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stevethehairington · 1 year

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Steve loves Eddie's tummy.

It is one of the absolute best parts of Eddie — the softness of his hips, the little pudge of his belly, the squish of his abdomen. It's Steve's favorite place to nuzzle into, to kiss, to touch, to bite.

Most evenings end with the two of them curled together on the couch, watching whatever movie or television show catches their interest that night. They usually start out side by side on the cushions, but over the course of that first hour they slowly but surely shift around so that Steve ends up with his head in Eddie's lap. Eddie's fingers always find a home in Steve's hair, absentmindedly carding through the soft strands.

It's cozy, it's comfortable, and at some point, Steve will sigh softly and turn to bury his face into Eddie's stomach. Whatever's on tv becomes nothing more than background noise as he rubs his cheek against Eddie's tummy, as he nuzzles into the softness, arms loosely wound around Eddie's waist to hold him there. He'll leave a sweet kiss over Eddie's t-shirt, then squish his nose against his belly button and just lie there, face pressed into Eddie's stomach, just breathing.

Just enjoying the closeness.

Eddie will laugh softly and tell Steve that he's missing the movie, and Steve will just shake his head briefly and mumble back that he doesn't care. (It makes Eddie laugh again and squirm a little, because Steve's so close that the movement of his head, of his mouth — it tickles a little.)

But Eddie won't question it again, will just let Steve nuzzle against him and continue to pet his hair until he eventually falls asleep like that.

Steve also loves to shower Eddie's tummy with all the attention when they're in the bedroom (or wherever they make it to before they get too carried away) and are getting hot and heavy.

He loves to press Eddie back into the mattress, bare chested and breathing harder already. Steve will kiss him deeply, once, twice, three times, before he starts his descent. It starts with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, to the scar along his cheek, to the sharp of his jaw. Then Steve will press soft, sweet kisses to the hollow of Eddie's throat, the edge of his collar, one over his heart and another over the scar tissue where his left nipple would be. He'll trail those kisses down Eddie's ribcage, taking his time with it, showing each patch of scarred skin the love and attention it deserves. He'll leave a kiss right above his belly button, will sometimes dip his tongue in if he wants to make Eddie laugh.

And when he finally makes it to the soft pouch of Eddie's tummy, he'll kiss it. Gently, affectionately, tenderly. And then — he'll bare his teeth and he'll bite. Nothing too hard (unless Eddie asks for it), but he'll sink his teeth into the pudge, he'll nibble at the softness, he'll start to suck bruises into the skin until Eddie's squirming below him and straining in his boxers. Sometimes Steve will tease a little more, will kiss the parts of his tummy that are close to the waistband, his nose or cheek brushing over where Eddie wants him to touch the most. Other times he'll show Eddie some mercy, will leave one last kiss to his stomach before turning his attention even lower.

But he never forgets to show Eddie just how sexy he finds his tummy.

The touching isn't always sexual, though. There's something comforting to Steve about just touching for the sake of touch. And Eddie's tummy is one of his favorite places to do just that. He'll take any and every opportunity he gets to get his hands all over the softness of his stomach.

When Eddie's in the kitchen, standing at the stove to cook their breakfast Steve will sleepily trudge up to him and drape himself over his back. He'll tuck his chin over Eddie's shoulder, and he'll curl his arms around Eddie's middle, hugging onto him. Steve's hands will sneak their way beneath the hem of Eddie's shirt (or, his shirt, because Eddie has a habit of stealing Steve's clothes, especially in the mornings), and he'll just press the flat of his whole palm to Eddie's belly. Just to cover the warm skin. Just to touch.

Or whenever they're in a crowded room together — whether it be the bustling kitchen of the Hopper-Byers clan on Thanksgiving, or the middle of the thriving dancefloor of their favorite club in Indy, or squished together in the audience at a show, Steve will always find a way to touch Eddie there.

He'll hold onto Eddie's hips, curling his fingers around the love handles. Using his touch to shift Eddie out of the way when Mike barrels through with the kitchen without warning, hoisting the pie above his head. Staking his claim with his grip and the reassuring thumb he sweeps across the soft skin, dipping beneath the waistband of Eddie's jeans when he's feeling cheeky as a promise for more later. Squeezing gently when the crowd surges and jostles them both to say "hey, it's just me, I'm right here".

Steve just loves Eddie's lil tum, and he'll do anything and everything in his power to show him that. To shower him and his soft stomach with all the love in the world.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munsons soft tummy my beloved <3 #(LOL that tag autopopulated but its RIGHT)#anyways steve loves eddies lil tum and SO DO I!!!#and also this all gets uno reversed right back at steve!!! bc after hs and after the UD stuff ends he can finally relax & finally not WORRY #and so he gets softer. squishier. and eddie LOVES it on steve just as much as steve loves it on him #they are both Tummy Guys #they are tummy4tummy #just let steve and eddie be soft and squishy and in love!!!

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strangersmunsons · 5 months

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you're not feeling your best. Eddie gives you some much needed comfort. eddie munson x fem!reader, ~800 words

“Hey, Eddie?”

Your soft voice breaks the comfortable silence hanging over the bedroom, where you and Eddie have been curled up in each other’s arms since you finished making love some time ago.

“What’s up, baby?” He strokes a calloused hand up and down your back, tracing gentle patterns into the skin with his fingers in a way that makes you shiver. You press your body even closer to his.

He smells musky with sweat and drugstore cologne, and the faint whiff of tobacco that lingers from his post-sex cigarette. He tilts his head down to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder, and then another, and then another.

You hesitate, unsure if you want to break this spell of gentleness by voicing your insecurities. But then Eddie traces the furrow between your brows with a delicate finger, smoothing out the small crinkle. His face is expectant. Waiting.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He gives you a dopey half-smile, the really sleepy one that you love the most. “You just did, didn’t you?”

You try to grin back, but it comes out more like a grimace.

His smile fades, face lining with concern as he takes in your expression. You've apparently hidden your unease from him well tonight; he doesn't like it. He brings a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Of course you can,” he says soothingly, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

You sigh at his touch. “Don’t laugh,” you whisper, throat tightening.

“I would never, sweetheart,” he whispers back.

You stare up at him, eyes welling with tears. You shift uncomfortably in his arms, overwhelmed by the urge to suddenly run from the room.

“Hey.” Eddie gently pats your cheek, growing alarmed at how upset you look, but nonetheless staying calm for your sake. “Talk to me, angel.” He sits upright in bed, pulling you with him, so your tangled limbs are all gathered into his lap. He rocks you ever so slightly side to side, and curls one hand around the back of your neck so he can bring your forehead to his. “What’s got you all worked up?”

You don't want to tell him anymore, but you’re unable to hide from him like this. Your lip quivers uncontrollably. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty?” The words are wispy, barely there.

You might as well have taken a knife to Eddie’s heart. Shock flickers across his face before sinking into unbelievable sadness. He crushes you to him. “Of course I do. I think you’re so pretty, baby. I think you’re beautiful.” The words become muffled as he buries his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Most beautiful girl in the world.”

That does it.

Fat tears spill over your bottom lashes, and you hug him back as hard as you can.

Eddie caresses and kisses every part of you he can reach. “Why’d you ask me that, huh? Did I do something to make you feel like you aren’t?” Every part of him aches at the thought of making you feel undesirable, accident or not.

You can only snuffle in reply at this point, too caught up in your tears to answer him coherently.

“Shhh,” he hushes you gently, rubbing your back. “Take a deep breath, baby. Try and relax for me, okay?”

He continues to coo sweet nothings in your ear while you let it all out, until you eventually come down from the crying jag. You slump against him, exhausted, waiting for the last few rogue sobs to finish wracking your body.

Eddie holds you all the while, and then tucks you away under his chin.

His voice is soft like velvet. “What happened to my girl today?” He resumes the gentle swaying from before, hoping the motion will soothe you. “What’s making you feel like this?”

“O-overheard…s-some people t-today…” you manage to stutter out.

Eddie’s jaw sets. Would you and he never escape the cruel judgment of others?

“They’re wrong,” he says firmly. “Don’t listen to them. Just listen to me, yeah?”

He jostles you lightly in his lap when you don’t answer. “I said, yeah?”

“Y-yes, Eddie.”

He softens again. “Good girl.” He dots a few more kisses onto your head. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. I thought you were the second I saw you. And then you turned out to be beautiful on the inside, too. Lucky me, huh?” Another kiss. “My beautiful girl. You’re my angel.”

Your voice is still watery, almost inaudible. “Thank you.”

He gives you a tight squeeze, still speaking in dulcet tones. “I’m happy to tell you that, because it’s true. I’ll tell you all the time now.” Kiss. “I think you need some sleep, sweetheart. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”

He doesn’t let go of you for the entire night.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #sorry this is so sappy & gross i'm just in a mood ig #also sorry for using the term 'making love.' it was the only one that felt right #just really craving some soft sweet eddie rn 🥺

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imfinereallyy · 8 months

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Steve likes to sleep on Eddie’s chest. He likes to be touching every sliver of skin without being overwhelmed by another body. Eddie’s love feels open like this, stretched out for him to hold, giving him a place of safety. Steve’s grateful the man is a weirdo who likes to sleep on his back. Most sane people sleep on their sides or stomach but no—Eddie Munson enjoys his hair pulled up and cold feeling of a pillow on the back of his neck.

But Steve never complains. He likes that Eddie is strange. He has never been much for tradition cuddling. It always feels. suffocating, wrapped up with nowhere to go. A battle of power of some sorts. But this right here, with Steve’s ear pressed against Eddie’s slow heartbeat, lulling him softly to sleep as he curls into Eddie’s side…Steve’s pretty sure he has to thank a god he doesn’t believe in for letting him this close to a place—a person he can finally call home.

#steddie #just a lil snippet of something while I try to get out of my slump #I not writers block but no motivation right now #so this felt good #writing prompts #Eddie Munson #steve harrington #soft boys #my writing #steve x eddie #domestic fluff #soft steve harrington

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years

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Just Make it Better｡*.✧

Pairing | Eddie Munson x bartender!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, porn with a fair bit of plot, swearing, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, AU where the pull out method is infallible, he comes on reader but like in a romantic way.

Word Count | ~4,830

A/N | Eddie: that's what's killing the kids!!! Me, twirling my hair: haha, wow, so true, Eddie.

It was super fun to watch stranger things 4 late and say to myself, wow Eddie is so cute, I wonder if there’s any fics of him, then hop on tumblr and find out he's the internet's latest boyfriend. Happy to be here with you all.

“Hi, sweet boy,” you coo, squatting down to let the little black and white cat rub his face against your hand. When you place the plate down for him, he lets you keep petting him for a while before he goes for it, as if he knows that’s the price of the food you bring him each night.

You’ve been affectionately calling him Banjo, after the instrument that was playing in the bar the first time you saw him, when he was all skin and bones. His fur is softer and fuller since you first encountered him mewling by the dumpster behind the Hideout. Steady meals and a little love have brought back his willingness to groom himself. “You’re looking real cute these days, mister.”

“You really know how to make a guy jealous.” You jump at the sudden voice from behind, falling on your ass on the ground beside your stray friend. Banjo, who has become less jumpy the longer you’ve known him, doesn’t even look up from his dinner.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You yell, pushing yourself up to stand, rubbing your hands on the front of your denim shorts.

You should have known he’d appear. He never let a Tuesday go by without talking to you, but you’d thought you could avoid him today. Banjo was probably here twenty minutes ago, waiting for you, but you kept yourself behind the bar until Eddie and his band were almost finished on the makeshift stage in the corner of the Hideout. You’d thought, foolishly, that he might take the hint and leave before you came back inside.

If he had, it would have guaranteed you another week of not going home with him.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in earnest, having the humility to look a little guilty. “Just wondering why the little guy gets all the compliments.”

You don’t answer, embarrassed that Eddie saw you acting like that. All soft for a dumb cat. He might get ideas about the kind of person you are.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Was looking for you. Wanted to tell you the big news,” he grins, widening his arms. “You are looking at a member of the Hawkins High graduating class of 1986. Got the diploma and everything.”

Your look is impassive. “Amazing to think what somebody can achieve in just ten years.”

“Only six, actually,” he corrects, joy unwavering. He watches you pick up Banjo’s plate and give him a couple long strokes down his back, standing to the side to keep the back door open and allow you through.

“So, what’s next, Eddie? Let me guess. MIT, right?”

It’s mean, you know it is. But you can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

When you first started working at the Hideout, the Summer after you yourself graduated, you tried keeping him at arm’s length gently. You were all one word answers for a while. But he could deal with that, easily. Half the kids in his club started like that. He’d coaxed every one of them out of their shell, building them up from shy, quiet boys to almost-men willing to stand on a shitty little stage and play their own music in front of a whole room of people who’d maybe rather they weren’t there.

So you’d changed tack. Instead, for the last year, you’ve been trying to beat him away. Trying to make it as clear as possible.

I’m not worth it. I’m not good for you. I won’t ever make you happy.

The success of this tactic had been hampered, you knew, by the way you let him take you back to his uncle’s trailer every once in a while.

“I’ve got plans,” Eddie’s eyes sparkle, more sure of himself than a new graduate has any right to be.

“And these plans involve continuing to play here every Tuesday,”

“Well, I know you’d miss our little chats,” he says. “Besides, we are technically supposed to get paid for playing here, and I haven’t actually seen Tommy in like two months?”

You hum. That sounds about right. Tommy had started to make a habit of letting you close up on Tuesdays, especially. “Try letting him smack your ass next time you see him,” you answer. “That usually puts him in a good enough mood to pay properly.”

Eddie makes a face like he’s considering it. “We’ll maybe make that Plan B.”

That almost earns him a smile, but you push it down. “Great, now, get out from behind the bar.”

Eddie bows his head a little like he’s apologising. He jogs round the bar, hair flying behind him before he settles himself on the stool across from you.

“Honey?” You glance down the bar at one of the regulars. “Can I get two beers for me and my buddy?”

“Uh-huh, which buddy’s that, Murphy?” He makes a non committal noise, gesturing vaguely behind him. “Yeah, nice try, but we agreed, three tops. This is the last one, then it’s Pepsi for the rest of the night, okay?”

He grunts, but doesn’t complain, just grabbing the open beer you hand him and returning to his place at the edge of the room.

You glance at Eddie, finding him smiling at you warmly. “So, what did you think of the show?”

You purse you lips, trying to look like you’re really thinking about it. “You certainly make me appreciate the talents of real musicians, Eddie.”

In truth, you admire Eddie and his friends, playing their music every Tuesday for an audience that barely realises they’re there. And it’s good; loud and real and alive. Stuff you’d listen to in the car, if you had one, and if they ever made a real record.

And you like watching him play, especially. Eddie has always had confidence you couldn’t believe, but when he’s got a guitar in his hands it’s like it has somewhere to go. The way he looks with his head thrown back, hair wild about his face. It’s half the reason you tried to avoid him tonight, knowing you were too worked up to say no if he asked to take you back to his.

“Your children are waiting on you,” you tell him, looking pointedly behind him at his bandmates who you know for a fact are too young to be in here. They’re watching both of you with the dumb grins boys get when their friends talk to a girl. God, you can believe he just graduated. This feels exactly like being in high school.

“I can, uh, give them a ride and come back for you, if you want,” he says, gently, scratching the side of his neck.

You swallow, knowing exactly what will happen if you let Eddie bring you back to his trailer. You mentally count how long it’s been since you let him touch you. At least a month. Longer, if the warmth between your thighs is any indicator.

This is the worst part. However you say it, accepting his invitation is telling him that you’re thinking about him, that you want him.

“Okay,” you say lightly. Looking away from his eyes, so intent on you.

“Yeah?” He grins, throwing his shoulders back and nodding. “Okay, I will see you at one then.”

You hum, still trying to make it seem like you don’t care either way. When he’s gone, you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and regret. Fuck, why couldn’t you just tell him, once and for all, that you aren’t interested. He’d listen, you know he would. He wouldn’t like it, but if you really told him that you didn’t want to keep doing this, that he should stop talking to you, stop inviting you home, then he would.

You’re resigned to it, the rest of the night. Even as you’re flipping chairs on top of tables, you’re rehearsing what to say. Listen, I’m just gonna go home, you plan out every word in your head. I don’t think this is going where you want it to, Eddie, and we’ll both be better off if you leave me be from now on.

Only, there he is at the window, smiling and waving at you like an excited boy about to take you to prom.

He even opens the passenger door of his van for you.

The whole way, he talks at you easily, letting you wallow in silence. He tells you about his final month at high school, the way he’d clawed his way towards a D in English, which surprises you, given how much he reads.

It’s strange, listening to him talk about something that feels so long ago, now, for you. But you were there, together at one point, even if you never spoke to Eddie at all while you were. Different circles, different friends. Not that any of yours lasted past senior year. Eddie was the only person you talked to from school, these days.

It has you thinking, what it would have been like if you’d spoken to Eddie, properly, when you were in high school still. What would he have thought of you, if he knew you before life decided things were a little too good and kicked you in the teeth? Would he like you better without the jagged edges? Would you let him be sweet with you, outside of his bed, like he wants to be?

Eddie lets you into his trailer first, directing you straight to his bedroom, as always, after the one time Wayne had come home early. He hadn’t caught you on your knees for Eddie, the way you had been when you heard his car pull up in the middle of the night. But he had caught sight of you disappearing into the bathroom. He had seen Eddie standing there with your bra held behind his back, trying to casually untuck his shirt from his newly pulled up pants to cover the wet patch where you had pressed your mouth over the denim just to see him throw his head back.

It had taken him two months to get you here again.

“So, they both have girlfriends?” You ask, incredulous, breathing out smoke that already has you a little more relaxed, a little giggly with him. He’s telling you about the youngest in his group, and the weird way they try to one up each other when they talk about the girls that conveniently both live in different states.

“So they claim,” he nods, taking the offered joint from your fingers and resting it in the ashtray beside his bed. “Amazing how times change. Girls were certainly not impressed by guys that play fantasy games, when I was fifteen.”

You hum, not sure that’s true. You remember Eddie at fifteen. He was just starting to grow his hair out, and it looked crazy, sure. But his eyes were as they are now, big and expressive.

“Maybe not when you were fifteen, but don’t tell me you haven’t had a couple cheerleaders going through a rebellious phase in this bed over the years.” There’s a pause, and you catch Eddie glancing up at the ceiling. You howl a laugh. “I fucking knew it. Some metalhead you are. You liked the same girls all those basketball players were into.”

“No need to be jealous, sweetheart,”

That has you rolling your eyes, whether he’s right or not. “As if I’d be jealous of Hayley Matthews.” You watch his eyes for a twitch, any hint of being caught out, but he’s just watching you, unamused. “Olivia? Zoe Miller!” His expression is unflinching, increasingly frustrating you. You grab his wrist and squeeze. “C’mon, tell me!”

He tries to shake your hand off his wrist but you just hold on to it with the other, opening your mouth to try and irritate him more when he grabs your hands in his and presses them together, pinning them against your stomach. Arousal zings up your back, the wetness between your legs that has been there since he first strummed a chord at the bar suddenly much more noticeable.

None of this gets past Eddie, who shakes his head at you in disapproval, voice harsh. “You know, you’re getting kind of predictable, sweetheart.”

You rub your thighs together, anticipation making your head a little fuzzy already. You’re so close to getting what you want from him. In a second, he’ll flip you over and tug off your shorts, pull your hips up and bend himself over your back. Then he’ll give you his cock, and his groans in the air above your head. He’ll let you bite his sheets and smell him on them. Soon you’ll feel good and owned until your head is empty, like you want it.

Only, Eddie just lets your hands go, and backs away from you. You watch, fighting a pout as he stands by the bed and removes his t-shirt, grinning at the way your eyes dart between his tattoos, his necklace, then back to his face. He reaches for you, grasps your hips and this is it. But he’s not turning you over. He’s pulling you towards him, your ass almost hanging off the side of his mattress, his big hands resting on your hips. He lets you squirm and avoid eye contact for a second before he works the button of your shorts open, pulling them down your legs and off your feet. He throws them over his shoulder in a way that might make you laugh at him if he weren’t staring at you like that.

Eddie hums, hooking his arms under your legs to open them up for him. He leans his body over yours, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you. But his lips find your neck instead, soft kisses he trails down to the neckline of your shirt. He shoves the fabric of it up, up and over your chest, face still pressed against your collar bone when he tucks his fingers into your bra to pull it down over your tits.

You let him do everything wordlessly, not exactly able to complain even if he’s doing this softer, slower than you normally get him to. His breath goes a little funny when he pulls back to glance at your chest, but he’s back to himself in a second, burying his face against the skin between your tits before he drags his lips up to pull at your nipple. You feel a little bit of teeth on the sensitive skin and whimper, pushing the heel of your hand into his sheets.

You moan outright when he rubs his thumb against your clit over your panties, digging the material between your lips. You feel his grin against the underside of your breast, then on the skin by your belly button and above your panties. “Eddie,” you say, trying to sound put together even as he has you ready to beg. “You don’t have to.”

He pulls your panties to the side with one hand and glides his fingers up your pussy with the other, stopping at your clit to give you a little rub with the rough pads of his guitarist fingers. “I can see that,” he answers, grinning and dropping to his knees by the edge of the bed. He pulls your panties further to the right and out to let him get his head where he wants it.

You cry out his name when he gets his mouth on you, immediately lifting your hips up and off the bed with your feet on the edge. You feel his laugh against your cunt as he presses you gently back down to the mattress. There’s no teasing, just his wet, soft tongue playing with your button, drifting down to give your hole a wide lick before he’s back looking after your clit.

Your hand is gentle, threading through the hair at the top of his head to hold him to you, even though he doesn’t even pull away for a second. You dare yourself to look away from his ceiling, down your own torso to his face between your legs, whining to find him with his eyes already on you.

You feel the tips of his fingers circling your hole, rubbing over your entrance before letting them glide inside, pressing immediately against the spot that has you throwing your other hand down to his hair and grasping him tighter.

Everything is numb but the pleasure building deep in your cunt, his soft hair between your fingers and your thighs. “Eddie,” you gasp, needing something, you don’t know what. You whine, wanting him to know what to do to make it happen for you, like he always does. “Eddie, please.”

He shakes his head between your thighs, his tip of his tongue bullying your clit, and then he’s pulling your hand from his hair. Turning his palm to yours, he curls his ringed fingers between yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You squeeze his big hand as he pushes you over, hips jerking against his face wildly. You cry out at the intensity of him still playing with your twitching button as the pleasure in that spot becomes unbearable. He gives your clit one final kiss, a little suction between his lips that has you slamming both your hands against the mattress repeatedly. When he takes his fingers from your pussy, you can feel the slick that follows them leaking out of you. Without hesitation, Eddie buries his fingers in his mouth, tongue dragging between them as he pulls them back out, already clean of you.

The other hand, still grasped in your own, he brings to his lips as he stands. He presses his swollen, wet lips to the back of it, along your knuckles.

When he untangles your fingers, your chest aches.

“C’mon,” he says, so gentle. “Want you naked.”

You pull your top over your head, relief at the new cool air on your heated skin almost overwhelming. Eddie focuses on getting your underwear off while you remove your bra, then he tugs your socks off your feet.

He smiles at you, tilting his head. His gaze moves over you, up from your swollen cunt to your face, which you’re sure is giving away everything you’re feeling. A little shock, some nerves. All your adoration.

“So pretty, all over,” he says, kissing your knee that’s still tucked up to keep you open for him. “Pretty cunt, pretty tits, pretty face,” he grins against your skin. “Pretty girl.”

You can’t help yourself when you giggle, feeling a little manic from what just happened. Eddie’s eaten you out before, lots. Before and after he’s had his cock in you. But not like that, never so gentle yet frantic, like he was desperate to do it, not to get you wet enough for him, but to make you feel legless and soft on his bed.

You miss his hand in yours.

The metallic jangle of his belt buckle has you shaking your hips in excitement, wanting him now, now, now.

“I know,” Eddie says, unzipping his pants and pushing them down over his narrow hips. His thick cock is flushed pink, his balls heavy and swollen and fuzzy with dark hair. The sight of his cock has you wrapping your hands around the back of your legs and pulling back, not even feeling judged or insecure when he laughs at your movement, but just more desperate.

Eddie takes some deep, slow breaths, wrapping his hand around his swollen cock and pulling the skin back over his wet, sticky head. You don’t know why you’re not telling him to hurry up, you’re feeling desperate enough for it. But it doesn’t feel like your place right now, to tell him what to do with himself, or with you.

Eddie watches your face as he drags the head of his cock up, his wide head catching your hole then pushing at your sensitive clit. Your mouth sits open, ready to moan when he finally gives it to you, but for now you’re just gasping, giving him little girlish whines that have his cock twitching in his hand.

He breathes out through his nose when he catches his cock against your entrance a final time, sliding himself into your wet, clenching cunt and groaning through his closed mouth.

You clasp onto his shoulders as he builds his pace, stroking himself in and out of you steadily, the wet sound of your cunt clasping onto him filling the room. His hair falls round the sides of his head, and you wish that he’d tuck it behind his shoulders so you could see his lovely face better.

He does, throwing his head back like a lion shaking its mane to get it out of his face, making you breathe a quick laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so soft on you, then, his hands gentle on your hips. “You wanted to see me, huh?”

He always knows.

“Mmm-hmm,” you whine, fingers digging into him.

“You like looking at me while I fuck you?” You shift your hips against his, dizzy with the questions when you don’t want to be thinking anymore, not when his cock is finally getting good use of your cunt like you wanted. “C’mon,” he murmurs, leaning over you, his face now close to yours. Oh, that makes you squeeze around him, enough that you see him pull his eyebrows together. “You like looking at me?”

“Yeah,” you whine, hoping that’s the last of it.

“You’re usually so mean to me,” he breathes, hand coming up to stroke the hair back from your forehead. You mewl at the stuttered thrusts he gives you, grasping him pleadingly. “So fucking mean all the time, but that’s okay.” He smiles at you, thumb stroking over the top of your cheek. “It’s what you need, so you can be good for me like this. Isn’t that right?”

You’re staring at his big eyes, your vision steadily blurring. “Yes, Eddie,”

“Yeah, I thought so, baby,” he coos, pressing kisses under your eyes. “And you’re so good for me when I get my cock inside you,” he nods you through your cry, letting you know it’s all okay. “So good for me when I touch you.”

“I wanna be good,” you tell him, feeling overwhelmed, but suddenly desperate for him to know.

“Oh, sweetheart,”

“I wanna be good, Eddie,” you cry, tears finally falling down the sides of your eyes. He hushes you, holding your face in his big hands, thumbs wiping the wetness away from your burning cheeks. You squeeze his shoulders, wanting him to kiss you.

It’s like he knows. He always fucking knows. Eddie presses his soft lips to yours, breathing in your cries from the constant movement of him over you, inside you. He draws his hips back, then up as he pushes in and oh God.

“Eddie,” you gasp.

“That’s it, yeah?” You nod desperately, reaching out almost blind through the tears in your eyes to find his hand and drag it to the top of your cunt, his laugh above you breathy. “I’ve got you,” Eddie says, letting you press his fingers to your clit. He flattens three of them against your sensitive button, rubbing in wide circles that have your thighs shaking.

You realise suddenly that you’ve been holding your breath, feeling it fall out of you in a wail. You stare at his face as the feeling builds, spreading from the spot the head of Eddie’s cock is dragging against with each thrust to your clit and up your spine. His cheeks are spotted pink, the hair covering his forehead frizzy but for where it’s sticking to his skin. His wide eyes are intent on yours as he nods. “C’mon,” he says, his cock twitching and you realise he needs you to get yours first. “Let me feel it, then I’ll give you my cum all over your little pussy, just how you like.”

Your whole body spasms when you come, your toes curling, your legs pushing up and out enough that Eddie has to put some effort into keeping you in place. He’s murmuring praise all the way through, telling you how good you are for him, how nice your little pussy feels clenching and pulling at his cock.

“You, now,” you say, encouraging him along, wanting to see him and feel the evidence of his pleasure on you.

Eddie gives a long groan, and you feel his cock twitch and flex inside before he drags himself from your hole. It sounds like it hurts to leave your warmth, and a little, insane, part of you thinks about telling him to put it back in and cum inside, if that’s what he wants.

But he’s already at the edge. You watch through hooded eyes as he plays with his cock over your sex, curling his body over yours and slapping his hand on the mattress by your head. You place your palm on the side of his neck and he kisses your wrist quickly, groaning against your skin when he comes, ropes of him landing on your wet, clenching pussy.

His hips twitch in the air as he coaxes out the final drops, letting himself rub his head against your sensitive clit, leaving his cum there even as your body twitches and jumps in protest.

Your hand keeps rubbing the side of his neck without you even thinking about it, drifting up to scratch at the back of his head when he falls into you, his face pressed into the skin between your tits. You feel a little numb all over, apart from the space when his warm breath is leaving your skin hot and wet.

Eddie kisses the inside of your breasts quickly, making to pull away but you’re grabbing him, wrapping your arms under his and around his torso.

“No, don’t go!” You cry, the thought of the cold air he’s about to let touch your skin making you shiver. The fear that he’ll laugh at you hits with intensity, but you only hear his harsh breaths mingling with yours.

“’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, kissing your chest again. “Just gonna get something to clean you up, then I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, guiding you to nod too, loosening your arms a little. “Okay,” he breathes, pulling himself slowly from you.

You stare at the ceiling when he’s gone, legs left open like you’re keeping the space for him.

Your thighs shake when you feel a wet cloth, gentle and just cold enough to soothe your hot cunt. Eddie cleans around your thighs, which have been wet with you own slick the whole evening. His touch leaves you for a minute, then he’s back with a cool glass, hand on the back of your head, tipping water into your pliant mouth. Then, he’s pulling your boneless body up to sit and dragging a new t-shirt over your torso. The smell of him, smoke and masculine aftershave, embraces you, letting your already fuzzy brain float a little further away from any impending anxiety.

You feel the bed shift and creak, then he pulls you up the bed away from the wet patch you’ve left on the sheets, settling you against his chest as he leans upright against his pillows.

You drift a little at the feeling of his hand on your upper arm, gently stroking. Your eyes close, you don’t know for how long, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, but Eddie’s still there with a gentle caress.

You stare at the dark hair on his chest, trying to enjoy the afterglow even as shame starts to build in your chest. Your brain is already mocking you, for all the things you just said, all the things you let him coax from you.

And he knows.

"If you want, the fur ball can come live here."

You blink, not following at all, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed from earlier or Eddie himself that’s caused it. "What?"

"Yeah, Wayne wouldn't mind as long as he doesn't have to be the one to feed him," he says, looking like he’s thinking it through even as he speaks, and you remember he saw you with the cat.

“You mean you’d look after Banjo?” You ask without thinking, still staring at his chest, not even realising you just told him you went as far as giving the street cat you feed every day its very own silly pet name.

He keeps stroking the top of your arm. “Yeah, he could terrorise the birds in the woods to his fluffy little heart’s content.” Eddie’s fingers move, up and down, up and down. "And you could come visit him, I don't know, every day maybe."

Your breath is unsteady. Slowly, you let yourself rest your arm over his torso, almost hugging him.

"I think he would like that."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #service top eddie munson #aka the real eddie munson #there is a cat that just lies on a dumped mattress on my street every day #and for weeks i'd walk past him at like 6am on my way to work and just like wave #then one day they gave me a proper meeow and ran right up to me and rubbed against my leg and and i felt hashtag blessed #and i was like hey that feels like a cool start to a fic #cause that's how i think #and then the cat became a real proper metaphor #like a metaphor that real writers use in this stranger things smut fic lmao #anyway #lov eddie he soft #(✿ ♡‿♡)💖#my stuff

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sweetcreaturetm · 1 year

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It starts when Steve is taking care of a still in hiding and recovering Eddie. He does little things for him that Eddie can’t for himself. When Eddie can’t put deodorant on cause he can’t raise his arms high enough Steve rubs it on for him. He starts making Eddie his plate for him so Eddie won’t have to struggle with reaching for anything. He combs Eddie’s hair and then washes it for him and puts curl cream and massages it in. It’s all very domestic. That’s how they fall in love. Eddie thinks Steve will stop trying to woo him or something but it doesn’t stop.

Eddie thinks one day Steve is gonna stop putting his deodorant on Eddie when he does his own. But he still motions for Eddie to put his arms up so he can do it for him in the mornings and after a shower. He still makes his plate for him wherever they are at Steve’s house by themselves, at Wayne’s new trailer (Wayne shoots him a look behind Steve’s back the first time he sees him do it. Eddie just shakes his head cause he’s tried to tell him he didn’t have to), or at a barbecue with the whole party Steve just asks what Eddie wants and brings him a full plate. Dustin and Robin are gaping at him he chuckles and just shrugs. But his favorite is when they shower together and Steve gently detangles his hair for him, shampoos and conditions it, and then he rubs this amazing smelling curl cream in. He’s always so gentle with Eddie even though he’s all healed up.

Eddie realizes Steve wasn’t doing any of that to woo him or anything he was just doing it cause that’s how Steve treats the people he loves. And for some reason he loves Eddie.

#I just love domestic soft steddie #sue me #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #eddie munson #another ficlet based on my relationship #when I had my stroke I couldn’t lift my right arm so my husband put my deodorant on for me #now I hold my arms up and he’ll do it for me lmao

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steddiesucker · 2 years

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Thinking about the big ass yellow sweater Steve threw at Eddie right before jumping into Lover’s Lake. We know it was left behind in that boat.

Now imagine the boat broke when Hawkins split apart, earthquake so strong it ripped it in two pieces. The yellow sweater slowly floating to the shore thanks to its great, thick fabric. Eddie, being very much alive, sits in the shadows of a tree in the middle of the night, not being able to sleep and sees the sweater being illuminated by the moon, getting bunched up against the shore repeatedly to the wind blowing over the water.

Eddie stubs out his joint and gets up, not knowing what that thing might be yet, until he picks it up. Thick water droplets splash to the ground, splatter on his shoes, but he couldn’t care less. He’s holding Steve’s sweater in his hands and all what had happened in these past few days comes crashing down, forcing him to his knees, feeling heavy in his chest.

He takes the sweater home and washes it with the intention to give it back to the rightful owner, only to find himself drowning in this big, yellow, soft clothing while he couldn’t resist trying it on. The arms are a tad too long, flapping over his hands and Eddie’s shoulders were no near as broad as Steve’s, so the seam hangs low, showing off a little more of his collarbone and his tattoo.

From that point on Eddie wears it every time, right after he comes home. It’s almost as natural as kicking off his jeans to get into comfy, worn out jogging pants. Only that Eddie also chucks off his beloved band shirts now to wear this sweater, nuzzling into it, feeling all warm and fuzzy. He’s trying to talk himself to think it’s because he never owned or wore such an expensive, soft piece of clothing before and not because of the reason it actually belongs to Steve „Monster-Slayer“ Harrington and how much he wanted this sweater to smell like Steve, just like it had on the day he threw it in Eddie’s arms.

He remembers a faint smell of musky sweat, but in a good way, with a hint of something spicy and a refreshing sort of lavender. It had a blend of a wild, watery scent, which might as well have been his cologne since Steve still smells like it when he sees him nowadays. It just wasn’t the same without Steve’s scent on the sweater.

Eddie wears it so often to the point of him not noticing anymore he’s wearing it in the first place, automatism be damned.

#Eddie wearing Steve’s sweater is so cute #I have a soft spot for boys in oversized shirts #in my headcanon you can be damn sure steve finding out about the sweater #but I’m by no means a writer #but we all can agree eddie likes ‘em big right?#the clothes I mean #stealing them from his partners #lmao I’ll stop now #stranger things #steddie #steddie headcanon #headcanon #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #soft eddie munson #thinking thoughts #might delete later

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navnae · 1 year

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Steve brings up the idea to Eddie that they should donate to charity and Eddie is on board immediately. Both of them donate to the charities of kids that don’t have a home or they are in need of food. They donate constantly and make daily visits to see the kids, forming a bond with a few and telling them stories to brighten their day. It’s the small things that they’re able to do to put a smile on a kids face and making their day a little bit better.

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firefly-party · 1 year

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My hand slipped. Sry.

So, apologies in advance for the non witcher content...but these two have made my whole last month? I very veeeery much blame @dapandapod for getting me into Steddie. So pls, direct all kinds of complaints towards her. Guess i'll start being a multiship art blog :)

Seriously now, I'm not leaving witcher (esp jaskel) behind but the last weeks have been a mess and i drowned myself in fics to compensate all the irl shit. Since there's a really bad jaskel drought, i had to find sth new? and Eddie and Steve...well, these two spark joy. So whatever.

No ppl tagging. It's steddie. I don't wanna assume. I'm shy and nervous af :D

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #yes this is a rough “sketch” but it took so many hours and an embarrassing amount of ref pics to get them somewhat right-ish?#so yeah...first time drawing steddie :3 #they're fun and cute #and too soft... i should sprinkle them in more blood and injuries next time #i'm amazed about their different features tho #their face shapes are so unique and the eyes ....goddamn the eyes D: ahhhhhh #joe and joseph are out of this world #goddamn #kei's stranger things art

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