MY HEART IS MOURNING. I AM NOT OKAY. about to vent my feelings out.
stranger things vol 2 spoilers ahead…
“I think it's my year, Henderson. ( struggling ) I think it's finally my year. I love you, man.”
eddie did not fucking deserve that ending. what was the purpose of killing him off like that? other than the duffer bros wanting to stick with their formula of killing off beloved characters they introduce in every season. like he didn’t need to redeem himself to die a hero like some sort of ‘heroic sacrifice”, he didn’t need a redemption arc. the man was GOOD-HEARTED from the get-go. as evident by his interaction with chrissy in the woods, his adoration and care to his club members of hellfire, he was a big bro to the hellfire kiddos, he just wanted to graduate and pass on his hellfire leadership to the kiddos, he went along to the upside down to help his friends, kill vecna, avenge chrissy and then clear his name. LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID HIS DEATH SERVE?
AND THIS LINE BROKE ME! BROKE! HE RAN AWAY FROM PROBLEMS HIS WHOLE LIFE AND THE ONE TIME HE DIDN’T THE ONE TIME HE DESERVED TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT HIS BRAVERY, INSTEAD HE GOT AN UNTIMELY DEATH? FUCK THAT SHIT, YOU HEAR ME DUFFER BROS? FUCK THAT.
HE LITERALLY SACRIFICED HIMSELF FOR A CITY THAT HATED HIM.
the desperation and sadness from dustin, he was losing his big bro, I FELT HIS PAIN!
dustin breaking down after eddie becomes unresponsive— i cried, cried and cried. i don’t remember the last time cried this much tbh. (don’t get me started on that lucas and max scene, oh my heart! somebody sedate me!)
you know what angers me more? eddie didn’t even get a funeral. no one got his body from the upside down? i don’t get it. everybody seemed to move on quickly? the more i think about, the more it angers me. no one mourned for eddie except for dustin and his uncle wayne.
are they gonna bring him back like hopper? my gut says it’s final eddie is gone gone but my heart thinks it might be a s03 hopper situation. i’m clearly still in the denial stage. yeah, i am delusional. I JUST WANT EDDIE BACK.
it’s the way they get us attached to characters like alexei, bob and eddie just to kill them right after they are introduced and rip our hearts out. THIS IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS BULLSHIT.
vol 2 is such an emotional rollercoaster, jonathan being the emotional support overprotective big bro to will, max saying she is not ready to die and lucas cry-screaming for erica to call help, eddie dying, dustin crying and holding eddie till his last breath, dustin and uncle wayne mourning for eddie. yeah, what is pain.
in summary, I AM NOT OVER EDDIE’S UNTIMELY DEMISE. IF MAX IS ALIVE AFTER GETTING HER BONES BROKEN IN MULTIPLE PLACES AND HER HEART RESTARTED, EDDIE CAN SURVIVE FROM BEING MAULED BY DEMOBATS FOR FUCKS SAKE. I HAVE A TINY HOPE DURING THIS GRIEVING PERIOD. AND THAT HOPE SHALL SUSTAIN ME UNTILL MY HEART HEALS AND I COME BACK TO REALITY.
p/s: joseph quinn did a beautiful job. he turned eddie into a beloved and an unforgettable character. not only good-looking and have the most beautiful big ol’ brown eyes, he is very very talented actor. hope he continues to flourish and get more acting gigs. i’m gonna go search and watch his other roles… that might help mend my heart me thinks.
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sooo, I made a steddie playlist….
(also very open to song suggestions ! )
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.
virgin eddie munson x experienced fem reader
summary: you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ minors dni, no use of y/n (use of pet names), non consensual sharing of nudes, reader technically cheats, big dick eddie, slight fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected p in v, cream pie, fluffff.
authors note: I feel like I haven’t written a one shot in awhile, so…hope you like. As always thank you to my lovely beta’s @take-everything-you-can & @xxhellfiregirlxx <3
wc: 3.4k
You are fuming, absolutely seething with rage.
You couldn't believe your boyfriend, scratch that ex boyfriend would do this to you. How could someone swear to be ‘so in love’ with you but turn around and do this? It just didn’t make sense, but you only have yourself to blame.
All of your friends warned you about Andy, said he was a pig and would just use you as another notch for his belt, but you wanted to believe you were different or that maybe you could’ve changed him. Instead you allowed him to take very x-rated polaroids of you, that he in turn showed to all of his basketball buddies, who told their cheerleader girlfriends, who then told you he’d spent all of gym bragging and showing them off in the locker room.
So…you’d devised a very impulsive and hell bent plan; while they were all outside running the annual mile, you decided you would sneak into the locker room, find Andy's locker, then you would break into it and steal the polaroids back. It was a fool proof plan… or so it seemed in your frenzy of rage.
But as you walk into the quiet, cold, sterile room filled with green lockers. You quickly realize you're not alone.
“Oh my god!”
“Oh fuck!”
Was said in unison as you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson locked eyes, but they didn't stay connected for long as yours roamed his body, all the way down to the biggest cock you had ever seen in your life. Not that you’ve seen so many, but you’ve had your fair share of hook ups and I mean c’mon you're not a prude, you do watch porn.
But, even so… his cock was still bigger than anything you’ve come in contact with, albeit on screen and off.
“I’m so sorr–”
“What are you do-”
You both say again, voices overlapping as Eddie catches the wide eyed stare you're giving his flaccid manhood.
He quickly covers himself with his hands, his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.
Eddie was rather dense when it came to his size, considering he was a virgin and he’s been using the locker room while it was empty since he started at Hawkins High, not wanting to give the jocks anymore fuel for their relentless fire. He didn’t have much to compare it to, nor did he want to participate in any dick measuring contests. The only porn he had hidden under his bed were his dirty fantasy magazines but all the dicks in there were monster cocks, literally.
“What are you doing in here?” Eddie huffed in annoyance as your eyes continued to burn a hole into his now covered groin.
“I um, I–” You couldn't even find the words to explain why you were in the boy’s locker room, not one that would make any sense to him, anyway.
“You what, huh? Spit it out.” Eddie didn’t mean to snap at you, but he was already in a foul mood. He had been present when Andy was showing off your goods to his ogling friends, who all agreed he was a ‘lucky guy’.
Eddie patiently waited for them all to retreat out and onto the track so he could finally shower and get dressed back into his all black attire. Eddie, oh lovesick Eddie had been nursing a mammoth sized crush on you since your freshman year. So, to say he couldn't help but roll his eyes and clench his fists at not only the thought of all these other dudes getting to see you, but also the fact that you even picked a shit stain like Andy Clayton to give an ounce of your time to, really pissed him off.
“I came to try and get something back from my ex.” You bashfully murmur as your eyes once again find the metalheads.
A remorseful look passes over Eddie's face at your revelation, as you both continue to stare at each other you quickly notice his wet hair has been dripping down onto his tattooed chest, the scene makes your breath hitch and you want so badly to clench your thighs from the heat that's been ignited in your center.
Eddie’s confidence begins to grow as he notices the flush of your cheeks and the way your breathing went ragged as your eyes wandered.
“Ya’ know, if i didn't know any better i'd say you’re checking me out?” He declares with a cocky smirk.
“What? I-I’m not-” You stutter before shutting your eyes tight, as if it’d shield you of your utter humiliation. You quickly exhale in an attempt to rid yourself of the mix of arousal and embarrassment that has simultaneously filled your body.
“Okay, I was… but I didn’t mean to, I'm sorry.” You whisper as your eyes meander the tiles under your black loafers and white slouch socks.
“You didn't mean to check out my dick?” Eddie says in bewilderment as his brows raise, disappearing behind his shaggy, wet bangs.
He’s surprised he has the confidence to stand so close to you with his dick literally in his hand, but watching you stutter and squirm has got to be the highlight of his whole high school career.
Well this and that time he, Gareth and Jeff left that flaming bag of shit on Mr. Higgins doorstep. Yeah, watching that old fuck struggle to put out a burning bag filled with dog shit was definitely up there.
“I mean, I did mean to, it’s just– nevermind, I'm sorry. I’ll leave.” Your words fly out of your mouth before you begin to turn and leave, back out the way you came without fulfilling the mission you were on just five minutes ago.
You didn’t even make it two steps before Eddie was gently grabbing your bicep, his hands no longer covering his cock that now grows hard between his scrawny thighs.
“It’s just what?…Color me curious sweetheart.” He says as his calloused fingers slowly run down your arm and back to his side.
Sweetheart, you liked hearing him call you that. Jesus, what is happening?
“Well um, your dicks like really big.” You say as your eyes fall back to his package, you lick your lips at the sight of it twitching at your words.
“Really?” The way he questions you is confusing because there is absolutely no way he doesn’t know he’s hung like a goddamn horse.
“You’re joking right? You’re gonna act like you don’t know your cock is massive?” You say with a tilt of your head.
His eyebrows shoot back up in amusement, the cocky smile on his face a complete rival to his rapidly beating heart.
You move closer into his space, looking up into his innocent looking doe eyes.
Eddie Munson is anything but innocent, right? I mean he sells drugs for fuck sake! You’ve even heard about him grabbing a cheerleader's tit during a drug deal, of course she was trying to get him to lower the price, but still…well now that you come to think of it, that's really the only sexual thing you’ve heard about him. There’s no way he could be a… yeah right.
“Can I ask you a question?” You whisper as you move in even closer, moving a now damp, stray strand of hair behind his reddening ear.
“S-sure.” He whimpers when your long nails lightly scratch down his jaw, which he quickly covers with a cough.
You bit at your lips trying to hold back a giggle at the noise that went straight between your legs.
Okay, fuck those pictures! What better way to get over a guy than to get under a new one…right? Especially one your ex hates…who has a huge cock…I mean this shits a no brainer… you’re gonna fuck Eddie Munson.
“Are you a virgin?” You question sweetly as you ‘innocently’ play with the hem of your plaid dress, the white turtleneck underneath making your already hot and bothered body, burn more with the intense electricity radiating between the both of you.
“I uh, how’d you know?” He sighs as his shoulders drop in exasperation, not at you but at himself for being so fucking obvious.
“Well, with that third leg I never would’ve guessed…but you have this innocence in your eyes that’s kinda telling.” You giggle as your eyes meet his still hard cock, and all you wanna do now is wrap your hand around it and watch him lose his mind.
Eddie throws his head back and laughs into the open air of the now humid locker room. He whispers third leg to himself, nodding his head as if he was hearing that term for the first time. He was.
“Do you wanna stay a virgin, Eddie?” You whisper as the tips of your fingers gently trail over the patch of hair on his lower stomach, just above the spot your hand is aching to touch, that he’s aching for you to touch.
Two things in this moment make the metalhead equally lose his mind, he might actually cum untouched if he’s being honest. Your hand is so close to his throbbing cock, just a few centimeters down and you’d be brushing against his pink, sensitive tip. And hearing you say his name. Wait, you know his name.
That alone is an aphrodisiac for him.
“No, I-I don’t.” He admits before swallowing hard, his damp Adam's apple bobbing at the motion.
“Can I kiss you?” He surprises himself as the question leaves his mouth.
“Please.” you whine with desperation, making Eddie groan as his lips find yours in a frenzy.
Your fingers slowly trail down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that is Eddie’s cock.
Another whimper falls from between his pretty lips, but this time it's unashamed and without a cough to cover it up. No, he wants you to hear what you’re doing to him.
“That feel good, baby?” You murmur into his mouth between the smacks that echo off the barren walls.
“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushes out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.
He wraps his arms around you, in an air of confidence and pulls you in closer, chests now flush as your hand continues to softly tug at his cock.
“Do you wanna fuck me, Eddie?” You whisper as you lean your forehead against his, wet bangs be damned.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for a very long time, princess.” He admits without much thought.
You break away from him, eyes boring into his as you take in his confession. You step back and Eddie’s heart shatters as he curses himself for opening his big, stupid mouth and scaring you off. But before he could get down on his knees and grovel for you to just ignore him and stay, keep paying attention to him. You take his hand and lead him to the wooden bench towards the back of the locker room.
He follows you like a lost puppy before you’re gently pushing at his chest, a silent instruction for him to sit down. He quickly takes the hint, clumsily plopping down onto the stiff wooden bench.
He looks to you for direction, those innocent eyes blinking up at you and goddammit if it doesn't chip away at the walls your now ex boyfriend has helped you build. But, that's a thought for another day.
You fall to your knees, cold tiles digging into your skin as you wrap your hand back around his cock in a wildness that you’d never felt for any of your previous partners.
“Holy shit.” Eddie spits out in disbelief. This has to be a wet dream, there's absolutely now way this is happening to him…he’s never this lucky, and in typical eddie cynicism, he looks around to make sure no one is filming or waiting to pop out and laugh at him or better yet, to tell him this was all some elaborate prank, get the freak all riled up just to leave him high and dry.
The thought is quickly extinguished when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, gently sucking before you're removing your soft, pillowy muscles that are now coated in his precum, you alluringly flick your tongue across them gathering it all, just to get a good taste of him. His soul just about leaves his body and you've barely even started.
You take him back into your mouth, but this time without mercy as you relax your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you try not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.
“Oh, oh fuck, please. I-I…” He stammers as his hands flex and clench beside him, too afraid to run his fingers through your hair like he so badly wants to.
You fuck his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over before you’re popping off of him, placing a sweet kiss to his tip then standing back up onto your feet, your knees burning from the pressure that was placed on them, red indents now take their place leaving very little mystery as to what you’ve just done.
“I need your cock so bad Eddie.” You moan into his mouth before kissing him, it’s deep and needy and you never want to kiss anyone else like this for as long as you live.
“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Eddie whimpers, before he begins attacking your neck, sucking hard before soothing the skin with his tongue. You couldn’t care less if he leaves marks, in fact you want him to mark you up, make you his.
You thread your hand into his still damp hair, pushing him closer as he begins to suck at a particularly sensitive spot, just below your ear.
Eddie places one last tender kiss there, before he removes his face from your neck. He confidently lifts the hem of your dress up and over the tops of your thighs, exposing your slick soaked, red panties. The metalhead swipes a finger over the thin, lace fabric that clings to your hips.
“Can I take these off?” He asks as his eyes continue to bore into the growing wet patch in the center of your covered slit.
“Mhm.” A high pitch whine escapes from the depths of your throat at how harshly he tore them off from between your legs. Needy boy.
“Fuckin’ aye.” Eddie murmurs to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt right in front of him, so pretty and wet just for him. He wanted to run his fingers through the damp, trimmed coils on your mound but quickly decided against it, he didn’t want you thinking that was weird.
“H-have you ever seen a pussy before?” You chirp up, bashful as you grab his hand and move it towards your soaked slit.
He clears his throat before answering- “just in magazines.” He admits as his cheeks tinge a pretty shade of pink.
He’s embarrassed by his revelation, but you can’t help but think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.
You work his fingers through your slit, rubbing at your own clit with his hand and it all just fuels that fire growing deep in your belly.
“Oh!” You moan as your eyes gently roll back, you swipe his finger through your wetness again, “you feel that? Feel how wet you make me Ed’s?” You whisper as your eyes now hold his.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful! I-I need to fuck you or im gonna cum. You can’t just talk to me like that, princess.” He mutters as he loses all resolve, not that he had much to begin with.
“Yes, sir.” You whisper into his ear before you’re placing a gentle kiss there. You turn around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back becomes flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrow it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.
He’s so big it’s like he's ripping you in half, but you welcome the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all makes your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.
“Mmf.” Eddie moans into the side of your face, as you’re finally seated flush in his lap, cock buried deep inside your aching pussy, you clench around the intrusion, making Eddie gasp and whine.
You smile back at him before you’re doing it again.
“Fuck, do you want this to be over before it starts? Huh?” He says threw his teeth, as he grabs your chin to reprimand you. And you want nothing more than to play further into that dynamic.
Andy was a shit lay compared to this, Eddie Munson a virgin is fucking you better than your ex, and if that doesn’t speak volumes as to how the relationship was. The thought makes you feel stupid.
Before you can fester anymore on your dumb mistake, Eddie begins to fuck up into you, all his patience seeping through the air vents that you now realize are on and blowing, creating a chill throughout the room and goosebumps to trickle over your body.
His big hands grab at your waist, roughly bouncing you up and down on his cock as he follows the same rhythm. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths as you bring your hand to the nape of his neck and holding on, as you get absolutely railed in the boys locker room.
Not only is the location turning you on but the thought of being caught by anyone, especially Andy, has got your cunt dripping and making a mess of the metalheads balls.
“Shit, you’re so wet and warm and so fucking tight, baby.” Eddie huffs as his words begin to spill out with no filter, theres no fucking way he can think about what he’s saying before he says it with you clenching around him like that.
“I remember the first time I fucked my fist thinking about you; you wore that little jean skirt with those fucking red cowboy boots a-and the tightest little white shirt, I could see your nipples perfectly. Didn't even bother to wear a bra, just wanted everyone to see, didnt you? Mmm, bad girl.” He starts his confession out whiney and whimpering until he gets to the bad girl with a growl and an extra hard snap of his hips that make your eyes cross in complete carnal delight.
“That’s so fu-ucking hot that you think about me when you jack off, fuck.” You stutter as your body continues to be used as Eddie’s personal little fuck toy.
“Yeah? But I don’t have to do that anymore do I? You’re gonna let me fuck this tight little cunt whenever I want, aren’t you baby?” The confident rasp in his voice is a complete 360 to the awkward, innocent boy he was just seconds ago. But, the way your pussy tightens around him tells him you fucking love it, so he files that information away for next time.
“Yes, yes whenever you want Eddie!” You wail as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails dig into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours. The sounds were filthy, but they egged you both on as your highs so quickly approached.
“Ed- I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sob, fully convinced someone has had to have heard you both by now. But you don’t care, how could you when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.
“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He doesnt even get to finish, before you’re begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliges, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shoots deep inside you.
“Goddammit.” He whispers into your neck after you've both come down from your panting highs. The breath he exhales tickles you, making you giggle. His arms wrap around your front, holding you tightly before burrowing his head deeper into the skin between your jaw and clavicle, he blows a raspberry and you can't help the shriek that leaves your mouth as he continues to tease you.
“So, you want help getting those pictures back?”
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18+
Thinking about riding Eddie after one of his shows.
He's drenched in sweat, curls plastered to his cheeks and jaw, strong shoulders braced against the scratchy back of the bench seat in his dimly lit van. His body thrums with leftover adrenaline beneath you - the same that still buzzes in your veins too, ignited as you watched him perform from below the stage platform. You gazed up at Eddie's face and voice and body, seeing him raw and nearly feral in his element, and a hot-blooded thing purred low in your belly, ready for the promise of after. Yet despite the needy glint in his eyes and the steady pulse between your thighs that grew throughout his set, you and Eddie aren't fucking furiously now. Instead, the way you move your hips against his is deep and slow and unhurried, like you have all night to wring each ounce of pleasure out of him, and he out of you. You savor the taste of musk and sweat as you lick up the thick vein in his neck. In reply, his fingers tighten on the fat of your ass, dimpling the flesh as he drags you forward and up only to drop you back down against his hairy thighs, over and over.
You let him help you for awhile, preoccupied by lavishing his neck and jaw with your mouth before leaning back and taking over. You roll your hips at a languid pace, dragging your puffy lips hard against his pubic bone and squeezing his length tight inside you until his head falls forward onto your chest. You hold the back of his wild curls, tucking in your fingers and urging him close as his breath huffs against your sternum. You're just as sticky as he is now, wet with sweat dewed between your breasts and with slick now dripping down his heavy balls, squelching each time you pull and push.
Eddie's tongue laves a thick, hot path between the valley of your breasts, and your breath deepens when he seeks for more after that first taste - licking, nipping, mouthing at the plush of your breasts, rooting restlessly for more of your salt against his teeth.
Nights like this, Eddie doesn't run his mouth the way he usually does. There are no murmurs of endearments or filthy praise, and part of you mourns the lack even as you sigh when he finally takes the tight bud of your nipple into his mouth, sucking firmly and looking up at you from beneath the tangle of his damp bangs. His gaze remains intent on your face as he works your nipple deeper in, and your breath hitches when he pulls it between his teeth.
That's where bliss is: your head hanging back, lolling uselessly on your neck as every roll of your hips coaxes out a delicious sting to mix with the pleasure of his fat tip rubbing against that sensitive spot inside. Because Eddie keeps your nipple trapped there between his teeth as you continue to ride him. He rumbles his satisfaction when you moan and quicken your pace so the rhythmic tug becomes a little meaner.
And it's hardly a sacrifice that he can't speak when he can watch you fall apart on top of him. You crush his head to your chest, arms wrapped tight around his ears, writhing and whimpering as you cum on his cock. After, once you loosen your grip, he soothes your abused nipple with soft wet licks, pressing a little kiss right to the peak before grinning up at you with that crooked, manic smile of his.
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joel miller and the five love languages
*:·゚✧ back to masterlist
pairing*:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller
wc*:·゚ 5.3k
warnings*:·゚ 18+ minors please do not interact! features pre-outbreak!joel, post-outbreak!joel (both the qz and jackson eras), one mention of child's death, some talk of insecurities, mentions of kissing/making out, oral (both f and m receiving), dirty talk, praise, p in v penetration (not really specified whether it is protected or not), some light period play, nothing too detailed, just a hodgepodge of things really :)
an*:·゚ ahh this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest amount of time and i finally decided to scrap it and rewrite it. i did this same kind of post with eddie munson awhile back, and it's safe to say this genre of writing is one of my favorites. this is essentially a little character analysis on joel's character and how he would handle the different love langauges with a hint of nsfw elements for each! i really loved writing this, and i hope i did his character justice. any and all feedback, be it comments or reblogs, is welcomed! this is also wildly unedited, so please forgive me lol
i. physical touch
for joel, physical touch is a way for him to stay grounded, almost. to kind of remind himself that you're there, you're real, you're okay. the action brings him a sense of peace, even if it's simply his pinky finger brushing against the tip of your shoulder or his knee gently bumping into yours when you sit together. he loves feeling your skin under his rough, calloused fingers because you're so fucking soft in comparison. that difference between you isn't the only one, but it reminds him that while you're everything he isn't - patient, friendly, pure, and utter sunshine - you're still his. his to touch, his to hold, his to love.
even though he'd never admit it, to anyone or himself, joel is quite the cuddler. the first time you spent the night in his bed, this information was a pleasant surprise. you had woken up halfway through the night needing to pee and found yourself tangled up in joel's limbs; one arm was underneath your pillow, the other securely wrapped around your middle. his legs were woven within yours, with his muscled thigh pressed between them at a spot that had your cheeks heating up. you had to untangle yourself from him to get up, and he had let out the smallest of grunts in disappointment. as soon as you were back in his bed, though, he immediately pulled you back in his orbit, his face pressed against your neck as both of y'alls breathing steadied out again.
when it comes to public displays of affection, though, this is where it differs. pre-outbreak!joel would be more willing to commit these acts; you'd be used to having his hand in the back pocket of your jeans while strolling the farmers markets or being kissed for longer than a few seconds while waiting in line to check out at the grocery store. he wouldn't be obnoxious with it, but he'd definitely want to show off and claim you as his out in public.
post-outbreak!joel is a different story. now, he doesn't really see the appeal of those public displays. not that he's against them, per say, but it's more of him not wanting to really let his guard down enough to give in to the temptation of touching you in public. even without these public acts, everyone knew you were joel's girl, and he is quite alright with just that. so it's not that doesn't engage in these acts, they're just slightly more subtle, slightly more restricted.
sometimes, he lets himself brush back your hair when it blows in your face while you're walking down the street, lets himself gently tuck it behind your ear while you grin up at him. sometimes, he lets himself press the swiftest of kisses against your forehead, taking a second to breathe in your scent before pulling away. sometimes, he lets his arm rest across your shoulders with your body firmly pressed against his, reveling in the way you fit against him so rightly.
these little moments barely fulfill that innate urge he has to touch you, to give himself that sense of peace you bring him, but it only fuels that need exponentially when you guys are eventually confined in the safety of your home.
this love language translates quite nicely into the bedroom, too, because joel simply cannot get enough of you when the two of you get intimate.
every time your kissing gets a little needy, it's like he physically cannot control his hands; they start against the sides of your face, cupping you gently as he hungrily moves his lips against yours. his thumbs will brush against your cheeks while his other fingers dig into your hair. then they'll move to your shoulders, usually so that he can guide you into a different position. then they'll drift down your sides, digging into your waist for a moment before slipping underneath your shirt - that is, if it's not off already. he'll let his hands caress the smooth skin of your stomach, your back, before bringing them to the hard peaks of your breasts. he never spends too much time in one spot, though. his hands have to be everywhere.
his favorite positions are the ones that allow his body to be completely pressed up against yours; the classic missionary, which allows him to settle his weight just nicely on top of yours, allows him to grind his hips into yours and pushes his cock even deeper inside you. allows him to feel your tits bouncing against his chest as he kisses you hard while he fucks you even harder. your wrists would be enclosed together above your head by his hand, and the other would be stroking the side of your face, the side of your hip, anywhere he could reach.
he loves when he can fuck you on the couch, having your body propped up in his lap while you rock against him. he finds it so cute that you'll tuck your feet underneath his thighs to use as leverage to bounce yourself along his cock. you usually crave that physical connection with him just as much as he does, fulfilling that need by wrapping your arms around his shoulders, tugging on his hair, pressing his mouth against your chest. this always causes you both to be more sweaty than comfortable, which always leads to round two in the shower, so that's always a bonus.
his third favorite position? good 'ole sixty-nining. he fucking loves having your weight on top of him, your pussy pressed and rocking against his face as he eats you out so greedily. his hands, once again, can roam over most of your body; they can spank your ass when he feels the need to, massage your calves ever so gently after you've came all over his face, press against your back to push your stomach and tits even closer to his abdomen, card through your hair to guide your movements as you deepthroat his cock.
and every time after, when you're both exhausted and spent, joel will pull you into his arms, lay a kiss against your lips and forehead, and hold you close until your heartbeats have evened out.
ii. words of affirmation
truthfully, words of affirmation is not really joel's strongest suit (at least, in none sexually settings, but we'll get to that in a second). as a single dad, he really has tried his best to show his daughter (daughters) that he loves and appreciates them with words, but truthfully? he really struggles with articulating how he's feeling, even when it is positive. so, getting those affirmations out are harder than anything else, most of the time.
pre-outbreak!joel has a bit of an easier time with this, as he isn't as guarded as he'll become yet. he has no problem cheering for sarah during her soccer games, or admitting to tommy he did a good job at one of their worksites. he has no problems with it when it comes to you, either, as he often reminds you of how beautiful you are every time he sees you, be it first thing when you wake up together or after you've pampered yourself a bit for a date night. the man will constantly tell you how stunning you are, how lucky he is to have you, all of that jazz. you'll eat it up every time too, because the one thing that stayed with joel before and after the outbreak was the fact that he'll never say something he doesn't mean. so, when he's consistently hyping you up, you know it's real.
post-outbreak!joel is much more secluded in this love language, though. he'll tell you sometimes that you look good, only mostly when you're only wearing one of his t-shirts or his flannels. it's not that he doesn't think you're beautiful - he genuinely believes you're the most gorgeous, heartbreakingly beautiful thing he's ever seen - it's just that, with the way the world is now, he finds that to be so trivial to compliment.
instead, he'd rather congratulate you on being able to grow the new seeds you received from bill and frank, even when you've never really had a green thumb. he'd rather comment on how smart you are, when you figure out how to make your own bubble bath solution because you missed having them when you soaked in the tub. he'd rather tell everyone of your achievements, simply because he was so fucking proud of you and in awe of the way you handle everything with grace.
despite this love language not necessarily coming naturally to joel, he has absolutely no issues with giving you affirmations in the bedroom. absolutely none. in fact, he likes giving you praise just as much as you like to receive it. he so deeply wants you to know how good of a girl you are, how good your body feels against his, how good your pussy takes his cock. the man is simply obsessed with complimenting you in this area that it's insane.
when you two first got together, there honestly wasn't that much talking involved. besides a few subdued grunts and moans, joel was otherwise pretty quiet throughout the experience, which in turn made you feel like maybe you were doing something wrong or that the chemistry you thought you felt just wasn't really there to begin with. once you communicated those feelings to him, though, and you both became more comfortable and trusting of each other, in intimate settings and out, that's when things started to change.
joel could now recognize that you needed those thoughts he had in his head to be said out loud, needed to know that he was enjoying himself to the point of no return. and so, he did.
when you started kissing, and your breaths were turning into pants and moans, he'd whisper against your mouth as his hands roamed your body; "can't get enough of those lips, baby. they feel so soft and right against mine, yeah?" "god, you feel so good underneath my hands. you like bein' touched by my rough hands, don't you baby?"
when you were both undressed, writhing against each other as you frantically tried to get closer to one another: "fuck, but you look so pretty underneath me, honey. this is where you belong." "how did i get so lucky, hm? to have someone like you beggin' me to touch you, to kiss you? your little whimpers sound so good, baby. so fuckin' good." "that's it, sugar. move those hips against mine, just like that. i want that pretty little pussy comin' against my thigh real soon, okay? don't disappoint me, darlin'."
and especially when he finally sunk his cock inside of you, mixed in between his moans and grunts as he fucked you how you liked it: "jesus fuckin' christ. it's like this pussy was made just for me, don't you agree, honey?" "look at how well this little cunt is takin' my cock, baby. don't i fill you up so nicely? we look so good together." "you're such a good fuckin' girl, rubbin' that clit while i make you take this dick. you wanna come, huh? well go ahead. soak my cock, baby."
and after, joel praises you while he takes a wet rag to your skin, cleaning up the mess you both made. he praises you while he helps get you in the shower or the tub, whatever you prefer that night, and praises you while he helps dry you off. he praises you while tugging one of his shirts over your head, while helping you slip on a fresh pair of panties, while tucking you in under the blankets and while pulling you into his side.
iii. quality time
quality time is probably one of joel's main love languages, as he's the kind of person who can comfortably sit in silence with someone he likes and feel so content. joel is honestly a really solitary individual, he likes his own space, doing his own thing. he doesn't mind allowing people he trusts into his orbit, but he's not someone who needs to be constantly doing something with someone else to enjoy time together.
some of his favorite moments with sarah are when they'd sit on the couch together, a game show playing in the background while she flipped through a magazine, and he jotted down information for his work sites. sometimes they wouldn't talk for over an hour, but the ease he felt while simply sitting there with her was unbeatable.
with pre-outbreak!joel, there were a lot of moments like that with you, too. movie nights were often in his house when he was able to get home from work at a decent time. it could've been a movie he'd already seen a thousand times, and yet he wouldn't mind it at all because that meant he got at least a few hours of time with you pressed against his side, or your head in his lap. he also liked when you two were able to cook together; you'd usually turn the radio on some modern station that he never cared for but got used to listening to because sarah also listened to it, and he'd be content to listen to you hum along with the songs while he diced whatever food you slid his way.
after the outbreak though, there wasn't really a lack of quality time between the two of you, unless he was off on some hunting or scavenging trip. when your relationship became official, joel all but moved into your house. you'd wake up together, brush your teeth in the small bathroom together, fix breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, wind down together, fall asleep together. the amount of time y'all spent together would probably seem like a lot compared to others, but joel didn't mind it one bit. he loved being involved in your life, loved just being near your presence that rivaled the sun for him.
his absolute favorite moments were when you two would wind down before laying down. you had the habit of drinking tea before bed, which is something he picked up as well, and so you'd brew the tea, spruce it up to each of your likings (joel drank his straight up, but you loved added in some honey or vanilla when able to). you'd settle into the couch in the living room, curling up on one side while joel sat on the opposite. after a long day of helping around the town, joel mostly would relax with his head tilted back, eyes closed, while you preferred to read or attempt to knit.
throughout the night, your legs would find themselves crossing the distance of the couch, with your feet resting in his lap. his hands would be massaging the soles of your feet or tracing up and down your calves ever so softly. no words would be shared between the two of you, unless there was a passage in the book you were reading that you wanted to share with him, and some people might have deemed that uncomfortable, but for joel? god, was it fulfilling.
it gave him the time to reset his mind, slow down his body. he didn't have to think about anything besides how soft your skin felt or how cute it was that you'd curse at yourself when the stitch you were attempting didn't go right. he could simply bask in your presence, build himself back up again. and that is something that meant the world to him.
his other favorite part about nights like that were, despite the usual routineness of it, most of the time it led to other things which equally satisfied his need for that quality time. and really, the options for that were unlimited.
sometimes, after feeling the smooth expanse of skin on your legs, joel would decide that he needed to feel more. his hands would turn greedy; rather than simply grazing his fingertips along your skin, he'd put more pressure behind the movements, making his intentions well known. he'd shift to reach more than just your calves, pushing his hands up to your knees, your thighs, the peak between your legs. by that point, whatever activity you had been filling your time with would have found itself settled on the nearby coffee table, your attention solely on the man next to you.
his urge to be closer to you would manifest in different ways after this point. some nights, he wanted the focus to be on you only. he'd sink to his knees in front of the couch, guiding your legs gently to rest over his shoulders while he found ecstasy between your legs. he'd take his time with you, ignoring how much his joints hurt pressed against the wooden floors simply just to hear you moan his name. he loved feeling your hands in his hair as he lapped up the wetness from your pussy.
other nights, he wanted it to be a mutual endeavor. he'd yank on your ankle, dragging you halfway down the couch before gripping your hips and pulling you on top of him. kisses would be shared, clothes would be shed, and orgasms would be had while you ride his cock until you were begging him for a rest. his hands would leave half-moon bruises along your hipline as guided your body along his, his mouth leaving little red love bites across your neck and chest as he soothed you after an orgasm.
and some nights, joel wanted the focus to be solely on him. he'd lure you in with a kiss, drawing you up on your knees to get closer while his hand worked on his belt. before you even knew it, his cock was out and in your mouth. one of his hands would be holding up your hair, the other would be palming your pussy through your clothes as he thrusted his hips up in time with your movements.
it was the care he gave you afterwards that remained his favorite part, though. joel loved taking baths or showers with you, loved getting you all comfortable in the bed before he let himself do the same. loved holding you afterwards, stroking his fingers along your skin soothingly. talk was limited here, oftentimes as you both were too spent to communicate anything at that point. but by the way he held you, by the way you let him hold you, rough hands and all, that was enough to solidify the love between you without words.
iv. receiving gifts
joel miller has never been the richest man. he's worked for everything he has, for everything he's given other people. it's that quality that makes his gifts hold so much more meaning; he wasn't trying to buy your love, by any means. instead, when he did offer you a gift, it was heartfelt and had value behind it.
pre-outbreak!joel would've loved to spoil you as often as he could, but as a single dad and contractor, he wasn't really rolling in dough. in a way, he always felt guilty that he wasn't able to buy you flowers every week, or that sweater you saw in the store while shopping with sarah. and you had told him over and over again that you weren't with him for the money ("clearly," he'd scoff at himself every time you mentioned it) and that the fact that he wanted to do those things was simply enough for you.
occasionally, though, he was able to set aside a little money for gifts for you. sometimes, a bouquet of flowers would show up at work, the card inside reading nothing more than "thinkin' of you" every time. sometimes, after pointing out a dress you found online that joel couldn't help but fall in love with too, you'd come home to a package on the porch, the dress inside. on your one-year anniversary, joel surprised you with a simple gold chained necklace that had a tiny letter 'j' pendent.
later that night, while sarah was still at tommy's, you had just barely made it through the threshold of your house before joel threw himself at you. his kisses were needy and rough, his teeth clashing into yours at the beginning with the intensity behind it. he managed to kick your door closed, never moving his mouth from yours as he started stripping you out of the red dress you had worn. you never even made it to the bedroom for the first two rounds.
instead, joel hoisted you up against him, your back pressed into the closet near your front door and your legs wrapped around his waist. his nimble fingers pulled your panties to the side, caressing your wet folds and lightly strumming his thumb across your clit before pressing his hips flush against yours, filling you completely. and later, when you stumbled to the couch and joel had you bent over the side, his hips bucking against yours and his fingers digging into your hair, all you were wearing was the necklace.
you never took it off after that night.
post-outbreak!joel is a bit of a different story. there wasn't really much around anymore that he could buy for you, per say, but he did a pretty good job at finding things to give you despite that fact. joel is a provider, so while his gifts may not have been flowers and fancy jewelry now, they were necessities and things you needed, sometimes things you never even mentioned that he picked up on.
when you first started talking to joel, you had mentioned offhandedly that you missed blueberries, as that fruit had been a staple in your morning breakfast. a few weeks later, after returning to the qz from a visit to bill and franks, he produced a packet of blueberry seeds from his jacket pocket, setting it besides you on the table while kissing your forehead.
another time, while strolling down the market on the main street, you had stumbled upon a barrette that you absolutely adored. it was dirty, the gold metal needing to be wiped clean from the mud stuck to it, and it was missing one of the pearls in the middle, but it stuck with you for some reason. you never said anything about it, considering you had nothing worthy to trade or sell, but joel saw you turn it over in your hands, saw your gaze go back to the stall more than once. while you were conversing with a friend further down the street, joel had doubled back to the stall with the barrette and provided the worker with a few pills on the down low in exchange for the clip.
he even cleaned it up himself before presenting it to you. the action had sent you over the moon, feeling so giddy and so normal as you held the hair clip in your hands. you had asked joel to help you put it in your hair, which shocked him. but he obliged. he carefully tucked some of your hair up behind your ear, gently placing the clip in the right spot and pressing down just enough to secure it.
it was such a simple moment, but it took his breath out of his chest for a second, seeing you grinning up at him with the clip he had provided for you in your hair. that was the night that your relationship took a step further; joel couldn't really explain why he felt the primal urge to claim you just then, but he just knew he needed to. you had asked him how the clip looked, and instead of responding, joel had crushed his mouth against yours, sweeping you up off your feet and leading you to the bedroom.
his kisses were frantic, as were his hands; he didn't know what part of you to touch first. you were really taken back by this sudden reaction, but it had been a long time coming, so after the initial gasp you had let out, you were just as eager and frantic as joel was. your fingers were trying to nimbly open the buttons on his shirt, but somehow you managed to rip it open and send a few flying across the room.
it was the noise of the little beads scattering on the wooden floor that made joel pull back a little, glancing down at his now-ruined shirt before looking at you, gazing up at him with wide eyes. his brown eyes stayed on yours, and eventually, a small laugh escaped your lips as you apologized for his shirt. he couldn't help but chuckle himself, chastising himself a little for rushing things so much when all he wanted to do was savor this moment, savor you. he glanced at the clip again, slightly covered by some strands of your hair that had fallen out and ducked down to capture your lips with his again.
v. acts of service
this is the love language that joel understands the most and acts out the most. as mentioned before, this man is a provider, a caretaker to those he loves. he will do just about anything to keep those people safe, keep them comfortable, keep them alive. there is quite literally nothing joel wouldn't do for you.
pre-outbreak!joel is a handyman, for sure. he's who you'd call if your car breaks down or a tire blows out. he's who you'd call if your sink starts leaking or one of the lights in your bathroom goes out. even just a simple text will have him heading to the hardware store, gathering the tools he needs if he doesn't already own it himself, before immediately heading to fix whatever you need.
he loves stepping into that role of taking care of you in that sense, mostly because it just really makes him feel needed, important to keep around. sometimes he wonders what you see in him, a single dad trying to make ends meet. it's the ways you allow him to help you out, though, that are what keep him filling fulfilled and loved. he knows you can be as independent as you want, but the fact that you trust him enough to immediately turn to him when something is wrong? that's the best feeling in the world to joel.
this joel is constantly doing these little acts of service, too, to the point where it just comes naturally for him. every time you stay the night, he's up a little earlier to make breakfast for the two of you, even if he burns the food more than not. he always keeps an eye on your gas levels, sometimes taking your car out to fill it up himself. same with the oil changes; he has the dates and mileages written out on a post-it so that he's in the loop, just like you. when he's at the grocery store with sarah and he sees the body wash you use that's almost out, he'll go ahead and grab a new bottle without you even asking.
this continues even after the outbreak, too. if anything, that need to feel important, to feel like a provider for someone strengthens the longer the world turns to shit. post-outbreak!joel is all about those acts of service, because he might have failed sarah when this all began, but he sure as hell is never going to fail you or ellie.
at the qz, he's all about making trades for the betterment of your life together. whatever he thinks would benefit you the most, he's doing it - even if that means he's gone for weeks on end to secure the goods necessary. you found yourself spending time in the lower city to pass your days, helping out any shopkeepers with their still-standing stores or watching over the kids as their parents do their duties. joel will walk you there every morning before he's off on his own duties, and every evening he waits for you to be done so that he can walk back home with you.
in jackson, he'll fulfill this language in a multitude of ways. he's always the one to do the dishes, even if he's also the one who cooked that night. you always fuss about that because joel has arguably worked harder and longer than you did on most days, but every time you bring it up, he simply shoos you away with the dishrag nearby before continuing to scrub at the dishes. he's always the one to make sure you're stocked up on firewood during the colder months, always making sure that your pipes won't freeze or that the fireplace is properly managed. joel will make sure you're stocked on the tea you like to drink at bedtime, make sure you have enough books to keep you occupied, make sure he's left enough of his shirts at your place to keep you satisfied.
this easily translates into the bedroom, too, because while this man likes control, he is nothing if not a giver. his back could be aching, his knees could be weak, and he'd still lay on his back against the hardwood floors so that you could use the couch to prop yourself up on while he eats you out from below. if he senses that you've had a rough day, he'll immediately guide you to the bedroom so that he can figure out how to help you there. you could not even touch him once and he'd still be a happy man, just as long as you've come.
if you had a headache? no problem. joel's always claimed that a good orgasm can help keep those at bay, so he won't stop until you've given him at least three. the first is always by his fingers, brushing through the slick of your skin before pressing them inside your sopping pussy. his thumb will be caressing your throbbing clit ever so gently, not applying as much pressure as you really need but just enough to still feel that friction.
the second will always be by his mouth, as he can't keep his tongue away from the glistening skin between your legs after coming on his fingers. this one is always the shortest, too, because joel's tongue flattening against your clit has you on the verge of another orgasm in seconds. and, finally, the third one is always by his cock. he'll push into you slowly but deeply, keeping his hips pressed against yours as you adjust to his length. and then he'll tease the shit out of you; never thrusting in a dedicated manner, pushing you to the edge of your last orgasm before pulling back to prolong it.
he's even willing to help out when you're riddled with period cramps, because joel miller is not the kind of man who is afraid of getting a little dirty in the bedroom. if anything, he loves being able to finger you into oblivion to ease the cramps because the tylenol just doesn't work as well when it's been expired for years. he'll keep his fingers inside of you until you're begging him to stop, until tears have been shed from overstimulation and not pain. depending on where you're at on your cycle, he'll even insist on fucking you, too. claims that he can give you a better orgasm with his cock, that being full of him would ease the pain a little better because you would be focusing on the sting of the stretch rather than the cramps happening on the inside.
his logic might be a little flawed, but like i said - joel miller will do pretty much anything to keep you happy, even if he has to get a little dirty every now and then.
dividers by @saradika-graphics!
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Older! Sugar daddy Eddie???
Warning: includes daddy kink and dom older Eddie. When I wrote this I thought of Older!Eddie with younger reader but it isn't specified.
Eddie is older now and the band is starting to really get noticed. Once that happens, he will buy you anything you want. You don’t even have to ask for it. If he so much as hears you mention wanting something then he will make sure you have it.
It gets to the point where he just gives you his card. It’s early morning and you’re standing in the kitchen as he scrambles to get ready to go to the studio. He’s about to run out the door, but he stops to grab his wallet, pulling out his card.
“Why don’t you go and buy something nice to wear for me, yeah?” He placed the card on the countertop next to your morning cup of coffee before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He’s out the door before you can even try to protest.
You don’t go too overboard with his card. You buy a dress, heels, and a black lace lingerie set, that you knew he would die seeing you in. He is home much earlier than you expected that night. “You’re home early,” you say, hopping off the couch to greet him with a kiss.
“Made sure to end practice early. Wanted to see you sooner.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhmmm been dying to get home to you." He says as his hands glide along your curves. "Why don’t you show me what you bought?”
Eddie sits in front of you on the foot of the bed as you model your new dress and new heels. “It’s been awhile since I’ve bought a dress. Do you like this one? I couldn’t decide between this one and the red one I found.”
“You used daddy’s card, right?” Heat rushes to your cheeks as the nickname falls from his lips without a care.
“I-I..Yes. I did.”
“Then you should’ve bought them both, baby. I wouldn’t have minded. It’s my job to spoil you.”
“I’ll get it next time, then. Do you like this one, though?” You ask giving him a little spin.
“Of course, baby. You look gorgeous. Always so pretty for me. Did you get anything else?”
"I did get one more thing" You say teasingly as you slowly slip the dress off to reveal the lingerie set underneath. “I got this just for you, daddy.”
He groans at your words. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you princess? Lay down on the bed for me, let me reward my good girl.”
Another idea I think Eddie would be obsessed with after being able to spoil you is paying for you to get your nails done.
Eddie loves your nails so fucking much. The way they feel in his hair, or scratching down his back, the way they look against his, the way they look wrapped around his cock....
When it’s time to get a new set you make sure to go to Eddie for his opinion.
“What color should I get for my nails next, Ed?” You watch him think for a second.
“How about blood red? That’ll look really pretty.”
That’s exactly the shade you pick at the nail salon. Before you head home, though, you make a quick stop at Ulta to pick out a matching lipstick shade. You apply the lipstick in the car right before walking into the house so Eddie will see it right as you walk through the door.
“I got my nails done, made sure to do the color you suggested,” you hold out your hands in front of you to show off your nails. It took him a second, but he finally took his eyes off of your lips and looked at your hands, and when he notices his eyes widen slightly. “I liked the color so much I went out and got a matching lipstick. Don’t worry, I used your card for it, too daddy.”
Eddie takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to give your hand a kiss. “Good girl.”
It’s not long before you find yourself kneeling down in front of Eddie on the couch, feeling the rug beneath your knees. His gaze is focused on your hand as you pump his cock. Eddie's head falls back in a groan as you kiss the tip, leaving behind a smudge of lipstick.
Eddie's head doesn’t stay tipped back for long, he lifts his head just in time you watch you sink your mouth down on his cock. “Shit baby,” he groans as he watches in awe, his mouth agape as your maroon-red lips move along his cock. You take him all the way down to the base, gagging slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat.
His hand is in the back of your hair, pulling you off his cock. “You alright sweetheart?”
A string of spit is still on your lips as you blink up at him. The lipstick you have on is smeared all over your mouth. The rest of your lipstick had transferred onto the base of his cock. You nod pathetically "want you to come in my mouth, want you in my throat daddy please.”
Eddie's hand in your hair shoving you right back down onto his cock. Both of his hands collect your hair into a ponytail as he begins to fuck your throat. The size of his cock has you gagging around him. The squeeze of your throat around his length makes sinful moans leave his mouth.
“Such a good girl for your daddy--fuck doll. Taking daddy’s cock so well down your throat. Gonna make me cum. Fuck you want that don't you doll? Want me to cum down your throat?”
You let out a moan in response and Eddie is done for, spilling down your throat with broken moans. He pulls you up off of your knees and pulls you into a kiss.
Let’s just say…he's always eager to spoil his baby...in anyway he can
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thinking about ace/demi Eddie being terrified to be with Steve. Like he sees the way Steve looks at him. Knows how he feels about Steve. Can't believe Steve might feel the same. So he tries to keep things friendly, backs off on the flirting.
But one day Steve actually asks him out. Like on a fucking actual real date. And Eddie wants to say yes. His whole being shaking with want. But he can't speak. Just shakes his head. And Steve backtracks, is all,
"oh. Yeah. No. That's- that's okay. Sorry if i- did i read this wrong? I thought-" and he looks so confused, sad eyes on Eddie, his hands fidgeting together in front of him. And Eddie can't fucking take it. He's like,
"You didn't read it wrong. I just... i can't... give you what you want. I don't like sex. Or like... i dont want it? Or might want it later, but not right now? I don't know. It's confusing. And hard to explain. I just-" he cuts off, his breath shaking in his chest and Steve's just looking at him, his face open and he's just listening, nods a little, encouraging Eddie to keep going. Eddie sighs, drops his head into his hands and mumbles.
"I just want you to be happy Steve. And i know you like sex. I'm sure its great. For you. But i don't... i don't care about it. I don't need it or really want it? I just... i like you so much Steve. And I'd genuinely love nothing more than to go out with you. And- and be with you. But just... not like that. At least not... not for awhile. Maybe not...ever." and Eddie's crying softly now, wipes at his face and looks up at Steve and see him looking back with the softest fucking look. He looks so fucking fond, and now Eddie's confused. His brow furrowed. And Steve scoots closer, reaches for Eddie's face and just cradles it and says,
"I just wanna be with you too Eddie. I don't need sex. That's not- i mean it's nice, really nice, sometimes. But i think... maybe it'd be nice to be with someone and not have it be about that? Is that- is that okay?" Steve moves his thumbs ovwr Eddie's cheeks, wiping the tears away.
"Steve. I might never want it. That's- that's a lot to ask i can't-"
"You're not asking. I'm offering." Steve licks his lips, takes a deep breath.
"I don't wanna be with you for sex. I like you Eddie. You're ridiculous, and smart, and kind, and so fucking weird. And you make me smile. You make me happy." Steve shrugs,
"That's why i wanna be with you. Cuz i like you. And i think you like me. So I'd like- I'd like to try. If you want?" His hand is on Eddie's thigh now. Eddie's heart is pounding. And Steve's still looking at him with that soft look. Eddie nods.
"Okay. Yeah. I wanna try. I want to." Eddie lays his hand over Steve's, he's shaking. Steve smiles at him, soft and sweet.
"Is kissing okay Eds? Cuz i really wanna kiss you right now." His smile grows as he talks, he looks giddy now, smiling like he can't help it. Eddie bites his lip, teeth digging into the bottom one as he smiles around them. He nods again.
"Yeah. Yeah kissing's okay." Eddie's says, breathless. Steve nods, his smile fading as he leans closer, his eyes on Eddie's mouth. Eddie closes his eyes when Steve's nose brushes his cheek, lets Steve lead.
It's just a soft press of lips, and then another. And then one more as Steve tilts his head the other way and slots their lips back together. His fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Eddie neck, not pulling, just resting there, holding Eddie close, like he's something precious. Like he's worth waiting for. Like he's happy just to have him, however he can.
Eddie smiles into the kiss. Feels Steve smile too, their teeth clicking as Steve keeps kissing him through their smiles, and eventual laughter. Steve kisses over his cheeks, and his nose, and his eyes, kisses all over his face until Eddie's laughing into his shoulder and Steve just holds him, laughing too, his hands moving over Eddie's back softly, holding him close as they settle together on the couch.
"I just want you, Eddie. Just you." Steve whispers, kisses Eddie's shoulder before Eddie pulls back and looks at him, tears in his eyes again.
"I want you too." Eddie shrugs, sniffles, wipes his face with the back of his hand. Steve smiles, bright and sweet, and tackles Eddie back onto the couch, settling on top of him and kissing him again and again and again.
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Daily reminder that fic writers work for free, yes every fic writer, the fic writer with bad grammar, the fic writer that writes characters ooc sometimes, the fic writer that takes awhile to update their works, the fic writer that has a different headcanon to you, they all work for free, they put out works for themselves and give them to you to read FOR FREE, so do not complain about something they wrote jfc, don't like don't read applies to everything not just kinks or dead doves ok EVERYTHING, don't like that Steve cries in this fic MOVE ON, don't like that Eddie is bi in this one MOVE THE FUCK ON, don't like that Steve is a bitch or Eddie is too ok with hard drugs JUST DON'T READ IT, the beauty of a large ship is that their truly is something for everyone NO ONE IS FORCING YOU TO READ IT, and if you truly can't find anything you like write it yourself so maybe you can understand that it's not easy being a fic writer ok.
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i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!
no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them
(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)
Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)
cw: weed, mention of transactional sex
dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers.
“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?”
You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it.
Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel.
“Same as usual?”
“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash.
You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.
“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.”
You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.
“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.”
“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.”
You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch.
“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you say.
“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?”
You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.”
Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?”
A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either.
“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.”
You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.
“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.”
“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.”
“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?”
You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.”
Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.”
You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex.
“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say.
He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.”
You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.”
“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?”
“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.”
“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.”
“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.”
His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.
Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you.
“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?”
You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.”
“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.”
For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them.
“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.”
He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye.
“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.”
You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something.
“A date?” you ask.
“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.”
“And you…don’t want to have sex.”
“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.”
You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.”
“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”
You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?”
“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?”
“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.”
“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”
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Bobby: I'm not getting any younger.
Eddie: ...Yes?
Bobby, sighs: Eddie, what I'm trying to say is I'd like to be walking my son down the aisle before my knees tell me I shouldn't be walking anymore.
Eddie, stammering: I, uh, I don't - what?
Bobby: This is going take awhile.
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blurb based on this anon everyone say thank you anon <3
(No pronouns used for R)
On the fourth night in a row of you sleeping like shit, Eddie takes matters into his own hands.
He makes it his private quest- Operation Fair Maiden’s Slumber- to get you to sleep and stay asleep. Unbeknownst to you, he’d started earlier that afternoon, casually handing you a mug of chamomile tea along with your paperback. You both stay curled up on the trailer’s couch with your respective books for awhile, your legs in his lap, his warm palm stroking up your thigh, until the sun dipped low enough to warrant turning on all the lamps in the room.
He makes you a proper, robust dinner- pasta and garlic bread, a carb-o-load for the ages to try and lull your stomach into hibernation. When the dishes are done, he asks if he can play you a song.
You get cozy in Eddie’s bed, blanket around your shoulders, while he sits cross-legged on the floor, plucking through the strings to tune. And when you’re settled, he starts playing- first it’s an old Fleetwood Mac song that he knows is your favorite, followed by a Bob Dylan single that he’s always found kinda hokey but he likes the way you close your eyes with the feeling of it.
All the while he keeps his singing soft, the melodies gentle, glancing up every so often to confirm you’re nestling deeper into the blankets. When he thinks you might’ve drifted off, he stealthily sets his guitar aside and climbs carefully onto the bed- only to startle when your eyes pop open, seemingly wide awake.
“Those were really nice songs,” you tell him, wrapping the blanket around you both so that he can lay across your body. “Thanks for giving me my own concert. I’m so lucky.”
“You deserve it, angel,” he says into your collarbone. As your arms wrap around his frame he slips his hands under your shoulders, cuddling into the warmth of you. “You want a bedtime story, too?”
When you nod, Eddie launches into a memorized monologue of the first chapter of Alice in Wonderland. It was one of your favorite books as a kid, so he’s hoping that the kick of nostalgia will be enough to send you off to dreamland.
And at first, he thinks it’s working- the small movements in your waist and shoulders he takes as a sign of your body settling into the mattress. But when the plush of your hip rolls against his crotch, he stops mid-sentence, affronted- “Baby... You’re supposed to be sleepy, not horny!”
“I can be both,” you pout, pulling Eddie towards you so that he’s forced to hover over you, his hair creating a curtain around your faces. “You’re just so handsome and sweet and I wanna thank you for your hard work…”
Your hand trails down his chest, against his stomach, and Eddie’s quickly losing the plot to his quest as you graze against his already half-hard clothed cock.
“You’re s’posed to…” his forehead dips to crush against yours, hips rolling into your hand automatically. “Tryn’a get you… to sleep…”
“An orgasm would help.” You stretch up to press your lips against his, and he kisses you back, a little whimper in your throat swallowed up by his mouth.
Eddie doesn’t totally abandon his quest, in the end. It just gets re-titled:
Operation Give the Fair Maiden One Two Three Orgasms. For Bedtime.
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After the events of Spring Break and long before either of them even consider dating, Steve and Eddie become friends. Eddie shares his weed and buys them alcohol, Steve provides food and a place for Wayne and Eddie to crash for awhile, and Robin kind of freeloads on everything (although she considers her witty one-liners and company payment enough). Even still though, it takes more than just friendship to force Steve to join a DnD campaign.
With the departure of Grant, Jeff, and Gareth from the Hellfire club, the Party is woefully short on manpower. Will joins and Eleven tries too but even with the addition of their two characters, the Party isn’t strong enough to survive Eddie’s devious campaigns. So they target Steve. Between Eddie’s pleading puppy dog eyes and the endless pestering of the kids, Steve joins. Initially, he’s hesitant. He thinks he’s only going to play a handful of games to get the kids back on their feet before parting with them. But then he discovers that he’s good at it. He discovers that he enjoys flirting with the NPCs and annoying the shit out of his fellow characters. He likes saving the kids and watching their backs in fights all too reminiscent of the Upside Down. It makes him feel useful, needed, wanted.
Most of all though, he likes seeing how his words affect Eddie. He starts looking forward to seeing the blank look on Eddie’s face when he does something he’s not expecting, forcing Eddie to dive into the very depths of his imagination. Steve likes seeing Eddie’s lips quirk into a smirk when his flirts land their mark. He imagines kissing the quirk away until those very same lips are bruised red with burst capillaries. He wants to see Eddie’s smile directed at him for every moment of everyday, not just from behind the Dungeon Master’s partition or on a dinner date with Robin. Steve wants to hear Eddie’s husky voice explain his plans for DnD while they cuddle in bed hiding from the cold Indiana winter (although he would never admit something so nerdy to anyone). His thoughts and Eddie’s reactions to his admittedly mediocre flirting only makes Steve like playing DnD with him more.
He especially enjoys the day when all the flirting finally leads Eddie to corner him once the kids leave to ask him out on a proper date (or in their case, Cheetos and strawberry milkshakes on the roof of Eddie’s van while watching snowflakes fall from frozen clouds). In hindsight, it only made him wish he’d joined the nerdy dragon club sooner. Maybe then he could’ve been kissing Eddie Munson for years by then. Steve guesses he’d just have to keep Eddie around for years to come.
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Filled to the Brim (E.M.)
mdni, 18+ (lots of sex stuff inside. shoo if you're underage)
WARNING: sex, lots of it. Bodily fluids (Eddie's cum). The mad writings of a woman who needs to get laid.
WORD: 1.4K
I was inspired by this fic by @emeritusemeritus, which is so filthy, good, and dirty.
Eddie cums like a freight train.
You noticed it the first time you had sex with him. You had finally stopped pining for each other and had decided that being friends wasn't good enough anymore. You were yanking on Eddie's shirt, but he took your hands in his before gently guiding you to his bedroom.
He forced you to slow down. He made you feel so precious that you had tears in the corner of your eyes. He kissed you for what felt like hours before he blazed a path between your legs. His plush lips and agile fingers had you singing for him before he finally covered your body and pushed into your warm, velvet walls.
He laid a steady rhythm, kissing you the entire time. You came with his name on your lips, and he followed almost immediately after. And when he did cum, it felt like he came for ages. Just when you thought he had given you all he had to offer, you would feel another twitch and hear another groan.
When he stopped to look where you were joined, he gasped; his orgasm extended when he noticed that he had filled you so much that his cum was trickling out around his cock. He pulled out of you, still hard, and watched as his cum puddled onto the bed. He had you three more times that night.
He told you it had been a while, so you didn't think much of it. But it didn't take long to realize that Eddie just came in buckets. It wasn't uncommon for you to be leaking him for hours after, even into the next day. The man ruined so many pairs of your panties, but you would forget all of that when he would hover over you in a post-orgasmic glow. Watching you like you were a goddess as he watched his cum dribble out of you.
It was a lazy Saturday. After morning kisses and breakfast, you and Eddie had made your way back to bed. With nowhere to be, you climbed into Eddie's lap. You bounced slowly and gently, hands on his shoulders as you took your time. Feeling every vein and inch of his thick cock as he made you feel so damn full.
Eddie's hands were on your hips, gently helping you bounce as you took the time to enjoy how the other felt. When you came, it was with a breathy cry. You collapsed onto his chest, body shaking as he moved his own hips to follow you into bliss. Eddie held you close, kissing you while you warmed his cock. You wished all Saturdays could be like this, but you began to squirm when you felt a growing wetness between you.
"Can't move like that, sweetheart. You're gonna get me hard again."
"Can't help it." Eddie opens his eyes, smirking when he sees why you can't keep still.
"Got a little messy today, huh?"
"You're always a little messy, love." Eddie's ears glow beet red at your comment, but he can't disagree with you when he pulls out of you and sees his cum make a trail down onto the sheets.
"Stay put; I'll get something and clean you up." He kisses you quickly, and you can't help but smile as he tidies you up while you lie pliant on the bed. The washcloth is warm, and he gives your inner thighs kisses as he wipes his cum off of you. When he runs the warm cloth between your lips, you can't help but squirm due to tenderness.
"Ssssh, I know. You did so good for me."
"Mmmm, you always treat me so good, Eds,"
"Wasn't talking to you." He says with a cheeky smile. You glance down to see his head resting on your upper thigh, his eyes level with your sore pussy. He cups you gently, his eyes finally meeting your own. "But you did good, too."
"You are so lucky I like you." You giggle as Eddie leaves kisses on your mound before making a path back up to your waiting lips. He kisses you softly, curling his body next to yours.
"Stay awhile?" he asks quietly, and you let him wrap his arms around you. It doesn't take long before the both of you are sleeping.
You wake up a couple of hours later, Eddie's side of the bed empty. There's a note on the nightstand saying that he didn't want to leave, but Wayne's truck died and needed Eddie's help and that he would be home as soon as he could.
You feel it the minute you stand. The slow trickle of Eddie's essence slowly makes its way down your thigh, and after stopping in the restroom, you head to the kitchen to start making dinner.
Almost an hour later, Eddie's van comes up the driveway. You have the radio on, singing along as you finish dinner. You threw on an old t-shirt and pajama shorts with no underwear, seeing as you were positive all of Eddie's cum was out of you.
You were so lost in the music that even though you knew Eddie was home, he was able to sneak up behind you. He loved scaring you, and when he heard you scream and jump, he started howling with laughter. He only stopped when he noticed you hunched over, one hand on the counter while the other cupped your sex.
"Babe, what's wrong? Oh shit, I didn't make you pee yourself, did I? I am so sorry!"
"Not pee," you say with a strained voice. Eddie walks closer to you, slowly moves your hand out of the way, and sees a wet spot on the front of your shorts. He looks confused, his eyes meeting yours for an explanation. "It's from earlier; I'm still leaking from this morning."
"Holy shit, that's my cum?" he asks, his voice full of disbelief. "There was that much?"
"There's always that much," you giggle. "But thanks to your scare, I'm pretty sure I'm empty now."
Eddie stares at you blankly for a moment, his brain seeming to reboot with this information you've given him. Before you can tease him again, he makes you shriek when he picks you up and places you on the counter. Your mouth hangs open when he pulls your shorts down and uses his thumbs to spread you open. His eyes are filled with wonder and delight, the brown swallowed by inky black as he sees his sticky cum clinging to your pussy.
He thrusts his tongue into you, making you gasp and moan as he devours you like a demon. He's moaning and shoving his face into you like he's trying to bury himself in your pussy. The sounds you make fill the kitchen and echo off the walls as his fingers dig into your thighs.
"Jesus Christ, Eddie!"
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? You should have said something 'cause I would have cleaned up after myself like a good boy should."
It's almost embarrassing how quickly Eddie has you cumming on your kitchen counter. There's no slow lead-up, he's doing everything in his power to get you to cum, now. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, and you cry out, not caring one iota if the neighbors can hear what Eddie is doing to you. He continues his onslaught, drinking down all you have to give until you're shaking and begging him to stop.
When you finally catch your breath and your soul returns to your body, Eddie comes up, and his hands reach for your face to pull you in for a kiss. It's filthy, all tongue and teeth, and you can taste yourself on his lips. Then his arms grasp you under your thighs, and you're holding his shoulders as he carries you down the hallway.
"My poor baby, you must have been so uncomfortable keeping my load in all morning," he says in that cocky dungeon master voice that has you keening in his ear. He tosses you on your bed, and both of you race to disrobe.
He climbs over you, his hands spreading your thighs open as he begins to slowly rub his heavy cock between your lower lips. You bully your lower lip between your teeth at how he looks at you, goddess and temptress all in one and just for him.
"What are you gonna do?" you ask, reaching for his hand. He briefly looks you in the eyes before he returns his gaze to where you are joined together.
I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. Now that you're all clean, I'm gonna fill you up until your pretty little pussy can't hold anymore. I wanna see you leaking me for days." You have a witty response ready, but all coherent thoughts leave your head when his fat cock breaches your warm, wet walls. If Eddie wants to conduct this experiment with you, you'll let him as long as he keeps fucking you like this.
The answer to Eddie's question ends up being 3 days.
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Okay but what about Eddie and reader having been going strong for awhile and Eddie wants to take things further and ask reader to marry him, but he wants to ask Roan’s permission first bc he cares about her opinion.
I thought this was so cute! it's almost entirely eddie and roan but r is mentioned lots and lots and is also a bit long my bad 🥺 ♡ fem!reader
He really wants to get you a ring.
Eddie Munson can be stupid. He makes rash decisions all the time. He bets on the wrong horses and he's almost always late to parent-teacher conferences. He buys Roan's clothes by holding them up to her body in the middle of the store and asking her if she likes them. He knows there's a thousand wrong decisions to make and half of them he's already made, but he really thinks this is the right one.
He just needs Roan to agree.
You're at your own place for once. Not for Eddie's lack of trying — he'd asked you to move in twice already, and though you'd kissed him silly and told him you loved him an insane amount, you'd reasoned that you should keep your place. (Though you had, in a way, moved in anyhow.)
"I don't want us to rush anything, Eddie," you'd said carefully, eyes on Roan's dark head of hair across the room. He'd followed your gaze. "I don't want to be the evil step-mom."
He'd promised that could never, ever happen.
He probably shouldn't have. While Roan literally loves you so much it makes her cry, things can change.
Right now, Roan thinks that she's sharing Eddie, and she's doing a great job at adapting to all the changes that come with that. Your clothes in his room, your coats on the hangers. Your work stuff where her princess ponies used to live, your fancy shampoo next to her jellybean two-in-one. Getting married would make you her bona fide mom. Eddie's not sure Roan realises that she's the one who'd be getting shared.
Though you act like you're her mom already. It's one of the many reasons he loves you. You've never once made Eddie feel bad for being a dad, or for having Roan full time. You genuinely miss her when she's at Wayne's. You love his daughter. You play games and you sing songs and you cuddle her whenever you can. You wash her hair and take care of her curls, you do plaits and bows and bunches. You'd learned how to do all of that stuff without ever having been asked.
Eddie wants to marry you so badly it's a physical ache.
Which is why he's as scared as he is to ask her about it.
"Roan?" he calls, stretched out over the couch with a coke can on his chest. Moping, maybe.
"What?" she calls back, voice littler still because of the distance.
"Are you busy?"
He hears the tap running and then she appears, water dripping down to her wrists. Eddie swaps her for the coke can, rubbing her wet hands dry with the excess fabric of his shirt.
She sits on his stomach. She's incredibly big and small at the same time.
"What, dad?"
"I got something to ask you."
Roan squirms until Eddie brings his legs up to let her lean against his thighs like a chair.
"It's a big question," he says tentatively.
Roan crosses her arms in front of her, hands on his stomach. "Like, big as you?"
"Right. Super big."
She nods thoughtfully before flashing a huge, charming smile. "Okay."
Eddie lifts his hands to her small face, tucking her freshly shorn locks behind her ears. Long hair like daddy had been a good idea in theory, but she just can't stand all the fuss of it.
"I'm asking because... You're five now. And I know you have lots of big feelings. I wanna know what you think about-" He doesn't chicken out, per se, more like opens softly midway through. "Uh, how you feel about Y/N."
Roan wrinkles her nose. "I love her."
"I know you do. And you don't mind that she spends so much time here?"
Again, Roan looks perplexed. How many times has she cried now because she wants to see you and you're busy? How many times has Eddie told her you can't spend all your time here? It probably doesn't make much sense to her that he'd be asking.
"No. I wanted her for my princess party after and you said no."
He grins ruefully. "I didn't say no, babe. She couldn't come because she's at her own house tonight."
"Why can't she be at our house?"
Brilliant question.
"She has stuff to do." Like make sure moths haven't eaten your clothes. And dust.
You don't really spend a lot of time there.
Roan harrumphs. "Whatever. Why can't we go to her house, then?"
He takes Roan's hands into his and toys with her smaller fingers. "I can't really explain it. But you like when she's here all the time?"
"Yeah," Roan says, clearly bored of this conversation.
He laughs under his breath and steels himself for a bunch of huge questions.
"You know I love you more than anybody else?" he asks.
"I love you more," she argues.
"No, like. Out of everybody in the world, I love you the most. I could love Uncle Wayne the most, but I love you the most." Sorry, Wayne.
And while Eddie loves you so much (and Wayne, of course), it's the truth. You're always gonna be that tiny fraction below, though Eddie's not sure he likes the word below. It's a different kind of love, regardless.
Roan seems really, really happy with this prospect. She giggles for a second and throws her arms out toward him, face landing perfectly under his chin.
"I love you, daddy," she says. She manages to sound both shy and exuberant, little face digging into his collar. "I would pick you out of the world too."
"You would?" he asks. Eddie's not too proud to admit he wells up. He laughs it off, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he can.
"You first. Um, and Uncle Wayne and Y/N and damnation and Stacey P. second most."
"Damnation your imaginary dog is on the same level as Uncle Wayne and Y/N?" he asks, laughing hard enough to shake under her hug.
"Dad!"
"Sorry. Your totally real and invisible dog."
"Well, maybe not as much as Uncle Wayne and Y/N."
"No, I thought so."
She hides her hands inside of his short sleeves. Eddie lets her get on with it, happy and honestly buffeted by her affection. He feels both the euphoria of having a great kid and the self-satifaction of a parenting win.
"Do you think Y/N loves me that much?" Roan asks. "In the world?"
"Yes," he says without hesitation. "Of course she does."
"Mm," Roan hums, pleased. "I miss her."
"If I ask you my really big question, maybe we can go see her afterward. But it's- it's a big question, Roanie, I mean it. And it's okay if you don't know the answer, or if you feel mad or angry first."
Roan looks very concerned, climbing up on his chest to giggle at him. "Ast me, dad."
He blows her hair out of her eyes with a breath from the corner of his mouth. Heart in his throat, he grabs a hold of her waist in one hand and tries.
"I want to ask Y/N to marry me."
She blinks.
"I don't know if she'll say yes, but if she does that means lots of things would change. We would live together, and we'd maybe not live so close to Uncle Wayne, I'm not sure. Do you know what I mean?"
Roan leans forward. "Marry in a wedding?"
"Yeah. A big wedding. Or actually maybe a little one. I haven't really asked. Roan..."
He drifts off, distracted by her lovely tiny face growing more and more excited by the second.
"She would-"
"She would be my mom?" Roan shouts, eyes wide with a blazing amusement. "She would be my mommy?"
"Sweetheart," Eddie says apprehensively, "I'm not sure-"
"Oh my god," Roan says, already climbing off of his chest.
"Roan, I really need to finish talking to you," he says, listening to her sprint away in defeat. He rubs his eyes for a second, stressed, though slowly he starts to smile.
That's a good reaction.
That's a great reaction.
"Roan, if we get married, that means more- It means a lot of things," he calls, struggling to keep the smile out if his voice as he gets onto his feet to track her down.
"Yeah!" Roan calls.
Eddie walks down the hall and finds her in the middle of her room, backpack in the middle of her floor and upheaved. She's crammed three different teddies inside and a mismatched pair of pajamas, and now seems to be deciding between her pens or her long crayons.
"Babe, what are you doing?"
"I'm getting my stuff!"
He bites back a ridiculous smile. "For what?"
"You said we'd ask the question and go see Y/N," she whines, expecting a rejection.
"I didn't ask my question yet."
Roan shoves her crayons into her backpack and stares at him expectantly, a frenzy of ringlets and a palpable excitement.
He feels suddenly sheepish. "So can I... Is that okay? If I ask her to get married?"
Roan starts laughing like a maniac, the smallest, most intense vestibule of joy that's ever existed. "Dad, I need my shoes."
"No, but you can't tell her! It's a secret!" he warns seriously.
"You said we could go!"
He looks down at his girl. She's frenetic, jumping on both feet with her hands bunched into fists like she's willing to fight him for this. She wants to see you so badly now she's practically vibrating.
"Alright. Alright, come on. Let's get your shoes on."
Roan screams and runs past him, almost barrelling him down. He picks up her backpack and zips it closed, standing in the middle of her room for a few private seconds.
"Holy shit," he whispers.
"Dad!"
"I'm coming, Roan," he says, closing the door behind him.
-
more eddie and roan
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I'm having some filthy thoughts about mid-20s rockstar!eddie and hotel maid!reader.
18+ only! I started typing and didn't stop, and this ended up longer than I thought it would be 😅 whoops!
cw: drug and alcohol usage, innocent!reader (but not really), oral m receiving, spit play, ball worship, exhibitionism
I think underneath the bravado and smug cockiness of his rockstar persona, Eddie is still the same Eddie we know - the one who resented how girls in high school hooked up with him just to say they hooked up with the freak. I think a buried part of him carries that with him long after he graduates. I'm sure once Corroded Coffin made it big he fucked his fair share of groupies and escorts and the like - the typical girls that would be invited to afterparties by his band managers and other such people. And that would be good for awhile, but I think eventually after the novelty wore off, their vibes would be too similar to those high school girls. Even though these ones are fucking him because he's a rockstar, they're still doing it at least partially for the clout. And while they're always good fucks - sensual, skilled, vocal - there's an air of exaggeration and performance to those encounters that Eddie gets tired of.
Jeff, Gareth, and Charlie aren't sick of it, though. They're still full of gleeful testosterone every afterparty, giggling like boys when the chicks take their teeny tops off and shake their boobs in their faces. Eddie still enjoys himself, too. He clinks shot glasses with them, and they all throw back top shelf alcohol, take bumps off the ornate coffee table, rub the dust into their gums and sink steadily into their highs. Sometimes the guys take their groupie of choice back to their individual rooms, and sometimes they don't even bother with that - they just hook up with those girls there on the couches while the leftovers dance up on each other and make eyes at Eddie. He sinks back into the armchair he's claimed for the night, sipping bourbon from a heavy tumbler and occasionally letting one of the bolder ones give him a lap dance if she mildly interests him. The girls don't dare complain that he won't fuck them; instead, his aloofness makes him all the more desirable, enough so that even a flirty word or a quick ass squeeze might send them into a dazzled tizzy and make them feel special.
You, though - standing at the hotel door after knocking politely with your elbow, a bucket full of ice and Don Perignon clutched by the handle in your small hands, held demurely in front of your starchy maid's uniform - Eddie is instantly intrigued by you. His hazy eyes light as he sees you, and he slips into his persona like a swan into water: leaning on the doorframe with one lean muscled arm, smirk like honey as he gazes down at you, his eyes raking over your body. He likes how you look up at him, your eyes all big and sweet as you hold out the bucket for him, the picture of hospitality. Your lips pull into a shy, innocent smile as he thanks you in a purr and calls you sweetheart. And now Eddie's thinking about what your lips would look like parted instead, the sounds you'd make with your head thrown back and heat across your cheeks as he gives it to you. He has a feeling that you - sweet, innocent, shy you - would never fake or exaggerate a single one of the sounds he pulls from your throat, and that's exactly what he's been wanting.
Eddie doesn't know it, but he's right: right that you are shy and sweet, and that you wouldn't fake your sounds, and that you've never even attempted to fuck someone famous before. But despite appearances, you aren't exactly innocent. You'd even consider yourself a little naughty, at least in the confines of your own mind. So when this pretty rockstar coaxes you inside, soothing your weak protestations that you're working by pointing out that no one but he and his friends are awake at three am, you find yourself rather quickly seated on his lap and breathing in his heady scent - smoke, earthen leather, and expensive cologne. You decline a bump but let him feed you one shot and then another, and when his lips capture yours, you don't stiffen or pull away. You sink into it, into him, heart pounding wildly as the music and feminine giggles and party sounds fill your ears and you realize this is really happening.
Before you know it, Eddie's tongue is down your throat and his fingers are tweaking your hardened nipples through your cotton uniform. You moan breathily into his mouth and he wonders how far you'll be willing to let him go. The thought that you'd let him have his way with you here, in front of Charlie, Jeff, and Gareth and all the groupies and escorts and band managers - so many fuckin' people in this room, when did that happen, anyway? - makes his dick almost painfully hard. He palms the back of your head as his kiss grows more aggressive, more demanding, and it's cute how you try to keep up with him.
Considering your shyness, Eddie is surprised how easy it is to get you on your knees. Your mouth salivates as he stands and unbuckles his belt, and the sound of others in the room noticing what you and he are doing feels distant as he takes out his cock. It's ruddy and thick if not too long, pierced on the end with two silver balls that make you want to feel that metal against your tongue. Your head spins pleasantly as Eddie thrusts into your mouth, and he's gratified at how willing you are as you let him work his way into your throat. "That's it, baby," he groans, his dick kicking against your tongue as you look up at him with big wet eyes. His palms press to your ears, holding your head still as he sets a shallow but insistent pace, fucking your face in plain view of the others. "You're a fuckin' angel," he praises you roughly, and you whine happily, throbbing between your legs beneath your uniform. "Stick out that little tongue for me." You obey, and he taps his cockhead against it, smearing your spit over his pinked skin.
There are the groupies and escorts with their perfect makeup and flawless skin, and then there's you, baby hairs sticking to your skin as Eddie rubs his cock all over your face, getting you messy with your own spit. You kneel on the hotel carpet and let him, still with that dumb little smile and your thighs squeezed tight as you try to bring yourself some relief.
Eddie thinks, then, that maybe you'll let him do anything - anything he wants. He holds up his cock towards his belly button, and his sack brushes your nose. "Lick my fuckin' balls," he tells you, thrilling inside when you dive right in, burying your face between his legs, licking and suckling with your sweet little lips and your hot little tongue. He holds you against him with a grip on your hair, and you hum as he grinds himself against your face. "Fuck," he hisses, repeating it almost desperately when he catches a glance of your face when his fist tugs up his cock, so sweet and smitten as you look up at him.
A need burns in the pit of Eddie's belly, and that's when he knows:
He's going to fuckin' ruin you.
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when you get home you instantly need to take off your day clothes and get into something comfy. preferably no bra and no pants and a shirt that may or may not be eddie’s.
eddie has grown accustom to this ritual and loves sitting down somewhere watching you walking around the room shedding clothes.
first it’s your pants, kicked off at the entry way to the bedroom. then your shirt and you’re left in your bra and panties. he takes the time to appreciate the soft lines of your body, how your underwear hugs your asscheeks and gets caught between them. he traces the strap of your bra as it sits on the edge of your shoulder almost sliding off but not quite.
you walk around with the days mail in your hand, one arm coming around to skilfully unclasp your bra. eddie is always in awe at how you can do it so swiftly. and just like magic, your bra slides down your arms, revealing your tits as you stand there reading over a letter you received. eddie takes a picture with his mind, you standing there in just your panties, hair a mess from the day, fully relaxed with your bumps and curves, hunched over a little to read.
you chuck the letter and remaining mail on the bed and walk over to your dresser. eddie watches your back muscles contract as you pull open the drawer, the rolls of your sides moving with you. you pull out an old shirt eddie gave you awhile ago and turn around as you pull it over your head. eddie’s eyes watch the hem of the shirt cover your pretty face and slide down your body, over you boobs, and dropping over your hips and just covering your panties from view.
you take a breath at the feel of being fully comfortable in your clothes and look up to see eddie with a soft loving smirk on his face.
“what?” you ask him.
“jus’ lookin’ at my pretty girl.”
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