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eddiernunson · 3 months ago

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Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), mult-chapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, perv!Eddie, no use of y/n, Eddie POV, references to readers mom, a nice slow build up

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin color or body shape/type.

So the original chapter 4 was a lot shorter than I remember so I combined it with chapter 5 <3

Word count: 7.5k

Chapter 4-Chapter 5

Five weeks ago, as one of his oldest friends asked him what was new, Eddie offhandedly mentioned he would be making his way down to Hawkins sometime during the summer to help Uncle Wayne finally transition into the nursing home.

Steve laughed, jokingly asking how is it that the old bastard isn’t in one already? The answer was pure stubbornness, of course.

It was without question that Steve offered a bed whenever Eddie needed it, tutting away the nonsense of Eddie staying in the 8 Motel off ‘Sketch Valley’, aka where all dark corners Hawkins’ parents have spent their years warning their kids about. Not that it really needed the negative press, as the atmosphere was off putting as it is.

Eddie was grateful, to say the least. After earning some bang for his buck he’s gotten used to a lifestyle and the 8 Motel was the only place in Hawkins that resembled a hotel.

It was impulsively decided the week of Eddie would go and help Wayne move after he reluctantly admitted simple tasks like bathing and making toast was getting harder for him and he could use the help. He called Steve, betting on the welcome being open in any circumstance.

In the heat of the moment Steve accepted, more than happy to help out a friend, give him some place to stay and a soft bed in the middle of packing and figuring out the kinks.

You would think his one second eldest daughter who hadn’t been as nearly stealthy about her crush on the rock star as she thought staying for the weekend would off set his willingness to help, but he’s so eager to help your visit doesn’t even cross his mind. Until you show up, bag in hand, your mom’s smile on your face as you give him a big hug and he realizes this might be trickier than he thought it’d be.

Eddie’s trip is long and painful, many assholes on the road obnoxiously refusing to let him pass, long mindlessly winding roads, the urge to piss after spending long hours passing semis. Wistfully watching those same semis pass him as he hides in the bushes.

When the door opened, Eddie was surprised to see a pair of eyes a few inches shorter than he’d expected, framed by hair in a tousled bun, a bikini top peeking out from a pretty summer dress. The first thought was wow, she fills out her dress a lot better than I remember. The second thought, brought on by the freckles decorating your skin, was oh shit this is Steve’s daughter.

‘Aah, little Harrington’ was a way to remind himself and you that this was off limits. No matter how intoxicating your perfume was, or how inviting the knot tying your bikini top together was. Of course as an evil twist of fate Steve had to be showering when he had arrived only to be greeted by temptation personified, his presence needed as he found it stupid easy to fall in conversation with you, keeping his distance so he didn’t do something stupid.

You offer to grab him something, being a good host, but Eddie needed to tread carefully as he recalls Steve jokingly remarking how you had a small crush on him over the years.

He’ll get over the reminder that you’re now in your 20s, filling out a summer dress and making him wonder what present that string is possibly hiding underneath the thin fabric. He had to.

He denied your offer to make him something.

As your summer dress hit the cement, revealing the just barely there bikini he ripped his eyes away from your glowing skin, reminding himself what he was not there to do. Steve found him sitting on the couch absently strumming Carla, immediately accusing his daughter of not offering any hospitality.

He was out the backdoor before Eddie could even protest. At Steve’s insistence Eddie followed him back into the kitchen, forced to sit on the island as he worked at making a hot meal for him. Answering the basic how are you questions was easy, the hardest part was keeping his eyes off you through the still opened double doors.

It became impossible when the plate was set in front of him as Steve left the room to bring Eddie’s bags to the guest room.

The image of you gliding through the pool, droplets scattered on your shimmering skin as your legs broke through the water’s surface tension was alluring in a way that only depleted his appetite for lunch.

His one saving grace to prevent him from making any stupid decisions was Steve’s presence. Until it was gone. Fuck, Steve! Out of all possible weekends to have a work emergency you had to pick this one?

He wished he could forget how gentle you were with his things, how forgiving you were to his dorky heart in ways he himself was still so hard himself about. The teasing tone in your voice tugged at his heart strings and low in his stomach, taking him back repeatedly through the long day of packing.

Your tentative touch along his old doodling, listening to him about his favourite Dark Fantasy Novels, the knowledge about his old adventures, the questions you had asked about Wayne…everything you had dared to say only drew you closer to him.

It was a delicious taste of irony, how Eddie had told himself not to let the close proximity get to him but it turned out to be your curious nature and caring touch that made Eddie drawn to you like a moth to a flame, suddenly craving more intimacy.

The unbearable heat of the following day allowed him to gaslight himself into believing it was all circumstantial, but your tiny gym shorts and the sweat glistening along your skin had invited him, called out to him, before he knew it he had invited himself along on your walk.

Ice cream and a joint had sounded really good, finding himself in too deep when he took a deep nhale of the smoke just to smell your sweat still lingering in the grass, deliberately allowing his fingers to brush against yours.

A sweet whiff of your sweat lingered in the grassy stench, the majority reason for his deep inhale as the smoke filled his lungs. It hit the spot, smirking as he handed it over back to you, letting his fingers linger as a jolt of electricity ran right through him.

He found it too easy to fall into conversation with you, teasing and poking and finding a thrill out of the V that so easily formed between your brows. Found it even easier to use so much as his hand on your shoulder to fix your gait as you start to drift to the right or catch your wrist when you nearly nose dive.

He thought you must be trying to kill him when the smoke blew in his face, wanting to return the favor by planting his lips on yours and exhaling his next turn right to your lungs. The following sound you would’ve let out haunted Eddie, just the potential alone releasing an ache in his gut that he hasn’t felt in years.

He watched in real time as you lost your inhibitions, stumbling over your feet and repeating sentences and losing your train of thought. He wondered if you had felt your skin also ablaze when he kept finding the excuse to let your skin connect. At first it was just an excuse, soon became a necessity once you nearly nose dived, catching your wrist.

You seemed to barely notice.

He’d never quite felt jealousy as intense as it was when you mentioned your ex boyfriend, a concerning level of relief taking over him when he’d realized how little you even cared he was there, too distracted by the ice cream.

Eddie went through a world wind of emotions when you’d started lapping your tongue all over the sweet treat, humming delight at the taste and completely disregarding any present company.

He almost lost his mind when you had admitted your ex had only been mediocre with you in bed. The mental spiral he had gone through was swift and winded him, wondering how if anyone would be lucky enough to find themselves in such a position would they manage to mess it up so royally? Knowing if he’d ever give in to that most primal of desires of his, he’d take advantage of any possible moment he’d have between your thighs, make it his mission to have your legs shiver and shake for him.

He’d lap every drop of arousal you’d give him, taking every whine and moan as gospel, eager and willing to give you everything, craving the taste of you on his tongue, to watch you squirm and for him- it sent all the blood from his brain to his dick.

His spiral is squished, the fucker’s hand suddenly tight on your skin, audaciously demanding he have another trial in mediocrity. It was too easy to bend his arm backward, nearly breaking it in the process as he found great joy in how quickly his tough guy macho front collapsed.

Luckily, you forgot about it like it never happened. Unluckily, you made it your goddamn mission to eat the ice cream as erotically as you possibly could. Eddie didn’t even think you were aware of the drops on your tits, watching as you indulge so eagerly, all your slurps and hums of satisfaction going straight to his cock.

God damn the angel that had decided to fuck with him that day, the one that had told you to spend an ungodly amount of time cleaning up the ice cream which didn’t help had the same colour as a certain substance.

You’ve gone quiet as he is, but he starts to worry that maybe he overstepped or made you uncomfortable. That worry only intensified when you admit you’ve smoked way past your own limit, wondering if he had somehow pushed you into smoking more. He needs you to know its ok to listen to yourself, lifting your chin to look up to him— and fuck he takes in your beautiful face up close.

Eddie convinced himself he fucked up worse when you run off.

As he strums his guitar, the chords and melodies come out all jumbled as the nagging worry only grows. He can usually hear your shower from downstairs but the stream hasn’t started yet. Oh god, what if you’ve greened out? You didn’t smoke very much but he had no idea where that boundary for you was.

You could’ve been normally done after three puffs for all he knew. Maybe he’ll just go check on you, the incessant need to make sure you’re okay after withdrawing as hard as you did eating his brain away.

His knuckles nearly collide with the door when he first hears it.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s hearing until he hears it again, clearer and far more distinct.

Oh.

You weren’t going for a shower.

Eddie stops breathing. In the middle of the hallway, he doesn’t allow himself to move a muscle, two halves of a whole person fighting within himself.

He should move. He should put his ear against the door. He should put some pressure on this aching cock of his. He should offer you help. He should leave.

Your moans are intertwined with sighs and whimpers, no words to indicate anything and Eddie goes nuts wanting to see you.

What are you doing? Are you using your fingers in that tight little pussy of yours? Overstimulating your clit? Using a vibrator— no, he doesn’t hear any buzzing… A choked out swear passes through your lips, god those soft pillowy lips he just wants to spend hours kissing.

Images flash through his brain, your tongue wrapped around the ice cream, the drips landing on your tits you didn’t notice, your doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes— Eddie keels over, grasping at the frame of your door as he finally relieves some of the pent up pressure. Fuck—its not enough.

Your moaning has gotten louder, lost in the pleasure you’re giving yourself. Fuck, he wonders what has gotten you so worked up. Are you picturing anyone with you? Is it a side effect of the weed you smoked? Are you driven mad by him like he is by you? As it gets louder he realizes…oh fuck you’re about to— Jesus.

He hopes he has the privilege of seeing you go over the edge one of these days.

He thinks its over for a moment but you start again…and now Eddie really can’t help it anymore he has to fuck…he hisses loudly when his cock finally comes in contact with his hand, the head flushed with a bright red tint.

No wonder he’s being so careless, all the blood is gone from his brain.

For the first time since apprehensively seeing your nipples peaked from behind your adorable little bikini at the front door he allows himself to imagine himself with you with his hand around himself. He imagines its him, Eddie, making you whine as much as you are, the desperate whines and pathetic little cries coming from you the result of him situated between your legs and fucking you with his tongue.

It would taste better than the ice cream did, he knows it would.

His hand flexes, wishing he could play and grope your tit, watch how the you react to him tweaking your nipple playfully. Fuck— did you just cum again?

“Oh fucking hell!” You swear, not sounding in the least bit tired.

All the needs, the questions Eddie has been masochistically asking himself has him being needy, whispering out little pleases as he needs to touch you, to see you, to know what the hell is on your mind. “Please, please, baby, please, ‘need to see that hot fucking body wiggle and curl and shake and fuck please let it be for me. I want it to be for me.”

Eddie has never been so desperate that he needed something like this, more stoned off the moans that fill the halls rather than the joint he shared with you. It was like he was only a step away from his lips on yours, but that little allowance he gave himself earlier is no longer enough, needing your lips to be carnally captured by his, to hear the whimper you let out when he bites your bottom lip, to lick the swollen sting in an apology.

God he can’t remember the last time the thought of someone like this made him this viscerally desperate. Your moans grow louder, on the precipice of yet another orgasm and suddenly Eddie finds himself hurdling towards the finish line. “Come on baby, one more. Cum one more time for me. Let me hear you, just one more time, please.”

As if his wish was your command, you push over the edge in what sounds like an earth shattering, thigh twitching, eyes rolling orgasm. He’s willing to bet you made a mess on your bed, quaking limbs and gasping after shocks as you wear a prettily stupid smile on your face and turn over your sheets to look for your phone.

Eddie grips the door frame, staring at the sticky substance on his hands he wishes you’d lick up the same way you did with the ice cream soup. For now…he’ll wash it off.

As he shakily washes his hands, he finally reaches his eyes in his reflection, knowing that was the only time he’d let himself indulge in the fantasy you’re practically serving to him on a silver platter.

Twenty minutes later, you come down glowing, a bright smile on your face with wet hair and a new summer dress that has his hands itching to rake all over you. It takes five minutes of contemplating for Eddie to realize that this is what you look like after really good sex. He’s rock hard again, and you’re wearing too much clothes.

He’s flushed at your uncharacteristically good attitude, at the knowledge if you were his you’d be this upbeat all the time if he had anything to do with it.

You ask him if he wants pizza, smiling sweetly when he boops your nose and accept graciously. As the dress sways across the top of your thigh while you walk into the living room, Eddie lets out a small grunt as his forehead meets the cool marble counter.

He’s fucked.

The mouthwatering smell of pepperoni and green peppers with sausage made your good mood only increase, after effects of the joints and three orgasms now combined with the pizza turning your sour mood to euphoric. The sun still beats down in a horrid, blazing heat, but for now these things outweigh the muggy outdoors.

You slip the driver some cash, multitasking as you open the box simultaneously to take the first bite. You suffer through the first bite, much too hot as the driver compliments the front foyer in the Harrington house. The door shuts on him as you thank him, Eddie glowering at his wandering eyes over your shoulder that you missed through the entire interaction.

Eddie grabs the boxes from you, cheekily grinning as he insists you must be trying to hurt yourself. You shrug playfully, grinning through the bites that are still much too hot but oh so delicious.

His grin feels looser, more playful, something you wonder if its just a Jedi mind trick.

His hips collide with yours as he goes to grab a plate, serving himself some of his own pizza, (cheddar, chicken, and mushrooms) his hand lingering on your hip as he leans over to steal a piece from your pie, too.

“Who said you could have some of mine?” You ask, reaching for the piece to snatch it back.

He yanks it from your reach, his pretty dimples plain as day as you jump with no such success. “Is that really the best you can do?”

You scoff, jaw dropping as you reach for it again. “It’s easy for you to say when you’ve got—“ you huff, the piece just out of reach, “—3 or 4 inches on me at least.”

One side of Eddie’s pink lips curl up in a playful snarl, “Oh, more than that, I promise.”

You stop jumping, eyes going wide at the innuendo. “Fine, you can have it.”

“Didn’t ask for permission, but I appreciate it anyway, sweetheart,” he winks, taking a big bite from it. Ok, eating pizza should not be this sexy, you muse, watching the tomato sauce spill over his lips, and the tongue that pokes out to lap it up.

His cologne is back to overwhelming your nostrils, enveloping you in a sweet musky scent as you reach to grab some more slices for your plate.

“You know you can have some of mine,” he’s leant in, his voice low and hot breath right next to your ear sending a well defined shiver down your spine.

Your face twists in disgust as you glance at it, reaching for the garlic fingers, instead. “No thanks.”

He laughs, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “What?”

“Not a fan of mushrooms,” you shrug, moving around him for a soft drink. “Soda?”

“You’re missing out,” he insists, taking a big bite out of a particularly mushroomy piece. “Sure, sweets.”

Yesterday Eddie hadn’t gotten closer to you than necessary, always staying at least one pace away from you. Suddenly he’s in your space, leaning in and choking you with his velvet voice and overwhelming presence. That walk must’ve done really well in terms of familiarity, remembering how easy going he usually is with your dad.

“Rent a movie with me?” You ask, nodding your head toward the living room.

“As long as it’s horror and something you’ve never seen before,” he barters, picking up his plate as if he was already planning on joining you.

“Ooh, can we watch Smile?” You flick the tv to on Demand, showing rental options of movies that have just come out.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” Eddie easily grabs the remote from your grasp, switching the screen to Horror movies in stead . “It has to be something I have seen. Meaning I’m showing you a Classic. You ever seen The Poltergeist?”

You blanch, shaking your head quickly.

Laughs bubble up his throat, watching how worried your face immediately becomes in a split second. “Don’t worry. We can shut it off if it gets too much, but it’s just such a Classic.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly remembering he’s in his 40s. “Yeah, it came out when you were dropping out of college.”

He flicks your temple, huffing out a laugh at your yelp. “Shithead. Now sit and watch.”

You get comfortable, bringing the ice cold soda can to your lips as the movie turns on, increasingly aware of his presence on the couch next to you.

It was a fucking scary movie, but his consistent explanations made it worth it.

The temperature ended up cooling overnight, allowing for a deep sleep while a single top sheet frayed over your body, delicately protecting it as you sleep well into the morning. You barely remember falling asleep on the couch last night, the memory of Eddie waking you and escorting you to your bed replaying through your mind as you hug your knees and hide your wide smile against your kneecap.

His hand on your waist, thumb swaying against your cotton shirt as he asked how it is that someone manages to fall asleep during The Poltergeist, huffing out a laugh at the subsequent pout that took over your face. His low voice asked if you needed any water, his hand pausing right before it gently caressed your hairline as you drifted asleep.

The hot spray of the shower was just what you needed, doing your best not to over analyze his sudden closeness as you let the steam fill your bathroom. The too small towel barely covers the good bits as you walk towards your bedroom door, water beads scattered across your skin from your damp hair that you probably should’ve spent more time drying.

Not your fault your sister had a nicer en-suite shower than you did.

You’re only a few paces from your bedroom door when you hear what sounds like someone choking, followed by a coughing fit. You whip around to face Eddie covering his mouth with his elbow, hacking as he raises his finger to indicate he’s fine. You couldn’t be sure, but when he lowers his arm it looks like there’s a faint blush across his cheeks.

“Sorry! I was coming to check up on you it’s almost 1’clock in the afternoon,” he coughs, anxiously avoiding your stare as you stand still holding your towel up clenched in one fist. “So-sorry I’ll let you get back to it.”

You smile, taking advantage of his sudden nervous stature, looking suddenly a few inches shorter than he normally does. “You’ve seen me less in a bikini,” you deadpan, missing the way the towel slowly starts to reveal your hips and Eddie’s eyes zoning in on it.

“Right. In any case I made you lunch, if you’re up for it that is,” he tells you, clearing his throat as he plays with the scrunchie on his wrist.

“I thought rockstars all sleep in,” you joke, tilting your head as you look at him.

“I lost the ability to last year,” he quips back, smirking. “You also went to bed last night at 2 so it’s nearly been twelve hours, forgive me if I thought I had the merit to be concerned.”

“The merit?” You can’t resist it, his squirminess as you just stand in a towel is so entertaining you could burst, not even attempting to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I made god damned grilled cheese and tomato soup for you and this is how you repay me?” He exclaims, one pierced eyebrow rising. “Guess you don’t want it.”

“No!” You protest, your fun suddenly forgotten. God, how’d he know your favorite lunch? “Give me five, maybe ten minutes.”

“I’m timing you on that,” Eddie points to his watch, something probably more subtly expensive than you could guess. “9 minutes and counting!”

Eddie climbs down the stairs, finally able to take a deep breath at the bottom as he braces his hands on his knees. The image of you flashed through his mind, the towel hugging your tits pressing up against them perfectly to knock the wind out of him. As if that weren’t enough, the slit of your towel where at first your leg alone was peeking out became wider and wider, slowly revealing the droplets that still lingered on your skin, finding himself envious of water as it trailed down to where he couldn’t see, hands flexing as he wanted to trace that very pattern.

You apparently made no effort with the towel before making your way over to your bedroom because you were still soaked from your shower, hundreds of little droplets covering your skin, some trailing down from your still soaked hair. It was ethereal, watching the shine of your collarbone and that slow rising reveal of your hips.

Damn. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s been hard twice within the same four hours. Morning wood is typical, though more uncommon these days, but a damn collarbone? Is he back in goddamn high school?

The temptation to retreat back to his guest room to relieve himself is too much, but for whatever reason he can’t bring himself to. Distraction…distraction.

Something that caught his eyes during his first day suddenly flashed through his mind, a mess of twigs and leaves and branches that has obviously gone years without any maintenance. By the time you get downstairs in yet another stunning summer dress, Eddie has found an old pair of gardening gloves and has already filled one large black garbage bag, already well on to fill a second one.

His hair is done in a loose bun that has already started to come undone, his tongue sticking out as he tries to pull apart one branch off to break the larger branch down into continuously smaller pieces. He has taken advantage of the Bluetooth speaker Steve keeps for the outdoors, blasting music reminiscent of many backyard sunny afternoons swimming and playing and tussling for hours.

His toned arms are practically bulging as he continues the yard work, glistening in a sheen layer of sweat in the hot sun, as he continually gathers weeds and the straggler branches that have blown into the fire pit over the years.

The fire pit is extremely overgrown due to lack of use, the regular use of the pit gone down significantly once your older sister moved out, no longer taking advantage of the extravagant backyard for major parties. You never had interest in hosting any parties, the clean up for the host not worth it in your humble opinion. Steve continued to hire one of the few pool boys available in Hawkins for the outdoor pool, but also saw no need to continue the maintenance of the pit.

By the time you had put the bowl and plate away in the dishwasher, Eddie had already cleared most of the fire pit and was deep in the shed, from the sounds and swears he was making it was clear he was looking for something.

You were sitting on your favorite poolside chair with a good book and some cut up watermelon you stole from the fridge when Eddie comes out pushing the lawnmower, arms fully extended as he struggles through the admittedly tall grass. A gush of watermelon juice runs down your chin as he wipes his forehead and bends to assess the machine, admiring how his hands gently rub any debris or dust that has collected over the years.

As soon as the loud motor of the lawn mower fills the backyard, it drowns the music so you turn it up on the speakers, reciprocating the single handed wave Eddie gives you in either gratitude or acknowledgement. Even with the pages of the filthy smut filled book opened, your eyes don’t stay on the pages for any longer than a second. It takes for Eddie to go from fence to fence (in a stupidly large backyard) twice for you to read a full paragraph that would usually have you on the edge of your seat.

Sorry, two characters who have finally brought their heads out of their asses and admitted their own feelings and are subsequently hooking up in a place they should not be hooking up with, Eddie Munson’s sweaty biceps are taking front row. You swallow a dry throat, the concept of water suddenly flashing through your stupid head.

You’ve been watching Eddie do manual labour in a hot sun for the better part of an hour now and he’s probably parched. You run off indoors, the air conditioned house tingling as you feel each and every goose bump that forms, looking through the fridge for something, you’re not sure.

For one moment you consider grabbing the lemonade powder from the cupboard, though that might be too on the nose. You scoop the neck of a beer bottle, dripping in condensation and the second tub of watermelon, your sandals flapping loudly until you reach the grass again, meeting him as he fills the garbage bag with the cut grass.

“Need some hydration?” You call out, holding the glass bottle to him.

“Oh, Jesus, thank you,” he sighs, tipping back the bottle, his adam’s apple deliciously bobbing as he engulfs it.

“Should’ve brought something non-alcoholic, if you’re gonna down it that quickly,” you mutter, licking your lips as you watch some of it spill and drip down his chin.

“Nah, beer’s perfec-hey, watermelon, fuck, perfect.” He grabs a larger piece from the tupperware in your other hand,one that by the time he rushes into his mouth has already begun to drip down his fingers, wrist, and forearm. When your eyes flicker back up to his face, he’s already messily chewing on the watermelon, the pink juice flowing down his chin. As he enjoys the juice that is supposedly bursting onto his tastebuds.

Eddie Munson eats slowly, he enjoys every possible second of what he eats. Not an ounce goes to waste, if he can help it from the stickiness to his thumb to the drool on his chin, he takes it all in. It drives you mental with sudden lust, squeezing your thighs together as he goes in for more watermelon. How has the pure erotic connotation of this fruit completely evaded your mind? You might as well have given him chocolate covered strawberries, you slut.

Every piece is worse than the last one, it’s like he’s purposely driving you completely mad with hormones and blinding any sense of logic you might have, your toes curling as he slowly makes his way through the chunks.

“You want some?” Eddie offers, quickly shaking you out of your trance.

You clear your throat, gesturing to the empty tub right next to your chair. “Oh, I already had a tub. Did you promise my dad you would perform free labor for a free weekend at his house, because that’s extortion, you know.”

He laughs, in the middle of taking a sip that quickly turns into a coughing fit. “No, believe it or not, I’m crazy enough to be doing this of my own free will. I also happen to have a lot of experience in landscaping.”

Your lips purse, your eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to recall any mentioning of landscaping in any magazine article or one of your dad’s many stories.

“I mowed lawns around town,” he deadpans, chuckling when he sees it click. “I also mowed lawns around LA when I first arrived. It paid for a few amps, some recording studio time, groceries. Working at the record store only paid so much, you know?”

You nod, grabbing one piece and ‘cheersing’ when he offers, picturing young Eddie Munson who’s still unknown, overworking himself to the bone so that he and his band could one day, hopefully make it. The long hours, the sore feet, the stress of hoping and working, it pinches at your heart, squeezing it but his face doesn’t give away any of the negative feelings that comes from working so hard for so long with such bare results.

He’s looking at it from a lens of nostalgia, how eager he was to learn, the eyerolls of his customers who overpaid him to simply trim their lawn at his answer ‘musician’ when they asked him what he did for work. How across those same lawns its a party trick. Eddie Munson once cut my father’s lawn in the summer of 91, true story.

Half those people he’s probably never met, but he’s willing to be someone’s little white lie, after all he dreamed about days like these.

“I considered getting into the pool cleaning business but it was too much to learn and too many bored moms looking for a fantasy in their pool boys. I’m good, I just needed the money. I heard that lost it’s merit after three.”

“Who’d you learn that from?” You grin, seeing a twinkle in his eye.

He laughs again, chewing on some more of the pink juicy fruit you couldn’t help but watch carefully.”Gareth,” he muses, speaking of his band’s drummer who bores a sick goatee and once blonde long locks he chopped off a few years ago much to the dismay of many fangirls. “He said it was the best gig ever then took it (and his gear) back the following week.”

From what you know about their band and their quirks, that sounds like Gareth.

“I’m gonna get back to it. I should be done at least the brunt of it in an hour or so. Do me a favor and keep checking me out, it’s doing numbers for my already large ego,” he winks, taking the final sip of his beer.

You go speechless, your mouth that was once somewhat hydrated from the melon now cotton dry. “I was-I was not–”

“I was teasing you, sweetheart. But hey me thinks the lady doth protest too much”

“I didn’t even protest!” you argue, bearing your forearms toward him feeling like you’re in the middle of a performance with how amazingly dramatic and tense the situation has become.

“Oh, no, you couldn’t even speak,” Eddie smirks, leaning over to yank on the cord of the machine, drowning out your argument.

Not like anything’ll happen, anyway, you shrug, walking back over to your book.

Sometime in the later afternoon after you help Eddie put all the garbage bags at a hidden corner of the yard, he decides to go in for a shower, his stinky musk acting as a strong pheromone.

You don’t even notice him come back down, sat on the cool couch indoors as the filthy scene has finally caught your attention. The character is overcoming her first orgasm and bewildered when her love interest goes in for more when your flow is interrupted by Eddie, as bag of marshmallows between his gritted teeth and cradling a few more indecipherable ingredients as he nods toward the outside.

When you hit the backyard the outdoor string of lights has been turned on, two chairs by the fire in the pit one with a blanket, soft rock music on in the background as Eddie puts down all the ingredients.

“Wh-what is this?” You ask him as your heart pounds in your chest hard.

“I uh–” he clears his throat, biting his thumb, “I just thought we could enjoy this fire pit that has spent so many years feeling useless. Let’s give it a night of change.”

“You cleaned out the fire pit because you felt sorry for it?” You clarify, shooting a pointed glance toward him.

“Not in so many words,” he reframes, scratching his neck. “Though I thought it must be jealous of his neighbor for still getting maintained all these years.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muse, staring up at his brown eyes that don’t reach yours. “And sweet,” you add, biting back giggles when he breaks into a smile. “I’m sure our fire pit would love a night where he’s the center of attention again.”

“He?” Eddie points out, the eyebrow piercing hitting the sunset as they meet his hairline.

“You’re the one who said it must be jealous” you point out, walking over to the chair with the blanket.

As soon as your thighs hit the chair, Eddie wastes no time. “So, What was your dad’s opinion of what was it, Mark? Matthew?”

“Andy,” you mend, not caring if even got the name wrong.Getting the first letter wrong somehow made you feel better, as Andy was barely a blip on your radar as far as your weekend goes. “And he hated him. Tried to hide it, didn’t do a very good job of it, though.”

“Your dad has hated many boyfriends from what I can remember,” Eddie mutters, legs crossed as he stares right into the fire. The fire makes his brown eyes look brazenly dashing and a little on the wild side.

“My sisters and I didn’t all have the best track record of boys in high school,” you admit, suddenly feel the elephant in the room, or yard, that is your age difference that still has yet to be discussed. “College boys are even worse, honestly.”

“Men aren’t much better,” Eddie shakes his head, squinting comically.

“I think there’s a few good ones out there,” you mutter, only staring straight into the fire. “But back to my dad. Andy in specifically I think was his least favorite in the bunch because they just butted heads, all the time.”

“Why stay with a guy like that for two years?” Eddie asks. You look at him, having answered a question that feels accusatory from anyone else with defensiveness. The need to defend the seventeen year old girl dies in your throat when you see his expression, complete curiosity. “Expert in gaslighting and lovebombing and making an insult feel like a compliment. God all the time I wasted on him feeling like I wasn’t good enough–” you sigh, shaking yourself out of it. “Looking back it’s a parade of red flags.”

“Everything in hindsight,” Eddie amends, colliding his shoulder with yours as an act of comfort. “Sorry to bring it up he just seemed–he bothered me.”

“Acting like he’s too smart for college is so like him,” you admit, shaking your head. “What a dick.”

Eddie bursts out in laughter, handing you a cold opened beer bottle. Usually you turn down the wheaty drink if you can, but for his kindness and grand gesture you bring the bottle to your lips anyway after cheersing with him.

He’s in the middle asking about how you think you will do once you continue into your fifth year of college working towards your masters in psychology when the playlist shuffles into a song by Corroded Coffin, one of the only genuine love songs the band has ever produced.

“I love this song,” you muse, swaying to the start of a luck struck tale. It speaks of a girl at 18, wild smiles and pretty eyes meeting a boy of 19, lost and alone and aimless.

“I bet you do,” Eddie smiles, no malice behind his words.

You jerk, sending him the silent question of why?

“You really don’t know?” He asks, leaning back in his chair with wide eyes when you confirm. “Huh.”

“What?” You ask, staring to hum along when the upbeat chorus comes along, just two kids in a crazy world, how simple can this be just a boy and a girl, softly smiling at the hook and title of the song. “What?”

“I wrote this song about your parents,” Eddie mutters, looking off past the fire. “I started writing it early on in their relationship but only realized I’d release it when your dad proposed. I knew when he met her that she was the one for him.”

You smile, only vague memories of your mom flittering around in your mind, mostly hospital visits and playing cards with her and your siblings as she wore a beautiful vivid scarf on her head. “I didn’t know that,” the pressure that builds behind your eyes blurs the orange flames, the bridge suddenly making far too much sense and wondering how you’ve never connected it before.

Or why no one has ever told you.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, the beer bottle pausing on the way to his lips.

“I’m okay,” you smile, one stupid tear breaking free on the last chorus. “Just taken aback.”

“I’m sorry if I–” he starts, his voice drowning in remorse.

“It’s ok,” you nod, taking a sip of the alcohol to kill some of the grief you felt. “Really. Can we talk about something else now?”

He nods, walking around the fire to a few things you still haven’t noticed, pokey sticks. He sheathes a marshmallow on one of the prongs followed by another, hanging the pokey to you carefully. “S’more?”

You grin, nodding as you grab it from him and ignoring the warmth from his fingers brushing against yours gives you. “I suppose. Although it seems we are ignoring our dinner,” you joke, pointing out the hot dogs he also brought out.

“Dinner schminner,” Eddie dismisses, sitting back down. “We have s’mores, instead.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” you accuse, resting the stick on the edge of the pit. “Wait til my father hears about this,” you mutter in your best british accent, terribly butchering it.

“First of all,” Eddie huffs, unable to hold in his laughter. “That was the worst English accent I’ve ever heard in my life. That sucked.” Your fists collides with his knee, barking out laughter at his ‘ow!’ “Hey! I’m roasting marshmallows here, careful, it’s a very delicate process!”

“You deserved that, even if it’s true you just made me cry and now I’m emotionally vulnerable. I could’ve very well burst into tears from your insult!” You can’t even take yourself seriously, bursting into giggles by the halfway point. “Okay, what was second of all?”

“I don’t like to brag but I once met Daniel Radcliffe at one of my shows,” he shrugs, as if it were no big deal, failing to hide how gleeful it t ruly made him feel.

“First, you seem like the type of person who loves to brag, second, you seem very excited about it and I’m not at all jealous you got to meet him. He seems so cool and genuine.”

“That’s just the thing, he really is that cool and genuine and it was the most bizarre thing,” Eddie shakes his head, twirling the stick around. “The most random of people come to our shows and I’m always shocked when they say they like us because it still feels so unreal.”

“Twenty some odd years and it still feels like a dream?” You ask, watching a look of bewilderment take over his face that could never be faked. “That’s really cool, oh shit.” You tug in your marshmallows, one of them extra crispy as you blow out the flame. “Fuck,” you mutter, having hated burnt marshmallows.

“Wanna trade? I love the burnt ones,” Eddie grins, holding out the perfectly golden brown mallows.

You rapidly nod, biting on your bottom lip.

Its a struggle to get the gooey treats onto the chocolates and graham crackers, neither of you having the foresight to unwrap the damn things before roasting the star pieces of the treats. Eddie takes the trouble all in good stride, laughing as one of yours almost falls off the prong before he can get the graham cracker ready.

The first one of yours is already done by the time he sits with his own, having insisted he didn’t need help and to go fucking sit down already.

“How are they?” He takes a bite, nodding in approval before you can answer.

“Really good,” you hum, your voice muffled in chocolatey gooyness as your fingers continue to get sticky.

“Hmm, yeah that hits the stuff,” he appreciates, wet smacking as he works through his s’more so quickly you’re not even sure he was chewing. “Oh, just what I needed after a long day of yard work.”

“You did that voluntarily,” you remind him, taking alas the final taste of a delicious s’more. It might’ve been the best damn one you’ve ever had.

“Guess I just needed a reminder of what a long day of hard work looks like,” he shrugs, pausing in his bites as something crosses his mind. The thought goes away just as quickly, continuing to finish off his s’more.

The sun has nearly disappeared into the horizon, a beautiful dark blue starting to overhaul the once crystal. The conversation dwindles down, the loud crack of the fire pit and background music filling the air instead.

You think it’s the perfect ending to your days spent together.

Until.

‘“I have a stupid idea.” He says, his knee knocking yours.

“Hmm?” you ask, hazy from your third beer.

“In the mood for a swim?”

Thank you so much for reading! Remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr!

Main taglist: @alastorssimp @mmunson86 @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovely @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420 @joequiinn @arlxtoa

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I can’t wait for y’all to read the next ch

I post each part every Thursday, the taglist is still open <3

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glitterfang · 1 year ago

Text

star bikini eddie inspired by @melonalemonade ‘a original post!

#eddie munson #steddie fanart #steddie

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floredaqueen · 3 months ago

Text

...𝐒𝐨𝐦��𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐏𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧'...

𝔹𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕓 18+

𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀

.♡♡♡.

"You want to what?" Nova questions as she shuts her locker door. She was puzzled by the "Freak's" questions as she walked beside him, holding every single textbook that was in it, along with her already heavy bag. Immediately, before he could say what was on his mine, his hands gravitated towards the heavy load in her hands, taking almost every book to help the socialite carry.

"Work for yo- for your dad," Eddie restates, counting how many more steps she has to take to keep up with him.

Summer was starting soon, but this time, Eddie won't be returning for another year of torure and false hope. He can finally go on with his life. Even as he, without question, lightened her load by taking a few of her textbooks to hold himself, he thought about all the free time he'd have. He might as well spend it doing something productive.. and hanging out with his "special" friend.

They were wayy more than friends, but they didn't put a label on it. Eddie didn't want to admit it, but he suggested it for Nova's sake. He knew she'd be outcasted even more if they became a couple, and it would suck to watch her be chastised and criticized because of him.. and so, begrudgingly, he suggested to keep this arrangement between them.

Nova had an inkling about it but decided not to press the issue for it to turn into an argument.. besides, she knew in a few weeks it wouldn't matter anyway. He'd be able to get rid of the freak stigma surrounding his person, and take what was his. But for now, she was fine with him being her dirty little secret. She enjoyed their time alone anyways, which is why she was skimming past all the job positions her father still needed to fill.

"Can you swim?" She questioned, her dark foxy eyes looking up to the slightly brooding melthead. In response, he offered a shrug and a nod.

"I.. can swim as good as the next guy," His voice became melodic as he spoke.

"Do you have swimwear?" The 2nd-in-command cheerleader asked, watching Eddie's eyebrows furrow as he took a moment to think about where he had put his swim shorts.

"Probably," that response has Nova rolling her eyes.

"What? I haven't been swimming in a long ass time! I also.. don't know where they are," Eddie admitted, obtaining a soft giggle from her as they walked out to the student parking lot. There sat the Freak's band van and the Star's cadillac convertible.

It was a quick trip to Nova's car, both of them setting her books in the backseat before she opened the passenger side to get to the glove compartment. There sat a few of her dad's business cards, Nova grabbing one of them to hand to Ed's.

"Give my dad a call. The only jobs that I think are available are yard groomer and pool boy,"

And with that, she left him on the side of the road with a soft peck on the cheek and a wave as she hightailed it out of the Hawkins High campus.

...

It wasn't that hard for Eddie to get the job, him completely winning over Mr. James, with a few witty jokes and a "ready-to-work," smile, he got the job, both of them, actually. He still didn't know how that happened, but he definitely wasn't complaining. Next thing he knew, he was mowing the grass every Wednesday and cleaning the pool two times a week.

Sometimes, it was quite tiresome, but it did help to see Nova, prancing around in a short dress, a bikini, or barely any clothes at all. It was her house, but it still felt like some type of tease. It was certainly keeping him motivated. Her sneaky little fox smile, her sweet giggles when they would talk a bit on his break, the swell of her ass always finding his groin whenever they'd cross paths around her home.

He was able to ignore it.. until one day.

It was a hot Friday in June, Eddie just finished cleaning the pool so he was putting up all the supplies he had just used. Nothing major, it had only been a few leaves that fell I'm the pool. Other than that, it was mostly clean. Nova knew this, so of course she used it to her advantage.

The metalhead was sweeping up when the socialite walked out, prancing around in a chocolate frilly bikini. The fabric being consumed by her ass had him quietly chuckling and shaking his head. It wasn't quiet enough, though, Nova turning her head as her hands landed on her hips.

"What..?" She questioned, a smile coming to her face. She knew what she was doing, but even so, she played dumb.

Eddie only shrugged, his own goofy smile remaining as he aimlessly swept around.

"Nothing.."

"Something.." She repeated back to him, checking herself out in an outdoor mirror and slightly twisting herself when she turned her back to it.

"What- is there something on my butt?" She asked, checking out her backside in tendem only to find a beautiful curve and back dimples. Eddie found the same thing, trying his best to keep it in his pants and finish up this day.

"No, your butt's fine,"

"Ed's, you're not even sweeping anything anymore." Nova crossed her arms before pointing to the clean surface. The pool boy was mindlessly sweeping. "You've cleaned the walkway entirely,"

Of course, with him being dismissive and her being needy, she walked up to him, using her beauty against him in the only way she could think of. She battered her thick, mascara drenched eyelashes and set her fox eyes in dilation before latching onto his arm.

"Come to the pool with me.. the water is just fine," Her voice turned mellow and sweet. While Nova couldn't see or feel it, she knew Eddie was going to fold. One way or another. But for now, he stayed professional, even if the prettiest girl he's ever seen is shamelessly wanting in his pants.

"I gotta work, sweetheart." His voice is calm, too calm. Within all the time she's known him, he was always known to be so animated. Nova pouted, of course, taking the opportunity to press her lips up against his tatted, muscular arms. He shivered, getting a whiff of the scent in her strawberry maple hair. He only turned to her in nonchalance, his eyes steady even if he wanted to fulfill her wants and needs right then and there.

"Fine.." Nova would huff, backing off of him as she began to relax in one of the floatie reclined chairs. "Will you please get me some lemonade then?" She begrudgingly asked, watching through her blue sunglasses as he sat the broom down.

"No pulp but instead blackberries," the metalhead said to himself as he walked back inside, making his boss's daughter grin stupidly. She only told him that once, and he's never forgotten it since. As forgetful as he likes to act he was always remembering something random about her. How she likes to quote silly things she's seen in movies, or how she likes to fold her socks up in knots after she pulls them off her feet.. or how she likes lemonade with blackberries instead of pulp.

For the rest of the afternoon, the tension was at a low simmer. Eddie would continue working around the pool area, and despite her efforts, avoided creamping Nova against the wall. But by the time 6 pm hit, he was home free. It took him all of thirty minutes to change and back, slipping into black denim and some variation of a sleevless band tee. He carried his duffle to the door when Nova stopped him half way.

"Wait, you're just gonna leave..?" She questioned, a look of surprise on her face.

"Look I gotta get home, or else Wayne'll be pissed," he answered, knowing it was a bullshit excuse because as much as his uncle cared for his safety, he knew where he was. With a heavy disappointed stare, Nova nodded, offering a sweet smile of understanding.

"Okay,"

That crushed him a bit, how even when she knew he was lying through his teeth, she would let him go. It took Eddie all of 5 seconds to walk back through the double doors and smash his lips against hers. She softly exhaled into the kisses.

"You're so damn needy," He rasped breathlessly through the kisses, knowing that he was clinging to the feeling of the warmth in his palms.

"Guilty," She spoke softly in return, no smile or snort, just expressing her need with an intense lip lock.

...

"F-fuck Eds!♡" Eddie found himself lightheaded, his pelvis constantly pounding against the soft, reddened surface that was that plush of Nova's ass. With each yearning thrust, he winced as she whined for more so sweetly. Who was he to deny her such a pleasure?

In no time, her had her on her feet, holding her so tightly against him as he bucked his hips so fiercely. With every slap of his balls came a rippling clinch of her velvet walls. The heels of his feet desperately dug themselves into the sheets, the sounds of her squeals muffled to nothing but a pleasureful note in his mind. It was a constant, nonstop loop of drilling into her soaked and stretched pussy until her thighs began to tremble, lifting herself off of him in habit, the clean slide causing her sweet Ed's to spurt his hot seed as she released gushed her thick squirt.

Then it was right back on for another ride with a slap of her peach buns, By the end of it Nova was sucking the soul from Eddie's very being, gladly taking every inch of his throbbing cock just like he asked.

By the end of it, Eddie was feeding her soft kisses to her everywhere, consoling the petite Nova as she next to him all fucked out and dumbfounded from dick.

"If you wanted to fuck me, you could've just asked.."

"That's what I was doing!"

"Debatable,"

.♡♡♡.

#stranger things #original character #artists on tumblr #stangerthingsoc #cc x oc #eddie stranger things #eddieeeee #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie Munson x f!oc #fic writer #black fic writer #fic writing

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superblysubpar · 1 year ago

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Could I request Steve eating his gf from behind (and taking her from behind too 🤭) while they’re at a summer party and their friends could maybe hear?

the song: Rendezvous by Jenevieve

warnings: little praise kink if you squint/a teeny tiny dom steve with his dialogue | mentions of alcohol

“Baby, shh, come on.”

Steve’s scolding is met with your too loud giggle, with the squeeze of his fingers against yours. The gleam of his teeth in the moonlight tells you he’s not actually mad.

Skin slick with the sweat from the summer day you’ve all had by the lake, the moon replacing the sun doing nothing to soothe the heat. The bonfire’s glow and the drinks being poured into cheap red plastic adding to the buzzing in your stomach that has slowly grown into an ache for the boy who is leading you through the trees.

Blondie crackling from the speakers out of Eddie’s open van doors, the laughter of the party all fading into a quiet din as the orange embers drift lazily into the midnight sky and get lost amongst the stars sparkling above you.

“Steve,” your whine of his name has him licking his lips. Fingers slipping in yours before you grip him harder, your other hand holding his wrist as you stumble along behind him.

You were just as needy as he was and part of him wants to savor it, to tease you and make you beg, but the larger part of him knows this is going to be over quickly. He’s pent up - days without seeing each other only to spend your first day back together with people around you, with your skin exposed in a swimsuit, feeding him strawberries and licking the juice from your fingers with a sparkle in your eyes and-

He spins, unable to hold it all in anymore. You halt abruptly behind him, eyes wide and glancing over your shoulder to where you can’t see the party but its noises aren’t quite as faint as either of you would like. Your gulp is cute and Steve’s fingers trace down your throat as you squeak, “Here?”

Leaves and twigs crunch beneath his sneakers as Steve takes a step closer to you. The boy’s eyes are wild as the pads of his fingers graze down your neck to your shoulders, fiddling with the yellow straps. Steve’s nose brushes yours as he leans in, cherry and whiskey on his breath as he pleads, “You can be quiet, right honey?”

Your whimper makes heat run down his spine and his lips meet yours finally. Warm and wet, gliding easily together and before you can relax into the kiss, Steve is squeezing your hips and pulling away breathless. His fingers tap at your waist, head nodding forward as his nose bumps yours. His request is a breath, almost lost before it meets your ears, “Turn around.”

Your thighs press together at the seriousness of his tone, the way the pupils take over his eyes and the way his groan rumbles deep in his chest when you do as you’re told.

Steve’s chest presses to your back, pushing you both into the large tree in front of you. Your mouth drops open in a gasp as his nose traces your ear. Hands squeezing your hips before they’re sliding down down down the curve of your ass. His lips are wet, breath hot and pulling goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Your fingers curl into the rough bark as you arch your back for him.

The hem of your dress in his fingers bunches and he speaks into your shoulder, “Hold this.”

Nodding your head, your hands scramble off of the tree and reach for it, fingers connecting with his. Steve’s lips and nose travel down your spine as his hands move over the outside of your thighs and back up as he drops to his knees.

Slick pools in the red bikini bottoms as his fingers trace the seam over where they cut high on each of your cheeks. Steve’s lips follow back down, nipping at the curve with his teeth as he cups your ass with both hands and groans. You giggle but it quickly turns into a moan as he pulls the fabric of your suit to the side and brushes a finger through your slit.

Steve sighs at the sight of you dripping on his finger, at the way your thighs try to clamp around his hand. He tuts, nipping at your ass again and smiling against your skin as you whine at his words, “Baby, come on, gotta keep these open f’me.”

Your back arches further for him, legs spreading and both of your stomach’s flip at his praise, “Good girl.”

He holds your suit to the side with skilled fingers, hands spreading your cheeks for him so he can lick through your folds, teasing at your entrance with his tongue. Steve moans into you as you push your hips back against him, his fingers digging into the dough of your ass and leaving bruises.

Your head falls back, a gasp up to the stars as they blink behind your closed eyes when he buries himself deeper, lips finding your clit and holding it between them as his tongue flicks it.

“St-steve,” you stutter as he removes himself from the vibrating nerves, tongue delving lower again.

The plan was to just make you finish, it would be satisfying enough, hold him over.

That’s just not the case anymore.

Steve curses, standing quickly and he swears his belt has never sounded louder than it does then. Jeans and boxers shoved down his thighs quickly, you press your ass into him and he moans as you grind back on his length, precum staining your suit.

“I know, baby, I know, just-” he’s wrecked. He can’t think straight from the whine that bubbles behind your lips, at the sound of the music that’s not that far away. Steve swears he’s left the planet when you reach behind yourself and grab his dick, pumping with your hand slowly. “Christ.”

Steve pulls your suit to the side again and he’s drunk on the way your lips part over his cock, the easy slide from your slick and the breathless ‘fuck’ that leaves your pouting mouth. He slips in and you moan loudly, his hand coming up and pressing over your mouth quickly. Once he’s pushed himself in fully, weight heavy on your back, his arm snakes around your waist and holds you up against him. His lips press to your ear, fingers slipping from your mouth and holding your chin as he breathes out before thrusting slowly, “Baby, shh, you wanna cum right?”

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #superbly subpar steve smut

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

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potential thought that maybe went from fluff to smuty 🥴 but what if ‘as you wish’ eddie one day shares his secret about how he felt that day at the boys birthday pool party and but now they’re together so he finally gets to have some pool/kissy time with reader but she keeps teasing him like maybe she asks him when he first kinda knew he felt something for her and he goes straight to ‘I saw you holding a baby girl and wanted u to have MY baby girl’

You inspired @munson-blurbs and I with this request! I hope you enjoy what we did with it 💛

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, semi-public sex I guess?

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The California night is warm, and the moon is full and bright. Stars twinkle like diamonds in the black sky as Eddie drops two towels down on a chair on the deck of the empty resort pool. The romantic dinner and walk on the beach were a wonderful start to your evening, leading now to you and your husband going for a late night dip. Your husband. The term still fills your tummy with a pleasant tingle and forces a smile on your face. He hasn’t even been your husband for a full week yet, but you’re sure you will never get tired of calling him that. It’s a few days into your honeymoon now, at an upscale resort on a Southern California beach. Luke made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t go to Disneyland without him or his older brother. If it were anyone other than a child, Eddie would have told them he didn’t plan on leaving the room long enough to do much of anything else.

The lights on the pool wall illuminate the refreshing water as you step in, Eddie right behind you. As you submerge up to your waist, you let out a little squeal at the chill water coming up so high on your body. You hear him laugh, until he steps off of the last stair and feels the cold splashing against his lower torso.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his bare chest. His guitar pick necklace presses into your shoulder blade as his fingers dig into the plush of your hips. “Body heat,” he casually offers, and you’re certainly not one to avoid sharing personal space with Eddie Munson.

You turn around and kiss him softly but sensually, gently bringing your core to graze his. You giggle at the quiet moan that escapes his lips. “Just trying to keep you warm, baby,” you tease, leaning in to nip at his bicep.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Mrs. Munson,” he growls in your ear, fingers toying with the halter strings of your bikini top. You weren’t the most comfortable in a swimsuit, but something about the way Eddie looked like he wanted to devour you helped your confidence enough to wear one. “Knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Pulling back slightly, you give him an amused grin. “You knew you’d be feeling me up in a pool when I interviewed for a babysitting job?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie shrugs, stealing a kiss before he says, “I knew I wanted to.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Even though you two are the only ones in the pool, you lean in and whisper in his ear. “When I got home that night, all I could think about was the way you called me ‘Sweetheart’ before I left.”

“Sweetheart, Sweetheart, Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll call you that every second of every day, if that’s what gets you going.”

“All you have to do is look at me to get me going, baby,” you mumble against his mouth before securing your lips over his again. Eddie wades deeper into the water and you can’t even bring yourself to disconnect from him when the water creeps up your shoulders, sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just your husband. Eddie chuckles when he feels you shudder in his arms. He pulls away and presses a few kisses along your neck.

“When did you know?” you ask.

“Hmm?” Eddie hums against your throat.

“When did you know how you really felt about me?” you ask, fingers tangling in the wet curls at the base of his neck.

“You mean, when did I know you were the one?” he asks, giving you a wolfish grin as he pulls away from your neck. “Do you remember that school holiday concert Ryan had? The one where he had the solo in ‘Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?’”

The memory brings a smile to your face, seeing little Ryan out in the middle of the stage, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he sang his part with a shaky voice. “Of course I remember.”

“That’s when I knew it was more than just a crush,” Eddie says, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “Like I said, I felt something instantly the moment I first saw you. But when you came to that concert even when you didn’t have to, just because you wanted to be there? Shit, I knew it was real feelings. Then that first night we slept together? And I didn’t have to hide how badly I wanted you anymore? That’s when I knew I was a goner. Head over heels for you. Disgustingly in love.”

The emotion behind his words sends a warm sensation throughout your body. You cling to him tighter and rest your forehead against his. “I’m disgustingly in love with you as well, just so you know.”

“Then it’s a damn good thing we’re married.”

“Mhmm,” you hum as you take your left hand out of the pool water. The moonlight glints off your engagement and wedding rings, making them look impossibly more beautiful than they already are.

“I gotta be honest with you,” he continues, successfully untying your top and tugging it until it falls off of your body. You barely have time to register the chilly air on your bare breasts before he’s sucking harsh bruises around your nipples. “Seeing you like this reminds me of the first time I saw you in a swimsuit. Only now I actually get to do what I fantasized about.”

You furrow your brow, breath hitching as his clothed erection presses against your thigh. “Wh-When was that?”

“You don’t remember?” Eddie feigns disappointment, and you splash him playfully. “That’s fair. You were actually helping set up Ryan’s birthday party; I was just checking out the hot babysitter.”

Ryan’s birthday party—that was before you and Eddie had ever hooked up. Maybe a flirtatious joke or the exchanging of sweet smiles, but nothing close to sex.

“And just what were you fantasizing about?” You let your fingers dip into the waistband of his navy blue swim trunks.

Eddie’s voice is gravelly, barely above a whisper when he says, “Saw you holding Sinclair and Red’s baby girl and I wanted you to have my baby girl.” He takes your hands and guides you to the pool ledge. “Wanted to bend you over the side of the pool and fuck a baby into you.”

You shoot him a coy smile as you wrap your arms around his neck, draping them over his shoulders. “Better late than never.”

That’s all he needs to hear; he’s tearing off his own swimsuit and tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair. His thick cock lays against his happy trail, all too eager to be inside you. “Need you. Need to be inside you.” You feel his middle finger breach your hole, stretching you comfortably. He pumps it in and out several times before he adds his forefinger, curling both digits and hitting the most sensitive part of your walls again and again.

You’re so close; your warm, wet pussy practically sucking him in as you grip onto the metal ledge. His name is on the tip of your tongue, ready to cry out as that now-familiar pleasure washes over you. But instead of an orgasm, all you feel is emptiness as he withdraws his fingers, popping them in his mouth greedily.

“Wha—why—”

He just chuckles. “Poor baby. You teased me all those years ago in that sexy little swimsuit; now you’re gonna be the one who waits.”

Every part of you wants to protest, to demand that he makes you come right fucking now, but the mischievous gleam in his eye tells you that it’s fruitless.

“Beg for my cock,” he grunts, fist wrapped around his length as he gives it slow, languid strokes. “Beg for me to fill you up till I’m dripping outta you.”

You manage to find enough voice to mumble, “Please, baby. P-Please fill me up a-and put a baby in me.”

“See how easy that was?” With that, he lifts you and positions you so that he’s lined up with your entrance. You moan involuntarily as he pushes inside you, so much bigger than his fingers. Your hands grasp at his shoulders, your nails digging little crescent shapes into his pale skin. “Jesus, Sweetheart. Your pussy was fucking made for me.”

No coherent words are able to form on your tongue, so you just let out breathy whimpers as you rock up and down on his cock. His fingers dig into your hips as he moves with you, low groans slipping from between his lips. The release that he denied you before is building back up.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie stutters out. He knows your body so well that he can tell your impending orgasm is near. “G-Gonna wait until I come first. Think you can do that?” You give the slightest shake of your head as your breathing becomes more labored. “Too bad, because you’re gonna.”

Whimpering, you bury your face in your husband’s neck as you tighten your legs around him. As well as he knows what drives you crazy, you know him just as well. He’s not too far out so as you tighten your legs, you clench your walls around him, knowing that’ll bring him right to the brink.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts. “Playing dirty, I see. You’re lucky it feels so damn good.” His grip around your hips tightens as well, forcing your clit to rub harshly against the thatch of pubic hair. It’s exactly what you needed, and your whining tells Eddie that you can’t hold it back anymore. As much as he’d love to draw it out and make you wait even longer, he knows he wouldn’t be able to last. “Let go, baby. Come on, cum for me.”

The words aren’t even finished leaving his lips before you feel your release wash over you, your hands sliding up to grip at Eddie’s hair as he spills inside of you. He rocks the both of you through it, holding your body as close as he possibly can. A string of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and soft moans escape you as your high begins to come down. Both of you are breathing harshly, your naked chests moving as one as you hold onto each other in the quiet night.

“I love you,” you say, voice soft and exhausted as you rest your head on his shoulder. A lazy grin spreads on Eddie’s face as he moves back until he can lean against the pool wall. His muscles are so tired, but he refuses to let go of you.

“I love you, too,” he says. “So fucking much.” He presses a few kisses into your hair before he huffs a laugh, the puff of air tickling your ear. “So, how soon will we know if I really did fuck a baby into you?”

You pick your head up from his shoulder to see his teasing smirk, but there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes as well. Trying to come up with a witty retort, your mouth falls open instead. Eddie watches as your brow creases and you become lost in thought. Usually, when you’re deep in your own head is when he’ll start to fuck you, to try and relax you. He’s not sure what to do when you seem confused for some reason after you’ve finished.

“I, um,” you finally say. Eddie watches you expectantly as you poke your tongue out to lick over your lips. Your eyes are moving back and forth, and Eddie can just picture some sort of calculations going on in your mind. “I’ve just been so busy. There was all the last minute planning for the wedding, making sure everything was good to go for the honeymoon, so much stress over everything. I don’t—Eddie, I can’t remember.”

“What?” Eddie asks, becoming more confused by the second. “What can’t you remember?”

Your eyes finally meet his. “I didn’t get my period last month.”

You watch a myriad of emotions play over Eddie’s face within the matter of a second. There’s confusion, then shock as your words set in. Pure glee sets in before his mind is even able to fully process the words. But you can see he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so he tries to tamper down the excitement.

“Baby, are you sure?” Eddie asks, voice an octave higher than usual.

“I’m—yeah,” you say. Eddie’s lips are on yours in an instant.

“God, baby,” Eddie says once he pulls away. “I know you might already be, y’know…but I wanna get you back in the room and go a few more rounds just to make sure.”

You look around, seeing that the pool is still empty and relishing in the silence. “Or we could just use one of the lounge chairs?”

Eddie pulls you in for a kiss, smushing your cheeks with his eager hands. “Yup, that seals the deal. You’re the perfect wife.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #request #AYW #AYWS

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jamdoughnutmagician · 5 months ago

Text

Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - part 5

Eddie Munson x Reader

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

Word Count:2,200

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

There’s a quiet natter around the board room table, with all of your co-workers discussing their next big headline or article for Star Magazine.

“Taking the reins:How to be more dominant in life (and the bedroom!)”

“Summer’s hottest bikini styles to cause a splash”

“15 ways to drive your man wild in bed”

Michael stalks around the room, and suddenly everyone falls quiet as they wait to hear what he has to say.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I suppose I’m just going to come out with it.” he huffs before continuing. “The numbers are in and it isn’t looking good, we’re falling just below 500,00 issues of Star Magazine in total circulation. Diamond Magazine, however much it pains me to say this, are closing in on close to a million.”

There’s muffled whispers that scatter between everyone at the table until Michael speaks up again.

“I just got off the phone with corporate and there has been talk of a redesign.”

“You want to redesign Star Magazine? Diamond Magazine does almost everything we do, and we’re the ones that have to redesign?” comes the disgruntled reply of one of your colleagues.

“Either we redesign and try to boost our readership, or they pull the plug and we’re all out of a job.”

“But redesigning our magazine could be a death sentence.” Nancy chimes in.

“No, Nance, it doesn't have to be that way. It’s a chance to have some fun and really shake things up around here. Diamond magazine can have all our second-hand, cast-off ideas, we can do a complete overhaul here, and prove to everyone that Star Magazine still has some sparkle left.” you say, piping up from your seat.

Michael comes up by your side with a wide smile.

“It’s refreshing to see some enthusiasm around here for once. It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, Y/n. I’ll be leaving this is yours and Nancy’s very capable hands, and trusting my dynamic duo to come up with something new and fabulous.”

As you walk out of the boardroom you spot Nancy in the corner whispering to one of her co-workers. Perhaps it’s wrong of you to eavesdrop on conversations that you weren’t a part of, but nonetheless you hang back, just out of sight of Nancy’s gaze.

“..And I need you to hire the best photographer, and I do not want Y/n to find out about this.”

“Understood, Ms.Wheeler.”

“I mean I don’t even know what’s going on with her anymore, but I’m getting real tired of this whole new act that she’s putting on all the time. We need to go ahead with our own presentation, and let Y/n fall on her ass like the loser she is.” Nancy giggles cruelly.

Suddenly it’s like you’re back to being thirteen years old again, hanging out with the popular girls, thinking they’re your friends, only to find out the harsh truth, that they’re all laughing at you behind your back.

You walk through the door of your apartment after work, slumping down onto the sofa. The gnawing pit of upset and embarrassment eating away at you. If that was how Nancy felt about you, then surely that was how everyone felt about you. Maybe you were some ditzy loser who had ideas above her station, and maybe you were to blind to see that everyone else could see right through you.

As you pull your knees up and hug the couch cushion to your chest, you suddenly feel so alone and isolated. No, you were not about to let Nancy win, there would be no more sad moping around for you. You find your feet taking you across the city to the only other apartment you felt safe being in.

You knock your fist against the dark wood door of Eddie’s apartment, silently praying to yourself that he was in.

To your relief the door swings open and there he was. The reassuring brown eyes of your best friend.

“Sorry to drop in on you un-announced like this, but do you wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Eddie nods with a smile, sliding on his leather jacket.

You walk beside each other, down the streets as you fall into step with Eddie.

“So you’re getting married huh?” you ask, hoping to break the silence between you.

“Yeah, in a little over two weeks now.” Eddie replies, his eyes cast down on the pavement as he scuffs his sneakers as he walks.

“So Chrissy’s like your soulmate, right? That’s why you’re marrying her?”

“I don’t know if I believe in soulmates, I think that’s kind of a childish concept.” he says honestly.

“But you get butterflies whenever you’re around her, don’t you?” you pry.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten butterflies about anyone since high-school.” he laughs softly.

There’s so much that’s happened between you now that you’ve both grown up, different lives taking different paths.

“What happened to us, Eddie?” you sigh, your footsteps halting in the street. “I mean, how come we never stayed friends?

“Okay, so we’re having one of those kinds of talks.” he says as he nods over to a nearby bench, motioning for you to sit beside him. “I guess things kind of fell apart right after your thirteenth birthday party. You were shoved into the closet..”

“Yeah, then everybody ditched me like yesterday’s leftovers.” you finish. “That’s the last thing that I remember.”

“Look, we don’t have to get into this, it was such a long time ago, right? I mean, it hardly even matters anymore.” Eddie says, picking at the loose threads of the hole in his dark jeans.

“It matters to me, Eddie. Please just tell me what happened.” you plead.

“Well, I let you out of the closet, and I was going to play you your birthday song on the guitar, but you, and with quite the impressive amount of force for a thirteen-year-old girl might I add, threw at me the princess castle that I had spent weeks putting together for you.” he huffs quietly, running a hand through his dark curls. “After that you just stopped being my friend, so I took the hint, and we never really spoke to each other after that.” He looks so hurt just from remembering what happened, his big brown eyes suddenly without their usual joy-filled sparkle.

You feel awful. How could you have been so cruel and uncaring to the boy who was your only friend in the world. The guilt hits you and you feel your heart sink into the pit of your stomach.

“It’s fine, let’s just forget about it. It was a long time ago, it doesn’t matter.” Eddie brushes off.

“Stop being so nice to me Eddie. I don’t deserve it.” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t have any real friends, I’m pretty sure everyone hates me, I don’t talk to my mom and dad. I’m not a nice person, and the thing is..I’m not the girl I used to be, I’m not thirteen anymore, Eddie.” you say, your voice shaking with emotions.

You get up from the bench, needing to just get away. To walk away from Eddie, and away from the guilt and upset. It all feels like too much for you to deal with. You can’t look at him, because all you can see is the big sad brown eyes of the thirteen year old boy that you shut out of your life.

The next day you buy yourself a train ticket that takes you away from the city all the way back to your small town neighbourhood.

The bustling life of the busy city soon passes by your window, changing into green fields that whizz by like a blur.

You can’t help but look at the group of young girls who laugh and chatter quietly amongst themselves, and think about the young girl that you used to be, about the woman that you are now, and what happened in the in-between years. Were you ever going to be able to go back to the way things used to be? Or was this how your life was to be from now on?

You let yourself into your childhood home, the key clicking into the lock easily. The house was quiet, as you stepped through the threshold. You look around, and it’s almost as if nothing has changed, not a single cushion, picture frame, nor silly little knick-knack was out of place.

Wandering down to the downstairs basement you come face to face with the dark door of the supply closet that Nancy and her gaggle of minions had locked you in all those years ago.

You sit down on the floor inside the closet, closing the door behind yourself, hugging your knees to your chest, as the heaviness in your heart spills over and the tears stream silently down your cheeks.

I just want things to go back to the way they were. You wish, closing your eyes and lean your head back against the shelves behind you with a soft ‘thunk’

Suddenly the door swings open, and there in the doorway is your mother.

“I missed you so much.” you sob, throwing your arms around her and crying into her shoulder.

“Oh darling,” she coos softly, rubbing her hand up and down your back. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

After spending the night unrestfully trying to sleep in your childhood bedroom, you shuffle downstairs to the kitchen where your mother is already up and preparing breakfast.

“Come on down, darling, I hope you're hungry! I’m making pancakes.” she smiles as she sets down a small stack of pancakes drizzled in syrup and decorated with a generous scattering of strawberries and blueberries in front of you.

You cut yourself off a piece to enjoy before taking a sip of your orange juice and then set your glass on the table as your mother sits opposit you at the kitchen table, her cup of coffee billowing little trails of steam in her hands.

“If you were given the opportunity to do-over anything in your life, anything at all, what would it be?”

“It’s a little for philosophical questions like that, don’t you think honey?”

“Mom, please.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing, nothing at all.” she smiles, sipping from her mug.

“Really? You never made a big mistake, like something that ended up changing your life?

Your mother shakes her head at you before answering your question.

“Well, I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I don’t regret making them. If I never made the mistakes in the first place, I would never have learned from them. Making mistakes is what life is about, and if you think you can go through life without making mistakes, then I’m sorry, but you’re not living life right.”

You nod, finally seeing your mom’s point of view. Something that thirteen year-old you would have scoffed and laughed at.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around too much recently, mom.” you mumble hanging your head down.

Your mother reaches across the table to take your hand.

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Back in the city, after staying with your parents for a few days, you’re in your apartment pouring over your old high-school yearbook.

You look at all the photos, and see a picture of Eddie and his band performing at the school’s end-of-year show. He looks in his element, frizzy hair haloing around him, and his hands are working the strings of his black and red guitar to perfection. The rest of the band all looks amazing, but Eddie as the centrepiece of the picture is what captures your imagination. Suddenly you know what you have to do to save Star Magazine.

Underneath nearly all of the pictures in the yearbook is a little credit to the head school’s photography club, Jonathan Byers. He had been a quick fling of Nancy Wheeler’s back in the day before she ditched him when she decided being seen hanging out with him was tainting her ‘cool girl’ image.

You’d personally never had a problem with him, quite the opposite really, he was always very kind and sweet to you, and although your paths never crossed all that much, you often gave him a smile and a little wave as you passed each other in the halls.

Racing to reach for your little black book of phone numbers, you desperately hope that the number you have listed under Jonathan’s name still works.

Putting the phone to your ear, you listen as it rings a few times before it picks up.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end answers cautiously.

“Jonathan, it’s me Y/N, from high-school!”

“Y/N? Yeah I remember you! What can I do for you?”

“I need a guy who’s good with a camera, do you think you can help me out?”

“I think I might know a guy, yeah” he laughs down the line. “You just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, I knew I could rely on you!”

If Star Magazine wanted a rebrand, then a rebrand they were going to get.

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@ali-r3n @aphrogeneias @eddiesxangel

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@optimisticallygarbage @nailbatanddungeon

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader series #eddie munson x reader fanfiction

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