steve harrington biggest corroded coffin (eddie) fan
this concept is so funny to me like s1 steddie fucking hilarious eddie would have the most embarrassing crush on the worst human being ever (in his opinion) and would be SO ANGRY about it
Chaotic steddie cuddles
i saw this and thought of eddie and roan and roan hiding the readers stuff so she can't leave
okay i thought it would be so sweet if the first time you eddie asks you to spend the night is totally roan's fault but of course you're down cos it's mechanic girl dad!eddie o.O (fem!reader)
"Eddie?" you call, mildly perplexed. "You didn't move my shoes, did you?"
You raise your voice so he can hear you over the sound of the washing machine and the running faucet. "My shoes, handsome! Have you seen them?"
Eddie throws the hand towel over his shoulder looking every bit as attractive as your pet name implies, work shirt still tucked into his form-fitting pants, hair pulled away from his face in a wild, low-lying pony tail. "They're right-" He stops at your side, his hand sliding around your back. You try not to melt into his touch. You're supposed to be leaving. "Here," he says, dumbfounded. "They were right here. Um..."
"Maybe I took them off by the couch?" you murmur, more to yourself than him. Eddie rubs a line up and down your hip, the issue more curious than urgent.
"Maybe," he agrees, dark brows pinching together. "Huh."
You peel away from him reluctantly and slip around the couch. There's no shoes in sight, only a very primly sitting Roan in the middle where you left her.
"Hey, baby," you say distractedly, lifting her blanket to check the floor underneath. You search the carpet like they might be hiding in plain view and find nothing. When you pull your head back up she's looking at you strangely. "I've lost my shoes. Have you seen them?"
You narrow your eyes at her tone, theatrically suspicious. "Are you lying to me, little miss?"
"No," she says again.
Her no's are nervous like she's holding in a laugh. You scrutinise the way she's sitting, the way her back's not quite touching the couch cushions.
"Hmm, okay. Would you help me look, please?"
Roan seems like she might stand and then drops back down. "No."
"No?" You pout at her dramatically, doing your best to look upset. "Okay, I guess I'll look by myself."
Eddie returns from his own searching and shrugs at you. "Babe, I don't know where they are. Seriously, s'like they've disappeared."
You dip your head as inconspicuously as you can toward his daughter, eyes flitting between them both suggestively. His face fills with clarity.
"Roan, you haven't seem them, have you?" Eddie asks, smirking at you.
"No," she lies, obvious and endearing simultaneously. She can't look at him as she does.
"Roan Munson," he says.
She looks up, deer-in-the-headlights. "Daddy?"
"You gonna sit there on your butt or are you gonna help us look?" he asks.
She shrinks with relief for a second before panic flits across her face. Finally, she flops back like she's going to have a sulk and says, "I'm tired, daddy," while giving Eddie the biggest, sweetest doe eyes ever.
He laughs. You glare at him reproachfully and lean down to kiss the top of her head. You can see the rubber toe of one shoe sticking out behind her.
"Roan," you say patiently, squatting down in front of her with her face cradled in your hands. "I need my shoes, baby."
She crumples like wet paper, the kind of quick tears that come with childhood panic. It shocks you into reassuring her, clumsy and nowhere as elegant as Eddie would be.
You move onto your knees. "Roan. You're not in trouble or anything, it's okay."
Fear hits you in the chest like a flat palm. Fat tears roll down her cheeks and pool at the apple of her tiny chin. You throw your gaze to Eddie for help.
He comes to kneel beside you and steal one of her hands, unfurling the tight fist she's made. "You're okay, you can calm down," he says, sympathetic but firm. "Nobody's mad."
"I don't want her to go home," she cries.
You rub your lips together. "You'll see my again on Friday, princess."
"I want to see you again now." Her voice cracks in two different places. You offer your open palm and take her other hand, side-eyeing Eddie for some assistance.
"She can't stay tonight," he tells her regretfully.
"But why?" she demands.
"I have things I need to do. I have to feed my fish, and wash my clothes for work, I have to have a shower. All my things are at my house." You try to explain as Eddie does, calm and careful.
"You can have my clothes."
Eddie chokes back his laughter and runs the flat of his palm up her arm soothingly. "How about... on Friday, if it's okay with Y/N, she can stay and have a sleepover with us?" He looks at you to make sure his offer is okay.
You jump in. "Oh my god, yes! I'll feed my fish lots and lots and bring my pajamas and I'll stay for two days."
"Really?" Roan asks hopefully.
"Really really. I'll be here all night."
She takes a deep breath. Eddie rubs her arm in encouragement for the long, slow minutes it takes her to calm down. You can tell he's pleased at how well she's accepting the compromise.
"Okay," she says, sad but nowhere near as upset as she had been.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"You have to go?" she asks again.
You smile at her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have to. You'll be fine when I do, you'll see. And you can't tell me your poor back isn't hurting from my shoes, princess."
She leans forward. Eddie grabs your shoes.
"Thank you," you say. "Doesn't your back feel better?"
"No," she whines.
You frown at her. She takes her hands back and before you have the time to worry she's reaching for your shoulders.
You pull her up into your arms for a hug obligingly. One hand behind her head of dark hair, the other at her back, you rake your fingers through the silken softeness of her curls and smile like a fool. She's small, impossibly heavy, a heat against your chest that feels right.
When you look up you find Eddie staring and give him a sheepish smile. You're not sure how much you're allowed to love her — how could you not? — and you feel a tad embarrassed when he catches you like this.
"Is that cool?" he says under his breath.
You nod voraciously, pat-pat-patting Roan's back. You'd love to spend the night. The thought of sharing a bed with him gives you butterflies.
He turns his head to the side and leans in for a kiss. It's a short peck like he's trying to make it quick, but then he laughs softly and gives you another.
"Thank you," he says.
You clear your throat. "Of course. Can't wait."
more eddie and roan
his iconic tongue looks 🥰🥰🥰
𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭
(𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie helps you with your cramps. [1.1k]
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: periods, reader feeling insecure, oral (f!receiving), eddie is a messy eater.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Of course I am, sweetheart,” he says. “Anything I can do to help.”
Eddie had noticed there was something wrong from the moment he answered the door to his trailer- the way you hunched over yourself and wrapped your arms around your middle worried him. He’d asked you immediately, you shrugged him off and reassured him that it was just your period.
He tried everything to help as the day went on and the cramps got worse: placing his big warm hands on your lower stomach, a hot water bottle, a back massage. And when all of those things didn’t work, he’d offered an alternative, one that he’d heard could work miracles.
You cringe as he pulls your panties down your legs, praying that he won’t be grossed out by the used pad that sits in them. But it’s almost as if he can sense your worry, not even looking at your underwear before tossing them blindly off his bed with a soft smile and a reassuring rub of your thigh.
Making his way down your body, he squishes the meat of your soft thighs gently before prying them open and settling between them. His tongue peeks out to lick his bottom lip as his eyes meet your red folds, his expression almost hungry looking. It’s only then that it dawns on you what he’s up to.
“Eds, what’re you doing?”
“Making you feel better,” he states simply.
“Yeah… I thought you’d, you know… use your fingers or something,” you trail off, nerves starting to take over.
He stares at you for a moment, his brown eyes narrowing in determination, “I’m not going to let a little blood get in the way of me tasting you.”
“Well, I’ll taste different- bloody,” you panic. “And it’ll be messy.”
Without a word, he trains his eyes on yours as he leans forward and licks one long stripe from your opening upwards, circling his tongue around your clit. All thoughts of embarrassment leave your mind, throwing your head back at the sensation, feeling so much more sensitive than usual. Eddie grins widely when you look down, and you notice the speck of blood on his chin.
“Taste as good as ever, sweetheart. Do you think you could let me have some more?”
He makes it sound like he’s doing this for his own benefit, for his own pleasure- that one small taste of you like this already addictive.
“Please, Eddie,” you say breathlessly, hips starting to lift off the bed to chase the euphoric feeling.
Diving back in, he attaches his lips around your bundle of nerves and suckles softly, testing the waters. Having seen your body react so well to one small touch, he makes a mental note of how sensitive you are and proceeds with caution. He casts his eyes up your form as he flicks his tongue over your nub, pleased to see your brows knitted together with pleasure and your chest heaving.
Bringing his tongue back down to your opening, he moans at your familiar taste, now laced with the metallic flavour of your blood. It’s almost like he thrives off of this new combination coating his tastebuds, now starting to roll his hips into the mattress to find some sort of relief. He scolds himself for this, reminding himself of the task at hand, but he just can’t bring himself to stop.
If you weren’t filled with such need you would probably feel embarrassed at how quickly the burn in your lower stomach starts to creep in. You desperately rut your hips against Eddie’s face, pushing the worries about the inevitable mess out of your head.
He whines at this, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his face and muttering against your core, “that’s it baby, take what you want.”
You grab onto his long, unruly hair as you cum, your mouth falling into a perfect O shape as you cry out his name. You’re overtaken by warmth spreading through your body, the persistent ache in your stomach finally giving way.
You’re so overwhelmed, in fact, that you miss the way Eddie’s body tenses as a wave of your arousal meets his waiting tongue, his hips coming to a halt and pressing into the mattress. What you don’t miss however, is the groan that is released from deep within his chest, making your whole core flutter with oversensitivity.
When you look down, he’s breathing heavily against your folds. You release his hair and use your hand to tilt his chin upwards. The sight you’re met with is one you try so desperately to commit to memory.
Your boyfriend looks equally as blissed out as you do- his eyes looking heavy and his face flushed, a small, dazed smile on his face. What really gets your attention though, is the red blood that is smeared across his whole face. You knew it would be messy, but not to this extent. Too lost in the post-orgasmic haze to feel embarrassed, you burst out laughing.
“How the hell did you get it all up here?” You say between giggles as you point to the blood that stains not only his chin, but his cheeks and somehow, his forehead.
“Sweetheart,” he says in a fake stern voice. “You should know this by now, but when I eat pussy, I eat it with my whole heart and my whole face.”
I can attest to that, you think to yourself as you collapse on the bed in a fit of giggles. Eddie climbs over you and rests his forearms on either side of your head, curls falling down over you both like a curtain. He looks at you as he laughs, his brown eyes filled with love. It’s almost impossible to take him seriously when he looks like a vampire after a really good feast.
“So much better, thank you,” you reply with a quick peck to his lips.
“How about a shower?” He suggests, shifting the crotch of his black jeans uncomfortably.
It’s only then that it hits you, snaking your hand between your bodies to palm his jeans. It’s there that you find a large wet patch. His face is flushed when you meet his eyes, looking incredibly sheepish.
“So, I wasn’t the only one that had a good time then?” You teased with a smile, feeling quite pleased with yourself considering how nervous you were about him being grossed out.
“It was really fucking hot,” he replies under his breath, his face becoming even more flushed as he recalls the minutes prior.
“C’mon, vampire. Let’s get cleaned up,” you giggle.
It’s safe to say there wasn’t much cleaning that took place in the shower, more like creating even more of a mess. But in Eddie’s defence, he just loves to help.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @mindidjarin @sweetpeapod
I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS REAL SJDBDJDBF IT SAYS “noooo how could you?” HEKDJFJDNFB
they were marathoning Star Wars
Queen [E. M]
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
summary: Eddie hates the sudden crush you're having for a celebrity and when you find out why it turns out to be the cutest thing in the world
A/N: okay I have to confess that this one shot it's pure self-indulgence because I have been so obsessed with Queen lately
I liked them a lot when I was a teenager and I think this love had only been dormant in me, lmao
Anyways this is short but I hope you like it!
Eddie walked around the cafeteria, looking around at you. When he found you, you were holding a magazine in your hands and as he walked towards you, he swore he heard a sigh of love.
"Hey, girl," he exclaimed as he plopped down next to you, watching you jump startled.
“Hi,” you said excitedly, as you closed the magazine and put it aside. Eddie took the opportunity to glance sideways and he couldn't contain an annoyed groan when he saw the cover. It had Queen, the group you've been obsessed with lately.
"Seeing that band again?"
"Yes!" you replied, not noticing the annoyed tone your friend had used "I found this magazine at Mitch's stand near my house, can you believe it?" you exclaimed, as you opened it to a certain page. Eddie rolled his eyes when he saw the photograph on it.
"That blond again?"
Eddie vaguely knew the group, he had seen them on television and he didn't dislike them, he could even say that he liked some songs. But now it was different, because your fascination was directly proportional to the hatred he had for them. He didn't even have a valid reason, he just felt extremely angry that you liked them so much. It was difficult to understand and much more difficult to explain. But of all, the one he hated the most was Roger.
“He's not just a blonde, he's the most handsome man on earth. Just look at it!” you screeched, showing him the photo. "I'm in something like a fan club and they just sent me these pictures of them in Brazil, look at them," you continued, handing him three small polaroids. There were two groups and one with just the bassist and drummer “He looks so handsome in white. And he just looks at her hair and her smile and her eyes…”
"Isn't this guy like 40 years old?"
“36!” you corrected him, completely offended.
"Which means he could be your father."
"And what does that matter?" you insisted “If he were here right now, I would let him do with me what he wanted”
“Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed, suddenly modest, but you giggled.
“I could literally melt from how hot he is, have you seen him as a young man? With that long hair that looks so soft. I swear I could…”
"Hello!" Dustin greeted, arriving just in time to prevent you from saying another obscenity out loud. Eddie felt completely ashamed of your thoughts. Sure he knew what sex was and he had a couple of dirty magazines in his bedroom, but it felt so weird to hear you saying those things.
The matter faded as lunch progressed, but he still felt strange looking at the magazine and photos lying next to you, a feeling he tried to ignore.
The days passed, then the weeks, and Eddie felt calmer when you hardly even talked about the rock band. Only an occasional mention or when you took off your headphones and because of the volume so high he managed to hear a little of one of their songs.
Until one day he was waiting for you outside your house to go for a walk and you approached with the biggest smile you've ever had. Eddie thought you were excited to see him until he saw a cassette in your hand and he was oddly disappointed.
"Check out what I just bought!" you exclaimed euphorically, without even greeting him, while you showed him the little plastic box that had The Works written on it accompanied by an image of four men "I'm going to put it on your stereo"
“Hello to you too, how are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking,” he said wryly, but you just laughed softly. The first song started playing when Eddie was already driving down the street; It was something disco.
"Oh, this song was written by Roger," you told him excitedly. It was catchy and good, but Eddie wasn't going to admit it and decided to say something impolite instead.
"Didn't he also write a super weird fuck-a-car song?"
"What? Nope!" you laughed "It's called I'm in love with my car and it's like, huh, a metaphor"
"I repeat, it's weird and that guy is weird too," he snorted, but you didn't register his angry tone because you were too busy nodding your head to the beat of the music.
You had decided that you would go for ice cream and so you did. For most of the afternoon you were talking and talking, while Eddie just ate his ice cream and answered in monosyllables. You thought it was just a passing thing but he kept silent even on the way to your house, which if he was out of the ordinary.
"Why are you so quiet, Ed?" you asked, genuinely interested.
“It's nothing” he lied, even though you knew it wasn't. He reached for you and you thought he would hug you, but instead he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a cassette which he reluctantly tossed into your lap. “I recorded that song for you. I hope you still want to hear that kind of stuff now that you're a Queen fan,” he muttered without much encouragement. But you smiled when you realized what was happening.
“Is this why you are mad? Is it because I like Queen now?”
"I'm not mad," he defended himself, but his crossed arms and the pout on his lips said something else.
When you looked more closely at the cassette you realized that it was covered in purple foil and had both your name and his written in that boy's ragged handwriting.
So in a second everything seemed to click and you understood why Eddie was upset every time you listened to the band or talked about your crush. He wasn't angry, he was jealous.
"God, it can't be, are you worried that I'll stop listening to your music because I like Queen?" you said, trying not to sound mocking, but with a smile you couldn't hide.
"Again I don't know what you're talking about, please go now, it's late and your parents are going to be angry"
"Ed, you can't be serious," you insisted. The whole thing was so silly "Or is it that you're mad because I like Roger?"
“I already told you it's nothing! OK?" he muttered. He really looked upset and you felt bad for a moment, until you heard him speak again “I don't even understand what you see in that guy. He just plays drums and he's white, it's not a big deal” he said grumbling “And lately you just talk and talk about him and how handsome he is and all that shit and he's like 20 years older than you!”
If it had been someone else, you probably would have laughed and told him to go to hell. But it turns out that the one who was sick with jealousy at your crush on a rockstar was your best friend, the same guy who was trying to be a rockstar himself and didn't want to share the job with anyone else. That's why you found the whole thing totally cute.
“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about? I like him, yes, but it's not like he's my next-door neighbor to run away with. He's thousands of miles away from here because he's a fucking Brit who has a huge bunch of fans just like me. And besides, he's married and has kids,” you laughed, punctuating this last part.
And suddenly Eddie felt so dumb. He was being an idiot being jealous of someone you didn't even know and wouldn't know anytime soon and all because he had a bit of a crush on you and hated it when someone else stole your attention. He wanted you at band rehearsals, hearing and complimenting their songs, but that need for attention had gone too far. So he continued to fold his arms and fled from your gaze, but this time out of sheer embarrassment.
"Eddie, could you at least look at me?" said. You were very persistent and he knew it, so he had no choice but to turn to see you. You weren't the least bit upset, on the contrary, you looked the most amused "Does that calm your jealousy a bit?"
"I'm not jealous" he spat, as if you had just done him the worst offense in the world, but you kept talking with that smile on your face.
“Well, in case you were jealous, I have to tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I prefer guitarists, before drummers”
"Really?" he asked, oddly hopeful, but still feeling like an idiot.
"Of course! There is one in particular with very nice curls and brown eyes” you exclaimed. Eddie let go of that angry frown and smiled at this, almost blushing, “His name is Brian May, do you know him? He is part of the band Queen”
"Okay, now get out of the car and go home," he said suddenly, returning to that frown that made you laugh out loud.
"I'm kidding! Obviously I mean you” you exclaimed, approaching him and putting one of your hands on his arm to ease the tension “Corroded coffin will always be my favorite band and I'll be at every concert. And you will always be my favorite musician, I promise you,” you said sweetly, as you closed the distance further and hugged him. That's when he relented and wrapped both hands around you as he breathed in the scent of your hair. Even though it was already clear that it was nonsense, he felt calmer now “What do you say we listen to that song together, huh? I want to know what my pretty boy wrote,” you continued. Eddie wanted to die because you had called him yours and pretty in the same sentence.
Without waiting for an answer you took the cassette and placed it delicately in the player, still with your body leaning against his to assure him that you were serious.
TAG LIST: @sweetdayme4427 @smol-book-nerd @ilikewomendealwithit @harringt8ns @katsukis1wife @ilovereadingfanfics @tvserie-s-world
It wasn't metal, it was just Eddie playing the acoustic guitar from his room as he sang in a soft, husky voice. The song spoke of friendship, love, and joy. From a person who was lucky to have another and didn't want to lose them. As the words echoed through the car, your head rested on the boy's chest, and your arm wrapped around his body, a tender smile spread across your face. And so you stayed for a long time, just enjoying the warmth and affection that Eddie emanated.
it's been two hours but I'm being so emotional about Roan like she's so so attached to the reader already she's so sweet 🥺 just imagine someone at the grocery store or a coffee shop seeing them and thinking of the reader as Roans mom and she's just like yeah 🥰 I've claimed this girl as my mother now
I kind of did you claiming her as your kid but also from how much she wants to sit in your lap she definitely claims u back | dad!eddie x fem!reader
As soon as Eddie leaves to get drinks, Roan slides off of her chair and onto the floor with a great whoosh of curls and tulle. Her skirt fans out around her and she looks at you in shock. You don't think she meant to fall quite like that.
"You slipped!" you say, trying to sound as happy as you can. "Poor girl, is your skirt more slippery than you thought?"
She smiles likes it's funny and you consider the situation salvaged. "I fell off the chair," she says.
"You did. Do you wanna come and sit with me instead? I'll keep you up here, no more slipping," you offer. You suspect that had been her intention anyhow.
She gets onto wobbly legs and walks around the low table separating you both. She reaches up and you slide your hands under her armpits to pull her as kindly as you can into your lap, her back to your chest, your arm around her soft tummy.
"How's that?" you ask quietly.
"Thank you," she says.
"You're welcome, sweetheart," you say, brushing back the curtain of hair hiding her face affectionately. You couldn't mean the pet name more; she has the sweetest heart ever.
"Are we having cake?" Roan asks, dipping her head back against your chest to look at you upside down.
"Mm, that depends. Have you been nice to your daddy this week?"
"Mostly!" Your eyes crinkle with humour. "Yeah, I heard all about what happened yesterday."
Roan pouts and drops her head. "It was only by accident."
Roan had pushed a picture frame off of Eddie's night stand. Whether it was truly an accident has yet to be decided — Eddie had confided that he didn't think it was accidental at all, because Roan had cried for hours. Guilty tears, he'd theorised, reluctantly fond.
"I know, baby," you say, worried to provoke her into a tantrum. It doesn't really feel like your place to tell her off, either way. "And you said sorry, didn't you?"
"And daddy said it was okay?"
"Yeah, he did."
You wedge your hand against her side and tickle her. "Then it's okay. I bet daddy'll get you cake and ice cream no problem if you ask nicely."
She giggles into your arm and starts grabbing at you to stop you. You grin and try harder, fingers scratching lightly over her sides. Her laugh is piercingly brilliant. You look up, hoping Eddie will be on his way back from the counter with your drinks so he can witness her catching happiness and end up locking eyes with an older lady passing by.
"I think you've trapped her," the old woman says. She talks kindly and has a very grandmotherly air about her as she smiles.
"Me too. Gotta keep the little trouble-maker pinned," you say, smiling brightly.
"That's the truth! Or they'll run circles around you." She throws her hand out like she's batting away a fly. "You look like a good girl, though."
You dip your head toward Roan's ear. "What do you think, are you a good girl?" you murmur encouragingly.
Roan nods frantically. You and the old woman both laugh. "I think she is," you say.
"That's the way. You keep being good for you mom, okay?" the woman says, giving a little wave before continuing on to the bathroom.
Your heart does this weird skip. You could correct her, she doesn't exactly walk fast. You could open your mouth, say, "Oh, she's not mine."
You don't. You tighten your arm around Roan's middle and push your nose into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "You're always good for me," you say smugly.
"And always a menace for me," Eddie says.
He holds a plate in one hand and two cups of coffee in the other, an expert balancing act. You'd get up to help him if you could bare to move his lovely daughter, but you can't so you don't.
Eddie takes your sheepish smile like it's nothing and carefully places the plate and one mug in front of you. "Cake for my baby, coffee for my baby."
"Which ones for me?" you ask teasingly.
Roan reaches for the cake and almost slides right out of your lap. It really is a slippery skirt. You hold her to your chest and nab the plate for her, delighted to find it hosts a fresh looking slice of chocolate cake and a small scoop of ice cream, a silver spoon wedged deep in the cake's buttercream.
"Did you want cake?" he asks worriedly, stood in wait.
You hold the plate in your lap and settle, offering Roan the spoon. She grabs it and digs in with a gleeful hum.
"I'm good," you say. "Did you?"
Eddie strokes his hand from the centre of your forehead to your hairline and kisses the invisible line left behind. "Got all the sweetness I need right here," he says.
more eddie and roan