𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖎 @sleeplessnini - Tumblr Blog

older!neighbor!eddie finding out somehow about his (reader) neighbors age kink through a mutual friend and teasing her w it when she goes over to talk to him abt smth 😳🫣

The Life And Times Of a Teenage Rock God

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x Reader

WC: 12.2k

Summary: Eddie is fine on his own, he doesn’t need, nor does he want, a wife. He loves his solitary lifestyle, it suits him just fine. That is until he meets his new neighbor…

A/N: I need to stop creating overarching storylines and just write the requests as is lmao. Me making Eddie an anti-wife guy for irony is what pushed this to 12.2k words. It took me a minute to get inspiration for the request, but here we are. I did change it just a bit to something that made more sense for me. If my Eddie x Popular!Reader fic is late, it’s because of this. Pls forgive any mistakes, I'm washing my hands of this brain worm. Also, idk what timeframe we’re in here, Eddie grew up like he did in the show, but I didn’t write it like it was 2009 because the 2010’s era makes me cringe. Anywhores, thanks for the request! My inbox is open, but I can't promise anything.

Tags: it’s a lot- here we go, SMUT, 18+ minors dni, unprotected sex, cum eating, PiV sex, pussy eating, cum play, breeding kink, age kink, age gap (E is 43 R is 27), pregnancy kink, thoughts of pregnancy sex, use of the word ‘whorish’, kind of dumbification, humiliation kink kinda, slight degradation but in a condescending way not really name calling, overuse of the word hole, hole as a nickname, pubes, breast play, nipple stimulation, sir kink, eddie gets dommy, reader gets a little subby- just a smidge, thoughts of cock sucking, egregious flirtation, dirty talk, begging, innocence kink, a few jokes during sex, messy making out, reader gets insecure about her pussy before eddie eats her out, jealousy, yearning, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, eddie’s jumping the gun wanting you pregnant and married to him after first meeting, Robin and Vickie are wives (don’t talk to me about the US gay marriage timeline- they’re wives), Steve has an OC wife named Jess, possessive!Eddie, mentions of fighting a guy, Eddie is so cutesy old fashioned, I can’t think of anything else- if I missed anything pls lmk

Masterlist

Eddie didn’t feel very old, he’d rather argue he’s pretty spry for 43-years-old. He ate decent enough, long gone were the days of living off of Funyons and Mountain Dew. He kept fairly fit, he didn’t hit the gym, but he did a lot of manual labor at the shop as Head Mechanic.

Of course he felt his age a bit when the kids, who were no longer kids, came back into town with their wives. Lucas and Max, the girl he used to refer to as the scary redhead who he now knows is a scary redhead, Mike and El, and Dustin and Susie. Hell, even Harrington’s group of rugrats age him a bit. It’s like every time one of Steve's kids hits 3-years-old he decides it’s time for another kid, poor Jess, Eddie thinks.

He thinks his life of solitude has kept him young, no screaming kids giving him grey hairs, no nagging wife causing him frown lines. Life is good.

Robin doesn’t believe that for a second, though. She’s been trying to get Eddie back out there for five years now, completely ignoring his pleas for her to stop setting him up on dates with the girls she knows. He always has weird experiences with her friends, he’s not sure how she befriends such eccentric women.

Every summer since the guys moved into the same neighborhood twelve years ago, Steve throws a block party open to all neighbors. It’s a huge barbecue pool party type of thing, complete with Steve’s array of stupid aprons.

This year he’s wearing the one Eddie got him as a gift for his birthday. It’s black with a spatula and a two-pronged fork crossed in an ‘X’ formation with the words, 'My meat isn’t gonna rub itself.’ Eddie thought it was hilarious, Robin, on the other hand, shook her head muttering, ‘dinguses,’ under her breath.

Every time they get together Robin tries to show Eddie how nice it is to have a wife, often using Vickie as an example. It makes Eddie roll his eyes, she’s so transparent, can’t hide her endgame if her life depended on it.

Vickie hands Robin a plate of food she gathered for her from the buffet style table, Robin too engrossed in a conversation with Eddie about the difference between Metal and Rock.

“No, you misunderstand me- my point is rock is like an umbrella,” she makes a broad gesture above her head, “and metal- oh, thank you, hun,” she tips her head back to smile at Vickie’s figure behind her shoulder, taking the plate from her hands.

Eddie can’t help but smile at their cuteness, he remembers hearing from Steve how horribly nervous Robin was about even talking to Vickie. Now they’ve been together for twenty-two years. Even that makes his cold, dead heart thaw a little. That is until Robin gives him a pointed look.

“Seeee? A wife is a plus! You don’t have to get your own food!” She says it like she’s trying to sell him the newest upgrade to his cellphone, it makes him shake his head, an amused expression settling onto his pale face.

“Uh,” Vickie cuts in, finger in the air as if making a point, “yes you do have to get your own food. I’m only doing this because of that thing you did earlier,” voice lowering like it’s a secret Eddie shouldn’t hear.

“Ah,” Robin nods, catching on to Vickie’s insinuation, “yes, that thing that I did to you earlier with my thing on your thing.”

Eddie snorts, Robin has not changed in all his years of knowing her, never really a smooth criminal.

“You guys do know I know how the birds and the bees work- or,” he pauses, stuttering a bit before continuing, “I guess the bees and the bees in this case.” His brow is scrunched, lip curled, cringing at his awkward save.

“You know I’d like to think that you do, Eddie. I really would, but I don’t see a ring on your finger,” shaking her head, reprimanding him.

Eddie lets out a laugh, “What are you, Saint Robin? I need to marry first before I can have sex?”

“Well-,”

“-And by the way, I have had sex before,” he laughs.

“Sure you have champ,” she pats his knee condescendingly, a look of faux pity on her face.

“Whatever, I don’t need to take this from you,” he gets up to check on Steve at the grill.

“Hey buddy!” Steve draws out the greeting, flipping a burger before looking at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles a greeting, turning to face the party, his back to the grill, a cold beer in his hands.

“I hate these singles, you know-,” Steve’s shaking his head, looking down at his ministrations preparing to complain, but Eddie’s already cutting him off.

“Oh please! Like you couples are a joy to be around, it’s always, ‘I gotta ask my wife,’ ‘Sorry I can’t come out tonight, I’m too busy looking for my balls,’” he mocks. “News flash! They’re rolling around in her purse!”

Steve opens his mouth to ask Eddie what the hell he’s so bent out of shape for, but he never gets a word in. Eddie’s too busy going off on one of his grand speeches, just like old times.

“I don’t need anybody, okay? I’m perfectly fine on my own, in fact, I’m more than fine. I'm happy! I’m glad I don’t have anybody waiting for me to get home! I’m fucking ecstatic that I get to eat alone, nobody takes my food, I probably save thousands of dollars buying everything for one! Not everybody wants to be married and pop out a whole baseball team like you and your wife, Steve!” Eddie’s meltdown draws the attention of a few surrounding partygoers, earning him some judgemental stares and curled lips.

Steve looks at him like he’s grown two heads, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape as he lets Eddie’s words become stale in the hot summer air. Just really letting him stew in it before he decides to speak again.

“Okay…project much?” He shakes his head in disbelief, “I was talking about the burgers. Robin bought me individually wrapped burgers, in single packaging. It’s been a bitch to unwrap all 30 of ‘em,” he emphasizes his explanation, a level of sass in his voice he hasn’t released in years.

Eddie deflates at the sight of the scraps of white paper and cellophane littering the ground on the other side of the grill, feeling incredibly stupid right about now.

“Oh…yeah, I knew that…” He shoves his free hand into his pocket trying to fight through the embarrassment, “I love Jess by the way, she’s lovely, gorgeous family you have there,” he rushes out, nodding his head.

Steve looks at him incredulously, “Shut up.”

“Shutting up.” Eddie nods, pressing his mouth shut, resigning himself to standing in the awkward tension he created.

Thankfully, he’s ‘saved by the Robin’ as she comes rushing over with Vickie hot on her trail, “Steve, you have a new neighbor! She just pulled in with her U-Haul, it looks like she’s unpacking everything herself.” She stops to catch her breath, all the information spilling out in one excited spiel, then she turns her bright eyes to Eddie which makes him raise his eyebrows at being singled out, “And she’s a total hottie, maybe a little young, but you could be a manther!”

Eddie recoils in disgust at the name, here we go again, he thinks. Matchmaker Robin to the rescue.

Steve looks at Robin like she’s crazy, “Robin,” he bites with a clipped tone, yanking her proverbial leash like she’s a much too excited dog. He can’t believe she just said that in front of her wife. If he said that in front of Jess, the balls that Eddie claims are in her purse would soon be at the bottom of Lovers Lake, right next to his weighted body.

Vickie quickly cuts in, coming to her wife’s defense, “Oh no it’s fine! She is a total hottie,” she nods understandingly.

“Robin, I am begging you to stop setting me up with the women you know,” he holds his hands up, pressing them together, pleading with her. “Also, no offense, but you’ve lost all credibility in determining hotness, the last girl you set me up with looked like Uncle Wayne in a wig and a tube top,” he deadpans.

“Um,” Vickie jerks her head back like she’s been slapped, a frown etched into her freckled face, “full offense taken, by the way.”

Before Eddie can tell her he didn’t mean to call her hotness as Robin’s wife into question, Robin is pulling him and Steve across the yard to the neighboring house, the one that’s been up for sale for six months. Steve’s still clutching his spatula as he’s getting pulled away, he shouts behind him, “Honey, man the station! Don’t let my burgers burn!” He tosses the spatula to a very pregnant Jess who scrambles to catch it.

Eddie’s attempting to go deadweight, leaning back against Robin’s strong pull, but the woman must be on steroids because she’s trucking Steve and him along just fine.

She pulls them from the backyard to the side of your driveway, when they arrive your back is turned to them. You’re wearing high-waisted jean shorts and a pink tank top in an attempt to stay cool in the hot Indiana sun.

You’re reaching for a box you creatively labeled ‘clothes’ when you hear a woman’s voice behind you, causing you to turn around.

“Hi, I’m Robin! Welcome to the neighborhood- I don’t live here, here, have two men,” it all comes out in a jumble as she pushes Eddie and Steve forward towards you, “They can help you move whatever you need!”

As quick as she arrived, she hurried away. You didn’t even get to introduce yourself to her, she just spoke quickly at you then shoved two random men towards you. You watch her retreat back to the block party, amused confusion riddling your face.

In her absence you turn to look at the men in front of you, hesitating on what to say, you’ve never had this happen before. You open your mouth to say something when Steve gets there quicker, “Sorry about her,” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder, vaguely gesturing to where Robin disappeared to, “she can be really direct. I’m Steve! Nice to meet you.” He shakes your hand as you tell him your name, both of you silently wait. It’s Eddie’s cue to introduce himself, but he’s too busy staring at you.

Eddie’s jaw dropped the moment you turned around, he’s convinced he’s never seen a woman so beautiful in his entire life. The way your clothes fit you so nicely, your shorts might as well be painted on you. He’s immediately thinking lewd thoughts at the sight of the unyielding jean hem squeezing the fat of your thighs.

He’s pretty sure he could paint your every feature from memory with how deeply his roving eyes are consuming your image. Don’t even get him started on the way your tank top accentuates your breasts, he feels like a teenager all over again, trying to think of math equations so he doesn’t pop an ill-timed boner.

Then all of a sudden you’re looking at him, everything is in slow motion, you’re coming closer, he’s breathing in deeply through his nose to desperately catch your scent, you’re gorgeous lips are moving and he’s imagining them moving up and down on his cock, then he feels a sharp pain to his ribs and he’s jerking forward, a spluttering cough escaping him.

He feels like he just woke up from a dream, he realizes Steve knuckle-punched him right in the ribs, he rights himself and glares at his friend before turning to you again. Your ethereal face looks across between concerned and amused at the actions his so-called ‘friend’ committed. He’s going to have to have a talk with Steve about not hitting him like a 12-year-old in front of hot women, especially the hottest woman.

“What,” Eddie mutters the question, having missed what you said before when he was too busy thinking about your lips on his- stop. He realizes he sounds like a dufus, ‘what,’ smooth, Munson, he thinks.

But you don’t laugh in his face, call him an idiot and go back to your work like you probably should. No, instead, you just grin at his clearly dumbstruck face.

“I said, ‘And you are?’” You bat your lashes at him, tilting your chin down, never taking your eyes off of his.

“Eddie…Munson,” he cringes at the way his name felt foreign on his own tongue just now, what the hell are you doing to him? You’re like some kind of siren and he’s a sailor being lured, except you’re not singing, you’re not even trying to lure him and he’s already showing up with goggles, flippers, and a snorkel, diving into the waves in your eyes, all on his own free will. If you are a siren, he’s planning to be your easiest catch yet.

Steve’s watching his friend absolutely flounder in this interaction, shaking his head. ‘I’m happy alone,’ he mocks Eddie’s earlier words.

“Well, Eddie Munson,” you look him up and down like he’s a five course meal and you’re prêt-à-manger, “you look pretty strong, care to help a poor girl out?”.

“Yeah, I’m really strong,” he’s nodding, unblinking eyes on yours, his phrasing awkward in the context of the conversation. That wasn’t what you asked, but his mind is running about as fast as Dial-up Internet. Plus, he sounds like one of Steve’s boys whenever Steve asks if anybody can help him pick up the lawn chairs. The irony of a clearly younger woman making him feel like a horny, stuttering teenager again is not lost on him.

Your smirk only widens. Steve’s looking between you and Eddie in the silence of your nonresponse, suddenly feeling very out of place, the tension is thick like molasses. He clears his throat, drawing your eyes to him.

“I’m here too, by the way.” He raises his hand like it’s roll call back in high school.

You huff out an amused breath, “Come on, I could use both of you,” nodding your head back to the truck. You push a large box out of the way, clearing a path for them to pick up your dresser from inside the truck.

Eddie follows you, a little too close to your distracted body, his mind whirring at your comments about using him.

When you turn back to ask them to get the dresser you jump at Eddie’s proximity to you, you didn’t realize he was following so closely, practically on your heels.

“Oh! Jesus!” You backup a little from his body, a hand clutching your heart as you laugh at the scare.

Steve is quick to pull Eddie away from you by the back of his faded band shirt, apologizing for his friend’s creepy behavior, “Sorry, he failed out of obedience school,” he quips nervously.

Eddie’s too busy staring at you to hit Steve for his comment, “That’s alright,” you size Eddie up, a flirtatious glint in your eye, “he seems like he’d be better at giving orders anyway.”

Eddie’s fighting tooth and nail to withhold a groan at your words, the way you’re looking at him could send him into cardiac arrest. Every flirtation is accompanied with hungry eyes and an innocent smile, he feels like he could make a religion out of it. He’d develop a full on multi-level marketing scheme to recruit followers in your name, he’d indoctrinate as many apostles as he could. He’d create the rules to your religion himself, rule number one would be only he gets to fuck you.

Steve blanches at your brazen comment, both thankful you’re not looking at him like that and traumatized he’s being forced to watch a woman flirt with Eddie while Eddie fumbles the interaction astronomically.

You move on like you didn’t just say the nastiest thing Eddie’s heard in a while, “I could use help with the dresser, I was supposed to have a friend come help me, but he actually called to flake out right before you guys came over here.” You chuckle nervously, feeling embarrassed for over-explaining yourself to these attractive strangers.

Eddie bristles at the mention of a male friend, he wonders if you have a boyfriend, that makes him feel even more weird. He tries to convince himself you probably don’t, and if you do he’d like to have a talk with the douche who left you to do all the grunt work. Grunt work, now he’s thinking about the grunt work he’d like to do with you. He has to mentally slap himself back into shape, you asked for his help, he’s damn well going to help you.

“No problem, we can do it right, Steve?” He looks to Steve who’s hesitating, if he knew he was going to help somebody move he would’ve stretched, or offered to pay for movers so he doesn’t have to do any work.

Steve begrudgingly nods. They work together to pull the dresser to the edge of the truck, carrying it into your new house at your direction, both releasing relieved grunts when they set the heavy structure down.

“Thank you so much, guys, really! Is there any way I could repay you?” Your brows are furrowed, a hopeful, wide eyed gaze bouncing between the two huffing men.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve waves his hand at you, heading to leave your mostly empty bedroom.

“No bed?” Eddie noticed the dresser was the only large thing in the U-Haul, no bed already in the bedroom either. He was thinking you’d need a little more help than one thing, he just gained the ability to talk to you. He doesn’t want to leave now.

You’re caught off guard at his question, “Oh! Um, no, it's being delivered tomorrow along with my couch and some other things,” you nod at him.

Confusion takes over his face at your explanation, “Where are you going to sleep tonight?” You have no couch, no bed, he doesn’t see any comfortable place for you to rest. You can’t possibly sleep on the floor, that’d be ridiculous.

You smile at his scrunched up face, appreciating the cute wrinkle in his brow, the concerned brown doe eyes, “That friend I mentioned earlier has an extra bedroom.”

“The flaky friend?” He knows that’s who you mean, but he feels the need to point out that the guy couldn’t show up to help his ‘friend’ with her stuff. And now he’s going to sleep with near you? Eddie feels like fighting this guy and he doesn’t even know him. He realizes his feelings are a bit dramatized, but you look like that!

Your smile widens at his comment, not taking any offense by it, but Steve cuts in before you can respond, “Okay, Eddie you got your answer, come on she probably wants to unpack now,” he gives you a tight lipped smile.

“Well we can’t just do one thing.” Eddie turns around, heading back out to the moving truck full of boxes, “Come on Steve, you could use the workout, Mr. Dad Bod.” He pats Steve’s beer gut causing Steve to smack his hand away.

You rush to follow their quick steps out, “No, you guys don’t have to help! I know you’ve got a party going on,” you gesture to Steve’s backyard, the chattering and the music still going strong. You can hear screaming kids and the splashing of pool water, it sounds like a great time, you’d feel horrible if they wasted such a beautiful day on helping a stranger move in.

Steve’s quick to tilt his head at Eddie who’s currently stacking two boxes onto each other to carry into your house, “Well, she does have a point-”

“Nonsense, Steve,” Eddie glares at him before nodding over his shoulder to the boxes waiting to be brought in, “Now come on, many hands make light work.” He’s already carrying the stacked boxes through your front door.

Steve just nods, resigning himself to helping, you look at him with uncertainty, “Are you sure? You really don’t have to-”

He opens his mouth to speak, picking up a box, but before he gets a word out Eddie’s jogging back, clapping him on the shoulder. “Of course he is, plus this’ll be good because once we get your stuff inside you can come over to the party and have a drink!”

His easy grin is intoxicating as he looks at you, shiny brown eyes alight with excitement, it eases your discomfort immediately. “Sure, I’d love to,” you nod, smiling to yourself as you pick up a box.

Before you can take it inside Eddie pulls it out of your hands. You frown, about to ask him what he’s doing when he reprimands you. “Nope! Ladies aren’t for working, they’re for directing men and lookin’ cute,” he grins, leaning into you for emphasis, then he’s shoving the stolen box onto the one Steve’s already holding.

You scoff at his arbitrary ruling, “But I-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off, “No ‘but’s, now show me where you want these?”

Sighing, you have an amused smile permanently etched onto your face at his insistence on helping you.

Eddie was right, many hands do make light work. The men are done in no time, all the boxes brought into your house and placed in their necessary rooms, ready to be unpacked at your convenience. You’re directing Steve where to put the last box when Eddie comes up behind you holding your vintage Coca-Cola sign.

“You like a lot of old stuff,” he points out, looking between you and the sign. He nearly squealed earlier when he saw your massive framed Metallica tour poster, it was for the Damaged Justice tour back in ‘88, the one he actually went to.

You smile at his comment, appreciating the way his t-shirt sleeves are rolled up to his shoulders, showing off his muscle definition. You can see the many tattoos littering his pale skin, he must lotion himself religiously because they all look great for his age, assuming he got them when he was younger, of course.

Midway through helping you move he had put his hair up in a low bun, his poofy curly locks resting in a knot at the knape of his neck. A few pieces seemed to have fallen free at all the bend and lifting, they’re framing his face so beautifully it makes your mouth salivate. You hope to god he had a hair tie because of how often he puts his hair up, not because he’s got a woman at home.

Only one way to find out.

“Well, what can I say? I like my stuff like I like my men,” you smile sweetly at him, taking the Coke sign from his hands and meeting his eyes, “old.”

You turn around to put the sign back where he found it, you know his eyes are on you, the feeling makes you grin. No man has ever made you feel so powerful, you’re about to turn into a dictator if he doesn’t put you in your place, and god, do you want him to.

Eddie feels like he could run a marathon from the vigor that your comment has instilled in him, he feels twenty-two again. He doesn’t know how this night will go, but he’s praying to his god, that is now you, that he can go home with you.

Steve overhears your flirtatious comment, he sees the felonious hunger in Eddie’s eyes and he’s looking for the fastest exit out of there. He’s had it up to here with the eye fucking happening between you two.

“What’s that?” He perks his head up like he’s hearing something, his voice draws both your and Eddie’s attention, “Yeah, I’ll be right there, honey!” He calls out to his wife as if she was in the other room, not in the backyard next door.

You laugh, meeting the amused eyes of Eddie before looking back at Steve.

Eddie can’t help but fuck with his friend for his poor excuse of an exit plan, “I didn’t hear anything…did you?”

You bite your lip to contain the smile threatening to take over your face at Eddie’s offer to team up against Steve, you shrug impassively, not wanting to poke fun at Steve quite yet.

Steve knows exactly what Eddie’s doing and he could punch him for it, “Yeah, well, you’re not in tune with the vibrational frequencies of a very pregnant wife,” he chastises.

He goes to leave but not before stopping at your front door, turning to face you again, “It was nice to meet you, feel free to come over and join the party if you’d like,” he throws a genuine smile your way.

“Thanks, Steve! And thank you for all your help!”

He nods and then he’s out the door, effectively leaving you all alone with Eddie for the very first time.

Eddie’s watching the door Steve just left out of as you turn a flirty smile towards him, “Is your wife calling you too,” you ask after a beat of silence, an amused tone saturating the question.

Eddie’s eyes reach yours, a small smile on his lips before he shrugs, “Don’t have one.”

It’s a simple answer, but you can never be sure what you’re walking into so you ask what feels like the most logical next question, “Widowed?”

“Single,” he quickly clears up, his eyes watching your every move with rapt attention, trying to see your reaction to the new information. Just like the siren you are, you give nothing away, remaining mysterious and alluring.

Your eyes narrow at him, tilting your head, “Looking?”

“I wasn’t.”

The conversation is like a tennis match, both of you keeping up with unbridled enthusiasm, no clear winner in sight.

You distinctly note the past tense he used to answer your last question. You wonder what he means by that, he wasn’t looking for a relationship? Is he now?

Eddie, on the other hand, is wondering how you’d look in a wedding dress, all pretty and innocent in white. He damns Robin for putting those types of thoughts in his head, always talking about how he should have a wife by now. He feels smug at the thought of showing you off to her, his pretty little wife.

But then reality crashes back through and he’s thinking about that theoretical boyfriend that might not be so theoretical. Sure, you’ve been flirting with him pretty much this whole time, but he doesn’t know what the new generation gets up to. Maybe you and your boyfriend get off on cuckolding, he doesn’t know.

Only one way to find out.

“How about you?” Narrowed eyes copying yours, nodding at you.

“Oh, I just got here. I don’t think anybody’s calling my name,” you smirk, eyes teasing.

Do you want them to, he thinks.

His smirk matches yours as he tilts his head, noting how you dodged the question, he knows you know what he was asking. You’re purposely being difficult, he’s addicted to it, he wants to figure you out and he wants you to make him work for it. You’ve got a head start already, and so far, he’s eating it up. No modern porn or nudie magazines have ever exhilarated him like you are in this moment, and he’s only known you for an hour and a half. Your voice is like an aphrodisiac in and of itself.

“You know what I was asking you,” he mutters, you shiver at the way his voice seems to have dropped an octave.

“I’m browsing,” you flash a flirty smile, an innocent shrug lifting your bare shoulders.

-

Eddie walks with you over to the party, introducing you around to all of the neighbors, he’s enjoying watching you socialize. He feels like he’s learning about you through watching you interact with others, and what he’s learning is he wants you.

You’re so sweet and funny it makes everybody swoon, you’re constantly surrounded by at least five people at a time. He stands close to you, listening to the stories you’re telling, the information you’re sharing about yourself. Your proximity to him intoxicates him. He feels like you’re his, like he brought his new toy to school and all his friends are jealous.

He’s only had two beers, and he feels drunk on the way you crack a joke, get the crowd laughing, then turn to him to see if he, too, is laughing. He’s got a permanent smile etched into his face at the way you throw your head back when you laugh, the way you reach to hold his arm as you giggle. He almost flatlines when he sees you with the kids.

One of the Harrington kids, little Charlotte, comes running to hide behind your legs. She’s clearly avoiding her older brother in a game of tag that has migrated a little too close to the adults. Eddie knows what’s happening, he’s seen it happen many times before. The boys play rough with each other, Charlotte asks to join just because she wants to be included, they chase her down until she’s ‘it,’ and then they spend the rest of the time easily dodging her until she ends up crying to Steve or her mom.

Before Eddie has a chance to reprimand Cameron for narrowly missing crashing his body into yours as he tags Charlotte behind your legs, you’re already leaning down to a pouting Charlotte with an open hand, palm up, a devious smile on your pretty face. You let her tag you so you’re ‘it,’ the minute her little palm slaps yours you turn to Cameron who’s watching incredulously because adults aren’t supposed to play.

You raise your brows at him, a shit-eating grin on your face, shaking your head, “You better run, kid.”

He takes off and you’re flying after him, Eddie can hear Charlotte’s giggle as Cameron screeches, “THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

He watches as you chase the boys around the yard, just absolutely terrorizing them, you successfully tag Cameron who groans dramatically. You shriek and laugh as you run away from him, perfectly juking him as you run around the playset. The other boys start yielding to you, calling you over to run away with them. They’re probably feeling the coolness emanate from your every pore, he thinks.

Eddie grins as he watches you play with the kids, he’s busy wondering if it’s possible to love someone only hours after meeting them when Robin, Steve, and Jess sidle up beside him. They’re all watching as you side shuffle, mirroring the movements of a frustrated Cameron as he tries to tag you, the playset safely dividing you two.

“I told you she’s hot,” Robin smugly punches Eddie’s shoulder making him glare at her, he can’t hold it for long though, eyes quickly going back to watch you with a smile on his face.

“I like her, she’s funny,” Steve nods approvingly.

“I agree, also, she helped avoid a meltdown. That’s wife material right there,” Jess adds, nodding at the way you pick up Charlotte to run with her in your arms away from Cameron, both of you giggling and shrieking.

Eddie has never once wanted kids, he always thought they were far too much work and not enough payout, fearing the inevitable screw up that would lead to years of therapy when they’re adults. He was fond of the Harrington clan, but he was glad to go home to a clean, quiet place. But seeing you play with the kids, the way you involved Charlotte, the way you easily navigated around a sure breakdown, it leaves him in awe.

He always thought kids would be hard, and he knows they are based on the grey hairs on Steve’s head, but he can’t help thinking you’d make it easy. Just like how you made talking easy, joking, flirting, moving heavy stuff, you made everything easy and fun. He stands there watching you, imagining how you’d treat your own kids, the kids he hopes to partake in.

He looks to the side at Jess rubbing her pregnant belly over the sundress she’s wearing, he turns back to you, picturing how you’d look pregnant. How beautiful you’d be in a sundress, how maybe he could convince you to wear nothing underneath, he imagines how distracting your growing breasts would be. The thought makes him gulp, he’s starting to think he’s in too deep already. Maybe just a little.

-

As the sun sets, the pool water chills causing the kids to get out, sleepy from the chlorine. The zombie-like children cause the parents to call it a night, thinning out the herd of the party. Jess has started the nighttime routine for the Harrrrington clan, baths, showers, teeth brushing, storytime, and eventually bedtime.

Steve is grilling a hotdog for you since you missed the food earlier when you were moving in. Robin and Vickie are starting a fire in the fire pit Steve built, Eddie can hear them bickering about whether log cabin style or teepee style would be most efficient.

Eddie’s with you by the ice chest, he opens it to get himself another drink, but he stops as he’s reaching for it. Instead, he turns to you, “Can I get you a beer?”

You shake your head, a polite smile on your face, “No, thank you. Just water for me, please.”

He nods, grabbing a beer for himself and a bottle of water for you, he straightens up to hand it to you before a scary thought comes to mind. As he’s about to place the chilled bottle into your outstretched hand, he freezes, pulling it back to him, “You are old enough to drink, right?”

He looks like he’s holding your water hostage until you answer his question, it makes you laugh, nodding, “Yes, I’m old enough to drink. I’m just not a beer girl.”

He lets out a relieved breath at the confirmation, “Oh thank god.

You take the water he grants you, narrowing your eyes playfully at him as you watch him pop the cap off the bottle using the edge of the ice chest, “How old are you?”

He chuckles at your question, eyes shining with mirth as they meet your playfully suspicious ones, “Older than that Metallica poster you have,” he quips, “I was at that tour.”

You smile at the mention of your Metallica poster, it’s one of your favorite vintage finds.

“Forty-three,” he concedes, “how old are you?” He tilts his chin down as he asks, eyes glued to you, the heat of his gaze makes you feel lightheaded. You decide to blame it on the summer sun, but your plan is dashed when you remember it’s nighttime now.

You try to regain some control, lighten the tension with a joke, “Well, a lady never tells, but I’ll give you a hint,” he raises his eyebrows expectantly, a pleasant smile on his face as he waits for the hint, “it rhymes with twenty-seven.”

He snorts at your set up and how plainly you answered it. He finds himself tilting his head, admiring you fondly. He’s addicted to everything about you, your humor, your flirting, the light touches you occasionally give his arms, the teasing glint to your eyes that never seems to go away.

No woman he met on the shitty dates Robin sent him on could ever compare to you, he’s never met someone who can go toe-to-toe with him when it comes to jokes or bits. He feels like he’s known you all his life, but at the same time he finds himself wishing he knew you sooner.

His thoughts are interrupted as Steve calls you over, he follows you as you grab a paper plate and accept the food from Steve.

“Thank you so much, Steve, I really appreciate you firing up the grill just for me.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you came to the party, you’re a really great addition to the group,” he smiles kindly at you.

His comment makes your heart soar, the feeling of being accepted so quickly warms your heart, “It’s a great group,” you compliment.

His smile broadens, feeling proud of the circle of friends he’s kept over the years. All of a sudden he hears Robin’s loud, “Damn it!”

“Excuse me, I’m gonna go help the cavewomen create fire,” he quips, leaving you to head to the folding table where the condiments sit, right next to Eddie.

Eddie was 100% eavesdropping on your interaction with Steve and he’s glad he was because he feels even more confident that he was meant to meet you, you were meant to be his.

You set your plate down on the table as you reach for the ketchup, you look at Eddie as he watches your hands work, “I like the whole retired rocker look you got going on, by the way,’ vaguely gesturing to his whole body.

Eddie snorts, “Rocker? Yes. Retired? No.”

“Oh, so you have active income then, huh?” You look at him, playfully interested like you’re sizing up a possible sugar daddy.

It makes him laugh, nodding his head, “Yeah, Head Mechanic at the garage off Piedmont. What about you?”

You smile, looking down as you close the cap to the ketchup, “Well, if you must know, my dowry is three goats and five sheep, is that enough for you?”

He feels like he smoked your teasing smirk and got high, he shakes his head fondly at your ability to make a joke out of anything. You’ve made him laugh more times today than he’s laughed in months.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m looking for actually,” his eyes twinkle with mirth.

You grin, “You know I used to have a poster of Kirk Hammett on my wall in high school,” you muse, the memory of the faded poster makes you smile, “I used to worship him, I thought he was the hottest guy I had ever seen…now I’m not so sure.”

Eddie feels warmth flood his veins, all blood rushing south at the thought of you worshipping him instead.

He shakes his head in awe, “I wish you were around when I was in high school, Hawkins women weren’t exactly down with this look,” he looks down at his ripped black jeans, studded belt, and black band shirt.

You lift the hot dog to your mouth, not biting into it just yet, “Oh, I’ll be all over you,” you say quietly, voice sultry as you maintain eye contact, finally opening your mouth and taking a big bite.

Your words, the tone you used, the eye contact, and the way you fit the phallic object into your mouth makes him huff out a sexually frustrated breath. You’ve been teasing him off and on all day and he’s pretty sure it’s making him clinically insane. He knows just what he’d prefer you have in your mouth right about now. He realizes his sanity walked out the door of his mind the second he laid his eyes on you.

You’re chewing your food with a close mouthed smile on your face, the chipmunk cheeks you’re exhibiting are not helping Eddie’s soundness of mind, it only makes him imagine how similar you’d look with his balls in your mouth.

He stutters out a breath, clinging to any shred of decency he can find, “D-Don’t you mean you ‘would have been?’”

You swallow before speaking, your mouth still closed, tongue running over your teeth, a salacious look in your eyes before you innocently smile. “That’s what I said, didn’t I?” You play confused, as if you’re not hunting him, using your best ammunition to take him down.

Eddie gulps, “I live around here,” he nods, eyes never breaking from yours like a trance. “Just three doors down that way,” he throws a thumb over his shoulder pointing in the opposite direction of your new house.

You know exactly what point he’s trying to make. Game, set, match. You win.

You smile, missing the sound of his voice when you push his buttons, “I also happen to live around here,” coyly adding, batting your lashes at him.

He sucks his teeth, eyes daring you to prolong this, “I have a bed.”

Nodding your head at his point, plain and true, “Touché.”

In a matter of moments he’s taking your plate from your hands, putting it down onto the table, grabbing your now free hands and pulling you out of the backyard. He quickly shouts his goodbyes as he passes Steve, Robin, Vickie, and an exhausted Jess rejoining the group.

“Bye guys, thanks for everything, it’s been fun, we gotta do this again, okay, see you later,” it comes out in one single breath, the group looks shocked.

You look back as Eddie pulls you away with such force you’re struggling to keep up with his long strides, “Thank you guys!” You wave at them, an apologetic look on your face.

“Use protection,” Steve shouts before laughing as Jess hits his shoulder. The last thing they see is Eddie’s middle finger as the two of you disappear around the corner of the other neighbor’s house.

“And he said I wasn’t a credible source on who’s hot,” Robin shakes her head feeling incredibly smug.

-

Eddie doesn’t let go of your hand even when he’s fishing into his pocket for his house key. He feels around for the right key on the split rings, pulling the set out once he finds it. Shoving the brass key in the door, he moves to the side to let you in first.

You’re giddy, you can feel how wet your panties are already. The caveman-esque way he pulled you all the way home really worked you up. You giggle at the silly bow he does, emphasizing the open door for you to walk through, “How very honorable of you,” you muse.

He shuffles in after you, flicking on the foyer lights, quickly shutting the door and locking it. He’s not planning on leaving the house for the rest of the night and he’s hoping you won’t either.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna last,” he pulls your arm, spinning you so your back is against the closed door, his hands holding both sides of your head before he pants out, “I’m planning to do some very dishonorable things to you.”

He smashes his lips to yours, a surprised moan escaping you at his desperation. Your open mouth gives him ample opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth eliciting a needy whimper from you. Your knees buckle when his hands slide down to the sides of your neck, he quickly slots his knee between your legs, his body pressing you into the door even more.

He breaks away, huffing out desperate breaths, your head feels hazy, your eyes are glazed over. You feel like you got high from just one kiss, and what a kiss it was.

“Do you want this as much as I do?” The question is breathy, he’s nuzzling his nose with yours, teasing you with an almost-kiss as he waits for your response.

The pull to his lips is so bewitching you can’t speak, only nodding as your head bobs closer to sealing the kiss. Something stops you from completing it, it’s like you’re waiting for him to do it, you’re waiting for his direction, his ‘okay.’

“Use your words,” he chastises you, you whimper, shrinking at his intensity, subconsciously lower your hips to let your clothed, aching pussy meet his thigh in an attempt to relieve the tension. When he feels what you’re doing he straightens up, pulling his leg away despite your desperate whimper trying to call the sensation back. “Tell me, do you want me as much as I want you?”

“Yes! God, yes! Please,” you whine, needing him to touch you all over, you need his thigh back.

“Yeah, you wanted me right from the start didn’t you, honey?” He tilts his head, hungry eyes roving over your pleading face. You practically preen at the delicate touch he dances across your cheek, reaching to affectionately smooth your pretty hair as he waits for you to muster up the power to respond.

“Mhm,” your eyes roll back as his rough hand travels from your hair to your jaw, holding you firm, he pulls your attention back to him.

“Flirted with me so openly, didn’t you, dirty girl?” A grin stretches across his face at the sudden embarrassment you show, mortified at being called out for your actions. You look so cute, squirming, trying to avoid his eyes despite his strong grip on your jaw leaving you very little room to look elsewhere.

“I just wanted you…,” you mutter, eyes not meeting his condescending look, he’s pouting at you, mocking your embarrassment.

“Well you got me, sweetheart. What did you wanna do with me?” He leans in to nose his face against yours, hypnotically drawing your lips in again, but never granting you a kiss. No, kisses are for good girls who answer questions.

You shrug, any confidence you had from your earlier flirting is nonexistent, the power he holds over you is too great. He’s all consuming, he’s everything you see, everything you feel, everything you smell, everything you hear, everything you taste.

“Can I tell you what I wanna do with you?”

Eagerly nodding, you’re thankful he let you off the hook with the question.

“I wanna marry you.” His face is all you can see, not a doubt in his eyes at what he just said, no freudian slip to be found.

Your stomach drops, that wakes you right up out of your love drunk haze. He should bottle those words and sell them to single women, they’d beat out the entire market of smelling salts. Your eyes are wide, your jaw dropped, you can’t believe what he just said. You just met him today and he’s apparently already sold on you. You have to admit, it is flattering to have a man want to marry you right after meeting you, you can’t say that’s ever happened to you before.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same, throughout the day you had suffered daydreams of yearly summer barbecues, a king sized bed for two, cooking meals together, group dates with Steve, Jess, Robin, and Vickie. Afflicted with thoughts of pretty rings and curly haired, brown eyed children. But you shoved them down deep into a locked box, chaining the lid shut just in case.

Now here Eddie is, pinning you against the front door of his house, kissing you breathless, picking the lock to the box filled with illicit daydreams.

He reads the shock on your face, not swayed by the reaction because he knows you’re meant to be his. He knows you won’t get married today, and maybe not tomorrow, but it will happen. There’s no way it won’t, he’s certain.

He doesn’t need your words, he doesn’t want to hear what you stumble to say in response to his profession, no amount of obfuscation from you will convince him you’re not his.

“But in terms of right this moment,” he elaborates, “I’m gonna fuck you.”

You feel like you have whiplash, his words go straight to your pussy, you feel yourself clenching around nothing. You have no words, your jaw has not picked back up since he said he wants to marry you.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?” He tilts his chin down, eyes trapping you in an obscene staring contest.

You nod, letting out a breathy, “Please.” The need for him is starting to drive you insane.

“Good,” is all he says before he’s picking you up bridal style and carrying you up the stairs, grinning at you. You squeal in surprise at his actions, arms settling around his neck, holding on for dear life.

“I can walk, you know!” You’re terrified he’s going to drop you, but you did see him do a bunch of manual labor today and you can’t lie, he is strong.

“Ladies shouldn’t have to walk,” he admonishes, the same tone as when he scolded you for trying to move your own boxes earlier, you shake your head at his endearingly incessant need to do things for you. “And hopefully you won’t be able to when I’m done with you.”

His dirty comment makes you scoff, playfully hitting his shoulder, “You know for how much you talk about what ladies should and shouldn’t do, you certainly don’t talk to one properly.”

He grins as he sets you down onto his soft duvet, caging you in with his thick, tattooed forearms as he leans over you, eyes leering, “I can talk to you properly,” he admits, “or I can fuck you properly.”

Your breath stutters, eyes bouncing from his deadly gaze to his soft lips before ending back at his eyes.

He shrugs, lightheartedly saying, “Your choice.”

Nodding with a bite to your lip, “I’ll take option number two,” you breathily mutter.

With a grin he leans down to give you a chaste kiss, “Thought so.”

He goes to pull away from the kiss, but you pull him back, languid tongue dancing across his bottom lip before he allows you entrance. Your fingers inch into the curly locks of hair as you messily makeout with him, you feel him kneel onto the bed, settling between your legs. You blindly reach behind his head, untangling the hair tie from his hair, giving the roots a tug which earns you a pussy clenching groan from him.

He breaks away to pull your tank top over your head, a newfound fervor to see you naked, his own shirt follows suit. You sit up a little to help him peel the fabric off, opting to take your bra off while you’re up. He turns slightly to throw both tops to the corner of the room near the laundry basket, when he turns back his jaw drops at the sight of your bare breasts. You make him feel like a teeanger all over again, he feels like he could bust in his jeans just at the sight of your half-naked body.

“Fuckkkk,” he groans, hands groping your chest. “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, baby, been lookin’ at them all day.”

You moan at the rabid touch of his needy hands, the fire in your veins making you so sensitive to his every squeeze and grope. He pushes your breasts together, leaning down to attach his greedy mouth to one of your perked nipples. His lithe tongue circles the sensitive nub before giving it a light bite. That action earns him a pornographic moan birthed right from your parted lips. He mouths at the one nipple before moving onto the other one, his thumb toying with the one he just left.

When he nips at the second one you instinctively tug his hair eliciting a muffled groan from him, his mouth full of your tit. You can feel how hard he is, his hips grinding into your thigh for relief. The imprint of his hard cock is making you impatient, you just want to feel him inside you now, you want to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. You moan at the nonstop attention to your peaked nipples, the thought of how it’ll feel when the head of his cock pierces your entrance and the relief that will wash over you leads you to pull his head off of your tits.

When he gazes up at you, he’s got a fucked out look on his face like he was getting off just from sucking on your tits, you can even see a string of saliva connecting his wet lips to your chest. The sight of his slobber on your breasts, the blooming of accidental hickies on the sensitive skin makes you whine.

“Eddie, please, I need you.” He nods, immediately working down your body, kissing and licking any skin he can reach.

His hands are shaky with need as he unbuttons your shorts, working them down your legs. He moves to kiss your thighs, assessing exactly where he’s going to leave bite marks when you put your hands on his shoulders, effectively halting his movements. He looks up at you, concerned he did something wrong already.

Your brows are furrowed, you know what he wants, but you don’t think this is the right time. “Eddie, I’ve been in the hot sun all day…”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, he’s trying to read your face because he doesn’t understand why you’re bringing that up. So was he, he was with you, all day. Are you just saying true facts about your day? He doesn’t think now is the time to do that, but if that’s what you want to do he’ll oblige. Weird foreplay, but to each their own, he thinks.

“I cheated at cornhole,” he admits earnestly.

You frown at him, what the fuck is he talking about? He looks so genuine, it makes you laugh, “What?”

Okay, now he’s very confused, his arms are still resting on your doughy thighs, his elbows just outside both of your legs, leaning his real weight onto the bed. “What what?”

You shake your head at him, an amused look overtaking your face, “I just mean I got kinda sweaty playing tag with the kids…,” you look at him hoping he gets it, but when you see zero recognition in his eyes you continue. “I don’t think now is the time for you to-,” you can’t bring yourself to say it, embarrassment taking over.

Thankfully though, Eddie finally catches on. He’s relieved you’re not actually into the weird foreplay of revealing truths because he doesn’t want to tell you about the boner he got from watching you eat a hotdog.

“Oh! No,” he waves a dismissive hand, “honey, that's what I like to call seasoning,” he grins, leaning toward you as he says it.

His wandering fingers inch under the elastic at the top of your hips, preparing to pull your panties down, but you stop him again with your concerned words.

“But I’m not-,” a frustrated breath leaves your lips. You’re frustrated, not at his actions, no, but at the feeling of having to preface this in the case that he pulls your panties down and hates what he sees, or god forbid, tastes. “I’m not…trimmed…or anything.”

He looks at you like you just told him the most ridiculously stupid thing ever, he shakes his head, a frown clear and present in his eyes and on his face. “Baby, I was around in the 70s,” he implores, “I might not have been sexually active then, but I was still stealing my uncle’s nudie magazines. I’ve seen a few things, explored a few jungles in my time,” a smile creeps up his lips.

You roll your eyes at his crass terminology, feeling a pinch to your heart at the thought of him with other women.

“I earned my forestry badge, okay? So let me in there!” His eyes are shining with amusement, enjoying the cringe his words bring you. You’ll get used to how nasty he can be, it’s only down from here, he was on his best behavior today. He starts pulling your panties down when you speak up again.

“Eddie-”

“If you try to make up another excuse to keep me from this pretty little pussy I will gag you with your own panties,” his stern voice cuts you off, eyes dangerous as he reprimands you. You immediately close your mouth, your eyes wide, he’s got your full attention now. “I don’t know what boys you’ve been fucking, but only ra real man deserves such a perfect cunt, and I’m Him. You understand me?”

His confidence makes even more arousal flood your already damp panties, you’re about ready to let him do anything he wants to your body. You nod quickly, granting him access, breath quickening as he yanks your underwear off before stuffing them into his back pocket. He rubs his face against your thighs and you shiver at the scratchy stubble. Your pussy’s pumping out slick like it knows Eddie’s huge, sure to give you all the natural lube it can for when he fucks you.

He nuzzles into the wiry curls on your mound, your breath catches when you feel a suck of air, realizing he just took a deep whiff. You’re too turned on at this point to be embarrassed, your arousal is dripping from your needy hole, you feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t touch you in the next five seconds. When he noses the hair guarding your slit, a lock of long, brown, curls fall in front of him.

He lets go of your thighs to reach for your hands, pulling them into his hair, making you hold the curls into a makeshift ponytail that will double as a rein. If you had known he’d be going down on you you wouldn’t have taken his bun out, but it’s too late now, you have no idea where the hair tie is.

When your hands are securely in his hair he takes one arm and wraps it around your thigh from underneath, guiding your leg over his shoulder and holding it hostage. He takes the other hand and rests his arm lightly on your pelvis to part your pussy lips from above, he leans in to give a long lick with a flat tongue, just getting a taste for you. He moans at the flavor, you have no idea just how much he doesn’t care that you were out in the sun sweating all day. He feels like he could cum just from the tangy taste dancing on his tongue.

You moan at the feel of the wet muscle, it feels like you can finally breathe when he explores your folds. You’ve wanted him all day, burned for him for hours on end, and just like a cool drink of water- he’s quenching your thirst.

He gives quick flutter licks to your hole, just teasing you to get a reaction. It doesn’t disappoint, you’re whining, hips gyrating with need. He alternates between light pressured licks to your clit and plunging his tongue as deep as he can into your tight hole. He’s got you breathing heavy in no time, his fingers squeeze the fat of your thighs as he grinds his pulsing cock into the bed. You let out a pathetic mewl when he speeds up his actions, licking you like you’re ice cream, your hips occasionally jump when his nose catches your clit.

You can feel your hole clenching around nothing, needing just a little more to get you there, the dull ache building in your stomach. “M-More, please, I need more,” you cry out.

He’s more than happy to oblige, the hand that had been spreading your lips moves under his body, you feel a thick finger breach your entrance and it makes your hips jump and stomach clench. The sound of your moans and his dexterous fingers plunging into your drenched cunt fill the room. It makes him groan, the vibrations from it causing you to whimper.

“Oh p-please, oh god, I’m so close, please Eddie,” you whine, bucking your hips against his face.

He thrusts his finger in and out before adding another to stretch your tightening hole, you moan at the fit. He nods his head up and down on your pussy, licking messily, then he’s vigorously shaking his head side to side in your folds, slurping your juices up.

The lewd sound pushes you right to the precipice of your orgasm, “Eddieee!” The squeal you let out has him chuckling, you can’t help but interpret it as condescending and that only makes you clench tightly around his fingers, inching you even closer to your peak.

At the feeling of your walls tightening around his fingers he moves his tongue to make quick, tight circles around your clit causing you to tumble over the edge practically screaming. Seeing stars and desperate for nonstop pressure to work you through your climax, you shove his face against your pussy. You’re pressing hard, in need of all encompassing pleasure, in need of his cock inside your pulsing hole.

You’re basically grinding your cunt on his face and it has his hips jerking into the bed, wishing he was inside you already. The feel of your velvety walls squeezing his fingers in pulsing intervals has him moaning at the thought of you doing that around his cock. He can’t wait anymore, he pulls his fingers out once you come down from your high, shoving them into his mouth and relishing in the taste of your cum.

You’re too busy catching your breath, never having experienced such an all-consuming orgasm like that before. You feel like you’re floating when you feel him hover over you again, his hungry eyes looking borderline felonious the way they rove over your face. You look down between your bodies, noticing he’s fully naked now, hard, leaking cock hanging just above where you need him most.

You nearly gulp at the sight of him, he felt big when you felt him against your leg earlier, but this is a lot. He’s the biggest you’ve ever taken and you’re not sure if you can take him. The way his length bobs when he shuffles forward feels like a threat, you must look concerned because he leans down to give you a chaste kiss.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll make it fit,” he smoothes the hair by your temple, the soft actions and his dirty words make you preen, a whimper leaving your mouth.

“Do you want me to put on a condom?” He didn’t do it on the off chance that you’d let him inside you raw, the thoughts of you pregnant whispering in his mind. He’s being driven insane by visions of his cum leaking out of your stretched out hole, the sight of you carrying his child, the way he’d take you from the back as your big bump rests on the bed beneath your arched body.

Your eyes are wide, suddenly feeling like a virgin at the prospect of fitting all of him inside you. You’re certainly not, but he makes you feel so small, so taken care of, you feel like you need him bare inside you. You need to know what it feels like, you’ll worry about the consequences later. Famous last words.

You shake your head, pouting lips parted as you huff, all desperate and needy, your chest moves up and down, coaxing a nip from him. You mewl at the quick attention to your breasts.

He looks up at your face from your chest, “No?”

He got it the first time when you shook your head, but he’s having so much fun treating you like you’re glass. It's like you're his sweet, innocent baby—his cute little neighbor needing him to talk her through it. You shake your head again, confirming your previous sentiment.

“You want me to cum inside you, honey?” He coos, he can’t help the way he talks down to you, you make it so easy with your wet, pleading eyes. His question seems to work on you because you whimper, enthusiastically nodding your head, hands needy as you try to pull his body toward your open legs. He lets you pull him closer, but that’s about as much as he lets you do.

“Wanna feel you- please,” you whine at his resistance to get any closer, your nails dig into his sides as you try to pull him exactly where you need him most.

He chuckles at your pleading, his amusement quickly halts, though, when you reach between your bodies, hand encircling his rock hard cock, guiding it to your hole. He’s quick to grab your hands and pin them above your head, a stern reprimand leaving his lips, “Be good.”

You whimper again, rolling your hips against nothing, searching for release.

“I choose when I fuck you, got it?”

You nod your head vigorously, eager to please him after getting in trouble.

“That goes for after this, too, you understand?” He looks into your eyes expectantly, expression firm, his lips remain in a thin line.

“Yes, sir! Please- I’ll be good!” You beg, signing on to be his whenever he needs a release. You’ll be a ready, open hole, with pleasure. The ‘sir’ just slipped out, but you’re glad it did because he seemed to like it.

“You gonna let me fuck you raw,” your quick nod answering his question, “You want me to breed your tight little pussy, baby?” You let out an uncontrollable moan, you’d be embarrassed at how whorish you sound if you had any shame left.

“Please breed me, I want your cum, sir- please!” You cry out, rolling your hips again, seeking out his waiting cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, you’re pleading is breaking him down. He reaches for his cock, leaving both your wrists to remain pinned by his one hand. He guides the ruddy tip to your soaked, pulsing hole, rubbing up and down your slit, gathering all your wetness onto his cock. The movement earns him another moan that would put pornstars to shame, you’re thankful for the small relief it brings the coiling need in your stomach, but you crave more.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you, honey?”

Forget the fact that you just met him today, you’d sign onto anything he suggested as long as you get to do this with him again, as long as you get to hold him at the end of the day. It doesn’t hurt that these sweet nothings, well- dirty nothings, are feeding every fantasy you had today. Especially the one you had at the sight of him holding the littlest Harrington, the way his tattooed arms held the baby girl. His thick forearm a seat for the little bundle of joy, his large hands softly patting her back as he bounced and rocked her on his chest.

“Yes, please put a baby in me, Eddie! I need you- I just- please, god, please!” You’re bordering on incoherent at this point, it makes him smile, taking mercy on your fried brain.

He pushes the fat head of his cock past your entrance, the stretch is so tight you can feel where your walls cling to him once the mushroom tip pops inside you. You cry out at the feeling, desperately refraining from rolling your hips onto him, you don’t want him to take away what little he’s given you.

“Alright, honey,” he breathes out, trying to pace himself and not blow his huge load inside of you at just the tip, “I’ll give you a baby, but only because you begged for it.”

The moment the last word leaves his mouth he thrusts all the way into you, knocking the air out of your chest, your loudest moan yet rings out around the room. He groans at the way your gummy walls nearly choke his thick cock, his head falls beside yours as he breathes through the all-consuming feeling. The hand that isn’t holding your wrists trails up the side of your body, groping your tit as he tries to calm down.

When he’s certain he won’t cum too soon, he starts a bruising pace, muttering out curses at the way your moans sync with the pulsing of your pussy. “Fuck, honey, this the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt.”

You moan at his words, taking it as a compliment, mind reeling at the feel of every ridge, every bump, every throbbing vein of his massive cock. You’re letting out uncontrollable, ‘unh unh unh unh’s at the deep, penetrating thrusts he gives you, lips permanently parted at his intrusion.

The constant panting and moaning in his ear is pushing him nearly over the edge, he ravenously attacks your neck, tongue gliding over it, biting and kissing the sensitive skin. He knows he’s too close to stop now so he continues his punishing pace, reaching down with his free hand to rub your clit.

He circles your clit only once before you’re thrown off the edge of your second orgasm, your mouth is uncontrollable, you’re spewing the nastiest shit he’s ever heard and it gets him there.

“Fuck,” your voice is a high pitched whine, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck meee!”

“Please, god, OH!”

“Cum inside me, breed me, please, sir, please- fuck your fucking cum inside me unhhh!”

He groans, hips faltering as he jerks forward repeatedly. His stomach is clenching as he spills rope after thick rope of his milky white, hot cum into you.

You’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath as he settles on top of you, shivering from the power of his orgasm. He’s never cum that hard before, he feels like his spirit has separated from his body, only vaguely aware of his throbbing cock still inside you. His hand loosens, letting your wrists go, your arms move to wrap him into a warm embrace. You pet his sweaty hair, your other hand lightly scratching his damp back.

When his spirit floats back down into his body he feels like he’s in heaven, the way you hold him like he’s so delicate, it’s such a contrast to the roles you both fell into earlier. His cock is softening and he can feel it slipping out of your used hole, it makes him gently pull away, allowing his cock to fall out of you fully. You watch him as he looks down at your messy pussy, he smiles at the way your hole clenches, the muscles still working through the power of your orgasm. The intermittent constriction of your walls pushes his cum out of you, he watches as it creeps down to your ass.

You gasp as you feel him collect his own spend, pushing it back into your quivering hole. When he removes his fingers, they’re covered in a mix between his cum and your juices, you grab his wrist and pull his fingers into your mouth. Moaning at the taste of the spunky combination, you stare him down with the heat of a thousand burning suns in your sultry eyes.

His mouth falls open as he watches you, his soft cock jumps at the view, in a flash he’s reaching under your ass, propping you up against his thighs. He’s got your hips angled up to the ceiling, you laugh at the sharp movement, loving how he manhandles you.

“What-”

“I wasn’t kidding before, I’m making this shit stick.” You realize he’s angled you so his cum won’t leave your pussy, it’ll just pool in your hole. He’s hoping to go one for one, but he has no problems trying again. You’re going to have his baby, he’s going to make sure of it. He meant it before, but after seeing you lick the mix of juices off his fingers he’s thinking about where the nearest ring shop is.

You laugh at the serious look in his eyes, biting your lip as you flirt, “Which one is it? What’s first, a baby or marriage?” You smile at his inability to figure out what he should do first, his words and thoughts contradicting himself throughout the night.

“Both,” he grins, leaning down to kiss you like it’s the last time. You know it isn’t

A/N: the way they didn’t use protection after Steve told them to, smh. Also, yes, she has his baby, yes, they get married, yes, he’s insatiable, yes, Steve and Robin make fun of him endlessly, yes, he gets called a cradlerobber and other things by them.

Like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed. Comments, especially, encourage me to get nastier wit it.

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