After three weeks of locking themselves in the studio when the sun had begun to rise, only leaving well after, the band were finally letting loose. The guys had all told Eddie their tales of L.A’s debaucherous rock’n’roll night life; the secret places where other musicians mingled, where dealers made their money and girls got the memorable nights they went looking for. But so far, he’d yet to experience it and now he was, Eddie wasn’t sure it was for him. A rainbow of pills scattered the table without discretion, he could tell they were far better quality than the shit he used to sell. Servers came with an endless supply of bottles, money no question. A far cry from the gruff, stingy bartenders at The Hideout. The clientele is a far cry as well. The girls that had flocked to their booth looked straight off a Hollywood set. One busty blonde sat on a bewildered Chris’ knee, his eyes desperately trying not to focus on the cleavage that bobbed below his chin. Spike was making it clear he and Sammy weren’t exclusive as a brunette and a redhead sat either side of him as they purred in his ear. Taylor had disappeared into the crowd, ever the life of the party, surely feeling the effects of the pills he’d let fizzle on his tongue. Out of everyone, the only person Eddie felt envious of was Keith.

Nestled happily in the corner of the booth sat Keith and his fiancee Grace, lost in their own little world. The pair had scoffed when a girl had tried to luck with Keith, knowing hell would freeze over before he left Grace. High school sweethearts who had made it work as he’d followed the path of wannabe rockstar. She was no eager groupie or ditzy model, Grace was a lawyer; officially Kraven’s lawyer. Put together, fierce and completely soft on Keith - reminding Eddie of you. Although, they were a real couple, best friends and lovers, exactly what Eddie had failed in making the two of you. When they whispered private jokes or sleepy appeared from their bedroom, his heart panged with envy. Mind racing with questions of how they managed to make it work. Who made the first move? How did they know it was mutual? How did they know it wasn’t a mistake? All the questions he fretted over when his lips burnt with desperation to meet yours.

Eddie’s wishful gaze is interrupted by a sudden touch to his thigh. Eyes wide with confusion, his head spins round and are met with a fluttering pair staring right back at him. The stranger’s fingers tucking rogue curls behind his ear causes Eddie to freeze. A touch too intimate to receive from anyone but you or his family.

‘Your hair is nearly as long as mine,’ the girl drawls. Long nails still trailing up his shredded jeans and now up his exposed bicep. Whether she hadn’t noticed Eddie’s bewildered look or had just chosen to ignore it, the girl pressed on.

‘The boys told me you're the new lead guitar… I think you’re definitely an upgrade, honey.’

Eddie gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. So far he had been able to avoid interacting with these legendary California girls. Throwing himself into rehearsals with the band and his own late sessions with Riz long after the rest of the guys go home. Women weren’t on his radar. Everyone dull in comparison to the shine he knows radiates off you.

‘Urm, thanks,’ he mumbles, trying to squirm out of her grasp.

‘And he’s a little shy?’ She giggles, ‘sooo cute.’

Eddie’s eyes, wide like saucers, scan the surroundings rapidly, desperate to escape this uncomfortable encounter. He wasn’t interest in a hook up, the thought unimaginable and he definitely didn’t want this. He’s desperate for you more than ever now, wishing for your soft touch, wishing it was your tipsy words being whispered in his ear. His birthdays weren’t for sharing with random hookups, they were always reserved for you. After being separated by your college, Eddie was giddy at the thought of getting to spend your birthdays together again. But now you were torn apart again, now even further apart.

Finally, Eddie spots his opening. The girl leans over to the table to pour another drink, her grip on him loosening. Quickly, he darts up, hopping over everyone’s legs and abandoning the booth as the girl calls after him. Eddie’s feet seem to take him away before his mind is even sure where he wants to go. Hand’s planting on the bar top, causing an unexpecting bartender to jump, Eddie pleas,

‘Is there a phone anywhere I can use?’

The bartender nods, finger jabbing to a corridor beside the toilets. Shouting a thanks behind him, Eddie shoots off in the direction of the promised phones.

Frantically, he punches in a number he’s known by heart for most of his life. Ringed fingers twist round the cord anxiously and the dial tone hums over the vibrations of the club’s speakers.

Eddie’s breath hitches as the other end picks up and fumbling can be heard.

‘H-hello?’ Your sleepy voice croaks.

It’s the best noise he’s heard since he arrived, better than anything he’s heard in the studio.

‘Hi,’ he whispers shyly, ‘it’s me, it’s Eddie. I’m sorry, did I wake you?’

Your giggle makes his stomach churn.

‘I know it’s you, Eds or should I say birthday boy? No, no, it’s okay. I was already awake.’

‘Are you okay? Are you sick?’ He enquires desperately. For a moment, Eddie is sure he hears a hesitation in your voice.

‘No, no, I - urm, you know, just one of those nights. I’m fine! It’s nice to hear your voice.’

Eddie for once is grateful for the distance that separates you for seeing the blush that spreads across his cheeks.

‘It’s really nice to hear yours too. I’m sorry I’ve not been keeping up with the calls, it’s all just -‘

You interrupt before he falls into a spiral of apologies.

‘Eds, it’s fine! You’re a rockstar in training, I don’t expect you to be missing all the fun to be calling me every second.’

‘But, I want to, sweetheart… I wish you were here,’ he sighs.

‘I wish I was too… but this your adventure. This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.’

Eddie desperately wants to let the alcohol coursing through his system to take ahold of his tongue and confess no, you’re everything I’ve dreamed of. But he doesn’t. Your voice chirps up again, trying to dispel the sad silence that took over the line.

‘So, how’s your birthday? How is being 21? Are you not out and drowning in booze and those Cali girls?’ You’re chuckling but he doesn’t laugh.

‘No, no I’m out with the guys. But, urm, no Cali girls. Definitely not.’

Eddie’s not sure if you let out a relieved sigh or it’s just wishful thinking.

‘You’re out?! Eddie, what on earth are you calling me for!’

Your scolding tone makes him grin. He can picture perfectly how your brows are furrowed and how if you were in front of him your hands would be flailing animatedly.

‘Cos birthdays are our thing. You’re much better than this club full of fuckin’ posers.’

‘Yeah, they are. Am I now? Are you trying to flatter me, mister?’

‘Always, sweetheart.’

The pair of you giggle down the phone. His dimpled cheeks aching from the grin you inspire. As the giggles finally subside, Eddie hears you attempt to disguise a yawn and remembers how once again distance keeps you apart.

‘Guess I should let you get to sleep then, huh sweet?’

‘You should go and enjoy your birthday more importantly!’

Eddie huffs, knowing such a thing is impossible without your presence.

‘I’ll try… I’ll speak to you soon, promise.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Eds. Whenever you have time!’

‘I’ll always have time for you. I’ll make sure I at least call you on your birthday.’

‘You better,’ you sleepily smirk, ‘it’s two days after yours, you’ve got no excuse to forget.’

‘How could I?’

Eddie rakes a hand through his curls, knowing he needs to hang up but it’s too hard to let you go.

‘Get some sleep, sweetheart. I miss you.’

‘Goodnight Eddie, I miss you too.’

The line goes dead and once again the only sound filling his ears is the throbbing base. Trying to replay your words in his head, Eddie flops against the wall. Eyes closed tight as he wishes it was you he was breathing in rather than the cloud of perfume wafting from the women’s bathroom nearby.

It’s only when he can feel a presence beside him does Eddie open his eyes. A woman mirrors his position against the wall but faces him, a wicked glint in her cat-like eyes. Taken aback by her close proximity, Eddie jumps causing her to giggle at his squirming.

‘Whatcha waiting for cutie?’

Eddie continues to shuffle away, the phone your warm voice once echoed out of, now uncomfortably sticking into his back.

‘Was just… just using the phone…’ he murmurs nervously.

‘Oh?’ she cocks her head, auburn waves tumbling, ‘and here I thought you were waiting out here for some fun.’

A slender manicured finger reaches out, tugging at a bewildered Eddie’s bottom lip. He stutters as his brain scrambles for a response. Another awkward round of full frontal flirting from random girls. The thought of supermodel groupies throwing themselves at him was somewhat appealing when he was a raging hormone of a teenager. But even then, you were still in the back of his mind on a pedestal, now you live there front and centre. Eddie recoils from her touch, swatting her hand away.

‘No!’ he surprises himself with the firmness in his voice, ‘M’sorry, not looking for anything.’

The girl scoffs a ‘whatever’, rolling her eyes and flouncing off. Just as Eddie finally feels his body relax, a snigger from the corner catches his attention. A frame steps forward from the shadows.

A man, also in his twenties, grins an infectious smile that makes Eddie feel a little giddy. Shorter than himself, but broader, tanned muscles that glistened with sweat from dancing.

‘I think she’s a little disappointed,’ the guy chuckles.

‘I really was just using the phone!’ Eddie insists.

Gradually the two move closer towards each other, Eddie drawn in by the piercing pale eyes that never leave him. Despite the corridor being much cooler than the dance floor, heat bubbled between their bodies.

‘So… Eddie, are you definitely not looking for any kind of fun?’

October 31st 1986

Now in the depths of autumn, the madness of life had only increased. Kraven had found their sound with the addition of Eddie, days spent mastering their sound in the studio. When out of the studio, the boys sat round meeting tables listening to suits spew corporate jargon about their mastermind ideas for selling the band. That was his least favourite part, hearing his existence and passion whittled down to money making schemes. It’s also where Eddie was forced to tackle the idea of fame. Seeing his name in small print under photographs of the band, plastered in pages of music magazines about the next hot thing. Personally, he found it mortifying but Wayne insisted it was proof of him achieving his dreams, whereas you cackled down the phone at the surrealness of it all.

At the end of the day, Eddie buried himself in sheets of paper, attempting to put into words the feelings that brewed inside. Trying to heal the internal wounds the events of the year had left, whilst being a thousand miles from the people who actually understood. Vocalising the sadness he wished he didn’t feel over achieving his dreams of making it but not with his own band. Then as ever, trying to find an outlet for the love he felt for you that bubbled with fervency in your absence and

with every stolen phone call. Then, a couple of times a week, Eddie would present his lyrics to Riz to make sense of, during after-hours at the studio. A secret project the two of them found themselves falling into outside of Kraven. That was another source of guilt, that his heart and soul weren’t invested in the band in the same way Taylor, Spike and Keith’s were. That he reserved the heartfelt work for himself, letting his real passion erupt during the late night sessions with Riz.

Then there was another output Eddie found for his pent up frustrations about his overwhelming emotions and suffocating new lifestyle. A way to let go in a way that didn't leave him ashamed as if he had betrayed you. The guy at the club on his 21st birthday had opened up possibilities that Hawkins had limited. Small town life was oppressive, he didn’t need the rumour mill buzzing with fresh stories that the satanist Munson was also a sodomist. Whilst Taylor and Spike drowned in girls, Eddie became comfortable seeking out something else in the bars and clubs they’d frequent. It was easier, less intimate. He didn’t need to worry about coy teasing, didn’t need to exchange names and take girls home. Eddie could find release down the back of another guy's throat, quick and hot in dark corners and back allies. He was unsure if his bandmates had realised and was anxious that they’d reject him for it but that was another issue forced to the back of his mind, stored in another box overflowing with anxieties.

Halloween was decided as a good marketing angle for the band. Their name added to the line up of hot new rock bands performing at an infamous West Hollywood Halloween party. Something thrown by a record executive’s tabloid covering daughter that had become notorious enough to be spoken about on MTV. Eddie being no stranger to a costume and outlandishness being second nature to Taylor, the pair had put themselves in charge of putting together the band’s costume.

‘This is pretty hardcore you guys,’ Spike admitted, ‘didn’t think you’d pull it off.’

The four cramped into a backstage room at the venue, getting ready for their performance. Eddie’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he finished painting Spike’s body. All four of them were skeletons. Leather trousers and boots embellished with white paint, creating the illusion when on stage they were void of flesh. Their torsos mostly exposed aside from frankly decorative scraps of leather. Spike in long leather sleeves that covered wrist to arm and left the entirety of his chest exposed. Eddie and Keith both in tight leather waistcoats. Then Taylor, naturally, entirely topless aside from some leather wrist cuffs and mask that made him appear as a devilish gimp. All exposed skin had bones painted on top which was now Eddie’s current job.

‘Of course we did,’ Taylor boasts, ‘you really doubted our little DnD nerd’s ability to put together a costume?’

Eddie splatters paint in the singer's direction. Even if they weren’t his friends from home, his band mates had become real friends. Their bantering is interrupted by the door opening and a fallen angel with a clipboard appearing.

‘You guys gotta be outta here in like a minute, the band on stage are wrapping up and you’re next.’ Her sentence is finished with a pop of her bubble gum and the slam of the door.

After final adjustments to the costumes, the boys file out to the side of the stage. Eddie’s chipped black nails gripping at the neck of his guitar. The usual pre-show jitters causing his stomach to flutter.

‘You good brother?’ Keith whispers, a reassuring firm hand bracing Eddie’s shoulder.

‘Yeah, yeah, all cool, I mean y’know aside from usual pre-show nerves,’ he shrugs. Keith nods with understanding, spinning his sticks - a nervous tick Eddie has come to notice.

‘Damn, you better at this fuckin rockstar shit than me. My heart feels like it’s about to fall out my god damn asshole knowing who’s in that audience!’

Quirking an eyebrow, Eddie warily responds,

‘What do you mean… who’s here?’

Keith’s eyes bulge at his bandmate’s obliviousness.

‘Holy shit, you got no gossip rags in that little town of yours? This party is infamous. It’s some real Motley Crue as shit out there. Full of rockstars fuckin heiresses n shit! Little Miss Clipboard said mother fucking Slash is here!’

Before Eddie can even clear his now dry throat to respond, the sound system booms with the excited announcement of the MC.

‘Next up is rock’s hottest new band… Kraven!’

The cheers are muddled by the ringing in Eddie’s ears, his body seized up until Spike nudges him along. With a gulp, he steps out into the spotlight, trusty axe in one hand whilst the other spins the ring you made him.

Dripping sweat causes the paint to bleed down Eddie’s exposed skin. Unsteady hands grab one of the bottles of whiskey thrusted upon them once the band exited the stage and merged into the party. Eddie’s ear’s still buzzed with the raucous applause and hollering that erupted once Kraven finished their set. Immediately after they were mobbed by names he’d read on the backs of cassettes he couldn’t afford in record stores. Producers, lyricists and fellow musicians, all congratulating and praising him - Eddie the freak Munson, the kid who grew up awkward, poor and unwanted. The change of pace in his life was surreal; after a lifetime of critical fails, he’s been rolling nat20s.

A soft evening breeze provides Eddie with as much needed respite as California weather can. The surrealness of inside was getting to him. Skin sticky from sweat induced by the growing crowd of important people with his name on their tongue. His name. Eddie Munson.

‘Eddie Munson?’

It takes a moment for Eddie to realise that voice wasn’t coming from inside his head. A few feet before him, leaning against the roped barrier a guy peers with his head cock. Soft flopping quaff falling into his curious eyes. A cowboy. Blue wash denim waistcoat with nothing underneath exposing taught tanned muscles. A tanned cowboy hat pushed back so it hangs off the back of his neck.

‘Uh, yeah, yeah… can I help you?’

The guy shrugs, hands sliding into the back pockets of tight jeans and rocking on the balls of his cowboy boots.

‘Nope. Just thought it was you. Saw you perform, you were great. More talented than most of these rockstars,’ he scoffs.

‘Oh, I - I don’t know about that. Thanks, I guess,’ Eddie fumbles over his words, eyes focused downwards at those damn cowboy boots.

With a chuckle the guy responds, now daring to move forward, strong hand adjusting Eddie’s waistcoat.

‘See, you just proved me right. Most of those guys would’ve agreed and definitely wouldn’t thank me…’

His fingers brush over Eddie’s jittering own.

‘Need a light for that?’

He pulls up Eddie’s hand that holds a long forgotten cigarette that remained unlit. Gulping, he nods. The mystery cowboy draws nearer, a zippo and a cigarette for himself materialising from inside the waistcoat.

‘I’m Max by the way,’ he smiles as he takes Eddie’s cigarette and places it into his agape mouth for him.

‘I’m Eddie…’

‘I know, babe,’ Max whispers, his own cigarette in his mouth now.

The tips of both cigarettes almost kiss as the distance closes between the two men. The zippo crackles alight, the flame illuminating a pair of wide chocolate eyes staring at a charming pair of green, both sets of pupils dilated.

‘Holy fuck, I knew you were big. Could see it on stage in that tight ass leather,’ Max groans. Metal scrapes on marble as Eddie Munson’s ringed fingers grip at a bathroom countertop as the man he met moments ago pumps his aching cock. Finally the tension built up inside him from the pressure of the evening was on the brink of dissipating. Huffs of air escape his mouth as Max drops to his knees, long tongue flicking at the drip of precum.

‘Knew you’d taste good as well,’ he smirks.

‘God damn, shit,’ Eddie pants as warm lips caress his tip, he struggles to contain himself. His hand lunges out, grabbing at Max’s soft locks. ‘Shit, my balls, suck my fucking balls.’

Pliant, Max does as he’s told, firm balls popping into his mouth causing wild bush to prickle at his face. After a few luxurious sucks, he’s hauled back to his feet and Eddie’s previously shaking hands are nowhere to be seen as he swiftly unbuttons denim.

‘I can’t be the only one to play show and tell.’

Eddie smirks as he watches green eyes flicker in bliss as his fat cock is released from its denim cage. Tanned to match Max’s toned body with a pretty pink head, fair pubes trimmed neatly. A real pretty boy.

‘No wonder you were so confident,’ Eddie chuckles, ‘knew you had that ready and loaded, huh?’

Max whimpers now he’s the one to receive relief from another’s hand. Eddie tugs his chin to force eye contact. Only a moment can they maintain contact before both men are chest to chest, jerking the other off, a mess of precum leaking between them. Open mouths and tongues flickering at each other, spit swapping. It’s dirty and hot and far too filthy for this fancy carpeted bathroom.

Pushing aside a wail of pleasure, Max uses a free hand to fumble inside his waistcoat until he brandishes a foil square. Eddie arches a brow.

‘Jesus, just, just fuck me before I cum,’ Max pleads.

The desperation makes Eddie snigger but it’s mutual.

Quickly, the man is bent over the counter, ass exposed as Eddie’s warm spit drips down. Groans echo as his thumb circles over Max’s tight hole, slipping in as both men’s dicks twitch in suspense.

‘P-please, fuck me,’ he grunts.

‘Alright, alright. You ready cowboy?’

Moans echo off the tiles as Eddie eases into Max’s asshole. The pair’s eyes meet in the mirror they face until he tops out and his head drops into denim. After a moment, Max begins to wriggle beneath, fucking himself on Eddie’s cock until the message is received. Eddie braces himself, fingers digging into hip bone as he begins to drag his length in and out.

Eventually the air is thick with heat and the sound of skin on skin. Full balls slapping against each other. A ringed hand against a plush asscheek. Feral groans and whines of pleasure. So loud that no head is turned when the bathroom door bursts open.

‘What the fuck is this shit?!’ A new voice booms off the tiles.

Eddie and Max’s heads snapped round to the figure in the doorway. The pair caught, trousers round their ankles and Eddie balls deep in a stranger. The image is too incriminating to be anything other than it was. He was exposed and the sweat from the impending orgasm now runs cold. There was no hiding.

-----

damn who tf at the door? my man didnt even get to nut in the hot cowboy

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

#enam3l love lola #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x best friend reader #rockstar eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson is bisexual #rockstar eddie munson x you #eddie munson series

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final-girl96 · 1 year ago

Text

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I didn't go to the concert the next night, or any of the interviews Eddie had through the day. He didn't come stumbling into the room until five in the morning when he needed to be ready at eight for an interview. When he came into the room he crashed on the bed and when he tried to pull me into him I scooted away. While he was in his interviews hungover, I was out shopping. A little retail therapy always helped, except for this time.

Jay followed me, holding my bags as we walked along the shops in Miami. Was it about four hours away? Sure. But I needed to be away from all of Eddie's fans who had migrated to Daytona Beach for the concert or to just get the chance to see him put on the street. It was easier for me to hide when I wasn't with Eddie or my Dad. Jay and I even went to the airport to pick Anna up and then went out to dinner. I told Anna everything that had happened on the way back to the hotel. By that time Eddie was on stage. When we got back there was a note on the nightstand from Eddie.

Babe,

I don't know where you are, but I hope you make it to the concert tonight. I'm sorry for what I said last night. I don't want anyone else but you. You've been by myself since day one. You're the reason I made it as far as I did. I was a fucking dick, I'm sorry. I love you so damn much and I promise I'll change. The drink and partying will stop, I swear, just please be there tonight.

I love you,

Eddie xoxo

I didn't go to the concert, I waited for it to be over then went to meet him backstage. In no way was I going to forgive him so easily, we would need to talk about it, and he would need to start proving himself. I had a speech all worked out in my head. Security let me backstage just as Eddie finished his encore for the night. The guys were right behind him talking about the girls they wanted to bring backstage. "Hey, Eddie, what do you say? Party tonight all the way into the morning? Start in the green room and move to the club then back to the hotel."

Eddie didn't seem to be listening to them until Gareth nudged him. Eddie looked over at him and Gareth pointed over to where I was standing. Eddie looked up and I could see the tension leaving his shoulders. His big brown eyes looked at me in a way I haven't seen in quite a while. Full of adoration and love. He rushed over to me, wrapping me in his arms, and tried to kiss me but I turned my head so he kissed my cheek. "That's fair. I'm glad you came. I am so fucking sorry, sweetheart."

"I do not want to talk about this here and believe me, we have a lot to fucking talk about, Edward Munson." He flinched at me using his full name but nodded his head. "I know we do. I'm just glad you're here. I was worried you went home when I got back from my last interview and you were gone. But then I saw your bags were still there. Where'd you go?" Before I could say anything Jeff came over and clapped Eddie on the shoulder. "You comin', man? Oh, hey, yn." I didn't greet him, just stared at Eddie.

I prepared myself for Eddie to tell him he would be there in a minute and go out to do what he always does. I pulled away from him, putting distance between us, but he grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Nah, man, not tonight. I have a lot to make up for and make things right with my girl. You guys go ahead and have fun." Jeff nodded in understanding and joined the rest of the band and the girls they brought backstage. Eddie looked at me with a small smile. I pulled my hand out of his and walked away.

The security guard at the back entrance nodded at us and opened the door. Jay was right there waiting to take me to the car. Of course fans gravitated to the back of the building hoping to meet Eddie and the band. Lights started flashing and I blocked my eyes with my hand. Jay was right beside me, hiding me as best he could from the crowd.

"Bitch! You don't deserve him!" Came from somewhere in that crowd of fans and paparazzi. "Hey! I will not tolerate anyone being nasty to my girlfriend!" I turned around to look at Eddie, who had come to a dead stop. "I wouldn't have ever gotten this far if it wasn't for her or her dad, Jax Haxley! If you don't like her then don't consider yourself one of my fans!" He walked forward, past me and Jay, and opened the car door. I got into the backseat and Eddie followed.

After Jay shut the door he went around to the driver side and got us out of there. While we were driving away I saw an unwanted familiar face in the crowd. A face I haven't seen in years. Now I knew who the voice belonged to. Eddie was famous now and she wanted to try and come swooping in and get between us. "Did you see her?" I asked. Eddie looked over at me in confusion. "See who, baby?" I shook my head, "No one. Never mind."

"Want to get something to eat?" I shook my head again, "No. Me, Jay, and Anna went to dinner," I said. "Oh, Anna's here? Is that where you went today?" He asked. I sighed and took a deep breath. "No, Eddie, I went to Miami and went shopping then we picked Anna up and went to dinner. When we got back to the hotel and I read your note, I debated whether or not to even show up. You really didn't see her?"

I was questioning a lot right now. What if she's the real reason he's always out partying and not coming back until the wee hours of the morning. I can't say I'm surprised that she's shown up. I knew she would eventually. "Sweetheart, who are you talking about?" He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. "Who did you see?" He asked. "Stacy, Eddie. I'm talking about Stacy."

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lovebugism · 3 months ago

Note

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so.

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play.

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door.

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.”

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure.

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe.

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

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vapekingg · 8 months ago

Text

You and Eddie have this running joke.

Or at least it started as a joke.

Once Corroded Coffin started to take off, it was hard to not get jealous. All those pretty girls throwing themselves at him at every show. They'd wait at the merch table or near the back door where the band smokes their cigarettes. Even with you hanging off of his arm, they were relentless.

So Eddie started finding you before they could find him.

You liked being in the crowd during their sets. Some of the guys' girlfriends would sit sidestage, some of them would stay in the green room, but you preferred the energy of the show. Eddie always made sure you were front row, center stage. That way he could always find you.

He made a big deal out of it, too. Pointing you out every night during their last song and handing you a VIP laminate that would get you backstage. To all of these new faces, you were just another face in the crowd. It became a thing amongst their fans. Who would be the lucky girl tonight?

But it was always you.

Because you're his favorite groupie, aren't you?

That's what Corroded Coffin's security team started calling you. Jokingly, of course. But it's carried over.

"You know why you're my favorite fucking groupie?" Eddie hisses close to your face.

You can't respond. He knows you can't respond. If it weren't for both of his hands wrapped around your throat, then because he's got your legs folded up against your chest with your ankles next to his ears. Eddie's thrusts are relentless, his cock punching into your guts with brutality, and you can't make a fucking sound.

"Because you can fucking take it," he continues, punctuating the last two words with particularly rough assaults.

Your face is getting warm from the blood pooling in your head. Your brain is pounding in your temples with each stroke of his thick cock against your slick inner walls. You need to scream, but the wail trapped in your lungs sits right below Eddie's fists at the base of your throat.

"Oh, you have something to say? Didn't lose your voice screaming my name all night?" His voice is beginning to sound far off beneath the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears. "Fuck, you feel good. Squeezing my cock, baby. Don't worry, I'm gonna let you sing."

Your throat is released and Eddie's fingers slide beneath your head, weaving into your hair. A rush of air enters your lungs, and then you hear your own foul sounds.

The sound of begging, of pleading, of crying for him to never stop, to give you more.

"Please, Eddie. Please, harder, harder, harder!" Are the only words you can remember.

And you expect Eddie to mock you. He usually does, and it's usually the final nail in your coffin. What you don't expect is the tightening of his ringed fingers against your roots. He holds your head in place and spits on your face, silencing you for only a moment.

"You know this is when you're the prettiest?" Eddie says between gritted teeth.

With the blood flowing back to your brain, you begin to hear everything again. His little grunts and moans hidden by heavy breathing, the slapping of his sweat slick skin against yours, the creaking of his tour bus bunk bed. It all comes together like some sort of symphony of filth.

"When you're all fucked out. Makeup fucked, sweaty, my spit dripping down your face. You'll be even prettier with my cum leaking out of this pussy."

Your back arches into him at the mention of Eddie filling you up. He doesn't do it often. You're careful most of the time. But on special occasions... the risk is worth it.

Eddie laughs at your response, his cock pumping into your cunt faster.

"That what you want? Me to fill you up?" He asks mockingly.

That knot in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie's hips rut against your sensitive clit, stroking it in time with each thrust.

"Then everyone will know you're my favorite groupie, huh?"

Eddie's hips hit your core, his cock buried to the hilt, and he grinds his waist against your clit. Stars dot your vision. Every atom in your body shivers on the edge of oblivion.

"Won't they?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #stranger things smut #my writing

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fairylights-throughthemist · 2 months ago

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Recommended fics (still updating <3)

Eddie Munson

Evil Woman, Don’t You Play Your Games With Me by @wheels-of-despair

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader by @munsonsmixtapes

Eddie x Cheerleader!Reader by @lovebugism

HC’s by @georgeweasleyslostearhq

Say Anything by @earthlyangelbby

”I was expecting a written apology but this is so much better.” by @lovebugism

Pussydrunk Eddie by @keeryhours

Tangled by @taintandviolent

Modern!Eddie by @munscavi

Sugar by @losingmygrasponreality

On the Line by @roanniom

tickle by @mylliy

ALIBI by @georgeweasleyslostearhq

The Proposal by @wheels-of-despair

hold my heart and watch it burn by @oneforthemunny

Jerk Off by @spookyscarydemonbabe

Knock by @wheels-of-despair

this fic by @lovebugism

crazy-mad for you by @bangaveragewhitewine

Tender Lover by @i-hate-people-1

Insatiable by @wheels-of-despair

snoop by @heart-eyed-love

this fic by @eddiesghxst

this fic by @lovebugism

Moment of Truth by @wheels-of-despair

Caught by @ashwhowrites

Compliments by @roanniom

asking dealer!Eddie to take your virginity by @electrosuite

hot n’ heavy by @chelseeebe

Possessive!Eddie x Reader by @scoopsahoy

All revved up and ready to go by @strangerstilinski

Billy still doesn’t know by @munsonsmixtapes

“Do The Things You Said You’d Do To Me” by @scarlet-bitch

ice cold by @munsonify

Boxer!Eddie x Reader by @oneforthemunny

Full of Surprises by @vampireimiko

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #cowboy!eddie #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #rockstar!eddie munson

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munsonsmixtapes · 3 months ago

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What a Lovely View

rockstar!eddie x wife!reader

summary: You and Eddie go on a Christmas vacation after weeks of not seeing each other and make up for lost time.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex, spanking, breeding kink

You and Eddie enter the apartment where you’ll be staying for the next week for Christmas. This year, you’ve decided to have some time to yourselves since he’s been on tour and you’ve been working a lot because of the holidays.

You look around as you roll your suitcase further into the apartment and can’t help but gasp at how large and prettily decorated it is. There’s a giant Christmas tree in the living room against the giant window that looks out over the city. The tree with all the pretty lights outside behind it makes for such a picturesque view.

Eddie stands behind you, resting his hands on your waist as his chin sits atop your shoulder, a contented sigh passing through his lips as he does so. He’s missed you so much and being here with you for some much needed alone time is all he’s been thinking about for weeks.

Honestly, all he’s been thinking about is fucking you ok every single surface in the apartment and he intends to do so since you have all well. He hadn’t realized how much he needed your touch until he hugged you at the airport. Having you in his arms, holding your closing, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, he was rock hard right then and there. It took everything in him to not take you to the nearest restroom and have his way with you.

But now he can so he takes the opportunity when he sees your exposed neck. He presses his lips to it gently at first, but when he hears you hum, he goes full force, sucking on the skin, his fingers curling into your waist as your shirt bunches up, exposing some skin where eddie is quick to find purchase as you tilt your head to the side to give him more room to work.

“Eddie,” you moan. “Almost forgot how good you are with your mouth.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he mumbles against your skin before turning you around to face him, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. His hands move up your shirt while yours fist his as his tongue explores your mouth, both of your moaning as you do so.

You’re making up for lost time as you take off each other’s clothes, the garments flying across the room as you’re both so desperate to see each other naked. It’s been months and having only the company of your hands while you video chat isn’t exactly ideal even though it often does the trick.

“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I remember, Eddie breaths, taking in your naked body as his pulls you to him. You can feel his rock hard cock against you as he kisses you again, making you feel dizzy.

“Need you inside me,” you tell him as you grab his waist, pushing his cock against you even more. Eddie presses his lips to yours as he backs you up to the window and pounds into you as he grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, thrusting in and out of you as you buck your hips against his.

The window is nothing but cold against your back, but you actually think it feels kind of nice since you’ve gotten so hot with Eddie’s body against yours. His fingers are digging into your waist and even though it hurts like hell, you don’t dare stop him. It feels too good.

“That’s it, baby,” he says. “Just like that. See? After a few months, we’ve still got it. God, you feel so good. Kept it loose for me, huh? So I was able to slide right in? How thoughtful of you.”

“You’ve helped me get off every single night we’ve been apart. You should have known it’d be like this.” He rams into you so hard that you hit the window again, your head also hitting the window. But you couldn’t care less. All you want is for him to do this until you feel like absolute jelly in his arms.

“I should have,” he rasps. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?”

“Always,” you reply as your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your cunt clenching around his cock as he holds it there, all of him inside you as he’s finally gotten the last bit in.

“God, wanna fill you up so good, baby. Wanna make you a mother.” This doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You and Eddie have spoken multiple times about how you want to have children and you can’t think of a better time to actually have your first.

“Then make me a mother,” you tell him and he goes even harder, his thrusts more frequent and hard, eliciting moan after moan from you.

“So fucking pretty,” Eddie says as his lips find yours, pushing you even more against the glass as he turns his head to the side. You orgasm into his mouth as his tongue finds its way into your own mouth, swirling around yours and his hands find their way to your ass, digging into the skin and you really hope he leaves marks. “You’re gonna be so hot with your stomach getting bigger. God, I’m getting hard just thinking about it sweetheart.”

He pulls you away from the window and brings you over to the couch where he lies, you collapsing on top of him with a gasp. You’re flat on top of him and his hands find their way to your ass, digging his nails into your cheeks as his lips find yours again before giving it a hard slap.

You gasp into his mouth and he can’t help but grin as he does it again, harder this time before massaging it to soothe the pain. You want him to do more, but know that he never wants to actually hurt you so you straddle his waist and begin to ride him as a thank him for fucking your brains out only moments earlier.

“Gonna make such a good mom, swear to god,” he breathes. “I’m gonna be a good dad, right?”

“Of course you are, Ed,” you tell him as your hips roll against his. “You’re gonna be a great dad. Amazing, even.”

“Always say everything I want to hear, don’t you sweetheart?” He winks as hips buck against yours and his fingers dig further into your ass cheeks with so much force that you swear you’re going to bleed. But that’s the least of your worries. Eddie already looks fucked out and you smile to yourself with pride at your boyfriend who’s eyes are definitely rolling into the back of his head and you’ve barely even done anything.

You hold onto his shoulders as you pick up the pace, waiting to get to what you were doing before, wanting to make him feel as good as he made you feel. He continues to buck his hips against yours and maybe it’s because you haven’t done this in weeks or maybe it’s all the traveling you’ve done all day, but you feel like the both of you don’t have the energy or stamina that you used to.

“Fuck fuck fuck, baby,” he moans as he reaches his orgasm and bucks his hip against yours one last time before his back hits the couch. You lie on top of him, the two of you out of breath and he doesn’t bother pulling out as he wants to be as close to you as possible.

He flips you over and pulls out, lowering himself down to your stomach, peppering it with kisses, telling you how much he loves you and that even though he just came inside of you, that he doesn’t care if you wind up pregnant or not. He’s still going to love you for the rest of his life. And you feel the exact same way about him.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie #husband!eddie

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mystra-midnight · 11 months ago

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— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?"

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed.

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside.

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends.

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself.

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect.

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you.

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely.

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact.

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him.

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush.

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape.

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you.

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

—interest in being tagged in future chapters? send me a message!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x innocent!reader #call me little sunshine #call me little sunshine - part one

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lokis-army-77 · 20 days ago

Note

Hi 👋

I had a smut idea about a modern version of Rockstar!Eddie. Corroded Coffin is just taking off so of course Eddie interacts with fans through social media, answering dms and liking fanart. One day Eddie gets a dm from Virgin!Reader, asking him if he can take her virginity. At first Eddie is very unsure about it until he learns more about Reader and agrees. How does that sound?

Drunken Texts

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Virgin!fem reader

Word Count: 5.6k

You drunkenly DM the Eddie Munson asking him to be your first.

Warning: 18+ I will block you if you are under 18 or have no age in your blog. oral (f & m receiving), p in v, fingering, virginity taking.

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs, @xxladymjxx, and @emma-munson

AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I started my masters program and have kinda been in a slump lately, but I am so happy that I finished this for you @randomreader1999 I was determined bc you have read and liked literally everything I have ever posted and I love you!

Masterlist

Eddie scrolled through his DMs in the dark of the tour bus. He loved to answer fans, even if his manager told him it wasn’t a good idea. The rockstar life was brand new to him and he couldn’t help wanting to have a relationship with his fans. He knew he would have loved for his idol to message him back when he was once a nobody, so he was only doing what he thought would be great fan service.

It wasn't until he clicked on your message that his heart skipped a beat.

Hiii Eddie

I know this iis a weird thing to ask but… woul dyou take my virginity???

His mouth hung open, shocked at what he was seeing. Sitting there, he battled with what he should do. Did he just leave it on read or maybe turn down the poor girl as politely as he knew how?

Then, he saw that little green dot next to the profile picture and all of a sudden Instagram was telling him you were in the chat.

He freaked out even more when he saw the bubble appear, signaling you were typing.

Oh my god!!

Please ignore that

I wasn't exactly sober when I sent it to you

Eddie chucked at the speed at which your messages came in. You were definitely freaking out on the other side. So he decided to answer and put you at ease.

It's alright

Mistakes happen, believe me

He watches as your typing bubble appears once more.

Oh my god, you actually answered me.

I'm going to fucking die

Please don't think I'm a creep, I promise I'm not!!

I didn’t think you would see that

Eddie shakes his head, a bemused expression washing over his face. Deciding it was late, he turned his phone off and set it aside. Sleep comes fast. It usually did, not only because Eddie could fall asleep anywhere, any time, but life on a tour bus–performing in a new town almost every night–was exhausting, especially for someone who was still new to the rockstar world.

When Eddie awoke the next morning, the first thing he did was grab his phone. Opening it, he was still in the chat with you. He laughed through his nose softly as he reread your messages. He should have clicked out and gone about his day, but for some reason, he wanted to continue talking with you.

So, as he climbed from his bunk, he texted you back once more.

Hey

Hope you didn’t die

…..

The ding from your phone caught your attention, pulling you away from typing on your computer. It was muscle memory that had you reaching for the device and pressing on the notification before even looking to see what it was, too confident it was either your best friend/roommate or your mother who always seems to be in your business.

But as you look at the message, your eyes widen and your face heats with embarrassment. It was neither your mother nor your roommate… No, it was Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, who had been witness to your most epic blunder.

“Fuck!” The curse echoes through the apartment. Why is he messaging me? Again? Your heart thuds in your chest. Should you answer him back? Should you just ignore it? You had no clue what to do as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“What’s all the yellin’ about?”

You startle when a voice calls out from the front door. Looking up, you see your roommate, Robin, taking her shoes off.

“Hey, Rob. I’m actually going to fucking die. Like you need to find a new best friend because I am no longer here.”

She walks into your room and leans on the door frame, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Normally, I’m the dramatic one… What’s happened?”

You can’t help but nervously laugh and rub the back of your neck with a sweaty hand.

“Oh my god, what did you do? You have that look!” She gasps and points a finger at you.

“What? I don’t have a look.” You defend.

“Oh, yes, you do. You have this guilty look when you do something bad.” She argues, stepping further into your room. “Tell me what you did or I’ll hit you.” She makes a hard swipe at your shoulder.

Instinctively, you go to hold your assaulted arm. “Ow! What the fuck Rob!”

“Tell me or I’ll do it again.”

“Okay, okay! No need to get violent. Sheesh.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your chair to face her as she sits on the edge of your bed.

“So remember when we went out drinking the other night and I got all sad drunk on you because I’ve never had sex, let alone been in a relationship?”

She squinted her eyes, trying to determine where you were going with this.

“And then you told me to just shoot my shot?” Well, drunk me apparently thought DMing my celebrity crush “Take my virginity” was a good fucking idea.”

Robin gasps, hand covering her mouth. “Oh babe, you did not…”

“Oh, wait, it gets worse.” You clap your hands together. “He fucking messaged me back. Twice! He probably thinks I'm a weirdo, maybe a stalker? I can never show my face in public again!”

“Alright, just calm down for a second.” Robin stands from her spot on the bed and stands in front of you with her hand out. “Let me see the damage.”

Reluctantly, you hand her the phone. She’s doing an awful lot of humming while looking at the short yet mortifying conversation.

“Why do you keep humming like that?” You ask. She's making you nervous.

She looks over the top of the phone at you and then back down. “I think he’s trying to start a conversation with you. Why else would he respond after seven hours? He actually might be flirting.”

You look at her horrified. “Robin, I highly doubt he is flirting with the crazy nobody who drunk texted him at 2 a.m. on a Saturday. If anything he’s trying to get information on me for a restraining order! I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Babe, you–and I can’t stress this enough–need to take a chill pill. Sure, you asked rising rock sensation Eddie Munson to take you to Pound Town, but the man is into it. He wouldn’t text you again if he wasn’t. If anything, he would have deleted the DM and gone about his day, he probably gets hundreds of texts just like it and there is just something about you that is reeling him in. In my expert opinion-”

“I’m sorry, expert?”

“Yes, expert. Now shut up. I think you should go with it. Text him back, flirt it up, because who knows what could happen? Maybe one day he’ll follow through on your request.” Robin is giving you a manic smile, one that has an idea behind it.

You squint your eyes at her, deciphering what she could be thinking. “Robin. No, don’t you dare.”

She yelps, shocked at the way you grab for your phone. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, don’t do whatever it is you are thinking of doing!” You stand, reaching for the phone again. That’s when she bolts. “Robin! Come back here!”

“I’m doing you a favor! You’ll thank me later! Trust me!”

You chase after her through the apartment. Your poor downstairs neighbors probably think a herd of horses is running around above them.

“I really don’t trust you, Rob! Give me the phone!”

“You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands!” She screams as she makes a run for her room, slamming the door behind her. You catch up fast, pushing on the door and entering without a problem. She’s nowhere to be seen.

“Rob? Where are you?” You ask, knowing she can only be in one of two places in the room. She’s either shoved herself under her bed or in the back of her closet.

So, you stop and listen. You can hear the faintest of tapping sounds as her fingers furiously type away on your phone and it’s coming from under the bed. Diving to the floor, you pull the bed skirt away and see her lying there.

“Robin, I swear to god, I'm going to kill you. Give me the goddamn phone.” You grab at her ankle and pull. She begins to scream and you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous situation.

“Stop! Stop or I swear I’ll send the message!”

You stop pulling but you don’t let go.

“How do I know you won’t just send it?”

“You have to trust me.”

Sighing, you shake your head. “This situation has destroyed my trust in you. Slide me the phone and I’ll let you go.”

“Are you negotiating with me?” The tone in her voice is almost offended.

“Yes, I am negotiating with you. Your life for my phone with an unsent message.”

Robin huffs, “Alright. Deal.” She slides the phone back to you and you let go of her foot, snatching your device off the floor.

She clambers out from under her bed but you can’t help but see the suspicious-looking face she’s making.

Hastily, you unlock your phone, and low-and-behold, there is a message from you, or rather Robin, to Eddie Fucking Munson.

Currently dying as we speak

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!” You jump forward, grab one of her many stuffed animals from her bed, and launch it full speed at her.

Robin ducks, laughing hysterically as she does so. “I’m so sorry!”

“No, you aren’t!” You throw another plushy.

She moves to grab what you’ve thrown off the floor and begins pelting them back at you. “You’re right, I’m not! I’m helping your love life!”

Soon, you both calm down, each of you falling flat onto Robin’s bed and laughing.

“I can not believe you did that.” You nudge her shoulder and she can’t help but giggle.

“I really am sorry, but where else are you going to get the opportunity to flirt with the guy you’ve liked since before he got famous?”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I actually hate that you’re right.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Unfortunately.” You groan as you stand up and begin to walk back to your room.

You’re greeted with another ding when you fall back into your desk chair. This time you check the notification. Eddie has messaged back and it has your nerves standing on end.

Could he really be flirting with you like Robin suggested? Is he like this with every girl who comes crawling into his DMs?

Against your better judgment, you open the message.

If you’re going to die, at least leave me something in your will.

That makes you laugh softly before typing back.

And what makes you think I’ve got something for you to have?

He answers quickly.

I’m sure you can think of something

No can do.

All of my belongings are going to the ole best friend

so you’ll have to take it up with her

Dang, I was really hoping for something to remember you by.

I guess these messages will have to suffice ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You catch yourself biting your lip, a blush blooming on your face.

Maybe you could think of something for me to give you…

What you were doing was a slippery slope. The ellipsis at the end of the sentence insinuates something less than innocent. You just couldn’t help it, Robin was right, he was flirting with you and obviously, your very forward first message didn’t deter him, so what was the harm in being a little risky?

The three little dots appear as Eddie types. Then they stop and start again over and over. It makes your stomach flip. Maybe you shouldn’t have been suggestive.

Oh I might have something

Your heart beat faster.

And what’s that?

I couldn’t help but go through your profile and I’m guessing you live in New York

Are you coming to the CC concert in a few days?

You aren’t too sure what he’s getting at but you answer him anyway.

Tickets were sold out in like five minutes, so unfortunately I’m not coming.

He’s quick to respond.

Well, we can't have that.

What if I put you on the VIP list? Would you come?

Are you sure? You don’t have to do that, it’s too much.

Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn't.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of what you should say. ‘No’ would be the best answer, the safe answer but ‘yes’ was exciting and what you wanted to say deep down. After a game of mental tug-of-war, you finally begin to type.

Alright, I’ll be there.

Great. The VIP entrance is on the north side of the venue, I'll be waiting for you.

……

The Corroded Coffin concert wasn’t for a few hours but with a mix of anxiety and excitement, you had gotten ready and made the long trek to the venue quicker than you thought you would. Luckily there was a tall man, most likely security, standing in front of what Eddie said would be the VIP doors.

He spots you as you walk closer, his arms crossed and his eyes squint at you with suspicion. Taking a deep breath, he speaks, “Can I help you?”

“I know I’m early but I should be on the VIP list.” The statement came out sounding more like a question than you had wanted it to.

“I think you have the wrong place, there’s no VIP for this concert.”

You turn your head to look back down the street and then back to the man in front of you. “This is the Corroded Coffin venue, isn't it?”

He nods, “Yeah, it is.”

Before he could continue, theres a ringing that interrupted him. Pulling his phone out he takes a glance at the screen before his eyes snap back to you. “What’s your name?”

You give it to him and before you can ask what’s happened, he steps back and opens the door. As he waives you inside, he says, “Eddie’s down the hall, to the right, and through the only red door.”

The area backstage is as grungy as expected with its black-painted cinderblock walls covered in hundreds of stickers and graffiti. The band’s equipment fills the space making the path around it extremely narrow. You squeeze past amps and instruments and step over loose cords on your way to the door where you were told Eddie would be waiting.

It’s easy to find the red door. It sits at the end of the hall one bright light shining overhead, like it’s beckoning you forward, enticing you.

You can’t help the nerves you feel, your heart pumping faster and faster, the lump in your throat. It all gets worse when you knock on the door and hear a muffled, “Yeah?”

Taking that as your cue to go in, you open the door slowly. Eddie is sitting there on a black leather couch face buried in his phone. He looks up only slightly before he moves his gaze back down only to do a fast double-take when he realizes who you are.

“Oh shit, I didn’t think you would be here this early.” He sets his phone down on the arm of the couch before standing and walking toward you.

“Why? Waiting on another girl to show up before me, trying to worm your way into someone else's will?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head, “No, yours is the only one I’m trying to get written into at the moment.”

You can’t help the sheepish smile. “Ah, so I’m the only one for now but there will be others.”

“We’ll see,” Eddie winks, moving back to his seat on the couch.

Silence falls between the two of you. Nervously you begin to flit your eyes around the small room, fingers plying with the hem of your shirt.

“You can sit if you’d like, I won’t bite.” Eddie motions for you to sit beside him and slowly you make your way over.

Your skirt rides up and the leather of the cushion feels sticky against the backs of your legs, but it doesn’t distract you from how nervous you have become being in direct contact with one of your biggest crushes.

“You okay?”

Nodding stiffly, you respond, “Yeah, I’m good.”

He takes your hand, and the warmth radiating off him makes you feel more at ease. The nervousness slowly dissipates as you get lost in his deep brown eyes. “You seem a bit nervous, I swear I just wanted to hang out with you, no funny business,” he raised his right hand, holding up three fingers, “Scout's honor.”

Laughing, you say, “I believe you! It’s just that you’re you and I’m me.”

“You say that like I’m some kind of celebrity.”

“But you are. And it’s kinda intimidating.”

Edde laughs loudly, “Me? I’m intimidating? What about sweet ol’ me intimidates you?”

You can’t help but giggle, entranced by his liveliness. “I don’t know, probably everything?” You motion up and down at him.

“Oh come on!”

“No, really!”

He looks at you, eyebrows raised quizzically.

“I’m just shy, and you seem to exude confidence.”

“Na, that’s only on stage sweetheart. Think of it as an act.”

The longer the conversation went, the more comfortable you became. Eddie was no longer this scary rockstar sitting before you but a regular charismatic guy. Your posture was no longer rigid as you sat curled up on the couch. Eddie had gotten closer but he was still at a respectful distance.

You’re pulled from your chat when someone knocks on the door. When it opens, a short blond woman is standing with a clipboard clutched in her hand and her finger pressed to a button on the side of her headset. As she spoke into her mic she waved her clipboard at Eddie, beckoning him to come with her.

Eddie checks his phone and stands within a second. “Looks like it’s show time. Follow Chris here and she’ll lead you to the barricade. I’ll see you after?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ll see you when the show’s over!”

……

The venue isn’t big but it feels like thousands of people are cramped into the tiny space. You’re thankful to be at the barricade where you at least have no one crowded in front of you, even if you are being squished against the metal railing.

The crowd is rowdy, chanting for the band to come out. Their screams only become louder once the lights dim and the squeal of a guitar erupts over the speakers. Your heart is in your throat as you make out the band filing onto the stage in the almost pitch blackness.

Then, in an instant, the spotlight comes on and Eddie steps forward as he plays the opening riff to their newest song.

The way his fingers dance across the frets is making you clench your legs. If his fingers could play that fast, what else were they capable of?

As he begins to strut across the stage, lyrics flow past his lips carried by a deep, sensual tune. His eyes catch yours in the crowd and from that point on, you were entranced. Your eyes never left his. No longer were you surrounded by a crowd, separated by a stage and a metal barrier. No, you were right next to him. You could feel him, his warmth, and the way his breath fanned over your face as he sang.

The concert went by with you bewitched, like a sailor hearing a siren song. Eddie seduced you with his words and movements until you were almost a puddle on the floor.

Finally, when the lights went down and the crowd filed out, a security guard came to escort you backstage once more.

The atmosphere had changed from the light-friendly one that had been there hours before. Now the air in the small room was charged. You felt the air crackling as you ended, goosebumps rose on your arms as Eddie greeted you. His eyes were filled with something more than friendliness.

Your tongue felt heavy as you tried to speak and your mouth felt dry even as saliva pooled in response to the sweaty mess that stood in front of you.

It’s like your body went into autopilot, your mind swirled as you stepped toward Eddie. Your hips swung sensually and once you were close enough to him, you reached a handout and pushed him back onto the couch.

He landed with a “humph”. His eyes followed you as you slowly fell to your knees.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

You look up at him though through lidded eyes. “I meant what I said the other night.” Your hands glide up his thighs, fingers barely tracing over the bulge underneath the zipper. “I want you to take my virginity.”

Eddie catches your hands. “You sure about that? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to.”

Sighing, you lean into his space, “I’m so sure.”

With nimble fingers, you unhooked the button of his leather pants, the zipper moved down on its own thanks to Eddie’s stiff cock pressing against the tight fabric.

You can't stop your mouth from salivating when you see he isn’t wearing underwear. He lifts his hips, helping you to pull his pants down. Your eyes widen at how massive he is. Eddie smirks when you look up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t worry baby, you can take it.”

You aren’t quite sure you can. He’s intimidating, especially for your first time, but he soothes you with gentle, calloused fingers brushing your cheek, pulling you to him.

With a quivering lip, you open your mouth, tongue pushing forward–waiting eagerly to taste him. You can’t help the lewd moan that erupts from the depths of your throat once Eddie’s cock is placed on your wet muscle. He’s warm, hot almost, and the bead of white at his slit tastes weird.

Your eyes meet his when you look up at him, the once-milk chocolate of his irises had turned pitch black as he watched. Slowly you close your lips around him and begin to bob up and down along his length.

“Oh- oh fuck.” Eddie choked out. His hand flew to the top of your head, harshly tugging on the strands of hair. It sent a delicious sting down your spine and a pulsing throb through your cunt.

You keep going, the whimpering moans erupting from Eddie the only encouragement you needed. His mouth is spewing filthy words, ones that would have any grandmother clutching her pearls, but no, they spur you on, had wetness soaking into your underwear. You were afraid if he didn't stop, you'd cum without having been touched.

“God damnit, your mouth is so fucking good, Baby. Fuck.” Eddie’s fingers grip tighter and his hips start to tick upward, shoving him further into your throat. You can’t stop the gag that comes at the intrusion. Pulling away a line of spit still connects your mouth to him. You take a moment to breathe, the sight of Eddie's flushed face and dark eyes fueling your desire. He looks down at you, a mixture of awe, concern, and raw need in his expression.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him once you catch your breath. “I just wasn’t expecting that,” you laugh a little.

The two of you sit there for a moment, chests heaving and eyes wandering, until Eddie begins to move. He grabs hold of your arm, pulling you up and into him, his lips press to yours and you melt into him. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds before he is trailing down, tongue smoothing over your jaw and he attaches against the soft skin of your neck. The sucking you feel is a weird sensation but not at all unpleasant.

Goosebumps appear in the wake of Eddie’s fingers as they travel down your arms and to the hem of your shirt. He tugs on it slightly, prompting you to pull away so he can slip the top over your head. Deft fingers work at your bra strap as he starts kissing over your shoulder and chest, stopping to suck and nip where he pleased.

“Eddie,” you sigh.

He hums in acknowledgment.

“Need more. Please I need more.”

Without a word, he breaks away and pushes you onto your back. His hands are hot as they travel over your legs and under the pleats of your skirt. Your breath hitches in your throat when Eddie begins to drag your panties down your legs.

Embarrassment flushes over you when his eyes lay upon your needy cunt. No one has ever seen you like this, vulnerable with all your most intimate parts on display. You can’t help but shy away, gazing anywhere but at Eddie.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen,” he remarks as he leans closer. His tongue slips past his lips, tasting the wetness gathering at your folds. A primal moan escapes him as he begins to lap at you, drinking you in. His fingers splay over your thighs, pulling you closer as he eats you like a man starved.

“Oh! Oh fuck-” You can't help the exclamation. The feeling of his wet muscle sliding over your clit in just the right way, at just the right rhythm. Your hands grip at anything they can, trying to keep you from floating away.

You felt so good. He felt so good. Ecstasy flowed through your veins like rushing rapids, untamed and strong. Zaps of electricity could be felt throughout your body as he ate you up.

Thick fingers tease at your entrance and your legs instantly snap shut. Eddie uses his other hand to pry your thighs from around his head. “Keep ‘em open sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered and seized when one of his digits easily slipped into you. You could feel yourself clenching around him, it wasn't enough, you needed more, needed him to stretch you out further.

“Eddie- Eddie please,” you gasp. “More!”

He hums into your cunt, the vibrations make your back arch off the sticky leather of the couch. Within seconds of your demand, Eddie is slipping a second finger inside you. You can feel the sharp cold from his rings as they come into contact with your hot skin and his thick fingers curling into you.

All that could be heard in the room were the wet sounds of the rockstar feverishly finger fucking you and the gasping moans you let out every time he licked you just right or his fingers brushed just against a sensitive spot.

Eddie removed himself from your clit with a ‘pop’, the cool air that rushed over the wetness made you shiver. “Look so fuckin’ pretty all splayed out for me, Baby. What do say we kick it up a notch hum?” He asks, voice sickly sweet.

“Yes, fuck- yes.” You agree, body thrumming with anticipation.

Slowly, he removed his fingers from you. You blushed as you watched him bring the digits to his mouth, tongue licking the remnants of you off them. “You taste so fucking good. God, I want to be between your legs forever.”

His words did something to you. Your pulse quickened and your cunt fluttered, emotions went feral inside of you. It took all your energy not to pull him into you at that moment.

“Fuck me,” you spoke, just above a whisper.

“What was that, baby?”

“I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Please, I need to feel you inside me, pounding into me. Make it so I feel you for days after I leave, I need it, I want it so bad, please.” It might have sounded desperate but you didn’t care. It was the last thing on your mind. You were so close to having him, you could just taste it and it was driving you crazy.

“Oh yeah? Want my fat fucking cock inside that tight cunt? Stretching you out, ruining you for anybody else? Hum? Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you beg, “yes, please. Want your cock in me now.”

“Alright, Sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want.”

Eddie’s large hands splayed over your hips, pulling you into the position he wanted. You watched in awe as he brought the angry red tip of his cock to your drooling cunt, gliding it through your folds and pushing it gently inside.

He was so big, just the tip of him was stretching you farther than you ever had been before. Your hips careened away from him but he held your steady.

“Not gonna hurt you, just gonna take it slow until I get all the way in,” He spoke gently, soothingly.

Nodding, you take a deep breath, trying to relax as he pushes into you inch by glorious inch.

A loud cry sounds in your throat as he bottoms out. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a fierce ache erupts in your abdomen.

Eddie grunts, pulling back slowly, just an inch before he pushes back inside. The tip of him presses into you, coaxing the fire in your belly. It’s only been a few minutes but you want more, you want it harder, faster, less careful. You wanted to be fucked. You wanted to know what it was like to not be able to walk straight after, wanted to experience life-altering sex with the man of your dreams.

“More,” you mewl. “More, Eddie, I want more!”

His hips pick up pace in answer his movements becoming more urgent as he responds to your plea. The room fills with the sounds of your mingled moans and the rhythmic creak of the couch. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cling to him, lost in the sensation, as he fulfills your deepest desires.

You could feel it, a little tingling in your tummy as he fucked you deep and raw. Something you had never experienced before, not even when you had come by yourself. You were building up fast, causing your body to shake and your toes to curl as you tried to hold it off, but it was no use. You were tipping over the edge within a second.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream, head flung back into the cushion. Your chest rose in the air and Eddie held you tightly, his thrusts coming short and fast as he worked you into your rapture. “Eddie! I’m- I- I’m- Oh shit. Oh, holy shit. I’m about to-”

“I know. Can feel you squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.” His arms flex as he holds you steady against his assault.

Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, every muscle in your body contracting with intense pleasure. Eddie continues to move within you, prolonging your ecstasy until you collapse back on the couch, utterly and completely spent. He follows soon after, his release warm on your stomach, leaving you both breathless and sated.

Laying there, you couldn’t believe what had just happened. You had just fucked the Eddie Munson… Not just fucked, you let him be your first. Who knew a drunken text could lead to something as inconceivable as having a literal rockstar fuck you until you were seeing stars.

You could feel Eddie shifting, and you opened your eyes to see him looking down at you. His lips moved, but you could hear no sound. Your heart was racing, and the blood was pumping too loudly in your ears for you to make out what he was saying.

“Huh?”

Eddie just shook his head, a smirk forming on those kiss-swollen lips. He stood from the couch, careful not to put his weight on you.

You watched him closely as he pulled his pants up his thighs and walked to a black duffel bag in the corner. He rummaged through it for a moment before coming back, a green and white package of baby wipes in tow. Taking one out he slowly wiped at the mess you had both made, cleaning you gently.

By the time he finished, the rushing in your ears had stopped. “Thank you,” you said as you sat up, pulled your skirt down, and searched for your bra and shirt.

“You don’t have to thank me, Sweetheart. Any decent person offers aftercare.” He bends down, grabs the garments you were looking for, and hands them to you.

Shaking your head, you say, “Not just for that, Eddie, for everything. I was mortified when I noticed those drunk texts, I still kinda am, but I’m glad you didn’t just block me and move on.”

“‘S’all right, I actually thought it was cute.”

“You did not… It’s so embarrassing.” You bury your face in your hands blushing as red as you possibly could.

“Oh, but I did. I wouldn’t have entertained the conversation with you if I hadn’t.”

“Mmm, okay then.” You shake your head. Standing up, you grab your stuff and look back at Eddie. “I guess I should go now, you probably have somewhere to be.” Taking a step toward him, you were going to kiss him on the cheek but thought better of it. Somehow that felt more intimate than the sex you had just had.

He caught your hand as you turned to go. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Looking back at him you spot your panties hanging from the index finger of his other hand. “Oh, sorry.” You reach to grab for them but he pulls them away.

You look at him, brow raised in confusion.

“On second thought, maybe I should keep them so I have an excuse to see you again?

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #rockstar eddie munson #virgin reader #female reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

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enam3l · 1 year ago

Text

love, lola chapter 10 preview

hi guys lol i am alive and i am trying to write again so as an apology here's a preview from the next chapter where the cat is finally out the bag!

September 25th 1986, Hawkins

Much like it had been almost a month ago for Eddie’s leaving party, your house is decorated in streamers and bunting. The dining room filled with the people you love except one in particular. Your name and the number ‘21’ swirl in lilac frosting on an overly ambitious cake Grams and Joyce made. Ten years ago, it would’ve been an activity she would’ve done with Eddie’s mom. The pair of them conjuring bizarre baked concoctions for yours and his conceding birthdays.

Your stomach growls looking at the frosted mountain, desperate for everyone to leave so you can subdue the ravenous little alien growing inside you and stuff your face with it. But that can’t happen yet, because all those people you love are gazing at you with hopeful eyes waiting for you to cut the cake. Steve and Gram’s had presented it to you seconds before, her smile glowing with candlelight whilst he looked at you with a knowing look of just do it already.

The knife passes from one hand to the other awkwardly as you decide what to do. You pass it back to your dominant hand, giving in to the watching smiling mob and begin to cut. Only half an inch in and you retract the knife and look up and stutter. Everyone’s faces twitch with confusion.

‘Urm, before I, y’know, cut the cake and stuff,’ you fumble gracelessly over your words, ‘there’s something I guess, I’d like to say to you all.’

Breathe in, breathe out. These people love you, they’re family.

‘It’s urm, well…’

From your peripheral you see Steve nodding slowly in encouragement.

‘I, umm… oh god, look I’m pregnant, okay?!’

You pull taught your dress to reveal the bump it had artfully hidden. Gram’s palm slaps her face at your rashness. Hopper chokes on his swig of beer whilst Joyce turns to him with wide eyes. Wayne stumbles back into his chair, instinctively clutching the front pocket where his cigarettes lie. Both Mike and Dustin stop mid-mouthful of food. Max and Lucas whip their heads round from their current bickering. Nancy pushes Jonathan’s poised camera down slowly, knowing this is not a moment anyone wants on record. Steve, ever your rock these days, comes straight to your side and places a soothing hand on your elbow.

Naturally, the only loud response screeches from Robin.

‘EW! WITH STEVE?!’

‘Oh excuse me, it's not EW!’ Steve begins to retaliate, already sick of this being the go to response. All eyes now shift to Steve who you elbow in the rib.

‘No, don’t be silly,’ a small soft voice interrupts, ‘it’ll be Eddie’s.’

All eyes, including your own, wide and with matching dropped jaws land on Eleven who sits with a content smile on her face. The assumption has sweating beading at your forehead. A wheeze comes from the corner of the room, you know who that is instantly.

‘It’s not!’ You plea, hands up to calm a very pale Wayne Munson, ‘it’s not Eddie’s, Wayne!’

You don’t notice the look of disappointment that flickers across several faces in the room.

‘Oh my god,’ Nancy gasps, ‘so is it Steve’s?’

Another ‘ew!’ wails from Robin, earning her a scolding look from her best friend.

‘Oh can we stop saying ew!’ Steve pleas with the room, ‘it is not my baby but you know what, she’d be lucky if it was, alright!’

‘Steve?!’

‘Steven!’

You, Joyce and Gram chastise causing him to raise his palms in surrender.

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final-girl96 · 2 years ago

Text

Stolen Hearts

Ao3

WATTPAD (23+ stories here)

Description

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTYONE

TWENTYTWO

TWENTYTHREE

TWENTYFOUR

TWENTYFIVE

TWENTYSIX

TWENTYSEVEN

TWENTYEIGHT

TWENTYNINE

THIRTY

THIRTYONE

THIRTYTWO

THIRTYTHREE

EPILOGUE

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ashwhowrites · 9 days ago

Note

Glad you're back 🩷

(Kinda blushing while i'm writing this)

What about Eddie with “You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?”

If you feel comfortable writing about it 🥲.

I thought of this upon reading the prompt but it's rockstar Eddie so I hope that's okay :) I hope you love it and thank you for requesting ❤️

On the road

Y/N tried to entertain her brain with TV as she slipped through every channel. Her skin was warm, sweat rolling down her chest, chill down her spine as she tried to relax.

But the familiar burn between her legs was becoming impossible to ignore. The wetness in her panties grows as time goes on. She cursed herself as she scrambled to grab her phone, dialing the number.

It rang a few times before his deep voice cut in, "I knew you'd need me."

She shivered at his voice, huffing as she proved him right. But the ache she felt was worth surrendering.

"Please be an ass later, I need you."

Eddie smiled on the other side, already walking to the couch in his hotel room as he undid his belt. "Spread those legs for me, underwear off."

She obeyed his words, underwear on the floor as she spread her legs open, hearing the sound of his jeans hitting the floor. She shivered as she heard him spit on his hand and the soft grunt he released as his hand met his aching cock.

"You're still horny? Didn't I fuck you hard enough last night?" Eddie teased, dimples popping in his cheeks as he jerked himself.

"Fuck, you did. It hurts to touch myself and I can feel my cunt bruised from you," she admitted as the pain increased as she rubbed her clit.

"Oh, so you just want to ask for another?" He asked, bucking his hips. She moaned as she circled her clit, agreeing over the phone.

"I'd never tell my girl no. Let's talk about last night, shall we? How fucking loud you were screaming under me. Ignoring the neighbors as they pounded on our walls."

Eddie knew he said the right thing as her breath shook. "You were so soaked around me, making a mess that I'd be forced to clean up with my tongue," he said, twisting around his tip as his thighs shook.

"Love how you feel inside me. I loved when you slid out and slammed back into me. Had me in every position."

"You were my good girl. Pussy was soaked for me, making it so easy to slide in and out. I love how you feel wrapped around me, so much better than my hand," Eddie moaned, wishing more than anything she was on her knees in front of him. Her pretty mouth wrapped around him as her eyes watered, forcing herself to take his cock all the way.

She whined in response, when it came to sex with Eddie her brain shut off. Eddie was a talker and she loved that it didn't change in the bedroom. Because she could listen to his dirty talk for hours, just rubbing herself to a shaking orgasm.

"You got a nice toy to use while daddy is away?" He asked, already knowing he bought her every sex toy he could find. He wanted her well taken care of when he was on the road. "I know you're all pathetic and can't talk so why don't you be a good girl and grab a thick toy that matches my cock, yeah?"

She bit her lip as she tore her hands away from her aching clit. Even though she felt relief, she wanted to rub herself again. But she listened, gushing at his degrading words as she reached into her night stand.

Without looking much, a dildo sat in her nightstand with a note on it, written in Eddie's handwriting. She wasn't sure if she hated or loved how much he knew her.

"Got it," she whispered, already plunging the toy inside of her. Moaning loudly as her insides gripped around it, welcoming the toy easily.

"Slut just loves to be stuffed full huh?" He teased, he took her whimpering on the other end as a yes. "Nice and slow at first. You know how I like to tease you."

She threw her head back in annoyance but listened. Slowly taking the toy out, sliding it up and down between her lips. Her wetness coated the toy, and she wished it was Eddie's cock.

"You gotta earn my cock, darling. And you know how," he demanded, his eyes closed as he pictured her. She blushes embarrassed but brought the toy up to her lips.

"Do I have to? It's kinda embarrassing," she whined. The tip of the dildo pressed against her bottom lip.

"You don't have to but then you aren't getting fucked," his voice was tense and held so much power that she could feel her wetness dripping down her thighs. "So are you going to choke on the toy or get dressed and move on with your day?"

"Such an ass," she groaned but opened her mouth. Eddie smiled as he could hear her sucking messily on the toy. His hips bucked, soaking in the sounds.

"You sound so much better when your mouth is full of cock," he said, smirking as he could imagine the pissed-off look on her face. "Keep going until I hear you gag and choke."

Y/N blushed, pushing the toy between her lips. She tried to ignore how turned on it made her as she sucked the toy off as if it was Eddie. She slowly built it up, finally gagging on the tip as it hit the back of her throat.

Eddie shivered as he heard the familiar sound, his body getting closer. "Good girl, now slip it inside of you. And don't remove it until I say."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #ashwhowrites #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie Munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar! eddie munson smut x female reader

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loveletterlore · 21 days ago

Text

captured moments ♡ e.m. x reader

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Corroded Coffin have just booked their first tour (kind-of), the reader wants to send eddie away with some gifts to remember what he's missing at home

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI smut, established relationship, use of pet names [princess, angel, baby], kissing, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, cream pie, dacryphilia, breeding kink (if you squint), taking photos during sex, straight up porn, reader is described to have breasts and vagina

word count: 2.9k

authors note: this is literally just porn with a plot, a fantasy that played out in my mind. i didn't think i was gonna be a smut writer but whoops, i guess this happened...

It was official as far as Eddie was concerned - he had made it. Corroded Coffin had booked their first official tour. Sure, it might have been a trail of local bars in Indianapolis, but to Eddie this was the start of the rest of his career.

He had been bursting at the seams, waiting for you to get home so he could tell you, excitement bubbling over. You had been ambushed as soon as you walked through the door, scooped up into his familiar arms.

“Babybabybabybaby guess what?” he sputtered into your ear, spinning you around.

“Eds- my bag-” you replied, feeling the strap fly off your shoulder and land on the table, knocking over a glass with a loud smash.

Eddie stopped still, eyes going wide as he looked at you with that toothy grin. “Sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Still want me to guess?”

“Yes, guess,” he bounced on his toes, curls rebounding with each movement.

“Umm-”

“We got booked for two weeks around the state!” Eddie threw his arms open, ever the showman.

Your mouth gaped open, corners turning upwards in a smile. “Eds, oh my god!! I’m so proud of you!!”

You rushed into his arms, squeezing around his chest as he enveloped you, the two of you bouncing up and down now. After a minute, you pulled away and placed your hands on his cheeks, studying the beaming smile looking down at you.

“I’m so proud of you Eds, you deserve this,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. “When is it?”

“Oh, um,” Eddie stopped, suddenly avoiding your gaze. “Well, it was kind of last minute so, um.”

“Eddie?”

“Next week,” he grimaced as he looked at you, expecting some form of annoyance in response.

“Next- next week,” you repeated, slight shock at the suddenness of the situation.

“I know it’s annoying, we had plans and everything, but I-”

“Eddie. It’s fine, I’ll be here when you get back,” you smiled, watching the tension drain from his face.

“You’re the best, did I ever mention that?” he reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.

“Maybe once or twice,” you lulled, resting your head on his chest.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wish I could take you with me, my number one fan.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t get distracted by those ‘lil groupies following you around. You send them to Gareth,” you smirked, reaching up to brush the curls out of his face.

He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offence, “Princess, how could I ever get distracted knowing exactly what’s waiting for me at home?” His voice dropped an octave as a smile pulled at his lips, leaning down to trap you in a kiss once again.

An idea erupted in your mind, sending a flirty expression to your face, “Maybe I’ll have to send you away with something to remind you what you’re missing.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Band practice the next day went smoothly, everyone sounded amazing and Eddie had finally mastered the guitar solo he had been practising for weeks. Pulling up in front of the trailer, he paused for a moment, considering. If these shows went the way he hoped, this could be the start of forever. He would take you on tour, show you the world, play to massive crowds every night and live his life exactly the way he wanted.

Giggling to himself he shut off the engine, throwing the door open and jumping out of the driver's seat. Strolling up the steps, his smile grew as he knew you were home, just behind the door.

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie sang as he opened the door, gliding through dramatically. Glancing around the room, there was a severe absence of you - no sign of activity, no music, nothing. Furrowing his brows, Eddie moved slowly through the trailer.

You weren’t in the bathroom, hiding under the table or lying across the sofa. Strange.

Reaching the bedroom, Eddie reached for the doorknob, pausing as a strange sensation of excitement tingled through his body.

Opening the door, his jaw dropped and heart skipped a beat.

You were laying on the bed, new, lacy underwear donned as you observed Eddie through long lashes. At your feet lay your polaroid camera, filled with a new set of picture paper.

“Oh, my, god,” Eddie groaned, not fully convinced that he wasn’t dreaming. He nearly dropped to his knees, worshipping the very sight before him.

“What do you say we make some memories to take with you?” your voice was sultry, the tone going straight to Eddie’s tightening pants.

Unable to make any words, Eddie nodded enthusiastically before pouncing on you, tongues and teeth clashing. His hands found your waist, squeezing and caressing the skin as he explored your mouth with his. A groan blossomed in his throat, the sound sending a flutter through your body.

You ran your hands along his lower abdomen, skimming the hem of his shirt before tugging. He pulled away long enough to yank it over his head, his eyes re-focusing on your chest. Diving, he began to nip at your breasts, biting then licking the marks he made.

“Gonna mark you up, show everyone you’re mine,” he growled, grinding his hips into yours. You moaned at his words, rocking your hips to meet his movement.

He continued to work on your body, focusing on making sure he didn’t miss a spot. Pulling away, he admired the sight before turning and picking up the camera. Leaning back on his knees, he aimed the camera, grinning and pressing the button. The picture printed, he shook the paper and growled at the sight, “Mine.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled his body back to yours and reunited your lips, running a hand through his hair and tugging slightly. His lips parted in a gasp and you took the opportunity to take his bottom lip between your teeth, teasing and pulling.

His knees were weak at the scent of you, sweet and tart and wanting. Sensing the fragility in his position, you flipped so that you were on top of him. Eddie whimpered as you broke the kiss, leaving a trail of pecks down his neck, chest and to the waistband of his jeans. You surprised yourself at how steady your hands were as you undid the button, Eddie lifting his hips so that you could shimmy them down his legs.

Delicately, you kissed his arousal through his boxers, a small wet patch growing in both of your garments at the sensation. Eddie’s breath hitched as his hips twitched up to meet your touch, his hand gliding through your hair.

Grinning at his reaction, you licked up his length over the fabric, watching as his eyes rolled backwards in pure pleasure. His hand tightened on your hair, grasping at any loose strands he could wrap his fingers in.

Sliding your fingertips under the waistband, Eddie lifted his hips to encourage you to remove his boxers, craving the feeling of your mouth on him. You couldn’t even get them past his knees before you gave in, peppering sloppy kisses down his length, suckling and kissing his balls.

The sounds falling from his mouth were heavenly, your own arousal pooling in your underwear. Wrapping your hand around the base of his shaft, the curly patch of pubes tickling your fingertips, you licked the slit of his head, the sharp taste of his pre-cum dancing along your tongue. At the sound of his moans, you took his head in your mouth, your tongue caressing the delicate spots you knew he had.

The sight of you was enough to send him over the edge, but he held back somehow. With one hand still tangled in locks of your hair, you felt him shift slightly under your grasp. Slowly, torturously, you took his entire length in your mouth, the silky texture of you feeling like heaven to him.

Testing your reflexes, you began to bob your head, feeling the tip of his cock prodding the back of your throat. He nearly came at the feeling of tightening as you gagged around him, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You felt his hand move to the base of your skull as he guided you deeper.

Saliva pooled in your throat, dripping from your mouth as you worked his length, tongue gliding along every bulging vein. Tears started to squeeze from your eyes, trailing down your face as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, look at me princess,” Eddie’s voice commanded.

Raising your gaze, Eddie’s face was covered by the camera. A press of his fingers and the lens flashed, capturing your tear-stained face and your lips wrapped tightly around his cock.

“Shit, so fuckin’ pretty suckin’ me off,” Eddie groaned, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “Bet you’re soaked, huh?”

A moan trailed from your lips, the vibration on his body sending shockwaves through Eddie’s system. He lifted your mouth off of him, sitting up to recapture your lips with his. The kiss was chaos, you could feel how bad he needed you through the way his tongue swept the bottom of yours.

Hands on your waist, Eddie twisted so that you lay beneath him. His legs were between yours, hips pressed together as he grinded his length into you.

“Eddie, please-” you breathed, face flushed from arousal.

“Whaddya need, angel?” Eddie’s lips were pink and swollen, you could see the teeth marks from when you were sucking him off.

“Need you,” you gasped as he pulled your underwear to the side, the cool air sending a shock through your body.

“Gotta be more specific princess,” Eddie teased, a smirk on his face. His fingers traced your folds as he continued, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, need your fingers baby,” groaning as you writhed your hips against his digits, needing some kind of pressure.

“Gonna make a mess on my fingers?” Eddie leaned down and purred in your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

Your breath caught as he found your clit, teasing with the pressure and motion. Your eyes fluttered shut while Eddie’s were wide open, watching every twitch and reaction to his movements, studying carefully as if he were committing it to memory. He kind of was, his own personal database of your horny moments would come in incredibly handy on tour.

Your face flushed as he circled your heat, slipping one finger in with no resistance. Your hips jumped at the feeling, your body feeling like it was floating above the bed. Forcing your eyes open, you placed a hand on Eddie’s chest, fingertips tracing the tattoo on his pec. Without a second thought, he added two more fingers, the stretch sending a gorgeous burn to your stomach.

Curling and stroking, Eddie could feel you tightening around him as you threw your head back with a groan. His eyes flicked back and forward between your rosy-cheeked face and your cunt, salivating at the sight of you gripping at his fingers.

A wet smacking sound made your heart jump as Eddie’s mouth attached itself to your clit, sucking and tugging at the sensitive spot. Instinctively, your hand shot down and you intertwined your fingers with the curls draping his face. He slurped and groaned, your arousal as sweet as nectar on his taste buds.

You didn’t even have to tell him, he could feel your orgasm through the sounds and twitches and squeezes of your body, your hips rocking against his face. He looked up at you with those big, brown eyes as you came undone, pussy squeezing him like a vice. With a final kiss to your clit, he pulled away but left his fingers where they were.

Reaching for the camera, he lined up the shot of your plump, glistening pussy stuffed with his fingers, making sure his rings were on show. Whether this picture was more for him or for you he wasn’t sure, so he grinned as he took two, a matching set. Adding the pictures to the growing pile on the bed he glanced up at you, your face blissful as you smiled down at him.

A cheeky grin grew on his face as he curled his fingers, the surprise movement causing your body to jolt beneath him.

“You know what’s gonna be the hardest thing about being away?” he spoke almost nonchalantly, as though he had forgotten his fingers were still fucking you, his thumb circling on your clit.

You whimpered in response, barely able to keep your eyes focused on his face.

“I mean, I can at least get myself off. The hardest bit is not being able to feel you around me as I cum, not being able to fuck my cum deep inside you.”

You watched his cock twitch at his own words, evidently working himself up.

“I want you to cum inside me, fuck me so deep that I fuckin’ feel it until you come back,” you groaned, biting your lip as his eyes darkened and rolled, the words going straight to his shaft.

Withdrawing his fingers, he quickly lined himself up with your pussy, his head teasing your entrance. Impatience flooding your body, you wrapped your legs around his hips, heels digging into his ass as you pulled him closer.

With an eyebrow raised, he shifted into you, his breath escaping as a whistle at the silky, warm feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. Your mouth hung open at the feeling, your body instantly whisked into another stratosphere as he began to rock into you, nudging deeper and deeper with each movement.

“I, ugh, I’m not gonna last long,” he leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. When he pulled away, a strand of saliva stretched between your mouths, the sight pure filth.

“Me neither,” you let out a sound, somewhere between a giggle and a gasp. Grabbing the camera, you motioned for Eddie to lift your hips, allowing you to see where he was grinding into your body. The picture was orgasmic itself; your underwear pushed to the side in haste, your arousal coating his cock in a sleek texture as your pussy bulged with his size.

Feeling his high growing, Eddie’s movements became harsher, deeper, more erratic. His sharp movements hit the perfect spot inside of you, your stomach curling in on itself as your orgasm neared. He could see it on your face, the sight nearly enough for him to bust his balls right there and then.

Leaning down, he traced your lips with his fingers. You opened your mouth, moving your tongue over his digits and tasting the leftovers of your previous orgasm. He dove down, licking and nipping at your lips, his body slamming into yours at a ruthless pace.

“You gonna take it all?” he groaned against your mouth, eyes hooded as he tried to stave off his orgasm for just a second more.

“Give it to me, please,” you whined, begging for it.

His teeth found your bottom lip as his cock twitched, biting down with force as he fucked his seed deeper inside of you. The pain sent you over the edge, your pussy clenching around him and milking him of every last drop. He whimpered into your mouth as his hips slowed, giving you everything he had to give.

Hearts racing, he collapsed on your chest as you both tried to catch your breath. One of your hands rose to his hair as he breathed short, fast breaths against your breast. His hands rested on your hips, drawing slow circles with his thumbs, his rings cold against your skin.

“Holy shit,” he rasped, his voice vibrating through his chest to yours. “That was awesome.”

You giggled slightly, cringing at the way it pushed his softening cock out of you. With a moan, you tried to pull him back into you but he pulled away, crouching to be face-to-face with your pussy.

“Quick, pass me the camera,” he rambled, holding out his hand as you passed it to him. Lining up the shot, he snapped his favourite picture of the night; his cum leaking out of you as he scooped it up, forcing it back in with two fingers.

“Can we do this for every tour, forever?”

extra:

It was safe to say that the pictures got their fair amount of use while Eddie was away. He had one stuffed in his wallet, one hidden in his guitar case, one in the glovebox of the van. His favorite location, however, was the one he had taped to the back of his guitar, taking it on stage with him every night.

Each night, he saw the picture of you, mouth salivating around his cock, and a thrill went through him, amping him up for the show. The other band members had started wondering why he would take his guitar into the bathroom immediately following a show, but didn’t want to risk asking.

a/n: tee-hee

masterlist for more of my work <3

ko-fi if you’d like a commission or to support the page <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #strangers things #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut #rockstar eddie munson #corroded coffin #fanfic #writeblr #loverletterlore

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gloomunson · 19 days ago

Text

The Set Up

Yeah, took me 11 months to post again, mind your business.

Smut bc of course it is. You and Eddie get set up on a blind date.

Word Count: 9847

You’d only really been told a few minor details about your date this evening.

He’s tall.

He’s loyal.

He’s easy-going.

He’s a lead singer in a band.

He’s tall.

Unsurprisingly, you were desperate enough to accept the date regardless of the brief description. He’d certainly matched some of it this far. He was tall all right. Towered over you in the brief moment he walked over to the table you’d already been seated at near the bar. He was pretty too. He was prettier than a bride on her wedding day. His lashes long and fluttering, lips full and glossy, eyelids glimmering with what looked like the remnants of eyeshadow that he must have second guessed and wiped off before he arrived. He had the hair of a rockstar, long, dirty, curly, windswept and effortlessly styled, though it must have taken him years of practice in his bathroom mirror to achieve that look, you were thankful he’d taken the time.

A few decent looking guys rolled through the bar during your wait. Some tall, some short, some certainly rockstar adjacent, none of them would quite have made the same impact as he had. But at least they’d arrived more closely to the meeting time set. He arrived 36 minutes late. You tend to be pedantic like that when you’re anxious. You thought about going home. You thought about drinking alone. You thought about chatting to one of the other guys lingering around too, but then he arrived.

He arrived strolling in like he owned the place, and you’d forgiven him at first. The leather jacket and the ring clad fingers taking away some of the pain of both his lateness and then the initial first date awkwardness. The apology wasn’t half bad either, he looked genuinely embarrassed and he looked at you with those wet brown eyes if his, the slightest glimmer of glitter at his lash line and you’d somewhat succumb to his efforts. But 30 more minutes into it with a maximum of 8 sentences said between the two of you, you couldn’t fucking fathom how this man had lead a band or gotten anywhere so far in life. He had nothing to say. He had the personality of a plank of wood. If the cocktails didn’t kick in soon, it was a wasted journey. You were rooting for him too.

You’d been trying. Small talk was exhausting but you’d at least attempted to cover the bases. You knew he was late because he got the train tonight. That he’d somehow at 28 years old never gotten one before. That he didn’t quite understand the correct platforms, scrambling and missing the first train of his. That he should have looked it up beforehand. The only reason tonight was the night he lost his public transport virginity was because his friends had warned him to leave his ‘shitty’ van at home. You guessed that meant he either had poor taste in vehicles or poor hygiene in the maintenance of one. Perhaps even both which was also pretty dire and preventative of things escalating between you.

You also knew that he’d admittedly not been on a ‘real date’ for quite some time. Probably because in peak musician fashion, he’d tended to have more flings and hook ups either before, after or hell, maybe even during a show. You’d also spotted the giant hickey on his neck to further assist that theory, not so much the location but confirmation that he’d not been one to shy away from casual sex, neither should he. But it was quite amusing that he’d attempted to conceal it for the sake of this date. Unfortunately for him, the shade was warmer than his skin tone, you’d spotted it pretty early on. He’d also nervously rubbed off a large portion of it. It’s a wonder he’d bothered to hide it and go on a date at all, he clearly didn’t need the set up.

The only saving grace during the awkward silences was the tapping of his fingers against the sticky high table. His hands were pretty. Fingers long and slender, precisely beating a rhythm into the wood that had so thoroughly not been deserving of it. His pale skin almost translucent enough that the bluey green veins pumping and pulsing beneath his skin were practically begging for your attention and they’d caught it. If there was nothing else coming from tonight, you at least needed to consider the attention those digits could provide in the backseat of your car that you actually had bought with you. Shit. Maybe that was the rockstars effect right there. Those damn fingers.

Suddenly the motion had ceased, his fingers retreating from the table, instead wiggling around in the air in a peculiar manor. He’d caught you. “My eyes are up here sweetheart.” You followed his fingers all the way up to the upturned smirk on his lips. He gestured to it so helpfully with his index finger too. “So, they are.” You remain calm, cold even. As if you’d not been caught drooling over him. “Must have gotten lost searching for a reason to continue this date.” He gulps, his Adam’s apple fighting for its life. He withdraws his hands, sinking them under the table to rub the nervous sweat off his palms onto his jeans instead. “That bad?”

He’s not surprised that you thought it. It was abysmal. Through no fault of your own, it was all on him. But the fact you’d had the balls to say it out loud. Though truth be told, you weren’t actually intending to. He was both aroused and mortified and it wasn’t an entirely new sensation to him. You were so far out of his league you may as well have been on another continent, planet even. He was painfully aware he had nothing about him to keep a woman like you interested. You were bubbly and smart. You were pretty. The kind of pretty that makes him want to throw himself over a puddle in the street so that you might walk all over him instead of dirtying your shoes on the ground, fuck a jacket, like in the old movies, you deserved better than a jacket. He’d tried to come up with compliments, stories, anything about his life that could be considered interesting or mildly intelligent, he came up with nothing.

He started tapping the second he broke into the library of previous conversations with his friends, hoping to steal an anecdote of theirs that he could pass as his own instead. He’d set the bar for himself so low that literally anything would have done, would have filled the gap in conversation. Like that one time his friend Jeff fell right off the stage during a set. Or that other time when the same friend Jeff got hit with pyrotechnics accidentally. He was far too slow, and you were far too lovely for him to look at. There was no chance of him successfully escaping into his own head to pluck that material out in a timely fashion when he could get lost in your glare instead. He just wanted to be in the moment with you, romantic in his head but was the romance in the room with them at the dingy bar they’d somehow both found themselves in? No, he didn’t suppose it was. He was completely fucking this up.

“It’s not great.” You admitted. You probably could have been kinder. Okay, you definitely could have been kinder, but you were so fed up with dates heading south, may as well speed up the process. He suddenly perks up. “Do you smoke?” You furrowed your brow for a moment before responding. “Like cigarettes?” You cringed that you’d even asked, of course that was what he’d meant. “Like weed.” He deadpanned. Finally, you found yourself cracking a smile for the first time that night. He finally felt he did something right for the first time that week. His friends had also warned him not to mention his affliction for pot. It’s not like the date could have gotten any worse, it seemed like the opportune time to pull that one out. “I wouldn’t say no.” You may as well get something out of this. Free weed with a hot guy was not something you were strong willed enough to pass up. If it lead to the inevitable make out session with them knee deep in the passenger seat afterwards then so be it.

“This is gonna sound really fucking presumptuous of me and I promise it’s not like that but uh, ha, I uh I have a room at the motel across the street.” You waited for him to stop mentally cursing himself for mentioning it, but it didn’t seem likely to stop soon. “You wanna smoke there?” You complete the suggestion for him. He nodded. “Figured it’d save us stinking out your car, know how hard it is to get rid of that smell.” Speaking from a literal decade of experience. “Very considerate of you.” You were already hopping from the stool you’d been sat on; he finally got a look at you in full as you made your way to the exit in front of him. He literally pinched himself.

You were unbelievable. It was a sick joke that his friends thought he’d ever have a chance with you. The only information they’d given him about you was;

She’s hot.

She’s a little blunt and direct.

She’s really funny.

She’s sweet once you get to know her.

She’s hot.

Hot didn’t even come close. The skirt cut way above the knee, your thighs thick, juicy and jiggling as you walked. Your tights an opaque black you’d assumed boring but still doing unspeakable things to him with the way they hugged you. He was about to get on his knees and crawl after you if only to get a better look at them. The fact you’d paired it off with a corset top was insane to him. A sheer black top was layered beneath it, sure, but it did nothing to hide your cleavage squished together and pushed up to the heavens as god intended. It was the kind of outfit to make a man do shameful, disgusting things to himself alone at night. That paired with the makeup, flawless and yet so minimal he’d only really picked up on it because of the neat little flicks above your eyelids. The accentuation of your lashes mixed with your waterlines coated in a cool white liner was actively destroying him. He had absolutely no idea what he’d done to deserve a shot with a woman like you and from that moment on, he couldn’t afford to let his nerves get the better of him anymore.

He chased out after you with a new found energy, similarly to a puppy chasing its owner. You arched your brow as he caught up with you, bouncing on the balls of his doc marten covered feet. “You’re kinda cold you know that?” You wondered if there was anything else he wanted to add to that or if he was done offending you there. “It’s really fucking intimidating actually.” A breeze blows over them, his curls combing back in the wind, his side portrait revealing itself along with the baby pink blush coating his cheeks. The street lights glowing behind him made him look pretty fucking angelic from your perspective. You felt yourself soften. “I’m sorry for that.” You looked down at your shoes, platform trainers you never went without, with a genuine remorse. “I know I must be hard to talk to.” You did feel embarrassed about the way you’d acted. You’d never really given him a chance. You tended to throw up a wall pretty effortlessly around new people. From the second he was late, your preconceptions plummeted into the earth. Perhaps you were too hasty after all.

“Hey it’s okay. I’m a big boy I can handle it.” He gestured to his chest as they walked more in unison. “We all have our shit.” He continues, suddenly bubblier than ever. “I for one, am fucking terrified of pretty girls.” He grinned, big and cheesy when you laugh, finally feeling like he’s accomplishing some level of charm. You even went as far as to tucking some hair behind your ear before the wind pulled it back away again. He wanted so desperately to reach out and fix it for you, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he had some serious impressing to do before he could reach that level of intimacy.

“No, I’m serious. Hard to believe I know.” You rolled your eyes. “Even harder when they’re a little mean.” He nudges your arm playfully, and boldly really, considering he was really pushing himself out of his comfort zone now. “I am pretty mean aren’t I?” You cringed. You didn’t want to be. You were just closed off and with good reason too, though he’d never question it, he could see it was there and something you were working through. “I reckon I can get you out of that shell.” You couldn’t stop smiling now, it was infuriating. “Like you suddenly came out of yours.” You elbowed him this time. He checked off a mental tally of things you did that made him think he stood a chance, so far he had two, which wasn’t a lot, but certainly enough.

“Sweetheart I’m gonna be honest.” He paused walking, you too, stopping in front of him, short and sweet and giving him your undivided attention and he wanted to kiss you, but it was so far from the moment for it. “You get set up on a date by your friends you expect it to be a failure right? Like you’re a fucking mess so naturally whoever they choose for you is going to be just as bad right? Half the time someone you’d never look twice at. As shallow as that is to say. But then I walk in and see, well you.” He gestures to you with both hands excitedly. “Shit I couldn’t believe it.” You shook your head. “You know you’re hot right? You act like it’s me who’s the hot one here.” He literally dropped his jaw, your confession wasn’t a complete blinder, he’d known he wasn’t ugly. There were some questionable attributes and insecurities of his, but he wasn’t ugly. He just hadn’t expected you to see that too. “Are you serious? I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.” They start walking again, mostly because you feel so embarrassed and hot under the collar at the confession that you needed to put some space between the two of you again.

“The hickey on your neck says you know I’m right.” Of course you’d seen it. He instinctively reached to cover it, as if to say ‘oh that’s what that is.’ “Would you believe me if I said I was attacked by an octopus or something?” You looked at him seriously. “Yeah, no fair enough.” He snorted. He cursed himself for it. You thought it was fucking adorable. “We all have our shit.” You repeat his earlier statement. He genuinely beamed at you. “That we do.” They finally reached the motel, he leads you to his room, hands shaking like crazy, it could be the cold, it could be the nerves, either way, he struggled to slot the key in the lock. You cover his hand with yours, taking the keys, unlocking the door yourself. You were so fucking cute. He was losing his mind.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” You waltzed in. Letting the warmth of the room engulf you in a hug. It’s not as bad as you’d pictured. It’s actually pretty clean. The walls freshly coated in off white paint. The carpet outdated but hoovered and surprisingly unstained. The sheets also outdated but again, cleaner than you’d expect from a joint like this. Suddenly fooling around in your car didn’t seem as appealing. Not when the bed looked so inviting. But that was planning too far ahead for you. Not far enough for him. He was picturing marriage and kids by now.

“Shut the fuck up.” He reached into his bag, bringing out a pre-rolled joint. “My, my, you do come prepared.” Unfortunately, he failed to notice the tiny lube packets thrown on the desk right beside the bag. “Safety first.” He wanted shooting. You’d happily shoot him. Though the thought that he might be the slightest bit interested in fucking you was making all your insides gooey. It was also real hard not to squeeze your thighs together. “Where to?” He scrambles, placing the joint between his lips, heading to the back of the room, another door, leading out to a shitty pool area, probably one of the most depressing scenes. Even the bright fuck off blue tint of the chlorine overdosed pool couldn’t brighten up the grey paving and metal fencing around it. The deckchairs missing half their legs, material spliced with a knife weren’t much helping it either. “Absolutely not.” He agreed, closing the door, locking it, throwing the chain on the latch firmly for good measure. He didn’t feel like dying there tonight.

They instead decide to smoke in the room, the windows open wide, the lights dimmed, some music playing lowly and gravelly from the clock radio at his bedside. He’s laid with his head to the foot of the bed, knees bent up, socks digging under his pillows on his designated side. You opted for propping yourself up at the headboard, pillows supporting your back, legs lay out flat, thighs pushed together. He’d so badly wanted to lay on them.

They pass the joint between them till it was half way through, the motel room hazy, the air thick, he damns it for hiding you from him. He just wants to get closer. “Whatcha thinking there?” You leaned forward, elbows on your knees. “So many dangerous thoughts.” He lets slip with a smirk. “Care to share with the class.” He groans, but he doesn’t mean it. “I share my weed, my time, my beautiful room, and you still want more?” He tsked at you. “If you’re thinking about me, don’t I have the right to know?” You offered back. “You have ownership over thoughts now?” You nodded. “I do. Better get them out in the open before you get into trouble.” You giggle at your own bullshit and that’s exactly what it was, complete and utter, couldn’t handle your weed bullshit. “What if,” he sits up, leaning back on his elbows. “The thoughts themselves get me into trouble.” You ponder it for a moment. “Then I really, really wanna know.” Your eyes lit up with a genuine excitement. “You’re so high aren’t ya little one?” You fought the urge to whimper at the pet name. “Tell me.”

He sighed. This time he sat up fully. You shuffled around yourself, crossing your legs. Your skirt so short you were well aware you weren’t covered by anything but tights right now but at least they were opaque, ish. He begged himself not to look. “Well, I was just thinking maybe we could uh…” he leaned in closer, his nerves started eating away at him when you leaned too, “we could shot gun. Maybe.” You chuckled. “If that’s as dark as it gets in that little mind of yours then your little fling,” you reached out, prodding the fading hickey on his neck, “must have been pretty abysmal.” He clicked his tongue. “Well, you certainly got me there huh.”

He leans up on his knees, lighting up before instructing you, “open up.” You were practically gawping at him as he inhaled, mouth propping open while he inhaled enough for him to feel his lungs aching. He reached for your face, thumb on one side of your mouth the rest of his fingers on the other, stretching your mouth wider, pushing the smoke right out of his own and into yours. Your eyes were open, just barely, eyelids heavy, pretty lashes fluttering, you had the audacity to moan when his lips pulled away without even kissing you. He was already fisting the sheets. It was over way too fast.

“You are way too fucking hot right now.” He stubs out the joint momentarily, placing it in the ash tray he’d now deposited on the desk. “Then why aren’t you kissing me?” He breathed a shaky breath, running his fingers down his face frustratedly. “That’s, that’s a good fucking question actually.” He practically bounced back onto the bed, you giggling away so fucking sweet, finally relaxing around him. His friends were right, you were a real sweetie deep down. He liked you at your bitchiest, any other version of you was a blessing on top.

Your hands stroke his cheek, startling him, you begin to pull them away, maybe a step too far but he’s pulling you back in by the wrists, depositing your arms lazily around his neck instead. “Just caught me off guard is all.” He lets his forehead lean against yours, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. You smelled so good. He’d never forget it. Bury himself in it. You were more intoxicating than any drug and he’d sampled his fair share. “Don’t want you to regret this sweetheart.” He says it honestly, vulnerably. “You need to stay out of your head.” You’re calmer than he is. It didn’t take much. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be.” He rubs his nose against yours, so close yet so far. “But do you even like me? Cause I swear, you were so out, now you’re all in I…” Usually it’s the guy who kisses the girl when they’re rambling on, but you threw the outdated stereotype right in the trash. You kissed him. The second you did, he cupped your cheeks, grateful you had.

It wasn’t the best kiss either of them had ever shared. It wasn’t electric or life changing or even passionate, despite the chemistry they clearly shared now. It was messy and miscalculated, and they clashed their teeth with a clanging sensation at least twice. “Okay stop, stop.” You pulled back, not too far but far enough for him to miss you. “What the fuck was that?” You were deadly serious. He was mortified. “I can do so much fucking better I swear to god.” He would beg on his knees for another shot immediately. “Just take it easy.” Your voice is so soothing, reassuring and encouraging, he leaned in again. “I really wanna kiss you too, Eddie.” His eyes pinged with tiny hearts. “You do?” He was so struck dumb by the sound of you saying his name. “Stay with me here.” He nods like a lovesick puppy. “Kiss me again.” You nudge him, this time he eased into it. It started as steady, gentle closed mouth kissing, before prying your lips open with his tongue kissing, which lead to him pulling you into his lap kissing. Then it was him raking his fingers through your hair kissing, elevating to softly whining into your mouth kissing and well, you can gather the rest, you were fucking kissing.

“That’s more like it.” You praised, tugging at his hair, his breath hot against your lips, a smirk befalling you when he pushed his hips right up into yours, forgetting the thin layer of fabric between them, hitting right at your core, a moan pouring from your mouth into his. You even felt his dick kick in his jeans. “Fuck baby.” He whimpered at you calling him that. “You gonna whimper and whine whenever I talk honey.” You stroked his chin, his lips chasing after yours, power going straight to your head. He was so far gone, be it the weed, be it you, he didn’t know and he sure as hell didn’t care.

“Can’t help myself princess.” Your turn to swoon. “Drive me fuckin crazy.” His hands run up your thighs. “This fucking outfit. Can’t believe I nearly bored you to death at the start. I deserve a world of suffering.” You just hummed and nodded, letting him mumble and mutter away. “Dressed so pretty for me. Shortest fucking skirt. Knew what you were doing.” He starts sucking on your neck, moving your hair out of the way to better bruise you. “Made so much fun of my neck, let’s see how much you like some marks of your own.” He teased. “You wouldn’t dare.” You fought back. “Already fucking there.” He bit down into the soft, warm flesh of your neck, soothing the toothmarks with a swipe of his tongue. You hissed at the sensation, all sorts of thoughts flickering through the space of your mind right now. Eddie’s tongue, Eddie’s tongue, Eddie’s fucking tongue.

His heart was fucking hammering in his chest, all senses heightened, craving you. Yours were just as bad, if not worse. You were notorious for becoming insatiable under the influence, so it was no surprise to you how quickly the pace had increased. His apparent and fairly large need for you too was enough to mean that he was swimming in a similar ocean. “Can we please take some clothes off, I feel like I’m scorching.” You pulled at your corset like it were made of flames. “Never gonna say no to that.” He leans in kissing you again. Hands reaching up your back to feel around the corset, trying to find the tie. It had to be there somewhere. You guide his wrists down to the bow which he carefully undoes. He tries to tug it off you, not understanding how exactly it worked, pulled at it, yanked it, unthreaded it, fiddling some more. He pulls from your lips, maximum concentration, head resting against your chest, muttering into it. “Why are you doing this to me?”

You stroke his head, flattening some of his untamed mane, soothingly kissing his crown. “An A for effort. Poor baby.” He hugged you tight, needy and clingy and so, so into you. “Definitely the least practical top for a hook up but they make my tits look great.” You offered as a consolation. He pulled back, not looking at you, but directly at your breasts, grinning like a fool. That was enough of an encouragement boost to keep him going. “They sure do.” By the time he rests back against them, you’ve unthreaded the corset enough to slip it off over your head, which he gladly jumps to help you do, chucking the wretched thing across the room once it was off.

“Holy shit, look at these fucking things.” You bit into your lip as he grabbed them, no gentle caress, just taking them in each of his massive hands, squeezing them, tugging them, bunching them together, pinching each nipple till you pushed your chest further into his grip. “Unbelievable.” He lifted the sheer top you’d had on beneath the corset. Watching them fall out bare, they were beautiful. They were big, not perfectly round, not in the least bit symmetrical, but full and hot and heavy in his hands. Your nipples hard and prodding at him with an unfamiliar shaped lump adoring them both. Metal. You’d pierced not one but both nipples. “You’re fucking kidding me.” He stares at them, no really, mouth open, gold fish popping, gawping at them. “You can still suck on them.” It was as if you’d read his mind, he was wondering it too and, thankful you’d said it. He feared he might never have left that moment otherwise.

The feeling was different. Nothing like he’d experienced before. Boobs were boobs to an extent sure but the metal bar adorning them both was so erotic, so delicious to him. He sucked them gently at first, too afraid to do too much in unfamiliar territory. Once you sighed softly in approval, encouraging his movements, he finally began to explore, licking, sucking gently pulling with his teeth, your breath hitching, sounds increasing, soft little moans that coursed right through his blood stream. His tongue tangling around the piercings were enough to alert you to any other skills he might have had in that department. You made a bold assumption that he’d knew his way around with few complaints.

“I need more Eddie.” You pushed your chest into him. “Fuck I need more.” You were so high, aching with need, bursting with lust. He managed to pull himself away, only to catch your eyes. “Need more what?” You scowled, less than impressed with his agender to torture you further. “Or should I ask where you need me, hmm?” You shuddered. “Where do you fucking think?” You snapped, agitated and unafraid to hide it. He lapped it up. This might be his one and only opportunity to have a woman of your calibre begging for his cock, you could bet your ass he was going to milk it.

“Where I’m fucking soaking you already.” You pouted, your thighs squeezing his, sweet little centre rubbing down onto the zipper of his jeans, catching just right. An entirely new tactic to get yourself what you wanted. He moved his hand down between them as if he didn’t already feel the dampness, low and behold, his jeans were fucking ruined. “Gonna do anything about it?” You urged him, pushing him further, you’d cross every line you had to if it made him act.

Finally, he grabbed your hips, ready to roll you both over throwing your back down into the mattress, his body lowering, slotting between your spread thighs. The weight of him pinning you down. “Yeah I’m gonna do several fucking things about it.” Your cunt fluttered around nothing, the tremors rising all the way up into the pit of your stomach. It was a flaming sensation, making you fidget and puff short little sighs of frustration into the room. You were pained by the lack of his touch even more so by the emptiness.

“That was hot.” You sighed; he smirked. “You’re hot.” His eyes rake over your body. “Look at you.” He ran his hands down your sides, he couldn’t decide what to play with first. So much choice, so much to devour. He was stalling. So nervous he couldn’t quite push himself to do anything at all. Just leaning back on his legs, not believing the sight before him. You reached out for his hand, not to bring it to touch you, even though you weren’t opposed to the idea. Instead, you just wanted to bring him back down to earth, offer him some solace. “You still with me?” You traced your thumb across the back of his hand. “We can hit pause.” He shakes his head, taking your other hand in his. “No fucking way princess.” He gulps. “I just needed to look at you, take it all in.” He pulls your hand to his lips, kissing it. “I might not get the chance again.” You sure hoped he would, as did he. “You have about 2 seconds to take a mental picture.” You mouthed “one, two,” before he leaned down, kissing you delicately on the mouth.

You tug at his hair, pulling his weight on top of you, wanting it actually. He grunts. “Please, take some damn clothes off.” He pauses for a moment. Shit. He couldn’t just keep his clothes on. He sits up, practically flying off the bed like an erratic little bat, flinging his jacket off, his shirt, struggling with his jeans too. “Shit, fuck, shit.” You’re leant up, arms behind you, watching him hop on one leg, trying to get his boots off whilst his jeans are halfway down his legs. You decide to show mercy, putting him out of his misery, slipping onto your knees, halting him.

He gulps, swallowing hard as he takes in the view of you there, topless, blushing, hair thrown over your shoulder, on your fucking knees. You unlace his boot, slipping it off his foot, one after the other, before tugging down his jeans, letting him step out of them. While you’re down there, you can’t help but peak, his sizeable bulge straining against his boxers, leaking. A sweet little wet patch calling to you. You move your face towards it, but he stops you. “Nuhuh sweetheart, no can do.” You pout, brows furrowing sweetly. He tilts your chin up toward him. “Want me to bust in 2 seconds flat? One more pout and I’m there sweetheart. Don’t test me on this one.” You roll your eyes before admitting defeat, effortlessly standing up again, sitting yourself on the edge of the bed.

“What do you suggest instead then?” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself as he approaches you slowly. "Why don't you lie back for me, princess?" His voice is low and husky, dripping with barely restrained desire. He wasn’t fooling anyone. You shift higher up the bed, leaning into the pillows while his hands already work at tugging your skirt down your plump thighs.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband, tugging gently as he looks you dead in the eye. “Lift,” he commands, his voice firm yet gentle. It makes your stomach summersault. You comply, arching your back slightly as he slowly drags the short little thing down your legs, tossing it aside along with your tights, your panties left on.

Just as you ponder why he left them on at all, he pulls them up, between your lips, “for me?” You roll your eyes, mostly in hopes he doesn’t see the effect he’s having on you, “which part?” He takes a swipe, “the lace and the dampness.” You groan. He moves them to the side and pulls you apart, admiring you, sucking in a deep breath. “Stop staring.” You squirm. He ignores you, “I’m serious stop,” he looks at you, “shut the fuck up, I’m working here.” You face palm in embarrassment, he takes the win. He leans in, sucking at you, licking you, in all the wrong places almost as if he’s doing it on purpose. He cannot be serious. First the kiss now this.

You lean up on your elbows, watching him, as soon as your eyes meet his, he finds your clit, “oh there it is.” He smirks into it, you mumble, you’re not sure what. He hums. His breath is hot against you, you already felt like you were on fire and all he was doing was adding oxygen to it. But his tongue is so gorgeous and long, darting inside you. You forgive him. He’s fucking perfect and direct around your clit, plus his plump, pretty lips latched onto you, sending you to heaven. Felt so empty though, clenching down on nothing, needing more than what he was giving you. Maybe you were greedy, maybe you just wanted this man like no other. Maybe that was the same thing.

“More.” You sigh. He ignores you, purposely or accidentally you’re unsure. “Fuck more.” You repeat. He mumbles around you, lifting a hand to wave you off, nothing was stopping him now, “please.” His brow quirks up at that. “Pleaseee.” You say again. He rotates his finger as if to say, “keep going,” head still buried between your legs. “Please, babe, I need more, please, please.” The gesture continues. You groan, hips wiggling, his spare hand pins them. “Fuck, I need more, please, please more. Eddieeee.” He lifted his hand to gesture a chef’s kiss, and you wanted to crush his head with your thighs like a damn watermelon. He pissed you off even more when his mouth hesitated, leaving you with nothing for far too long, before he finally sucked on those same sarcastic fingers, pushing them inside you. He didn’t stop there; his lips were back at your clit. Your head was thrown back into the pillows beneath you, your back arching, hips bucking into him. “Fuck.”

Despite his theatrics, it was good, it was more than good. Everything increased by the weed of course but credit where credit is due and all that. You were drenched, whining, pushing your tits into your own hands. You were floating on a cloud. He was touching you so well. So, fucking well. You almost felt that band snap, stomach summersaulting with the realisation. Cumming, you were close to cumming. Fuck what if you sounded stupid? What if you made too much noise or fuss? What if he didn’t like the way you tasted? You psyched yourself out of it when you got too close, he furrows his brows, pulling away when you groan and mutter frustratedly. He came up for air like a diver who’d been underwater, hair pushed back, gasping for a breath. “What happened? Weren’t you there? Felt like you were there.” He’s not angry, not annoyed he’d failed, really he had only the look of concern.

“I was there.” You confirm. “What happened?” He still touches you, not to make you cum, just cause he wanted to, really wanted to, if you did though, that was a bonus. “I got in my head.” He nodded, understandingly. “Well, it’s a very nice head, I’d wanna be in there too.” He says it so comfortingly poking you. “But it’s kinda cruel to deny yourself, don’t ya think?” His fingers slip inside you again briefly, pulling out, seeing if you had any objection. “Think I think too much.” He laughs. “That’s what the weed was for.” You cover your face. “I don’t wanna force it, but I do want to try again, would you be okay with that?” The way he looks at you makes you want to trust him with your life. Eyes big and beautiful, soft for you. You agreed, the fact he wasn’t put off entirely was unfortunately a shock to you. “Okay.” You breathe, relaxing.

He builds you up again, much the same, consistency being key. “Close your eyes.” He talks you through it. You do so. He mumbles. “Just focus on how I feel, can you do that?” You nod but he doesn’t see, too busy, so you speak up. “Ye- yeah.” He continues. You focus, eyes closed, he feels good, wet, warm, “hmm,” his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, torturously not dipping inside. “Oh.” Then his tongue licks at your clit, short, quick flickers, not overly exaggerated. “Shit.” His lips kiss and suck and hold the bundle with care, his finger pushes into you, slow and deliberate, gently hooking, as if tugging at that very string preventing you from getting there. “Fuck, baby.” He repeats, patiently drawing you near. Feeling you shuffle, feeling you tighten, hearing you whine as you near the edge, he tugs that string like it’s his fucking lifeline, and he needs it back in his possession, you crumble, back arching, moans loudening, he doesn’t let up until your thighs are shaking, breath laboured. “Fuck, fuck.” Your hips drop, body feeling like it’s plummeting from great heights, orgasm crashing over you in waves. He pulls away from you, he doesn’t grin like you thought he would, just wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at you like you hung the fucking moon.

He climbs up your body, peppering kisses along your stomach, your chest, your neck, your jaw. His face comes into view over you, and he smiles softly. His eyes are glazed, and his pupils are huge. He looks high and sated, happy. And its infectious. He leans in to kiss you but stops himself. “Do you… I mean… can I…” You try to finish for him. “Kiss me?” He flashes his teeth a little, before biting his bottom lip. “Yeah.” He says breathlessly. Your nod is the only permission he needs before he takes your mouth again, cupping your jaw. You kiss him passionately, enjoying the taste of yourself mixed with his sweet mouth as his tongue glides along your bottom lip, dipping inside to tangle with your own. You can feel his erection pressing against your hip, aching, no, throbbing. You hum against his tongue, face moving, moulded perfectly against his, body rocking too, grinding against him. Both of you getting carried away, feeling free now. Comfortable.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he slots between your legs, hands reaching down to grip the fat of your ass in his hands, groaning, hips bucking into you when he takes hold. “Fuck.” You gasp. He continues kissing you, sucking hard onto your lips, biting a little, licking a little, tongue deep inside your mouth. He tries to be quiet but you can feel him panting a little against your mouth, hips pushing at you in desperation.

It’s now just a case of who breaks first. Neither of you willing to pull away for even a second. Despite knowing how badly you needed each other. His hips start moving more intentionally, grinding against you, making his own frustrated sounds which get smothered against your lips. You can literally feel his struggle between wanting to maintain control and losing it completely. His hands squeeze your ass tighter, spreading you, pulling you closer. Slotting you directly against his clothed cock. Your fingers dig into his chest, scraping gently at his tattoos there. He sighs at the catch of your nails. You test him again, firmer. Scratching him as he shudders. You do it again, there’s a whimper against your lips this time but he’s pulling away, he’d reached boiling point.

"Fucking hell.” He pulls back, panting hard. His eyes are dark with lust, his hair tousled from your fingers running through it. He looks down at your breasts, rising and falling with each breath, then back up to your eyes. “I wanna… god I wanna fuck you baby, can I fuck you?” His hands stroke over your shoulder, up and down, a gentle, tickling touch. “God I wanna fuck you.” You lean up, nose brushing against his, his eyes flutter closed, you feel them long bambi lashes fan at your cheeks. You chase his lips. Kissing him harshly. Dragging him back down against your body.

He cups your cheeks, kissing you back, tongue slipping into your mouth, but he still tries to speak. “That a yes?” You groan against his mouth. “Tell me it’s a yes.” He’s kissing across to your jaw. You crane your neck to give him full access. He nips at you, teeth grazing then squeezing, a punishment for leaving him hanging. “Shit, yes, yes you can fuck me. Want you to fuck me, stop being a fuckin vampire.” He chuckles against your neck, his body relaxing. He bites again but softly this time, before sucking where your shoulder meets your neck soothing any injury. His hips push against you. His length sliding against your slick, throbbing cunt. He’s so hard it hurts, you, not him, though maybe him too. “Shit. Condom?” He pulls back to look at you.

“You don’t have any? Mr wears a hickey on the first date.” You look at him in absolute awe. “How do you have lube and not condoms?” You dip in for another kiss. You couldn’t help it. “I uhh don’t have one on me no. And no comment on the uh other thing.” He mumbles against your lips. His heart pounding, stomach plummeting. He’d ruined everything. But your legs wrap around his waist. Sending him humming when your pussy grinds against him. His own hips matching yours. “You have any? Little miss perfect?” He asks quietly, sucking your bottom lip again. Your legs tighten around him. He whimpers. “Maybe.” His eyebrows arch. Fuck if you grind against him anymore you’re in for one hell of a sticky situation.

“Maybe?” He groans, face scrunching. “You wanna use me as a toy baby, just fuckin tease and never let me have you?” He doesn’t even hate the idea. There’s a sick part of him that wants it like that, but he pins it for a later date. He instead, kisses down your neck, sucking hard onto the same spot as before, in case you missed his warning. You hiss. “I’m on the pill if you even care.” His eyes widen. His pupils blowing out like that of a cat. Big, black, and impossible to ignore. He stops kissing you for a second, staring at your face in utter disbelief and perhaps even a hint of excitement, his Christmas coming early. Him too, potentially. “You’re on the pill? As in, I can come inside you? As in, I can fill you up? As in…”

“Offer expiring as we speak.” You rock your hips up against him, for something, anything. “No, nope, nuhuh, fuck no, no expiring, gonna just fuck you baby.” He kisses you back, practically tearing your panties just to get to you. His hands roaming over your body roughly. You part your legs wider like an invitation and he takes it. Breaking the kiss only to shuck off his boxers with ease before spreading your legs wide. You gawp at his cock, half sitting up just to get a better view. “Great, now you’re staring.” It twitches as he speaks, shy maybe. “Can’t help it.” You absentmindedly lick over your bottom lip, but he notices it, eyes locked on your face for any kind of negative reaction. “Big huh.” He huffs. “I’m serious.” You insist. “And the way you.. curve a little.” Your hands reach out to stroke him, but you pull your hand back as if you’d been bitten. No, you wouldn’t touch him yet.

He watches your hand pull back with amusement, frustration too. His own hand reaches for you, grabbing yours and guiding it to wrap firmly around him. “Go on, get a proper feel. Ain't gonna bite baby." His hips flex slightly, pushing his cock into your palm encouragingly. Smearing his precum against your palm. His voice was strained. “Spits though.” You swipe through the beading white droplets leaking from his slit. “Looks pretty dangerous to me.” He growls, his hips bucking into your hand, his own still over yours. “Woman," his face scrunches up, how he hadn’t cum, was a fucking miracle to him. “Want me to put it in?”

His hips jerk, he’s embarrassed by the whimper that leaves him when your wrist twists, experimentally touching him, torturing him. “Lie back, lie back and fucking move your hands.” He sounded pained. He was fucking pained. Your cheeks flush crimson. “Please.” He adds politely. Just in case he snapped a little too hard. But you liked it. You only blushed because the thought of squishing him inside you was enough to make you drip.

He watches you with barely restrained urgency as you lay back. The moment you do, he pounces, crawling over you like some kind of predator. Settling between your thighs with a relieved groan at the welcoming heat awaiting him. His cock jumps against you, and he can't help the frustrated grunt that escapes him. You rut your hips against him, and he just can’t get over it. Every fucking thing you do. Every little thing. You were so sexy. So incredibly hot without even trying. He takes himself in his hand, rubbing his thick, hot head against your pussy, swiping through, coating himself in your arousal and you both shudder. You grasp for his forearm, stopping him before he even has the chance to dip his needy tip into you. You were killing him.

“Let me in. Please baby you fuckin have to let me in.” He leaks some more precum against you, you like the way its feels, sticky and warm against your skin. “I will, I promise, just not like this.” He groans exasperated. “Then what? Like what baby?” He’s trying so hard to keep level headed here but you were testing him. He takes a new approach, pinching your lips around his length, fucking through them, head catching your clit, a sweet whine tumbles from your lips. He didn’t even need to be inside you to turn you to mush with his cock. “Just wanna wrap myself around you, you fucking idiot, want to touch you, hold you and fucking feel you properly not just lie here complicit in missionary.” It’s a wonder you manage to get it out at all, through laboured breath, his dick pulsing against you.

“He smirks down at you, his eyes glimmering, amused. “Then don't.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your neck, his hands sliding up your sides, around to your back then up to tangle in your hair. “Touch me.” He breathes, his voice low and husky. “Hold me. Wrap your fucking body around me.” He lifts you slightly. You wrap your arms tight around his neck, your legs hug around his waist, body clinging to his with all your strength. He lays you both on your side, the two of you sinking into the mattress, into each other, his cock lining up with you and you doing nothing to prevent him from slipping in, just letting his tongue catch yours as you moan for him, and he does too, the loudest you’d ever heard him, overwhelmed from plunging into your hot, wet little pussy. His hands rake over your ass, grabbing at it, pulling you further onto him, with no protest from you, just acceptance, just taking him and taking him so god damn perfectly.

His breath hitches as he feels you take every inch of him, your body moulding around his like some sort of fucked up puzzle piece. He groans, hands gripping your ass tighter, grinding you against him, him rocking his hips into your cunt, meeting you there. “Fuck," he gasps, his hips moving in a slow, deep grind as he slides in and out of you in this new position. "Feel so damn good around me baby." He mumbles against your neck. “So, fucking wet.” He ruts into you smiling against your neck. “Yes baby.” He moans softly; his voice muffled against your skin. “Like that.” He encourages, his hips snapping forward as he grips your thighs and pulls you closer. “Touch me.” He gasps, his breath hot against your neck. “Hold me.”

“Yes,” you tangled your fingers in his hair, he grunts as you tug. “I know, I know you like it baby.” You coo. "You god damn know it." He hisses, bucking his hips harder. "You pull my hair like that again." He warns darkly. "And I'll breed you." Your breath hitches, he feels you squirm, like you’re trying to get away from him. He curses himself mentally. “Too much? Way too fucking much?” He panics. “First fuckin date remember.” He rolls his eyes. “Already balls deep baby, too late for etiquette.” You huff. “Just maybe keep the whole breeding thing to a minimum.” He nods in agreement although he doesn’t miss the way you clenched around him as you said it, he took a mental note, not that it’d take, you had him scrambled.

Despite him nodding, he doesn’t really mean it. He’s already picturing you stuffed full of his cum. “Mmm.” He pushes those thoughts aside. “I won’t mention it again.” He promises, pushing his hips forward. “Pinky promise sweetheart.” Your hands lock in the promise, his forehead against yours, breath hot against your lips. “God can you… fuck can you move back a little, gimme some room.” He rolls his eyes but complies, shifting back slightly with a soft grunt, giving you a little more space between your bodies. His cock slips out partway, the new position allowing him to look down between you both, admiring the sight of himself disappearing inside you. "Better?" He huffs. Barely keeping it together. Feeling it was one thing, seeing it was another. The grip you had on him as he pulled back, far enough the tip caught your lips before pushing all the way back in, hugged tight by you, your hips bucking, back arching. You slip a hand down between your torsos, feeling your way down to rub at your clit, his eyes nearly bulge out of his skull, watching you rub yourself, fucking yourself on his cock, desperately humping at him. “Fuck, so much better, so much fucking better.”

"Jesus Christ." He curses under his breath. The sight of you touching yourself, fucking yourself on him, god it was enough to make him see heaven. He reaches down, his hand covering yours, pressing down harder as his hips begin to move, matching your rhythm. "So fucking pretty for me. Look at you go. Look at you taking it.” Your mouth parts, sweet little sounds coming out needy and desperate. Pathetic really. “Can I cum Eddie? Can I?” If you’d have told him at the beginning of the night that he’d end up here, with you begging to cum on his cock without him even pushing you to, he’d tell you to fuck off. Because there was no way in hell you’d ever stoop so low. But hell, was he glad you did.

He laughs in disbelief, his breath coming in short pants as he watches you writhe beneath him, utterly lost in pleasure, begging for it, for him. “Are you seriously asking permission right now?" He teases, hips never stopping their relentless grind against yours. "Fuck yes, cum for me. Never need my permission baby, you cum whenever you fucking want, however many times you want.” You sigh with relief, hand speeding up against your clit, his mouth comes crashing down against yours, hands squeezing at your hips. He kisses you till you can’t kiss back anymore. Till you can only moan and yell, and cum loudly, pussy squeezing him half to death. And when he spills, he spills hard, so hard he’s seeing white spots, head hazy, body engulfed in your flames.

You’re breathless, both run ragged. Trying hard to calm the racing beating of your hearts but to no avail. He collapses into you and you only hold him tighter, face buried in his neck, his hair drifting over you like a curtain and you don’t even care, too wrecked to give a damn but he does. He moves it away. He strokes your cheek, kissing it, soft, sweet, gentle blessings dotted across your face as he comes to. “Baby girl.” His hips shift a little, stirring his finish inside you, just checking it really happened, it really was in there, and it was. “You okay?” He pulls back to catch your eyes. Your makeup is a fucking state. mascara smudged, eyeliner gone entirely. “Define okay.” He smirks at your response, running his fingers through your hair to push it away from your face, better to see the mess he made of you. "I think I can answer that." He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Breathing, cracking jokes, looking at me like you wanna kiss me.” He pecks your lips again. “All signs of life are there.”

“Think I need the opinion of an actual medical professional.” Worry flickers over his face. “You serious?" He laughs softly, pulling back to look at you better, taking in your swollen lips, messy hair, red cheeks. "You feeling sick?" He asks seriously now. "Actual nausea? Headache?" He throws himself off the bed, ready to find his boxers and t-shirt. You whine at the loss of him inside you far too soon. “No, Jesus, come back. I was kidding.”

"Don't joke about shit like that." He crawls back on top of you, pressing his body against yours. "You're okay, right? Nothing hurts?" Your lips twitch into a smile. “Nothing hurts. You gave it your best go though.” He snorts, rubbing his face, his eye in particular. “Yeah well, gifted.” You shove him, playfully. “Where were you gonna go in boxers and a t-shirt hmm? Who were you tracking down like that without a car Ed?” Despite you making fun of him the only part he really focuses on is “Ed.” Sounds so pretty from your mouth.

He strokes his thumb over your bottom lip. He ignores the question, "say it again." He murmurs, leaning in closer. "Say my name." He whispers, his nose nudging yours. "Please?" He asks softly. “Not even listening to me are you?” You trace messy little patterns across his shoulder blades. “No ma’am. Not really." He admits. "You called me 'Ed' and fucked me up." He confesses, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. "I like it." He mumbles. "I really like it." He pecks your neck. “Kinda pathetic Ed.” He squeezes you, smiling, lips catching your neck. “I can live with pathetic. Try besotted even.” He pulls from you to catch your eyes. “Besotted already? Should I be worried?”

"Maybe." He grins mischievously, his hips shifting slightly, making you suck in a breath. "Answer a question honestly." He speaks softly. His fingers carding through your hair again and again. "No bullshit." He adds. "No snark." He smirks. “No promises.” You respond, his face falls. “Fine, whatever. Go on.” He rolls his eyes, trying to hide the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Really fucking helpful." He mutters but presses on anyway. “Truth time. You think I'm annoying as hell, right? Like, offensively annoying?" You nod. “Incredibly so yeah.” He laughs softly, his body relaxing. "Honest answers. God bless." He hesitates. “Would you get to the point?” He nods, plodding on. “Too annoying for a second date?”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You wanna see me again?” He blinks at you like you were speaking a different language. "Duh." He says, his face deadpan for all of a second before he's grinning again, his lips pressing against yours. "Gimme your number." He commands softly, breath fanning across your mouth. "Let me take you out. Do this shit right. Maybe not turn up late this time.” You pretend to ponder it for a moment. You pretty much decided you liked him from the second he kissed you, even if it was one of the worst first kisses you’d ever had. Because when the second one came around, stealing your breath like it was nothing, yeah, you knew alright. “I’m so down for that.”

He grins widely, a playful glint in his eye as he leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. “Well, well, well, looks like I finally managed to impress a girl without fucking it up royally." He teases, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips gently. “Congratulations.” You whisper against his mouth; it does funny little things to him. His heart skips a beat at the sound of your voice so close, so soft and sweet for him. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and before he can stop himself, he's smiling against your lips, a sweet, lazy smile that speaks volumes of the affection he's beginning to feel. “Think I’m in trouble here.” You kiss him gently. “Think I’m right there with you.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #eddie munson stranger things

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eddiesxangel · 9 months ago

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That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

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