G'morning sweetheart.
Oh to have a long slow sloppy tonguing makeout session with eddie *sighs*
eddie munson x reader (fem) ⟡ 18+ mdni !!
dirty makeout, frottage, premature ejaculation in boxers, implied f. oral ;
Humping Eddie on his uncle’s couch, your arms curled around his neck as he suckles your tongue, groping your breast in his ringed hand. You press your faces deeper together, all clicking teeth and gnashing lips while his hand slithers down to cup your sex. It’s dirty, it’s needy, everything about him driving you wild. Your hands gather fistfuls of his frizzled curls, making him moan in your mouth, his stubble tickling your sticky lips. All the while, his cock grows bigger and bigger under your pulsing crotch, straining hard in his dirty jeans.
“Take it off,” he purrs, lifting your blouse. “Take it all off.”
You happily oblige, stripping yourself naked until your pretty pussy lips soak his denim, and bite his lip with increasing need. “Your turn,” you hear yourself say, eyes fully darkened with lust, tearing the clothes apart from his skin until there’s nothing left but those checkered boxers.
“Gonna cum, angel,” Eddie strains against his teeth, lapping his pierced tongue in your hungry mouth to claim you as his. You rock harder and faster onto his cock, rubbing the wet fabric over the tip of his dick, and watch him clutch your shoulder for purchase. He throbs freely into his boxers, painting the insides with his cum, and continues to fuck the sticky fabric onto your cunt.
He breathes hard, kissing you one last time before sinking down on his knees. “Your turn.”
So, yeah… Eddie cums from making out :) :)
“Hey, sweet girl, what’s—?” Eddie’s brow furrows with concern when he sees the look on your face; drawn, tired, drained. You just stepped through the door from work and it had been quite the day - yelled at, belittled by customers and all of the above. Usually, days like this washed off your back, but you had reached your breaking point a long time ago and this was the straw that finally broke you.
The metal head is up in an instant, wrapping you up in his embrace. He coos softly into your hair, nuzzling the top of your head. You clutch onto him, eyes welling, threatening to spill over. “Don’t worry your precious little head about anything, babe. I’ve got you.”
Can't hurt me
part II [coming soon]
Pairing: Neighbor!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're the one that takes care of Bucky after missions, only this time he asks for a different kind of relief.
Sexual themes
idkidk just some more ramblings before I’m off to read for the rest of the night (tw: angst, anxiety)
He knows when you keep busy like this that something is wrong. Preoccupying yourself with whatever task your hands latch onto until you wear yourself out. Something that can go on for days, even with a smile on your face.
But, your eyes.
He sees a sadness there that breaks his heart. A sadness you don’t want to burden him with because you’re not even sure of the cause.
Eddie watches as you flit around the kitchen from his seat at the island, day two of baking your little heart out. Something you love doing, making treats that make others happy. Baked goods that make you happy seeing what you can create with your hands.
But, he knows.
He knows with every quiet sigh you let out, every flicker of sadness you let wash over your face you think he doesn’t notice.
You’re talking a mile a minute about what you have left to do and how long it’s going to take, but it’ll be worth it.
And so he sits there with you, watching as you make shapes out of sugar cookie dough and ramble on about seemingly nothing.
“Why don’t you let me help you, sweetheart?”
His words so soft as if he’s afraid of startling you. Your head lifts, eyes taking in the warmth of his.
“Think I can manage some dough and cookie cutters while you make the next batch?”
Take my hand, sweetheart.
“Yeah, okay.”
You return his lopsided smile with one of your own, sending his heart racing.
And you both worked together, as a team. Eddie helping you in any way he could.
It was enough to know he was there.
So many little moments
Soft smiles shared from across the room as Eddie sits with Robin and Steve talking about the next gig he has coming up. His eyes catch yours as Robin turns to Steve, sitting with an elbow on his knee and his chin resting in the palm of his hand. Twinkling eyes sending a quick wink your way before jumping back into the conversation.
Fingers brushing as Eddie passes you a cup of coffee, fixed just the way you like it, as you give his hand a quick tap tap before he’s on his way back toward the kitchen. His woodsy scent filling your senses as he passes by, sending you yearning.
Sinking into your spot on the couch as you sip your drink, listening to another one of his stories— full of moving hands, impersonations and that smile showing off his dimpled cheek. Your eyes full of affection, zoning in on Eddie and his raspy voice as it blankets you in a comforting warmth.
And when he finally, finally, sits beside you. Equipped with two cookies, one already in his mouth, the other held out toward you. Your favorite. You take the treat from his hand as your other hand reaches out to wipe your thumb along the corner of his mouth, getting rid of some crumbs left behind.
Whispered words and amusement filling his eyes as he leans toward you, eyes focused on your mouth, “you’re gonna give us away, sweetheart.”
You shyly smile at his words, biting into your cookie, looking around to see no one paying a bit of attention to your corner of the room.
For now you’re safe in your little bubble made for two. Something so new after years of being labeled as just friends. Something that’s just yours, without the fuss of everyone knowing just yet.
Soon
y'all are just out here with your ghostface!eddie fics making me wonder stuff about myself...@reysorigins and @reidsbtch you know what you did. cw: knife play talk. 1K 18+ MDNI
You were staring at Eddie.
Not exactly out of the ordinary, you probably stared at him about as often as you breathed. But this time it wasn’t his face or his body that had you mesmerized, it was what he was holding.
The knife wasn’t anything remarkable, it was just a nice-sized one you’d found with him a few years back at a flea market. It was actually a somewhat prestigious brand, as you discovered from a quick search of the name etched into the blade. It was tarnished and dull, but the handle was solid and it had a decent weight to it, so you had bought it at a fraction of its retail price.
It quickly became one of Eddie’s favorites after you polished it up and gave it a nice sharpening, so you’d seen him use it plenty of times before. But this time…this time, for whatever reason, it was really doing something to you. Something about his hand wrapped around the handle, tendons in his forearm flexing as he sliced through vegetables with ease.
22 August, 1894
My love,
I hail from the toughest place you can imagine.
I want to be gentle, I want to die gently. Though it seems as life gets harder, I have to get harder to match.
I hope you will not have to know, but fear you already might, the violence it takes to become gentle once more. You are the gentleness that comes not from the absence of it, but from it in sheer abundance. I wish one day to know this kind of sweetness though I have not remained kind despite my anger. I have not removed my teeth nor refrained from bearing my claws. I hope you will forgive me not be gentle with me.
I did not know my father well, but I know I wear his anger. It feels both familiar and terrifying. Sometimes I fear myself, for my body is both familiar and terrifying in that same sentiment.
I can feel the red hot terror seep through my veins in time with anger, though every day that terror grows to be replaced with nothingness. The ease in which I hurt and the ease in which I kill are cousins in a terrible, perverse family.
I know that someday I will die. And I know that I will die a violent death. I know that if you are able to love me that long, you will have to witness it.
And I vow that when death finally does decide to take my hand, that I will be holding you with the other.
If you will have me,
Steve Harrington
This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read, tears are running down my face
I saw this tweet, and it just got me thinking about rockstar!eddie being a dad and having his little one rushing on stage to see him.
Also, I'm not great with making gifs still, so ignore the terrible quality.
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off AU w/ Steddie x Reader. 🫶🏼
How are the Eddie’s reacting to their girl getting a tattoo? And what do you think each one would get?
i honestly don't think any of them would act negatively lol. i think they'd all be like "oh cool" and maybe more excited depending on the tattoo, like if it was for them or something.
i remember we kinda talked about how sweet girl definitely has nipple piercings, and it shocked the fuck out of eddie the first time he saw them lol. i think along with that we said she'd have like a little arrowed heart with his initial on the inside on her bikini line.
and nb!reader has one for her girls. a bouquet, with each of their flowers in them but it would be hidden. i think she'd have eddie's name tattoed on her ring finger, probably his signature.
and i think modern!eddie's mean girl would have a tramp stamp idk. like i think she'd have one and eddie fucking loves it.
eddie who's cynical and grumpy only because he hasn't had proper aftercare. most people just roll over or leave when they're done and those that do stay to cuddle, it's Eddie holding them and never the other way around. He doesn't want to admit that it makes him feel dissatisfied afterwards, like the sex wasn't even worth it, because he got laid, that's the point, why complain? But there's just something... missing (and I figure aftercare wasn't as talked about in the 80s so he isn't really too sure what that something is)
Until a night with reader where they have absolutely mind-blowing sex, parting with heavy breaths and as Eddie's heart rate starts to slow back down to normal again, he's waiting for reader to grab their clothes, roll over on their side, something that breaks the connection and makes his heart drop. But they don't, reaching out a weak hand (because they're sluggish waiting for their soul to return to their body) to rub his arm. A gentle back and forth, which feels nice, but Eddie's suspicious. What is this, why are they doing it, and why does it feel good?
And then, "Can I play with your hair?" (from the muse prompt lol) and he's agreeing with a shrug and when reader starts to card their fingers through his curls and massage his scalp, Eddie melts. It's like a whole brain recalibration. His icy heart getting thawed out just because someone made sure to take care of him too. And if reader wakes up earlier in the morning just to ask how he likes his eggs? Eddie's already decided that he's gotta lock them down.
+18 mdni
cw: p in v sex, cockwarming
Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
tw: anxiety
Another night where your thoughts are racing. Filled with nothing of importance but it doesn’t stop the buzzing in your ears or what feels like a bit of tingling under your skin.
Not wanting to wake Eddie, who lays facing you while snoring away, with your tossing and turning, you go downstairs. Taking your pillow with you, hoping a change of scenery might help.
You pace the kitchen for a bit, sipping on a glass of iced water, trying to maybe shock the feeling out of your system. You sit on the couch with the tv turned on low, playing whatever late night show is on at that hour, and maybe it helps a little bit.
You’re resigned to sleeping downstairs for the night, with the muffled sounds of people talking as your soundtrack, until you hear footsteps above you.
Eddie slowly makes his way down the stairs with the comforter from your shared bed dragging behind him. A fist rubs his eye a bit as he takes in your form resting on the couch with the other.
He sits next to you, settling in as if he plans to stay a while.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re sleeping down here tonight, right?”
You feel the tears start building up again, ready to fall because how did you l get so lucky?
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
It’s what he doesn’t say that hits you harder, sending silent tears down your face as he tucks the comforter over you both before placing a gentle kiss to your eyelid.
I want to
Eddie pressing a kiss to your forehead leaving you boneless and panting for air on the bed as he puts some boxers on. The elastic band low on his hips as he walks out of the room making his famous post sex snack. Which really is just quesadillas and some easy mac. He walks back into your bedroom with a plate in his hand jumping into bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses.
“I fucked you that good?” He grins as you groan, too tired to speak.
“Alright, alright” he chuckles, lying next to you as you tuck into his side. He places his plate on his stomach, occasionally feeding you while carding his fingers through his hair.
Naked cuddling with older Eddie (no smut)
The floor creaks beneath your feet as you make your way down the dimly lit hallway in search of your boyfriend. It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon, rainy, gray and cold outside. You’d just finished your satisfying lunch - leftovers from last night’s tortilla soup, made by none other than your loving man. The only plans you had for the rest of afternoon were to get right back into bed and relax.
There was just one thing you were missing.
“Eds?” You call out, tapping at the door outside the office/guest bedroom.
He sits at the small desk, glasses perched on his nose as he looks up from his work to greet his sweet girl.
“Hi gorgeous,” he beams up at you, “whatcha up to?” He asks, clicking away on his computer.