thatmunsonboy - Tumblr blog

thatmunsonboy · 6 months

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ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck.

That’s where he lingers.

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there.

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed.

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now.

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times �� including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy.

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

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thatmunsonboy · 7 months

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“Not all men-”

You’re right… Eddie would never.

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thatmunsonboy · 7 months

Text

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.”

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

And then the live is over.

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.

He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.

"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer.

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

…

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised.

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.

“Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise.

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg.

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?” You whisper.

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.

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thatmunsonboy · 7 months

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Bestfriend reader and eddie jumping up and down, excited squealing - like him and dustin did during the bats- after they just got married

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thatmunsonboy · 9 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove/Eddie Munson Characters: Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Teasing, Dom/sub Undertones, if you were old enough to watch the show you’re old enough for this fic, Suggestive Themes Summary:

Eddie decides to tease his boyfriends in the shower after basketball practice.

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thatmunsonboy · 10 months

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College!Harringroveson AU where they're all got singles in the dorm next to each other

And Steve has the misfortune of being the one in the middle when the war of very niche music genres begins between Billy and Eddie where they would play it louder and louder every night despite all the complaints and threats from the administration, and no one can even tell what's the difference between what they are playing is

And one day, after a consultation with Robin, Steve gets the biggest and the loudest fucking speakers he can get and just blasts the most annoying pop he could find

Only to immediately have both Billy and Eddie banging on his door, yelling at him almost louder than the music is playing

After he opens the door to finally ask them this doesn't feel nice, does it, one thing leads to another and the next morning he falls into his seat next to Robin on his first lecture of the day, disheveled, asking her what to do if he fucked two guys at the same time

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thatmunsonboy · 10 months

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Metalsandwich

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪

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thatmunsonboy · 11 months

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Steve is complaining to Eddie and Robin about how he's going through a dry spell, how he hasn't even tried flirting with the ladies. Meanwhile, he was giving Eddie several longing looks.

Eddie: *pulling a piece of thread out of his pants* You just have to get back on those whores, Steve.

Robin: It's horse, Eddie. You've got to get back on that horse.

Eddie: *looking at her, horrified* Why would anyone do that with a horse?

Robin: No, it's - you know what, never mind.

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thatmunsonboy · 11 months

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imagine eddie lives because of his slightly scary girlfriend

*eddie is about to cut the makeshift rope

gf yelling: “edward munson put that down and get your ass up here where it’s safe!”

*eddie drops his weapon

eddie: “yes ma’am. coming!”

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thatmunsonboy · 11 months

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small town masterlist - [in progress]

Well, I was born in a small town And I live in a small town Probably die in a small town Oh, those small communities

Spring break had come and gone in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana, and, surprisingly enough, the world hadn't ended. Yet.

Join Eddie and Dottie as they navigate what's left of the school year, graduation, D&D sessions with the Hellfire Club, falling in love, and potentially deadly supernatural encounters kicking off on a certain Very Important Anniversary no one stopped to warn them about. '86, baby. eddie munson/original female character, st4 fix-it, slow burn, strangers to friends (idiots) to lovers, found family, canon-typical violence, swearing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending (check each chapter for specific warnings)

word count: 92.9k (and counting!)

chapter list:

chapter 1 - the wild boys [1.7k] chapter 2 - what you need [1.4k] chapter 3 - tonight she comes [3.9k] chapter 4 - manic monday [4.1k] chapter 5 - i've got a rock 'n' roll heart [3.2k] chapter 6 - walking on sunshine [2.7k] chapter 7 - the search is over [4.1k] chapter 8 - the heat is on [4.4k] chapter 9 - adult education [3.8k] chapter 10 - that's what friends are for [7.5k] chapter 11 - true colors [5.5k] chapter 12 - fortress around your heart [7.1k] chapter 13 - you give good love [9.5k] chapter 14 - missing you [6.0k] chapter 15 - don't you want me [7.3k] chapter 16 - let's hear it for the boy [12.2k] chapter 17 - girls just want to have fun [7.7k] *NEW* chapter 18 - *coming on friday, june 30th*

extras:

[1] official small town playlist (full post) + spotify link only [2] hellfire class of '86 class schedules [3] wayne's chicken rice soup recipe [4] maggie's lemon strawberry cake recipe *NEW* [5] *coming soon*

dividers: @firefly-graphics - yellow lines & daisies

ao3 link: start from chapter 1 here

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thatmunsonboy · 11 months

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Montana Blues

Synopsis: When you moved to Hawkins, Billy Hargrove quickly became the pain of your existence. As an arrogant fuckboy trying to lure you into his bed, you take absolute pleasure in turning him down times and times again—even if he’s getting on your nerves. But when you find out that Billy practically threatened the entire male population of Hawkins to keep their hands off you because you are his, you snap. How fucking dare he?!

Words: 3714 Warnings: smut, lots of f-bombs

Keep reading

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thatmunsonboy · 11 months

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Aren't We All Sinners? - Vol. I: The Good Girl's Guide to Secular Music

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader Word Count: 3.4k Summary: Summer 1991, you're home from college and questioning everything you were raised to believe by your preacher father. When another fight leads to you storming out of the house and driving aimlessly, you stumble upon a record shop and a man who would change life as you know it for good. -- OR -- Eddie Munson teaches you that there's more to music than praising Jesus. Warnings: WHOLE SERIES 18+ ONLY! For this chapter, only adult language and a bit of Eddie being a perv. More warnings to come as they become relevant.

[Series Masterlist] [Mixtape Playlist]

It’s a tough pill to swallow, the first summer home after going away to college. The bittersweet sting of dry, over-conditioned air and watchful eye of strict parents after your first real taste of freedom.

Coming out of your shell at university took some time. Nineteen, fresh off of two years at the local catholic junior college and a lifetime of lectures from your preacher father, you swore you wouldn’t make any waves, you were just there to get an education and that was it. What you didn’t expect was that out there, out from under your parents shadow and influence, you would be exposed to all sorts of walks of life. You found friends in people you never would have expected – or even had the chance to meet had your parents had any say – and your randomly assigned roommate challenged your beliefs and pushed your buttons in a way for which you could never thank her enough. But as soon as your guard started to drop the school year was over and you were shuttled back home to curfews and modesty and God-centered TV programming.

Now, it’s the summer of 1991 and you’re questioning more than ever. Your parents' expectations stick on you just as much as your clothing in the humid Indiana air and every ounce of freedom you tasted at school has been ripped away, landing you back in church four days a week and cooped up at home the remainder of your free time. It’s enough to drive anyone to madness. So when a childhood youth group friend invites you to lunch the next day after Sunday Service you’re thrilled for an excuse to leave the house, hopeful for some sense of normalcy in this newly foreign town.

That hope dies the second you bound down the stairs on Monday afternoon.

A tired grumble comes from your father behind the wall of the newspaper he’s reading. “Ain’t no way you’re leaving the house like that.” You aren’t even really sure how he saw you from behind it, but stop in your tracks nonetheless. “Go upstairs and put on something more respectable.”

“I-I’m just going to meet up with Janie,” you stutter, pulling the frayed hem of your denim shorts down as far as they’ll go. The garment had been a gift from your roommate, one of her many hand-me-downs that she passed on to you when you tried to go to a party with her wearing a turtleneck and midi skirt. “I don’t need to be in church clothes.”

The corner of the paper folds down, one bushy eyebrow raising at your defiance. “Did I say church clothes?” You want to protest, you want to brush past and just run out the door, but the pout on your lips and slump in your posture earns you another stern warning. “I won’t tell you again, young lady. When you go anywhere outside of this home, you represent the church and our parish, so I don’t care if you’re going to the mall or the Met, you will be covering more skin than that.”

You respond with a stomp on the bottom step, much more childish than you’re known to be, but if he’s going to treat you like a child you may as well get to act like one. From the kitchen, your mother calls out to listen to your father without so much as a glance at either of you.

Back up the stairs, bedroom door slamming behind you, you shimmy out of the shorts and into a knee length, fluttery skirt and pantyhose. It’s soft contrasted against your hardened, angry features and billows behind you as you descend the stairs again, not even bothering to hear what either of them have to say before you slam yet another door behind you.

In your car you take out your anger on the radio, punching at the buttons and silently willing any station to come in, but the antenna has been broken on the God forsaken thing since you bought it, so you give up and opt for shoving the only tape you own into the cassette player. From crackling speakers Rich Mullins croons about how awesome God is, the words settling uncomfortably in your ears, and you slap the eject button just as quickly as you put the tape in. The rest of the drive is shrouded in silence except the engine rumbling under the hood and wind whipping in from open windows.

The drive is aimless. You know where you should be headed, but with your mood already soured the last thing you want to do is sit through shallow small talk and hang on the nostalgia of Church Camp memories. Janie is a sweet girl, though, and she doesn’t deserve to get stood up, so at the sight of a payphone you pull over and pray that she hasn’t left home yet.

“Hello, Peterson residence, this is Janie,” she answers, bubbly and polite as ever, on the third ring.

“Hey, Jane,” you say, voice tight and tired, and identify yourself.

“Well hi, stranger!” She says, south Georgia twang and sweetness still saturate her voice even after 12 years in Indiana. “I was just headin’ out to meet you!”

“That’s why I was ringing, actually. I think I might have to take a rain check.”

“Oh no! You feelin’ okay?”

You sigh into the phone, guilt already setting in at the worry in her voice. “Yeah, Janie, I’m fine. I just- the heat’s getting to me and I’m in a foul mood–” neither untrue. The telephone booth is steaming up from your humid breath, sweat beading along your hairline. “– and I don’t think I’d be very good company.”

Her hesitance is clear, but she relents. “Well, I doubt that, but… if you’re sure.”

Making quick work to end the phone call, you’re blessed by a light breeze when you step out of the booth. Feeling the heat trapped under your skirt, you roll the waistband twice to feel more of the breeze on the tacky skin behind your knees and weigh your options.

It’s hot, and you’re heated. The best option objectively is to head home and enjoy the air conditioning, or maybe take a dip in the pool, but the thought of facing your parents again without any time to calm the storm in your head is more unbearable than the sun beating down on your shoulders, so you get back into your car with a huff and decide to just drive.

Approaching the edge of town, right when you’re thinking about turning back, you come across a strip mall you can’t recall ever seeing. Surely it’s been here some time with its crumbling brickwork and missing shingles, but growing up you didn’t venture too far outside your neighborhood or that of your father’s church, so this side of town is unfamiliar to you.

Gravel crunches under your tires as you pull to a stop under a darkened streetlamp and look around. Nothing stands out too much as you wander the sidewalk storefronts. Nothing until Camelot Music.

Bright white glittering letters hang above the doorway boasting the store’s name, and the bulbs behind the ‘t’ flicker with age. The front door is propped open with a sizable rock, a heavy, thrumming bassline inviting you in to curiously peer at the shelves lined with colorful record sleeves and bright signage. At the very least you can get some new tapes for your car, then this excursion could be considered a success.

The song changes as you step into the store, an impressive, tinny guitar solo opening up the song. It’s good, not something you’ve heard before but you can’t help but nod your head along as you browse the shelves. You see artists your friends have tried to introduce you to and thumb across the covers, but none of them stand out. Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Culture CLub, they were all definitely better than the worship music you’re made to listen to at home, but none of them sat with you as well as the song that’s playing over the store’s sound system.

From the moment you enter his store, Eddie is captivated. Spine straightened and brow lifted with interest. The scent of your perfume came wafting in with the wind, something sweet and fruity and oh, so enticing.

He doesn’t jump into customer service mode just yet, instead choosing to observe, see what artists you approach. See if you’re sure of your direction before he comes on too strong.

Watching you wander through what he likes to call the ‘cookie cutter aisle,’ his eyes are drawn to the movement of your skirt, the hem brushing at the soft skin just above your knees, the tension in your calves when you tiptoe to read the titles on the top shelf, the anxious fiddling with the gold pendant on your neck, though he can’t see what it is with his distance.

He has to get closer.

“Looking for anything in particular?” A voice from behind startles you.

Instinctively, your hand goes to the crucifix on your neck, clutching it comfortingly as you jump and turn to face the sole employee of the store.

All signs point to danger with this man. Long, dark, unruly hair hangs in his face as he leans toward you, a hand on the wall beside your head and a smirk on his lips. Snug, ripped jeans and tee shirt with a devil on it cling to his frame, no sign of a uniform except for the name tag that reads ‘Eddie the Banished’ and he’s weighed down with silver. Countless heavy rings and chains adorn him, a stud through his eyebrow and a hoop in the opposite nostril. Ink stains most of the skin you can see. He looks like mischief personified, but he’s looking at you with the biggest, softest brown eyes and his expression softens when he notices your tension. You swear you can see his eyes fall to your chest, but when you smooth the cross back into your skin and drop your hand, those round eyes flick back up to yours.

“Oh, uh,” you stammer, then point toward the ceiling. “Yeah, actually. Who is this? I really like it.”

Shock paints his features, his brows shooting up with amusement and he laughs. “What kind of a rock do you live under?” Your shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug, your arms wrapping around your middle defensively. “It’s Guns N’ Roses, here,” he beckons you down the aisle, past a few genres, and stops in front of a sign marked Hard Rock. You follow his gaze as he scans the shelf before finding the tape in question, plucking it off of the rack and pressing it into your hands. “Appetite for Destruction, their debut album. Sweet Child O’ Mine is the song on now, but the whole record is pretty fuckin’ good.”

Eddie takes note of the way that you flinch at his swear, but still offer him a smile in thanks, and banks it in his memory alongside all of the other things about you that drew him in. The gold crucifix that rests against your collar. The bruise on your thigh that he shouldn’t be seeing, but he is, because your waistband is rolled and bunched up, shortening the skirt. The way your chest heaves rapidly, the way he can practically see your anxious pulse in the vein running up your neck. The tiny dart of your tongue as you wet your lips nervously.

You’re a total stranger, a ship passing through, and he wants to ruin you.

“Cool,” you mumble, looking away from his stare and at the shelf of tapes. “Do you have any other suggestions that are similar?”

A ring clad hand comes to rest on his chin as he thinks, a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. “I could come up with a ton for you if you give me some time to think, but off the top of my head...oh!” He snatches another title off of the wall and hands it over, “Mötley Crüe. I’d recommend anything of theirs but this is their best album to date.”

You look down at the cassette in hand, bold, red letters titling the album Shout at the Devil. You have half a mind to put that one back, already hearing your father’s claims of devil worship and sin swimming around in your head, but ultimately decide to just go for it. You nod to the man, Eddie, in appreciation and brush past him toward the counter.

He prays you don’t feel his eyes on your backside, or the skin exposed by a run in your stockings and the way the material cuts into your skin, making a little roll that he can’t stop thinking about sinking his teeth into. He stands back, distracted, until you reach the counter and turn his way again and he hurries to join you behind the register.

Register beeping as he types in your items, he asks, “So why the sudden interest in rock, hmm?” He prompts, bagging your items and pushing them toward you. You hand the cash over and he continues, “Wham! just not doing it for ya anymore?”

“I don’t…know who that is,” you admit sheepishly, savoring the laugh it draws from him, even if it was at your expense. “No, um, actually, hold on.” Digging in the bag, you open both tapes and peel the paper from inside the cover, shoving the crumpled cardboard across the counter. Eddie stares on, appalled that you would deface these albums so quickly. “Can you throw that away for me? My parents will lose their minds if they see that I’m listening to anything other than worship music. That’s…why I don’t know anything about music. I’m not technically allowed to listen to secular music.” The man before you pales as you speak, straightening his posture from the flirtatious lean he had on the counter to a cautious, respectable distance. He may be a horndog…some may even go so far as to call him a pervert, but he’s not about to put the moves on a fuckin’ teenager. As you continue ranting, however, his internal monologue heaves a sigh of relief. “It’s like – I’m 20 years old for Pete’s sake. I could be living across the God forsaken country if I wanted to, but because they’re paying for my college and I’m under their roof, it’s like they think they can control my every move like a child.”

As you complain, he studies your face. The rosy, heated hue to your cheeks, the heaving of your chest as you get more and more worked up, the way your hands flutter around your face as you rant. The smirk from before takes over his face again as he leans his elbows on the counter, and you feel yourself shrink under his scrutiny.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking the bag from the counter. “You didn’t need to know all of that. It’s just…frustrating.”

Christ, he wants to bite the pout that rests on your lips. Shaking the thought from his head, he says, “no worries. Listen, if you want more recommendations I’m happy to help. Music is kind of my thing.”

You study those big, brown eyes cautiously, and you’re met with an intriguing cocktail of promise, sincerity, and a little bit of a warning. It’s a surprise to both of you when you nod. “Yeah, okay, thanks.”

“Great,” he grins, waving as you back up toward the door. “Give those a listen and tell me what you think, I’ll have more for you next time you’re in.”

You spend the rest of the evening driving around Hawkins. Wind from the open windows whips your hair around your face, lip gloss staining the straw to your coke. Accompanied by the hum of cicadas, Axl Rose serenades you through fuzzy speakers, bringing goosebumps to your skin.

When you pull into your driveway, the sunset has painted sherbert tones across the sky, and you sit and wait for the track to end before stashing the tapes in your glove box and heading inside.

Not even the scolding from your mother for returning home after sundown can bring you down from the floaty mood you’re in.

On your next visit you’re eager to tell him your thoughts on both albums, and he presents you with Led Zeppelin IV. “An oldie but a goodie,” he claims, pressing the plastic into your hands and then guiding your fingers closed around it with his own.

You’re back every few days, always discarding the packaging as soon as you make your purchase, always strutting around the store in those damn skirts and knee socks, soft pink and off white tops and shiny lip gloss, innocence and purity and daring him to steal a glance at parts of you he shouldn’t. Eventually, Eddie starts inviting you to stay and listen in store, instead of spending all your money. It’s not a great business tactic, but he loves the idea of you coming around more often and staying longer, and he loves getting to see the blissed out look on your face when you’re enjoying his selection of the day even more. Besides, you always end up buying at least one new album for yourself every visit anyway. So now you spend your afternoons on the little wooden stool behind the Camelot Music counter, feet kicking back and forth beneath you, making small talk and getting a heavy metal education from Eddie Munson. In between albums he inquires about your upbringing, usually through shock that you don’t know 90% of the musicians he references. He teases you for your aversion to swearing, and promises that one of these days he’ll get you to say ‘fuck.’ You inquire on the meaning behind his tattoos. Sometimes there is one, sometimes the meaning is that he had extra money and thought it looked cool. For the most part, though, you just listen to music together and talk about the parts you liked and the parts you didn’t care so much for, passing smiles across the counter and between stacks of tapes.

On your sixth visit, he sends you on your way with his own personal collection of Black Sabbath tapes, his top 3 favorites, claiming that they mean more because they were borrowed. You’re about to walk out of the store when he stops you with a hand on your forearm.

“So, these guys are a little heavier than what I’ve been giving you, but I know you can handle it,” his eyes flick down to where you worry your lip between your teeth. “But they’re one of my favorites. They’re a huge inspiration for my band.”

“You’re in a band?” You ask, though you’re not at all surprised.

“Sure am,” he boasts, thumb thrust over his shoulder at a flier on the wall that reads Corroded Coffin. Washed in grayscale, an elevated version of the Eddie you’ve come to know stands at the front of the group in a fishnet top and leather pants, electric guitar slung low on his hips and dark makeup lining his eyes. Normally you’d laugh at the sight of someone you know dressed like that, but on him it works. “We’ve got a gig out at the Phoenix in Muncie this Saturday. If you end up liking Sabbath you should check us out.”

“Oh, I’m-” you shake your head, laughing at your own hesitation, “is it 21 plus?”

“Oh shit,” Eddie says, and you blink at the word. He shrugs, “don’t worry about it. They don’t usually card, and if they do I’ll tell them you’re with me.” The statement is accompanied by a wink and a squeeze to your shoulder that has you nodding dumbly.

“O-okay. I’ll be there.”

With a stare fixed firmly on your behind, shameless in his attraction now that he’s gotten to know you, Eddie calls out to your retreating figure, “countin’ on it, sweetheart!” It’s only when you get to your car that you realize he’s given you four tapes. The three Sabbath ones you knew about, but tucked into the front pocket of your purse is a fourth tape, a mixtape, the title of which has you blushing and shaking your head as you pop it in and watch the permanent marker scrawled “The Good Girl’s Guide to Secular Music” disappear into the tape deck.

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thatmunsonboy · 11 months

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Gorgeous man.

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thatmunsonboy · 1 year

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Necklaces i’m sure that look good on me:

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thatmunsonboy · 1 year

Text

redraw of a fruity four scooby gang drawing from last year <3

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thatmunsonboy · 1 year

Note

I was thinking for a part 2 to the modern day Eddie x reader sexting could be she goes and hangs out with Jackson and Eddie starts sexting her knowing she's over there 👀

thank you so for your request!!! im so mind blown by the love for this fic. i hope you enjoy this part two.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal fingering, P in V sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Best Friends to Lovers, Modern AU, Sexting, Swearing, Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Part One

Eddie has been avoiding you.

Well, at least you think he has. He hasn’t contacted you since he said goodbye the night he made you come so hard on your couch you had to lay against him to catch your breath.

You haven’t texted or called him either but that’s not the point. He initiated it. Shouldn’t he be the one to call you?

It’s been three days since that night, which isn’t super long but you and Eddie haven’t gone a day without talking to each other for god knows how long. It’s weird, him not being in your life. Not texting him something stupid or sending him a meme or TikTok you saw. You miss him. But you’re mad at him.

You’re not mad about what happened. You’re mad about how he’s acting (or not acting.). You didn’t expect him to suddenly be your boyfriend or anything, but he could at least fucking text you.

It’s Monday night when you decide to head to Benny's diner alone for dinner.

As you enter the mostly empty diner you see none other than Jackson, sitting alone at a booth lining the window. His head pops up as the bell rings on the door and he’s smiling as he recognises you.

You subtly sigh and smile at him.

“Hey.” He says.

You walk over to where he’s seated, “Hey, Jackson.”

He looks around you like he’s expecting to see someone.

“You eating alone?”

You nod.

“I’d expected Munson to be following behind you like a lost little puppy.” He laughs at his joke. You don’t laugh and he notices calming down his chuckle, “I was just kidding.” He tries to save face.

There’s an awkward silence before he clears his throat.

“How about you take a seat? I’ll buy you dinner.” He asks.

You look at the empty seat across from him and then back at his smiling face. You decide, fuck it, why not? You get a free meal out of it and some okay company.

“Suuure, but I want a milkshake too.” You bargain as you slide into the booth.

He laughs a little, his teeth blindingly white and in full view. “Sure thing, darlin’.”

He keeps smiling at you as you grab at the menu his fingers are fiddling with on the table. Your eyes wander over the page, trying to choose when he starts up that awkward conversation.

“So, Friday night was, like, good.” He says.

You snort, eyes still on the menu. “Good?”

“Hot.” He corrects, “like so hot.”

You finally look up at him after deciding what you want. “I’m glad.”

He laughs, “You’re hard to read.”

Raising a brow and tapping your fingers against the table you smirk slightly. “Am I?”

Jackson leans back further against the booth and runs his hands through his hair. “Yeah, you really are.”

“Alrighty! What can I get you two tonight?” A waitress interrupts your conversation.

You look up at her and see her name tag reads Joan. You and Jackson give your orders to Joan and she grabs your menu before walking back to the counter.

As Jackson asks how your weekend is going, headlights shine into the window as a car parks in front of the diner. You automatically turn to look at the light and as the headlights turn off you see a very familiar green van. Eddie. Of course, he’s here.

You turn back to Jackson and pretend you’re listening to some fishing story he’s telling as you hear the bells of the front door jingle as Eddie enters. You don’t look up at the sound and keep staring head-on at Jackson.

He says something that makes himself laugh and you don’t know quite what it was but you decide to laugh loud and reach a hand forward to touch his arm that’s resting on the tabletop. Eddie walks past just as you do and you can’t help but flick your eyes up at him. He looks at you and then down to where you’re touching Jackson. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s sitting in the booth right behind Jackson, staring directly at you.

Jackson doesn’t seem to notice that Eddie is here, too caught up in your touch and laugh.

“Yeah, so funny right!” He laughs with you.

“Totally.” You smile, staring just past his shoulder into the brown eyes that are staring directly into yours.

Eddie is smirking very subtly at you before he drops his eyes down to the menu.

The next twenty minutes seem to go by uneventfully. You flirt shamelessly with Jackson, but manage to avoid looking at Eddie the entire time. Your food comes out and after you both finish, you decide to split the promised milkshake.

“I gotta say, I’m more of a strawberry milkshake man myself.” Jackson says and you put two straws into the shake.

“People are biased towards vanilla because they think it’s basic, but it’s not! It’s original and iconic. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla.” You smile at him.

You drop a finger in the whipped cream and bring it up to your mouth, sucking the sweetness off your finger. Your eyes meet with Eddie’s over Jackson’s shoulder.

His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide taking up the chocolate brown you love so much. He’s rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you intently.

Your eyes flicker back to Jackson and he’s smiling at you softly, a sheepish look on his face. He leans down and takes a sip of the milkshake and groans as he does.

“Okay, you’re right. This is good.”

“See! Nothing wrong with vanilla.” You repeat before taking a sip yourself.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you fish it out as Jackson takes another sip.

Eddie 7:37pm: do that again.

Your eyes flicker up to Eddie and he’s staring at you. You stare back for a few seconds before you look down at your phone and type out a response.

You 7:37pm: Who’s this?

You can be petty.

He responds immediately.

Eddie 7:37pm: bet it doesn’t taste as sweet as you did.

Your cheeks warm at the thought of him licking your arousal off his own fingers and you keep your eyes down on your phone.

You can’t think of a witty reply. So you lock your phone and keep it face up in your lap, before turning back to Jackson.

“See any good movies lately?” You ask lamely, trying to keep the conversation flowing but too preoccupied by Eddie.

Your phone buzzes again and you ignore it.

“Movies?” Jackson chuckles, “Uh not really. I’ve been focusing on fixing up my truck, honestly.”

“Oh really?” You fake interest with a smile.

Your phone buzzes a second time and your eyes can’t help but flicker down.

Eddie 7:38pm: have you been thinking about me?

Eddie 7:39pm: thinking about my fingers fucking you?

You close your eyes to compose yourself as you look back up at Jackson. He’s too interested in talking about his truck to notice you’re not paying him any attention.

Looking down at your lap you read the flood of texts you just received.

Eddie 7:40pm: I’ve been thinking about you.

Eddie 7:40pm: thinking about how you taste.

Eddie 7:40pm: how you felt when you came on my fingers.

Eddie 7:40pm: I know you’d feel fucking unbelievable coming on my cock.

The last message has you squeezing your thighs together. The thought of Eddie’s cock inside you has been on your mind for the past three days. You’ve touched yourself thinking about it, imagining him taking you against your soft sheets, or in his trailer, van, anywhere really.

“What’re you think?” Jackson asks.

You look up fast and blink a few times.

“About what colour to paint my truck? Red or black?” He clarifies.

“Oh, uh, red?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking that too!” He keeps rambling about the truck tyres or engine, you’re not really sure.

Eddie 7:42pm: would you let me finish inside you? I know you’re on the pill.

Eddie 7:42pm: wanna fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you

That’s the nail in the coffin of your patience. You clear your throat and interrupt Jackson.

“Umm, this has been fun or whatever but I actually have to go.” You say standing up. Your eyes look over quickly at Eddie who is watching you as he eats a few fries.

“Oh? I thought we could maybe go back to mine or something.” He smiles up at you hopefully.

You frown apologetically, “Sorry. I’ll see you later?”

He nods, but his expression shows a tad bit of frustration like his night has now been wasted playing nice with you when he couldn’t get anything out of it.

You ignore him and turn to walk towards the bathroom. You pass the counter, and smile at Joan as you go, pushing open the bathroom door and turning into the ladies’ room.

As you enter the end cubicle, you pull out your phone and sit on the closed toilet, going to scroll through Eddie’s messages again. You read each one, feeling your skin warm and your stomach tighten in arousal.

You can’t believe him. After no contact for three days, this is what you get?

The door to the bathroom opens and shuts with a thud. You can hear heavy footsteps walking along the tiled floor, they get louder as they grow closer. You look underneath the cubicle door, seeing familiar dirty converse standing directly in front of it.

Knuckles rap against the wood in a rhythmic fashion.

“Y/N…” Eddie drags out your name.

You stay silent and watch his feet.

“Little pig! Little pig! Let me in.” He sings, a soft chuckle following it.

You stand up, your clothes rustling and echoing in the quiet bathroom. You step forward, reaching for the lock and turning it slowly. Pulling your hand back, the door opens with a creek, Eddie coming into view inch by inch.

He stands there, looking good enough to eat. He’s wearing his usual leather jacket over a black Judas Priest shirt. His black jeans are ripped at the knees.

He smiles brightly at you, creases forming around his mouth and his brown eyes narrowing.

You’re both quiet for a minute, staring at each other. You feel his eyes roaming your body, goosebumps rising on your skin under his gaze.

“Hey.” He says taking a step into the cubicle.

You give him a look of disbelief. After three days that’s all he’s got to say to you.

You push at his chest, “Asshole!”

He sways a little but stands tall.

You push at him again and he grabs at your wrists as they land on his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“You fucking just ghosted me!”

You struggle against his hold but give up after he shows no sign of letting go.

“I know.”

“Why?” You ask defeated.

He brings your hands up to his face and presses kisses on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.” He whispers against the skin, “I got scared, I don’t know, I just freaked out.”

“Why, though?”

He lowers your hands so you’re holding each other down near your waists.

“I thought maybe you didn’t want me that way.”

You scoff, “I literally orgasmed. I wanted it!”

“Yeah, I realise that now. I thought it through.”

“You’re still an asshole.” You smirk.

He grins back and begins slowly stepping forward, pushing you further back into the cubicle. He lets go of your hand to reach behind him and push the door closed, twisting the lock in place.

He stands in front of you and you take one step back, your thighs hitting the edge of the toilet.

“Maybe I can make it up to you?” He asks, titling his head slightly.

“Maybe.”

He crowds against you, grabbing at your waist and moving you against the wall. His face hovers above you, half an inch away, his deep chocolate eyes flickering over your face.

“Or maybe,” you start, “maybe I can catch up with Jackson.” It’s an empty threat but Eddie’s brows frown at the thought.

“No.” He says. His right hand comes up to grab at your chin, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip a little. “You’re mine.”

“Yours?” You whisper.

His thumb presses harder against your lip, pushing upwards and sliding into your mouth.

You drop your jaw, opening your mouth a little wider. Your tongue flattens out for him to glide his thumb along it.

“All mine.” He murmurs.

You suck on his thumb, pressing your tongue up against it and hollowing your cheeks.

“Fuck.” He sighs, eyes transfixed on your mouth.

Slowly, you draw your head back, pulling your mouth off him, the squelch of the suction breaking is loud in the space between you both.

He licks at his lips as he watches the spit glistening on his thumb.

“Did you like my texts?” He asks.

Your head drops back further to thud against the wall, your hair scratches against you as you nod slowly.

“What do you think, hmm?” His hand comes up to your hair line, pushing the strands back in soft strokes. “Would you let me come inside you?”

Your heart jumps at the question. Swallowing down the spit pooling in your mouth, you nod again.

“Gimme your words, baby.” He says.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You huff a little, “Yes, I want you to come inside me.”

His free hand splays against your stomach, inching down to the waistline of your jeans. His skilled fingers pop your button open and push down your zipper, the pads of his fingers landing on the soft cotton of your panties.

Slowly but surely, he works his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, trailing down the top of your cunt and pressing his middle finger in between your slit.

You gasp as his finger circles your clit.

He smiles at your intake of breath and slides another finger alongside the first, gliding them between your folds and lapping up your arousal.

He circles your entrance, before pushing two fingers in.

You squeak as he curls his fingers up, searching for the rough spot inside you that makes you clench around him. You moan out as he continues thrusting his fingers into you.

“Eddie.”

He leans his forehead against yours and keeps fingering you.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Don’t want your fingers.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek, “No?”

You shake your head.

“What do you want?”

His fingers come up to rub your clit some more and you cry out.

“I want...” you trail off as he continues to toy with you.

“Yes?” He asks with a smile, nosing at your cheekbone.

“I want your cock.”

He laughs and his warm breath hits your face.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He pulls his hand out from your underwear, his other hand coming down to your jeans and pushing them down your legs, along with your underwear. You toe off your shoes and slide your jeans and panties off, leaving them on the floor next to the toilet.

You reach forward and grab at Eddie’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing his pants and boxers down over cock. It springs free, hitting his black tee and leaving a spot of precum.

You go to grab at his cock but he grabs at your hand to stop you.

“Wait,” he breathes out, “I wanna…” he looks over your face and then reaches up to take it in his hands, “I wanna kiss you.”

He holds your face so softly in his calloused hands.

You realise, in both these times you’ve been together, you’ve never kissed each other. You’ve never had your lips pressed against his or your tongue in his mouth.

It was a line you both unknowable hadn’t tried to cross. Touching each other was one thing, but kissing felt more personal. Like it could break your friendship if it went wrong.

You look down at his pink lips, wanting nothing more than to touch them with your own.

“Kiss me then.” You whisper.

He takes no time rushing forward and pressing his lips on yours. You inhale against him, breathing him in.

His tongue licks into your mouth, massaging with yours. Your nose rubs against his cheek as you push further against him, wanting to get as close as possible.

Eddie’s hand comes down to grab your left leg, his arm coming up underneath it to hold it up. He pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down in between you. You both catch your breath and stare down as his other hand reaches for his cock and guides it towards you.

The head of his cock brushes against your folds, lapping your juices. Eddie’s head drops back and he groans out lowley.

“Jesus Christ.”

He lines up at your entrance and looks up at you quickly, watching your reaction as he slides into you. His arm holding your leg up tenses as your heat surrounds him.

Your mouth drops open and your eyes squeeze shut as he pushes all the way in. Your breathing gets heavier as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with yours.

Eddie leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling out slowly and pushing back in. He keeps a steady slow pace, his free hand holding your hip.

Your leg aches from the stretch of being held up but it’s all forgotten when he starts moving faster. The echo of skin slapping each other can be heard throughout the bathroom, accompanied by your heavy breathing.

He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your crotch, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips.

You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Eddie.”

You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release.

He smiles at you and presses kisses along your jawline.

A thud of a door can be heard in the distance and Eddie’s hips stop their movements, as he listens out for more noise.

The door to the ladies’ bathroom opens and closes and someone walks in and enters the cubicle next to yours. The side of Eddie’s face is pressed against the side of yours, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“Better keep quiet. Don’t wanna get caught, do ya, baby?” He whispers.

His fingers start playing with your clit again, but his hips stay still, keeping his cock deep inside you.

You bite your lip to prevent a moan as he keeps toying relentlessly with your swollen nub.

You can hear the rustling in the next stall and the toilet flushes. The person very slowly makes their way out to wash their hands and it feels like forever until they finally leave the bathroom.

You release a loud breath as the door shuts.

“Oh my god.”

Eddie laughs and brings a hand up to hold your hip as he starts fucking back into you.

He continues pounding into you, his lips pressing all over your face and then landing on your lips. He licks filthily into your mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

He pulls back slightly, breathing against your mouth. His hips show no sign of slowing down as his hand comes back down to your clit.

“Gonna fill you up.” He says.

You nod at his statement, your noses brushing each other. “I want it.”

His fingers on your clit start rubbing fast and furious, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm.

Your walls tighten around him and he hisses.

The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over. You moan out into his mouth and he breathes it in.

“Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming.” You cry.

His hips fuck you through your orgasm and he comes undone just after you.

His come paints your insides, filling you to the brim. He moans out your name, breathing heavy against you. He keeps moving slowly inside you, milking himself dry before slumping against you, his face hiding in your neck.

Your hand comes up to cup his head as you both try to catch your breath.

He gently pulls out of you and you feel his come dripping out of your hole. You grimace at the loss.

He lets down your leg, very slowly and you feel the soreness in your thigh radiate down your leg.

You lean against the wall and watch as he pulls his jeans up. He reaches down and grabs your jeans and panties, handing them to you.

As you slide your pants back on he kisses at your neck and face and you laugh as you awkwardly hop into your clothes.

“Eddie.” You giggle.

He laughs too and holds your hips. He tilts his head as he looks down at you and reaches one of his hands up to push your hair from your face.

“You’re beautiful.” He says it almost accidentally, like he can’t keep the words from spilling out.

You smile up at him. “So are you.”

That makes him smile bright, his eyes creasing at the edges.

You stand there with no shoes on in Benny’s diner’s bathroom and stare up at your best friend.

“Back to yours?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” He says before he kisses your forehead.

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thatmunsonboy · 1 year

Note

Halloween smut with Scream Eddie nothing else matters

life’s no fun without a good scare

ghostface/scream!Eddie x Reader

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: Horror themes, knife play, smut, thigh fucking, P in V sex, unprotected sex, mentions of CNC, mask stays on during sex, thick thighs save lives, dom/sub undertones.

more scream fics!

The final trick-or-treater of the night leaves with the last bit of your candy. A sweet little ballerina who did a pirouette on your front porch just for you.

Your feet are hurting from being on them all night, so you decide to run a bath. As the water reaches the top of the tub, you strip your shirt and pants. As you reach for your bra clasps the doorbell rings. You sigh, must be a random trick-or-treater, you hate to have to tell them you’ve got no candy left.

You turn the tap off on the bath and grab your robe, covering your panties and bra, and wrapping it tightly around your body. You walk out of your bathroom towards the front door and pass the TV in the living room that is playing the third horror movie of the night. You catch a glimpse of Michael Myers just as you reach the front door.

You open it to reveal… no one.

There’s no one there. You take a few steps out and look around your street to see it completely empty. Hawkins is eerie at night, especially with the added Halloween decorations covering people’s front lawns. The wind howls in the distance and you take one final look before turning to walk back inside.

Just as you turn around something jumps at your feet. You gasp and bounce back, looking down to find eyes staring at you in the dark. You squint a little and soon see a black cat. More specifically your neighbour's cat. Bending down, you reach out a hand and scratch his soft head.

“You scared me, honey.” You coo. He begins walking to the opposite end of your porch and you walk after him. He jumps up onto the railing and you give him one final pat before he jumps off and back towards his house. As you watch him you hear the creak of the porch steps, you turn around to see who it is and again, no one is there.

You shake your head and sigh.

“Stupid scary movies.” You mutter as you make your way back inside.

You make sure to triple-check the lock before walking back to your bathroom. As you enter the dark hallway you see something run from one bedroom across to another. You stop still in your tracks.

“Hello?” You call out, “Is someone there?”

When no one answers you decide that you just imagined it. You carefully go to walk past the bedrooms to the bathroom and as you do something crowds against you pushing you up against a wall.

You scream as your back hits the wall hard and you feel the cool steel of a knife press up against your throat.

You look up through thick lashes and see a white mask staring back at you. A mask that you’re all too familiar with.

“Are you scared?” a deep voice asks. It almost makes you chuckle, hearing Eddie trying to hide his normal voice.

“What are you gonna do, slit my throat?”

A warm chuckle comes from the mask and he pulls the knife away a little to trace the tip along your jugular.

“Nah, you should stand behind someone when you cut their throat. Too messy otherwise, you’ll get blood alllllll over yourself.”

You lick over your bottom lip and flutter your lashes as you look at the ghost face.

“Well, what are you gonna do to me?”

Eddie’s free hand, that’s covered in a black leather glove, comes out and grabs at the rope holding your robe together. He tugs on it till it comes undone and your robe falls open, revealing your bra and panties.

“Hmmm,” he says, the knife comes to the collar of the robe and pushes it over your shoulder, “Dunno, haven’t decided yet.” The robe drops off both your arms and lands on the floor around your feet, leaving you in just your underwear.

You stand there leaning against the wall while he towers over you in his disguise. Slowly, you sidestep towards the open door to your right and Eddie’s mask follows you as you go.

You backstep into the room, and Eddie starts following you. You stand between your bed and mirror vanity, waiting for him to make the next move.

He walks in front of you, and you can see yourself from the mirror in the corner of your eye. His knife comes up and traces between the valley of your breasts, over your chest and collarbone before it slides under the strap of your bra. You look down and watch as the knife turns so the sharp side faces up and he pulls the knife toward him, cutting the strap cleanly.

A small gasp escapes your lips as the cup falls and exposes your breast. The cool air hits your nipple and it starts to harden.

He quickly does the same to the other side looking down through his mask at both your round tits sitting perfectly in front of him.

Reaching over his shoulder, you hear the sound of velcro pulling apart and the black gown he’s wearing slips down his shoulders and he lets it drop to the ground. It reveals a faded black band tee with the sleeves cut off, tucked into his classic black ripped jeans. His cut-off sleeves reveal his tattoos that scatter his arms, leaving no doubt in your mind that it’s Eddie behind the mask.

“Face the mirror.” He demands.

You do as he says and turn your body until you’re facing the mirror directly. Eddie takes a few steps until he’s standing behind you, his masked face in view over your shoulder.

You take in the view; you standing there with your tits out and in just your panties, your bra a mangled mess still wrapped around your torso. Eddie fully clothed and standing behind you with his mask on and hair peeking out from the bottom. Your heart races at the image and you can’t stop your chest from heaving.

Eddie’s leather-cladded hands land on your waist and you can’t help but jump a little at the coolness.

He begins pushing you forward, inch by inch until your thighs are flush with the wood of your vanity desk.

His right-hand splays over your abdomen and your tummy dips at the contact. Slowly he trails it down until his thick leather fingers are pressed over your cotton panties. He pushes against your slit over the material and you feel the warm wetness that has seeped into your underwear press back against you.

He rubs small soft circles over your clit, making you moan breathlessly and lean back against him. You feel the soft line of his stomach press against your back and his crotch press against the top of your ass.

“Look at you,” He whispers gruffly into your ear, his masked face pressed to the side of your head, “You’ll let anyone fuck you, won’t you? Anyone could just walk into your house and bend you over and you’d be a moaning whore for it.”

At that, he slaps your clothed cunt and you moan out like the whore he said you were.

He chuckles at the sound and slides both his hands up to your breasts grabbing at them harshly. He squeezes at the fat before tweaking and flicking at your nipples, shocks of pleasure shoot through you as he continues to abuse them.

You’ve absolutely drenched your underwear. If Eddie didn’t have gloves on to feel it himself, you know he would taunt you for how dripping wet you are for him like this.

Without warning, Eddie grabs at the back of your head with one hand and pushes you forward so you’re bending over the vanity with your face inches from the mirror. You look at the way your breasts hang and sway, nipples ravished and skin now bleeding back to colour from being squeezed.

Eddie releases your hair and brings his hands down to undo his belt and jeans. He pulls himself out and gives his cock a few lazy tugs, you wonder what it feels like with his gloves on.

One of his hands comes to land on your throat, making you have to stare right at the scene otherwise you’ll choke against his grip.

He releases his cock and tugs your panties down to just below your ass before bringing his hand back and guiding himself between your legs. His tip slides through your slick folds and he laughs loudly at how soaked you are.

“You’re practically dripping, sweetheart. Surprised there isn’t a puddle on the floor.”

You look at his mask and try to look into the eyes to make eye contact, you push back against his dick, letting it trace up your slit and hit your clit.

“Please.” You beg.

“Please she says,” He mocks, “I could do anything I fucking wanted to you and you wouldn’t be able to do shit.”

Your hole clenches at the thought of Eddie being so in control of the situation, at you being at his absolute mercy. You whimper thinking about it.

“Y’know what?” He says, pulling at your throat so you have to hold yourself up a little higher to be able to breathe, “You need to earn my cock.”

You whine and pout your lips at him in the mirror.

He smacks your ass sharply at the protest causing you to jump forward a little and bump your vanity. Bottles of perfume and lotion fall over but you couldn’t care less.

Eddie’s foot comes up and pushes down your panties till they're at your ankles. He lets go of your throat and your hands quickly come forward to stop yourself face-planting into the mirror.

With his now free hands he takes off both his gloves and you're disappointed to see none of his rings adorning his stubby thick fingers. He reaches forward to a lotion bottle that’s laying on its side and grabs at it. You watch as he pumps a generous amount onto his palm. Your eyes follow his hands in the mirror, they disappear behind you to his cock and you hear the slick sound of him rubbing some of the lotion on it. You gasp, startled, as he bends down slightly and his slippery hand reaches between you and rubs over your inner thigh before doing the same to the other side, coating your skin in the cool lotion.

He straightens up and grabs at his cock, tapping it on your ass a little to get your attention.

You look back up at his masked face.

“I’m gonna fuck your thighs,” His husky voice says, “and if you’ve earned it, I’ll fuck that sweet hole, yeah?”

You bite at your lip and nod slightly, agreeing to his terms.

He stares at you for a second before guiding his cock between your thighs. As you feel his cock head slide against your inner thigh, you instinctively squeeze your legs together for him to create some friction.

His dick slides between the fat of your thighs slowly, his pelvis hitting your ass. He lets out little groans as he speeds up and you tighten your thighs as much as you can, your knees knocking together.

“Fucking hell,” Eddie says.

The hands-on your hips are gripping tight, pulling you with him as he fucks his hips forward.

He stands a little straighter and the line of his cock slides along your slit making you moan and drop your head between your shoulders.

“Think you deserve it yet, sweetheart?” He asks.

The tip of his cock hits your clit and you feel a shiver run through you. “Please.” You whimper.

“What was that?”

You lift your head and look at his masked face in the mirror, “Please.” You say louder.

“So polite.”

He slaps a hand down against your ass and pulls out fully, straightening up to his full height. His foot toes between your calves and push you to stand your legs apart further.

His hand comes to your hair and grabs at it, using it to pull you upright. You feel the burn on your scalp and hit the hard line of his body as you stand up. His masked face hides into your neck just below your ear and you feel his cock trapped between your cheeks.

“Look at yourself.” He whispers.

Your eyes lock with yourself in the mirror and you take in your form.

As you watch yourself you feel his hand grab at his cock and he slides down your crack until he’s pushing at the entrance of your cunt.

His knees bend a little to get the angle and he drops his head against your shoulder to look down at his cock disappearing.

“Jesus.” He whispers to himself.

He fully pushes into you and your mouth drops open at the pressure and the slight burn of being opened up by his cock. He bottoms out and looks back up at you from over your shoulder.

You look at his masked face and nod slowly, silently begging for him to move.

He laughs a little and does short, small thrusts into you.

You drop your head back a bit on his shoulder, still looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your bra hangs around your midsection and your tits bounce slightly as his hips fuck into you a little harder. His hand not in your hair grips at your love handle and pulls you into him.

He pulls all the way out and pounds up into you, hitting you deep and making you yell out loud.

“Oh fuck!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut.

Eddie laughs again and his hand in your hair tugs a little. “Eyes open.” He instructs.

You open your eyes and instantly land on the jiggle of your body as he fucks his cock into your pussy hard and fast.

The hand on your hip inches around to your belly and splays over it, trailing down until he’s at the top of your slit near your clit. His thick finger slides between your slit and rubs over your wet nub. You sob out at the pleasure.

The heat in your core grows and you feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

The sound of skin hitting skin and the wet squelch of him fucking into your cunt echoes around the room. You hear his heavy breaths from behind his mask and look at him through the mirror.

“Where do you want my load, baby?” He asks.

You bite your lip and can barely get the words out as his fingers on your clit begin moving faster.

“My mouth.”

Eddie groans at your response. “Fuck yes.”

You feel your orgasm begin to spill over as he hits your cervix in time with the rubbing of your clit.

“Oh god, oh god.” You yell as your orgasm overcomes you and you squeeze around his cock.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” He plays with your clit a little more to milk your orgasm from you as he slows his thrusts to a stop.

Eddie pulls out of you as you catch your breath and you dazedly turn around and take a step to the side to drop to your knees in front of him.

You look up at him as he stares down at your masked face, the scary disguise only making your pussy flutter a little bit more.

He jacks himself off as you open your mouth and stick out your tongue.

“Fuck you’re a goddamn dream.” He says.

He fucks his fist faster and soon he lets out a muffled groan followed by a stream of hot come that hits your tongue and chin.

His head is still dropped down looking at you as he drops his cock and catches his breath.

You swallow the load that lands on your tongue and your hand comes up and your thumb scoops up the rest that landed on your chin before you suck it clean.

You stand up slowly and come face to face with the mask. You can only guess how fucked out your face looks right now. You reach up and grab at his mask and he lets you pull it off his head.

His hair flies up with it and sticks everywhere as you drop the mask to your vanity desk.

He’s smiling dazed as he looks down at you, his face flushed and sweaty.

“Hi.” He says.

You smile and lean up on your tippy toes, a hair away from his lips, “Hi.”

Eddie leans forward and presses a sweet to your lip before pushing his tongue against you to lick into your mouth and taste himself on your tongue.

“Mmmmmm.” He moans into you before he pulls away.

His hands are holding your face and pushing your hair back as he stares into your eyes.

“Happy Halloween.” He says.

You laugh through your nose and roll your eyes, “Happy Halloween.”

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