#boomhauer x reader

[barleyo]

do you take requests if so for the love of god do more boomhauer please it was so damn hot <3 love your work btw

Straight Tequila Night.

Jeff Boomhauer X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, and yes, requests are always open! Sorry for the excruciatingly long wait, sweetheart. I'm pretty worthless when it comes to getting requests done in a timely manner, sorry!! This is heavily based off of John Anderson's Straight Tequila Night, so I suggest listening to it while you read. Whoever can find the most references to the song in the fic wins, haha!

Wordcount: 3.4K

Tags: P*rn with plot, p in v, oral (f receiving), sex with a semi-stranger, smut in the later half of the story

He jetted down the highway, looking for any sign or signal that pointed toward a bar. He never liked traveling outside of Arlen for anything, but when his friends were done drinking for the night and his regular pub was closed, he didn’t mind driving a few miles out of town to get a drink and mingle. 

Though Boomhauer was going farther than he originally thought he would need to, he refused to turn around and give up. Instead, he kept on driving down the sparingly lit road. The road there was bumpy, he noticed. Old and cracked pavement, unlike Arlen’s smooth, blacktop roads. He was only twenty or so minutes out of town and he could tell the differences between the two places by how often his car would jump on a jagged crack or pothole too deep to be safe.

Finally, he pulled into the parking lot of a tiny place that did not register as a bar in his mind until a neon sign that read “happy hour, every hour” came into view. The lot was empty besides a car or two in the employee’s spots and a few beat up sedans that were scattered. Boomhauer parked in a spot nearest the door and got out, grabbed his jacket he left in the passenger seat, and shrugged it on. Hands in his coat pockets, he walked in.

For however few cars were in the lot, it looked like even fewer people were even in the place. He surveyed the empty tables and thought to turn right back around to keep looking when a voice called out to him.

“Welcome in,” a woman said. 

His head snapped over to the source, finding her behind the bar. He had not noticed her while he was making his earlier assessment of the place. He offered a quick smile in an attempt to combat his previous indirect rudeness and sat at her bar top. Boomhauer took note of the woman’s age: a bit too old to just be working at a place like this, she was likely the owner.

“Never seen you before, you new here?” She leaned over the countertop inquisitively, leaving enough room between the two of them for comfort. “Or just passing through town?” 

“Just passing through, ma’am,” he said.

“Ma’am? Gosh, polite, aren’t you? You can call me Mary, none of all that ‘ma’am’ stuff. Your name, if you don’t mind me askin’?” 

“Jeff Boomhauer. Friends call me Boomhauer.”

“Alright then, Boomhauer, what’re you havin’ here on this fantastic night?” What Mary lacked in numbers, she made up for in energy and entertainment for the guests she did have. The emptiness of the bar did not seem to bother her.

“Alamo, if you’ve got it.”

“Alamo? Oh, honey, you’re from Arlen aren’t you?” she asked, biting back a laugh when he nodded. “Y’all really love your Alamo, huh? Nobody here drinks it. Thought about replacing it on tap to save my money, glad you’re here to drink it.” Mary bent down, disappearing under the bar to grab the beer mug. “Sixteen ounces okay?” She pulled the tap and filled the cup.

“Mhm, that’s fine by me,” he grabbed the mug and took a swig from it, and looked to his side. He saw a wine glass sitting next to him on a napkin. Before he could ask about it, someone walked over.

“Someone else here, Mary?” 

“Yup, (Y/N),” Mary was already turned to the girl’s direction, hearing the click of her heels before hearing her voice, “Out-of-towner from Arlen.”

(Y/N) took her seat next to Boomhauer and faced him. “It’s ‘bout time we see someone who isn’t a regular,” she laughed, holding her hand out. “Nice to meet you.” 

Shaking her hand, he replied, “You too, Miss (Y/N).”

“Oh, so polite,” she said. “Didn’t know I was a ‘Miss’ kind of girl!”

“That’s what I was saying too! Jeff Boomhauer, are all Arlen men like this? Because if so, I might need to get me one,” Mary joked while she wiped down the other end of the bar, scrubbing at a stubborn stain. 

Boomhauer said nothing in return and instead sipped at his mug quietly, listening in on Mary and (Y/N)’s chat. He allowed himself to peer at her from the corner of his eyes every so often. She was an exceptionally pretty thing: big smile, cute voice, and even cuter laugh. He was normally a talkative man, but feeling so enthralled and out of place made him want to listen especially closely to the two women.

“So, uh,” he cleared his throat, “you come here often?” He internally cringed at his own cliche, but (Y/N) seemed not to mind. 

“I’m Mary’s favorite regular, if that gives you any clue.” She looked at him, a sweet smile covering her face. 

“Don’t let her fool you, she’s still a pain in my rear,” Mary interrupted absentmindedly. 

“See, that’s real love right there,” (Y/N) grabbed Boomhauer’s arm as she chuckled to herself, and let go once she was done. “Hey, do me a favor, would you?”

“Yeah?”

“Take these,” she dug in her purse and pulled out a small handful of quarters. “Put on, uh, K-13 on that ol’ jukebox in that corner.”

“You got it,” he said. He stood up and stepped over to the jukebox, inserting the coins. He hovered his fingers over the number keys of the jukebox’s keyboard and punched in the numbers that she told him to. “I didn’t even know these things were still used,” he said. “Ain’t seen one since I was a kid.”

“I know, right? Used to be my favorite thing: headin’ to a diner with my daddy, popping on whatever song I could with the nickels and dimes he found for me in his car’s cup holders.” 

Boomhauer sat back down and watched (Y/N)’s face contort into a fond smile as she went over her memories.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He did not try to stop his own smile from forming at her words.

“Well,” she started, “you in town for long?” 

“Nah, just tonight. Came here when my dang ol’ favorite place was right n’ closed up. Just trying somethin’ new.”

“Ah, well, cheers to that then!” She held her glass up and clinked it against his. She drank from it again, finishing out the rest of her white wine. “You know, we almost never get people just blowing by here,” she traced the rim of the glass, “the place is just too boring for people, I guess. Empty town and all that.”

“I like it.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t mind it here, man. Nice n’ quiet, wouldn’t say it’s better’n Arlen, but I don’t mind it here,” Boomhauer said, watching (Y/N)’s face warm up from the alcohol, assuming the same was happening to his own face. 

“Oh, Boomhauer, don’t say that or else I’ll have to convince you to move here! We could use some more cuties like you here, it’d make it worth hanging around this town.” 

“Maybe someday, Miss (Y/N), maybe someday,” he chuckled at her dramatics, but on the inside he felt a sharp spark. She was joking, of course, but the hint of truth behind it was all Boomhauer could hear. He couldn’t possibly move to a new town for a woman he’d known for only the lesser half of an hour, but God, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel tempting every time he heard her laugh. 

She smirked at him and ushered him to stand up and follow her. She tossed a few bills onto the countertop on both her side and Boomhauer’s, pushing his hand down as he reached into his pocket to pay. “Lightin’ up and headin’ out, Mary,” she called from behind her shoulder. 

“Long as you don’t do it in here, hon,” Mary called back. “See you.” She had taken to looking through a magazine while the ‘couple’ were chatting with each other and was still engrossed with what she was reading.

(Y/N) grabbed Boomhauer’s hand and pulled him out the door, letting go of his hand and sitting on the curb just outside the bar. She patted the spot beside her. He sat down with her and watched her take a box of cigarettes out of her purse. 

“You smoke?” she asked.

“Mhm, yeah.” He did not smoke. He may have lit a cig once or twice in high school, but never as an adult, and why he told her he did, he did not know. 

“Shit,” (Y/N) groaned, pulling her final cigarette out of its lonely box. “One left.” She lit it and took a drag, exhaling a dark cloud and tapping the ash off of the end. “Hm,” she grunted as she held the stick out to Boomhauer. 

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise but took it anyway. He saw the red ring of (Y/N)’s lipstick around the filter of the cigarette and smiled, taking a puff of his own. An unfamiliar heaviness grew in his lungs and he fought back a cough, handing it back to her.

“You know,” she took another drag before continuing, “I’m glad you came on in tonight. It’s always just me n’ a few random regulars. Every damn night, never a newbie or anyone interestin’.” She sighed and leaned her head onto Boomhauer’s shoulder. 

He tensed up a first, but calmed down once he felt her start to hum gently. 

“There’s something about this town I love,” she puffed from the cig and coughed. “The community, the familiar faces. Everyone knows each other, and there’s charm to that.”

Boomhauer nodded, the smoke swirling around him as (Y/N)  exhaled. “Yeah, it’s true. Arlen’s like that too, bit bigger though. Everybody knows everybody. Can’t go any-dang-where without bumpin’ into someone you know.”

“Right,” she replied, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. “But sometimes, it’s nice to step outta your bubble, really get out there.”

He thought for a moment, contemplating her words. It had been a long time since he ventured outside of his comfort zone, outside of his town. Sitting there with (Y/N) on that quiet curb, he couldn’t help but feel a strange comfort. Maybe there was more to life than the familiar routine he had grown accustomed to.

“You might be onto somethin’ there,” he finally said. “Life’s too short to stay in one place, a man’s gotta be free, man. Maybe it’s time I start takin’ some risks, tryin’ new things.”

(Y/N) grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. “I like the sound of that, Boomhauer. A man with a sense of adventure is very sexy.”

They kept speaking to each other, inching closer throughout the night.The initial awkwardness between them melted away, replaced by a growing connection and a shared sense of curiosity.

Eventually, the cigarette burned out.

“Can’t believe how fast time flew by,” Boomhauer said, a tinge of regret in his voice. “I gotta get goin’.”

“Don’t know if I’m being forward, but am I gonna see you around these parts again, Mr. Boomhauer?” she asked with a laugh, copying his formality from the beginning of the night. 

He caught on. “Well, Miss (Y/N), depends on if you’re good and sure you wanna see me again.” 

“Hm, I think I’d like to. Could get used to sitting by a handsome not-stranger like yourself every Friday night. Mary likes ya’ too.” She angled her head up to make eye contact with him. “I like you more, though.” She leaned in and pressed her red-stained lips against his chapped ones.

He placed his hand on her face and tilted her into the kiss, savoring the feeling. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he ran his tongue over her bottom lip, slowly pushing into her mouth. She moaned as he explored her mouth, intertwining his tongue with hers briefly before breaking away.

They both panted as they caught their breath, still holding eye contact. 

“I should get going,” (Y/N) sighed, standing up.

“Right, uh, yeah, man, me too.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her turn to walk away. “You need me to walk you to your car?”

“No, hon, I’m okay. Just–” she looked back at him, “just make sure to come here again real soon, yeah? Don’t be a stranger, Boomhauer.” She walked to her car, heels clicking. She got into the car and drove off, rolling down her window to flash a final smile at him. 

Boomhauer had gone back to that small, desolate bar every week on Fridays for a long time. He did not see (Y/N) there for a while. He was upset, thinking that she had forgotten about their little promise so quickly, but he still showed up. Every Friday, sometimes Saturdays. He had soon started to devote less and less of his time to visiting Mary’s pub in search of her.

Today, he decided, would be one of his final trips. He was still hopeful, of course, but he was not completely delusional and knew when enough was enough. 

He walked in, head down. Not looking up, he sat down at his regular seat, right by the middle of the bar top.

“Hey, Mary,” he groaned, finally looking up. 

“Hey, not-stranger.” (Y/N) smiled at him while picking up her glass.

Boomhauer looked up, seeing her face again. He felt relief, anger, and happiness all at the same time. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), where have you been? I– I’ve been comin’ here wantin’ to see you every week.”

“I know, I know, Mary’s grilled me about it plenty, and I’m sorry.” She plopped down next to him in the chair, facing him with a grimace on her face. “I don’t even know what happened. I was getting dressed to come see you on that Friday and I just couldn’t leave, same with all the others.” She grabbed her shot glass. It was filled to the brim with tequila, and it probably was not the first or only one she had that night.

“What do you mean?”

“Damn it, I don’t know, Jeff,” she sighed and shot the drink back, wincing at the burning feeling it left in her throat. “You’re just so nice, you were so sweet, and you listened to me when I was talking the whole time. You let me joke and be silly and made me feel like you felt like I did, even if it was a lil’ soon.”

“I do feel the same, (Y/N), I feel it too, but if you felt this way, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Wasn’t that simple, I felt so scared and I couldn’t take the chance of you not feeling the same. You say you do, but even telling you now makes me so nervous,” she covered her face with her hands, and her voice was a bit muffled as she ranted. Her hands felt clammy with her sweat and tears. 

Boomhauer gently wedged his hand between her face and her palm, tilting her head to angle her eyes at his. “Darlin’, c’mon now, don’t cry. I get it, you don’t have to explain anymore.” He got up and tapped her arm. “You’re too drunk to drive, let me take you home, yeah?”

(Y/N) nodded, thick tears still dripping down her cheeks. 

They both exited the bar, (Y/N) clinging onto Boomhauer’s arm, snuggling into it against the cool night air. They got in Boomhauer’s car and (Y/N) typed her address into his phone’s GPS system.

They drove in near silence, the only sound being a sniffle of huff from (Y/N)’s side of the car. He soon pulled into her driveway. Getting out, he walked to her side and opened her door, lifting her to her weak, tired legs and walked her to the door. 

“I guess I’ll see you whenever I can see you–?”

He was interrupted by (Y/N) pulling him into a kiss. It was not like their first one, this one was rushed and full of need and desire. She pulled him back into the house, still locked in the kiss, and slammed her door shut. She led him to the bedroom and fell back on her bed.

“This okay?” He asked, laying on top of her.

“Mhm, yes. Please, g’head n’ touch me.”

That was all he needed to hear. He pushed her head to the side and placed his lips on her neck. He sucked the soft skin until a tender, dark bruise formed on it. Moving his head up, he littered the hickies closer to her jaw. 

Pulling away with a pop, he examined the marks. They were shiny with his spit.

“They don’t hurt, do they?” He traced over the wet marks with his thumb, pressing onto them gently. 

(Y/N) craned her neck into his touch, pushing into it further. “It does, but I like it. Don’t need’a worry ‘bout me.”

“Hm.”

Boomhauer ducked his head down and created a trail of kisses, each dipping lower than the last until his lips were situated at her chest, just at the divot of her shirt. He quickly slid his finger through the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning them and helping her shrug the shirt off. 

Goosebumps littered her skin when the cold air hit her body, soon being soothed by the warm kisses he placed over her abdomen. She gasped at the feeling. Boomhauer made his way lower, slipping her skirt and panties down. 

“Here,” he gripped onto her thighs and held them apart, “hold still for me.” 

He placed his head fully between her legs, licking thick stripes over her cunt. From her entrance to her clit, he traced a path, licking up her wetness and replacing it with his spit. 

“God, ‘s too much,” she whined.

“Ain’t even started yet, just wait,” Boomhauer said, voice muffled while he slurped and sucked on her sensitive, swollen bud. 

Licking at her slit, he pushed into her, dipping his tongue in-and-out. He rolled his tongue deeper, nose bumping against her clit. Little shocks of pleasure coursed through (Y/N), back arching with each pass over her clit.

Running her hands through his blond hair, she took purchase over the back of his head, grinding her pussy up into his mouth. 

“Ah– almost, almost there, keep–”

He pulled off, a wide grin plastered over his slick, reddened face. He wiped his face with his forearm.

“Turn over, baby,” Boomhauer grabbed her waist and flipped her over, face pushed into the mattress. “You ready?” He lined himself up at her entrance, slowly edging the tip in.

“Mhmph.”

His thrusts were slow and agonizing, but not teasing. He wanted this just as bad as she did, no: worse. He felt the velvet ribbing of her cunt suck him in with each thrust, drawing him in and constricting around his cock. 

“Tight lil’ thing,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Can’t keep squeezin’ like that, darlin’, makin’ me wanna cum early.”

“Oh, sorry,” she whined slightly, arching her hips further up as if he were trying to guide his cock to her deep spot. “There,” her mouth fell open with a cry, “ooh, right there, right there!”

“Yeah? Yeah, I-I got you..” 

Boomhauer tried to keep his hips directly flushed to her back, holding the position she put herself in under him. He turned his full, fast strokes into a rough and meaningful rutting, like he was trying to bury his dick into her G-spot.

“Fuck, fuck.” She panted deeply, pathetically, knowing she was close. A final stroke threw her over the edge into her ecstasy, from a final, sweet knock onto her cervix’s tip. 

He saw her shimmery nails grip the sheets tightly, watching as her knuckles practically turned white. “Aw, sweet– shit, sweetheart,” he cooed into her ear, fumbling over his words a bit. 

He got lost in his own pleasure, hardly being able to pull out. He managed to in time, however, and fisted his cock. After giving the base a few quick strokes, he groaned seeing his cum spurt out on her bare lower back.

(Y/N) hummed and looked back at him, sleepiness hanging over her eyes. 

“Boom,” she said after she heard his breathing steady, “will y’stay with me tonight? Please?”

“I’ll stay longer’n that, girl.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking over to him as he took a spot underneath the covers with her.

“Didn’t you notice the suitcases in the backseat of m’car?

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #fanfiction #smutty smut smut #smut #king of the hill #king of the hill x reader #x reader #x fem reader #jeff boomhauer #boomhauer x reader #boomhauer #adult swim #niche fandom

[wroteclassicaly]

Shit you really need to limit me cause it’s my life’s ambition to ride Eddie’s face

And it his ambition to have you on his face ;D

~*~

Eddie loves to watch you beg, and well, he will beg you too. He’s not opposed to doing whatever it takes to get your cunt in his mouth or around his fingers or cock. You’re shy at first, sometimes not really able to comprehend why he wants you to, but then you get into this charge that he knows he better lay back and let you have your way. You’re his Princess, after all. If he initiates, it can be a slow crawl towards you, fingers finding the meat of your thighs and pinching.

He will lay down and scrub a hand down his face or cup his jaw and mouth (like he’s prone to doing) and you very aware of what he’s hungry for.

“Come on up and have a seat, sweetheart. Missed that sweet little cunt suffocating my airspace.”

He often becomes frazzled in the presence of your nude form, and it’s endearing, really. You oblige, holding onto his long tresses and closing your legs around his head, that wet tongue working your folds apart, plush lips sucking on your clit. He’s a shattered mess of blown pupils and a flushed chest below, willing to do anything you want, even if that means… death by pussy (his words).

#kristenwrites #thank you so much!! #boomhauer #kink hour #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Eddie trying to hide his very obvious boner in the middle of class and POC reader decides to do something about it ? 👀

The hoes gon' love this. Thanks for the idea!

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader. Black Reader described. Reader is 18.

CW: 18+ Content (Smut Adjacent)

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

__________________________

While you weren't one to be late, you were one to always try your best to be a helping hand. Halfway through lunch, you walked one of your friends to the nurse's office. She'd been complaining for the last half an hour about her stomach hurting and it wasn't until she sat down that you saw the flash of panic over her face. She asked to borrow your jacket to tie around her waist and you easily gave it up. Though you did definitely try to keep an eye for the seat she'd just exited.

The excursion to the nurse's office took longer than you originally intended, but you didn't mind it as the nurse scratched down a late pass. Which landed you here, walking into Chemistry a few minutes late.

Mr. Clarkson takes the pass, seemingly satisfied by the signature on the bottom. "Table in the back, you're with Munson."

Eddie catches the sound of his name and looks up from the set of instructions copied over from the handwritten set. You stand, right off the side of the bench in the front of class, not a single set podium but clearly for Mr. Clarkson to show the class how to run the experiments.

He watches you, the gray t-shirt covering the expanse of your chest. It's not what he saw you in earlier. He distinctly remembers a green top because he liked the way it set against your deep brown skin. But he tries not to stare. It's sort of ridiculous that he remembers what you were wearing at the start of the day. You start to turn, scanning the room to locate him so he turns his attention back to the instructions. Eddie wishes at that moment he didn't have to tie his hair back for the lab today.

From the periphery of his vision, Eddie watches as you approach, sneakers squeaking just a little as you turn to slide onto the stool. Eddie looks up then, giving a small tight lipped smile. "Hey," he offers.

"Sorry I'm late," you return, grabbing the safety glasses off the desk and scanning through the instructions.

"I haven't burned anything down just yet so I think it's safe to say you're right on time," Eddie teases.

"Oh, c'mon, who doesn't love a little arson," you laugh, looking up to Eddie. His laughter sounds short and you realize his gaze is lingering on you longer than you anticipated. The cool on your arms reminds you that you don't have anything to cover your arms. "One second," you say, patting Eddie on the arm and then half jogging to Mr. Clarkson's desk.

Eddie closes his eyes as you go, trying to keep his mind on the lab, and not the way your hand felt warm against his forearm. It was a soft squeeze--one that reads friendly, but Eddie hates how much it sends a tingle down his spine. You approach not too long after, threading your arms into the sleeves of a lab coat.

You don't even bother slipping back onto the stool. You move it to the end of the bench and lean into the table. "How far have you gotten?" you ask, peering over Eddie's shoulder.

You're not even that close. But Eddie can still catch the heat radiating off you and he shifts a little in the chair, trying not to imagine how it might feel for you to completely press into the back of him. Eddie points to the step he's on, measuring out milligrams for the solution. He got through the first three or four steps before you arrived by himself.

"I'll do it."

It's a simple offer and you reach right beside him to the dish that's been set out for you two. "I-I'lll get the bunson burner set," Eddie offers weakly, slipping a hand down from the table over his crotch. Now was not the time to have a boner. But Eddie is too fucking weak to really stop it.

He's thankful as he sets the heat just right that you haven't seemingly noticed. Eddie stays on his stool, trying to push his lap as far under the bench as he can get it. But when you measure out the powder and go to add it to the solution Eddie's already started you run one hand across his shoulders and Eddie bites his lips.

He should think about dead puppies. Or dead cats. Or how he got picked on in the third grade and his favorite sneakers got ruined because Carver pushed him into the mud while they waited for. the bus. Eddie should think literally about anything else, but he keeps his mind lingering on the feeling of your fingers over his shoulder and he hates himself for it.

"How long do we stir?" you ask, the glass clinking just a little as you work.

"Thirty-thirty seconds."

"You doing alright over there, Munson?" you laugh. The glass clinks, clinks, clinks and Eddie counts the seconds. Before he can reply you slide the solution his way to add the heat and then there's one last chemical you have to add. Your press against his shoulder and bicep, one hand creeping up onto his thigh and then slithering closer and closer to his erection. "Because if you ask me, you look pale? Don't tell me I'm going to be making a second trip to the nurses off today."

Eddie can't fully swallow down the whimper when your hand squeezes at him. He has just enough sense to look up. No one else seems to be watching and he taps for the last dish, right in front of it. You slide it his way, grinning as the liquid turns purple and fizzes a little.

"Looks perfect you too," Mr. Clarkson notes as he slides up to the fron to the bench.

Eddie takes in a giant inhale, praying that he does not look down under the table, lest he catch sight of your palm pressed against Eddie's crotch.

"Easy to get great results with a great lab partner and easy instructions," you beam.

Mr. Clarkson laughs, wagging a finger at you. "Certainly a smooth talker. Since this all set, you two can get a head start on the balance equations review sheet."

"Sounds good. We'll clean this up for you," you offer watching Mr. Clarkson reaching forward for your trays. "You're already done so early," you shrug.

"You can use the sink in the back," Mr. Clarkson states, giving explicit instructions on how to handle the chemicals. You nod, palm slipping just a little down but the pressure is still firm. Eddie focus on his breathe, fingers digging now into the meat of his thighs.

Please God, Eddie pleads. Just walk away.

Mr. Clarkson walks away a few seconds later and Eddie exhales, shakily. You snort and lean into Eddie's ear. "Gonna cream your pants right here? In the middle of class?"

"Why-why are you even doing this?" Eddie hisses out, getting the burner off.

"You're weak and a little pathetic as how much you tried not to get hard with my touching and I think just as weak you are, I'm weak too. Couldn't help myself."

You and Eddie flirted--in hallways, across the cafeteria. It was all really a game. You had an energy that could match his. But Eddie didn't actually think it would go anywhere. It never did. He was the town freak. No one really wanted to openly be with him. He'd been asked on nights after he performed at The Hideout for quickies or managed during the heavy end of 7 minutes of heaven and truth or dare to cop a feel or get a kiss, but Eddie wasn't anyone's type. He was a fun story, a side quest, but never the main adventure.

"Who put you up to this?" Eddie asks, hand wrapping around your wrist. "You can tell them whatever story you need. Don't pity me."

"It's--" you pull away, body and hand. Eddie reluctantly lets your fingers fall from his. "No one put me up to this?"

Eddie's hum says otherwise to your protest. And though he's still hard he takes a quick second to get resituated. "That's what they all say."

"Why did you flirt back? If you're going to say it was a prank?"

"Because everyone needs their story right? It's a fun story," Eddie huffs, taking the dishes to the back sink.

You look around and notice most of the class is still buried in their labs, so you slip stalk over to Eddie. "I like you, dipshit. In case you couldn't tell. We are literally in the middle of class. You think I'd do that for just anyone?"

Eddie's scoff is bitter on his tongue, but his heart thunders in his chest. You like him? What god had smiled on him? And what devil was trying to play a trick? "You like me?" It comes out covered in sacrasm.

You take his wrist and still him. "Look at me." You don't speak again until Eddie's staring at you from behind the goggles. "I like you. A lot. It's why I flirted back. It's why I'd actually like to take you out, if you're okay with it. Dinner and a movie? I'll pick you up at 7."

Eddie shakes his head. "What? You're asking me on a date?"

"As sure as I am Black right now. Friday night?"

Friday, friday--"I run the Dungeons and Dragons club on Friday nights. Sessions can be sort of long."

You nod, hand slipping from his wrist. "What about--"

Eddie interrupts the question, but taking your fingers through his. "I can do Thursday."

"Thursday," you agree.

"And I like to properly wined and dined," he teases.

"So I can't offer that you go to the bathroom first and then I go after you by like three minutes?" you laugh.

"Oh," Eddie grins. "You absolutely can. But it's going to cost you an icee at the theater."

"Sounds worth it."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x black reader #eddie munson x reader #h writes #stranger things #boomhauer

[pastel-pillows]

Line request: I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.

Angst angst angst. I’m sorry boom, for a plot based off of this line i thought of this:

There’s a way back, etched across the wall of an innocuous building that he’d passed every day in the real world. He could break it open, save himself from the streets that’d long since blurred together in a mess of rotted vines and crumbling concrete, but a way out for him meant a way in for the things that still went bump in the distance, close enough to be heard but never to be seen. If he went back, whatever had been following might just come with.

-Eddie walks the paths he used to take to school/home/dnd meetings every day so he can maintain some semblance of the life he had and his sanity

-He sits and stares at the jagged portal everyday for hours dreaming of the sun and sky and friends that are just feet away

-he makes a list of pros and cons in his head every time he finds himself starting to break down and waiver in his choice to keep the upside down in the upside down

-the deciding factor for him always ends up being you and how he can’t bring himself to bring these horrors back into your life

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x you #boomhauer ❤️

[whoahoney]

I thought of something last night that made me think of you. I’ve lost a lot of weight recently so neither my pants or belts fit and I was taken back to the days of using a phone cord or zip ties to link two belt loops together as a makeshift belt.

I can clearly see the hand-me-downs in the trailer going that way! Honey zip tying belt loops together on the younger kids 💀💀

It’s instilling Malcom in the Middle into my brain.

The boys:

THE WAY I CACKLED

back in my farm days, I used baling wire and hay twine to keep my pants up 💀 also used duct tape to keep my shoes together before! The thought of a phone cord and zip ties SENT ME 😂 Best believe we’re gonna see these kids sporting some zip ties to school and complaining the whole time

Also how am I just noticing Cal is so Malcolm coded it’s ridiculous wtf is my brain 😭 that gif is perfect, I’m gonna have to put these guys in situations and make Aaron say that exact line just to get his shit rocked by his sister and a flip flop 😌

I love this so much, this made my day massively better, thank you, boom 🥺🫶🏻

#oklahomie #boomhauer #honey said #a girl called honey #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #answered asks

[loveshotzz]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

My Favorite Customer

Summary: You’ve been buying weed from your new dealer for a few months now. Always leaving it in your mailbox while you’re at work, you two never cross paths until one Friday night when you come home early.

word count: 3k

Warnings: None really besides some kissing at the end. This just a little meet cute with our favorite weed dealer. (Not meant to be a series, just a fluffy one shot) mentions of weed obviously.

A/N: I missed Eddie and this idea came to me based off my real life of buying weed from my weed man for over a year. Have yet to come face to face with him, but there’s always weed in my mailbox when I need it lol. For my twin @boomhauer and thank you @superblysubpar for helping me find my Eddie voice again.

Lifting up the lid of your mailbox, the smirk that tugs at your lips can’t be stopped when a fresh bag of weed sits inside, his usual hand written note attached making your face hot. You look both ways before snatching the eighth quickly scuffling back into your apartment like you were hiding a pound of cocaine and not just enough green to last you a few days.

It had been like this for a while with Eddie. You’d call him up by the number given to you from Robin who swore up and down that he was the best.

You remember thinking his voice was cute the first time you heard it, and you started to wonder if he thought the same after the third call. A flirty edge hidden behind his words every time he’d pick up and realize it was you.

“Ahhh my favorite customer.” He’d tease starting to get these calls multiple times a week.

It wasn’t your intention to never meet Eddie, it’s just how it always seemed to happen. That first time you talked he could hear the desperation in your voice. The stress from the move here and starting your new full time job fresh out of high school, he could tell you needed to relax. Rattling off times he could come by, none of them ever lining up to match with yours.

“You got a mailbox or somewhere I could stash it?” He finally gave in after exhausting almost every other option.

“You’d do that?” You couldn’t help but be embarrassed by the obvious excitement in your voice and he just laughed.

“If the money’s there sweetheart, why not?” The nickname made your heart skip a beat biting your lip to try and hide your smile.

You don’t even know what he looks like.

So this is how it started playing out after that, you’d call with your order and he’d make you blush every time he’d kick the flirting up to ten.

Instantly comforted by his mellow voice, you found yourself looking forward to those few minutes so much that you weren’t sure if the amount you were smoking was from stress or from just wanting to hear his voice again. Then he started adding little notes to your deliveries and now you were almost positive it was the second.

His sloppy handwriting started appearing on each bag with the word ‘favorite’ always scribbled at the top.

Cheeks heating up the first time it showed up, you couldn’t stop trying to imagine what he looked like. Too scared to ask Robin, you knew she’d just follow your intrigue with a line of questioning of her own.

Settling for the vague faceless man you’d conjured up in your clever mind. You let the memory of his voice be the thing that secretly encouraged the movements of your fingers between your thighs every night.

—

Friday morning had you waking up with a smile, your stash low enough to do the thing you’d been thinking about since you hung up the last time. Taking a deep breath you dialed his number that you now had completely memorized. It only rings three times before his voice fills your end of the receiver.

“Is this who I think it is calling me this early in the morning?” The grin in his voice is evident when he answers.

Shuffling your feet nervously, the smile on your own face was starting to make your cheeks hurt.

“Do you always answer the phone like this?” You wonder if he can hear yours too.

“Only if I know it’s you.”his tone sends a shiver up your spine, legs pressing together on their own accord.

“And how’d you know that it was me Eddie?” You draw out his name sweetly, silently squealing when you hear the hitch in his breathing from it.

“Because sweetheart, you’re the only one who calls this early for weed.” catching the way he almost whispers the last part, you hear a gruff voice in the background.

“Boy if you don’t leave soon!”

“Sorry, is that a problem? I just wanted to catch you before it was too late.” The urge to crawl in a hole is strong as you slap your palm on your forehead.

Your eagerness to talk to him becoming more than obvious, the man yelling at him in the background definitely wasn’t helping your new bashfulness.

“Pshh are you kidding me? I love it. Get to start the morning off talking to my favorite girl.” He lays his response on thicker than syrup. Your palms start to sweat noting the way he didn’t say customer for the first time.

Your embarrassment subsides for a split second before the voice from before cuts in again.

“If I get another call that you were late again, boy I swear to -“

The line shuffles on the other end and all you can hear is the sounds muffled arguing before another loud rustle, his voice returning with more irritation in it than you’d ever heard before.

“You want the usual?” He’s short when he answers and you know it’s not supposed to be directed at you, but you can’t help but squirm.

“Y- yeah if that’s okay?” You didn’t mean to give yourself away by stumbling over your words, but when you do Eddie makes a quick recovery.

“More than, listen you have a good day at work today Sweetheart. I really gotta go, but check your mailbox when you get home.” Hanging up before you get a chance to finish saying goodbye you hear Eddie yell “I”m leaving alright?!”

——

Work was exceptionally slow for a Friday night, the unexpected thunderstorm that rolled through killed any possibility of a dinner rush. Cutting you less than half way through your shift, your giddy excitement couldn’t be contained. Friday evenings had become non-existent since you started at Enzo’s. So when the opportunity to actually have one came around you couldn’t turn it down. Stopping at Family Video on your way home, Robin helped you pick out something she swore was good while you did your best to ignore the eyes her friend Steve was giving you.

Strumming your fingers against the steering wheel while you listened to Kiss a little too loud, the heavy rain turned into something less than a light drizzle as your tires splashed through puddles. Planning out your evening alone you didn't even think of what this could mean as you pulled into your parking spot hours earlier than normal.

Too caught up in trying to land the notes to I Was Made For Loving You, you didn’t see the van parked in front of your small complex. Head in the clouds with the possibilities of the night mixed with your bad habit of looking down when you walked, you didn’t see who was right in front of you. The sound of the voice you’d been daydreaming for months about cuts through your mumbled singing. Stomach dropping to the floor when you hear

“Son of a bitch.”

Freezing in place, your eyes slowly trail up towards your front door. Standing at almost six feet tall was a curly haired metal head. Mumbling profanities as he struggled against the lid of your mailbox, his jacket looked caught on something. Broad shoulders covered by a battle vest adorned with a giant Dio patch, you still couldn’t see what his face looked like as he struggled with the sleeve of the leather jacket beneath. Taking in his ripped black jeans and scuffed white Reebok’s, your heart was already threatening to beat out of your chest. If his face was cute, you knew you’d be fucked.

A few more violent tugs of his arm, he finally breaks free as your mailbox creaks dangerously close to coming unhinged off the brick wall. His zippers jingle as he shakes out his wrist, flipping up a ring clad middle finger he chuckles proudly to himself before turning around. Big brown eyes meet yours like a deer in headlights, so cute they punch the air out of our lungs.

Yeah, you were fucked.

Brows furrowed under messy bangs his eyes go from your stunned face down to the keys in your hand with your VHS tape before he takes in your frame. Catching the way they linger just long enough to still be polite. He meets your shocked stare as something clicks in his head. A dimple filled smile pushes past his plush lips, yours threatening to do just the same at the sight.

“Eddie?” Surprised you were able to get his name out of your mouth, his face seems to light up even more as his suspicions were confirmed.

“That depends.” Rocking on his heels he crosses his arms over his chest “Favorite, is that you? Cause boy, you’re even cuter than you sound.”

Blood rushing to your cheeks hearing your nickname in person like this, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth at his compliment.

“That depends.” Looking up at him from under your lashes the dimples in his cheeks deepen at your response.

Twirling one of his curls over his lip, you notice all of his rings “What if it’s your favorite weed dealer?”

Cuter than anything you could have conjured up in your mind you were silently scolding yourself for not meeting him sooner. Straightening your shoulders a little you take a few strides closer to him, watching as his eyes don’t try to hide as they take all of you in.

“I’m sure you call all the girls that, but yes it’s me Eddie.” Smiling bigger than you can help, it’s his turn to take a couple steps closer.

“Nah, that nickname is just for you sweetheart.” Standing close enough to catch hints of corner store cologne trying to cover up cigarette smoke, everything about him made your brain short circuit. Looking down at the movie in your hand his eyebrows raise in disbelief before meeting your eyes again. “Alien?”

“Robin suggested it to me for my unexpected night off.” Flipping it over in your hand to read the back, you could feel his stare on your face rather than on the tape. “Ever seen it?” glancing up at him, he doesn’t try to hide what he was actually looking at.

Nodding, he grins down at you “Buckley’s got great taste.”

Catching the double meaning in his words an electric current that could light up all of Hawkins dances between your bodies. Static vibrating from your fingertips, you couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped between your lips.

The raindrop that hits you between the eyes is jarring, you blink fast before more start a slow and steady decent splattering all around. Raising a large hand up to try and shield his curls he looks annoyed that Mother Nature was cutting his time short.

“I hate to deliver and dash sweetheart, but I don’t wanna keep you in the rain.” Doe eyes taking in your face like he was trying to commit it to memory he moves to step around you.

Panic rises and constricts around your chest as you watch his retreating form, biting the inside of your cheek you work up enough courage to do something you’ve never done. Make the first move.

“Doyouwannwatchitwithme?” Words jumbled together and almost yelled as they fell out of your mouth, your mumbled nonsense stops him dead in his tracks. Turning around, having his full attention like this was making it even harder.

“Come again princess?” The new nickname threatens to send you six feet under when you feel your knees shake. Clearing your throat you gather whatever confidence you can muster under the intensity of his stare.

“Do you want to come watch this movie with me?” Using it as a makeshift umbrella you start walking backwards towards front door “I actually just got this pretty good shit delivered you should try it.”

The smile that breaks across his face is infectious, feeling it in the way your lips stretch so much it makes your cheeks hurt.

“Oh yeah? I mean if you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about, that guy’s got the best shit in town sweetheart.” The laugh he pulls from you, he swears it makes your face glow. “I’d be honored favorite, I thought you’d never ask.”

—-

Your living room lays in a blanket of haze from two joints successfully smoked, touches lingering more and more as you two passed them back and forth. Half way through the movie you were giggling through cupped fingers leaning into him as you both sank deeper into the cushions of your couch. His bad jokes and over the top commentary kept you both laughing with shoulders pressed together for support. Neither one of you making any effort to move when you both finally calm down.

Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you were mesmerized by how handsome he was this close. Your stare following the curve of his round nose to the fullness of not one but both his lips, a light sheen coating them from being freshly licked. The sharp planes of his jaw lead you to the thickness of his neck, catching the silver chain that disappears into his shirt.

Time is an illusion in your foggy brain - especially under his spell, losing yourself trying to remember every curve and scar on his face you stare long enough to to get caught. Chocolate eyes connecting with yours, the corners of his lips tug up and like looking in a mirror yours do you.

“Hey favorite”quiet enough for just you to hear, there’s a soft rasp in his voice from all the smoking.

“Hey Eddie”biting your bottom lip, his eyes watch the way your teeth scrape across the silk of it.

Leather creaking loud enough to hear over the sound of the movie and the rain outside, he drapes his arm over the back of the couch. The dip pulling you deep into the warmth of his chest.

“Is this okay?”for the first time you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he tries to read the expression on your face.

Nodding you slide a tentative hand up his chest feeling his muscle twitch under your palm, looking up at him you repeat his own question.

“Is this okay?”

His hand reaches up to cup the side of your face, the weed helping you melt into his touch as the pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone. Searching your eyes for any sign of protest he nudges his nose with yours. The heat of his breath fans across your parted lips as your eyes flutter closed completely overcome by him being this close.

“Sweetheart, if I’m reading this wrong please tell me now.” Your top lip brushes with his bottom when he asks the question and you think you might combust if you don’t close the gap.

Tilting your head just enough to get what you want, your lips move together like it was something they’d been doing for years. Each lazy drag setting your skin ablaze.

Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip he quietly asks you for more. Granting him access to something you’re sure you’ll never deny him, you don’t hesitate to let him deepen the kiss.

Tongues meeting each other in the middle, they battle for dominance as your fingers find their way into the thickness of his curls. Tugging slightly, you smile into the kiss when a groan erupts from deep in his chest.

With the rest of the world long forgotten, the two of you stay like this for longer than you can keep track of. Hands exploring curves and grabbing hips, it almost becomes too much when you nip his bottom lip.

Eddie’s the one who breaks away reluctantly when the need for oxygen becomes too much, and his body starts to react a little too strongly to your touch. The screen on the TV had gone blue long ago when the movie ended, leaving your dark living room in its pale bright light. The coloring of it all hitting his face just right.

Nudging his nose with yours he leans his head back against the cushions of the couch. Chocolate eyes looking at you through half closed lids, a lazy smile spreading wide across his kiss swollen lips.

“We should probably stop, and I should probably go.”jutting his bottom lip in a pout he catches the disappointment you try to hide flash behind your eyes. “Not that I want to, I just actually had other stops that I was supposed to make tonight, but it’s not like I was going to say no to you inviting me to hangout.”snorting like that was the craziest thing he could ever imagine, his face lights up when he earns a laugh from you.

“Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed if I was them.” Using his chest to try to push yourself up with your hands, he stops you from getting too far. Collecting your lips one last time, he only lets you pull away enough for your noses to stay touched.

“Besides having a few more drop offs, I’m hoping the next time I kiss you like that is after you let me take you on a date?”catching the nerves in his voice, you couldn’t actually believe he thought you’d say no.

“Bold of you to assume there’s going to be a next time.”raising a brow you do your best to remain straight faced as he narrows his eyes at you.

He brushes his lips lightly against yours again before asking “there’s not?”

Giving in almost instantly you add pressure pushing yourself closer, chuckling as he pulls away, you stop trying to fight the smile that’s threatening to spread across your own face.

“Fine, you caught my bluff.” Huffing in mock annoyance, this time he lets you push yourself up.

It still takes another thirty minutes for Eddie to work up enough willpower to get off the couch, your easy conversation and pouty soft lips making it a near impossible feat.

More stolen kisses and stumbled words fill the empty space on the walk to the front door followed by even more before he finally goes. Sweet just like the nickname he gave you, he couldn’t wait to make you his.

——

taglist: @munsonology @munsonmunster @elthreetimes

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

The Boyfriend Experience - EM

Author's Note: This is very personal to me. I wrote this about my experieces and facts about myself. Which I know isn't very reader insert friendly but as my friend @boomhauer had said, for all I know, I'm not alone in this. This will be a mini series. Idk how many parts it will have but I wanted to do more than one.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x virgin!reader

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of weight, mentions of being overweight, body image issues, body dysphoria, self deprication, sexual experiences, lack of sexual experience, teasing, angst.

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my work onto other sites or social medias. This work is my own and it is owned by me.

Having a large friend group was nice. Nice enough, at least for you. Between the Hellfire boys and the party you were fortunate enough to have many friends. You were close to the party the most over the shared trauma of the upside down and things that go bump in the night. It was easy to be open with them so some topics of conversation didn’t bother you… until certain comments were made. You had never intended to let the information about yourself shift the dynamic of your friendships. At this point in your life, you had reluctantly accepted a fact about yourself when it came to romantic relationships and activities. However, your friend groups learning that you were a virgin even now past graduating high school seemed to change everything. It wasn’t like you wanted to seek out the first willing male participant and ‘get it over with’ as some past friends had told you to do before. You didn’t want that for yourself. It didn’t feel right for you.

The unfortunate thing about it was that no one was into you. That was something you had concluded on your own in your own time. It was either the pudge of your stomach and the squishiness of other parts of your body or simply your personality. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was all of it. You had spent many a time pinching, poking and prodding at your body in the mirror as tears silently slid down your cheeks. Most of the time you avoided reflective surfaces all together as it shattered the illusion of what you thought and wished you looked like. One look in a reflection made your confidence dwindle down to nothing like something small being dropped off of a skyscraper just to shatter on impact at the pavement below. So you wore baggy clothes. Hiding your figure was better than being gawked at for trying to wear clothes other girls, skinnier girls, pulled off effortlessly. The hammer that hit the nail on the head was when you noticed some things. Was it other people’s fault? No, it wasn’t. But when you went out with friends who were deemed more attractive than you and people approached them to talk to them while you stood there, drink in hand. It was hard not to notice. The icing on the cake had been the one time you were left standing at the bar, all your friends off talking to someone in the bar that had approached them while you played with the condensation that dripped down onto the bartop. 

You lacked social experiences. You had never been on a date before, never had a boyfriend either. You had a first kiss at least though it had been a long time ago. How your friends didn’t know this, you had no idea. A rousing game of truth or dare brought this information to light for everyone. The kids weren’t invited as it was an adults only party Steve had decided to throw. The Hellfire boys, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Jonathan and Argyle as well as yourself all sat in a circle with your respective drinks in hand. It had been your turn, so you chose truth, wanting a break for a moment as the dares got more daring as time went on and more alcohol was consumed. Drinking the ‘mega condiment’ as Argyle named it–a mixture of literally every condiment housed in the Harrington fridge–was not on your list of things to drink that night. Especially after seeing Robin gag after taking a sip of it. 

The Harrington house was big enough to house all of you. Not to mention a supplemental bar for when you all ran out of what you brought with yourselves. These ‘adults only’ parties tended to last all night with drinks, food and usually crashing there. At times it was movies or more importantly drinking games that were played at these events. Tonight the stack of playing cards had been retired early in favor of Truth or Dare. Jeff hummed as he thought over what he could ask you. His eyes lit up as he figured out his question. “Who did you lose your virginity to?” He asked you with a grin. It wasn’t uncommon for these question to get more personal and daring the more you all drank. So you weren’t necessarily surprised at the topic but the fact that it had been aimed at you, one of the only single people in attendance. Normally, these embarrassing personal questions were aimed at the couples.

You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment. As everyone waited for their answer, you simply looked away from Jeff and took a swig from your drink to avoid answering. That was one rule that had been put in place. You could opt out by drinking your drink. No questions asked. Or at least, no requirement to answer.

“Must be embarrassed about who it is.” Gareth chuckled with a small shrug as he drained the last of his beer.

“Or she didn’t lose it at all.” Jeff playfully jokes, but something on your face must have given it away as Jeff’s eyes widened in realization. “You haven’t lost it?!” He gasped.

“How? You’re like… in your twenties.” 

“I just haven’t. Alright?” You practically snapped at Gareth and Jeff.

“Well, have you come close? Like on a date getting hot and heavy with someone?” Steve asked, leaning over to hand Gareth another beer after popping the bottle cap off with his bare hand.

“No… I’ve never been on a date so,” You mumbled into your cup as you took another drink.

“You’ve never been on a date?!” Nancy asked, shock written on her face. “I thought Ethan when we were soph-”

“Yeah. He stood me up and made jokes about it for a week after.” You cut Nancy off with a tight smile. “I’m not girlfriend material, apparently. Now if you’ll excuse me.” You pushed yourself off of the floor and headed for Steve’s kitchen to make yourself another drink. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment and you could feel tears threatening to breach the barrier of your lower lashes. At times, you could brave the embarrassment of being a virgin at your age. However now again you found yourself longing for something you had not had the privilege of having. Yearning for a connection to someone who likes you for who you are, not necessarily what you look like. When those feelings hit you, it was hard not to be hurt at the realization that you might never have these experiences. You could hear laughter in the other room, the immediate assumption in your fragile state that it was about you. Your lower lip wobbled as you opened the container of cranberry juice, pouring a full glass of it knowing adding more alcohol would make it harder to compose yourself now and you’d like to leave with a shred of your dignity left intact.

“Enough.” You heard Eddie’s voice snap, presumably at the Hellfire boys as he usually reigned them in. You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks quickly before going to grab the hoodie you had abandoned on the back of a kitchen chair earlier. You needed the comfort, shielding your body away before you trudged back into the room of your friends with your mask back on firmly in place.

Since then, things have been different. Your lack of experiences, lack of romance and lack of self confidence were sore spots for you. Some told you you simply weren’t trying hard enough. As if it were that easy to just make people like you. Or want you for more than just what was between your thighs or under your shirt. As if anyone would want to see that. Since the night of the party, the group made it a point to keep certain topics of conversation to a minimum or overall stopping the conversation when you joined the group. As if they didn’t think you would notice. It was hard to ignore that the topics of recent date nights ceased the second you were close enough to them all. With hushed ‘later’s, ‘not now’s and ‘I’ll finish telling you later’s being the main indication when you manage to hear them.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” You sighed as you crossed your arms over the counter of Family Video, looking at Steve and Robin expectantly. You had heard their conversation when you walked in there but when you approached the counter Steve had quickly shushed Robin from talking further. “What are you both talking about?” You asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” Robin waved you off with a smile as she rang up the movie you had brought over.

“I was just telling Robin about my date the other night. After we had dinner we started getting hot and heavy in my car, went to Lovers Lake to have-”

“Shh! Steve, innocent ears! We have to keep her purity intact.” Robin shushed him, smacking him in the chest.

Your face fell. “Excuse me?” You asked Robin in a clipped tone, not bothering to hide your anger and annoyance.

The air had shifted as had the mood. Robin’s face fell as she realized that her joke had not been amusing to you but instead upset you. “It’s just that… No, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that!” Robin apologized quickly.

You scoffed, pulling your wallet out and throwing cash onto the counter to cover the movie and a packet of Red Vines. “Thanks.” You mumbled, snatching up the movie and a packet of Red Vines before heading out of the store quickly.

—----------

It was movie night. That was the reason for your trip into Family Video that week. The Hellfire group would have a movie night once every week or so. Everyone brought in a movie and you all would decide which ones to watch. You sat on the couch, always having privileges for the couch per Eddie’s orders since in his words: you are the lady here. You sat beside Eddie, sharing your Red Vines with him while he shared his popcorn with you. Since that day in Family Video you hadn’t seen neither Steve nor Robin, actively avoiding both of them. You had mumbled an acceptance of Robin’s apology when she called but hadn’t wanted to see either of them. It got worse though. Almost all of your friends had made a joke about your lack of experience thus far. If there wasn’t a joke about it there was reassurance that didn’t feel so reassuring. Nancy had tried to reassure you that there was nothing wrong with being a virgin still at your age. Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle seemed to be the only ones smart enough to not make any comments about the subject. Something you praised God for. Now it was the end of the week and you were just ready for everyone to move past this once and for all. 

On the screen in front of you was a horror movie. Something you weren’t unfamiliar with. You sighed as you sunk into the couch with Eddie. You watched as two teens snuck away with the intention of having fun with one another and felt your mood sour. You waited for it. Some kind of comment to be passed your way.

“These are always so cheesy and these parts? Boring.” Lucas complained, tossing pieces of popcorn at the screen itself.

“That’s because you’ve never experienced it, Sinclair.” Gareth laughed, nudging the other boy.

“As if he should listen to any advice from you.” Eddie nudged Gareth with his foot.

“I’m full of advice! Good advice!” He argued back with Eddie.

“Suuure you are.” You added, “None of you seem like you’d know what to do anyway. Just fumble and ask where things are.”

“Oh, please!” Freak laughed and grinned at you. “Here’s something we can at least tell you, Y/N.” His tone took on one you would use when speaking to a child, “When a man and a woman love each other, his peepee goes in the hole between your legs. That’s where you put it. In case you didn’t know since you’re still a virgin.”

“Freak, knock it off.” Eddie hissed in his direction.

You didn’t even dignify him with an answer. You stood up, stepping over Gareth and Jeff as you made your way to the door. 

“Y/N?” Eddie called, but you didn’t dare look behind you. Instead, you slid your jacket onto your body, picked up your bag and threw open the door to Eddie’s trailer deciding to leave the movie you rented there.

You hopped down onto the porch, the screen door behind you smacking shut loudly as you bounded off the porch and over to your car. You heard the door open back up behind you and Eddie called out your name again. You ignored him, sliding into your car and peeling away from the trailer park like your ass was on fire. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, ignoring the tears sliding down your cheeks. It was one thing to hear jokes that you were still a virgin. It was another thing to have people demean you thinking you were innocent and didn’t know anything because of it. You weren’t a fucking child. You knew probably more than they did about the female body and what to do. Years of hearing your peers talk about it had been informative enough. 

As soon as you got to your apartment, you shuffled yourself inside and shut the door tightly behind you. You crumbled. You were embarrassed and upset, wanting to just crawl in a hole and forget this week had ever happened. You pulled yourself up, trudging to the bathroom and taking a hot shower before pulling on panties, sweatpants and a tank top deciding to leave the death trap on the floor of the bathroom. You moved to the living room, seeking out a new movie to put on in the hopes it would distract yourself from the disastrous night. You put on one of your favorites before tucking yourself into your couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket and pillow. You only got through about fifteen minutes of the film before there was a knock on your door. You ignored it, favoring pretending you weren’t home or didn’t exist than face whoever was on the other side of that wooden barrier. The knocking came again, harder and more insistent this time.

“Go away!” You called out to the door. You assumed it was Freak, Gareth and Jeff. No doubt sent there by Eddie to apologize for upsetting you. He never let the other guys bother you too much. 

“Open up, sweetheart. It’s me.” The man you thought had sent others to your door was actually the one behind it.

“No.” You called back out. You were thankful that Eddie didn’t make fun of you like the others did or comment on it. But you were embarrassed and felt ugly. 

“Please? I have something for you.” You sighed. Knowing Eddie he would either camp out in front of your door or more likely pick your lock or climb through your window in your bedroom if you didn’t let him in. You pulled yourself up off the couch and went to the door, unlocking it and opening up the door. His smile was wide and bright when you opened the door. His arms were laden with items and he nudged you with his foot. “May I come in?” He asked you, batting his lashes at you.

You stepped aside, letting the lanky metalhead into your home. Eddie moved inside of your apartment quickly and you watched him like he was some foreign entity in your home. Eddie had been in your apartment before but never alone with you. It was always accompanied by one of your friends. He had just never come here by himself. You wouldn’t have thought so though as he effortlessly placed down the items in his arms. He had a pizza box with him, two shopping bags and a backpack on his back. From the plastic bags he pulled out some beer, candy and movies presumably from his own home. “What’re you doing here, Eddie?” You sighed, shutting your door and moving back to your couch. You burrowed yourself under your blanket again, pillow tucked behind your back. “Where are the guys?”

“Well, you left clearly upset, and I kicked the guys out.” Eddie answered nonchalantly. He stopped his movements of sorting out the treats he brought to look at you. “They shouldn’t have said what they said.” He spoke softly, watching you.

You took a breath. “Thank you… You didn’t have to come here though.” You mumbled, crossing your arms.

“I wanted to.” Eddie waved you off. “Now, I’m gonna go change cause we’re having a sleepover. I have your favorite.” He flipped open the pizza box to reveal your favorite toppings. “I will be back!” He took his backpack into your bedroom. You leaned over, assessing the pizza and snacks he had brought with him for you. You took a slice of pizza and gently began munching on it, trying to fight off the negative thoughts about how this food wasn’t good for you and wouldn’t help your situation but only deepen the purple stretch marks on your stomach and thighs.

When Eddie returned, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a faded Judas Priest t-shirt. He dropped down onto the couch on the opposite side of you and picked up a slice of pizza, taking a huge bite out of the food. He settled down, wiggling your blanket out from under him to get under the fabric and be comfortable with you. You both sat like that for a while, watching the movie you had put on and eating the pizza. Eventually one of the movies Eddie had brought with him was put on. You both fell into a comfortable silence but you knew it would eventually break.

As the second movie played you were about halfway through it when Eddie finally spoke up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked you, turning his head to look at you. You turned your head to meet his eyes and felt your walls crumble. You wanted to say no… but with Eddie’s gaze on you, it was hard to compose yourself. You flashed back to what happened not too long ago and over the week in general. You didn’t realize that more tears began to slide down your cheeks. “I’m just so sick of everyone thinking I’m innocent just because I haven’t fucked someone. I’m not an idiot. I’m not a child. I fucking know things.” You sobbed quietly, hurriedly wiping at your cheeks. “It’s not my fault I’m not the kind of girl anyone wants.” You felt the couch shift as Eddie moved closer, the weight of his arm falling over your shoulders. He moved your legs over his lap, tucking you into his side as you cried. “They act like it was somehow my choice. Like I haven’t wanted to have a boyfriend, have sex, go on dates, be loved by someone. If it were my choice I would’ve done all those things! But no one is interested in me. How is that my fault?” You babbled on, tucking your face against Eddie’s chest and finding comfort in the smell of him.

“First of all, they were wrong to make you seem like you don’t know shit. Second of all, you are absolutely the kind of girl people want. Smart people who have eyes and aren’t selfish assholes. I know if you had the choice, you would’ve done those things. Clearly, since this upsets you so much, babe. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time.” Eddie spoke softly, his thumb rubbing your skin comfortingly as he spoke.

“Sure, Eddie. Whatever you say.” You murmured, feeling drained from the week itself. A silence fell over the two of you as you felt your insecurities swallow your mind. “Maybe if I was skinnier… prettier. Like Nancy, smart too.” You mumbled. You gasped when Eddie suddenly moved back. You looked at him and he had moved back to stare at you. What shocked you was the anger on his face.

“Do not. Say that.” He spoke sternly, watching you. “There is nothing wrong with you. Your body, your mind, nothing.”

“But-”

“No!” Eddie frowned, a crease forming between his brows as he showed his unhappiness at your lack of self-confidence. “No buts! Yours is phenomenal, by the way.” He was moving before you could even process what you just heard, your cheeks warming when you realized. He was pulling at your legs. You made a small sound as he pulled you til you were laying on your couch. You adjusted the pillow that had once been behind your back to be behind your head instead, deciding to humor Eddie. You knew him well enough that he would say what he wanted to say whether you wanted to hear it or not. He was never shy to share his opinion, sometimes unprompted. “Look,” Eddie moved on top of you. He straddled your thighs as his hair fell over your face like a curtain. Without thinking about it you moved his hair back from his face. “Hi, pretty girl.” Eddie grinned at you. You pouted at him, using one hand to tug on his earlobe. He whined and winced, “Ow.” he mumbled softly. Eddie’s hands moved from holding himself up above you instead favoring to rest his body against yours. You grunt softly at the new weight but it wasn’t bothering you. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You huff and Eddie grins back at you.

“Shh. Hold on. I’m gonna give you the boyfriend experience, okay. Let me show you how pretty you are.” He shushed you, moving his hand up to your face. His middle finger gently ran over your forehead, moving down the bridge of your nose. Your eyebrows were creased in confusion as you took in what he was doing but your breath hitched in your throat as his lips pressed between your eyebrows, smoothing the crease away. His soft touch moved down over the tip of your nose down to your cupid’s bow before moving over your cheekbone. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You were fumbling as you processed the fact that Eddie Munson was kissing your face. His lips followed his finger as he kissed your cheek bone. More kisses followed over your cheek, jaw and chin. 

“Ed-”

“Shhh,” He softly shushed you again, middle finger moving over your top lip before running over your lower lip. You waited, holding your breath. That breath escaped you when Eddie pressed his lips to yours. You knew what to do, of course, pressing your lips back to Eddie’s but truly you were sure you were a horrible kisser. His hand now cupped your cheek as his lips moved against yours like he was trying to show you what to do. Soon you melted in his embrace, just enjoying kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped but soft and you made a mental note to share your cherry lip balm with him so he didn’t crack his lips. Eddie’s lips left yours though and you whimpered softly as he moved away. A breathy chuckle left him. “You have to breathe, pumpkin. Okay?” He murmured, nose nudging yours gently. Then he was moving again. He tucked his head into your neck, peppering kisses against your skin. He kissed over your collarbones before kissing the tops of your breasts. “No bra when you’re at home? I should come visit more often.” He mumbled against your skin, running his nose over your cloth covered mounds. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a devilish smile on his lips. 

“Gonna come over more often now cause I don’t wear a bra at home?” You scoffed and Eddie nodded against you. 

“Mhm, and cause I can see your nipples through your tank top.” He chuckled and moved his hands down to your hips. His hands moved back up, pushing your tank top up. You reached for his hands but he stopped just under your breasts. “Not going further. I didn’t ask permission yet.” He murmured and shuffled down your body. His nose nudged gently at your stomach, admiring the pudginess that was there. He began scattering kisses over your soft flesh. Over stretch marks ranging from soft pink, barely there to fresh purple ones. You squirmed a little under him, cheeks warming in embarrassment and self consciousness. “You’re so cute.” He mumbled against your skin, looking up at you. You pouted, feeling tears tug at your lashes again. “No crying, baby.” He murmured, “Not wanting to make you feel bad. Just wanna admire you.” You sniffled, gently wiping at your eyes as you nodded down at him. You were unsure of Eddie’s plan. Why he was doing this and how far he was going to go but you were going to give him his time, enjoying the limited attention he was affording you.

Eddie waited for you to calm down before he continued. He kissed over your hips, hands moving to pull your sweatpants down slightly. He pulled the material down over your legs, setting them aside and you froze again. He bypassed your panties which made you pout a little but you knew Eddie had a plan. His kisses continue over the tops of your thighs before moving to kiss the sides of them. He lifted one of your legs, lips moving down your calf and over your ankle before he kissed the top of your foot. When he was satisfied that he had covered you in enough kisses he grabbed your sweatpants and pulled the material back over your legs and settled himself on top of you again once you were clothed again. Eddie had laid himself so his head rested at your neck. One arm snaked under your body while his other hand moved to gently run his fingers through your hair. 

“You can call me crazy if you want,” Eddie mumbled against your skin. “But what if I gave you the boyfriend experience. Doesn’t have to go anywhere. Just… show you what you’re missing.” 

You blinked, thinking over Eddie’s suggestion. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie. You liked him a lot especially once you saw the soft side of the scary looking metal head. You figured you weren’t his type despite the affection he’d shown you tonight. So what was the harm in taking him up on gaining some experience? You hummed softly and stroked your fingers through his hair. “Yeah… I’d like that.” You murmured quietly, feeling the smile that spread over his lips before he pressed a kiss to your throat. 

Eventually the two of you moved so you could enjoy the slightly cold pizza Eddie had brought you both. The two of you ate most of it, tucking the rest into the fridge. You yawned gently as you packed up the snacks and Eddie’s hands gently grabbed at your arms to stop you. He steered you towards your room, shutting the tv off on the way. Inside your room you crawled into bed and laid on your side, figuring Eddie would help himself to wherever he wanted to sleep. The bed dipped beside you and Eddie shuffled closer to you. “An important part of the boyfriend experience, cuddling.” He murmured as he pressed himself to your back. He tangled his legs with yours, holding onto you. You could feel that he had shed his shirt before climbing into bed with you. His hand rested on your belly and you resisted the urge to move it. You didn’t even like touching your own belly but someone else touching the area made you want to crawl out of your skin. After a few minutes though you relaxed enough, gently falling asleep in his arms.

—----------------------------------------

The next morning you had woken up still in Eddie’s embrace. He was holding onto you tightly, gentle snores falling from his lips. You picked up his arm, attempting to wiggle free from his hold at first until he tightened his arm around you further. You huffed but smiled, picking up his arm again and getting free. You padded out of your room to the kitchen and started to brew some coffee. You grabbed what you needed to make some simple bacon and eggs for you both, humming as you did so. As you added some cheese into the eggs you heard him before you felt him. He had just managed to step on one of the creaky floor boards. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you and his head found home on your shoulder. 

“You left me,” He mumbled against your skin.

“I made breakfast.” You answered, plucking up a piece of bacon and offering it to him.

Eddie lifted his head and bit into the bacon, chewing thoughtfully. “All is forgiven.”

You chuckled and shook your head, finishing the other half of the strip of salty pork before returning to moving the eggs around. Eddie removed himself from you to grab the plates you set aside for you both. He held both as you scooped some eggs onto the plates before placing bacon strips onto them. Eddie took them to the table as you popped toast into the toaster and started to make your cup of coffee. Once all the food was ready you both sat down to eat. You found your eyes wandering to the boy that sat beside you. Eddie’s hair was a frizzy mess from sleeping with it loose last night. His torso and arms were toned and not overly muscular. You figured he lifted a lot of heavy things having heard he worked at a mechanics shop now. Blotches of scars were on his arms and torso from where the demobats had feasted on his flesh but you didn’t find them repulsive. It made Eddie look rugged in a way. Even if his nipple and his chest tattoos had suffered because of it. His rings were absent, most likely sitting on your bedside table now.

“Like what you see?” 

You moved your eyes away from Eddie’s chest to look at his face. He smiled at you. A kind, warm smile like you guys had known one another a long time. His big chocolate orbs watched you carefully but as he shifted the sun caught his eyes, turning them amber. You chuckled at the scrunch of his nose and the squint of his eyes as they were invaded by the sun. You stood up, moving to your window and pulling the sheer curtains together. “I like natural light.” You told him, returning to your seat. 

Eddie hummed, picking up your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Thank you for breakfast.” He murmured with another bright smile.

“You brought me dinner last night. It’s only fair.” You reason with a small shrug. When you finish your meal you put your plate in the sink and refill your mug before retiring to your couch once again under your blanket. Eddie joins you moments later, slipping under your blanket and shifting closer to you, arm around your shoulders. You turned the TV on, finding something to watch as you sip your coffee. You only look away when a gentle tap comes to your chin and you turn your head, Eddie lips pressing to yours. 

“Forgot to properly tell you good morning.” He murmured against your lips.

You feel your face warm, kissing Eddie again. “Good morning,” You murmured.

“Good morning,”

—-------------------------

You and Eddie spent the day together. You watched TV, made lunch and finally talked about what you would both be doing. Eddie offered a no strings attached experience, explaining that he would provide you with the experience of what it was like to have a boyfriend and whatever else you might like at no cost to you besides your time.

“You don’t want anything?” You asked, raising a brow at the boy.

Eddie nodded his head. “Nothing.”

“There has to be something you want to be doing this.”

Eddie hummed and shook his head again. “I’m getting it already.”

“What?”

He smiled at you and reached for your hand. “What I want… is you.” He murmured, “Stupid, I know. Me being an option but I’m happy just… filling the role for you. Til you find what you want.”

That was the thing. You didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted to be loved, yes. Someone who wanted you. Which Eddie claimed he was that person. Someone who wanted you. That was something difficult for you to grasp. Why would someone want somebody as imperfect as you are? You were a burden, an issue. Or simply just the thing in the corner that was easily ignored. You simply nodded at Eddie’s words though and leaned over, pressing your lips to his even if you didn’t believe a word he said.

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#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eeddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #tw weight #tw self deprication #tw body dysphoria

[trashmouth-richie]

[vol i] [vol ii] [vol iii]

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie is slowly becoming easier to live with you’re not sure if you’re just used to his disgusting behavior or if he’s truly trying to change. You make a schedule for chores and when/who/what time showers will be taken, chaos ensues on both Eddie and you. Eddie reveals a side of him that reader hasn’t seen/ noticed before.

W/C: 6.4k

A/N: if you were looking for some disgusting! Eddie smut this is the chapter for you babe.

Warnings: NO MINORS! Smut, blow jobs, rough sexual acts, degrading, daddy!kink, vomit, crude language (as if any of my fics don’t have this)

S/O: @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @boomhauer @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @banished-big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @newlips for helping me beta read, come up with dialogue, pacing, letting me insert them throughout the fic, helping me breakdown how this disgusting little mf would act in certain situations + everything in between! You guys are the best! If you aren’t already— follow them.

/

You couldn’t deny that things had gotten better with having Eddie as a roommate (not that you would ever express that to him) but living with the overgrown child was slightly very slightly, like a teeny tiny bit, better than it was before.

After living in his disgusting cluster fuck of a room for a week, Eddie finally sat down amongst his heap of mixed dirty and clean clothes and organized it. The disaster made your eye twitch every time you walked past his room in the morning and got a whiff of his stench, reeking of weed and Doritos, you finally convinced him to get it done, and in typical Eddie fashion— it came with a price.

After bargaining for days and nearly pulling your hair out because all he wanted was a single pair of your panties—

“Why? So you can hold them up like that dork in Sixteen Candles to show all your nerd friends?”

“Babe, the ladies I fuck don’t wear panties.”

He finally settled on a six pack of Busch Light, and for you to do his laundry for a week.

“Remember to separate my delicates, sweetheart.”

Fucking pig.

The only thing delicate about Eddie was his ego when you told him his hair was thinning out on top, (it definitely wasn’t, he had more hair than cousin It) but you needed the upper hand, and criticizing his hair was the way to do just that.

His bed frame and the oak dressers he had ordered, finally arrived. Allowing him to put away his never ending collection of band tee’s and holy jeans. Clearing a path for his floor.

“Holy shit, is that the carpet?” You ask, standing in the door frame before your shift at the salon, toothbrush in your hand, minty dollop of toothpaste atop it.

He’s elbow deep in the dresser, foregoing folding anything but instead shoving the clothes haphazardly into the shallow drawers and slamming them shut with his legs, or his hip.

“Wow, Tooty, you’re hilarious,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, “but since you asked, yes, it does, match the drapes.”

A smile spreads across his lips. Another normal conversation turning into a sexual innuendo. He couldn’t be prouder of the way you walked right into that. Since you told him what happened to Eyeball he really has been holding back his usual gross behavior, but sometimes it was just a slip of the tongue for him. Involuntary action.

You turn to leave but he stops you, crossing the room at record speed and placing a ringed hand on your wrist, the surprising warmth from his hand burning your skin.

“Hey, uh, can I get your opinion quick?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think the groupies give a shit what color boxers you wear.”

“Wow, okay— that’s the wrong answer! But I’m talking about this.”

He points to the shelf crammed full of his odd knick knacks. It originally belonged to Nancy, but she had left it behind. Inside of it were a hoard of books. Lord of the Rings, something that looked like manuals for Dungeons & Dragons—of course he’s still playing that— a plethora of Stephen King books, and a full— more than likely sticky— stack of playboys. Go figure.

“What about it?”

“Do you think it looks good here or should I move it under the window?” Eddie asks, hands out wide measuring and comparing in arms length the distance under the window and the width of the book shelf.

You take a step into his room, every square inch of wall was covered in posters, your former bed sheets graffitied with his band, hung on one wall, the opposite held a kitchen knife stabbed through the drywall.

“What are you trying to do, feng shui?”

“Bless you.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “You sneezed, and me, being the pinnacle Christian son that I am, I blessed you, now should I keep this here?”

It took you a minute to comprehend what the hell just happened and why.

“Blessed by Eddie Munson— that’s the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard,” you snort, a smile twisted on your lips as you look at the overgrown man child huff about where to put his shelf, shoving your toothbrush into your mouth, “looks fine there.”

-

He did start cleaning up after himself, even offering to vacuum the living room in exchange for you making supper most nights. Begging you to make the lasagna again after he ate almost the entire pan the last time. He even decided to get take out on his one night a week to cook. Thank God because you couldn’t handle one more night of burnt, made-in-the-toaster, grilled cheese or using orange juice as a replacement when the milk was gone for cereal.

You learned the hard way that you needed to buy two separate gallons of milk, after watching Eddie drink straight from the jug, a dripping white mustache formed on his upper lip as he licked it suggestively, “Got milk?” He’d ask before roaring with laughter.

-

The next few weeks with Eddie as your roommate went rather smoothly. With you working at the salon and him working long hours at Boom’s Auto shop, you two came home at almost the same time every night. He would show up covered in grease and reeking of motor oil. His work coveralls, branding a white and red labeled patch with his name on them, had the sleeves cut off, showcasing his muscled arms and the wide array of tattoos prickling up and down them, shoulder to wrist. He wore a sweaty bandana wrapped around his head, rotating between a black or a red one, depending on the day.

You didn’t mind doing his laundry since his pockets were always full of either loose bills or the occasional joint, which you would keep, and smoke later with Robin and Steve, giggling watching the stars as you laid out on blankets in the backyard.

On Saturday nights, he usually played with the band, scoring a gig at the Hideout or working at the bar til closing time, helping Tom bartend a little until Walt got back from vacation. He stumbled in at night knocking over a lamp and almost falling backwards down the basement steps. He’d pass out for a greater half of the next day, waking in the afternoon with a raspy voice and smelling like cheap cologne.

One particular Sunday morning, he stumbled out of his room, wearing black boxer briefs, and a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.

“Mornin’” he grumbled opening the fridge and diving in for his notorious pickles, tilting it to his lips and drinking straight from the jar.

You shake your head, sitting at the table and sorting through the mail. Your hair in a clip and wearing an oversized crew neck sweater, your mauve fingernails flicking through the envelope flaps, jotting down what’s due and when. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Eddie.”

He smacks his lips loudly and faces you, fishing a pickle from the jar with his bare hands, “metal has no time limits, Tooty, we play until the bar shuts down.” He makes his way towards you, wearing one sock and chomping on his pickle.

You notice something on his stomach, a new tattoo? Maybe? Riding low on his waist and almost dipping below his underwear. The closer he gets you can make out the writing, a permanent marker phone number from a groupie written on his lower abs.

You point your pen towards his stomach, “gonna get that thing tattooed on, make it official, that Eddie the freak Munson has at least one adoring fan?”

He looks down, a smile pressing on his lips, “aww no need to be sad sweetheart,” he says lowering himself into a chair beside you, “there’s plenty of me to go around, and besides, I thought good little nuns couldn’t fuck, saving themselves for God.. or are you one of the dirty ones, showing your tits for cash so you can gamble?” He winks and laughs as you shove his shoulder trying to throw him out of the chair.

“You’re so gross!”

“And yet, I’m still here.” the Cheshire Cat smile planted on his lips.

Still. You had to admit, no matter how nasty his jokes were or how annoying he could be— having Eddie around wasn’t that bad.

-

“Tooty!” Eddie yells through the bathroom door bouncing from one foot to another, banging on the door with an open palm, “I’m going to piss my pants if you don’t hurry up!”

You had only been in the shower for ten minutes. When you walked past his room this morning with sleepy eyes and a deep yawn, metal music blared from his bedroom along with the annoying beep of his alarm clock, but the prince of filth was fast asleep.

“The schedule that you made says I get the bathroom first on Fridays, which is today!”

The schedule you had designed for Eddie and yourself consisted of 7 vertical columns one for each day of the week, and 5 horizontal columns: showering, laundry day, dishes, cooking, garbage. You had more days in the cooking column than Eddie, just like he had more days in the garbage column than you did. It evened out.

“Wrong— you were supposed to get the bathroom at 7, it’s now past 7:30 so it’s my turn,” you correct, putting a generous amount of body wash on your loofah and foaming it up, white suds cleansing your skin, “not my fault you can’t wake up to your alarm.”

“Christ, seriously just open the door! I’m fuckin’ dancing around out here like a little kid!”

“Can’t hear you,” you sing out to him, laughing silently beneath the spray of water.

You hear the feverish jiggle of the brass handle on the door and heavy footsteps as he stomps away. Oh the joys of victory. You bask in the delight of getting a one up on Eddie. Something that rarely happened in the few weeks he has been living with you. Slathering conditioner in your hair and rinsing, you exit the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day.

Opening the bathroom door you expected Eddie to barrel through you to get to the bathroom, you’re taken aback when you hear faint yelling coming from outside.

“… piss in the front yard of my own house— I will! Go back to trimming your hedges with your toddler sized shorts and mind your own goddamn—,”

“Eddie!”

He’s standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn, his navy boxer briefs the only clothing he has on. Double middle fingers raised in the early morning sky aimed towards your neighbor across the street, Mr. Derry, the neighborhood watch dog. He was an older man, no kids, no wife. Retired. And a grade A pain in the ass.

Eddie turns and looks to you, pink blush creeping over his cheeks, “…business.” Eyes wide in innocence as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

You’re still in your towel, hair soaking wet down your back, watching as this crazed lunatic you have as a roommate terrorizes the neighborhood, one flash of his dick at a time.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the front door.

“Gracing the common folk of Cherry Lane with my morning wood, yeah take a picture and frame it you fuckin’ perv!”

Yanking harder you get him inside and slam the door. Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.

You open your mouth to speak but Eddie has already started explaining.

“Listen, I had to piss bad, like really bad. You could have just unlocked the door but no, Ms. Uptight-independent Tooty with your rules and schedules—” he stops and takes a breath. After your conversation a few weeks ago about the downfall of Eyeball and your own family abandoning you, Eddie had been trying to be more reasonable about things, more cautious about the way he worded things. Not trying to twist the knife lodged into your chest that had been driven there years ago.

“So I made up my own rule! If you’re gonna take forever shaving your legs or…other things…” his eyes cast down your body. The white towel snug against your form, you clutch it tighter around you as his eyes stare through the towel, begging to catch a glimpse of your wet, smooth skin. Water droplets taunting him as they fall down the slick of your hair. He shakes his head to clear his gutter mind. “I’m going to take matters into my own hands, and believe me princess, it was a handful.”

That’s about as dialed back as Eddie could be.

“You can’t just piss in the front yard! This neighborhood is not like the trailer park, that asshole you called a perv—“

“He was! He was looking right at my dick!”

“— once called the cops on Nancy because she parked by his curb when we were having her bridal shower.”

“Wa-wait, Nancy fucking Wheeler got the cops called on her?”

“Yeah, Hop wasn’t too happy to find out what it was for, calling Derry a waste of space.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh I’m not surprised— him and I go way back, remember?”

Of course you did, he busted Eddie too many times driving higher than the Empire State Building while bringing you, Dustin, Will and Mike back to the Wheeler’s. It was almost a running joke between him and Hopper. Eddie would slip him a joint while in the back of his patrol vehicle and away he went, no ticket, no charge, nothing.

“Anyway,” you jeer, pointing a finger into his bare chest, the tip of your nail making a half moon indent into the head of the bloody demon inked on his left pec, “he’s a fucking asshole so don’t piss him off, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“Fine,” Eddie groans, running his hands down his face “but he was gawking!”

You roll your eyes and grab your hair dryer from your room. An adjustment you’ve had to do since Eddie moved in, getting ready partly in your room and in the bathroom. After your hair is dried and styled, you opt for a pair of light wash overall shorts, and a thick strapped, high neck tank top underneath. You finish your makeup by applying a coat of Revlon’s Toast of New York on your lips. Sliding on your knock off Doc Marten sandals, you grab your purse and head for the door.

Eddie’s sitting at the kitchen table, chair pulled out as he laces up his black work boots, body bent over his knee as he jerks his hand side to side, lazily working the laces through the hook eyelets.

“Still getting groceries tomorrow?” He asks, shoving his white cotton covered foot into his other boot, repeating the process. “I added some essentials to the grocery list.” He gestures to the pad and paper with a tilt of his chin.

Scanning the list you laugh, “Dunkaroos are not essential.”

“Don’t you dare cross them off!” Eddie fake shouts, a grin stretching across his lips, showing off his straight teeth.

“I’m off tomorrow and don’t have many clients today— I know it’s your night to cook, but I was thinking of making tater tot casserole for supper, I’ll just have to stop and get some ground beef from Bradley’s before I come home.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie lamented, “I have a gig tonight instead of tomorrow at the Hideout,” he says standing, running his hands down his legs to shake down his coveralls. “It’s probably going to be late, so don’t worry about making anything.”

Ripping the grocery list from the pad and stuffing it into your purse, you think back to how long it has been since you’d seen them play. You went along to support Chrissy and since Eddie was Kev’s longtime best friend and basically your chauffeur, you at least owed it to him to go with. A memory of you head banging and holding Chrissy’s hand tight as you both screamed for Corroded Coffin clouded your mind.

Threading your purse straps through your fingers and casting your eyes downward you have to know, “… you guys still play Lady Evil?”

Eddie grins again, “wouldn’t be a Corroded Coffin gig if we didn’t play some Sabbath, Jeff would probably throw a hissy fit.”

-

Friday evenings were usually busy in the shop. Boom ran a tight ship and paid better than any auto shop in a thirty mile radius. Eddie was lucky to get hired on using his street smarts and the fact that he was the unpaid mechanic of the trailer park for every banged up old sedan that his neighbors had since he was sixteen.

The old radio crackled and fussed as Hank Williams Jr sang about the survival rate of country boys. Boom whistled along with the tune. Running his tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a Mr. Pibb and a ham sandwich in front of him.

“So Eddie,” he says leaning back in his plastic chair, “I heard from the boys that you moved into a house on Cherry Lane. Damn boy, I thought that trailer park ran deep in your blood.”

Eddie throws his empty Mt. Dew can into the trash, missing by a mile. “Ahh Boom, you know I’m the prince of the park. Just stretching my city legs, helping out a friend.”

“Didn’t know you and Eyeball’s sister were close.” Aaron sneered, lighting up a cigarette with a strike of a match against his boot.

Eddie’s light hearted demeanor immediately changed, smile fading and eyebrows pulling together, “what the hell does that mean?”

“Helping out a friend?” Sean spat, his wiry mustache shriveled into a snarl, “what are you Mother Teresa? The only help that bitch needs is a fucking lobotomy.”

“Hey,” Eddie interjects, pointing a greased finger into Sean’s face, “don’t fucking talk about her like that, man.”

Aaron talks around his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table, “It’s true, she’s smokin’ fuckin’ hot but crazier than a shit house rat.”

The pair laugh, choking on smoke and bits of crusty bread.

“Remember what Chad said about her?” Aaron laughed..

“Fuck yeah how did he put that? Don’t marry the girls with the daddy issues, even if they let you put it in their a—”

Eddie slams his fists into Sean’s shirt, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall, “another word, about her— and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose.”

“You threatenin’ me Munson?” Sean chokes out.

Eddies eyes are crazed as he glares in Sean’s, “never a threat, pencil dick, it’s a promise.”

“Fellas,” Boom hollers, shoving his chair back with an eerie scratch, metal legs scraping on broken tile, “I’ll send ya both home for the day with no pay if y’all don’t knock it the fuck off.”

Eddie shoves Sean into the wall hard once more, releasing his grip on his shirt and adjusting his rings. He cracks his knuckles as he stomps back through the bay doors and out to the Buick he had been working on.

Ducking under the hood his breathing is erratic and his fists are shaking.

He never asked what happened with you and Chad but by the sounds of it, it sure as hell didn’t end on good terms.

It was fine if he teased you, but hearing it from anyone else wasn’t gonna fly with him. Not today, not ever. But something about the way you opened up to him, showed him your vulnerable side, it made him almost protective of you, like he needed to shield you from the ugliest parts of the world.

He never would have thought that Eyeball’s little sister, tough little Tooty, the same girl who punched Billy Hargrove in the face after pinching her ass one night, would make him care so much.

-

“Told ya he’s cool,” Steve slurs over his Bloody Mary, clinking the ice in the glass as he tips it back into his mouth, “he’s like a wild animal, but once you get to know him— he’s just a tattooed teddy bear.”

You, Robin and Steve were out for dinner and drinks at Louie’s, the newer sports bar in Hawkins, sitting under an emerald and white striped umbrella in the hot humid summer air. A monthly ritual you started ages ago when you all worked at Family Video. Only back then you went to Benny’s to get burgers and concrete thick milkshakes, racing to see who could finish first which ultimately ended in Robin getting a stomach ache, every time.

“I could have killed him the first few days,” you say, sipping your Malibu and Diet Coke through two neon straws, “honestly, still debating it.”

Robin steals the pickle spear and celery stick from Steve’s drink, munching away and talking with a mouthful, Steve simply rolls his eyes and reaches for another mozzarella stick, “wait, I thought you guys were getting along better now.”

“They are!” Steve interjects, pointing the mozzarella stick around like he was directing an orchestra, “I asked him myself when I brought my car to Boom’s yesterday for an oil change.”

The thought of your friends asking your roommate, who just so happens to also be their friend, how things were going between you both, made your stomach lurch.

“Well,” Robin began, twirling her pina colada and biting into the yellow flesh of the pineapple , “I’m just glad you aren’t by yourself anymore. It freaked me out knowing you were there alone.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Before Eddie had moved in, Steve gave you his prized nail bat to keep by your bed. So far you haven’t had to use it. And with Eddie in the house, it was stored in your closet.

“Alright, I’ll admit,” you say, taking a long drink, feeling the warmth of the coconut flavored alcohol mix with the Diet Coke bubbles, a frenzy on your tongue, “he’s come a long way,” you admit, dunking a fry into the mayo ketchup concoction, “finally house broke.”

It was the truth, you really didn’t mind him being around.

-

“Shh, gotta be quiet girls, daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, but seriously, you need to shut up.”

The girls laugh, drunk off bottom shelf liquor and Jell-O shots from the Hideout. Three pairs of tangled legs stumble through the front door as Eddie hurriedly works his keys into the lock.

The two of them giggle and hush one another, planting kisses on either side of his neck and stepping out of their shoes. His leather jacket hits the floor, the shirt he was wearing was ripped to shreds from the collar down. Carol’s fingers feverishly tore at his clothing before the three of them even made it to the van.

Foregoing the zipper on the tight leather mini dress she’s wearing, Eddie shoves it down her hips, giving her ass a firm squeeze, toying with the fishnet tights, “these stay on,” he demands, slapping her ass and unzipping his jeans, a parade of cheap lingerie, and leather studded clothing start from the front door and end in Eddie’s bedroom.

Your car wasn’t home which was odd but maybe it was parked in the garage. He wasn't sure where you were but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you up. You had never discussed any boundaries about him bringing someone home, but what kind of rockstar would he be if he turned down hot twins?

They had approached him after the show, twisting their evil tongues into his mouth and groping him as soon as he got backstage.

Jeff was in the back room with his long time girlfriend Ash, they were holding each other tight as he kissed her neck and she squealed into his ear.

The girl who showed up to every gig, Marissa, wearing her signature “here for the drummer” shirt, was currently bent over the bathroom sink, Gareth buried deep inside her.

Even Big D was getting some action, the waitress from Benny’s, Emily, was currently bobbing along on his dick.

All of them were getting lucky, a win for Corroded Coffin. The girls were screaming for them, bras and panties tossed on stage, Gareth sporting multiple pairs around his neck. The old bar flies drunk off beer on tap were singing along to the requested songs.

Cece’s pink floral dress is brought over her head as Eddie sucks her nipple into his mouth, teasing and biting as Carol kneels at his feet and works her palm into his boxers, gasping at the hardened length in her grip.

A monster lies beneath the cotton. Almost as thick as her forearm, her dainty fingers unable to reach fully around his girth. She pumps him slow, releasing his throbbing cock.

His fingers twist into their hair as he shoves Cece down to her knees, joining Carol in the worship of Eddie Munson’s dick. Their greedy mouths take him in, one popping his balls into her mouth the other choking on his fat cock.

Eddie wasn’t gentle when he fucked groupies. He took what he wanted and didn’t leave any room for complaints or questions. Shut off from the gentle loving side sex can bring and only seeing red, it was like he was a mad man. A different person entirely. Truly the horns of satan poked through his forehead and his eyes clouded over revealing a black veil of sin.

Demon eyed.

He was pissed from what happened earlier at work. Fucking insane with rage at Sean and Aaron talking shit about you.

Not you, not Tooty.

His frustration builds as the sound of lungs gasping for air fills his ears.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Jesus Christ— don’t you wanna be good for daddy? Open that fuckin’ throat up and take what I give to you.”

He grabs Cece’s hair and thrusts himself in her mouth, ignoring her tears as she gags and swallows him whole. “Are you crying? Poor fucking baby, what a shame, on the bed now.” He grabs her up by the throat and tosses her onto the bed.

He’d kill Chad if he ever saw him again. Still had no idea what he did or why you two broke up but hearing his mantra spill from those asshat’s mouths today was enough to make his skin crawl.

The vulgar shit they were saying. The way they non chalantly said it like they were reciting their McDonald’s order. Fuck that bothered him.

Cock swinging, Eddie pinches Carol’s nipples until she’s standing, he flips her upside down, fucking into her open mouth as he bites her fishnet tights open and spits on her pussy. Tossing her on the bed like discarded trash he slaps both of their asses.

He tries to blur you away from his mind, separate you from his brain for a while to release this pent up anger. But all he can see are the small tears falling from your eyes when you tell him the truth about your family.

The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.

Shaking his head he bounds to his bed, trying like hell to focus on his task at hand.

“Are my little whores ready? Think you can handle this without tearing up?”

-

When Steve drops you off you’ve already puked in his car, twice. When he announced that drinks were on him tonight, you may have been double fisting Jack and Cokes with Robin, and taking vodka shots, racing to see who could finish first.

Robin passed out in the back of his car, snuggled up with the cold leather on her cheek.

“Steeb, I’m fine, seriously! Look how good I’m walking.”

“That’s because I’m carrying you.” Steve huffs as he opens the front door.

You’re slurring your words and talking in a volume that could raise the dead, “You’re such a good friend Stephen, why? Why why why are you single?” You hiccup, the remnants of your vomit lingering on your breath, “You need a wife!”

“Tooty, we can talk about my failed love life another day,” Steve grunts, carrying you into the house, stepping over boots and skimpy clothing, “for now let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and maybe puke in the toilet this time!”

“I just wanna go to bed. I’m tired,” you whine, “Stoven bring me to my room, let me go to sleep!”

Ignoring you, Steve brings you to the bathroom and plops you down on the floor, opening the toilet lids just in time for you to blow chunks all over.

“Ooh that one looks like a mozzarella stick.”

“Jesus, I’m never letting you two idiots drink again! I’m always your goddamn babysitter, it’s so annoying.” Steve laughs, riddling your hair. Ever since you stepped foot into Family Video at fifteen, looking for a job, the three of you were inseparable. “You think you’re gonna be okay? I gotta get that other shit head home before she pukes in the backseat, I already have to clean the front.”

“Oh no! I didn’t know you threw up!”

Steve rolls his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.

“See you tomorrow, I’ll call you okay?” His face is pulled into concern, eyebrows raised and pinched together

You salute him and wave, laughing at his mop of hair flopping around as he turns to leave. Struggling for at least ten minutes to get your denim overall shorts unbuckled, cursing and giggling at your own drunken stupor. You finally manage to get them un done shucking them off your legs, leaving your upper body covered by your tank top, the black panties you were wearing still on. Sliding your arms around your back you manage to unhook your bra and thread it through your shirt, tossing it into the shower beside you. Exhausted, you rest your head on the toilet bowl— falling into a dizzy sleep.

-

“Cece, come here!” Carol whispers loudly. She’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth agape at the sight of the slumped over figure hugging the toilet bowl.

“Holy shit!” She says, emerging from Eddie’s bedroom. “Is that? No fucking way.”

“I didn’t know he was screwing her too!” Carol breathes jealousy spewing from her lips.

“You really think he’d want to fuck that? Look at her! She’s a walking basket case. I heard that her family moved away because she wigged out and tried to kill her own mom.”

“Actually, the rumor is that I killed them all,” you add, raising your sleepy drunk face from the toilet, seeing double and trying not to puke on the spot, you try to stand, using the toilet to support your weight as you push off from it, wobbling horrifically.

“Get the fuck out,” you say, vision dancing as you try to point to the front door, holding onto the sink to stabilize yourself wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, “now.”

“Yeah?” Cece spits, folding her arms across her chest, “you gonna make us? Last I checked we were guests—“

“Not anymore,” Eddie hissed, adjusting the waist of his sweatpants as he looks into the bathroom at your disheveled appearance. Your makeup is smeared from throwing up, you’re half naked and barefoot, clutching onto the sink. Your overalls are covered in puke, and in a heap of vomit on the floor, a purple bra hangs over the edge of the tub. He wedges himself into the bathroom between you and the two girls, covering you with his tall frame from their view. His nostrils are flared and his chest is puffed out, “you heard her, get the fuck out.”

“What the fuck Eddie?!” Carol gripes, looking into his mad eyes.

He glares back, bored with her, “Did you really think you were gonna stay the night?” He prods, “Please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. Get your shit and go.”

“We live across town!” Cece squeaks, face pulled into shock and humiliation.

“Don’t care.”

Carol crosses her arms and glares into his eyes, “It’s late!”

“And?” He asks glaring back, and pushing through them, “Here let me help.”

Eddie takes their purses and shoes, tossing them out the front door into the yard. Pointing to the open door and fuming, he spits, “Out.”

The girls leave screeching ‘fuck you’s’ as they walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.

He turns back to the bathroom, hearing you vomit again, one small glance and he can tell you hit the sink at least, puke splattering all over— the same reaction if you held a spoon under running water.

He turns around and comes back with the cleaner and a roll of paper towels, gagging with each wipe of the sink as he cleans it up.

Your crumbled body is slumped over the toilet again.

“Gonna live? Or should I call the coroner.” He says leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a look of worry on his face.

“ ‘s Robin’s fault,” you mumble, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, “woulda been fine if it wasn’t for the sh—,” you gag thinking of the vodka, “—shots, I’m usually not like this.”

Eddie sits on the side of the tub. You’re wasted and half dressed. He was a lot of things but taking advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t him. He finds your robe hanging in its designated spot, and drapes it across your bare shoulders.

“Sit up a bit,” he instructs. With great effort you sit up, almost falling backwards but Eddie catches you, careful of his hand placements not wanting to graze you in your inebriated state. He helps you sit and you put your arms through the holes of the robe. He reaches gently around your middle to tie it. Putting delicate pressure on your back as he leans you forward towards the toilet. You hum with satisfaction as your face feels the cool plastic of the toilet seat. Fighting the urge to rub your back.

“I’m dying, you can have the house when I’m gone, scatter my ashes in the rose bushes out back.” You say with a whine. Groaning as your stomach churns again, puking up more and more of the mixed alcohol you drank earlier in the night.

“Need some water?” Eddie guesses.

You nod your head, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds you set it back down.

He leaves and comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water, swirly straw included. Tapping your shoulder he hands you the Disney cup, taking a long pull from the straw, you set the cup down on the linoleum floor.

“Thanks.”

“Agh, you’ll be alright. The porcelain Gods and I are great friends— well we used to be back in high school. I haven’t prayed to them in a while,” he says with a chuckle. Sliding down against the wall behind you, sitting on the cold floor.

“Don’t forget the time you and Kev ate those shrooms and puked all night in the basement of our house.” You mutter, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and flushing the toilet.

That was a night Eddie would never forget, he was only sixteen, and he somehow scored some homemade brownies and shrooms from one of the seniors. Being young and dumb, him and Eyeball each ate three brownies and an entire bag of shrooms. The high was insane, but the aftermath was death. He hasn’t touched shrooms since.

“Shit,” Eddie exclaims, “how old were you? Ten?”

“ ‘leven,” you say, holding your elbows on the toilet seat and your head in your palms, “old enough to know you and Kev didn’t magically get the flu at the same time.”

“Man we were dumb,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his chin with his hand.

“Were?” you say slyly.

“Easy, I’m not the one who can’t hold their liquor, Princess.”

“Oh Jesus please no more mention of it or I will barf—again.”

He stands to leave, laughing and stretching his arms out over his head as a small yawn escapes him. Exhausted from the day's events: work, concert, threesome— ain’t no way he’d be up before noon tomorrow— you either.

“Think I’m gonna go to bed, you going to be okay?”

Sitting up and looking at Eddie for the first time tonight, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re drunk, but it’s almost as if it’s the very first time you’ve seen him. His amber colored eyes are surrounded by a forest of black eyelashes, his mop of curly hair hanging in them slightly, smooth pink lips, surprisingly full, a sharp jaw with a days worth of stubble, his veiny neck dances as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His shoulders are thick snaking down to muscled forearms, veins protruding from them, his hands are easily double the size of yours, thick fingers adorned with the same chunky stupid rings he’s worn forever. His broad chest stretches across his ribs, nipples pierced since the 80’s. He stands with confidence. His slender waist with the tiniest patch of hair ducking into the gray waistband of his hanes boxer briefs. And the prettiest alabaster skin peeking out from his collection of black tattoos.

Mouth suddenly dry, you stutter, “I—I’m done throwing up, gonna go to my bed.”

You stand on Bambi’s legs, hitting the wall hard with your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughs and scoops you up making sure he’s holding under your bent knees and around your upper arms. He carries you to your bed, his skin burning hot against your cheek. He lays you down, throwing the blankets over your head for good measure, trying like hell to ignore the flutter in his stomach as you huff and pout pulling your eyebrows inward and frowning as you place your blankets to your liking.

“Get some sleep Tooty.” Eddie says all too softly. Pushing your cute sleepy face from his mind, rocking back on his heels as he starts to leave your room.

“Eddie?” You call after him, your small voice ripping through him like a knife. “Thank you, seriously. For everything.”

Shaking his head back and forth, his wild hair flows like a curtain around him in the dark as he leaves your room, “you owe me,” he says with a small grin, shutting the door behind him.

//

////

/

SEE YOU IN VOLUME: V

[volume: 5]

putting random symbols in hopes that read more will eat this instead of the last paragraph 😩

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#eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR THREE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.7k+

→ a/n: quick question - would you guys like me to include chapter summaries at the beginning of each chapter? is that a thing we'd like lol? lemme know! quick edit: totally forgot to thank @boomhauer for the genius idea of the flip phone!!

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

3:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00

HOUR THREE - 6:00 PM

The pounding on the door is frenetic, nonstop as you stand and make no move to unlock it. It doesn’t take long before Eddie starts to beg.

He tries to repeatedly say your name at first, over and over, voice pathetic and cracking by the seventh time. 

“Just open the door!” he finally shouts in frustration, “I- It’s- Those are private!” 

You look down at the open spread once more, shaking your head, the deviant smile never once leaving your face. “What’s the magic word?”

“Magic word? I- Jesus Christ, you’re fucking impossible!” 

“Sorry,” you say, taking a few steps closer to the door, “‘Fraid it’s none of those.” 

The same thumping from before sounds as Eddie sighs deeply enough for you to hear, and you realize he’s lightly banging his forehead against the door now. 

You start to feel bad, honestly. It was an invasion of his privacy, and if the roles were reversed, you’d be fuming. Kindness wasn’t something you offered to the likes of Eddie, and if he had ever locked you out of your own bedroom and raided your own stash of personal porn, you’d be downright hateful. 

But then you remember his words. 

“Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.”

Maybe he deserves this. Maybe he deserves all the hatefulness and spitefulness you can manage. 

The two sides of your brain bicker, and Eddie continues to thump his head against the door. It’s a losing battle as the kinder part of you wins over. 

You take a step closer to the door, until the wood is all that separates the two of you, “Try again.” 

Your voice is softer and gentler, and not quite as teasing. 

The banging ceases. 

He doesn’t speak for a few moments and you begin to worry that he walked away. That this latest game of cat and mouse has ended, that he’s decided you aren’t worth the trouble. You don’t understand the pang in your chest at the idea – it’s not like this was supposed to be fun. Arguing with Eddie was something that ruined your day, that always strung out your last nerves and led to you grinding your teeth in your sleep. He had just shot to kill with his words to you; you shouldn’t be on the other side of a wooden door with a fickle spark of hope that he’s still waiting for you. 

“Please,” he says in monotone, almost a hint of pain as if to spit the word out was like pulling blood from stone. 

The spark of hope vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared. Already forgotten.

You open the door reluctantly, still gripping the open and curled magazine in your fist, “The magic word was sorry.” 

He wasn’t expecting you to give up so quickly, clear as his head snaps up and he looks over you with genuine shock. 

“Sorry?” he echoes, “You’re the one who stormed my room and stole my… magazine.” 

“And I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t such an asshole.” 

His eyebrows disappear behind his disheveled bangs. “Because I said that I… I wouldn’t care if you disappeared?” 

It’s more than that. You both know it. He says it with restraint, he pauses because he knows that that wasn’t the comment that struck you hardest. 

“I’m sorry,” he swallows his pride with surprising ease, straightening up, “I assumed the feeling was mutual.” 

“Well, it’s not.” 

“You wouldn’t celebrate my death?” 

There it was. You’re surprised he’s even willing to repeat the words. Acknowledging them is the first step, you suppose. 

You want to say no, but instead settle on, “I wouldn’t tell you to your face.” 

You wouldn’t even think it to begin with. Because while Eddie was awful to you, he wasn’t a bad person. You’d seen his ability to play nice with others, to treat others with the respect that they deserved. For some odd reason, you were the only exception when it came to him. Even the strangers that he’d keep up a brooding act with had never met the sharpness of his tongue when he was within proximity to you. 

He opens his mouth, but you don’t think you can stomach an insincere apology, so you lift the magazine into both your views instead, “Whatever. It’s water under the bridge. I’m far more intrigued by this now.” 

The moment he catches sight of the laminated photo, his expression goes from something similar to remorse to a full-fledged blush. Eddie Munson is blushing because you’re holding his Playboy magazine.

His hand shoots out for it, but you’re faster than him, pulling it out of his reach with ease, “Nope! Not so fast, Munson.” 

“Give that bac-” he starts with ardent desperation, following you with each step back you take.

You shake your head and hide the magazine behind your back, “Over my dead body.” 

He goes rigid, as if it reminds him of his cruel words, before his efforts double. There’s no hesitation in occupying your space as he begins to reach behind you to snatch back the private item. 

You’re not quite sure how it happens. It’s a quick succession of mistakes made on both of your parts; he’s grown too determined to get the Playboy back in his grasp, and your mind is solely focused on keeping it away from him. You don’t notice the way your two bodies shuffle farther into the room as you struggle with him. You don’t notice when your knees hit the edge of his mattress. Neither of you do. 

Not until it’s too late. 

One moment, you’re standing upright and Eddie’s arms are wrapping around you. The next, your back is connecting with soft sheets that erupt in the scent of boy upon impact, the entirety of Eddie’s weight now on top of you with a hand trapped beneath your lower back. 

He lets out a soft oof directly into your chest. 

Directly into your boobs. 

Both of you freeze, unsure of what to do. The magazine has fallen to your side, opening to a different marked page, but you can’t even turn your head to properly see it. 

The warmth of him suffocates you, twisting your gut as it sinks into your skin.  You can feel his heartbeat drumming in his ribcage against your own. Racing, racing, racing. Just like your own.

“Get off me,” you grunt, shoving at his shoulders to roll him off of you, the closeness suddenly too much. If you two stay this way a second long, you’re sure you may die. 

As he does lift off of you, still looking aghast, his hand remains pinned against your back. Your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly, a sliver of skin exposed that his palm brushes. It sends shockwaves up your spine. 

Without his weight caging you in, you’re quick to leap back onto your feet, away from him and away from his touch. Your movement must break whatever spell of embarrassment he had been lost in, because Eddie is just as quick as he searches for the Playboy and grabs it so roughly the pages might rip. 

You catch a glimpse of the second marked page. The similarities remain. It could have been the same model, for all you know.

You tell yourself that that’s what it is. It’s not a matter of the model looking like you. Eddie just has a thing for that specific model. It’s all left to chance that you share similar features, that the plush of her thighs resemble yours and that your hips follow the same curve as hers. It’s a coincidence. 

“I can’t believe yo-” you begin to chastise him, chest heaving still as you glare down at him. It must be a residual symptom of anger, of shock. The way your heart hammers is out of contempt. It has to be.

He cuts you off, “That was not my fault.” 

“You were being an…. a….” you falter. You can’t think straight.

“An asshole?” he supplies, sitting up now and looking at you with expectancy. 

Why was it so hard to find your words? This was a dance you’d done a thousand times before with Eddie – the fighting, the bickering, the hurting of feelings and the absence of genuine apologies. What changed? 

His body against yours. The brush of his breath on your chest. His weight firm between your- 

You cut off the ridiculous thoughts and focus on him, “Yes. You were an asshole.” 

He scoffs, “Yeah, well, you’ve already mentioned that. Next time, don’t go through my shit.” 

If you weren’t still recovering, you’d bring up the model looking like you. If you were in your right mind, you’d take that gift from the Universe and put it to good use, sending the dagger straight into his back. 

But your mind has gone hazy for the time being. It swirls with hesitancy and confusion and why the fuck weren’t you laying it into him right now? Where the fuck were you usual words of viciousness? 

“If you’re done staring me down with evil eyes,” he sighs and nods to the clock, “Nancy said we have to send a picture this hour. Or no cash, bet’s off.” 

At first, you’re beyond belief he can brush past it all so easily. It’s damning that it’s only affecting you so vehemently. But then you take a moment to glance over him, to really look at the boy sat on the bed before you.

He’s still blushing, violently so. Rosey cheeks and red nose, his neck aflame with the evidence that he’s not brushing it off. He’s avoiding it. He’s avoiding talking about the magazine, just as he’s avoiding talking about the position the two of you had just been in, just as he avoided apologizing for cruel words spoken so casually. Eddie Munson is avoidant to a dangerous degree. 

“Okay,” you finally supply in defeat. Even if he wasn’t avoiding the topics, what is there to say? 

Oh, hey. I can’t fucking think straight because that’s the closest we’ve ever been after a year of hating each other, and I have no idea why. Care to explain? 

He stands and moves out of the room, down the hallway, to the living room. He doesn’t even check to make sure you follow. You have to pause to grab your phone off of the ground before you’re speedwalking to catch up with him. 

It’s stupid. It’s stupid and ridiculous. 

“So how are we doing this?” he asks once you’re both in the living room. He’s already sitting down on the end of the couch that he’d taken to the first few hours, looking everywhere but you. “Do we just, like, send a photo? Do we take separate photos?” 

“They want a selfie,” you inform him as if he hadn’t been in the room during all of the discussions of the limitations of this bet. As if he hadn’t encouraged it, even.

He nods to your phone clutched in your sweaty palm, “Let’s get it over with, then.” 

“Remind me again why it has to be my phone?” you question, deciding to sit on the opposite end of the couch. As long as you both were visible in the photo, it should be fine. “You have a phone, too. I know you do - Nancy called you.” 

“I do have a phone,” he nods, watching as you unlock your cell and tap until you’ve opened the camera app, “It’s just not a smart phone.” 

You stop all actions, looking up from where you’d just flipped to the front camera setting, “What?”

“I don’t have a smart ph-”

“I heard what you said. What the fuck do you have then? Do you just communicate with two tin cans and a string?” 

He rolls his eyes, but his hand is still moving to his pocket, tugging out a small flip phone, “No, I just have a phone.”

It’s black and shiny, downright tiny as it sits carefully in the palm of his hand on show for you. You have to bite back your laughter. 

“Oh my God. Why do you have a flip phone? Jesus Christ, what year is it?” 

“Fuck off,” he quips, fingers curling around the phone protectively, “I just… I don’t like all the technology and shit. It can get overwhelming, but this?” he holds up the phone for emphasis, gripping it loosely between his pointer finger and thumb as he waves it around, “This is simple. This doesn’t need a new update every week, or to be replaced every year for the shiniest model, or-”

You reach over and snatch the phone from him, and his hand is still frozen in midair, fingers still pinched from where they’d held the phone, “Oh, what’s this? I think it’s ringing. Let me get that for you,” you dramatically flip the phone open, taking some glee in the nostalgic action before bringing the phone up to your ear and humming tauntingly. Eddie still makes no move to stop you, face contorting in bitter amusement at your unexpected antics, “Yeah? Uh huh, okay. I’ll tell him,” it’s even more fun than you remember to snap the phone shut with one hand. It almost has you reconsidering joining Eddie’s anti-technology cause. You face him and try to pull a straight face, but you can’t help laughing at your own joke before you even finish it, “It was the early 2000’s. They’re calling because they want their prehistoric technology back.” 

You’re giggling at yourself as Eddie sucks in a deep breath. He’s about to break, you know he is. The corners of his mouth are twitching terribly, so you go in for the kill. Not the type of kill you had expected to be delivering tonight, but a kill all the same. 

“Also, I had to put the 80’s on hold. I think they’re calling to ask for their hair back,” you nod towards his dark curls, wild and frizzy around his face. 

That’s all it takes for him to break. Right before your eyes, the stoic and cold front that Eddie Munson had put up crumbles. A smile breaks out across his lips, slowly spreading as he shakes his head and his shoulders shake with the effort to withhold any actual laughs from escaping him. 

He has dimples. You’d never noticed that before.

“Fuck off,” he says with a voice still wavering from unheard laughter. You can’t recall a single time before in which he’d said those words to you in such a lighthearted tone. 

“I’m serious,” you press on, still caught up on his dimples, “I think it might be Jon Bon Jovi himself!” 

He snorts. The battle against the laughter is lost as the apartment fills with your childish giggles. 

“My hair is way better than that old assh-” he’s cut off by the sudden buzzing from your phone on the couch. It effectively shatters whatever resemblance of a moment the two of you were having, and you push back the disappointment at that. 

If it hadn’t been the phone, it would have been something else: jokes taken too far, insults tossed out carelessly, one of you remembering that you shouldn’t be joking around this way. You shouldn’t be joking around friends. 

You glance down at your screen and the notifications that have begun to roll in. 

STEVE-O: you guys have a minute before you both owe me $500

ROBIN 🐦: and me!

STEVE-O: and robin

“Who is it?” Eddie asks, leaning over to grab at your phone. Similar to how you had done to him with the magazine, you throw your hand out of his reach, narrowing your eyes in his direction. Unlike with the magazine, he doesn’t make a move to grab it. He keeps as much space between the two of you as possible. 

“Excuse you,” you huff, glancing back down at the group message, preparing to take the quick photo and send it off. 

“What? You can steal my phone but I can’t steal yours?” he questions, almost whines. 

You glance at him, thumbs still hovering over the keyboard, “It was Steve. There, now you don’t need to steal my phone.” 

“Let me respond to him,” he simply makes grabby hands this time, not reaching into your personal space. 

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon.”

“Maybe you should have a smart phone like the rest of us so you could be part of the group chat.” 

“You guys have a fucking group chat?” 

“Yeah, without you.” 

If it hurts his feelings, he doesn’t let it show. He simply pouts in his corner of the couch. 

You’re about to swipe up, hit the camera icon and get the photo over with, but Eddie interrupts again. 

“C’mon, just real quick. I just have something to say to Steve.” 

He’s holding out his palm again. Another buzz of your phone, surely another text from Steve. 

You don’t know why you do it. But you succumb. You take a leap of faith, and you reach out to drop your phone into Eddie Munson’s waiting hand. 

Once it’s in his grasp, he wastes no time to bring it in close to him. For someone who has a goddamn flip phone, he’s quick with his thumbs, typing out whatever message he had been so desperate to send with ease. You don’t notice that you’ve scooted closer to watch him over his shoulder until he’s hitting send. 

Patience, Harrington. We’re just trying to find my good angle. - E

“E?” you snort, “God, first the flip phone, now the cryptic messages. You’re either a serial killer or a drug dealer.” 

He only flips you off as he hands back the phone. 

Finally, finally, you’re able to open the camera app without interruption, stretching your arm out as you turn your back to Eddie and move your hand until you’re both in frame. Eddie keeps his middle finger held high and forces a scowl onto his face. You huff out, trying to not appear entertained before you flash a half-assed smile and thumbs up. 

If the two of you were friends, it’d be a cute photo. 

But you’re not, and as you hit send in the groupchat, providing them with the proof they so desperately crave, you consider deleting the photo. What use will it serve you after tonight? 

You should probably delete the photo, but you don’t. 

“Don’t look so overjoyed over there,” you comment as you finally lock your phone upon seeing the photo successfully sent, “You look miserable.”

“I am miserable.” 

“You weren’t, like, ten seconds ago,” you’re quick to point out, discarding the smartphone onto his coffee table and facing him once more. You’re closer than before, “You were actually laughing at my jokes. It’s okay to admit I’m funny, y’know?” 

You should probably scoot back over and put the distance back between the two of you, but you don’t. 

“You were funny once,” he puts severe emphasis on the once, “That’s a rare occasion for you, sweetheart.” 

There’s something different in the way he enunciated the nickname this time. He doesn’t sound out each syllable with the purpose of annoying you, and instead it seems to slip effortlessly off his tongue. You try to not think too much of it. 

“Bullshit,” you shake your head and refuse to believe, only because you have proof to back your words up, “I’ve seen you laugh at my jokes when we’re out with everyone. You do this stupid thing when you start to laugh, and then you cough into your fist like you’re trying to cover it up. And everyone knows it’s not a real cough because when you really cough, you cover it with your elbow like a normal person.” 

You probably shouldn’t take so much notice of his mannerisms, but you do. 

To emphasize your point, you bring your arm to wrap around your head as if you were coughing, “Like this. Like… Like Dracula or something.” 

He simply stares, one eyebrow slightly raised as he watches you. Normally, you’d interpret look as unimpressed. But something tugs in your chest, and you nearly convince yourself that he’s watching you with mirth. 

“Oh, come on! Stop staring at me like I’m the giant nerd here for referencing a vampire everyone knows,” you complain, finally scooting under the burn of his gaze.

“You’re not a giant nerd,” he corrects, and it almost seems as if his mouth is working faster than his brain as he continues, “You’re a fucking dork.” 

He lets the word hang heavy between the two of you. Dork. A stranger might find it to be dripping in adorement, all because they don’t know better. But you know better, and you know it can’t possibly be dripping of anything. It’s dry. It’s nothing. 

“I’m a dork?” you counter, “You’re the one with an action figure of Gandalf the Great in your living room.” 

“Oh, so you know who Gandalf is? Maybe you are a nerd.” 

The dimples are back. This time, you try to not stare at them, to now acknowledge their existence. Because every time you do, you think of his hand passing over that sliver of skin on your lower back. Because every time you do, you remember the time when you thought there was hope for you and Eddie to be friends. 

For a moment, it’s been easy. The banter has been friendly between the two of you, and if you close your eyes, you could pretend you’re having just another night in with Steve or Robin. Another day of sitting in Nancy’s living room as she asks for your opinions on her latest articles or another afternoon of smoking with Argyle. If you close your eyes, it’s not Eddie you’re here with, it’s a friend.

The realization seems to hit the two of you at the exact same time. All the merriment of the banter drains out of both of you. Eddie clears his throat, and you scoot back to your original placement on the couch. 

You’re not here with a friend. You’re here with Eddie, the boy who has gone out of his way to make you miserable at every chance he’s offered. Eddie, the boy who’s made you cry twice now. 

You probably shouldn’t still cling to the what-could-have-beens of a friendship with Eddie that had long since been buried, but you do.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau

taglist is now closed.

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #i learned a lot about taglists this time around lol #didn't double check formatting bear with me

[angie-likes-to-art]

Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition IV)

My semester is over and I can finally read fanfics again!! and maybe write??? All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Like a Random Tuesday in December by @bimrwolf (18+ Only)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “Reader had always had a crush on Steve, but he is not interested. Yet, when he starts to get closer to her, he realizes he made a mistake because it might be too late.”

Whip it! by @schoopsahoy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x roller-rink!Reader Summary: “steve gets forced into taking the kids to the new roller rink, but he doesn’t mind so much once he meets you. basically just steve being a massive simp for reader.”

Dazed and Confused by @caxde

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you work on Hawkin's music shop, and Eddie is a regular costumer. Your friends (Steve and Robin mostly) help you to gain confidence and flirt with him.”

Start Me Up by @jobean12-blog (18+ Only)

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Your car needs a major tune up but when you meet your mechanic, all you want is for him to tune you up.”

Dreaming of You by @boomhauer (18+ Only)

Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Plagued by graphic dreams about the Munson boy, you decided to see if he can make them come true.”

Sketchbook by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Artist!Reader Request: Could I please request an Eddie x artist!reader story. Maybe he sits next to her in a couple of classes and he sees her drawing in her sketchbook and he’s just like “holy shit that really good” and he asks if he can look at some of her other drawings. She lets him forgetting that she has a couple of sketches of him.

Second Chance by @astermath

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.”

Private Viewing by @lokis-army-77 (18+ Only)

Pairing: Camboy!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary:  “What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?”

Next Caller by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple (18+ Only)

Pairing: College!Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader Summary:  “Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.”

Deal with the Devil (Series, Ongoing) by @hard-candy-writing (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader Summary: “you want to piss off your parents. eddie wants to pass his classes. so you make a deal with each other: he'll date you, you'll tutor him, and you'll both end the year happy. the catch? no falling in love. slow burn romance, enemies to friends to lovers, fake dating, don't fall in love. fic takes place in 1984-85.”

#fic rec #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #steddie imagine #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x you #steddie x you #stranger things #stranger things fic rec #stranger things fan fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #steddie smut

[myobmaya]

Slow Burn | Eddie Munson

Eddie munson x fem!reader (established relationship with mechanic!eddie)

Description: after a long day of work, you just need the comfort of your boyfriend

Tw: smut. just sex with eddie.

for my eddie gir™️l @boomhauer I hope this makes up for the times we bombarded you with Steve (one day we’ll get you to admit you’re truly a Steve girl)

The voices of Metallica blast through the small auto shop off the side of the road in the small town of Hawkins. It’s one of three that the town offers, but the only one that seems to be open closer to midnight.

An orange 1969 Ford Mustang sits in the garage. Eddie Munson lays under the car fixing up some mechanical problems humming the words to his favorite songs. He’s the only one in the shop. His other two mechanics long gone hours ago leaving him alone to work. Or so he thinks.

You lean against the doorway watching the way his foot taps from under the vehicle. Despite the long shift wearing you out, you find enough energy to be at your boyfriend’s shop instead of going home.

Today was a rough day.

You didn’t want to go home to an empty house. You need to be around the person that could make you forget your boss’s lack of help and the patrons cruel words.

Not wanting to startle him, you lean over and stand on your tippy toes to reach the radio that sits on the counter beside the doorway. Your fingers turn the knob down and the music goes from deafening to a more appropriate level.

Eddie’s turning his wrench on a pipe when he hears his voice rather than James Hetfield’s singing the lyrics. He turns his head to the doorway for a clue and sees a familiar pair of shoes.

A big grin spreads like butter across his face and he’s pulling himself from under the car.

Eddie’s eyes squint as the light hits them. The flashlight he had propped under the car gave him just enough light to work with, but not enough for his eyes to adjust.

It only takes him a few seconds for the sting of the lights to go away. Once they do, you fill his sight and his chest fills with warmth.

He grabs the rag that sits on the hood of the car. He makes his way towards you wiping the visible grease from his hands. His hands are stained with the car residue, a familiar sight you’re used to.

You push yourself off the door and meet him halfway.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie greets you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. The other holds your cheek as you entangle your arms around his back. He puckers his lips giving you a quick kiss.

You pull back but keep yourself wrapped up in him.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” He asks, stroking his thumb against your cheek.

You lean your face against his palm. He takes notes of your tired eyes and the worn out look on your face.

It didn’t matter if you tried to hide your emotions. Eddie always held the key to unlock what you try to hide in your head.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. His eyebrows are furrowed as his thumbs stroke your cheek bones.

You shake your head not wanting to talk about work right now.

“I just needed to see you,” you lean forward and steal another peck from him. Eddie smiles cupping your face. He squeezes your cheeks together causing your lips to pout.

He laughs and gives you a peck. Your plumped up lips causing the two of you to enjoy the silliness.

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.” You give him a tired smile. He returns it before glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s nearing midnight. He looks back at you and the needy look in your eyes is enough for him to conclude he’s closing up the shop for the night. The car he was working on can wait until morning.

You let him take one of your hands into his.

He makes his way to the couch that sits to the side of the garage. An area he often used when he needed a break or to catch a nap after long hours.

Eddie takes a seat and pulls you right onto his lap. Your legs settling over his, your arm encircling around his neck as you lean against his chest. His hand rests on your knee holding you closer to him while the other meets your hip.

You feel his thumb begin to absentmindedly trace small circles on the side of your waist. His touch is already setting a flame in you.

He brushes back your hair tucking it behind your ear, “What’s going in that beautiful head of yours, doll?”

The lost look in your eyes tells him you’re swimming in your thoughts. And he’ll do anything to pull you back in.

When you don’t reply right away, he presses his lips to your neck. He keeps it innocent, leaving it as soft pecks as he makes a trail up to your cheek and back down.

“You know,” you take a deep breath trying not to bring yourself to another stress meltdown, “Work took forever. Some days it feels like Satan, himself, is my boss.”

You feel his kisses stop so he can look at you.

Focus on you.

Listen to you.

Your voice comes out as a whisper, “I just hated today.”

Eddie immediately sympathizes with you. He’s had his days, though becoming his own boss has definitely cut down on them. But, he still understands the stress you’ve had and only wants to make you feel better.

His hand moves up to your back, rubbing soothing circles on it. “How can I help?”

Tears spring to the back of your eyes. How can I help? A simple question, yet one that no one bothered to ask today. Most days you don’t need the help. But some days, days like today, it would have been great to have someone show the kindness you needed right now.

Eddie takes the pad of his thumbs and wipes under your eyes. The stress from today pulling down on your shoulders.

You don’t need help anymore. The work day is done. It’s over with. You just need to be engulfed in the person that has always helped you in more ways than one.

Turning to Eddie, you take him in. The white tank top clings to his skin, dirt and motor oil stain it, but he’s never looked better. His sun kissed shoulders are kissed by the recent tattoos lining them. His curly hair is pulled back in a low bun, his go to when he’s working.

There’s something about the way he effortlessly looks so fuckable in his mechanic clothes that makes you needy for him.

Eddie watches your eyes trail over him. The way your tongue peaks out before your teeth suck in your bottom lip gives him confirmation of why you’re here. He knows what you want. But, he needs you to say it.

You meet his coffee colored eyes. “I need you to fuck me.”

Eddie takes your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. He kisses you until you pull away needing air. Your hands tug at the bottom of your shirt, freeing it off your chest before throwing it behind you. It lands on top of the Mustang, neither one of you noticing as Eddie’s hands make work on your bra.

Your bra is tossed onto the ground and Eddie immediately takes your breasts into his hands. He leans down and places open mouth kisses along your skin, licking and sucking every inch of your chest.

His mouth meets your nipple as your hands grip his hair. You feel him groan as you tug on his head, his other hand meeting your other breast. As his tongue circles around your nipple, he lays you back onto the couch.

“Eddie,” his name comes out in a breathless moan as you take in the feeling of his tongue working on you.

He continues his markings on you, working his way down until he stops at the top of your pants. Never letting his mouth leave your body, his mouth lays open mouth kisses to your hips as his hands make work on your pants.

His fingers unbutton them and slide the zipper down before he’s pulling back from you. You lift up your hips as his hands tug down your pants, taking your panties with them.

They’re thrown to the ground and he’s back over you in seconds. The rush of having each other after a long day catches up quickly. He pulls his pants down far enough to grab and pull himself from his boxers.

Your hand immediately goes to your mound, running a finger up and down. Eddie curses out loud, the sight of you naked on the couch in his shop was a wet dream come to life.

He strokes himself as you run your fingers up your wet slit before dipping one in and sliding it up to your clit.

“Baby,” he keeps his eyes on your heat as you rub yourself ready for him.

He hovers over you, keeping one hand beside your head, the other on his length.

“You’re a fucking dream,” his voice filled with lust his eyes full of need.

You grab the back of his neck pulling him to your mouth once more. He holds himself in his hand, guiding the tip of his cock along your wet slit. When he pushes in your mouth falls open, feeling him stretch you out.

“That’s it, baby,” his forehead stays pressed against yours as he bottoms out. Your moans bring a smile to his face as he moves his hips making you feel every inch of him. “That’s my fucking girl.”

The black curls from his pelvis brush against your clit and you swear nothing feels better than being filled up by him. You could have a hundred more bad days if it meant ending them like this.

“Eddie,” you whimper out, wrapping your fingers into his hair. He nods his head against yours leaning down to capture your lips.

He pulls himself in and out of your wet cunt enjoying the sensation of you taking him deeper. “You feel so fucking good.” And he means it. Nothing beats having his cock buried in you after a long day of working nonstop. Needing you even more, his hands fall to your waist. They grip your hips in a tight embrace as he pulls you up with him.

“Come sit on my cock, baby,” he whispers against your lips. You feel him pull out of you, only to sit back and lean against the back of the couch. He grabs your thigh and helps you climb into his lap.

You steady yourself with one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his aching cock in your hand. His hands never leave your thighs, holding them in a tight hold you’re sure will have his fingertips indented by morning time.

He watches as you take his cock and run it up to your clit. You moan feeling the tip against you before guiding it down your pussy and sinking down on it.

Eddie lets out a loud groan seeing your cunt swallow his cock. He sees the ways your eyes flutter and how your breathing staggers. The way you completely give yourself to him sends a shock wave through his cock.

Just him looking at you with that fucked out look on your face is enough to make him cum. You settle your hands on his shoulders before you lean in and kiss him, grinding your hips taking him further.

The way your eyes shut and your breathing staggers brings a grin to his face. He knows you’re getting there.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Eddie groans feeling you squeeze around him. You pick up your pace chasing for release.

His hand leaves your thigh to slip in between your legs. You rest your hands on his shoulder and begin to lift your hips up and down his length.

“You look so fucking good taking me like this,” Eddie praises taking his thumb and rubbing it against your clit. The movement causes your eyes to open. You look down and watch as you fuck yourself on his cock, his hand working on your clit.

Eddie grounds his feet into the ground and sinks his back against the couch. Lifting his hips, he meets yours every time until you’re eventually leaning forward.

Your forehead presses against his as he fucks up into you taking over. His hand never leaves your clit taking all the work from you.

“That’s it, baby. Keep fucking yourself just like that.”

It’s not long before the euphoric feeling you’ve been aching for all day is creeping in. Eddie feels your nails dig into his skin and hisses. The pain mixed with the pleasure of fucking you feels so good.

Your whimpers increase and you’re letting him know you’re about to cum.

Eddie nods against you, telling you to cum. He wants to hear those sweet moans as you let go. He needs to feel your pussy clench around him and milk his cock clean.

Your legs tremble and you’re coming undone, head falling to his shoulder. He groans feeling your pussy tighten around him and he’s grabbing your hips keeping you steady as he fucks you through your orgasm.

He feels your breath against his neck and grips your hips tighter. Your sensitive cunt takes him over and over until he’s spilling inside of you, the feeling nearly sending you over the edge again.

Neither of you move for minutes, basking in the afterglow of your post orgasm haze. You practice regaining your breath, staying put in his neck. His hands move from your waist to your back as he traces small circles on it. Both of you taking each other in.

“You still with me, doll?”

Eddie feels you smile at the pet name. You lift your head and he looks down at you. Eyes tired but the smile he’s been searching for has finally made an appearance.

“Hi,” your voice is soft.

Eddie kisses your forehead. “Hi, baby.” You press your lips against his before pulling back. You look down at your still connected bodies before bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. He helps you steady as you lift off of him, the mess between you two present.

With weak legs you go to the cabinet off to the side and open the drawer where the clean rags are hidden. You pick up your shirt that was thrown on the car, hearing Eddie chuckle.

You clean yourself up, grabbing an extra clean one and make your way towards Eddie.

He gratefully accepts the rag and wipes himself clean as you make work to dress yourself. By the time you’ve slipped your clothes back on, Eddie’s already pulled his pants over his hips.

“Let’s go home?” You suggest looking down at him. It’s late and you’re both done for the day. You pick up a hand and link your fingers through his. He lets out a loud groan as helping him off the couch making you laugh at his dramatics.

His arms find their place around your shoulders, bringing you in to kiss the top of your head.

“Let's go home, doll.”

————

A/N: is tumblr giving anyone else a hard time when it comes to saving drafts? :( I’ve been having the hardest time uploading and posting hopefully this time my paragraphs don’t get double posted and deleted :(

thank you @littlesubbyflower for going in and editing when my mushy brain refused to

thank you to my wonderful beta readers @loveshotzz @strangermarvelss @thefreakofhawkins86

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson

[barleyo]

hey babes, we both share an intense and burning passion for boomhauer, maybe you can write a lil zesty piece about that sexy texas ranger 😏 no pressure, love youuuu ❤️❤️ - atticus ;))

Lone Ranger

Boomhauer X Fem! Reader

A/N: I appreciate requests like this one so much, I was so happy to write this! Two things I’d like to apologize for: firstly, I tried to keep his speech mannerisms as accurate as possible, but it's hard for me to keep authenticity when it obstructs the flow of my writing, and secondly, I’m sorry for how long it took me to finish this! I’ve been gone for so long, so please tell me if my writing skills deteriorated while I was on hiatus. You all deserve my best, and if you don’t think I’ve given it to you, please tell me.

Summary: Alcohol and a bit of friendly competition led to you finding yourself in the arms of a handsome stranger.

The bar’s neon sign lit up your face as you pulled into its parking lot. You got out and walked inside. The scent of liquor and sweet smelling syrup hit you as you walked in, as did the sound of scattered conversation. 

You nod at the bartender and take an empty seat nearby, not noticing the man sitting next to you. 

“Don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,” he said, “I assume you’re not from around here?”

“No, I’m a town over. I thought I’d try something new, but you know how that is,” you said with a sigh.

He hummed in response, slid a menu to you and turned to the other patrons. 

You opened the menu and scanned over it, but nothing stuck out to you. You put it back down on the counter and swerved around in your stool to see the rest of the bar. There was a hallway behind the tables that led to a room with a pool table and large television.

Suddenly you heard a tapping near your spot. Turning back around, you saw a blond man sitting next to you pointing at an item on the menu. 

“It’s good, one of my favorites.”

You nodded and called over the barkeep, taking the man’s suggestion.

“Was it obvious I didn’t know what I wanted?” you asked, jokingly.

“No, don’t you worry, it wasn’t too obvious. You could say I’m just good at reading situations, you know?”

The bartender pushed your drink over to you. You took a sip, and hummed in approval.

“Definitely weren’t fibbing, that is pretty damn good,” you giggled.

“Well, I sure wouldn’t lie to you, girl,” he tossed back his drink and turned to face you more. 

You quickly finished your drink and cleared your throat. Your eyes darted down to his hands, they were well groomed and he didn’t have a ring. 

“So, uh,” you started, “this whole time, I didn’t ask you for your name. Pretty rude of me, sorry about that.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s Jeff, but most everybody I know just calls me Boomhauer,” he said.

“In that case, nice to meet you, Boomhauer. Mine’s Y/N.”

A small smile graced his face, and he ordered himself another drink. After finishing it, he stood up and looked at you. 

“They put one of them pool tables right there in the back room, I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a game or two?” he asked while putting his jacket on.

You nodded and grabbed your purse, walking with him to the back. Once you two got there, he picked up one of the the cue sticks and handed it to you.

“You know how to play, or do you reckon my help could get you started?”

“Oh, I’d appreciate some help, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve played,” you mused.

He stood behind you and positioned the stick in your hands, leaning further into you as he helped you hit the ball. The feeling of his chest against your back sent a shiver down your spine. You allowed yourself to lightly push back against him, bringing your bodies closer.

“Whole game, honestly, is just about angles. I’m talking real trigonometry, that’s what it’s made of.”

His arms wrapping around you made you feel like you were melting. You could barely keep up with what he was saying due to the heat growing in between your legs.

“Oh that was a beautiful hit, mhm,” he praised your attempt, “felt like you didn’t even need me.” 

Your mind went back to game when you felt the lack of his presence over you. He took the other stick off of the wall and took his shot, hitting two balls into the pockets. You let out a small cheer for him.

“I’m glad we’re not playing for money, because you would clear my purse out easily with that much skill,” you chuckled loudly.

He shot you a grin and put his stick back up, coming up behind you again to guide your aim.

The game concluded awhile later with Boomhauer as the clear winner. 

“Good on you, sweetheart,” you gave him a small clap with a bright smile painted on your face, “go ahead on outside to wait, winner. I’ll pick up your tab as your prize.”

After paying, you left a tip on the counter for the bartender. He smirked at you and put down the shot glass he was polishing.

“You know, he comes here often. Chats it up with the girls who come by, takes ‘em home and such,” he laughed, “Though, it seems like he really likes you, lady.”

“You think so, huh? Maybe you’re right.”

You walked out and joined Boomhauer outside.

“Do want me to drive you home? I don’t want you to have to call a cab or anything of that nature,” you asked him, wanting to spend more time with him.

“Oh, man, you don’t have to worry about me none, I’ll be just fine.“

“No, really. I insist! Besides, there’s no point in wasting your money on a cab.”

He reluctantly agreed and pulled up the directions to his house. When you pulled out onto the main road, he eyed the radio knob.

“You don’t mind if I put something on, do you?” he asked.

“Oh, for sure, go ahead. The silence was getting to me too.”

He popped on a local jazz station, humming along to the song playing.

The drive wasn’t long, but the tension you felt in the air made it feel like you were in that car with him for hours. 

You soon pulled into his driveway. He grabbed his keys from his coat pocket, and unlocked the door, holding it open for you.

“Wanna come in, at least a little while? Consider it a ‘thank you’ for driving all the way out here.”

You accepted and followed him inside. He went into his kitchen to grab a bottle of wine for you two, while you made yourself comfy on the red, velvety couch in his living room, sitting right beside the arm of it. 

He returned with two full glasses and the bottle, handed you one, and sat next to you. 

You sipped from your glass and sat in the silence for a few minutes before asking him a question.

“Did you,” you paused, “feel the same way I did tonight? The, like, tension?”

“Sure did, but it wasn’t bad tension, yeah? I didn’t think it was,” he said, “I was doing it on purpose, you know. The whole leaning into you thing.”

You giggled and positioned yourself onto his lap slowly grinding on him. 

“I had a feeling you were, dreamboat,” you unbuttoned your shirt and tossed to the side.

You leaned back and planted kisses down his neck. He huffed, running his hands up and down your body. He cupped your boobs and ran his thumbs over your covered nipples.

“Oh, let me get that,” you stopped rocking your hips and took off your bra, “there, go on, baby.”

He bit at your neck while he pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. 

He pushed his lips onto yours and continued to let his hands travel your body, finally stopping at your clothed cunt. He slipped his fingers past the band of your panties, rubbing circles on your clit. 

Your legs felt shaky and weak as he pushed two fingers into you, curling them. His palm brushed against your clit after every couple of thrusts. The repetitive ramming of his fingers made your walls ache with pleasure, the lusty expression on your face grew tenfold.

He continued to bite and suck on your throat, enhancing the feeling of his fingers. Going down your neck, he left a trail of small, bruise-like hickies. 

You started to contract around his fingers and a familiar heat made its way to your core. You squeezed your legs to ease the pressure of your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out from your dripping cunt. You whined at the loss of the feeling of being full, he popped them into your mouth to silence you.

“Oh, lord, that’s nice, darlin’, real nice. Clean these off for me, alright?” He leaned you over the side of the coffee table and slid into your entrance.

His hands latched onto your hips and he started slamming your body back and forth on his cock. Your nails dug into the wood of the table as you gripped on for stability. Your lewd whines and moans make him quicken his pace, he now reached all the deep, sensitive places he couldn’t with his fingers.

His chest started to rise and fall, and his groans became deep and sultry. He grabbed onto a chunk of your hair and pulled your head back as he pounded into your pussy. You felt your legs squeeze back together as the warm feeling returned to your stomach. 

“Ah, fuck, I’m close, really close,” you squeaked out between gasps.

Your walls scrunched around his cock as you clutched the table further, leaving scratches on the top. He grunted and pushed himself deep inside of you while he came, his seed slowly leaked out as he pulled out. He pulled you back down onto his lap, ignoring the cum dripping on his legs.

“God, you’re something else girl, I’ll tell you that,” he pulled you in for a final kiss.

#king of the hill #smutfic #lemon #fanfiction #barleyxnighteye #boomhauer #boomhauer x reader #adult swim #smut #bar fic #smutty smut smut

[hawkins-losers]

Hi I’m not sure if your requests are loaded with asks but could you maybe to a billy x reader where she spends a lot of time with max and he gets jealous of the attention? Thank you for your time :)

I haven’t re-read this, so I apologize if it’s bad

-

Since you stepped into Billy’s life, Max saw you as a sister figure.

The first time she met you, she was very excited to finally meet the reason why she had to skateboard home every Tuesdays and Fridays. Billy had been reluctant to let her tag along when you were there. He said he didn’t want Max to rat out to his father that he was seeing someone, but you had a feeling that it was because he didn't want to mess up his ‘tough guy’ reputation and expose his soft side.

In your opinion, it was ridiculous. As if his thirteen year old sister would care if he kept his hand on your thigh while driving or that he called you ’babydoll’.

The day you met Max was on complete accident. Billy had invited you for the afternoon knowing Max would be out with her friends, but the morning blue sky turned an angry gray and rain started falling heavily, causing Max to come home early from the skatepark.

Billy had not been happy about her coming home early, but where else was she supposed to go? It was her home too. He almost kicked her out, yelling at the young girl to go to a friend’s house, but you stepped in and told Max she could stay.

After that, you and her slowly became close - much to Billy’s annoyance. She came to you for girl advice and would tell you all about the boy she liked at school - Lucas. Sometimes, you helped her put her hair into braids since her mother wasn’t great at hair and all of her friends were boys. Except El, but she didn’t know how to braid hair either.

You thought it was sweet. Her stepbrother, on the other hand, was a little jealous of all the attention and time you gave her.

‘’Are you coming here to see me, or her?’’ Billy asked, standing in Max’s doorway, interrupting a very important conversation about an upcoming school dance.

You rolled your eyes at Billy’s childish remark. ‘’Are you eighteen or five? Because right now, you remind me of a jealous five year old when someone plays with his favorite toy.’’

Max held in a laugh at your comparison, loving your smart-ass personality. If anyone could talk back to Billy like that and not get shouted at in return, it was you. Only you.

Billy scoffed. ‘’I’m not jealous. I just-’’ He shook his head, not finding anything to say, then left.

You and Max shared a look once he was out of earshot. ''He's totally jealous,'' you said at the same time.

-

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux  @iamharrystyleslover  @matildavol6  @Original_babababoo  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn   @milkiane  @imahomeslice  @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re  @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick  @wandamaximoffs-deadchild  @horrorstreet  @rmeddar123  @Pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys  @lanalanabanana @Sinclairlust  @luvmybbies  @chloepricesgrafitimarker  @inluvweddiemunson   @i-like-trains  

Billy Hargrove taglist: @irlganyuy @mystic-moonpie @italk2god @hope1869  @boomhauer @originalsoulcollector @zosia3666 @bubsonnobx @bonked-beyond-belief2 @evanstanwhore @chrisxevans-seb @jennilynn63 @sugar-simz @Minksblog @braelyn003 @forcemeanakin

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #billy hargrove blurb #stranger things #stranger things imagine #clearing my requests

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Teaching Eddie how to plait your hair ? 👀

Thank you for the request!

Gender Neutral Reader. But the reader has curly hair, specifically.

Fluff. Established Relationship. Did I mention fluff?

Send requests to me here!

Check out my masterlist here!

_______________

Eddie knows he was supposed to have gone in the morning after you two fixed breakfast. He'd come over to your place to watch movies. You two planned for it to go late, but by the time you'd finished the pile of VHS' it was nearly 1 in the morning. You insisted that Eddie just spend the night. You couldn't offer everything he'd need, but you could offer a warm shower, sweatpants to sleep in and if he wanted he could toss his clothes in with your laundry seeing as you had to do a load in the morning too anyhow.

But the pans sizzled and the drier rumbled, you grumbled that you'd have to wash your hair and that it'd take a decent portion of the late morning and early afternoon. The curiosity bubbled. Eddie retrieved the eggs as you worked on the last pieces of bacon--turkey specifically--and the words fell over his lips. "I can help."

You looked over your shoulder to him. His lower half still cladded in the sweatpants. They were ragged, the elastic in the waist on its legs, but you couldn't part with them. Part of you was tempted to see if you could reuse them or fix them up. So they lingered in the bottom of your drawers and Eddie's hips didn't quite fill them out but he knew his way around rigging something to make it work. So they lasted for the night and now well into the morning and now into the blooming afternoon.

You sit on the floor between Eddie's legs. He's dressed back in his t-shirt from yesterday but still wearing the sweatpants. You turn to the side, his knee right in your line of your vision but you focus instead on how you're feeding the three strands between your two hands. "You'll want to always feed into the middle. The strand in right hand is going to go under and between the other two. My left hand has the last three fingers," you wiggle them up at Eddie to see them, "are always free for the middle piece to be feed to them."

You pause. "Is it making sense?"

"Hmm," Eddie starts, the noise painting in a slight uncertainty. "Just go for it, but slow. I think I almost have it."

"Okay. I just remember under and middle. Your fingers will get it after the first couple. The less you think about it the easier it gets," you encourage and then continue with the plait all the way down. You go slow--even though it's awkward and you fumble, finding yourself speeding through a couple of them threads.

You can't see his face, but you hear him muttering. "Middle, under, left, grab right." He chants it quietly. It doesn't even interrupt the sounds of the TV playing around you. But you hear it. You hear Eddie trying to commit to memory the work of your fingers.

You continue down, ensuring you're going slow enough for him to see. When you get to the end, you hold you hand up and Eddie plops the rubber band down. You tie up the ends. "And like that you have a plait."

"It's like magic," he laughs. "But I think I got it."

You know there's more--he's gotta keep a tight and consistent grip for an even looking plait. You know if he doesn't want a lose start he has to keep as close to your scalp as possible. But the most important thing is that he's willing to try. "Give it a try. You can't hurt me," you shrug.

"You underestimate my ability to fuck up everything." It feels like it's supposed to be getting at something deeper than a plait.

But you look up to Eddie, tapping gently at his thigh to get his gaze off the floor. When his gaze finds yours, you shake your head. "You're not going to fuck this up. Now, c'mon. Grab the comb."

Eddie sighs, like there might be something he wants to say, but he grabs the comb from beside him on the couch and parts another section out of your hair. He's careful of any snags and knots, knowing that he doesn't want to break off any hair. Once he's satisifed the section is as thick as your example, he words the strands over his fingers until he's got roughly equal sections.

There's a pause. You can feel Eddie's fingers around the strands, but he doesn't move to get one strand under. You let him sit. The nerves, the worry, it doesn't bother you. He'll start when he's ready. "You sure I don't need any like product on it? Leave in--is that's what it is?"

"Not again for this plait. The next one though, yeah. But you're right. It's leave in conditioner."

It feels good to be right, Eddie thinks. He can and does pay attention. It's just each thought gets interrupted by another slightly related thought so it becomes a train of tangents. But he remembers--under, middle, left takes, right grabs.

Just as you go to play at the ends of the sweatpants, an action of its own to soothe Eddie, he starts to weave the strands. It's slow. Slow enough that you know it's going to be loose and puffy and it might make Eddie said, but it's a start. So you keep still. When he stops for longer than usual, you have to hold back the encouragement. Instead you ask, "Did you get lost?"

"I think."

"Which hand has the most strands?"

"Oh," Eddie laughs. "Figured out where I am." All he had to do was see that he had two strands in his right to get the process started again. He goes down and down. You catch the contemplative hums and imagine that every oso slightly the tip of his tongue is poking out as he mutters his mantra through the plait.

He gets the end and you hear the snap of the rubber band around the ends. "Done," he says, gently dropping the braid down. It's not perfect--objectively not perfect. But it is done. He did it.

"Let me try another," he states. It's definitive. You let it stay declarative and turn and walk him through how to get the leave in conditioner on your hair, how to comb through the strands so it's not a tangled mass and this time with a bit more confidence Eddie starts the braid almost immediately after getting the strands separated out.

He only does one more--for a total of three plaits on your head. You don't even get up to look at them. You just finish the rest of your hair, sitting between Eddie's legs, as you watch through your lashes up at the TV.

When you finish, Eddie follows behind. He's eager to get your thoughts. Before you can get to the bathroom, he's already fretting over his first one. "It's--well, it's not great but the other two look really good."

"Do you want to try it again before I look?" you offer.

"Please," Eddie all but begs. "I can do so much better. I know it."

You turn from the threshold of the bathroom, not even stepping onto the floor and Eddie shuffles behind you back to the couch. He settles first and then you down second. Eddie's quick to get it down and then untangled. You just sit, peaking as much as you can from the corner of your eye. Eddie's faster this time--not as fast as you, but faster than the other two. The rubber band snaps in your ear and you know he's done when he pats his hands on your shoulder.

"So much better."

"Are you proud of the work?"

Eddie laughs, watching you watching him. "I am. But it wouldn't kill me if you said it too."

You shrug, pushing up to your knees. "I think it's more important that you're proud. But let's see this handy work, hmm?" It's easy to give in, to kiss his lips and then push away for the bathroom.

His redo is better, but all three look decent. A little loose but it's getting there. "I look like a god," you beam, looking into Eddie's reflection of the vanity mirror.

He rolls his eyes. "That's a bit dramatic. But I'll take it. So do you think I could have a permanent spot on the hair team?"

"With the right coach, we can get you there," you return, facing him and slipping an arm around his torso. "I can take you far kid."

Eddie's laugher is soft and wispy against your neck. "I'd like to go far with you kid."

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #h writes #stranger things #boomhauer

[roanniom]

Animals

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You and Eddie go camping with Steve and Robin, but when you both go off to get something from the car...you end up getting frisky. That’s it. That’s the fic. 

Note: This was born both from a request from @boomhauer who said “I’d be totally down for Eddie getting freaky on the hood of a car” as well as a post I made earlier today about pet names Eddie would call you. As you shall see, I had him use a record amount and I am rightfully proud of myself. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex / PIV sex / semi-public sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk but really more humorous than anything, alcohol and drug consumption 

~*~

Eddie Munson is a menace. You know this to be true, and you have known it since you met him. But getting into a relationship with him opened you up to a whole new level of extreme. Even though you’d been close friends for years, you’re only just learning now that he’d been holding back facets of his personality. And you’re more than happy to discovery them - more Eddie just meant more to love.

Which is how you find yourself tipsy and traipsing through the woods with Eddie draped around you from behind. You squeal as he rests way too much of his weight on you, arms loosely slung around your shoulders, his chest to your back.

You’re on a camping trip with Steve and Robin, but you all had run out of the first case of beer that you’d packed for the night. Eddie had chivalrously volunteered to make the trek back down the hill to where you all had parked your cars to grab the extra case he’d left in the van. Of course, you’d immediately jumped up and volunteered yourself as bodyguard and guide.

“After all, you can be directionally challenged and the woods are dangerous, pretty boy,” you’d cooed, stepping forward to encircling him in your possessive embrace. He’d smirked down at you.

“Gonna keep me safe, my warrior Princess?”

You’d stepped onto tiptoes and pulled him down for a kiss, whispering against his lips, “I’d slay dragons for you, Munson.”

“Ooookay, so I’m gonna need about four more beers if I’m gonna have to deal with this sickening nerd shit for the rest of the night.” Steve’s voice had broken through your moment, along with the sound of Robin fake gagging.

“Yeah you guys are cute and stuff but can you be cute while, I don’t know, actually getting the beer?” Robin had whined. You’d flipped them both off and grabbed Eddie by the front of the shirt, marching defiantly into the woods while Eddie had thrown a shrug and a wink over his shoulder at your shared friends.

And now you’re stumbling through the trees, feeling Eddie plaster sloppy kisses down the side of your neck from behind. You cause him to almost trip as you come to an abrupt stop, but even that doesn’t cause him to miss a beat in his assault on your skin.

“Got us lost, baby? I thought you knew the way,” he teases between wet, sucking kisses. You sigh in frustration even as you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

“I didn’t get us lost, it’s just…hard to concentrate when you’re…fuck.” You’re laughing in spite of yourself as you struggle to speak, words coming out with a moaning pitch.

“When I’m ‘fuck’?” Eddie questions. He takes advantage of your current stand still to push your back up against the nearest tree. He edges your feel apart and slots his thigh between your legs leaning in to continue his mauling kisses down the front of your throat this time. “Is that an inarticulate way of saying I’m ‘sex literally embodied’?”

“No, you’re a fucking gremlin, Munson,” you gasp out while grasping tightly on his messy hair. Eddie hisses, both from the sting and with faux incredulity.

“You’re turned on by gremlins? That’s kinda sick, baby. Maybe I should let the town know that you’re the freak, not me— ” You cut him off by yanking him down to your level and beginning to kiss the life out of him. He groans loudly into your open mouth and you register that the volume of his sounds has probably scared away any nearby nocturnal wildlife.

You and Eddie are the things that go bump in the night.

Your hand slides down Eddies chest to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his skin below. Just as you do that he lifts his knee so that his thigh slots higher up between your thighs, giving your rolling pelvis something to grind against. You pull away from his mouth to pant heavily.

“Okay fuck, sue me. You’re sex embodied. You happy?” you groan. Eddie chuckles and maintains eye contact as his hands on your waist guide your hips to grind against his thigh.

“Ecstatic. That’s all I wanted.”

Pleasure courses through your veins and you slide your hand down further from Eddie’s chest to meet your favorite package. Straining in his jeans.

“Anything to say about me, pretty boy?” you fish with mischief gleaming in your eyes. Eddie’s lips are parted as he grunts in response to the way you’ve begun palming the outline of his member.

“You’re ethereal. Exquisite. My goddess divine,” Eddie rambles, placing kissing on your throat, jaw, and collar bone between each descriptor. You throw your head back and laugh.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Would ya?”

You bite your lip and nod coyly. As if you aren’t practically jerking him off through his jeans already. As if you aren’t already rubbing yourself to pleasure against his thigh.

Without warning Eddie peels you off the tree he had you pressed against and hauls you forward through the forest.

“Where are we going?” you ask breathlessly, holding onto his arm for dear life as he practically runs.

“The van,” he says as if it was the most obvious answer ever. You dig your heels into the ground to try and make him stop, giggling furiously.

“The van’s that way, you idiot!” you pull him the opposite way. “I fucking told you you’re directionally challenge. Thank god I’m here.”

“My hero!” Eddie pretends to fake swoon onto you and you shove his body away with a smile, running the last few meters into the clearing where the little pull off parking area was which harbored your cars. Eddie chases after you, practically tackling when you reach the van, making you squeal.

“Robin and Steve are waiting...oh...waiting for the beers!” you try your best to gasp out as Eddie descends on your lips, hands squeezing you all over. He’s got you pressed into the side of his van, much more purposefully than he had pressed you against the tree.

��Robin and Steve are drunk,” Eddie replies, moving to sloppily kiss your jaw.

“And you aren’t?” you challenge, jutting your chin up to coax him down to your neck. He happily obliges.

“Drunk on you.”

“That’s cheesy as fuck.”

“Yeah? Let’s see if your pussy agrees with that sentiment.” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at rucks up your skirt, pawing at the front of your panties. He’s met with even more wetness than he expected and his eyes go wide with glee. “Exactly as I thought. This pussy is on my side.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes. But your hands betray you, fingers digging into his arms as Eddie’s digits slip past the hem of your panties to slide through the waiting slick beyond.

“She doesn’t think I’m ridiculous.”

“You are NOT anthropomorphizing my pussy right now.”

“She’s upset you’ve been neglecting her,” Eddie says with a pout, eyes puppy-dog-round even as his fingertip swirls sinfully around your clit. Your hips buck into his hand.

“H-how could I have neglected he - I mean it,” you add on pointedly, glaring daggers at him. Eddie licks his lips which pull up in a smirk.

“She’s so wet and needy and I’ve been right here all along. It’s a crime you didn’t ask me to make it go away.” He leans forward and mouths wetly at your collar bone, pulling down the sagging off-the-shoulder neckline of your oversized sweater.

“Okay stop talking about my pussy like that,” you command without any heat. Eddie nods sympathetically.

“Alright I hear you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Eddie breathes, nosing into the valley of your cleavage. Your head rolls back against the side of the van as Eddie works his finger inside you, the heel of his palm taking over applying pressure on your clit.

“Mmm thank you.” It is gratitude both for the pleasure he is bestowing upon you and for his promise to stop being ridiculous.

“Besides, I need to show some love to my other two favorite girls,” Eddie murmurs sweetly, pulling away from you long enough to lift the lower hem of your sweater up over your breasts.

“Wait, what?”

Eddie’s free hand is on your bare tits immediately, lifting and squeezing and molding his palm against the plush flesh. You groan.

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

“Jesus Christ yourself, sugar tits. You want me to stop being ridiculous, you shoulda had a less spectacular rack.” His voice is affecting a cliche jock-esque accent and he gives you a roguish wink, which makes you swiftly smack him upside the head. He lets out a moan.

“Fucking of course you like getting smacked,” you laugh in frustration. Eddie nods his head vigorously.

“Hit me harder. Come on baby, that the best you can do?”

“Eddie!” you’re rolling your eyes again, but this time they roll back because he’s added another finger inside you. He’s pumping with intention now and your hips roll and your back arches so that your tits are more fully pressed into his touch.

“Slap me? How about choke me a little - just a little!” He’s barely able to get the words out himself through his own gleeful laughter. Deep down you know he’s only partially joking. You’ve seen the way he reacts when your nails dig into his skin. The way his eyes almost cross when you tug too hard on his curls. But something to dig into another night. Because now you’re already rocketing towards that great precipice.

“Fuck, princess. That’s it. Give it to me.” He’s talking about your orgasm. He owns it. It’s his. So you acquiesce. You cum all over his fingers, abdomen stuttering with the force of the contractions as waves of pleasure ricochet throughout your body. You cry out his name and he does his best to muffle the sound by kissing you but you’re sure the woodland animals, and Steve and Robin, and fuck - even god himself - must have heard you.

You’ve barely started to come back to your senses when you feel your back being pressed down against cool metal. Your skirt is bunched up around your waist and your sweater is still gathered up under your under arms, your tits still exposed. Eddie stands between your thighs, ripping open his belt buckle and yanking down his pants and boxers. He pulls out his swollen, hardened cock and strokes it a few times, his other hand pressing down on the crease between your pelvis and your thigh to keep you open and exposed to him.

“Fuck yesss,” he exhales, as if the sight of your practically transparent wet panties stretched across your pussy lips is the exact kind of relief he needs after a hard day. And maybe that’s not too far off. He has been hard practically all day.

Watching Eddie fist his cock is mesmerizing and you spread yourself open even further, welcoming him in. When the outer sides of your thighs also meet cold metal, however, you begin to recognize your surroundings.

“Eddie...” you say as a warning.

“Yeah, my beloved?” he singsongs down at you. He leans over, one arm supporting him beside your head and the other guiding the tip of his cock into your folds.

“We’re...we’re on the hood of a car.” You gasp when suddenly Eddie slams forward, sheathing himself all the way inside you. A million emotions flicker across his contorting face as he tries to calm himself down from the initial squeeze and how good it felt to be inside you again.

“That we are, yes,” he hums, eyes closed against the pleasure.

Your head turns wildly from one side to the other for a full assessment. Your own eyes fly open wide.

“You’re fucking me on the hood of Steve’s car?!”

“Well yeah. The hood of the van is too high up. Wouldn’t be able to get the right angle.” He gives this explanation as if the original question is silly and not worth his time. As he begins to find a rhythm with his thrusts, he places a sweet kiss to your cheek and then forehead. “And I know my baby needs the best angle, isn’t that right?”

“Eddie I can’t fucking believe - oh my god.” He shifts between your legs and tilts his pelvis so that his next thrust hits right at the spot that has you seeing stars. He clocks this positive reaction and doubles down, dedicating all his force and energy on hitting repeatedly into that place. Your fingers scrabble against his shoulders for purchase. “Oh my fucking god.”

“You were saying?” Eddie taunts. Sweat has begun to bead on his brow and he’s panting openly over you now. His thrusts are so hard Steve’s car begins to bounce on it suspension. Your mouth opens and closes a few times but no further words can come out, neither praise nor reprimand. Eddie definitely notices this. “Aw, sweetie. A few minutes with my cock in you and I’ve already fucked you dumb, huh? What happened to that mouth?”

You do your best to glare at him, but your eyes begin rolling back of their own volition. Eddie’s grinning down at you now.

“It’s hot, right? Fucking on Harrington’s car?” He leans further down over you, burying his face in your neck as he doubles his efforts pistoning his cock in and out of you. “Now any time he pulls up you’ll have to remember this. You, flat on your back. Smudging this nice car. Taking my cock so well.”

You let out a hiccupping moan, nodding. Eddie kisses your neck and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you up and down on the surface of the hood now so that your body crashes into his with each forward thrust of his hips. Your pelvises meeting each time with toe-curling force.

You begin chanting his name, in a whisper this time. A big difference from earlier when you screamed his name as he fingered you. The pressure is intense. The situation is too damn wrong and hot and sexy. His lips are stationed at your ear so you can hear every one of his strangled breaths, his moans, even a full on whimper or two.

“Eddie...so...good...I’m...”

“Mmm again, baby? Is it my fucking birthday? C’mon, give it to me again, fuck.”

His words are fucking ridiculous, yet again, and you end up cumming and laughing at the same time. A combination that has you spasming and clamping down on his cock in a way that has Eddie practically convulsing and shouting out. His own release takes him utterly by surprise and he thrusts into you a few more times before biting down on your shoulder and anchoring you to him by your waist. His cock plunges deep inside you and twitches, painting your inner walls. He grunts against you until his cock stills, at which point he laves his tongue across the indents his teeth left on your shoulder.

“I....you...” you struggle to breathe out as you yet again return down to earth from your high. You gaze unseeingly up at the sky above him, your hands squeezing weakly at his back. “I think you killed me.”

“I killed you? I think you squeezed my soul out of my fucking dick, baby,” Eddie barks with a laugh.

“And here I was supposed to protect you,” you joke with a shaky chuckle. Eddie lifts up, propping his hand against the car so he has enough room to press a sweet kiss to your bruised lips.

“You can steal anytime, you beautiful siren.” You kiss him back with feeling, wincing when he pulls out of you and dropping your head back down against the hood. Eddie whistles low and you look up just as he begins pushing his cum back into your dripping hole. 

“Eddie!” you admonish. He gives you a wolfish grin. 

“What? You can’t leak cum all over Steve’s car. What are we, animals?”

He lunges forward and swallows your answering laughter before it, too, can fill up the night air.

~*~

When you arrive back at the campsite, the case of beer tucked under one of Eddie’s arms, you tucked under the other, you’re greeted by a swirling cloud of musky smoke. Robin and Steve peer back at you with dumb smiles and bleary eyes, Steve’s head resting in Robin’s lap.

“Is that from my stash, Harrington?” Eddie asks, dropping the case the floor and pulling two cans out, handing you one. Though it’s an accusation, Eddie is smiling and there’s only amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, you brought the good shit. Thanks for that,” Steve says, his dopey grin getting even wider. He passes the joint he’s holding up to Robin, who takes a long drag. When she exhales, she coughs a little.

“We didn’t think you’d mind. Since you were taking a fucking lifetime with the beer.”

You busy yourself cracking your beer open, sitting down on an open log next to Eddie and looking anywhere but at your friends, willing your embarrassment not to consume you.

“It was a long walk to the car,” Eddie says with a shrug, tossing his arm back around your shoulders and taking a sip of his own beer.

“Yeah and an even longer couple orgasms,” Steve says with a cheshire grin. Robin slaps his forehead lightly and he flinches. “What? Those sounds were spread out. What’d you do, fuck in the forest and then fuck in your van with the doors open?”

You know his loose lips are a product of his high but you gape at Steve’s forwardness, unable to respond. Eddie doesn’t have the same problem. He laughs and shrugs again.

“Well actually we - ,” but he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

“Say another word, Eddie Munson, and I’ll hurt you in a way you won’t find hot.”

“Ooo, kinky,” Robin pipes up, wiggling her eyebrows. She and Steve dissolve into a fit of giggles that builds and builds until all four of you are practically rolling around laughing on the forest floor. The sounds of your mirth definitely scaring away any creeping and crawling creatures who could have considered your little campsite.

Because all four of you are the things that go bump in the night.

~*~

Taglist: @sacklerscumrag @millenialcatlady @theoncrayjoy @cowboy-kylo

@copycatkillerfics @boomhauer @boostilinski @wroteclassicaly @eddiesprincess86 @bambigoth-sims   @chaoschaoswriting  @lassie-bird  @softpshycopath @katsukis1wife @spookyreidd  

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson discourse #Stranger Things smut #fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

[loveshotzz]

There’s a place for me

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: slow burn, angst (Eddie hates himself for running) eventual smut, strangers to lovers. My blog is 18 plus.

A/N: this concept was sent as a request by my irl friend @elthreetimes and as soon as I read it, there was no way it could just be a one shot. It needed to be a series. I feel so lucky that you trust me to bring this story to life, and I hope you enjoy this. Also I couldn’t have done this without my hellfire crew @myobmaya @boomhauer @subparwritersuperbreblogger @sweetsweetjellybean for bouncing ideas and characterizations with me. I seriously couldn’t have written this with out you guys. This is the most ambitious story I’ve ever tried, so here goes nothing. Also bonus points for anyone who guess’s who which character Ron is based off of.

*comments, likes, and reblogs would mean so much if you enjoy my work 💘

For days it felt like all Eddie did was drive, the passage of state signs was his only measurement of time. The hours blending together like the lines on the highway, tangerine skies bleeding vermillion the colors remind him of Chrissy eyes after they exploded inside her head. The beauty of it all being taken away as the image of her crumpled body replays over and over in his mind. With no destination he was driving on auto pilot, only deciding where he was going the third night in.

Hair dripping from the storm outside, his fingers feel bruised from switching out his plates for the third time. Sitting in the back of his van tucked away on the side of a dirt road somewhere in West Virginia, it was the first time in his life he was thankful his dad had taught him a thing or two about evading the law. Stripping off his wet jacket he knew he needed to find somewhere to go. He couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, he didn’t have the money for that. The only cash he had was whatever he’d gotten from his deals earlier in the week, thankful he didn’t spend it on the re up that was suppose to happen the night before everything changed.

He’d never seen the ocean, an elusive place he could only visit in his dreams. Stopped on the boarder between West Virginia and Pennsylvania he wasn’t that far from the east coast. Using his lighter to illuminate the road map he’d found stashed in a messy wad in his glove box he guessed it was maybe a 10 hour drive from the coast. Throwing the idea of sleep out the window with wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable he decided to do what he’s done this whole time, drive.

Watching the early morning sun slowly seep into through the storm clouds the grey sky fades to a more comforting cerulean. Eddie drove with the kind of determination that he wish he’d used to pass high school. Maybe he wouldn’t even be in this mess if he’d just graduated when he was suppose to. Convincing himself he would have been long gone playing guitar in any city that wasn’t Hawkins, he lets himself wallow in self pity till his tires bring him to the ocean.

——

Finding his way into a nameless town that wasn’t even listed on his map, it made Hawkins look like New York City. A small strip set on top a broken battered road - he swerves to miss the never ending onslaught of pot holes. The few shops they had were attached to a single grocery store, the sides of the buildings eroding away from the misted wind. Snorting to himself - of course this is where he ends up, a beach side ghost town. Eddie catches the Help Wanted sign hanging in the window of the diner that lay nestled at the end. Sticking out from the rest, the way it’s lit almost makes it look like it glowing against it’s drab surroundings. It was also the only place he’d seen with any sign of human life.

The lights of The Sleepy Hill motel greet him like the four seasons, when his tired van pulls into the mostly empty lot. The flashing vacancy sign is a promise of a bed, his bones worn down and sore the weight of everything finally kicking in. When his dirty white Reebok’s hit the ground his arms reach for the sky in a kitten stretch of his whole body, eyes closing he relishes in the pops he feels in his spine.

Inhaling a deep breath the salt in the air stings his nose, the mist off the shore making his bangs stick to his forehead. Pulling a runway strand of hair from his cheek he finally takes everything in. On one side of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of tumultuous waves raging against the shore line. The storm clouds he had out run were making their way back through, the lingering bitterness of winter still hanging thick in the March air. It wasn’t like the kind of warmness he’d seen on the postcards, or the in the stories that Rick told, this wasn’t Venice Beach. The sight of a light house in the distance brings a slight feeling of comfort when he watches the strobes of light break through the purple hues of the darkness starting to set in over the horizon. Eyes lingering he lets himself sit in it for awhile watching the waves crash into the broken brick holding it up from falling into whatever laid in the water beneath it. When he turns his attention back to the town that took him less then a minute to drive through, the red “EAT HERE” sign that spun on top of the diner mocks his stomach when he realizes it had been almost a whole day with out any real food.

Slamming his car door shut, he takes quick strides to the back making a mental note to drive to the next town over at some point tomorrow to switch out his plates again, it was too risky to try to do it with any car in a town like this. Eyes darting nervously he opens his back doors with shudder that rings out over the sound of the waves. Furrowing his brows in concentration he starts digging though the blankets in the back searching for the outfit he’d found balled up a few nights ago. Forgotten about after a sleep over at Gareth’s, the memory of a time where his life wasn’t like this hurts in a way that he can’t explain. Maybe he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he was — all the little things he took for granted now at the forefront of his mind.

He hadn’t let himself think about Wayne. Maybe it was the adrenaline that kept his mind from going there, or that thing he’d heard about when your own mind blacks things out to protect you, but he hadn’t thought about what that must’ve been like for him to come home to that.

A life less mangled girl he didn’t know and a nephew that no one was going to find. Eddie just ran without a single thought as to what that would mean for him. Scowling to himself he blames the Munson blood that runs through his veins. Images of his Uncle slumped over with tired shoulders, shuffling into the trailer in the early morning hours when the sun is just peaking through the trees. Boots heavy from another double at work, walking right into the nightmare that Eddie left him with.

Eye’s burning he holds back his tears grabbing the balled up shirt and jeans giving them a sniff. They didn’t smell clean but they smelt better then what he was wearing now and that was just going to have to do. Fingers crossed the motel clerk would let him rent a room with out an ID, he was desperate for a shower. Shoving the garments into his backpack he takes another deep breath ignoring the sting this time, closing his eyes he fights away all the emotions that are ready to spill out. Clearing his throat he cracks his neck before slamming the metal doors shut.

Half way across the pavement Eddie stops in his tracks when he see’s the guy behind the counter. Not much older then him there was something oddly familiar about him, when he glances up catching Eddie in his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair parted down the middle and big teeth protruding from below his upper lip, his beady eyes squint as he tries to figure out what Eddie was doing. The sound of a distant boat horn is what makes his feet finally move again, the boy behind the counter standing up as Eddie closes the distance.

There’s a small chime when the glass door swings open, the warmth of the lobby heats him in a way he hadn’t realized he missed until its hits his skin. There’s an awkwardness that hangs thick in the air when the door closes behind him. Eddie hadn’t talked to another living soul in days besides mumbling the amount of cash and on what pump at gas stations. The man behind the desk who’s name tag said ‘Ron’ was staring at him like he was trying to pin point something familiar about the metal head, and it was making Eddie’s palms sweat. The anxiety of being caught tightening in his chest. Scratching the back of his neck he clears his throat.

“Hi — hey, man I’m uhh- I’m looking to get a room?” He tries to hide how startled he is at his own voice having not heard it in hours.

Ron’s silence doesn’t break much to his dismay as he takes in Eddie’s appearance. Dark eyes trail over his disheveled form before flicking back towards his van in the parking lot. It wasn’t just his palms that were sweating now.

“What’s your deal? You some kinda rockstar or something?” Ron finally breaks his silence, stunned it takes Eddie a minute to comprehend what exactly he’s being asked. When he finally wraps his head around the question he has to actively stop the snort that threatens to come out.

Looking down at his wrinkled hellfire shirt, the cotton is stained with a mixture of dirt and grime from the nights in his van. The whites of his Reebok’s barely visible under the dried up mud from last nights storm. Having caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the door on his way in, he knew his wild mane looked like a bird had laid nest in it.

“Excuse me, what?”

Ron sucks his teeth shrugging.

“You just look like that Van Halen guy, but there’s no way you’d be here if you were actually him I’d reckon.” He says matter of factly before sitting back down in his desk. “And he wouldn’t look like he just rolled around in a pigs play pin. Or maybe he would? I don’t know the life style of a celebrity.” He adds with a wave of his hand.

Stunned and completely unsure of how to respond to the man in front of him, the conversation was not going a direction Eddie had even seen coming. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, not Eddie Van Halen. My name is Eddie though, Eddie umm Henderson.” He winces internally when Dustin’s last name leaves his mouth.

“Eddie Henderson? That’s not very rock and roll.” Ron tuts before looking up at Eddie from his computer.

Feeling his frustration start to reach it’s tipping point, his fists clench at his sides before they release. Running a hand over his face he exhales sharply through his nose mustering up enough self control to answer politely.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Eddie pointedly looks at his name tag before adding with a curt smile. “Ron.”

Arching a brow, the man at the front desk brings his attention back to the computer screen with a hum. The awkwardness from before becomes almost suffocating in the small room. The growing silence between them lasting long enough that Eddie starts to panic.

“Look man, I’m just trying to get a room for a few nights then I’ll be out of your hair okay? I’m not some rockstar who’s gonna trash the place. I’m a nobody.”

Eyes never leaving the screen the sound of the mouse clicking is the only noise filling the space.

“Got an I.D. Eddie Henderson?” Ron’s tone is flat when finally looks up at eddie through the hood of his lashes, his own irritation clear on his blemished face.

The question he knew was coming still stiffens his body when it leaves his mouth, but the thought of another night sprawled out on the damp blankets on the metal floor of his van is enough for the burning sensation of tears to sting his tired eyes again. Shuffling on his feet, he readjusts his backpack.

“I’ve got cash, I can pay for at least two days up front.” Stepping closer to the desk his fingers drum against the counter top nervously, doe eyes pleading to show him a shred of mercy.

“No, I.D. No ro—“

Digging the 200 of the 250 he had left from his pocket, he slaps it on the desk in a crumpled lump. His survival instincts kicking in with a new level of stubbornness he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t leaving until he had keys to a bed and a shower.

“Please, man. I’m begging you.” The tears that had been threatening fall finally breach his strong hold, a single droplet landing onto his bottom lashes. He wipes it away quickly with the back of his hand, sniffing he closes his eyes collecting himself again. “I’ll keep to myself, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Ron’s eyes soften at the desperation is Eddie’s voice, despite policy there was something sincere about the mysterious stranger standing in front of him.

“200 will get you three nights.” Reaching over the counter he grabs the crumbled up bills before standing up, turning to the wall of keys behind him.

Relief floods his body as he watches Ron’s fingers skim over the glistening metal dangling from the dark blue wall. Blinking back tears the tense muscles in his shoulders release some of the stress they’d been carrying for the last 700 miles.

“Room 10, it’s at the very end. No parties rockstar.” Handing over the single key, it hung from a round burgundy keychain, a faded gold 10 stamped onto the plastic. Eddie can’t help but actually laugh this time, his mood lifted for a fleeting moment.

“Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” Snatching the key before he had a chance to change his mind, he clasps both hands together in front of his face bowing slightly in appreciation.

“There’s free coffee in here every morning. If you bring your key to the diner up the road you get a ten percent discount. We don’t have laundry but there’s a laundromat next to the grocery store, it’s open weird hours you’ll have to check the sign.” Ron prattles on, his voice becoming more professional now that Eddie was a paying guest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Walking backwards Eddie kicks the door open, the chill in the air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie Henderson.”

—

The walls of the motel room match the ones in the front office, the sapphire paint chipping at the edges of the ivory trim. The single bed in the middle was covered in a crimson duvet, two fluffed pillows propped against the black head board tempting him enough that he almost throws the idea of a shower and food out the window. Toeing off his shoes, the socks that should be a crisp white are the color of ash and it reminds him just how dirty he really is. Dropping his bag on the floor he starts peeling off his clothes making his way to wash off the last 72 hours.

A satisfied groan falls from between his chapped lips when the heat of the water hits his skin. Tilting his head back he lets it run through his thick tangled waves, pooling at his feet the water is tinged brown. Turning he faces the stream with closed eyes letting it wash over his face as he tries to find peace in his thoughts. The fear seeing Chrissy suspended in the air every time he closed his eyes was what prevented him from the sleep his strained body needed.

After spending longer then he should wrapped up in the warmth of the shower, he can’t ignore the growling in his stomach, remembering the discount at the diner he forces himself out.

The cheap blow dryer makes his hair frizz with more volume then he was used to, holding it down with both hands on either side of his head he sighs exasperated when he lets it go and it bounces back with more force.

Whatever, he didn’t know anyone here and he wasn’t going to be around long.

Changing into his cleaner clothes, he pats down his jeans feeling something in his back pocket. Reaching behind him his fingers come in contact with the thin plastic foiling of a crumpled half full pack of cigarettes he’d left in a drunk mess one night.

“Fuck. Yes.” He mutters to himself feeling a little more like a person rather then just a passenger in his own body for the first time in the last three days.

Grabbing his jacket off the bed nimble fingers search for his lighter once the leather is wrapped around his shoulders. Smirking when he finds it, he heads for the door grabbing his key off the off the dresser. Turning around before he leaves he takes one good look at his new home for the next few days. It wasn’t much but it was better then hiding off on the side roads begging to get caught.

——

The rocks crunch under his feet as he walks up the wounded asphalt towards the diner, the mist in the air taming the poof in his hair as he struggles to get the cigarette lit. The hint of tobacco on his tongue teasing him as the gust off the shore snuffs out the flame every single time.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” dangling in his lips he stops for a second to switch positions so his back was facing the direction of the wind. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Grumbling he snatches it out of his mouth in a huff before shoving it back in his pocket. Keeping his hands dug in into his jacket his face is set in a hard glare as he hits the parking lot of the diner. The inside gleams brightly and it’s the stark contrast to the dark moody-ness of his thoughts and the outside.

There’s families gathered in the windows laughing in the warmth of the light and he does his best to ignore the pang in his chest. Shoving down the realization of just how alone he really is now, he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that yet.

Opening the single glass door of the entrance, the sound of the oldies station plays under the low hum of everyone’s chatter. Red vinyl covering the seats, a row of booths line the outside, the white walls barely visible decorated, covering almost every inch in various collectibles. The long bar attached to the kitchen extends down the length of the restaurant lined with stools.

Unlike the booths, the bar was filled with truckers and waderers. Hunched over their food alone in their thoughts. Taking a seat where he belonged the chain of his wallet clinks loudly against the metal of the stool.

The menu was already laid out on the formica counter top, just a page long the corners of the lamination are creased after obvious years of use. His eyes strain to read the red words that pop out against the white of the paper, the sleepless nights slowly catching up to his body. He tries pulling it further from his face to get a better look completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

“Need some help with the menu?” A melodious voice breaks his concentration. Looking for the owner he comes face to face with you.

Almost as if someone knocked the wind out of him the softness of your features stuns him enough that he can’t find his voice. The dress you wear as a uniform wraps tightly around your curves and he fights his eyes from wandering. Hand on the counter in front of him you lean into his space, the smell of maple syrup hits his nose — sickly sweet he wants nothing more then to close his eyes and bask in it. Your warm gaze lands on his face and it feels like he’s looking up at the bright sun on a summer day. You didn’t look like you belonged here.

Realizing he hadn’t answered you, he clears his throat trying to shake his nerves. He was never good at talking to girls, especially not girls that looked like you and definitely not under these circumstances.

“You’re new around here.” You grin eyeing the slightly disheveled boy in front of you.

“Do you have burgers?” Blurting out his question he closes his eyes embarrassed when he realizes he’s ignored your observation too caught up to think straight. “Sorry.”

Laughing sweetly you take the menu from his hands finger tips brushing against his, the connection making his cheeks blossom pink.

“Sure do, how do you want it?” Pulling out your pocket sized note book from your apron, his eyes catch the red of your nail polish and for some reason it makes his cheeks deepen to match.

“Medium is —uh, is fine.” Scratching the back of his neck he watches the way your pen swoops gracefully against the paper.

“Fries okay?” Looking up at him from under your lashes his breath hitches loud enough for you to hear, the reaction making you bite your lip in a smile.

“Yeah, fries are, fries are great.” Exhaling loudly he gives you a tight lipped smile wishing he could bury his head in the sand.

“Anything to drink?” Ripping the page you turn around slipping it through the small window of the kitchen behind you. The line cook grabs it with a curt nod before you bring the full force of your stare back to him.

“Water is fine.” The sentence is short but he gets it out with out a hitch at least. Rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs he catches the mischievous glint dance around your eyes.

A small knowing smirk plays on your lips before walking away to the drink station at the other end of the long bar.

“Real fucking smooth.” Eddie grumbles to himself catching the attention of the trucker seated next to him.

“If that makes you feel any better son, I think she thought it was cute.” The gruffness of his voice reminds him of his Uncle, the few moments with you had made him almost forget about why he was here in the first place. Guilt slowly starting to eat away at him as he tries to re focus his thoughts, the familiar sting coming back to his eyes.

Before Eddie has a chance to respond your sliding the glass in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull out a straw from your front pocket. This time he’s strong enough to hold your gaze even if the red on his cheeks spreads to his neck.

“It’ll be like 15 minutes, Freddy’s pretty quick.” Nodding back towards the kitchen, Eddie tries to listen to you but he’s too focused on the sheen of your lip gloss. A sharp elbow to his side snaps him out of his trance, his new friend trying to help him out.

“Oh— okay, thanks.” Dropping his eyes down he brings all of his attention to unwrapping his straw, silently scolding himself for being even less smooth then the first interaction. The only reason he knows you’ve walked away is the loss of sweetness that settles in the air in your presence.

Shoving the straw in his drink, the ice clinks loudly against the glass before taking a big gulp. When the water washes over his tongue in a wave of rejuvenation, he closes his eyes humming in satisfaction sucking more then half the glass down before pushing it away with a wipe of his mouth. He can feel what the needed hydration does for him in his finger tips, his brain function starting to sharpen.

Chocolate eyes finding you again, he watches the way you move around the restaurant with ease. Everything you were doing seemed second nature, bending down to meet the kids at eye level he watched the families stare up at you with the same adoration on their faces. It wasn’t just him you effected like that, it was every one.

Cleaning off one of the booths, he watches you bend over the table — selfishly letting his eyes wander your body in the way he’d fought off before. Expertly stacking the dirty plates in your arms, you shove the cash tip they’d left in your apron. Turning on your heel you catch his stare, stopping for a brief moment before your lips tug up in a way that makes him avert his gaze — but even he knew it was too late. He’d been caught.

Closing his eyes when you walk by he inhales deeply, chasing the comfort your scent brings. You smelt like Sunday mornings with his mom, the only childhood memories he was fond of. He watched as you disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen, loud voices greeting you once you were hidden in the back. It was obvious you’d been here for awhile. The urge to try and piece together your story is a welcoming distraction from his own.

You aren’t back there long before you push back through with a toothy grin, shaking your head in amusement. An irrational hint of jealousy settles deep in his gut at whoever was making you laugh like that. The high pitch ding of the kitchen bell brings his attention back to the small window, a burger and fries so warm he could see the steam coming off the bun sit waiting for you to collect. Brain going empty he can feel himself start to salivate, his hunger taking front and center in his mind now.

Too focused on his food he has better self control of his eyes when you go to grab it. Sliding the plate in front of him Eddie mumbles a thank you before snatching the burger, ignoring the way it heats under his finger tips.

Taking a giant bite he immediately opens his mouth at the shock of the burn, his initial reaction to spit it out is stopped when he looks up to see you watching him with crossed arms as you lean against the back counter.

“I would have told you to give it a minute, but I thought that was obvious.” Teasing him, Eddie fans his open mouth searching for reprieve only swallowing it when the pain subsides. Taste buds inflamed and seared he takes another gulp of water basking in the way it soothes his mouth.

“Sorry, I haven’t really eaten all day.” Grabbing a fry he dunks it into the small ceramic cup filled with ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Curious eyes land on yours making him wonder what’s keeping your attention as he eats with out manners.

“So, what are you running from?” Choking on his food at your question his eyes go wide, maybe the news had made it’s way over here.

“W-what do you mean?” Swallowing loudly his appetite suddenly disappears.

“I mean, I’ve never seen you before. People either move here to run from something or they’re just passing through.” You shrug as if your question was nonchalant. “So are you a runner or a wanderer?”

“What are you?” Eddie counters back arching a brow before taking another sip of water.

The smirk you give him is almost devilish when you push yourself off the counter invading his space again. The smell he can’t get enough of swirling around him in a dizzying effect.

“I’m a runner.” There’s something hidden behind your eyes that he can’t decipher when you give him your answer unashamed. “I told you mine, it’s your turn now.”

Of course you weren’t from here, how could you be?

“Runner.” He says simply already nervous he shared too much. Averting his eyes he plops another fry in his mouth before he remembers that this 15 dollar meal was gonna put a significant hole in his remaining funds.

Looking back up from his food he sees you’re already half way down the bar walking he hasn’t even asked you about the Now Hiring sign dangling from the window.

“Hey! — I mean wait.” Eddie’s outburst catches you and half the diners attention and despite his embarrassment he doesn’t miss the way your lips curve up when you make your way back to him.

“Yes?” Raising your eyebrows in question you plant both hands on the counter top in front of him leaning forward a stance that keeps his Eddie swimming.

“I saw your help wanted sign in the window.” Clearing his throat for more confidence “How would a runner apply for said job?”

“You haven’t even told me your name, and you don’t even know what we’re hiring for.” All valid points leave your mouth and he nods with a scratch of his head.

“It’s Eddie, Eddie Henderson.” He said it once and now he just has to roll with it, he’ll apologize to Dustin if he ever sees him again. “I’m not picky, I’ll do anything. Just in desperate need for some cash.”

“Well Eddie Henderson, I guess that means you’re planning on staying here long enough to get work huh?” Tongue poking the side of your cheek he can tell there’s ideas bouncing around in your head.

“Yeah, for a little bit.” Eddie didn’t want to tell you that his time here was numbered in the single digits or that he needed the work so he wouldn’t become completely homeless in the next few days while he ran from the law.

Blowing out a loud breath, you drum your hands on the counter before turning around towards the white board behind you with various names and schedules scribbled on it. He wondered which was you. Grabbing an application from the stack that was pinned on the board you turn back around around pulling a pen from your pocket. Clicking it open you set it down for him to fill out.

Eddie wastes no time in scribbling out his fake information, chest swelling with excitement. He didn’t think it would be this easy and despite your stare making him nervous he could feel his own smile pull at his lips just for a moment.

“I’m just gonna need an ID to show my boss.”

The sentence leaves your mouth and Eddie wants to fucking scream, his grip on the pen becoming so hard he was close to snapping it in half. It was an issue at the motel why wouldn’t be an issue here? It’s not like he didn’t have one, it just had all of his real information on it. Information that had the potential to get him caught.

“I- I don’t have one.” It’s quiet when it leaves his mouth voice shaking and defeated. Meeting your eyes again he notices how they soften as if you could read his mind.

“You moved to a new town without any ID?” You question is gentle when it comes out watching the way his shoulders slump. The first smile you’d seen grace his handsome features slowly fading away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give this to him with out some kind of proof as to who you are.” It’s lame when it comes out of your mouth and you wish it could be different when you watch his big doe eyes glass over.

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the help none the less.” Eddie gives slight nod pushing the application away, his brain already starting to reel with no back up plan lined up. He feels fucking stupid.

Unsure how to comfort the cute mysterious stranger you shove your pen back in your pocket giving him your most apologetic look. The air shifting into something that felt like you should give him privacy— you walk away as he digs for his wallet.

Throwing a twenty on the table, he’s too embarrassed to even ask for the discount. He takes one last big bite of his burger before goes to stand up, the sudden urge to sleep becoming over powering with the hope a better idea would come to him tomorrow.

“Hey, actually.” Your honeyed voice drips through his very obvious despair.

Stopping him before he had a chance to leave, Eddie’s chestnut eyes meet yours in question.

Biting at your bottom lip, he can tell your nervous to ask him whatever was bouncing around in your head.

“Do you know anything about cars?” The thought of your late grandmothers car sitting motionless in your drive way comes to mind and how desperate you were for a pair of working wheels.

“I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can do the basics.” He offers back with a shrug.

“Good enough for me, I live by the beach not far from the motel down the road, it’s a shitty yellow house you can’t miss it. I’ve got a car you can come look at tomorrow, if you think you can fix it I’ll hire you myself.” Eddie doesn’t know why you’re being so nice to him but he’s not going to turn you down the offer. Even if he can’t fix it, he sure as shit was going to figure out how.

“Alright, sure yeah, I’ll come by.” Trying to contain his excitement the smile you’d already missed comes creeping back to his face.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 10? I’ve gotta work at 4 so that should be plenty of time for you to come take a look yeah?” Not wanting to tease that six hours is plenty of time to do a normal check up on a car he just nods instead.

“I’ll be there at 10.” With a nod of his head and the first genuine smile on his face in days, he pushes back out into the developing storm.

——

Head swirling with the events of the day the cheap motel bed moans under his weight as he stares up at the water marks on the ceiling tile. The feathers of the pillows underneath him bring back the heaviness of his eyelids as all the muscles in his body finally relax. The fear of sleep slowly slipping to the back of his mind when the softness of your smile replays on a loop behind closed eyes.

——-

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