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forays-into-fiction · 1 year

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can i borrow your bed? part III

part i - part ii

summary: you've taken to keeping your toy at eddie's place -- since it's the only place you use it. one night, when he's awake and horny, he decides to try it out.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut for smut's sake. perv!eddie, which means he steals panties as well as inappropriate glances of reader. use of a dildo. masturbation (m and mentions of f) mentions of anal play. mentions of oral (m receiving) and tit fucking.

a/n: it's been a very long time since a touched on this series! (i feel like it's my seminal work? like if you haven't read this series you don't know this blog.) i kept this one short and sweet! this is kind of a more... part 1.5? it takes place between part i and part ii. anyway, enjoy you little pervs.

taglist: @ghoul-lily, @ladydovahkiin180, @sage111222, @catramoon, @merlyagrindelwald, @hahahaeddiemunson , @l0ve-s1ckn3ss, @inkedaztec, @pedroswh0r3, @hateqlt, @faffacake, @brattypeony, @bietchz, @froglivr, @strangeh0rizons, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @hellfirehope, @eddiethesexy, @eddiemunsonslips, @angelbbygrl, @took-me-hours-to-steal-those, @lightmelikeamatch, @lulukings92, @my-tin-can-mans, @apricotpopsicle, i'm so sorry if any of your urls changed since part ii came out, i thought you may be interested <3

Shameful. Pathetic. Disgusting. Creepy.

That was how Eddie felt every night when he laid in bed, the thought of you making him ache.

You were his best friend. You trusted him, leaned on him, confided in him.

You fucked yourself every week on his bed with your new toy.

Jesus Christ, I'm going to hell.

That was a given; Eddie the Freak Munson was going to hell, and he'd probably be the Devil's guest of honour. It had started off small -- innocently, he'd lied to himself. Stealing glances at your tits or ass when any other hot-blooded man would. It wasn't his fault that he wanted you; just like it wasn't your fault that your tits sometimes spilled over your top or the wind picked your skirt up just enough for him to glimpse the lacy edge of your panties. That, at least, he could justify.

Then he stole your panties. You'd been over at Steve's house to swim, and you'd left your clothes in the bathroom. And they were so cute, so sexy, smelled so good -- God, he'd felt like such a perv when the urge to sniff them washed over him. But once he'd given in and done it, he couldn't stop.

That was three pairs of panties ago; he couldn't steal any more without raising suspicions, and to his credit he had returned them. (Once he was done with them, of course.) He'd stolen your necklace. Your bras. A photo of you at the beach in a bikini. But inanimate objects started to become... not enough anymore.

You'd gotten the lead in the school play during your senior year, and while you changed in one of the tiny closets-turned-dressing-rooms he'd "accidentally" walked in on you. The image of your bare back, the suggestive slope of your breast, the way your hands squished your tits when you hurried to cover up -- he kept that in the back of his head, vivid, just for nights like tonight.

But nothing was helping him. Not the memory of that night in the dressing room, or the remembered feeling of when he'd stopped short to let a squirrel cross the street and his arm had shot out to stop you from jolting forward, his arm brushing your tits. Not even remembering the night when he acted a little drunker than he was so you'd let him snuggle up to you could get him there.

All because you'd taken to masturbating with that fucking noisy vibrator in his bed. Nothing -- no fabricated encounter or half-baked imagining -- could compare to the thought of you laying right where he was and pumping that thing in and out of yourself.

Eddie gripped his cock in one hand and had the other hand over his eyes. He needed sleep. He needed to cum. He needed images of you dancing around his head to either do their job or disappear. He'd considered pulling out a porn magazine from under his bed, but those old pictures meant nothing to him now. Not since having the real thing dangling in front of him like a carrot on a stick. It wasn't your fault; you weren't teasing him. That was the worst part: you didn't even realize how he felt. How he took everything you did and twisted it in his sick, little mind and made it sexual.

Eddie groaned and sat up, uncovering his eyes. The head of his cock was an angry red. Each time his fingers rasped over it, he winced. Should he waste another pump of lotion? Or just roll over and try to sleep? He'd already spent twenty minutes rutting into his mattress.

Eddie reached into his bedside dresser drawer to pull out a bottle of lube.

"Fuck," he hissed when he found it empty. He tossed it back into the drawer.

He flopped back into his pillows and lolled his head to the side. Maybe he'd just stay up all night.

It was purple. A gaudy, vibrant purple -- not too big, not enough to shame or intimidate him. Slender, and curved so that it could reach everywhere your fingers couldn't.

You'd left your toy there for convenience. Why keep lugging it around? Especially if you two were going out together to a restaurant or the movies. You'd always been afraid that you'd go for your wallet and it would flop out in front of everyone. So there it was, in Eddie's bottom drawer, along with a box of condoms (open, used three times, and one of those times was just trying one on) and an (empty) bottle of lube, which he'd placed in there mostly to impress you.

... No... That'd be going too far...

But would it? You cleaned it every time you used it. Eddie had been your saviour, giving you a place to have fun. Why couldn't he have some fun, too? It wasn't like he was going to shove it up his ass; he didn't have any lube, and just wanted to know how it felt. Was that so bad?

No. No, Eddie told himself and he grabbed it and held it up to study, it wasn't so bad. So easily convinced when it came to you.

He turned it on to the lowest setting and ran the tip experimentally over himself, tracing from base to head. He shuddered at the tingles that ran through him. He bit his lower lip, grasping it and his cock in one hand, pressing it against himself as he gently tugged at his dick.

Eddie let out a shaky sigh. He couldn't stop staring at it as it buzzed. Knowing that you'd come by just that afternoon and fucked yourself with it. As the silicone warmed up, he imagined it was still hot from your pussy. He upped the vibrations and laid it against his balls, the buzzing surging through the most sensitive parts of him, tickling his belly, his back, his thighs.

He bent his knees, keeping the toy in place as he put one hand behind his head and lazily stroked his cock with the other. Eddie shut his eyes, imagining you were kneeling there on his bed, using the toy on him. Maybe you'd tie his hands up so he couldn't resist. So you could have total control.

Eddie spat in his hand and rolled his palm over the head of his cock before increasing his pace, biting his lower lip. You'd lay the toy down over his balls just like he did, then bend over and take him into your mouth. Or maybe you'd push his cock between your tits, shivering as the vibrations tickled at your nipples. You'd gasp and moan and wiggle your hips in search of friction. Eddie's hips bucked, imagining sinking into your hot, tight pussy, hearing the lewd squelch of your wet, sticky folds.

Eddie gasped as the toy slipped between his legs, falling deliciously against his tight hole, teasing the entrance.

"Fuck," he ground out, thrusting up into his fist. "God, you feel so good..."

His breath caught in his lungs as sudden warmth filled his lower belly. His cock twitched in his hand. Eddie squeezed on the upstroke, and his hips moved to grind against the toy. He reached down, flicking it to its highest setting.

"Oh, god, fuck, c-cumming..." he rasped as if you were there. In his mind, you begged him to fill you up.

Heat spurted over his bare belly, balls tightening as he came with a guttural groan. As soon as he came, the vibrations became too much. He shut the toy off and let it lay against his throbbing cock as he came down from his high.

Eddie's first, clear thought when he opened his eyes made him chuckle to himself.

I gotta get one of these.

#fic rec #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie

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forays-into-fiction · 1 year

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st guys x older women

part one - part three (coming soon)

part two: steve x older!reader

summary: steve's dad introduces him to his new secretary, by whom he's immediately enthralled. but when his dad is particularly cruel to him, you decide to keep steve late at the office and make him feel better.

warnings: 18+, minors dni. nsfw. use of y/n. oral (m and f receiving). unprotected sex. steve's dad is mean to him :( age difference

a/n: part two of a three part series involving eddie, steve, and billy getting involved with older women, bc i’m tired of seeing them paired with younger women constantly. based on this text post. enjoy!

taglist: @evansflowers @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @local-stoner-bitch

want to be tagged in the next part? reply below!

"Aw, your dad forgot his lunch."

Mrs. Harrington didn't even finish her sentence before Steve was out of his seat with his keys.

Normally, he'd prefer to let the asshole starve. She may not have been the most attentive, but at least his mother made the man lunch every day; the least he could do was remember to grab it from the fridge before he left. Steve knew he'd never learn his lesson; takeout was common at the office, and his mother would never say anything. That hadn't stopped him from shrugging and saying, "Oh, well." in the past.

This time, you stopped him.

The first time he'd seen you, it had been at the office's holiday party. Steve had done a few odd jobs for the company that fall, and they'd allowed him to come and enjoy the festivities, which took place at a fancy hotel in the nearest town.

"This is a big deal, son," his father had told him. "You could make good connections there."

Connections with stuffy old men with their stuffy old jobs. Not the kind of life Steve wanted to lead. So he stayed in the corner, sipping at his drink, listening to a jazz piano rendition of Santa Baby. And then, there you were.

Your dress was red and shimmering. Black heels accentuated long legs, and you had a pin in your hair shaped like a sprig of holly. People surrounded you; enraptured in whatever you said, laughing when you laughed -- God, Steve wanted to bottle that sound, he felt so drunk off of it. His father was beside you. One hand on your arm, the other holding his drink while gesturing for Steve to come over.

"Come on, son, meet my new secretary, Y/N!"

That was over a year ago. Now Hawkins was in the throes of summer, and Steve practically groaned in relief when he stepped into the air-conditioned office building. The secretary up front let him up to his dad's wing, where you sat behind a desk typing, filing, and transferring away. The second he entered the room, Steve worried that bringing lunch would just annoy you; that your boss' stupid son was giving you yet another task when you already had so many.

But when the door shut behind him and you looked up, you smiled. Maybe you gave that smile to everyone who came in. Steve held up his father's lunch pail.

"Again?" you giggled.

Steve nodded solemnly as he approached the desk. "What can I say? The man's got a lot on his mind."

"Don't I know it." You gestured to the piles of paperwork around you, only halfway organized into cardboard boxes. "He just handed me these this morning, to be alphabetized and then sent downstairs to storage. Problem is, I can only carry one box at a time and the guys down in maintenance won't lend me the cart because it's theirs."

"What? Who are you talking to down there? Lewis? Give me ten minutes and I'll have the cart up here."

Steve set the lunch pail down on the desk and moved to leave, but your hand wrapped around his wrist. Your grip was light, but it was as if you had Steve chained there. He froze, gaze dropping to where you touched him, then darting back up to meet your eyes.

"You don't have to do that, really."

"There's no way you're gonna be done this by the end of the day. And knowing my dad, he wants it done today, right?" You nodded. "Yeah, I'm getting you that cart. And you're not taking them down to storage, either; maintenance should be doing that for you. I'll do it."

"Steve..."

He practically melted when you said his name. Luckily, you let go of his wrist, so his senses weren't entirely overwhelmed. He just shot you an award-winning smile.

"I have the day off, Y/N. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

You pursed your lips, then sank back into your seat, smiling. Steve nearly ran into the door on his way out, he was in such a hurry. He felt a little pathetic, wanting to please you so badly. But you had to deal with his father every day; it was the least he could do.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, you still had a handful of boxes left, only three of which were filled. Steve had been at it for the better part of the afternoon, stopping only to go out and get the two of you lunch and some coffee. You stopped suddenly, biting your lower lip, hands on your hips as you scrutinized the mess of papers. Steve sat on the floor, slotting files into the appropriate boxes. He glanced up at you. Or rather, he tried to; his gaze got caught on your legs, dragged up to your pencil skirt, then meandered up your blouse to your face.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm gonna be here until eight." It wasn't a guess; Steve could tell from the finality in your tone that you knew from experience. "I still have some administrative work to do," you explained. "That, plus finishing this, equals a late night."

"How about I finish this, and you get on with your usual work?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Putting files in alphabetical order? How hard can it be?" He hoped you hadn't noticed him reciting his ABC's under his breath every time he needed to figure out where a file went.

"You know you're not getting paid for this, right?" you laughed as you went back to your seat.

Steve just lifted a shoulder. "And you don't get paid enough. Besides, you're not terrible to spend time with."

"Wow. I think I might want that engraved on my tombstone."

Steve's chuckle died in his throat when the door behind your desk opened. His father emerged with a suitcase in hand. He frowned at his son.

"Still at it, I see."

Steve nodded. "By the time we're gone, I'll be able to find you any file you need without even looking at the box."

His father didn't laugh at that. His face remained stony, cool.

"I'm just glad to see you applying yourself a little. I'd rather you not be sat on the floor like a toddler, but at least you're not at the ice cream parlour in that... ridiculous sailor uniform."

"Ice cream parlour?" you asked, peeking out from behind his father.

"Scoops Ahoy, in Starcourt Mall," Steve told you.

"Oh, are you saving up for school?"

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but his father beat him to it.

"No, Steve wasn't accepted to any of the colleges he applied to. Which is why he's scooping ice cream." He glanced back at you. "You could learn something from Y/N, Steve; a college education got her this job, and look at you, doing it for her. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

Steve couldn't help but wince as his father stepped over him and out the door. You waited until his father's footfalls faded down the hall.

"Ow. That wasn't very nice of him."

"Yeah, well, he's still disappointed in me. I think I actually preferred it when he was angry with me."

You crossed your arms and frowned. "I don't care how disappointed he is; you don't speak to your kid that way."

Kid. Steve shoved the next file in particularly harshly. You and him fell into silence then -- tense at first, then slowly unfurling into something more comfortable. You hunkered down at your desk, and the hours passed.

When Steve returned from the last trip to storage, the lights were out, your purse was on your desk, but you weren't there. He stepped into the foyer behind your desk and peeked into a couple of the small offices. Lights out, empty. He made his way to the back, to his father's office. It was the largest out of them all. It was dark except for a lamp on his massive mahogany desk, where a large, black leather office chair sat beckoning him.

Steve could hear you shuffling around in a smaller compartment on the other side of the room. He went to the chair and sat, groaning a little as his back finally relaxed after hours of lifting and heaving. He tipped his head back and shut his eyes.

"Tired?" you asked.

Steve nodded.

"I'm sorry. Thanks for helping me, I really appreciate it."

"S'no big deal. Just wish someone could see me trying and not make it about going to college."

When Steve opened his eyes, you were leaning against the side of his father's desk, your expression pitying.

"I don't think he realizes young men need someone to build them up, not tear them down."

"He thinks I need tough love. Says his father did the same for him."

You scoffed. "Do you really want to be just like him, Steve?"

"I mean, look at what he has." He gestured around you. "Cushy job in a huge office, high pay, gorgeous secretary..." You giggled, and he shot you a grin. "But the way he talks about it, I don't think it's within my reach at this point."

You walked around the desk so that you stood in front of Steve, and leaned back a little against its edge. Steve turned the chair so that he was facing the adjacent wall -- and you couldn't see how he tensed his hands, trying not to look at the way your thighs squished against the desk. He lolled his head to the side, gazing up at you.

"Can you picture yourself here? With a suitcase and tie? Not even having to deal with Lewis from maintenance because it's beneath you? Mr. Harrington?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Steve; I know you have a good imagination from the way you stare at me."

He gulped, the smile vanishing from his face. You kept smiling, though. Confident. Certain. Absolutely steady as you grasped the arm of the chair and spun it so that he faced you.

"I think you can have everything he has and more. All you need is a little encouragement."

You stepped forward, one hand on either armrest, and leaned down a little. Steve could see down your blouse, to the black lace cupping your tits. He didn't realize you'd said something else until your hand was on his chin, guiding his gaze back up to your face.

"Huh?"

"I said, do you want that?"

He nodded, and you smiled in a wicked, feline way. You stood back up.

"Do you even know what you're agreeing to?"

He shook his head.

"I think he treats you like a boy," you said as you straddled his lap, your skirt slipping up your legs and gathering at your thighs, "when you want to be treated like a man. That's not too much to ask." You ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "You're gonna let me do that?"

"Yes," he replied, his voice weak and hoarse.

You took his hands and brought them up to your tits. He swore his heart stopped.

"Then act like it."

Steve knew what he was doing. At least, he thought he did. He'd had a reputation in high school, especially with the ladies, and he liked to think that the rumours of his skill were true. But those were just girls, just fumbling hookups in the back of his car or upstairs at house parties. You weren't some girl he could just take to the movies then drive out to Lover's Lake until curfew. He wanted to take you to a nice bar in the city. Buy you all the expensive cocktails you wanted. Have his hand on your thigh as he drove you back to his place, where he'd take you on silk sheets and you'd stay for coffee and breakfast in the morning. He wanted something sophisticated, something adult.

You were right. Fuck, you'd read his mind.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He undid each button on your blouse with care. You reached forward, undoing your bra at the front. Steve broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, watching as your tits spilled out from your blouse -- still tucked into your skirt. You could feel him getting hard against your core, but he didn't flush red or look away. Steve knew better than to do that with you; shame didn't belong here.

Before he could arch up to grind against you, you were on your feet. You leaned forward to kiss at his neck, his chest, as you undid his belt buckle, unbuttoned his jeans, and unzipped them. Steve sat up a little so you could ease his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and slap against his belly. You sank to your knees.

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Later," you said, and pressed kisses up his cock. "I've wanted to do this for so long."

You weren't giving him testing, kitten licks. Your warm, wet mouth was around the tip of his cock, tongue swirling, lapping up his precum. Steve tipped his head back, eyes closing, one hand gathering your hair at the back of your neck. He didn't even have to guide you; you swallowed him down, moaning around his length, so expertly that he was certain you were actually a porn star his father had just hired for your looks. All he had to do was give the occasional lazy thrust into your mouth.

"Fuck," you moaned when you came up for air. "You taste so good."

"I do?"

You nodded and licked a long stripe from balls to head, curling your tongue at the tip as you ducked back down, taking him back into your mouth. He shut his eyes for awhile, basking in the warm, wet slide of your mouth, the expert workings of your tongue. Knowing his father, Steve assumed he'd dreamt of this exact encounter since hiring you. But who sat in his chair? Who was getting his dick sucked? Steve smirked and tugged at your hair, lifting your head up.

"Bend over the desk for me, honey."

You wiped your mouth, lipstick smudged, and did as he said. You braced your forearms on the desk, ass out, and Steve got up to run one hand along the curve of your back. That hand skated down, over your hip, and tugged your skirt up. You had matching black lace panties. Steve slipped them down your legs, sinking to his knees as he did so. He took your panties and stuffed them in his back pocket. You glanced back at him.

"What are you doing down there?"

"Unlike some of the assholes who work here," he said as he planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, "I believe in returning favours."

The tip of his tongue swiped through your folds. It was a quick, teasing taste. But soon, he dove in, hands on your thighs to guide your legs apart as he positioned himself behind you, devouring your dripping cunt.

"You're this wet just from sucking my cock?" You could feel his chuckle rumbling against you.

"I can't help it; I've wanted you for so long." You let out a long moan as he slipped two fingers into your entrance and slowly began to work you open, tongue lapping at your clit. "At the Christmas party, I wanted you to take me upstairs and fuck me in the penthouse suite. Making a fucking mess for the CEO and his wife to find after."

"You're telling me we could've been fucking for over a year?"

You giggled, but it soon dissipated into another wanton moan as he scissored his fingers, stretching you.

"I wanted to rip that tie off and stuff it in your mouth to keep you quiet while I rode you," you blurted, your pleasure making you babble. "But then I got to know you..."

"And what do you want now?" Steve rose to his feet. He withdrew your panties and shoved them in your mouth. "Is that better?"

You moaned around the damp fabric and nodded. Steve positioned himself behind you, letting his cock glide through your folds, tip bumping your clit. Steve's smug smirk fell as he lined up with your opening and sunk into you, your hot pussy pulling him in. Yeah, you'd wanted to fuck him before. But this was different. Now he was the one in charge.

He laid one hand flat on your back and shoved you down until you were flush with the desk, tits pressed against the cool surface. Slowly, he rocked his hips, growing accustomed to your tightness. Each thrust punched a breathy moan from you. Steve kept one hand on your back as he picked up his pace, reaching his free hand down to play with your clit, still wet with his spit.

"Is this what you wanted? To get fucked? To take it like a good girl, let me do all the work?"

He spoke through clenched teeth, his fingers moving faster on your clit. He angled his hips up, searching for that spot inside you that would make your knees buckle. You let out a sob when he hit it.

"You like that, honey? Look at you fucking shaking; you haven't been fucked like this in a long time, have you?"

You shook your head. Tears pricked at your eyes, and Steve could feel you tightening around him. He focused on the way your ass shook with every thrust, how you sucked his cock deep into you as your knees began to tremble and you came, moaning around your panties, and soaked his dick. Just watching you arch like that, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk with blanched knuckles, made Steve tumble over the edge. Sudden heat filled your cunt. Slowly, you could feel it leaking out as Steve stayed inside you for a minute, both of you catching your breath.

He eased himself out of you, then flopped back into the desk chair. You turned around and removed the panties from your mouth.

"Feel better?" you asked, panting.

"Huh? About what?"

Your smirk was intoxicating. "Maybe you should ask your dad to get you a job here. I could always use someone to keep me company on late nights like this." You leaned over his chair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Or I could visit the mall, see you in that tight little sailor uniform?"

Steve grabbed you and yanked you into his lap. He shook his head.

"Not a chance."

#fic rec #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve x y/n #steve harrington x older!reader

241 notes · View notes

forays-into-fiction · 1 year

Text

Summary: Based on this, imagine i posted a few months ago. I'm gonna make this an older rockstar!eddie x reader fic, where he still has no idea how phones work.

Warnings: suggestive language. Mention of past drug addiction.

Eddie has had his fair share of scandals in his past. There was his 2 month marriage that he didn't even know about. Apparently, he got married in Vegas when he was too intoxicated and didn't remember it. He found out when he went to go Marry his second wife, and that was a sight to behold. Then it was his rehab stint when he was only 24, having done the whole 90-step program. After that, he vowed to stay clean and meet a nice girl, maybe even settle down.

That's when he saw you and immediately fell in love. He was flipping through his TV late one night and stumbled upon an episode of headbangers ball. Your band was being interviewed by the host about your new album being released soon. Eddie took notice of you when the camera kept panning over at you. He noticed your shy smile and soft voice, only speaking up when spoken to. He watched the entire thing, hoping to hear you laugh again. You were a bass player in a riotgrrl group from Seattle. Your band emerged with other similar groups like Hole, Bikini Kill, and Babes in toyland. He fell in love instantly, having called his managers and demanding to know you. He even went as far as to have your band tour with Corroded Coffin so he could get to know you.

At first, you'll admit you weren't too thrilled to have Eddie Munson follow you around like a lost puppy. After parties, he'd follow you around and get you whatever you wanted. You knew about his reputation and all of the scandalous things he's done. You were hesitant to give him a shot worried he might hurt you. Eventually, you caved and went on that date he would ask you on every time he saw you.

The two of you became inseparable after that first date. Eddie was the type that told you he was in love with you after a few weeks of dating, and he meant it. He wore his heart out on his sleeve, always looking for love. A true hopeless romantic. Even with two failed marriages and a string of girlfriends, he finally found the one.

Being with Eddie wasn't easy he relapsed a few times and had a wandering eye for others when he was high. He tried to be a better man for you, but sometimes life got too hard. With both of you in popular bands, it was hard to really focus on the relationship. Some how though you both made it through it and are still together almost 30 years later. He still looks at you the same way he did when he first saw you in person. He was completely mesmerized like the whole world slowed down, and it was only the two of you left in it.

Which brings you to your situation now. Eddie always liked to express how much he loves you through different ways. He especially loves to spice up your sex life as well. Honestly, it even shocked you that the two of you still go at like horny teenagers. Eddie has always been attracted to you and needed to let you know at all times. He loved you and wanted to remind you of that with any chance he got. That's what got him into trouble this time.

He got a new phone recently and was still having trouble figuring it out. He was hellbent on keeping that old dinosaur he called a blackberry. Sure, they were popular at one time, but they are now obsolete. You told him to just play around with it until he gets the hang of it.

Teasing him, you sent a picture of yourself wearing new lingerie you bought for your anniversary coming up soon. Wanting to tease him and give a little sneak peek at what you had planned for the night. Eddie flips through his apps and tries to figure out what a cloud is and taps his messages to see you half naked. His eyes bug out, and he smiled, getting an idea to do the same. He figured if you were gonna tease him, he was gonna do the same.

Heading into your master bathroom he fists his already semi hard cock pumping it up and down until it was fully hard. Putting the hem of his muscle tank in his mouth, he takes a mirror selfie of himself holding his cock in his large hand. After taking a few pictures and seeing which one deserved to be the one. He decided on the third picture where you can see more details of the veins running along his shaft.

He hits "share now" and doesn't wait for your response. He tosses his phone on the bed after heading out to go work out and eat some lunch, not thinking about what he had just done.

About 2 hours later, you were out having lunch with your old band mates discussing a reunion album. The vibration of your phone kept going off, and you tried to ignore it as best as you could. Picking it up, you noticed at least 50 text messages from friends and the rest of the guys from Corroded Coffin.

You saw one message from Jeff saying he needs you to call him it's urgent. Running to a secluded area, you ring him back worried something happened to Eddie.

"Hey, look, I don't know if you have seen what your husband has posted on his Instagram, but you need to look at it and head home fast." He stressed to you.

"Okay, I'll take a look and go check on Eddie. Don't worry. "

You click over to instagram and head to your husband's account, and there plain as day is your husband butt naked with his cock in his fist. He wrote the caption "Cum here often." Shocked at first but once you read the caption you couldn't help but laugh. He probably meant to send that to you and posted it by mistake. You keep looking at the picture and notice he's also flexing his abs a little. You definitely know he did this in response to the picture you sent him earlier. The picture has now earned over 3 million likes and thousands of comments. Curiosity got the best of you, and you read some of them.

"Why is it looking at me" one comment said.

"Mom can you pick me up I'm scared."

"How does it feel to live my dream 😔" one person said and tagged you in the comment.

"Wow so when he wrote pussy destroyer he won't lying" someone else joked.

Putting your hand over your mouth, you tried to stifle a laugh. Calling Eddie, of course, he doesn't answer. You go to tell your band mates you need to head home and see Eddie. It's important. They give you a goodbye hug and send their love to him.

Walking into your shared home, you call out Eddie's name, no answer. Walking around peaking into every room, hunting him down. You eventually find him on his treadmill with headphones on blasting his music. He notices you in the doorway and smiles. Running over to you, he gives you a big bear hug.

"So did you like the picture I sent you earlier?" He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"I sure did. As a matter of fact, me and the rest of the world did too." You joked with him.

Eddie looked totally confused until you pulled out your phone, showing what he had done. He looked horrified but then slowly became his cocky self again.

"Well, at least they know the rumors are, in fact, true."

#fic rec #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddiemunson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n

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