#stranger things season 4 x reader

[punk-in-docs]

🕷Was it Love or Nicotine?🕷

Eddie Munson x Reader, one shot.

12k words

Summary: Eddie brings you comfort when you’re sick-

You’re two seconds from bolting out to grab the baseball bat your mom kept in the upstairs closet.

But a familiar voice slithers on in. You catch onto snippets.

“Shit. Motherfucking,sonofa- betch.” Comes unsmothered curses from the underside of your window. There’s another hiss, shaking of a shrub, and a knock. A growl. A stab of a foot hooking onto wood.

That would be Eddie.

Or;

The one where you’re sick, and who should show up at your window, with a can of Campbell’s stuffed in his pocket? That’s right. Eddie Munson.

In case you wanted an Eddie MASTERLIST to peruse-

It starts out along the lines of this; Eddie does keep an eye out for you at school. Of course he does.

His cool chick with the choppy-flicky hair. Self proclaimed music snob with one hell of a sense of humour. His pencils. The one with the magic lips. With that taste of sugar-strawberry lip smacker skated on them.

He couldn’t get over it.

Mind flicked back to thoughts of you over and over. Faded film reel in his head bleached to sepia ghost tones the amount it played out. The way your hands tugged in his lapels for more. That flash white of your smile in the half dark that turned his knees to quivering water.

That gorgeous way you’d pressed an Alice Cooper tape in his hands and told him sternly what tracks to listen too. How hungrily you’d kissed him back like he was your new kind of air-

Remembering the soft press of your fruit sweet lips has all the blood in him racing south. Fuck.

And he can’t help it and he’s more than aware that it might be overstepping the mark. Him looking out.

Fuckin’ Christ. He feels like the Norman Bates character from that movie. Like some perverted creep combing crowds, just hoping to see you dotted among them.

He thinks about you, laying, chainsmoking in his bed with a cigarette wonky to his lips. He stubs it out and lights another. There’s no removing you. You’re like another rush of nicotine in him right now.

You are running bond deep and he can’t reach in and pull out your influence. He lets it stay cause it’s fucking magic. Better than weed and he doesn’t say that lightly-

He thinks about you on the drive to school. He stops to pick up Gareth and Jeff. They chat on the way about the new issue of Daredevil.

Eddie, hard as he tries, has one ear tuned to them, and the other to the stereo in his van. Teeth grit, bumping it with a clenched fist to get it to behave. Metal rings clacking on the dash.

Alice sneers his venomous vocals to a shredding guitar, it just tugs a smile out of him that threads back to you, entirely. Jeff comments on the new tape that wasn’t the same thrashing Metallica or thundering Motörhead.

Nice music man. This new?

His resulting grin is silky smooth.

Yeah. Just picked it up.

They arrive at school and collectively brace themselves, for classes and the picky snide words of their peers. Another day of not fitting in, shouldering the hassle of being an underdog, in Hellfire clad armour.

Instead of a chip on his shoulder, Eddie may aswell have a grating two tonne boulder on there, at this point.

They pile out of the van and split ways for their classes. They say goodbye and he only just finds his tongue to answer.

Simply because he’s half invested. He’s scanning the school parking lot a little more studiously than usual.

He knew you drove a capri. He knows it’s kinda a muddy-mustard colour with a few rust marks eating away at the passenger door.

He recalls that he saw you arrive yesterday with thunder faced Malibu Barbie in the next seat.

She checked her nails whilst you unloaded an armful of sketchbooks and heavy textbooks from the back seat. He wanted to hot foot it over to help you, but the crowds of people milling around made his courage shrink down.

He actually started to step to you- that’s how much he wanted to eat up that distance. But then his brain just hammered into his skull like a fist on a car roof, that he should stop.

 Not yet. Not here. Too early. Too keen, you lunatic.

He vaguely recalls hearing Linda bitching at you about the fact you played Billy Idol all the way there on the drive. Makes his smile crawl across until teeth show. Sounds about right. Atta girl.

He couldn’t hang around. He couldn’t. But he wanted too. It’s a saw tooth edge all mean and scraping into his belly how much he wants too. But he can’t bring himself to act.

He wants to possess the bravery to scamper over there, push Linda out the way on her teetering heels, grab your goddamn face with ring clad hands and kiss you, hard.

Push you up against the side of your car to do it. Like he is the is the picture perfect, shiny haired golden boy in some sappy John Hughes movie.

Feel you squeak against the cup of his mouth in surprise. Kiss you with his tongue flicking at your teeth. Cupping the back of your head. Get the smell of your hair in his nose again. The juicy fruit taste of your lips.

Make out with you, devour you, right here with the whole damn school able to see, and every filthy as sin intention of letting his hands wander over all of you.

Wrap leather arms around you like vines and never, ever let go. Pull you into his chest like he wants you under his skin. He wants to pull a Judd Nelson and punch the fucking sky.

But he’d caught your eye. Just a flash. The sunny gold skate of your resulting smile when you saw it was him makes his insides warmer. Feels better than any pill.

You lock eyes, and it’s like someone has struck cupids red fucking arrow through the meat of his heart. Thud-thud-thudding like it’s climbed up the back of his mouth and clung to his tonsils.

He waves. You wave back. It’s that easy.

For now, just that smile and wave of acknowledgement was enough.

A gorgeous burst of you for just a second across the lot. That was yesterday.

He looks around today, as he jiggles his van keys in his hands. Keychains scraping together all jagged in his palm. Scanning for anything that resembled you or the Capri. Or, heaven forfend, the poofy cloud of blonde curls that belonged to your greek harpy of a friend.

He can’t see either.

He chews the inside of his lower lip. Eyes flick to the lot entrance. Nothing there still spilling in resembled you, either.

A grainy brown station wagon lumbers into park not far from him. Lurching clumsily onto a space. He watches a beefy letterman jock climb out and scrape his ridiculous golden Rob Lowe mullet back on his head.

The other side, the passenger door opens and a poodle bouffant of spilling blonde starts bouncing out.

He watches your friend get out. Join hands with her ape of a boyfriend, and flounce on into school. All legs and those maraschino-red heels, in another one of her short denim skirts. Hot pink jewellery hanging off her ears and wrists.

And you’re nowhere to be seen. That doesn’t square well on him. It sticks like something lumpy in his throat.

He hot foots it to class cause the last thing he needs is another tardy mark against his already pretty dashed reputation. But you cycle on loop through his head way more than any of his schoolwork probably should.

He’s never really been any good at staying still, or paying attention to much in his life. He is too erratic. Too lost to fantasy at times. Busy elsewhere.

He bounced his knees. He fiddled with his rings, doodled DND character concepts, or horned skulls on the margins of his schoolbooks, rather than actually turning his eyes to the board at any point. Some things really have to hook his flighty interest to warrant earning it full time.

He’s always had half his head stuck somewhere else. Even worse now you’d snatched up the rest of his already limited attention span.

It might be that you’ve hitched a ride to school. Car troubles? Maybe you overslept? Some shit like that. Some circumstance that had delayed you.

He drifts through his day. Decided to shake up his usual route after the bell rings for lunch. He doesn’t drift straight to the canteen, probably in time to hear a braindead slur aimed his way from Jason and his goons. Or he’d have to listen for the tenth time as Jeff argued with Sinclair about armour classes.

He swings by the clay scented halls of the school art department. A place - it had to be said - he never really had a lot of cause to go. It’s definitely new territory to embark on.

The walls are pinned with cork boards full of charcoal drawings and art history posters. Seurat, Poussin and Van Gogh’s twisting almond branches on midnight blue. Sad pot plants droop on a low table by a sun drenched window. The scent here is all stale paint and dried claggy clay.

He idles past a couple classrooms. Armies of easels in one where students are happily settled. Drawing a bowl of plump fruit on a goddamn podium. The room at the end is dusty and he’s guessing that’s where the potters wheels and reeking scent of clay is coming from.

He dodged a wall of students armed with wide flat sketchbooks and charcoal stained fingers. They frown at him in bewilderment like he doesn’t belong. A cat amongst the pigeons.

They’re not wrong-

He shoulders past them and ignores the way they turn to gawp at him. Wondering why he was in the Art Department, rather than his habitual canteen table soap box, or his weed stoop in the woods where people rarely dare to tread.

More rooms crammed with easels and painters and you’re not one of them. He weaves past even more classrooms. Collects more stares. He feels them land on his back as he walks past. Burning into his DIO patch like bleach.

He’s used to stares. Always been cool with not caring what other people’s problems are with him. And it always falls into the category of instant dislike. He’s sure they have a list at this point.

His hair is too crazy curls and straggly. He’s a super senior who lives in a trailer park. Out of fashion the way he dresses, in his Judas Priest pins and his beloved band tees and his ripped denim knees. He doesn’t listen to Abba, or give a shit about Madonna. So what?

He quickly came to realise during his misspent youth and at the height of his not so brilliant rollercoaster through puberty, that it was their issue. Not his.

He cut himself plenty of slack long ago. He won’t be crammed into stifling neat little moulds, expected to fit, like so many others just fall into. His denim and leather shield against the small small world of Hawkins remained spiky.

Because he doesn’t come from that well classed upbringing of stuffy family dinners, posed holiday photos, minivans, and mom and pop curfew.

He isn’t destined to go on and smile, and be a good shiny haired little athlete boy, off to make good grades, at an Ivy-smothered, brownstone college.

It’s dangerous for the kids to conform, you know? Toxic man.

Besides he’s on a more urgent mission here, than the craggy in’s-and-out’s of squalid pissy disapproval.

Every classroom in this building comes up empty. He sighs and proverbially kicks himself in the shin for being nosy and creepy.

Let’s that feeling eat away a while at his belly as he heads to join his usual crowd. Where he belonged. On a sticky plastic table as they squabbled about shit and kept to their geek corner.

He tucked tail. Chided himself all the way back to the canteen. Smacked his hand on the doorframe coming out the department. A harsh rap to his knuckles that flared with pain.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, Munson.

Sat down with a sour face at the head of his table, picked idly at his food. A bag of half eaten chips and a probably out of date Twinkie. Not even the tater tots on Dustin’s plate break him out his funk like they usually do. He’d normally snatch a few. Not today.

Dustin seems to be eyeing him like he would try and snaffle them up. He’s watching for the sudden dart and silver-flash of his ring clad hand. It doesn’t come.

Jeff chucks him a juice box. Like he’s a fucking stray pigeon in the park they’ve all grown used to feeding.

Eddie stares at it too much, as he punches the straw in and repeats the motion. Twiddling with the chilli red plastic as he kept to himself. Fiddling. Fidgeting.

Also something he rarely did. Keep to his own crazy scarecrow head.

Stab and lift. Stab and lift.

Lost his appetite anyhow. Somewhere along the line.

He was being a moron. Presumptuous. Wouldn’t be the first time and on all his metal gods, it certainly won’t be the last.

He feels fully pathetic. One morsel scrap of attention and off he goes like some lonely pervert. Trailing after you like a rabid dog. Frothing at the mouth for the crumb of affection he thought could turn into something more.

Something hopeful that started to unfurl, blooming open in his chest. A delicate rare flower he’d never have the brains to know the full name of.

He’s just dumped a load of choking weed killer over that frail bloom. Because when should a freak’s dreams ever come true

Maybe you didn’t want to be found. Not by him. Maybe you’d come to your senses-

Maybe you realised what he truly was; not some stud athlete on path to play football for a fraternity in the big leagues and make his parents proud.

He is a scrawny loser. A jagged little freak. And as this school reminds him on a daily basis; he’s a nonconforming creep who won’t amount to so much as a piss stain in his life. And now you know that.

That snake bite of a realisation stings way, way, more than he thought it would.

 ~

 Day two. Hour 48. Eddie still finds himself looking.

Maybe he’s a sadomasochist after all. The harder the hit, the sweeter the pain. And it burns so good he can’t tear away from it.

He waits by his trusty van. Others drift off for class. Frowning at the time when they realise how ridiculously fucking early he’d picked them up this morning.

Also something else Eddie doesn’t gel with; punctuality.

Gareth shook his watch hand and lifted it to his ear to check it was still ticking. Henderson seemed to be looking at him the whole ride here, waiting for some rational sort of explanation to announce itself out the metalhead’s mouth, with his usual dramatic fanfare.

It definitely wasn’t anything to do with schoolwork. No final, or test paper could intimidate or worry him. Maybe it was a deal he was anxious to speed too.

Eddie, was your bed on fire this morning or what?

Huh?

You owe someone money or something-

Are you tripping out on me, Henderson? Seriously man. Making zero sense here, y’know.

Eddie didn’t miss the way Dustin slumped back into his seat, tugged at his science baseball cap and muttered something like “Well, that makes two of us.”

Shut the hell up, and let me so graciously drive you to school, you little shrimp.

He says it with thinning patience. But the thing is, Eddie doesn’t really get ever mad or mean with his insults. Never nasty. He doesn’t have a nasty bone in him.

The only thing that works him into being revved up, is the thought of postponing Hellfire. Heaven forfend.

When he parks up, he’s still keeping his mysterious reasons clutched close to his denim chest. He tells them to scram. Beat it.

Get lost, you losers, as he ruffles Dustin’s hair.

His bemused flock wanders away from the parking lot, and wonder how they’re gonna kill some extra time.

He leans against the side of his van, and lights up a cigarette. And there he stays. His skin itches with paranoia. Pushing needles under his veins. Bouncing back from if this is a good idea, or still just him being a creep. Back and forth.

Really he talks himself in and out of it. He jumps out of negative thoughts. Banishes them. And then dives right back in not five minutes later.

He sees Barbie arrive at school in her clunky dream car. (Not pink, shocker) On her own this time. No meathead to speak off. But she is wearing his letterman jacket. It hangs off her.

Today’s heels are sapphire blue. Lilac eyeshadow packed heavy on her lids. She stops and chit-chats to a couple of cheerleaders, all three with standard issue bouncy scrunchie ponytails, that he’s sure is a requirement to get in the squad. Linda lugs a very thin looking binder into class with her.

He hates that he’s taking notice of her footwear. Of all fucking things in this place to notice. But she’s garbed in so much neon brightness, in the full sunshine, she’s a hard one to miss.

He skims his eyes across crowds and pulls on his cigarette. One hand in his pocket. His sneaker toes tap on the loose gravel.

She sashays off to class with the cheerleaders. He’s taking note of an awfully you shaped absence at her side. The negative space unfilled where you should be. Garbed in your paint flecked jeans, with that look of cynical boredom on your face when Linda says something bitchy.

It’s preying on him all the more. The bell goes and he must tear himself away, yet again. Drudging through more classes til lunch comes rolling around, way too slowly.

It’s a nice day - buttery sunshine spliced with a cold stab of spring. Hellfire club convenes outside. They run through character sheets in readiness for Friday night’s campaign. Eddie in his usual spot as king of the heap. Sat table top. As per.

Hands folded from his elbows resting on his knees. Eyes speared across the crowds. Little frown kinking his dark brows in the middle. He looks more intense than usual.

Going this long without glimpsing even one sight of you? Something’s gotta to be up.

He really doesn’t want to look, and he’s not really. It’s quite a repulsive sight happening across the way.

Blondie and her golden haired ape are stood making out, leaning against the brick wall opposite. All wandering hands and tonguing each other’s tonsils. Swapping spit and lusty grins. Not giving a shit.

He’s waiting for his moment. For the opportunity to strike out, like a ready coiled viper.

His knee jiggles and it bounces the bench seat. He barely notices. Too preoccupied. His bracelet jingles on his wrist. Blondie breaks away and the ape goes off in another direction. She walks into the shade of the hallway.

His moment sails right on into his hands. He snatches it.

He bolts up and bounded off the table like it had gone up in flames. Eyes dead ahead. Feet stomping the table top and then down to the bench with precise heavy steps.

The guys around him were fairly used to his outbursting displays of movement. It seemed all Eddie ever did was burst out of control and be unpredictable. Scamper around with that odd sort of scurrying way he moves. Other people walked: Eddie frolicked.

“Hey, where you goin?” Wheeler asks.

“To do battle with a fire breathing dragon.” He calls over his shoulder with a wry little grin.

That typical Munson wild-boy look he gives that’s all big bourbon eyes the size of dinner plates; grin dipped in craziness. Usually the expression that proceeded a whole shit tonne of poor decisions.

As he scurried off the lot after tweedle-dumb, he did feel like he should have armed himself. A sword maybe. A heavy duty shield. Something to bat the curling tongues of flames away when they rise- and oh, they will rise.

He scampers away. Leaves his friends stunned as to what the hell he means. They all share crumpled and vacant looks behind his back as he leaves them crashing about in his rushed wake.

W-was that weird guys?

When is he ever not weird?

Fair.

Eddie rounds the corner and catches her alone. In a partially empty hallway. Lockers sit gleaming either side. Fierce metal red in the lowlight as sun slanted its angry gold across the dull lino. The grey breeze block walls that he really really hates, lining the dour hallways of this freedom crushing institute, of conformity and misery.

He catches up with Linda as she’s slamming stuff in her locker without care, and pouting, to touch up her waxy pink lipstick in a little mirror on her door. Wiping ape drool off her chin and checking her permed hair still bounced and shone. Scrunching the back of it with those pink talons she calls nails.

Claws. Eddie noted. They were definitely claws.

She pushes her locker door closed. Actually recoils back when she sees him walking towards her.

She grimaces like some flea ridden stray has bounded up to her. Covered in mange, and with matted fur. Eddie grits his teeth. Steels his resolve.

“You gotta sec, Blondie?” He asks all casual. Actually tried to keep his voice in neutral territory.

“I have a boyfriend.” She sneers out.

“Yeah. Well. He’s really not my type. You’re safe.”

“Too much product in his hair for my liking.” He adds with a sickly grin that he hopes turns her stomach.

Off the bat with his fists raised for this. Poised. Ready to block side swipes and hurl back a few of his own.

He stands there with his hands on his pockets a safe distance away. He doesn’t risk getting too close.

She’s likely to spray pepper in his face. Or screech and shout that the school freak was harassing her. Eddie keeps distance because he knows full well what people like her, think and say about him.

And if it goes sideways he’s the first one knee deep in the shit.

No matter who throws the first punch, it always sticks to Eddie. That’s where the trouble lands. Cause why fucking not- easy target. He may aswell pin a bullseye on his back. He can’t decry innocence. No one would believe him.

Her frown shifts into something fully venomous. Those baby blues of hers turn Nordic-chilly with icy rage. Gaze packed with frost. Hatred and annoyance blasted his way. What’s new.

“Why are you even talking to me, freak?” She asks. Voice unimpressed, and very much revealing her lack of patience. Scrunched her nose up she was stood near a foul smell. Like he hasn’t showered this morning, or put on deodorant.

That little word he detests stabs into him. Pin pricks on a wiry bed of exposed nerves. He clenched his teeth so as not to open his jaw and retaliate.

Oh, but its right there on the tip of his tongue. It was tempting. He swallows it down.

“Pure desperate dumbassery on my part. But I did wanna ask you something...” Eddie explains.

“Nice.” She spits out at his dig. Making a face that encouraged him to get the hell on with it.

She stands and kinks out a hip. Raps her nails in a slow rap-tap-tap on her locker door. Bag slung off her other shoulder. She looked bored of him already. Had her laser eyes set to bitch-

“I uh, noticed that your friend isn’t around. Something up with her, or what?” He asks in as casual a way as he can allow.

She frowns. “What the hell is it to you?”

 Here’s where thinking on his ever shuffling fearful feet comes in handy.

“Was supposed to drop her some stuff yesterday in the woods. She never showed.” He shrugged like it was easy. Kept his voice a tad quieter for obvious reasons, as he explained.

Somehow his cowardly little heart can’t tell her it’s because he has this huge boiling, raging crush on you.

He has a feeling she’d make a huge show of that. For both your sakes, he pads out the truth for now with a little harmless lie. Packs it around the truth like bubble wrap.

Linda looks like she buys it. Her brow quirks. He was the best route to good stuff around here. Whether she liked to admit it or not.

There were several far creepier guys out of school in town who could hook kids up with weed - for a price if girls were pretty or rip them off for way too much money and inferior stuff. Eddie was almost preferable in the vein of supply compared to those letchers.

Yeah, Munson is a total psycho. But his shits good. Strong. And he doesn’t ask you to flash your tits, or give him a handjob, like the others.

“She didn’t tell me she was buying shit from you.” She narrowed her eyes like it was his fault. Flicking her long lashes and blue doll eyes up and down him in blatant distaste.

“Honey, I sell reefer. I don’t to ask too many questions about how or why it’s used.” He charms.

“All I know is, she wanted some of my product.” He comes completely clean and hope he’s selling this lie. Big brown puppy eyes giving off what he hopes comes across as honesty.

It works.

“She usually scores Mexican stuff off the guy she works with.” She added. “Sal.”

“Who?” Eddie asks. Confused like he hadn’t just met the guy just two days ago.

“Why would she start buying off you?” She frowns. She says it like his name is worse than mud.

He feels like he’s having to sneak past Cerberus into the gates of hell. And those three heads with slobering teeth, and talons just keep coming back round to bite him in the ass.

“My stuff is primo. And plus I don’t know if you heard, but I’m easy on the eyes, and give discounts to pretty chicks.” He shoots her a playful wink. Clicks his tongue at her.

She scoffs. “Whatever, Munson.” She picks at her nails. Done with him.

“Look. I don’t have enough time to stand here through all the centuries of the Spanish Inquisition, Blondie. I just wanted to know why I lost out on making fifteen bucks yesterday. S’all. Kay? Thought you might know. You look tight. I see you guys hanging around with each other.” He offers.

Hands in his jacket pockets jerking up as he spoke. Playing the disinterested weed dealer. Like he’s nothing more to you. When really he wants to be so much more it’s an aching cavernous pit in his stomach, suspended in hope.

He twirls like he’s gonna step away. Mission failed.

“Forget it.” Shaking his head. Making his curly hair fly. Turning his DIO patch back to this and wondering what the hell he’s going to do now.

He smiles like it’s nothing, but something deep down inside is all twisted and mangled sad. Hitting rock bottom. Scraping razors down the blunt edge of his hope.

“She called in sick.”

Eddie turned back and looked over his shoulder.

Sick? What?

That little warm golden beam of hope starts to fizz in his stomach again. You weren’t avoiding him? Holy shit.

The sunny sense of giddiness comes slamming into his gut so hard he has to remember to try and breathe normally. His lungs feel too small.

It was spliced with curiosity now. He was happy as fuck, but now he knew the truth, he couldn’t put aside that you might’ve been on your own. Being sick.

With this skinny slutty drill sergeant as your lone pillar of emotional support with your mom away, now he worried about you suffering on your own, without any sort of kindness, or help.

“Said she had stomach flu, or cramps. I don’t know. I had to borrow my dad’s car to come to school.” She said like it was the biggest travesty of the 21st century for her with, you being out of action. Rolled those eyes over.

“Sick. Right.” Eddie nods. “Well, that explains it.” He grins.

And back out comes the school jester slash freak-

“Bless you for your time, your majesty. I am most obliged. I will let you go back to your embroidery, and having the peasants flogged.” He mock bows and rolls his hand as he does. Hair flipping over his neck. Chain hitting his leg as he moved.

“Creep.”

“Only the finest, sweet cheeks.” Shooting a blasting finger gun at her. Cocking his thumb as the trigger.

She gave him a look that was half venom, and all hatred.

“I have mace in my purse, Munson.” She warns. Popping a stick of juicy fruit in her mouth. Not that it would make her sour words any more bubble-gum sweeter.

“Man if I had a nickel-“ He quipped.

“Tell your friend to get well soon, alright? I gotta look after my prettiest newest customer.” He smirks like anything.

“Babe?” Comes a way too gruff voice. Mr. Blonde Ape lumbers up behind Linda and scrunches his big neanderthal forehead up at Eddie. Placing his huge mitt on her hip. Knuckles dragging along the ground.

He had a sad little George Michael earring dangling off one ear. Behind that, the ridiculous lion gold mullet, shiny with whatever celebrity endorsed product spray he caked on his perm.

The jokes floating into Eddie’s head right now are just too rich. He’s gonna burst-

“Uh oh. The cavalry?” Eddie asks. Smirking as he walks backwards, backing off. He knows its a jab. It’s a goading comment that’s meant to invite retaliation.

He’s never been very good at keeping his mouth out of wandering him recklessly into trouble.

“He bothering you?” Her boyfriend grunts. Looking like he wants to crack his beefy knuckles and slam Eddie’s curly head into the nearest wall of lockers, till his brains spilled out his ears.

“What do you want freak? Quit harassing her.”

“Wow. Sharp as a brick.” Eddie smiles in mocking as his eyes flick back to Linda. Ribbing her for being so stuck up to him, when she was going out with a guy who looked dumber than an actual box of rocks. Dry sponge for a brain.

Ironically, Eddie would trust a box of rocks more than any brain dead amoeba wearing a letterman. Bring on the box.

He points at the ape with his hand still in his pockets. “Really? IQ of 2, and it takes three for him to grunt right?” He goads.

“Fuck off.” Linda barks at him. There’s that mouth again.

Eddie remembered how you’d both cracked jokes about it. Her big mouth. Lifted his spirits a little. Facing down the dragon when entwined with memories of you? Suddenly not so scary.

“Gladly, Mi’lady.” He spins on his heel and bolts away.

He makes it back outside and it isn’t lost on the guys how freaking wide his smile is. Renewed whirling sort of energy to him again. Less antsy. More Eddie.

He stomps his feet heavily back up onto the bench and then the table top. Back to his rightful place.

On the way up he pinches the moon pie right out of Dustin’s grasp. Doesn’t even break his stride.

At least he says ‘thank you’ when he tears the food out of his young friends hand.

Henderson protests all squeaky, but then he had another one stashed in his backpack. Well learned by now. Eddie was like a scrounging feral coyote with stealing his food.

A feral coyote always chewing on a cigarette. That may well have been Eddie’s spirit animal.

They had all learnt that Eddie existed on seemingly nothing. Gas station burritos, cigarettes, and a few cold ones.

He doesn’t know where he draws the energy from to be so hyper for Hellfire. For thrashing and head-banging his crazy hair to deafening rock in his van. Rings clacking hard on his worn steering wheel as he drove and drummed along a beat. Spouted hardcore rock lyrics and made a face with that curling tongue hanging out his mouth.

Eddie chews noisily and splits his maniacal grin at Henderson as he eats. Waving off Dustin’s protests. That grumpy little frown coming forth from under his curls and hat brim.

Now Eddie needed to break even more bad news-

“By the way, you little shits are gonna have to make your own way home tonight.” Eddie says through chewing as he peers down at his Casio.

The table descends into pissy uproar. Eddie rolls those brown eyes over. Gareth throws a balled up piece of paper at his back. Eddie tosses it back, harder, with a leer. It bounces off his head.

“What are we being ditched for this time?” Wheeler asks.

A damsel in distress caught in her tower. Is what Eddie wants to say.

Eddie the brave has dared face the fire breathing dragon, and the meathead ogre. All that remains is seeing to the fair maiden in her hour of need.

“House call.” He tells them.

“Find your own wheels, folks.” Patting his pockets and calculating how much he had left over from his last couple of deals. It was a fair chunk. He liked to kid himself he was saving it for a rainy day.

He puts a cigarette between his lips. Maybe it’s to hide his grin.

He has a definite feeling he’ll be literally skipping out his last class.

~

You felt like hell.

Mind, hell was supposed to be considerably warm. Licking brimstone and red hot flames and all that. You were flipping between corpse cold clammy, and blazing hot. All the blankets pulled tight over your shoulder, and then the next minute, kicking them free.

You’d woken up two days ago with awful pains all squirming nausea in your belly, and a pounding head.

The glories of stomach flu. You spent the entire rest of the day hugging the toilet and hurling your guts out til there was nothing left to give. Retching til you were empty and your stomach cramping.

You then laid in bed shivering with fever for a whole day. Having to drag yourself down the kitchen wrapped in a blanket and fetch yourself a glass of water and something with a little sugar in.

Out of date orange sour juice was your lot. There wasn’t much else in. A few scraps of leftovers, 4 old eggs and a wilting bag of salad.

You weren’t in any kind of mood to stand and cook. You’d nibbled on a few graham crackers. Something dry. You’d kill for a ginger ale to kill the lingering nausea right now.

You rang your sister at the Diner and told her you weren’t so great. She promised to check in after her night shift with supplies. She’d be back around 6am. Mom was supposed to be back in three days’ time too. You’d be back to normalcy by then. With any luck-

You struggled with all your energy to get your miserable carcass in the shower and freshen up. Raking product through your ratty lank hair. You’d been sweating so much with it. The cool water sluicing over your skin felt so reviving.

You got out and pulled on snoopy sleep shorts and a faded Billy Idol tour tee. You’d plucked it out from the dollar store rack for three bucks. It was huge but your favourite shirt to sleep in. You vividly recall Linda going gaga over buying a pink faux leather skirt at the same time. You couldn’t be more opposites if you tried.

You twisted your hair in a towel and managed to scrape together the energy to drag your sheets and pillowcases into the basement to wash them.

By the time you schlepped your way back up the stairs with gargantuan effort, your bones rang with ache for the energy you’d expended.

You flopped back into your remade bed and shoved the small TV in your room on for some soothing noise. The tape you rented from Family Video was still in there from the other day. John Carpenters The Fog. One of your all time favourites. You could happily tune in and out you’d seen it so many times.

You watch the Poe quote about dreams, and the old sailor dangling the pocket watch to some kids around a campfire, before he claps it in his hands and says with that gravelly voice of storytelling doom, “11:55.”

You let it play in the background as you lazed there and in your freshly remade bed. Dragging a thin blanket over your legs. Settling in and feeling drowsy as a milky blue began to wash over the room.

Your small bedside lamp was on, staining your room gold. Window open and your white and pink striped curtains pulled back. They sway gentle on the meagre breeze. Spilling in scents of your garden at a dewy periwinkle sunset. The little white flowers climbing up the trellis smelled so sweet. All rolled in the flavour of cooling night air.

You finally let yourself sag down and drift in and out of sleep. Blanket tangled between your legs. When you blearily stumble out of sleeps cosy swallow again, the film is halfway through. Nick and Elizabeth trying to haul ass and get Andy to safety.

You woke hearing a slamming car door down the street. One of your neighbours coming and going. The sound drifting through your open windows and batting at your curtains. The Anderson’s’ chunky pit bull started barking it’s head off at the noise too.

You yawned and shoved the pillow under your tilted head to watch the film through hooded lids. You were damn hungry, but not hungry enough to move to rectify it. You’d survive til morning on water. Despite the way your belly gripes and growls for something more substantial than crackers.

You turn the film up and get lost in it. Laying back, until you hear a scuffle outside. Knocking up against the wall of your house.

You sit right up to listen better. Ears tuned for more. There’s definitely the telltale rustle and shake of the shrubs below your window. The scrape of something hitting the trellis.

You pause the video with a hurried click.

Some idiot was climbing up the side of your house.

You’re two seconds from bolting out to grab the baseball bat your mom kept in the upstairs closet.

But a familiar voice slithers on in. You catch onto snippets.

“Shit. Motherfucking,sonofa- betch.” Comes unsmothered curses from the underside of your window. There’s another hiss, shaking of a shrub, and a knock. A growl. A stab of a foot hooking onto wood.

That would be Eddie.

Who just fell ass first into a long neglected rose bush. Hissing and cursing at the scrape on his back.

Risking thorns, undeterred, he’s back up. Trying again on the trellis, with more success. Graze burning mean at his back where his t-shirt had ridden up.

You twist around in bed to see leathered elbows knock ungracefully into your room. Bracelet rattling around a skinny wrist. Faded sharpie phone number scrawled on his hand.

Waterfall of hair cupping that face and framing those bourbon-black eyes, and the wicked bright grin. A brown paper bag dangling from between his teeth.

When he sees you on your bed his brows raise in greeting. Muffled smile and sounds coming out his mouth. Spit soaking dark into the brown paper.

He thinks nothing of unfolding his lanky limbs into your bedroom. Shoving the window open wider and clumsily throwing himself inside. Tumbling in so his long legs kicked out. Stomach crawling onto the cushioned window seat. Zips and chains clinking from his jacket and jeans.

He dumped the bag onto the floor to free his mouth. Shiny teeth smiling blinding white right at you. This boy shines brighter than a blazing Indiana summer.

“Heard you were sick, Pencils.”

You blink and laugh cause it’s just so absurd.

You could just kiss that grin off him- sickness bug aside. You had to hold back your itching palms from reaching out for him. He was here. Come to see you.

You stand at the edge of your bed and struggle to know what to say to this sudden and bewildering sight.

Eddie Munson crashing into your room in an explosion of curse words and his on brand maniacal grin. Scaling the side of your house with his bare hands like a spider monkey. Grocery store bag clamped between his teeth.

“What the hell?” You ask him laughing. Shaking your head. Your chest bounces with it.

He stops dead in his tracks. Face falling. “Shit. This a bad time?”

The boy was really hanging there, dangling his legs out your window, asking permission to climb aboard.

You help him by pushing your curtains out his way. “God. No. No bad time. I just- wasn’t expecting a house caller at this hour.”

He finishes hauling himself fully inside.

He slipped into a deep southern Belle voice. Grinning. “Ah do declare ma-self a gentleman caller.”

“How did you know I was sick?”

“Little mean birdie with a blonde perm.” He rasps as he army crawls rest of the way inside.

“You talked to Linda?” You asked him, impressed. Your belly all buttery and mushy. Flipping over like it was trying to qualify for gymnastics Olympic gold.

“Jesus. How in the world did that go?” You asked.

“Goddamnit. That girl scary as hell.” He tells you as he hauls himself upright and snatches the paper bag off your floor. Groaning as he stood tall.

“John Houston in slutty red heels.” He describes her. Makes you chuckle. Appt description.

As he talks, he jerks an arm across his forehead to disturb the dewy sweat and the leaves caught in his shaggy mane he can feel itching at his forehead. Panting to get his breath back.

“Thank god you don’t have a three story house. Don’t think I would’a made it.” He says, winded. Smokers lungs you imagine.

You smile more just seeing the bits of leaf and broken twig he brought in. Like a stray cat. Coming in with parts of garden trailing after him.

You stand close and reach across to pluck them out. Teasing the little white petals out his fluffy strands of hair.

“Hang on now. I just have to check something…” He reaches for your hand and his warm, over-accessorised fingers seek your pulse. He darts his eyes off to the side and listens a moment.

“Yep. I definitely diagnose you, as not dead.” He laughs. You do too.

Then you wince.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get in touch. You had my number but I didn’t know how to reach you. Couldn’t see a Munson in the phone book.” You said.

He scuffs his toes against your carpet. Holding the grocery bag against his thigh looking sheepish.

“I uh, I did call your number. Couple times. Rung out. Thought maybe you were avoiding me.” He goes all twirly, and fidgets.

Eyes not meeting yours all vulnerable for a second. He instead takes in the state of his scuffed thorn scraped shoes. The moment overwhelming him.

Your heart sputters pathetically at the thought he’d been hurt and left doubting you. That’s perhaps the last thing on this earth you wanted.

You’d heard the house phone go yesterday. But you couldn’t risk taking your head out the toilet bowl to run and answer.

You put your hand on his elbow where he stands. Step closer. His eyes raise to meet yours. Peeking unsure out under that choppy fringe.

“I’d never ignore you.” You say so honestly it makes a grin burst onto his face. He couldn’t help it.

He believed you.

“Fucking stomach flu. If I knew who it was calling I would have run to it if I could. Sans vomiting down the phone to you.” You joke.

“Sexy.” He quips. Then he looks you over. Cute PJ’s. Your hair is all smushed. “How you doing now?”

You melt as he reaches across and runs his thumb slowly across your chin and your jaw. So tentative. So sweet.

“Better. Just tired I guess.” You fiddle with the hem of your Billy shirt. His eyes don’t dare drift from yours. You really don’t want him to stop touching you.

“That’s good. Good to know I won’t have to suddenly side step to avoid you puking on my feet. I’m not ready for a 360 exorcist move here.”

You laugh bitterly cause that’s not the most flattering image you wanted him to have of you.

“No projectiles. I promise.” You cross the space over your heart with a fingertip.

His hand is still stroking your jaw softly. Hair still a little damp and soaked in the fresh fake coconut scent of your shampoo. You stand there near each other and Eddie’s heart is just growing wings of its own.

 He’s smitten.

You look as cute as ever. A little drained maybe. Eyes a touch glassy, bags under them dark, splotchy neck like you’d been asleep.

“I wouldn’t get too close. I might still be contagious or something.” You warn him.

“And I look like shit right now.” You add. Putting your hand flat on the front of his jacket.

He doesn’t think you do. He unsticks a curl of hair off your cheek. You don’t even breathe too loud in fear it might spook him away.

“I’m willing to risk it. But we may wanna shelve the intensely hot making out tonight. Much as it pains me to say it. Wouldn’t want you to keel over on me, now.” He flirts.

God, that tone of his sets something in your knees quivering.

“Keel over?” You raise a brow.

“Uh-huh. I’m just that good babe.” He winks. But he gets his desired goal. Which is to see you smile and laugh at him.

He switches up the subject before you notice how much your proximity could make him blush.

“Now. Snoopy shorts. Get back into bed pronto. You’re not well.”

He snaps his fingers and points at your bed with a stern smirk. The bag rustles in his other hand.

“Bossy.” You remark as you turn and climb back into your sheets. A little wary and feeling girlish that suddenly, you’re noticing that he’s in your room.

Your room. He’s going to see your Bauhaus, Billy idol, and Bowie posters. He’s gonna see the pile of dirty washing shoved in your hamper and your messy artists desk, stuffed with pencils and paint smeared onto your sketchbooks.

Your walls that are still skated in pretty lilac paint from your childhood. Your pinned up life drawings and your lumpy arm chair with your blue bra and dirty jeans strewn on the arm of it. And you’d not shaved your legs or anything. Oh Jesus Christ. You should’ve tided up a bit.

He’s stood near your bed. He’s gonna be able to see the ratty old dog toy guarding the shelf over your desk. He’s already remarked on your snoopy shorts for heaven’s sake. You try not to let your mind go there with that last one-

He lets you settle in. Flips the blanket over your legs and smooths it over your knees. “There you go.” As he tucks you in like you are actually a patient.

Then he drops down onto his knees, on your carpet, crouching at the side of your bed.

“Now. Call me Florence fucking Nightingale, but I bought you a few things…“ He explains. Hands shuffling for his pockets. Which you suddenly notice are hugely bulkier than normal.

He fishes through his jacket pockets and all the compartments in his leathers. And those ring clad hands are bringing out goods for you.

A can of Sprite on one denim pocket. “Good for healing anything so I hear. Particularly hangovers.” He tells you with a grin.

“I won’t ask how you know that.” You simper.

“I’m such a paragon of virtue.” He insists all salacious and sugary.

A Canada Dry ginger ale is withdrawn from his other pocket. He puts them both on your nightstand. Pats the tops of both of them after he sets them down. Then he’s back to fishing in his pockets.

He brings out two twinkies, a three musketeers, and a single Reece’s cup.

“We can fight over that one later pencils.” He says with a grin.

“Patients’ bill of rights. Shouldn’t I get dibs you know- I am sick.” You stick out your bottom lip and bat your lashes at him.

“That’s playing dirty and you know it.” He shakes his head at you as he dives into more zipped pockets. His tongue tipped out between his teeth as he looks.

He produced a cereal box toy, one of those sticky gummy Alien things. Two DND dice “Huh, been looking for those.”

Along with a handful of some peanut butter crackers, and a mini bag of chips ahoy, and a DND figurine of a Hydra. Followed by a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

“Should have a tin of Campbell’s when you’re sick, you know, It’s the law. Cure for the soul.” He insists.

You smile wider.

This crazy metal head who half your school hated and swore was dangerous, here he was climbing through your window with a can of soup stuffed in his pocket, just for you.

He’s not some satanic devil freak. You’ve decided he’s actually a ray of pure fucking sunshine. A human ball of kinetic energy.

“I think that’s about it…” He says as a red sharpie, an eraser, a couple pennies, and a seven eleven receipt end up crumpled on the bed next to you. He did manage to find a fruit roll up too. He adds it to the ever growing pile.

“What’s in the bag?” You ask. Nodding to where he dumped it by your bedside table.

“Aha!” He turns and snatched it up with a huge grin and a flourish. “Flaming hot Cheetos and Funyuns.”

He brings them out and lays them on the bed, along with a marlboro packet.

“And a pack of reds, buuut, truth be told those are for me.” He smiles and stuffs them in his jacket pocket.

You wouldn’t fight him for those anyway.

You’d stolen a Newport gold out moms purse once, and smoked it in the girls bathroom at school with Linda, and that was enough. Never again.

Horrible taste of tobacco burning richly as you gagged for breath. Acrid taste on your tongue all day. You’d rubbed it away drinking way too much Pepsi.

“This is a lovely display of domesticity. Munson. Thank you.” You beam at him. Picking through the packets of candy and the crackers. And you meant it too. He noticed you do this curled little half smile when you’re being sincere.

“Gotta look after one of my top ten favourite people.” He winks.

Now he’s done unloading, he shrugs off his jacket by shimmying his shoulders, and toes off his sneakers. Your garden was dry as a bone. But he didn’t wanna be tracking too much dusty mud into your house.

He leaves his jacket and vest behind him on the bench seat. White socked feet squishing into your thick green carpet. Hellfire shirt on his skinny torso. What else?

He comes back to kneeling by your bed. Looking ridiculously cute as he hooks his hands over the edge of your mattress.

It’s pathetic how much it woos you.

“Top ten? I am touched.” You wisecrack, as he pats your knee over the covers. Before he reaches off for the can of soup. Clutched it in his hand. Twirled it up into the air.

“After Lemmy from Motörhead, but you’re definitely before Slash.” He says. After catching the tin in his other hand like he was juggling with it. His dimples come up where he smiles.

“Good. I like to know where I stand.” You nod along.

“Now. You stay there. I’ll go and heat this.” He scrambled up not at all elegantly and whirled away, loping to your bedroom door.

Oh christ. You sit up straighter. “Please try not to set fire to my kitchen.” You call after him.

“No guarantees.” Gets called cheekily up your stairs as he clatters down them. Leaping down the last few.

You can picture him bouncing around down there. Human pinball. Opening drawers, faffing with the cupboard doors trying to find your pots and pans.

No smell of smoke you can detect so that was a positive. He returns promptly and without fanfare, carrying a steaming mug in one hand, a spoon in the other.

“Couldn’t find your bowls. I improvised.” He speaks before he’s even in the room.

Treading carefully on white socked feet into your room. He crouches and hands you the piping hot mug and the spoon. You sit up and balance it on your knees. Thanking him again.

Your cheeks warm. You don’t think it’s from the soup though.

“What we watchin pencils?” He asks as he snaffles the packet of Cheetos onto his hands as he slumps down onto your carpet, and crosses his legs to sit there quite happily.

“You seen the Fog?” You ask as you start to slurp a mouthful of hot soup. Blowing on it first cause it was lava-hot.

He crunches Cheetos so loudly. speaks with his mouth full.

“Lock your doors. Bolt your windows.” He leers in a gravelly voice. Throws another Cheeto into his mouth. “Absolutely. A damn classic.”

“Wanna watch from the beginning?”

“Go for it. I got all night man.” He beams up at you. Wiggles his toes like he’s an excited little kid. You rewind it. Watch the screen slice to monochrome ribbons over the jerky picture as it does.

He seems content to stay there. On the floor. Knees up and hands clasping his kneecaps, as he plucks at the Cheetos and opens one of the peanut butter cracker packets.

You swirl your spoon into the soup. “You can come up here y’know. I mean. If, if you wanted. It’s much comfier than the floor.” You tell him.

“You missing me already?” He smiles all wide. Flashing his straight teeth. Tipping on his ass to lean right up against the bed. Beaming at you. Dimples on that mouth and wrinkles around those eyes.

“You hand delivered me soup. Doesn’t seem right you should sit on the floor.” You scoot over without jostling your dinner, and pat the space next to you.

Your bed was a spacious double. Plenty of room to be had on your blue and pink faded rosebud sheets. Couple of flowery throw pillows against the headboard. You could gladly make space for a little black leather and a splash of Hellfire on those prim sheets of yours.

“Alright, Pencils. But you gotta keep your hands to yourself. Alright?” He leers. “I know you’re at deaths door, and I’m irresistible and all…” He spreads those long guitar strumming fingers across his chest.

His rings gleam in the low gold light from your cheap yellow lamp. Limning him in gilded gold. Creeps across his cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. The curls that wave down his shoulders.

Does something particularly stunning to those deep dark eyes. Like a gold shooting star is bursting across them glittering, as he looks at you.

He’s utterly gorgeous. And it turns you inside out all over again how much you like him.

He pauses as he’s got his knees on the bed. Leaning over to ever-so-slightly invade your personal space. Because when around Eddie, not even your own personal space remained fully yours. Truth be told, you kinda liked that about him. He somehow made it the least obnoxious thing. Invading your space.

His hair hangs over his shoulders. As he stays on his knees at your feet. Grinning like a joker.

“Never fear. My hands shall remain on this mug at all times.” You promise. Cupping the warm sides of it.

He crawls past with a nod to prop himself up against the pillows next to you. Shuffling around to get comfy.

Your stomach goes all wooed and sentimental, cause that amalgamation of drugstore apple shampoo, powdery laundry detergent, cigarettes, and old leather is drifting over your bed as he clambered past on his hands and knees. His guitar pick on that ball chain necklace sways into his chest.

The scent of him and the closeness is chucking you back to memories. Living back through the yesterdays 

That sensation of being wrapped around him the record store closet. Your cheeks heat again and you take another sip of your soup to have something to blame it on.

It’s not two seconds of silence and he piped up again. Unable to leave gaps so it seems. “I like your room, by the way.”

You look at him and he’s got this smile on as he’s scanning around at your posters, and your books. Your messy clothes, your shelf unit stuffed with cassette tapes. The assorted minutia of your life crammed all around.

It’s real. It’s cool, it’s somehow intimate. Seeing this inner space all splashed in influence of you. It’s like pulling out wires and cogs from something cause you just want to see how it functions. How all the stacked things that build you, take shape.

Your little habits. Quirks, pinned and hand painted on the walls. History and childhood, all thumbtacked and hanging off picture pins. Your adolescence tucked into drawers, shelves stacked with it.

Wooden paintbrushes stuffed into an old enamel jug that the cream paint is flaking off. Your crinkly cornered art posters above the desk, ticket stubs faded on the far wall, pinned to a busy cork board. Pencil shavings scattered across your open sketchbook that he definitely peeked at when crossed the room. A deep sea blue stroke of an Indie State pennant flag.

“Thanks, it’s uh, not much but-“ You shrug. Modest.

“It looks like you.” He says softly.

“Disorganised?” You laugh.

“Cosy. Artful.” He decides. And he makes a mental note to check out your collection of cassette tapes before he leaves. You had quality taste and he wanted to unwrap more about it. Spool it out and study it.

“I see you’ve ultimately customised the bed space.” He swivels around and catches the scowling slashing red and black of a Billy Idol poster above your headboard. Shirtless and moody, Rebel Yell.

You smile as you dig your spoon into the broth. Swirling it around. You definitely felt your cheeks glow with that one.

“What can I say. I’m a fan.” You tell him openly. Twisting to meet his eyes.

Nods at your poster. “I can see that. He sure is one lucky dude.”

You frown. Confused. Lucky?

He gestures to your band tee.

“Listen I’m getting jealous. He gets to be close to your tits, and above your bed.” He winks.

You laugh. A loud laugh and you try not to snort.

“Maybe so. But you’re the one currently in my bed, Munson.“ Your tone dipping into lovely silky flirt.

You side eye a look at him and he tilts his head all quirky. Dimples in his cheeks rise again. “I guess so.”

He turns and makes a big show of twisting over and flipping the bird at the poster. I win you loser.

“I actually think he’s kinda cute-“

“He is a pretty hot dude. I’ll give you that.”

“You’re cuter though.” You tell him.

His brain stutters through the fact you paid him a compliment.

“You’re only trying to butter me up so you can steal the Reece’s cup. I see right through that facade, sweetheart.” He nudged your knee with his socked foot. Sprawled out on the bed with his hair fanned out crazy over one of your pillows.

You lock eyes. It feels like an electricity pulse. Stinging and sweet. He’d lean in and seal a kiss on your lips if he could.

“Yeah. You got me.” You play. And you’re not even playing at all.

You smile and eat more soup as the movie clicks back to the beginning. You point the remote and hit play.

When you finish your very satisfying mug dinner, you set the mug aside and curl down in your bed. Sliding under the blanket.

This move brings you closer to where Eddie is laid out. Brown eyes fixed on your small glowing tv screen. But his attention is screaming and shrieking and so tugged to you and the way you’re moving next to him.

You fold both hands up under your face and rest down on a pillow near his shoulder.

He swallows when your head sinks close to him. Flicks his eyes down and across to you. He sits with one arm folded behind his head. Legs kicked out every which way. His knee brushed into yours. You don’t shrink away. You stay put.

In fact, where you relax down, your cheek brushed against his shoulder and still you stay. Eddies smile curls a little at that.

There’s a rustle and when you look he’s shaking the Cheeto packet at you. You smile and reach in for some.

The silence is comfy somehow. The film blares on. He opens things and offers them to you. Crackers. The chips. He slurps the sprite. You hog the ginger ale. It’s nice.

You feel in on his chest when he speaks when he laughs it rolls through him in the shake of his steady bowed ribs. The way you smile makes the walls of his heart go all warm, gooey and slippy.

Eddie Munson is the type of guy to celebrate with his fists punched in the air like a roaring frat champion, when you throw a cookie that he catches in his mouth. Crunches crumbs all down his shirt front as he grins.

Your sides hurt with laughing, you nearly snort and send fiery ginger ale out your nose. How is he more amusing than the film you’re both pretending to watch? He just is.

He gossips to you about school. Of all mad things. He tells you about what happened in the canteen when Tammy. H on the cheer squad found out that Debbie C kissed her boyfriend after the basketball game. Tammy apparently dumped a carton of milk over her head. A slapping fight ensued. It was a mess.

You chuckle at the fact he doesn’t give a shit about any of the popular assholes. Except when something funny happens in the lunchroom in front of everyone. Then, it’s worth a chuckle over. They were both catty girls anyway, fighting over some boring ass jock. There was no love lost there from you guys.

He tells you he got a D on his Spanish paper which no one could understand how.

Dustin told him to stop eating his body weight in plastic wrapped jerky from the gas station. Chucked a syrupy yellow fruit cup at him and told him about a balanced diet so he wouldn’t end up getting scurvy.

“Honey, honestly I swear that kid is like the voice of my conscience. If that voice was like, an annoying little gnat yammering on, buzzing in my ear.”

“It’s sweet. He cares about you so much.” You defend.

“So sweet.” He mocks. “Little shrimp.”

But he can’t hide the clasp of affection that settles in his voice. Even in his mocking. The kid worships him. Looks up to him. You just know that puffs up some part of Eddie’s chest. This genuinely sweet and weirdo kid had found his hero in the freak. Always grinning up at the metal head with great gleaming stars in his eyes.

Eddie who was always unapologetically himself and hurled away anyone else’s distaste in him, with the contempt it deserved. Eddie who always told Dustin to be himself and like what he likes without shame.

You hit Eddie upside the head with some hardcore truth. See if it doesn’t sink in that crazy scarecrow head of his. That hard skull and his impenetrable skin, that both grew over double thick to keep out unwanted opinions. Wrapped his vulnerabilities up in razor wire and didn’t let anybody trespass on it.

He’d let you trespass though. Just a little.

“I think Henderson seriously looks up to you Eddie. You’re who he wants to be when he grows up. You’re a literal rockstar to him.”

He blows a raspberry.

“Nah man. He’s got Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington for that. He’s who kids look up too. And more importantly, he’s who their parents want them to be. Straight laced. Shiny hair. Chicks dig him. Prom King. Going to college like a good little boy and will have your daughter home by 9.” He rolls his eyes.

He doesn’t say it to get mean at you. But he’s twisted all the jagged edges around and pointed them in at himself.

You know this is coming from the well of his insecurities. And it plunged down so deep it didn’t see the light of day anymore. You peel off a few of those self deprecating cynical layers, and you hurl some honesty at him.

People aren’t usually… honest, with Eddie. Not really. They don’t get close enough. They don’t care enough. When it seems all be gets is bad press and horrible hard spitting truths. You wipe that away and decide to dare put something else there instead.

“I’ll bet you that Reece’s cup your scrawny ass is so wrong on that. Munson.”

His hair flicks out when he turns to look at you. Sat there and those inscrutable brown eyes looking all melty and puppyish.

“You think it’s scrawny?”

You bite a cracker and grin. Shoulder to shoulder with him.

You’re slumped on each other as the film progresses. Drifting on. Eddie lifts his arm up to stretch out his shoulder, purely by chance, this leaves you curled up. Practically pasted onto his ribs. Hearing the full whump-whump of his heart push through his warm Hellfire clad side.

Underneath all that stiff denim and cold leather, he’s all softness. Mush. You’d never have suspected that. You end up resting your palm flat to his stomach.

He has to blink and revel in the way that touch of yours makes his stomach fizz with squirmy awareness. He begs begs begs his dick not to react cause that would just really shallow and cheapen this moment. He doesn’t want that.

He’s eating the gummy fruit roll up. He bites down on it, maybe too hard. Because he just tested, resting his palm down across your shoulder and stroking the dry ends of your hair. The raised bone of your shoulder blade through the washed black of your shirt. You smell like coconut and so do your pillows and he wants to bury his head in that sweet tropical smell. Wants to take a chunky bite out of it.

You nuzzle into him and make this soft noise at the back of your throat that has his body transcending on through this bed.

Flipping around in giddy idiot joy. It makes him bite his lip. He has to pull himself back to the ground from bumping the ceiling with every touch that you lean for- you fucking lean in for touch of him.

You fill his belly with warm fluffy pride. Euphoria. You stud his angry rocker heart full and silly with red cupids arrows.

And you sat there tonight with rose pink cheeks and didn’t pussyfoot about. No games. Straight laced honesty. Pure and unfiltered. Something hard and punchy like a vodka shot or a stick of dynamite.

Look at him with those eyes that just beckon him to taste your lips again, so he can chase the flavour of his name coming out your mouth.

And best of all, the pièce de résistance, you certainly don’t mince your words about what you think of him-

You admire him. Laughed and joked with him. Chucked Cheetos, cookies and crackers for him to catch with his mouth and laughed so crazy, like it’s insanity and it’s catching.

You tell him his friends love him, and somehow you heal over that ragged wound in his heart, that tells him he isn’t lovable. That little rift in his body that had been there since the day mommy abandoned him, and daddy got thrown in jail again.

It stitched up that little gaping hole. He felt it soothe and heal over. Closed a bit and it felt good.

When his head tips forwards, his eyes burn when he blinks them. Cause apparently you’d both fallen asleep. Lulled by the movie and the snuggly warmth from each other’s bodies all rolled up in the blankets.

The films credits are rolling on and on. His mouth is dry with peanut cracker dust and the sourness of sleep.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out. He rubs a dry knuckle onto his eyes until his world slants and bursts into popping static. He blinks and registers where his limbs are splayed.

Would you believe they’re curled around the shape of you. He doesn’t find that hard to discover.

His arm slung over your belly. Your hips are nestled back into the cradle of his pelvis cause you’d twisted and he didn’t even feel it.

His shoulder tingles, pins scrape to the bone, your hands are curled around his arm that’s over your pillow and down by your side.

His chest was crushed to your back and he’d wondered why his dreams smelt so good- He’d been nuzzling in to chase that sweet coconut smell entwined into your hair. Some added warmth of your skin and the feel of your body making him all dozy.

“Pencils?” He whispers. His voice is shrouded and raspy. He flicks out his free arm and reads his watch. The blinking square numbers tell him it’s 2:04 in the morning.

It feels wrong and mean, peeling the blanket off the corner of his thigh that he doesn’t remember pulling over himself. The new air that rushes over him is cold.

He slips his arms out carefully so as not to disturb your sleep. You looked serene, the way you breathed deep and even, had him leaning in and tucking a hair away from your warm cheek.

He carefully scoops the used packets of food as noiselessly as he can, into the waste paper basket under your desk that’s filled with scattered pencil shavings and crumpled up paper. He leaves the pile of food he gathered stacked neatly on your bedside. Nestled around the pool of gold still being cast around by your lamp.

He shoves his shoes on. Pulls on his jacket. Tiptoes across your squishy carpet and scribbled a note on an empty page of your sketchbook with his red sharpie. The soft skate of pen on paper as he wrote.

He did sneak a glimpse at your sketches. Some of the pen and ink ones you’d do that were better than some comic books he’s read (talented, brilliantly amazing and so nuanced)

Took one very quick spurring survey of your cassettes too. Colour him curious. (Really pencils? Kool and the gang?) Reminds himself to tease the shit out of you for that later.

He pulled your blanket up to your chin. switched your light off. Threw the room into darkness save for the steady sleepy burn of orange that flowed in via the street. Slanted across your carpet. He closes the curtains for the window across from your bed. Let you get your sleep.

He can’t resist brushing a thumb across your cheek before he leaves. Nestled a tentative kiss on top of your head. Takes a lungful of you. You are better than nicotine.

“Goodnight Pencils.”

Before he climbs out your window, and probably falls face first in that fucking prickly bush again, he leaves a note slotted on your bedside table. Your nickname unmissable in scrawled red slashing letters. A squiggly funky little doodle of him in a nurses costume. And another one of him, Eddie the Brave, battling with a sword against a permed and very cross dragon in high heels and lipstick.

He signs it with his phone number. And love, and a whole row of wobbly kisses. from, Florence fucking Nightingale.

He grows all warm with the thought of you waking up tomorrow and smiling at his dumbass note. That was the best feeling. He wishes he could bottle that and get drunk on it. Sip it like a pocket flask of whiskey or gin and he’s got DT’s like an alcoholic. High on the nearness of you.

It was worth the scrape and dig of rose thorns. That damn bush below your window that he falls into - again. It’s so worth it.

~

🕷Don’t wanna brag or nothin, but the next part is just sat here🕷

#eddie munson #eddie my boy #EDDIE DESERVED BETTER #EDDIE MY BELOVED #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie baby #eddie munson imagine #stranger things season 4 x reader #eddie munson headcanons #send me anything #send me anything eddie pls #comfort #comfort character #eddie looks after sick reader #angst #angsty vibes

[kohanayaki]

.:Survive the Tide:. (Eddie Munson x Reader) Ch 1

After discovering a portal to another dimension, infiltrating an underground secret Russian facility, and fighting literal monsters to save the world not once but twice, you'd think the bulk of your problems would be behind you. Enter: Eddie Munson. You thought you were done with long haired, leather jacket wearing men after dating Billy Hargrove, but Eddie seemed different. He was sweet, he was creative, he was honestly kind of a dork, and now he's convicted of murder. Needless to say, harboring a fugitive isn't exactly how you pictured your spring break going.

LINKS:   Part 1    Part 2    Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

___________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Resurface:.

“The suspect we're currently in pursuit of is Eddie Munson. All Hawkins residents are advised to. . .”

No.

No, no, no.

The world seemed to close in around you; you felt your stare at the TV screen shift in and out of focus, the sound of your blood roaring in your ears drowning out anything else the deputy had to say. You refused to believe that Eddie could do something like this. Eddie, who drove you home when your 'friends' ditched you at a party. Eddie, who lent you his cassette collection and beamed like the sun when he found out you liked the same music. Eddie, who insisted on slowly leading a spider out of his trailer instead of crushing it despite being absolutely terrified. He couldn't have killed Chrissy. 

But the officer was there on the screen, holding up a cropped yearbook photo of him in his Hellfire Club t-shirt.

And they said the body was nearly unidentifiable.

After Starcourt you tried your damnedest to return to normalcy, and for a time you thought you had. There were some days that almost felt like your life before you knew what really lied beneath Hawkins' skin. Then there were days like this, where it felt like the weight of the world was returned to your shoulders, a crushing sense of doom pressing down on your chest. You thought this year would be peaceful. Relatively, at least. But so much had changed in so little time. . .

~Six months ago~

The school cafeteria at Hawkins High was less like the shitty buffet it was meant to be, and more like a gladiator arena. Students flocked together in protective groups, quickly sweeping the grounds and claiming their territory, but never daring to get close to the center table. No, that was reserved for the court— the cheerleaders and the basketball team. You affiliated yourself with neither, so how was it that you came to be sitting there? Simple: Chrissy Cunningham.

The two of you had known each other since kindergarten, practically growing up at each others houses. Although you drifted apart as you got older, especially as she started dating Jason and you became friends with Steve's group, you could tell that she'd been having a hard time lately. With what, you wouldn't push to know, but you could tell she was grateful to have someone by her side that she could trust, and you were happy to be that someone after you saw how the rest of the cheer team treated her.

And so, for the last week or so you'd taken up residence at the center table to make sure she wasn't getting shit from anyone. You'd expected to get at least some kind of backlash from the cheer team, but they hardly paid you any attention. That was one of the perks of being a social drifter— you weren't part of the popular group, but you weren't targeted by them either.

The basketball players, however, were a different beast.

You groaned as you spotted Jason Carver making his way down the hallway with the majority of the varsity team. People parted like the red sea for him while he smiled and waved to the other students like he was the goddamn mayor.

His eyes lit up as he spotted Chrissy, striding over and practically pushing you out of your seat as he wedged himself between you to kiss her.

“How are you, baby?”

“I'm-”

“Great! Party at my place this Saturday,” he cut her off, that smile still plastered on his face as he handed her a neon orange flier, “It's to celebrate our win earlier this week, wear something pretty for me.”

“Oh, right,” Chrissy said, managing a nervous smile.

You, on the other hand, felt like slapping him. Chrissy didn't like parties because of how anxious they made her, something she's told him multiple times. If Jason noticed her uncomfortably fidgeting with the cuffs of her jacket, he showed no sign of being concerned about it. He just gave her another unnecessarily intimate kiss for a school lunch room before walking off to grab his food. You glared at the back of his head until he reached the end of the line, turning to Chrissy.

“Remind me why you're dating that asshole again?” you said quietly. Jason never necessarily did anything bad to you; he was always just sort of in the background when you hung out with Chrissy, but you couldn't stand the way he treated people.

“Y/n,” Chrissy sighed, “I know how he can get sometimes, but Jason’s your friend too.”

“No, you’re my friend and he’s your boyfriend, so I’m legally obligated to tolerate him,” you supplied, “not the same thing. Sitting at this table doesn't make me his friend. I'm here for you, Chris.”

“I know,” she said sheepishly, “thank you. . . I'm sure you'd rather be somewhere else.”

“What, and let you suffer here alone?” you grinned, “not a chance.”

Right on queue Jason came back with his food tray, shouldering passing students out of the way as he did. Just as he was about to sit down, what looked like a blur of black few past him, knocking him off balance and sending a few items on his tray toppling over. As the blur slowed to a stop and turned around, you were met with a student that was both familiar and unfamiliar.

His hair was the first thing you noticed, dark brown tresses teased to the gods and falling in loose waves around his face. A chain hung off his belt, clanking against the studs whenever he moved. He wore a ripped denim jacket with a multitude of pins and patches of bands you recognized, and a shit-eating grin on his face. 

You felt like you knew him from somewhere.

“Sorry, man,” he said to Jason, his expression telling you that while he really hadn't meant to do it, he certainly wasn't sorry about it.  

“Watch where you're fuckin' going, freak,” Jason snarled. He slammed his tray down, making Chrissy jump as he got in his face. The other man didn't back down, his grin only spreading as Jason turned red from the neck up.

“You stay the fuck away from here, you got it, Munson?” Jason glared.

Munson. That's where you knew him. You recognized him from the Hellfire Club yearbook picture Dustin carried around in his folder. This must be Eddie, the guy the kids basically idolized. Even though Jason was threatening him, Eddie looked thoroughly unbothered. The look in his eyes almost dared Jason to hit him; you could tell they've done this same song and dance before.

“Last I checked, everyone's allowed to eat food in the place the school makes us eat food in,” Eddie said, gesturing around to the room with his arms as he turned to leave. Jason lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket.

“That's it-”

“Carver, would you take the one-sided dick measuring contest somewhere else, please?”

The whole table seemed to freeze at your words, their focus moving to you.

“What?” Jason said, his jaw taught and his grip still tight on Eddie's jacket.

“Give it a fucking rest,” you reiterated, “you're starting shit just to start it, and I'm trying to eat in peace for once.”

“He needs to learn some fucking respect-”

“It's a pudding cup, Carver. Pretty sure you'll make it through this.”

Eddie couldn't help but chuckle. Even a couple boys from the basketball team snickered at your words, though they were shut up quickly by Jason's stare snapping to them. Jason let out a harsh breath as he loosened his grip on Eddie, his cross-hairs slowly shifting to you.

Now it was the whole cafeteria whose eyes were on you two. You stared back at Jason, unyielding. Although you were the one sitting down, there was no question that you were playing on even ground. Unlike Jason, you had friends in nearly every clique at Hawkins High, so while most of the cheerleaders and basketball players were firmly on Jason's side, you knew there were plenty of others waiting for him to be put in his place.

“Maybe you should mind your damn business, (L/n),” he said, fighting to keep his voice even.

“I will when you stop treating everyone around you like shit,” you fired back, ice in your tone, “that includes your girlfriend.”

A chorus of rising murmurs spread through the space— some shocked, others anticipatory.

This sure was an arena, and the audience couldn't wait to see who slaughtered who.

Suddenly the shrill sound of the bell rang out through the cafeteria, and you almost laughed at the timing. The other students began to disperse, scattering off to their other classes. Eventually Jason was pulled away by another one of the basketball guys, and you packed up your things for your next class. Eddie saw the glimmer of victory in your eyes as you did.

He'd noticed you right away, standing out like a sore thumb in your David Bowie t-shirt and denim jacket among the sea of green and gold varsity uniforms. You confused him, but not in a bad way. You'd always stayed out of the way whenever Jason went on one of his stunts, what made you say something this time? It couldn't have been because of him, Eddie was 100% sure you didn't know he existed before today.

His pulse leaped into his throat as you turned around to meet his gaze, that gleam in your eyes not having left. You gave him a small smile before slinging your bag over your shoulder and disappearing into the wave of exiting students.

All right, so maybe you knew he existed now.

__________________________________________________

You sighed as you strode quickly down the hallway before school started next day. Although your eyes were trained on the open book in front of you, you could practically feel the eyes boring into you from all angles; and although your headphones drowned out the noise, you could tell they were whispering about you. Your stunt in the cafeteria had people talking, and honestly you found it stupid that they were making it such a big deal in the first place. Jason's never had anyone talk back to him, and for what? The fear of a little social backlash? To be fair, Freshman year you would have done anything to avoid getting on the popular crowd's bad side, but after surviving the horrors of the Upside Down, you knew at the very least you could handle Jason Carver's entitled-white-boy wrath. Near death experiences had a way of giving you a little perspective.

With a good twenty minutes before your first class started, you decided to take the time for yourself away from the prying eyes and shit-talking mouths for a little while. You stopped underneath one of the trees by the edge of the schoolyard, leaning against the trunk and relishing the shade for a moment. You slipped your backpack off and set it on the ground, about to sit down when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder. You jolted, looking to your side only to find no one there. You whipped your head around, but there was no one behind you either. That's when you saw a hand clad in silver rings come from above you and tap you on the shoulder again.

You let out a small yelp and staggered back, the movement making your headphones slide down to your shoulders. Heat rose to your cheeks as your music played outloud, and you quickly paused your walkman. A chuckle reached your ears, and you looked up to see Eddie lounging comfortably between two branches in the tree above you, his legs swinging freely beneath him.

“You trying to kill me, Munson?” you huffed, your heart pounding.

“Sorry about that, princess,” he said, that impish smile ever present on his face, “didn't mean to scare my savior, especially now that I know she listens to Ozzy. That's Secret Loser off his new album, right? Definitely didn't take you for the type.”

“Well what did you take me for?” you said, your arms crossing defensively despite the grin that tugged at your lips.

Eddie tilted his head, pretending to think about it.

“Hmm. . . somewhere at the intersection of preppy and weird art kid, so Kate Bush I guess?”

“Well I like her music too,” you said, “Shockingly, human beings can be multifaceted.”

“Well don't blame me for being surprised when most of the people here have about as much depth as a blow up pool,” Eddie jabbed.

“You include yourself in that?” you quirked a brow.

“Duh, look how I'm dressed.”

He was joking, but he wasn't totally wrong. He was wearing his Hellfire club t-shirt, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms and exposing the tattoos you didn't realize he had. His hands were covered in thick silver rings, matching the chains hanging from his belt and his wrists. His black jeans were torn at the knees, and hanging off the branch next to where he sat was his denim vest and leather jacket with a picture of Dio's latest album cover printed across the back. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the fact that he genuinely didn't seem to care what other people thought of him, but you'd never realized how attractive he actually was.

“Could have just taken a picture for you,” Eddie said, snapping you out of your train of thought. You flushed as you realized how long you must have been blatantly staring at him. “Didn't know you were gonna size me up.”

“Just doing what you asked me to,” you said, sounding a lot more confident than you felt; a tactic that worked, if the blooming color in his cheeks was anything to go by.

“Every person has layers,” you finished your point, trying to get your heart rate under control.

“Not Jason Carver.”

“I said every person.”

Eddie laughed at that, the sound so warm and resonant you could almost feel it in your own chest. So much for your heart rate.

“Speaking of, never got to thank you for yesterday,” he said.

“Well, it was more about my not liking Carver than my concern and care for you, but I'll let you believe that,” you said playfully.

“Cold,” Eddie chuckled, swinging his legs over the branch and dropping to the ground, “Still, it takes guts standing up to the new king of Hawkins High,”

“With Jason it's more of a dictatorship, but thanks.”

“Well said,” he grinned, “starting an uprising against the dickish forces of the basketball team. Never would’ve seen it coming from (Y/n) (L/n), right hand of Steve Harrington.”

“First of all, never call me Steve's right hand again,” you scoffed.

Eddie was unable to hold back the string of surprised laughter that escaped his lips, not expecting the innuendo from you.

“And second, I only started hanging out with him after he stopped being an ass,” you finished.

“Right, got it,” Eddie said, tapping the side of his head, “. . . was I absent that day?”

You shot him a sharp look and he smiled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“He's sweet,” you defended your friend.

“In all my time at this school I've never heard the words 'Steve Harrington' and 'sweet' in the same sentence,” he said, “and I've been here for-”

“Ten years, I know.”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie deadpanned.

You laughed, your smile seemingly lighting you up from the inside, and Eddie found himself smiling along with you. He surprised himself with how natural your back and forth felt to him. You were usually hanging around Steve and Nancy or Billy, and more recently Robin— people whose social circles didn't really overlap with his own unless they were really trashed at a party. Of course he knew who you were, it was impossible not to know everyone in a small school like this, but this was the first time you'd ever had a real conversation; one that Eddie was enjoying more than he'd like to admit.

“Y'know, that's not the first time you've stood up for me,” he said after a short while.

“It's not?” you asked, raising a brow.

Eddie drew in a long breath, crossing his arms and shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“Ouch,” he smirked, “Think back, (L/n). Dive into that memory palace. Back to about 6th grade, middle school talent show. You sang a Journey song, and I. . .”

“Played guitar, holy shit!” you laughed, the moment now vividly pictured in your head.

Eddie beamed, his index finger ringing an imaginary bell above his head and his smile impossibly infectious.

“Ding ding ding! Well, you seem to remember my performance on a generally positive note, so I'll overlook you forgetting.”

“Can you blame me? You were bald back then.”

“Buzzed, thank you very much.”

“Bald in comparison,” you snorted, reaching up to push a few of the unruly strands out of his face. He swatted your hand away playfully, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

“But you do remember?” he covered quickly, “Jimmy Hathaway made fun of me after the show-”

“And I tripped him into the wet pavement outside,” you finished, heat rising to your face again as you recalled your temper as a child, even shorter than it was now.

“Exactly. You know, I bet the imprint from his fall is still on that sidewalk to this day,” Eddie mused, “a great tribute to your heroic deed.”

“Jimmy's parents sure didn't see it that way,” you said with that sly glimmer back in your eyes that made Eddie unable to look away, “something about me being in correspondence with the devil.”

“There any truth to that?”

“I don't know, haven't seen him in a while.”

Eddie laughed breathlessly, staring at you with something akin to amazement in his eyes and wondering why he hadn't ambushed you from a tree sooner.

“Too far?” you coughed out awkwardly.

“You kidding?” Eddie blinked as he came back to reality, “You're talking to the school freak here. To the general student body, no one's more 'in correspondence with the devil' than me.”

“What, because you're the grand warlock of your club or something?”

“Dungeon Master, actually,” Eddie corrected with a flourish.

“Kinky.”

You grinned as Eddie's face flushed immediately.

“That's not what it-”

“I know,” you chuckled, “I just wanted to mess with you.”

Eddie huffed indignantly, but did little to fight the upward quirk of his lips.

“So you actually know about D&D?”

“I practically babysat the boys when we were younger,” you told him, “I was there when they were still designing their characters and figuring out what campaign even was. Besides, who do you think picks them up from Hellfire? I'm not gonna trust any of those twerps with a car.”

“You're something else, (L/n),” he said.

“So you thought I'd be boring?” you joked.

“Nah, just thought you'd be meaner,” Eddie admitted with a smile, “especially after watching you rip Carver a new one.”

“Mean in a pretentious kind of way?”

“Mean in a pretty, popular girl kind of way.”

“I'm not that popular,” you said, avoiding the fact that he basically just called you pretty like the plague for your own sake, “I've only been sitting with those jerks because I'm friends with Chrissy.”

“Yeah, but people actually like you,” he said, meandering around the trunk of the tree, “That's gotta score you more points than sitting at some stupid table. You're at the top of the leaderboard compared to me.”

“You don't seem to care about it that much,” you said.

“Neither do you,” he pointed out.

“Fair enough.”

You turned to look him in the eyes and Eddie could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. It's not like he's never noticed how beautiful you were— it was blatantly obvious to anyone that saw you— but he considered you so far out of his league that he never even entertained the thought for more than a second. Honestly, he was shocked that you even gave him the time of day. You, who were friends with people like Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and Chrissy Cunningham. Not people like the freak of Hawkins High who blasted Metallica from his beat-up van and ran a D&D club.

Your eyes were what kept him held fast. They almost seemed to glow; full of life and intelligence and mischief. He wondered how in the hell you were able to be so bright after last year. He'd heard you'd been inside Starcourt Mall when the explosions went off, and he knew although you and Billy Hargrove had a falling out the semester before he died, you cared for him in some way. But somehow that light inside you still seemed intact, always ready with a quick comeback or a witty  joke, and he had no idea how you did it.

Eddie realized that the whole time his brain had been scrambling, you'd still just been looking at him. When he came back down to earth you seemed to notice, a small chuckle rising in your chest. Your gaze held his so gently, and there was something about the contact that made him feel oddly at ease. As he racked his brain for what it was, he realized that you didn't look at him like everyone else did: like you were trying to figure him out. You were just taking him as he was.

You shifted your weight slightly, your teeth catching your bottom lip out of nervous habit, a movement Eddie used every ounce of his willpower not to look down at. Then, just as you opened your mouth to say something, the morning bell rang, the sound considerably less welcome than it was yesterday in the cafeteria.

You wanted to slam your head into the trunk of the tree. Of course.

“Well this was-”

“I should probably-”

You both laughed softly as your words overlapped.

“I'll, uh. . . see you around,” Eddie said, grabbing his jacket from the tree.

You smiled, slinging your bag over your shoulder and picking up your abandoned book.

“Is that a promise?” you teased.

“Swear it on my grandmother's grave,” Eddie said, raising his left hand with his right over his heart, “She's still alive, but you get the point. Planning ahead.”

You laughed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, a sound Eddie was determined to be the cause of again.

“I'll hold you to that, Dungeon Master.”

Read Chapter 2 Here !

Taglist: open

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things reader insert #stranger things season 4 x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x you #reader insert #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things 4 x reader #multi chapter #robin buckley #dustin stranger things #stranger things season 4 #jealousy #eddie munson fanfiction

[darklcy]

𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬.

»»———-———-««

‣ eddie munson x f!reader ⏃ stranger things masterlist | 1.9k words | slight angst, fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of blood, swear words, and drug use

‣ requested by @ninasixthgun : [ An eddie x f!reader after becoming back from the upside down. I was thinking about Eddie meet reader, who is a healer. She will help him to recover back his mental health and remove any bad energy in him (like Will, but from the bats). She will teach him meditation and herbs, which at first is not easy for him. But then they grow a cool friendship to the point that may have a crush one her because of how much she helped and how free spirit she is. But she doesn't want to read his intentions because she might think that they are not compatible. Maybe he can change her mind by demonstrating that he is a new man. He is no longer a disaster and has gathered his life. ]

‣ A/N: thank you so much for requesting! i had fun writing this, and hopefully you'll enjoy reading it! i'm getting into spirituality myself, so i'm not quite an expert, but i wrote to the best of my ability! fun fact, "china's rain" is a play on words of an incense i got last week :)

All he could do was stare at the clone in the mirror, his shirt soppy and burned with the ink of his torn skin. A skull bandana strewn across his forehead in mocking courage, it was laughable that he thought to put it on. He was a coward, a weak man who dashed from anything that posed a threat. This he believed wholeheartedly. 

He should be dead. Should be. The teeth of the damned creatures embedded deep scars into his being, it was as if he was still there, defenseless in the Upside Down while those, things, nipped at him. It was pure, dumb luck he was still alive. He should be grateful, but again, ‘should’ is a strong feeling here.

Hawkins was done for. Vecna made sure of it, with his claws stretching across town, swallowing houses entirely and sucking them into his trap. Families were separated, innocent lives taken, communities destroyed. Eddie was one of many victims, he was by no means a special case. So why it hurt him so bad, he couldn’t find the answer.

One fortunate conclusion from this was his name had been cleared from the press. A demonic murderer deemed innocent, the freak is just a weird guy. The destruction shifted the focus from him to the end of the world. Nothing from last week mattered anymore. 

His back never ceased to feel the stares, though. As he exited the hospital doors, it was as if the town of Hawkins hushed their murmurs to watch. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, Eddie dispersed the crowd with a limp, bandages from hip to collarbone concealed beneath his shirt. With no trailer to return to anymore, the high school gymnasium was his new home. Wayne escorted him there with tears in his eyes, still believing Eddie’s reappearance was too good to be true. Other survivors resided in the gym on beds with scattered belongings and lost hope. Eddie and his uncle were now to join them. It was interesting to find familiar faces amongst the broken crowd. 

An annoying cheerleader from his English class, now broken in sobs in the arms of her grandparents. A basketball player who supported Jason Carver, now pale in the face. And right in the back near the donations stand stood proud Steve Harrington, though the more Eddie stared, the less proud and put together he appeared. As Eddie and Wayne rested themselves on the shitty cot that dared call itself a bed, his eyes fell over to another face he recognized.

“Hey Ed.”

The nickname threw him off. A casual term reserved for friendship, but he couldn’t recall ever having that. Why the sudden greeting, he was unsure. Who’d dare poke the bear who was a supposed killer just a few days ago?

..In the sea of red, you approached him.

“...”

He barely gave you a glance, a stiff nod and a flicker of his fingers as a wave.

It wasn’t surprising. He looked like Hell, probably just went through it, too. With hands in your pockets, you gave a quick glance to your surroundings before asking your next question.

“...You have a light?”

You smiled when he made eye contact.

—

He noticeably loosened up once you two were outside, away from all the noise. Your backs leaned up against the brick wall with a cigarette dangling in both mouths, a Marlboro Spearmint in your pocket. 

…

It was quiet. Eddie almost looked too frightened to talk. You turned towards him as you dragged a hit, butt of the cigarette flaring up with your breath. The question left your mouth with the smoke. 

“...How are you holding up?”

You watched Eddie exhale a cloud into the space in front of him. No response.

“I never believed what they said. That you were a bad person.”

It was the truth. Maybe it was useless speaking this to him now, or maybe it didn’t mean anything.

“..It’d be kinda cool if you were a real satanist, though. I’m kind of interested in it.”

You hoped to stir some reaction from him with that last statement, but nothing. 

..

…Eddie finally scoffed. 

“..Seriously?”

You coughed with laughter. “I don’t know. It’s interesting to go down the path everyone else is too scared to go down.”

Eddie stared as that sentence left your lips, waiting for the trick to happen and for the facade to drop. But it never came.

 You sat out there with him until sundown, when the rest of the volunteers were dismissed, and the moon welcomed the sky. He opened up more and more as time progressed, the walls tumbling down the more you two laughed about the end of the world. 

Perhaps Eddie didn’t remember, but you two did know each other before all this. You shared science with him. He sat two rows over from you. He was sleeping on his blank test sheet just a week ago. The hysteria surrounding Chrissy Cunningham’s death didn’t awaken some newfound urge to talk to him, you’ve actually been watching him for a while. His demeanor pulled you towards him, in a weird calling sort of way. Maybe it was fate that you two shared a Marlboro this day.

It became routine to borrow his light and lean against the brick wall for support. Eddie found himself looking forward to it, this strange recurrence that has now come to be. You looked forward to it as well.

“I actually brought something for you.”

“Is it Reds?”

Your rummaging through the backpack paused. He shrugged.

“..Cuz I’m getting a little tired of Spearmint.”

He sounded ashamed to admit it. You sighed. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not cigarettes but it’s something I think that’ll do you some good.”

Eddie scrunched his eyebrows together, confused at the skinny pieces of wood you held so carefully. 

“It’s just incense, but I think maybe. I don’t know. You could burn some sometime.”

You offered him a stick, and it felt sweet, innocent even. Like he was back at recess  in elementary school, pretending sticks were a signal of wealth in a child’s game. 

“Smell it.”

Eddie raised a brow while lifting it up to his nose. 

“Oh shit. That’s nice.”

You beamed. “It is, right? It’s called ‘China’s Rain.’”

He gave it another sniff. “You said you burn it? Is it like a candle or something?”

You tilt your head in emphasis. “Eh, kind of. It’s more like smoke, but I like to burn them to cleanse my room. If I ever feel negative or anything.”

You put a couple more sticks of incense in his palm. “I feel like you could use them because they help with healing. And since you’ve been dealing with some stuff the incense can help cleanse that energy.”

Eddie stared at the incense in his hand, then up to you. Then back down. Then up.

“Why’re you doing this?”

He watched you avert your glance from his, before meeting them again. 

“Honestly…I just like helping people. I’ve always felt like I’m supposed to give love instead of receive it. I don’t know why, that’s just how it’s been for me.”

Eddie frowned. “Isn’t that like, a sad way to live?”

You shook your head. “Not really. I’m sure I’ll find it someday, just not right now, yknow.”

It baffled him. Your whole presence and way of living bewildered him. Maybe that’s why he’s come to enjoy your smoke sessions so much. He looked at the incense sticks again.

“Well, thanks for the..” He gestured to the incense, to which you smiled. 

“..I really appreciate it.”

—

“I’m gonna be honest. I hate this.”

“It’s only been five minutes!”

“I can’t sit still like this, I feel antsy.”

“Pleaase.”

Eddie groaned through closed eyelids. You beckoned him to join you in a deep inhale and exhale. Inhale, hold, exhale. Inhale, hold, exhale. Inhale-

“I’m so serious, what’s the point of this.”

You collapsed into the palms of your hands. “Oh my god.”

Eddie sputtered and laughed, his legs coming out of criss cross to stretch in front of him.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand your whimsical ways.”

“Please don’t call me whimsical.”

You felt a knock on your ducked head. “It’s true though.”

The wind carried through the scattered leaves of the forest, the trees coming alive as if to agree with his statement. 

“Anyways. I don’t think this one��s cut out for me. I liked your sticks better.”

You finally sat back up to catch his eye. And his stupid, stupid grin.

“Meditation isn’t rocket science, Ed. You literally just sit there and breathe.”

“Well, I can’t sit still to save my life.”

He was proving his own point by the slight bounce of his ankle and his fingers pulling up grass. You poked his calf.

“You should try it again sometime. It’s calming. Helps clear your mind.”

“How often do you do all this? Everyday?”

You shrug. “More or less.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Damn girl.”

“It’s all about consistency. It’s hard at first, but once you make it a routinely thing, it’s easy.”

Well, that part’s true. Eddie knew all about consistency, considering he forced himself on a daily basis to learn a plethora of riffs from his favorite artists. At least, he used to.

“Agh okay. I’ll try it. Later though.”

He was quick to comment when you elevated, hopeful expression deflating with a smack to his shoe.

Though hours later, when the usual time for sleep kept him awake, Eddie sat up in his cot. Readjusting, he crossed his legs underneath him, his palms resting on the tops of his knees. With a deep inhale, Eddie closed his eyes. And breathed.

–

The next day, Eddie found you feeling lighter. The previous weight of nightmares and anxiety had lifted slightly, and the morning sun shone just a bit brighter. Your whimsical ways had worked. 

“Hey. I got you something.”

Eddie eyed you suspiciously. What were you going to pull out of your sleeve now..

You handed him a box with a breathy laugh. A pack of Marlboro Reds.

“Since you’re so tired of Spearmint. You ass.”

A cigarette pack. A box of Marlboro Reds.

His chest ached from his agonizing pulse, his heart speeding up and thrusting at his ribcage with full power. All of a sudden he could breathe and not feel pain. The cogs in his veins began to turn again, pumping blood and life into his body. He found himself smiling at you as he dug out his lighter. Eddie watched you place the cigarette between your lips, meeting the flame with hooded lids, and he could feel himself laughing at the way you scrunched up your nose.

“Oh god. I haven’t smoked Reds in a long time.”

His cheeks were hurting. Was he grinning this whole time? 

Weird how this was his life now. Was he allowed to feel this good around you? Was he allowed to move on and be happy?

The brick wall carried you down to your knees, cigarette dangling loosely in your grasp. Eddie joined you at your left, his shoulder grazing up against yours. He decided then that it was okay. He’ll let you continue to save him. 

“You look relaxed today.”

He felt it, too.

“Yeah. I might’ve..tried to breathe last night.”

You smacked his shoulder, a wide grin on your face. “For real?”

Eddie cackled and caressed his shoulder. “Yess. Why’d you hit me, that hurt.”

“That makes me happy Edward. Real happy.”

This time he pushed you back, shaking his head as you lost your balance for a moment.

“No but seriously. I’m happy to hear that.”

You shyly dragged on your cigarette again, ignoring the way your mouth couldn’t contain its content. Eddie’s peripheral caught on, his own grin mimicking yours. A shared, mutual moment of bashful silence, and a pack of Marlboro Reds abandoned on the gravel. 

He was going to be okay.

--

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #x reader #x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things netflix #stranger things netflix x reader #stranger things season 4 x reader #stranger things fluff

[strangerobsession]

Two Hours to Paradise

Alright, I caved. I made an Eddie blog. I'm several months too late, but we're all still not over him so honestly there is no being late. I made an OC and she's literally on my mind all the time so here you go you get all my fics

This a repost from my Ao3

April Jenkins OC Bio

Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, sexual implications

Word Count: 2,226

Summery: Eddie Munson is a third-time high school senior. He spends his time performing with his band and playing Dungeons and Dragons. April Jenkins is a first-time college freshman. She spends her time acting in school musicals and singing classical arias. The two have been dating for three years, but since April went off to college, they've discovered that long distance isn't always easy. Luckily, Eddie is working to perfect the art of spontaneously visiting his girlfriend.

“You’re leaving town?” Dustin blinked, staring in shock.

“That is what I said, Henderson. Next Friday.” Eddie confirmed, leaning back in the plastic chair at the lunch table. “Just for the weekend, I’ll be back Monday morning.”

“Where’re you going?” Mike asked.

“Indianapolis,” Eddie replied, a small smile playing across his face. “I’m going to see my girlfriend.”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike sputtered words of confusion as the elder members of the club chuckled knowingly. “What’s the occasion?” Jeff asked.

“What, I need a reason to go see the girl of my dreams?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Though if you must know, she has a recital and I want to surprise her.”

“A recital?” Lucas repeated.

“I think you’re overlooking the most important part; a girlfriend? ” Dustin interjected, dumbstruck.

“Is this really so surprising?” Eddie asked, eyebrows raised.

“Considering you talk to exactly zero women other than teachers on a daily basis, yes.”

“Her name’s April.” Gareth cut in before Eddie could raise his voice. “She was in Hellfire until she graduated last year. Great player, really fun.”

“She was also one of the theater kids,” Jeff added. “Eddie dragged us to every damn show she was in.”

“Uh, yeah, because she’s amazingly talented and we were lucky to even be in her presence.” Eddie grinned just at the thought. “She’s going to Butler University in Indianapolis for music theater. I’ve been down a few times and she’s always got some new song or whatever that she’s working on.”

“Not that I’d think you were lying,” Mike began “but somehow the fact that she’s a theater kid makes the fact that you’re dating her even more believable.”

“What’re you saying, Wheeler?” Eddie demanded playfully, throwing a pretzel stick at his forehead.

“Have you not met yourself? Calling you eccentric would be an understatement.” Dustin pointed out.

“So it would be,” Eddie agreed, rotating one of his rings around his finger thoughtfully. “So it would be.”

. . .

April Jenkins was scared out of her mind. 

Performing had never been an issue for her. She loved being on stage, in the spotlight. She felt a thousand times safer playing a part in front of a crowd of people than being in the crowd of people. The audience was never the issue.

It was the three professors sitting behind the plastic foldable table, pencils posed menacingly above their paper that was the issue.

Calling it a recital doesn’t make it any less of a test. April thought bitterly as she and her student pianist took their places on stage. Opening the doors and letting people watch doesn’t distract us from the fact that you’re grading our every move.

“Hello, my name is April Jenkins- soloist.” She slated with a cheerful wave to the professors.

“And I’m Rhonda Mcintyre- accompanist.” The student pianist slated as well, a tight, professional smile pasted across her lips.

“Today I will be performing “Art is Calling for me”, from The Enchantress .” April finished.

She waited as the professors scribbled their names and song, then took a deep breath as one of them gave her the nod to go ahead.

April and Rhonda had practiced it a thousand times: April burrowed herself deep into her character, and thrust an arm out dramatically to signal Rhonda to begin playing. The song was light, bouncy, and had a playful air to it. Despite being filled with impressive trills and high notes, it wasn't something to be taken seriously: April had practiced her cheerful, carefree smile in the mirror while singing, and played up her body movements and gestures.

To her great delight, the professors did seem to be enjoying her performance. Though She’d promised herself she wouldn’t look at them, the few times she’s snuck a peek, they were smiling to themselves as they watched her.

As she sang her final note, April did a little squeal and jumped to push one last bit of character in before she took her bow. The professors clapped politely. The audience behind them clapped more than politely.

“Well that was just lovely, April.” One of them said, setting his pencil down after jotting down a final note. “Perfect choice, you clearly know your strengths and how to play to them.”

Critiques only took a few minutes, and April could barely contain her excitement when the professors nit picked her tone and breathing. Over several years of performing and singing, April had learned that when a teacher starts being overly picky with the details of your performance, that meant that it was good enough that there were no glaring problems to address. They could get away with pointing out the itty-bitty details that frankly, no one really cared about.

She took her praise with grace, thanking them as she and Rhonda exited the stage and gave encouraging smiles to the next pair of students.

Once safely out the side door of the auditorium, Rhonda took April’s hands and laughed. “They had nothing! They were bullshitting their way through notes because they had nothing to say! That was fantastic!”

Her infectious laughter caused April’s own to bubble up. She hugged her friend, jumping up and down ecstatically. “I mean to be fair they were totally right about my breathing I do tend to tense my shoulders when I inhale-”

“Okay, and who cares?” Rhonda threw her hands into the air. “The difference is barely noticeable, and you know it.”

“It’s still something to work on,” April muttered bashfully.

“Do whatever you want, little miss prima donna.” Rhonda squeezed her cheeks tightly, cooing at her. “In the meantime, I have to get back in there. Wendy’s still sick, so I have to play for her soloist.”

“You know the music well enough?”

“Of course I do, I’m practically a professional.” Rhonda hugged her one last time. “I’ll see you back at the dorms.”

“See you!” April pulled away, walking backwards and waving.

“Remember: you’re amazing!” Rhonda called as she slipped back into the building.

April chuckled, chest swelling with pride. It was people like Rhonda who made it easy for her to believe that she really was amazing. Made her feel like she’d actually done something to be proud of.

Eddie was the same way- had been all throughout high school- but he couldn’t see every performance anymore. He couldn’t make the two-hour drive every other week to see her sing in class, or even to the special recitals and tests like today. 

She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that though they both wanted it- they couldn’t see each other for every little thing. Every Tuesday night April’s heart ached knowing that Eddie would be playing his little metal heart out with his band at the Hideout, and she couldn’t see it. She knew he felt the same way about her performances, after all, he encouraged her to call him after every single one to tell him all about it.

April checked her wrist watch as she walked around the auditorium to the front entrance. It was 2:38, so Eddie was probably home by now. He’d probably answer if she called him when she got back to her dorm.

Not paying attention, April found her feet pulling her in the direction of Rhonda’s car. Her roommate had driven them, and since she was still playing for the tests, April would have to walk back to the residence hall. She groaned. It would take her less than ten minutes, but she loathed the idea of walking any distance in her stupid black heels. She hadn't thought to bring an extra pair of shoes when Rhonda had told her she would likely have to substitute for Wendy Daniel, who’d been nursing nearly a week-long fever.

Cursing her lack of foresight, April quickly weighed the odds; figuring if she wanted to call Eddie sooner rather than later, she may as well suck it up and head back to the dorms. She had no idea when Rhonda was supposed to play, anyway, so it’d be silly to sit and wait for however long.

As April started down the sidewalk, her eyes caught sight of a very familiar van in the parking lot. Her heart skipped and stuttered as she stopped and stared. There’s no way, she thought someone probably just had the same van.

Still, she couldn’t quite stop herself from drifting closer to get a better look. Completely ignoring the fact that peering into a total stranger’s car was downright stalker-ish, April leaned in and quickly scanned the van’s interior.

Whoever it did belong to seemed to be just as disorganized as Eddie. She could see trash littering the floor, and a messy stack of cassettes on the passenger’s seat. Upon even closer inspection, she saw just about every metal band that she could name, and even a few she couldn’t, in the stack.

“There’s no way,” She murmured, tempering her hopes.

“No way of what, sweetheart?”

April whirled around, seeing Eddie standing not four feet from her and the van. He grinned brightly at her slack jawed face, quickly claiming the space in between them.

With a laugh, April jumped at Eddie, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He caught her, supporting her weight and using her momentum to swing her around in his arms. When her feet touched the ground again, she held his face in both hands, scanning him over as if to make sure he was real.

“What are you doing here?” She asked breathlessly between laughter.

“Seeing you, of course.” Eddie took one of her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He continued onwards, trailing his lips from her wrist, to her elbow, all the way up to her shoulder. “This is your first big college recital, I had to come see it.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” April pulled him back to her, burying her face in his neck. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I’m sorry, baby. I wanted to surprise you.” He explained, trailing his fingers through her raven hair. “I also didn’t want you to worry about anything other than your performance.”

“You think you could distract me from the most important thing I’ve ever done this year?” She looked up to squint at him.

“Um. I’m very distracting, as we all know.” Eddie booped her nose, delighting in how it scrunched in protest. “Remember how you’d somehow find me in the audience during every high school show you were in? Every time you were facing out you’d look right at me!”

“And I was never distracted by that.” April insisted. “I just liked knowing you were there, I never missed any lines or cues.”

“That’s because you’re God’s gift to the theater.” He replied seriously. “You’re a goddamn prodigy.” He gasped suddenly, clapping his hands together once. “I haven’t even told you how good you did! You were so bouncy and adorable, and then you hit the crazy high notes and holy shit- ”

“Ed,” April interrupted his rambling, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Because we’re talking.” He smirked, sliding an arm around her waist. “It’d be very rude to just swoop in and kiss you mid sentence-”

April captured his lips with a roll of her eyes. He melted into her, his hand gliding up her back and into her hair. He kissed her with the intensity of a man dying of thirst that only she could quench. 

“I think that was more than enough small talk,” She said in between kisses. “Right?”

“Definitely,” Eddie agreed.

April giggled with delight as he backed her into the side of his van, his fingers digging into her hips as hers tugged at his hair. “I’m really glad you’re here, Ed.” She whispered.

“Me too,” He said into her skin. “ God I missed you so much. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, the guys were giving me a hard time about it.”

“My poor baby,” April gently wrapped a piece of his hair around her finger. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either. I told my roommate just about every damn thing you were up to whenever I got off the phone with you. I think I’m slowly driving her crazy.”

“Maybe we should get you out of her hair for a while, then.” Eddie suggested, quietly. His eyes glinted mischievously. “I booked a cheap motel a few miles from campus. Figured I could stay for the weekend, go home Sunday afternoon.”

“ Eddie ,” April drawled, tugging him closer so they were practically pressed flush against each other. “Are you proposing that we stay in the same private room, alone , all weekend?”

“Just you and me, baby.” He agreed, lowering his head and smirking into her neck. She giggled as she felt his teeth gently nipping at her skin. “You can show me around Indianapolis. Or, you know. We could not do that. We could just stay in bed.”

“I haven’t actually seen much of the city,” April admitted. “I’ve been mostly staying on campus.”

“Sooooo…. Plan B then?”

“I like the way you think, Munson.” She kissed him again. “Let’s swing by the dorms first so I can pick up some clothes and leave a note for Rhonda.”

Eddie pulled his keys from his pocket, swinging them around on his finger. “Your wish is my command, my love.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season 4 x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x fem oc #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

[helfireclub]

Dancing with the Devil {Eddie Munson x FEM OC ! } Chapter 9

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 (18+) | Chapter 11 

Chapter: A date with Eddie Munson ! 

General POV

Lilly sat on the passenger seat.

Eddie started the van and had his hand on the back of Lilly's seat.

When they drove out of the school parking lot, Lilly opened the window on her side.

'God how is this van so hot.' Lilly asked.

But she exactly the answer Eddie was about to give.

So she mouthed it with him.

'I know I'm hot, but if you say it like that.' Eddie said a grin on his face as he let his hand slide towards Lilly.

'Could you open the dashboard drawer, it has my cigarettes.' Eddie said as she fished the lighter out of his pocket.

'I thought you were taking me on a date, I'm not a maid Munson.' Lilly said with a small grin looking at him with a side eye.

Lilly took out a pack of Lucky strike out of his dashboard drawer.

She grabbed Eddie's lighter and put one if her mouth wanted to light it but her long ass hair was in the way.

Lilly was cursing under her breath and with her hand she threw her hair over her head to one side.

She then put her hand in front of the cigarette while lighting it.

Lilly inhaled the first hit and while she was pulling out a cigarette for herself out of the pack she scooted over to Eddie.

'Take it.' She said the cigarette on her lips.

Concentrating herself on lighting one for herself.

Eddie bit his lip but gratefully took the cigarette putting his foot further down the pedal of his van.

They were driving the opposite direction of the other cars.

'Where are you kidnapping me Munson?' Lilly asked him while putting her foot on the dashboard enjoying the late evening breeze on her face through the window.

'Kidnapping.' Eddie repeated while taking a hit from his cigarette.

'That's for me to know.' Eddie said while driving off towards the woods.

Normally the woods in a place she wasn't living that long should be freaking her the fuck out.

But for some reason she felt fine.

'First I'm going to tell you I'm working with points on this date.' Lilly said while turning towards him from the window.

'Points?' Eddie said looking at the road.

'Yeah and your on negative one right now.' Lilly added while throwing the last of her cigarette out of the window.

'A negative one? How so?' Eddie said slightly offended.

'Well you had a plus one, for helping me in the van like a real gentleman.' Lilly admitted.

'How did I lose 2 points in like 5 mintues?' Eddie said even more offended and confused.

'What do you hear?' Lilly said crossing her arms.

'Nothing my car?' Eddie said looking away from the road in her eyes.

To which Lilly raised an eyebrow.

'Exactly.' She answered.

It took a few seconds to click with Eddie but his eyes turned big suddenly.

'Oh my fucking god, I'm a worthless piece of shit princess.' He apologized.

Before pressing play on the radio, Black Sabbath 'war pigs' started playing.

'I'll make it a zero again okay?' Lilly said with a smirk on her face as she sat back on the seat looking at the road.

'but still what are we doing tonight?' Lilly asked impatiently.

'Just a moment princess Jesus.' Eddie cursed under his breath while throwing his cigarette out of the window.

'Glad you're wearing these shoes though.' Eddie admitted as he drove on a small road in the forest.

'Damn, Steve told me that if something weird was happening I needed to steal your van and get to the movies.' Lilly said while looking out of the window.

'Might need to take it up on him, because it feels like you're going to kill me in the forest.' She pulled her head back down in the car looking with a grin on her face to Eddie.

To which he grinned back.

Eddie stopped the car and jumped out helping Lilly out of it.

'We need to walk a little, but I promise you like it.' He said as he took his bag with him and locked the van this time walking away from the van.

'Getting weirder second by second.' Lilly admitted but she did follow him.

She jumped over a fence but she came down on a branch to which she slipped.

But Eddie caught her arm and pulled her up without her even touching the ground.

'Thanks.' Lilly said as she had gained her own balance again.

'Always.' He said as he walked forward with her.

Lilly was looking around the woods were pretty.

'I bet it’s beautiful here when the sun goes down.' Lilly said as she caught up with Eddie.

He had a soft smirk on his face.

'I'm pretty sure indeed.' He said as he looked down on the strawberry blonde.

They were walking up to an old lake house.

Lilly suddenly walked up straight.

'What is this?' she said as she almost stopped.

'The location for our date Lilith.' Eddie said as he jumped over the fence.

'Come on, let me help you.' He said as he motioned with his hand for her to come over.

Lilly took the pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and gave it to him. Before jumping over the fence.

It was big higher than the last one so she was happy he stood in front of her. Because she once again almost fell.

But he catched her and helped her stand up straight.

Giving her back her pack of cigarettes.

She stuffed it back in her pocket and waited for Eddie to open the door.

And he really did get a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

'This is the house of a frien of mine, but he's in jail now.' Eddie said.

'So I kind of water his plants and shit.' Eddie said as he walked inside

When Lilly entered it was as she expected all the plants were dead and it was a real dusty mess.

But the tv was in the middle of the room and all kind of blankets and pillows were stacked next to the couch in a clean cardboard box.

It looked like it hadn't been there for so long.

Eddie was fixing the television.

While Lilly was looking if there was still water running.

Eddie got the television working.

'I have drinks and snacks in my bag.' Eddie said as he stood up looking at the tapes in the house.

Lilly was on It and found cans of beer In his bag and popcorn.

To which she let out a smile.

She found a bowl in the box with blankets and fastly cleaned it, before filling it with popcorn she walked towards Eddie with two cans of beer in her hand and the bowl with popcorn.

Eddie had spread out the blankets and pillows in front of the television.

He offered Lilly to have a seat in his blanket fortress and she gladly took it giving him the cans and the bowl. And when she sat down she reached up to take it over from him as he walked over to the television and turned it on.

'What are we watching?' Lilly asked as Eddie let himself fall back on the pillows next to Lilly.

'The shining.' Eddie said as he took a can of beer Lilly was offering him.

'Isn't that the hotel one?' Lilly said as she opened hers to.

Eddie almost chocked on his beer.

'Wait have you seen the shining?' he asked

'I love horror movies, I only heard about this one though, never got my fingers on this one tho.' Lilly said honestly.

'God Lilith.' Eddie said with a smirk as he took another sip from his can and lighted a cigarette.

Lilly took a sip from hers to, as she scooted a little closer to Eddie.

To of course snatch his cigarette and have a hit herself.

She did however not scoot back and had the bowl of popcorn on her lap.

Chapter: Goddamn Eddie Munson

General POV

The floor was covered in beer cans.

And Lilly sat up from all the blankets she had buried herself in.

'I'm so sorry for Daniel that kid is fucking traumatized.' Lilly said while stretching herself.

'I know right.' Eddie said.

'Jack got what he deserved though, the guy went fucking manic.' He said while putting the popcorn bowl away.

Lilly felt her heart in her throat.

It was great hanging out with Eddie and watching movies with him.

The sun had gone almost completely down.

Lilly got up to go to the toilet and when she came back Eddie was gone.

'Are you fucking kidding me?' Lilly said but the backdoor was open.

She stepped outside and noticed it had gotten a little chilly.

'Eddie I swear to god if you're going to go all Jack on me. I'd like to know where your keys are.' Lilly said aloud.

A shiver ran over her spin.

She should have put a sweater on.

Lilly put on a cigarette as she had actually a pretty great view.

The house was perfectly placed the backyard was a lake and the front was a forest.

She walked towards the scaffolding where a small boat was almost sunken completely.

Lilly threw away the last part of her cigarette and stretched herself before turning around.

She did not at all notice that Eddie was standing behind her.

So when Lilly turned around she almost shat her pants.

She fell backward the shock on her face.

But Eddie was faster and he catches her by the small of her back and her arm pulling him towards her.

Both of them fell on the wood of the scaffolding.

And Lilly was fuming.

'Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie !' She sat as she lay between his legs on his chest.

She sat up grabbed his t-shirt and shook him.

'Are you out of your fucking mind, I could have gone fucking berserk if I hadn't thrown my cigarette away, fucking burning you!' she cursed at him.

'But you didn't did you?' Eddie straight up answered.

Making Lilly fume even more.

'You fucking ass, you really don't have any shame or ... ' Lilly wasn't finishing her sentence.

Because she couldn't think of a word

And because of the way, Eddie was fucking staring at her.

His hellish smile on his face.

Staring straight into her eyes.

His hand was still on her back.

Lilly gulped and looked down at her hands and let go of Eddie's shirt.

Straightening it.

'What's the matter, Lilith?' Eddie said his voice a bit lower.

'You.. You!' Lilly bit her lip.

'Me what?' Eddie asked again a smirk on his face still looking for contact with her eyes.

He brushed the hair out of her face.

'You want me mad don't you Edward.' Lilly said as her fuming face suddenly turned.

Eddie's eyebrow raised up.

'Don't you Edward.' Lilly said again as she licked her lip

Eddie was silent for a second.

But Lilly grabbed Eddie's shirt and pulled him closer to her.

'Thought you would be the one doing this.' Lilly said under her breath before she almost kissed Eddie's lips.

But she stopped an inch away from him.

She could almost taste his lips.

But she held steady.

Because she knew it would just hurt his echo to much if she was right.

She felt Eddie's breathing change and he closed the gap between their lips.

Lilly let go of his shirt and let her hands slip up to his shoulders and she let her arms fall over him.

He shifted to pulling her closer by her hips.

When Lilly pulled back a little they broke the kiss.

Lilly sat back and Eddie let his hands go off her hips and sat them behind him on the wood of the scaffolding.

'Let's get inside it's getting cold and you have goosebumps.' Eddie said his voice still low as he stood up and pulled Lilly up.

She dusted off her pants. And walked in front of him towards the house.

Eddie was walking behind her.

He was definitely looking at her.

Lilly was pulling up the straps of her top.

They were falling down constantly so this whole evening he was focused on her shoulders.

Not because he was looking.

But because she was shoving the straps back up, distracting him and looking again.

He then saw change in Lilly's movement.

She started running towards the house.

'No no Lilith.' Eddie said as he sprinted after her.

Lilly went inside and wanted to shut the door in front of him.

But he was faster that by the time she wanted to shut the door ( Let's say Lilly needs to pull the door towards her to close it)

Eddie pushed his hand on the door so Lilly couldn't close it.

'For fucks sake.' Lilly cursed under her breath.

'For fucks sake what Lilith?' Eddie said his voice even lower.

'Wanted to lock me outside?' he replied to himself.

He took a step closer to Lilly.

To which Lilly took a step backwards.

When he stood inside he closed the door behind him.

Pulling a hand through his hair.

'Well Lilith?' He said again.

Lilly had taken another step back as she bumped against the couch.

He let out a chuckle before walking towards his backpack.

Lilly almost let out a soft sigh.

'It's getting dark out I'm pretty sure I need to bring you home soon, before I have big brother Harrington all over me.' Eddie said. He was searching for his care keys in his bag.

Lilly was folding the blankets.

When she put one over the couch and a few pillows too.

'Lillith?' Eddie said as he couldn't find his car keys and she didn't respond.

'Looking for these?' Lilly said as she rambled with his carkeys.

He turned around as she sat on her knees on the couch.

'It's only 10:30 on a Saturday night~

I'm pretty sure he won't miss me right away.' Lilly said biting on the inside of her cheek.

'I'll give you your car keys back at 11:30 okay?' Lilly said as she put them in her pocket.

Eddie let out a chuckle and a smile in the corners of his mouth.

Lilly stood up from the couch.

' Do I really need to pull you here?' she said as she stood on the side of the couch.

Eddie didn't let her say that twice as he almost jumped over to the couch.

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #Stranger Things season 4 #ST S4 #ST s04 #Stranger #Things #The upside down #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things x you #Stranger Things season 4 x you #Stranger Things x reader #Stranger Things x fem OC #Stranger Things x OC #Stranger Things season 4 x reader #stranger things season 4 x Fem Oc #Stranger things season 4 x Oc #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie the freak Munson #Edward Munson #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x fem oc #Eddie Munson x OC #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie fluff #Stranger Things fluff #Eddie munson smut

[nicostiel]

#iconic

#strangerthingsedit #stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #st 4 #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #*myedits

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

[torossosebs]

#stranger things season four #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie and dustin #dustin henderson #gaten matazarro #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader

[tinythebunni]

Eddie “the freak” Munson x cheerleader reader

!! Big Stretch Baby !!

You were probably ruining your reputation by just being in his trailer. You were definitely ruining your reputation by getting fucked by Eddie Munson. The freak of Hawkins High School.

You didn’t know what it was about him, something just drew you in. Maybe it was the way he lived life like it was only him that mattered. Or maybe it was the way he smiled after losing a fight with your boyfriend, with blood staining his teeth and winks sent your way.

It didn’t matter much now, you couldn’t even think with the way his hands were massaging your tits and his hand sliding down your underwear. You squealed and kicked your feet when he pinched your clit, almost as if you were trying to get away.

“Oh no baby, ’m not letting you go that easy.” He remarked as spread open your folds with his index and middle finger.

You looked up at him, chest heaving and eyes glossed over with need. “Been trying to get in this pretty pussy for years, you’re such a fucking tease. Wearing those tiny cheer skirts, been such a slutty lil baby.”

Your back arched into his touch as your hands curled into his bed sheets, face curled in his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans in his neck. He continued fucking his fingers into you, two digits deep inside you, hitting that spongy spot that made you see starts. His thumb rubbing you clit as you spasmed against him.

Just as you were about to cum around him, he pulled away from you, leaving you feeling empty. He looked down at you and saw how you clenched around nothing, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

Eddie almost always went commando, made it easier for him to pull himself out his pants and jerk off to you at cheer practice. He’d pull down his pants and pump up and down his cock until he lost all restraint and came to your tits peeking out your bra and silly little cheer top.

He spins you around so your facing him, slamming his lips against yours. You moan against him, hands trying to figure out where to go. You were such a cute little thing to him, you and your goddamn doe eyes staring at him, hands moving up and down his body, trying to figure out where to place them.

Eddie wanted to ruin you completely and utterly. He wanted to break you down and build you up and replace you with only thoughts of him and mold you into his slutty little plaything. He wanted to train you to get wet even at just the thought of him.

He kisses down your neck while your hands fiddle with his belt buckle and jeans. Your nimble fingers fumble with the zipper, messing up a fee times from nerves and arousal.

His cute baby.

Slipping his jeans down and off completely, you look back up at him, catching sight of his leaking pink tip. Eddie was average sized, maybe 6 or 7 inches. But god! Was his dick girthy. You didn’t even know if you could fit it in your mouth.

Almost as If Eddie could hear your thoughts, he spoke up. “Uh uh Baby, you can taste me another time. Right now I wanna get inside that gorgeous cunt of yours. ‘Know she’s achin for it.”

Eddie pulls your panties to the side and lines up his tip with your opening, tapping it against you as you whine and grind down on to him.

“Shh baby, be patient f’me, know ya got it in you.” Oh he was gonna just ruin you! But that’s exactly what you wanted. He slid inside slowly, groaning at the feeling of your walls fitting to accomatd him. “Biiiig stretch baby, can you handle it?”

You nodded rapidly, already too fucked out to answer. Your tongue was slightly out your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks form how badly you needed to come. He could feel you clenching around him and the slight roll of your hips as you tried to get him to move.

You could feel the slight pain but you didn’t care. You just wanted Eddie! You just wanted him in you and fucking up into you and god the way you could feel your tummy bulging had you curling your toes.

“Fuck baby, you see that? See how deep I’m in you?” As if to prove his statement, he fucked up into you, holding your hips as a handle for him. You let him use you, let him use you like a fucktoy. You just wanted him on you. You wanted it all.

You forgot to answer him in your daze, which he obviously caught. Eddie grabbed your cheeks, pushing them into a pout as he kissed your face. “Look at you, ya dumb thing. Can’t even answer a simple question?” He pushed your hips down onto him so you’d grind down onto him, his tip hitting the perfect spot inside of you.

You could feel the smirk on his lips while he continued kissing you, moving down to your neck, moving your shirt out the way to make space for him.

He couldn’t wait to see you walk into school tomorrow, blushing bought red as your ass cheeks from his hand prints, desperately trying to cover up his hickeys and love bites. The thought made him groan against you, as you panted and held onto his chest trying to get a grip on reality.

“Gonna fuck you dumb baby. Don’t cover up these marks either. Wanna watch your stupid fucking boyfriends face when he sees how much of a slut you are for the freak.”

What a fucking pervert.

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson brainrot #eddie munson fem!reader #bimbo!reader

[punk-in-docs]

Hi! What do you think of an idea of Eddie as a secret admirer? 👀

❤️My Funny Valentine❤️

The sickly horror of St. fucking Valentine’s Day. Ugh.

Everywhere at school is all fluffed up and candied. Tongue red and rose pink with Valentines Day mushiness. The worst. The hallways are lined with craft paper cut out hearts and tacky glittering sentiment.

You’d rather eat pebbles.

You’d not wanted to take part in this ridiculous farcical holiday. Really it was hideous enough that your mom giggled like a ten year old girl this morning when your dad slid her a candy pink envelope. Her name looped on the front. Feigning surprise that she has a mystery man in her life.

They shared a silly kiss that has you cringing into the bowl of your honeycomb cereal. Slinging your eyes up and rolling them over. School was bad enough. Suffering the indignity of romance over the breakfast counter too, was just entirely nauseating.

You literally have to shoulder your way past couples making out to get to your locker. Some springy haired cheerleader and her letterman clad jock. There’s posters up about the Valentine’s Day dance in the Gym. It will be wall to wall slow dancing and pink confetti and red foil curtains shimmering off the walls. Those sad foil wrapped heart-shaped chocolates on the tables.

It’s all going to be predictably over stuffed with couples. One of which you are not and you’ve never felt it more keenly than today. Everywhere else is pink hearts. Yours is content to remain throughly charred black and miserable.

You manage to peel your locker open. Batting away the paper hearts. Let’s be real, you wanted to rip them up really.

You won’t get asked to that dance. You won’t get any invites or cards- or anything. You’re resigned to your singledom.

That’s the worst thing of it all. If you had someone to share it with, you may have been able to hate it less.

A small slip of wonky paper flutters out your locker and dances, arches and dips, across the air to land at your sneakers. Puzzled, you heft your books down and reach down to grab it.

When you lift it up you don’t recognise the hand. But there on the jagged paper is a line of spidery scrawled words in chicken scratch red biro. Your stomach swells and swoops with the words:

“Hey cutie. Wanna go to the dance with me? EM.”

What? EM. Your brain flips and rattles around like that Rolodex your mom uses. Sheets of card and names and flicking around trying to locate one.

EM? Who is EM? And why do they want to go to the dance with little old you-

You weigh the paper in your hand and dart your head over your shoulders. Twisting around to see if you can catch sign of anyone. Anyone at all.

Lip locked couples around you. Gaggles of friends huddled close. Chatter and bubbling noise and sneakers on Lino filling your ears. Laughter and gum chewing and gossip and-

Oh-

About ten lockers down from you, someone is leaning against theirs. Arms folded. Eyes flicked fully forwards to land on you.

You know full well whose that locker door is from sight alone. The one plastered in heavy metal bands you’d never heard the names of. Rock star. Devils, skulls, forked tongues and Hellfire-

Eddie Munson is stood there with his puppy dog brown eyes and a completely smug grin on his smart mouth. Such a pretty mouth. His face is entirely framed by that spill of wild dark curls. Big broad leather-denim meshed jacket made his scrawny frame look good.

You catch his look and it’s purely confident. It oozes with charm and you swallow all sticky cause. Holy shit is this boy cute.

He jerks a nod to your hands where the paper is. You look down and at his urging turn it over seeing you had three options sat by the wonky row of boxes. No, Yes, and Hell yes.

You laugh at the absurdity of it. Your cheeks fill with naked heat and he’s stuck his eyes to the line of your teeth in your dazzling smile. Gorgeous.

When you look up. He raises his brows. Slanting them up under his wonky bangs. An expression and a question sloped into one.

You cannot bobble a nod at him fast enough.

Oh and he grins and your stomach is thrown into a sudden lurching tilt-a-whirl. Arcade music and fun and games, and cotton candy.

You look down again at the note and rub your thumb over the letters. You’re going to the Valentines dance with Eddie Munson. Dreams do come true-

A cool shadow falls across you and you only register it’s him when you look up, and he’s close and he’s mesmerising to be so near. Leather and brown eyes and swirling cigarette ash. Spun on that sugar coated smile. He whispers to you and you alone.

“I’ll pick you up at eight, Valentine.”

~

Needless to say, he’s ten minutes late to pick you up but god love the boy, he made an effort and dressed up real nice. Sneakers and an old suit. It’s my uncle’s. Had to dust it out of mothballs.

He may have been forcibly wrangled into a suit. But there’s no doubt he made it his own rocker style. Still wore his wallet chain, and his bow tie was black with little white skulls on it. He ran a brush through his curls - made them fluffy. And slapped a handful of stinging cologne on his cheeks.

He buys you a corsage with peach and pink flowers on it. You never want to take it off.

He kisses you on the cheek and lingers a second as he opens the van door for you. Too sweet for words this metal head.

He spikes the punch with vodka. Shows you the bottle. Brings it out and wiggles it at you as he waggles his brows. Drawing it from the place in his jacket pocket. He slow dances with you to Simple Minds and Cyndi Lauper.

Your arms looped around his neck as time after time blares through the gym hall. Hands resting near the nest of his wild hair. He kisses the inside of your wrist and holds your elbow. Looks you deep deep in the eyes. You’re awful glad he’s holding you up, actually.

I’m really glad I asked you. Valentine.

Your heart glows.

My dress is horrible isn’t it? You ask him with a scrunched nose and a grin. Cause it was. It was a duck egg blue ruffled monstrosity your mother paid for and insisted would be just lovely.

Nah baby. It’s cute cause it’s got you in it. He smirks. Cups the back of your hair all gentle and you swear, he’s like a drug to be hopped up on. And you never wanna quit him. Shoot him directly in your veins.

Then, he scoops you outta there, your hand clutched in his. Warm skin. Cold rings. You both share a sneaky smoke in the parking lot. And then he spends the rest of the night kissing your damn lips off as you stargaze at skull rock.

Listening to shit crackling seventies golden oldies on the static flickering radio. He dances with you then too. Skanking it around to The Clash. Police and Thieves. Sipping more warm vodka til it starts to slip down way too easy.

You don’t dance pretty and neatly, you thrash around like idiots and you both laugh your heads off. And it all ends in sultry slow kisses that taste like Marlboros.

He returns you home way past curfew. And you’re giddy, a little wobbly drunk, heels in hand, and you’ve taken your hair down.

You’ve laughed and smoked a cigarette and danced with him holding you close by the hips. Sure you’ve slurped vodka from the slim bottle smuggled in his pocket tonight, but you’re way way more dazzling drunk off the sensation of kissing him.

Maybe St. Valentines Day isn’t so bad after all.

~

More Eddie stuff? Come take a look-

#punkwrites #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x original character #stranger things #stranger things season 4 x reader #eddie munson headcanons #valentines day #valentine #be my valentine #secret admirer #secret admirer eddie #asks and asks #asks and fluff

[kohanayaki]

.:Survive the Tide:. (Eddie Munson x Reader) Ch 3

The gang takes refuge in your house in an effort to keep Eddie safe and come up with a plan to defeat Vecna. You find yourself grappling with your budding feelings, the loss of a friend, your resurfacing past with Billy, and the return of a fight you thought was over. Luckily, you don't have to do it alone.

LINKS:   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

___________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:In Some Other Life:.

“So this. . . thing-”

“Vecna,” Lucas supplied as you paused.

“You really need to stop naming these things after D&D monsters,” you sighed.

“Seconded,” Eddie grumbled, “it's confusing and mostly inaccurate.”

“So Vecna,” you corrected yourself, “has been targeting mostly young adults in Hawkins and uses their trauma to get in their heads and kill them?”

“More or less,” Max said grimly.

“Why?” you asked, “I mean, not to assume this thing has any real motives, but this is a step up from what we've dealt with before. You said he spoke to you, like real sentences and shit.”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, “He's definitely the most sentient being we've come up against from the Upside Down. The demogorgon was pure brawn, the mind flayer was pure brains, but Vecna has both. Not to mention the power to affect people in the real world without even crossing through the Gate.”

“Fantastic,” you deadpanned.

“As far as motive goes,” Robin said, “we've. . . got a theory.”

“Something tells me it's not good,” you said.

“It's not,” Dustin grimaced, “if we're going by traditional D&D lore and cross-referencing that with what he's been doing so far, we think his goal is the same as within the game.”

“Which is?” you asked warily.

“Destroying the foundations of the multiverse and reshaping reality to his will.”

You turned at the sound of Eddie's voice. Seeing him just sitting on your couch felt somehow surreal. A week ago he was the person who gave you inexplicable butterflies whenever you thought about him. Three days ago he was the person who ditched you at the movies and hadn't reached out since despite knowing your close friend had just died. An hour ago he was the person who had murdered said friend, and now. . .

You drew in a deep breath. You had to focus on the situation at hand; you could sort out your feelings later.

“Right,” you said, “So in D&D this is the guy with the cult, right? Should we be worried about him having a following?”

Eddie, Dustin, and Lucas stared at you like you'd grown a second head.

“What?” you huffed, “I pay attention when you twerps talk about your campaigns.”

“Color me impressed, if not somewhat concerned for my privacy,” Dustin said, earning an eye roll from you, “But yes, you're right. The Cult of Vecna doesn't seem to have any real world parallels, but we think he might be trying to build something like it.”

“When he had me trapped, he said it was time for me to join him,” Max said, “I saw everyone he took, and they were. . . ” she swallowed hard, the image all too clear in her mind, “they were almost on display. Like trophies on a wall. I don't know exactly what his plan is, but he's keeping everyone he's killed for a reason.”

Your stomach churned at Max's words, feeling your breathing turn shallow at the thought of him keeping Chrissy's body in that awful place, even if it was in another reality.

“Plus, we know the Mind Flayer was trying to do the same thing when it-” Steve faltered, trying to avoid mentioning Billy, “When it started taking over people's bodies in the real world,” he said carefully, “That thing was building an army.”

“And if we assume that most creatures from the Upside Down share the same goal,” Lucas said.

“That means we're royally screwed,” you finished.

“Not if we had El,” Nancy pointed out.

“El's the one with the superpowers?” Eddie asked.

“The one who's on the other side of the country and doesn't have superpowers anymore,” you amended, “What's your plan? Just waltz into the Upside Down through the Gate that doesn't exist anymore and kill a mostly invincible, mind-controlling monster without knowing where he is or having any idea of how to take him down?”

“Actually, we know where he is,” Robin said, “Nancy's a genius and found out Vecna had some sort of connection to the old mansion at the edge of town.”

“It used to belong to Victor Creel,” Nancy said, “That guy in the 50's everyone thought murdered his family. But Robin and I visited him, and he told us that what actually killed them was something that killed in the exact same way the recent victims died. It made him see visions of his past, of his worst fears. It lifted his wife into the air and broke her bones. It's the exact same curse.”

“Patrick was attacked when we were at the house investigating,” Robin continued, “and all the lights went crazy, just like they did the first time the demogorgon appeared.”

“So you think Vecna's lair is that house in the Upside Down?” you said.

“Almost certainly,” Dustin nodded, “Although finding a Gate and a way to kill him is still a work in progress.”

“When isn't it?” you sighed, “But I'm seriously proud of you guys for figuring all this out. It's not your first rodeo anymore.”

“We saved the world three times, we can do it a fourth,” Dustin grinned.

And for the first time in the last torturous few days, you found yourself smiling.

“I know we can,” you said. As you looked around the room you almost chuckled at the sight of this ragtag team of unlikely friends. If anything you looked like a knockoff Breakfast Club, not what you'd picture when you thought of a team of heroes. But the fate of the world as you knew it was once again placed in your hands, and you knew you would succeed. You had to.

“I'll, um. . . I'll just be a minute,” you said, getting up from your seat, “Anyone need water or anything?”

You were met with a chorus of shaking heads and muttered 'no, thanks' as you headed to the kitchen. You opened your fridge unit and fished out three frozen pizzas from the back. Not the most nutritious, but they'd do. You placed one on each rack of your oven, letting it do its magic. As you stood there waiting for them to finish baking you took a deep breath, your fingers instinctively coming up to massage your temples. Every part of this scenario was becoming increasingly unbelievable the more you thought about it. It felt like your brain was racing to catch up with its own thoughts, and a wave of fatigue washed over you.

Suddenly, Dustin's head popped out from the doorway and you immediately brightened, not wanting him to worry.

“Pizza?” he said, kneeling to stare straight into the oven.

“I could tell you guys were starving,” you said.

“How'd you know?”

“You twiddle your thumbs when you're hungry,” you grinned, “Steve might've taken my job, but I was your babysitter first.”

“Not a babysitter!” you heard Steve shout from the living room.

“He can keep telling himself that,” you chuckled, “Besides, you've been on the run for days. Can't imagine you were able to stop at a Burger Chef while you were hiding Hawkins' most wanted.”

Dustin gave you a pensive look. Even in a situation like, this your first instinct was to take care of them first.

“You seem. . . strangely calm for someone housing a fugitive,” he remarked.

“Oh, trust me, I'm not,” you said, “but the alternative doesn't help anyone.”

“(Y/n). . .”

“I'm fine, Dusty,” you said, “Maybe not right now, but I'll be okay.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. You kept your eyes trained on the kitchen timer, watching the minutes tick by.

“I saw what keeping everything inside did to Max,” Dustin said after some time, “I don't want that to happen to you.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” you promised, turning to fully face him, “I'm not going anywhere. Who else is gonna save your ass?”

“I think it's about time for us to save you for once,” Dustin scoffed playfully.

“We'll see about that,” you said. Another, more comfortable silence returned between the two of you. “You know I'm not going to let anything happen to you guys, right?”

“I know,” he said.

Dustin managed to go all of two seconds before flying at you, arms wrapping tight around your waist. You felt your eyes well up as you returned the hug. Dustin had always been like a little sibling to you; all of the kids had. You made a mental promise that you would do whatever it took to make sure everyone made it out of this alive, for their sake.

The high pitched sound of the kitchen timer rang out in the room, making the both of you laugh through your misty-eyed moment.

“You're turning me soft,” you said, playfully pushing Dustin away from you.

“You've always been soft,” Dustin said, “don't worry, I'll keep your secret.”

You huffed, concealing your smile as you got the pot holders out of the kitchen drawer, opening the oven door. The smell coming off the pizzas made your mouth water, and you reached in in anticipation. But just as you were pulling out the first tray, you bumped your arm on the top of the oven right above where the mitt's protection ended.

“Shit,” you cursed, quickly setting down the pizza down on top of the stove and pulling your hand back to inspect the angry burn on your arm, “Damn it. Dustin, could you please take the rest of these out and tell everyone it's time to eat? Carefully.”

“Will do,” he said, slipping the oven mitts on.

You ruffled his hair gratefully, making your way down the hall to the bathroom. You switched on the light and started the faucet, running your burn under the cold water. You hissed at the initial sensation before it began to sooth the pain.

As you looked up you were met with your own reflection in the mirror above the sink, although it looked like a stranger was staring back at you. Your eyes were red and puffy, dark circles hanging from beneath them. You were wearing the same pajamas as the day before, and your hair was an unprecedented mess. You stifled a laugh.

You looked like hell.

The thought seemed to click into something in the back of your brain, your mind drifting to the last time you had said something similar about yourself. Before you knew it, you were replaying snippets of the past  in your head, one thing leading to another. . .

“Hey sweetheart,” Billy grinned from ear to ear as he let himself in, sliding past the door you opened with ease.“God, you look gorgeous.”

“I look like hell,” you retorted.

“Still just seeing gorgeous over here, doll.”

“Laying it on a little thick, Hargrove,” you laughed, “I'm already your girlfriend, if you didn't know.”

“I do know,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his hands trailed down to slide into your back pockets, “and I'm considering myself pretty damn lucky right now.”

“(Y/n)?”

“We could go to California.”

“You'd actually come with me?”

“Billy Hargrove, you're an even bigger idiot than you look.”

“(Y/n).”

“I'm so fucking sorry. (Y/n), please. I made a mistake.”

“Yeah you did, Billy. The same mistake. Three Times. God, I can't believe I actually bought your lies.”

“I wasn't lying. Not when I said I loved you. Hell, you're the only person I've ever even said that to since-”

“We're done, Billy. Please just leave.”

“(Y/n)?!”

“No. . . god, no. Please, Billy, hold on. . . fuck, someone help!”

“It's okay. . . Just. . . let me look at you.”

“(Y/n)!”

You jolted as someone grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly. You forced air back into your lungs, your hands trembling. As your heart rate finally slowed back to normal and your eyes could register what was in front of you, you realized that the person calling your name was Eddie, his eyes darting across your features.

“Hey, are you there?” he asked frantically, “(Y/n), tell me you're with me!”

“Yeah. . .” you blinked slowly, “yeah, I'm here.”

Eddie's shoulders visibly lowered as he sighed shakily, releasing his grip on you.

“Jesus, you scared me,” he said, turning the faucet off, “you weren't seeing that clock or anything, were you?”

Your eyes widened in horrid realization.

“No,” you shook your head, “Nothing like that. I'm sorry. . . I didn't mean to make you worry.”

“Don't apologize,” he said, and you could hear the tiredness in his voice, “I'm sorry for shaking you, guess I'm still kinda frazzled. When I saw you staring into space like that, I freaked. It was just like. . .”

He trailed off, and neither of you had to finish the sentence aloud to know what he was thinking. The ache in your chest when you pictured Chrissy's smile reignited like a fresh wound ripping open, and you fought the stinging in your eyes for the umpteenth time in the last few hours. Eddie could sense your pain so clearly it was as if it was a physical presence in the room, and his own heart broke seeing you like this.

“I couldn't save her,” he said; a helpless, sardonic little smile taking over his lips out of defensive habit. “I was right there and I did nothing, except run. Which is what I do now, apparently.”

“There's nothing else you could have done,” you said, placing a hand on his forearm in an attempt to ground him, “you can't blame yourself for this.”

“Never tell a Dungeon Master what is and isn't possible,” he said, his attempt at his usual lopsided smile coming out as more of a grimace than anything.

“Eddie,” you said softly, “I'm serious, please don't think like that. You couldn't have known how things were going to play out. If you take on the weight of what might have been if you did. . .”

Unwanted memories flashed through your head; The neon signs of Starcourt Mall blurring around you as you ran as fast as you could towards the Mind Flayer. The splatter of hot blood that hit your face as it ran Billy through the chest. Max's screams. The look in Billy's eyes as he told you he just wanted to look at you in his last moments because it felt like going home.

“. . . you'll just drive yourself crazy,” you finished, fighting hard to keep your voice even. “Vecna feeds on negative emotions. Fear. Anger. Guilt. We're already trying to save Max with borrowed time. I can't have him going after you too. I can't.”

“What, the monster-slaying princess wouldn't come to my rescue?” Eddie quipped, a tiny shimmer of that lost light back behind his eyes.

“Of course I would,” you smiled weakly, “But I'd like to avoid that all together, if possible. So please, for the sake of my own rapidly deteriorating mental state, don't think that any of this is your fault.”

“Guess I could make an exception to my usual thought process,” he said with a wry smile.

God, he looked. . . exhausted. Dirt streaked his face, and dark bags hung from his sallow eyes. You couldn't imagine he'd been sleeping well the past few days. His hair was flat and matted, his clothes covered in grime and new tears in the fabric.

“If you want to rest up and take a shower here you're welcome to, by the way” you said.

“You trying to tell me something?” Eddie huffed playfully.

“Well, you do smell like dirty swamp water.”

“Don't like the new cologne? All the basketball players wear it,” he grinned— his first genuine one that week, and it was impossible not to notice how his entire face brightened.

“Down the hall to the right,” you laughed, a warm feeling spreading through your chest, “You can leave your clothes outside the door and I'll toss them in the wash.”

“Thanks,” he said, “Seriously. Don't know a lot of other people willing to risk their hides for me. . . What won you over? My roguish charm?”

“Go take a shower, Eddie,” you bit back a smile, and your silent 'you're welcome' was not missed by him. As he left down the hallway your heart felt just a little bit lighter.

As you heard the water start to run you stopped by the door, seeing his clothes in a pile on the floor. You picked them up and tossed them in the washing machine for a quick cycle.

As you busied yourself with tidying up the rest of the house, you poked your head into the living room to see the kids eating the pizza you'd made and joking around with each other. A sense of relief came over you as you saw their smiles. They'd been through so much, but they were still able to laugh like that in the face of the end of the world. It was something you'd tried to pick up from them.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the alarm going off, and your vision sharpened as you looked up at the machine and opened the door. You caught Eddie's shirt before it could come tumbling out, and you stared at the now-familiar Hellfire Club logo on its front. Just a month ago he had lent this  to you, and now it was frayed at the hem, small gashes cut in the sleeves. You shook off the thought as you loaded everything into the dryer, turning the heat on high.

“Need any help?”

You turned to see Steve lingering in the doorway, fingers tapping against the wood of the frame.

“I think I've got it, but thank you,” you said, “Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, “thanks for that. Paranormal investigation really, uh, works up an appetite, y'know?” He bit the inside of his lip, unsure whether or not to follow through with what he really wanted to ask you.

“What's up?” you asked, noticing his eyes still on you.

“I know this is kind of a stupid, relative question,” he said, “but are you okay?”

“Probably not the first word I'd choose,” you told him honestly. You watched the clothes in the dryer tumble in circles, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before turning to Steve.

“I just thought it was over,” you said, your voice raw and tired.

“I know,” he sighed, “me too.”

“I feel like I'm giving myself whiplash,” you said, “There are moments where it's fine, then all of a sudden the tiniest little thing will remind me of something, and I just spiral.”

“(Y/n), you have to give yourself a break,” Steve said, “I know your first instinct is to make sure those kids are alright, because it's mine too, but you don't have to take on everything by yourself.”

You nodded stiffly, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“Come on,” Steve said, pulling you into his arms.

“Why does everyone feel the need to hug me today?” you grumbled, your words slightly muffled by his shirt.

“Because you were robotically doing laundry while staring into the void,” Steve said plainly.

“Point taken,” you said, “You're a good friend, Harrington.”

“Yeah, I'm kind of the best.”

“Don't ruin it.”

“Hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I kind of need those.”

At the sound of the new voice you and Steve jolted apart, turning to see Eddie standing in the hallway fresh out of the shower. His hair was still wet, small droplets dripping down his shoulders and chest. The only thing he was wearing was a towel wrapped around his waist and a bemused smirk on his face; There was a tinge of bitterness in the latter that flew over your head, but that was mostly because you were busy staring.

Eddie's eyes flickered between you and Steve, his gaze ultimately settling behind you on his clothes in the dryer. You forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Right,” you coughed out, flustered, “Um, here. They just finished drying.”

“Thanks,” he said. He stepped forward and reached around you to open the dryer door, and you felt your face burn as the distance between you dissipated in an instant. You could feel the warmth coming off his body, the scent of your own shampoo in his hair. You stood there frozen, unable to get another word out before he disappeared back into the bathroom to change, the door closing just a little too loudly.

“Subtle,” Steve snorted, “both of you.”

“Whatever you're talking about, Harrington, I suggest you stop it,” you warned.

“Come on, it's almost physically painful to watch you dance around each other,” he groaned, “You're worse than me.”

“Nothing's worse than you,” you scoffed, flicking him in the forehead.

“Hey, watch the hair,” he said, slapping your hand away.

“And we're not 'dancing around' anything,” you insisted, though your heart pounding against your ribcage betrayed you.

Steve leveled you with a look, and you both knew the words that had just come out of your mouth were a blatant lie.

“Whatever you say.”

Meanwhile Eddie was in the bathroom, trying to shake the water out of his hair and that ugly feeling out of his chest. As he began to get dressed he found his thoughts wandering back to you and Steve, and why the hell it seemed to bother him so much seeing you be such good friends.

Eddie didn't usually let things get to him; he'd been used to being met with ridicule and comparison his whole life, and he thought he'd done a pretty damn good job of not giving a shit. But for some reason Steve Harrington in particular had a special way of getting under his skin. He seemed like the antithesis of everything Eddie was; popular, athletic, and from a well-off white picket fence family. The fact that everyone seemed to collectively agree he was an asshole helped, but something noticeably shifted in him his junior year. He stopped hanging out with Tommy, Carol, and the basketball team, instead mostly spending time with you and Nancy; and the next year, Robin. When Eddie first met Dustin, he would always go on and on about how cool Steve was, and Eddie had to admit he was a little jealous of the way his new Hellfire recruit seemed to idolize him.

And now it was dawning on him just how close you and Steve were. It was completely understandable; you and Steve had been through hell and back, almost literally. Eddie always saw you two together even after Steve graduated, and the rumors that you were dating spread like wildfire at Hawkins High, though Eddie had never given them any thought until now.  

He sighed deeply, slapping his face lightly with his hands to pull himself out of his thoughts. He looked around for his belt and his chain, and when they came up nowhere he realized you must have taken his things so they wouldn't get ruined in the wash. His heart softened, his irrational bout of jealousy quickly replaced by a tinge of guilt. You were a good person; it wasn't your fault you were so damn likable.

As he exited the bathroom he could hear a vaguely familiar Rolling Stones song playing upstairs, from what he could only guess was your room. He slowly walked up, stopping in front of your door which was cracked slightly. As he knocked it swung open a little further, and he saw you look up at him from your seat at your desk.

“Hey,” you said, your eyes widening as you realized you still had his stuff, “Oh, right.” You got up from your chair, crossing over to your bedside table where you'd made a small pile of belongings you found in his clothes; including a half pack of Marlboros, a lighter, a few stray guitar picks, and of course his belt and chain.

“Feeling any better?” you asked, handing them over. Eddie took them gratefully.

“Well the swamp water smell is gone,” he said, scratching lightly at the back of his neck, “And my clothes don't stick to me like a latex glove anymore, so that's a plus.”

“Glad to hear it,” you chuckled.

As Eddie used the mirror to adjust his chain, he caught sight of the rest of your room behind him. A string of Edison light bulbs lined your ceiling, casting a warm glow over the space. A few different scented candles were burning in the corner where you were reading. Countless books and VHS tapes lined the shelves by your bed, and your walls were covered in movie posters, vinyl sleeves, and pictures of you and your friends. The record player on your desk was still spinning that Stones song, and Eddie understood why you'd come here for a little peace of mind.

As his gaze swept across the floor, he noticed a box full of cassette tapes at his feet, and Eddie grinned at the sheer variety you owned. There was everything from Prince, Elton John, and The Beatles to Megadeth, Iron Maiden, and Metallica. As his eyes landed on a certain tape wedged in the side of the box, he grabbed it in disbelief.

“Hold on, is this mine?” Eddie turned to you with a look of mock scandal as he held up a copy of Dio's Sacred Heart between his fingers.

“No?” you said sheepishly.

“Lies.”

“I swear, I was going to return it,” you said.

“And more lies,” he tutted, turning the tape over in his hands, “but it is kind of the best album ever, so I understand your criminal behavior, though it isn't excused.”

“Didn't you say you shoplifted this from Family Video?”

“That's different,” he waved off, earning a small smirk from you as he leaned against your desk. It was only then that he saw what you were reading through before he came in. It was a worn red notebook, wide-lined and filled with scribbled guitar tabs.

“That was Billy's,” you said when you followed his gaze down to the book, your heart squeezing slightly in your chest.

“He played?” Eddie asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” you said, “He wrote his own songs too, even though he never had a band. Mostly metal, but he actually penned a few soft rock ballads for me. . . Don't ever tell anyone I told you that.”

“Cross my heart,” Eddie swore with a small grin. He thumbed through the worn out notebook, the binding almost immediately flipping open to a page in the middle. A polaroid picture doubled as a bookmark; It was a front facing shot of you and Billy sitting on the hood of his Camaro. You were beaming at the camera, squinting slightly against the sun as the wind whipped through your hair. Billy was looking at you with a small smile on his face, his expression surprisingly serene. Next to the photo were loosely connected tabs scrawled on stray pieces of paper, wedged in between the pages of lyrics, written and rewritten again and again in a web of songwriting process that Eddie was familiar with.

He never knew Billy Hargrove that well. How you had befriended the gruff playboy was a matter that confounded all of Hawkins High, but Eddie suspected it had something to do with the way you threatened Billy the first time he made a move on you, which led to him immediately giving you his number. Billy wasn't the most pragmatic student, always in some kind of fight and sending half the basketball team to the infirmary at least once. Although Eddie was okay with the latter offense, there was no denying Billy Hargrove spent a lot of his time being a grade-A asshole. Your messy breakup was proof enough of that. Hell, he'd almost run over Dustin and the kids with his car. But. . .

'Girl, you're the California breeze that sends me on my way.'

Looking down at the pages in front of him, he almost chuckled as he imagined Billy writing something like this.

“He was complicated,” you said, as if you'd read Eddie's mind, “not an excuse for how he acted sometimes, I know. But I think. . . in some other life, you would have gotten along really well.”

Eddie let out an amused little huff at that as his eyes lingered on the tabs for the solo. It was slow, intricate, and covered in detailed markings that showed off Billy's play style. Eddie could hear it clearly in his mind as his gaze drifted across the annotations. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he could almost feel Billy watching him read through it, a self-satisfied smirk on the west-coaster's face as he knew Eddie was impressed.

Some other life, huh?

A sad, nostalgic smile tugged at your lips as you re-read the familiar lyrics.

“He died a hero, and we can't even tell people that,” you said quietly.

“Billy knew about all this Upside Down stuff?” Eddie said in surprise. You nodded.

“Last year, his body was taken over by the Mind Flayer. That explosion at Starcourt Mall? That was us fighting it. In the end he was able to fight back against its control, and he sacrificed himself to save El's life. To save all of our lives.”

The crease in your brow deepened as that feeling of fatigue crept up on you once again.

“I thought that was the end,” you said, “But now I can't help but feel like he died for nothing, because it's not over. It's what had me so spaced out earlier when you found me in the bathroom, and-”

“No way,” Eddie said, making you look up. There was an intensity in his eyes you hadn't seen before; a sincerity that caught you off guard. “Not a chance he died for nothing. If he didn't do what he did last year, you wouldn't be alive to save the world again right now. If I've learned anything about myself in the last week, it's that outside of D&D, I'm no hero. What he did? That's some certified heroic shit right there. In my experience, if someone sacrifices his life for the rest of his party, he did it so that they could live theirs to the fullest potential. Jumping back into this shit head first, being as fearless as you are after everything you've seen. . . I think he'd be proud.”

You stared at him, your eyes immediately welling with tears, and Eddie's own widened in horror.

'Shit,' he thought, panicked, 'Definitely didn't want her to cry. What the fuck is wrong with me? What do I do? I can't just take it back. What if I make it worse? How-'

His train of thought was derailed completely as you suddenly threw your arms around him. Eddie stood there for a moment, frozen, before slowly wrapping his arms around you in return. Standing there with you in the warm light, your bodies seemingly fitting together perfectly, it just felt right.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Eddie thought his heart would leap right out of his chest. He felt your tears start to soak into his denim vest, but he just held you tighter; the embrace was something he didn't realize he needed just as much as you. He put up a damn good front, but he was fucking terrified, and if he seriously thought about what was going on for more than a second, he was afraid his cowardice would make him run as far away from this as he could and pretend like none of it was happening. But you grounded him more than you could ever know.

You buried your face into his shoulder, breathing him in like your life depended on it. This was your third hug of the day, but the first that you had been the one to initiate. Dustin, Steve, Eddie— everyone in this house had become such a crucial part of your life. No matter how fucked up things got they were always going to be there, you had to remind yourself of that. You and Eddie stayed there for a moment in each other’s arms, and for the first time the entire week your mind quieted, and you felt truly at ease.

Read Chapter 4 Here !

Taglist: @bloodyziggy, @getosugaru, @httpjiikook, @castiels-lilass, @bubblebuttwade, @slvtherinseeker,  @dontcallmesavvy, @eddiemattress, @nightless, @sleep-yv, @tabloidteen,  @katiemrty  @lokidala @aereth @shinydixon @lune2u @whatisbeefifnotcowpersevering23 

List is always open!  

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #billy hargove x reader #stranger things season 4 x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson x y/n #Billy Hargrove #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things 4 x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington #jealousy #multi chapter #stranger things season 4

[peterthepark]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.” 

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again. 

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 

Summer has never felt so long. 

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 

You’re completely devastating. 

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?” 

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it. 

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 

He’s milked. Spent. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke. 

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 

God forbid they have coyotes, right? 

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 4

[themunsonator5000]

Baby Eddie after his first ever gig at the hideout - 1983

Please credit if you use

#eddie munson #eddie munson edit #joseph quinn #joseph quinn edit #joe quinn #joe quinn edit #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things edit #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson manip #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #corroded coffin

[luvsfics]

Thinking about the morning after with eddie. He’d be so sweet and he’d wake you up with kisses down your bare back and shoulders.

The sunlight sneaking through the blinds, the birds chripping outside, eddie’s soft lips pecking down your spine.

He’d stop at the end of your sacrum, his rough hands grabbing at your ass, folding with it before giving your ass a light slap, making you whine at being woken up by his playful actions.

“Let me sleep, you ass.” You groaned, snuggling into his pillow, squeezing your eyes shut.

“But I miss you..” he whined, kissing your sides, his long hair tickling your back. You groaned, turning over to meet his chest.

“Well, this is a much better view.” He smiled as his gaze moved down to your tits, all in their bare glory.

You slapped his chest, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into you, pressing his delicate kiss to his lips.

His big hands travel down your body and settle on your waist. As you break the kiss, you both get lost in each other’s eyes, gleaming at each other and savoring the sweet moment.

“My beautiful girl.” He mumbled as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You giggle as he began pressing small kisses all over your face and neck, his lips feeling ticklish on your soft skin.

“Eddie!” You laughed, trying to push him off you. His fingers began to tickle your sides, making you laugh even harder.

You could get used to this.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson season 4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #fanfic #fluff

[nicostiel]

these two keep getting gayer and gayer with each other. that’s it, that’s the post.

#sorry for low quality 😭 #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #joseph quinn #jamie campbell bower #eddie munson #vecna #st 4 #stranger things 4 #st #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #*myedits

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: Part 2--Reader now confronts Eddie about his text last week. Feelings are spilled and sheets are ruined.

warnings: oral (f. receiving), praise kink, pet names (good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets, honey), dom!eddie, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation (brat, slut, whore, cockslut), squirting, aftercare

word count: 3.8k

a/n: This is part 2 to "Oops", which we now get into the real reason you all are here.

Part 1

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

He had to lie about talking to Callie from chem but it was better than the truth. He knew then that you didn’t feel the same way as him, and it hurt him. He meant to delete the photo after you ended the call but his mind was too clouded so he took a walk and forgot about it later on. If only he knew what you did that night looking at said photo.

“The truth?” Eddie didn’t know why there was this sudden burst of courage rushing through him, maybe it was the beers, or the weed or maybe it was just the fact that he needed to tell you how he felt, no matter what your answer was.

You nod your head at his question, turning to get a good look at him. His eyes were shut as he leaned against the wall, his neck stretched enough to show his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“Yes.” You’re confused for a second, yes he didn’t know or yes he did know? “I knew it was you, I mean.” 

Oh. Oh, OH! Your brain scrambles thinking back to the picture and the text, ‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you’. That’s what the text said, so did that mean it was you he was jerking off to?

“So the text…”

“Was about you. Yeah.” His shoulders rise a little before falling, like a weight had literally been lifted off his shoulders. His eyes are still closed, scared that if he opens them he’ll be met with a grin on your face before you laugh at him.

“Eddie,” You say softly, moving to sit up on your knees. He doesn’t open his eyes or move his head, “Eds. Look at me.”

You scooch forward, sitting next to him, your thigh touching his own. His eyes crack open at the touch, his gaze locked at the ceiling still.

You reach your hand up and cup his cheek, guiding his face to look at yours. His eyes are glossy, like he’s trying not to cry. You give him a soft smile, your own eyes begin to well up with tears. 

“I need you to listen to me, got it?” You wait for him to nod before continuing, “I love you Eddie. Both as a friend and more. I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you sent that photo, that wonderful, hot, sexy photo,” He tries to move his head away but you pull it back to you, “That photo that I ended up looking at as I made myself cum that night.” That caught his attention. He opened his mouth to say something but you were quick to stop him, resuming your speech.

“Eddie, why didn’t you just tell me you liked me? I wouldn't laugh at you or anything, if anything I’d probably realize I did too. I just don’t understand why you had to do that to tell me. Not that I didn’t love it, I did. Just, I need you to say it.”

He looks at you for a second more, making sure you’re done talking before speaking himself.

“Sweetheart,” His hand reaches up to hold your own, the one on his cheek, “If I’m being completely, 100% transparent with you. I didn’t think I was worth your time. You are way out of my league and the fact that you chose to stick by me all these years just made it even harder not to fall for you. But you,” He squeezes your hand, “You are the one I want to be with. Always have been, always will be. I don’t want anyone else. I love you so damn much baby.”

The new pet name made a smile creep onto your face, the tears finally breaking the barrier and spilling down your face. 

This man, your best friend, the one you didn’t know you loved as much as you truly did until a week ago, loves you back. You’re so happy that he loves you back that you can’t even stop yourself before you launch forward and pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, your soft lips meeting his chapped ones, a perfect pairing.

You pull away after a few seconds, needing to breathe. Your foreheads are touching as you stare at each other, love and lust filling your eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” You nod and Eddie leans in for another kiss. This one being harder than the other, more passion and lust thrown in. Eddie’s tongue brushes over your bottom lip, wishing for access that you give without a second thought.

You moan at the feeling of his tongue meeting yours, the taste of weed, beer and pizza still lingering. Eddie’s hand moves from its place over yours and to your waist, being met quickly with his other. He holds you tightly, afraid that if he didn’t you’d slip away from his grasp. You move your leg over his going to straddle his thighs. He helps you situate yourself on top of his lap, lips never once disconnecting.

The new position lets you feel just how hard he is under his sweats, the boner that you’ve only ever seen through a screen under only a few layers of clothing. You start to grind your hips on him, making him groan into your mouth at the friction. His hands move down to your hips, helping your movements, while yours tangle themselves in his hair, feeling just how soft it really is.

You grab a handful of it at the base of his neck, pulling lightly as you continue making out and grinding on him. On one particularly rough thrust, his sweats hit that perfect spot on your clit making you moan into his mouth and pull his hair hard. He lets out a deep groan at the feeling, which makes you smile into the kisses, now knowing a little secret about him.

“Shit baby,” Eddie breathlessly says as he pulls away from you, “Need to taste you. Please.”

The words go straight to your core, making the wet patch between your thighs grow.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“I want- I need to. Been dreaming of this forever,” He pulls further from your face, gauging your reaction, “Will you let me take care of you?”

You nod your head, “Words baby. I need words.”

“Yes, please Eddie.” The words come out more whiny than you’d wanted but you could care less at this point, all you can think about is him between your thighs.

Eddie flips the both of you over, laying you down so your head is on his pillows. He goes back to kissing you, leaving kisses all over. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, before roaming further down, to your neck, sucking little hickeys wherever he goes.

You just lay there relishing in the feeling of his mouth on you, your hands still in his hair. He glides down to your collarbone, sucking another hickey there. His hands are sliding all over your body, up your thighs, gripping your hips, towards your waist, pushing the shirt you have on up, exposing more skin to him.

“Can I take this off princess?” He looks at you, his big brown eyes almost black with lust.

Without responding you sit up quickly and yank the shirt off of your body, tossing it somewhere on his floor. You lay back down, now in only your underwear in front of him. There’s something about Eddie still being fully clothed while you were there basically naked in front of him that turned you on more.

“Jesus, princess. You’re so damn pretty,” He guides his hands towards your boobs, looking at you for permission, which you give, before palming them, “These perfect goddamn tits.” 

He leans down and starts sucking on one, kissing it softly at first before taking the nipple into his mouth, nipping it lightly. The other is being rolled between his fingers, pulling delicious moans and whimpers from you. He removes his mouth from one with a pop before giving the other the same treatment.

You try to buck your hips up into him, needing some type of friction, but his weight stops any possible movements. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and it’s driving you crazy not being able to see it, and have it inside you. Eddie bites a little harder causing you to scream out in pleasure/pain.

“That’s it baby. Let me hear you, I want every little moan and whimper,” He’s smiling at you as he goes back to trailing kisses down your body. He stops just at the waistline of your panties, slipping one finger through, pulling it back just to release and snap it against you.

You moan out, the slight sting feeling good. Your eyes followed him as he continued down, kissing your hips, and thighs. The teasing is driving you crazy but it feels so good at the same time, you love the feeling of Eddie’s lips on you. Eddie reaches your knee, planting a light kiss there before pulling away from you completely.

“You sure about this? We can stop now if you want,” His words seemingly far away in your ears.

You look at him and shake your head, his hair is disheveled from your fingers raking through it, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you, his sweats are tented containing the thing you want most right now. You sit up, crossing your legs beneath you as you reach for the hem of his shirt.

You tug at it until he gets the hint and pulls it over his head, tossing it down next to yours. Your eyes roam over his chest, eyeing the dark tattoos that contrast with his fair skin. You let your fingers wander over them, tracing the outlines and shapes etched into the skin forever. Eddie’s breathing quickens at the feeling of your fingers on him, he swears he could watch you do this all day but right now he needed to taste the girl of his dreams.

He grabs your wrists lightly, pulling them away from him much to both of your protest.

“Please, let me taste you. I wanna make you feel good,” He pleads with you for the second time that night. You stare at him above you before you look down at the ground; you’re scared now because you’ve never had someone go down on you, especially since you’ve only ever had one boyfriend who thought about himself more than you.

Your hesitation makes Eddie worried, he squats down in front of you to be in your eyeline.

“We don’t have to go any further. I’m okay with just going to bed now if that’s what you want.”

“No!” You quickly reply, “No I- I want this.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to.” His eyes are soft, caring and full of truth.

You nod your head, “I want this Eds. I’ve just-” You sigh, “I’ve never had anyone…you know, go down on me.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words. He knows you dated someone a few years ago, assuming that the both of you did a lot together. But knowing this only fueled his need to please you more.

“Then let me be the first. I promise it’ll be amazing, for both of us,” He grabs a hold of your hands, “I want to make you feel amazing. Will you let me?”

You look at him, the lust in your eyes turning to pure unbridled love for the man in front of you. You nod your head, “Yes, I trust you.”

A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face as he goes back to his full height. “Lay back down for me sweet girl.” You follow his instructions, resuming your previous position on his bed. Legs wide and waiting for him.

He crawls over you, kissing his way towards your mouth. He plants one on you that has you moaning and bucking your hips into him again. He smiles into the kiss, pulling away and kneeling down so he’s eye level with your dripping cunt. His hands move like feathers over your skin reaching your underwear and slowly peeling them off of you.

His eyes never leave yours, making sure you’re comfortable as he pulls them off of you and throws them behind himself. Once he knows you’re safe and good he kisses up your thighs, towards your core.

You whine under him, he’s going too slow. You need his mouth on you and now. Eddie finally places the gentlest of kisses to your clit, pulling a squeal out of you before you buck your hips up in return. He smiles and goes in, licking and sucking the little bud until you’re a writhing mess under him.

Then he moves his tongue down, circling your hole a few times before slowly inserting it. He groans at the feeling of you pulsing around him, his hips rutting against the bed as he enjoys this just as much if not more than you.

The feeling of him inside of you, even if it is just his tongue is amazing and you can’t wait for more. Once Eddie thinks you are warmed up enough he glides his hand up to meet his mouth, replacing his tongue with one finger. The stretch it gives you is so new and pleasurable, once you get past the slight pain of it all.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Taking my finger so well, think you can take another one? Hmm?” Eddie looks back up at you wanting to see you fall apart for him. You nod frantically and mewl at his question, falling deep into the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Aw look at you, already so cock drunk and I’ve not even given it to you yet. You gonna be a good girl for me and take another finger so I can stretch you out for this cock?”

“Yes, please. Ed-” Once the word leaves your mouth another finger enters you, the pain shooting through you before being taken over by blinding pleasure.

Eddie pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, not wanting to hurt you, yet. But all you want is to cum, to feel yourself fall apart at his doing. The feeling of your core tightening signals both you and Eddie of what’s about to happen.

Eddie then attaches his lips to your clit again, sending you over the edge, cumming all over his fingers and face. He pumps his fingers until he feels you loosen around him then takes them out.

“God you taste so damn good sweetheart,” He crawls back on top of you, face to face before guiding his fingers that were inside of you to your mouth, “Taste yourself baby.”

You oblige and open your mouth, sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He groans at the sight, the way your eyes roll back and you moan around his fingers. He pulls them out because if he didn’t he was sure he’d cum just watching you like that.

Eddie goes to take off his sweats but you stop him, “I wanna make you feel good too Eds.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, he’s thought of your pretty little lips around him so much and you offering it right now is like heaven but he knows that the moment your mouth touches him he won’t be able to hold back. “Sweets, you have no idea how much I want to watch that but right now I need to be inside of you. I’ve waited long enough, you can suck me off another time, promise.”

He kisses you then pulls his sweats down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, red and leaking precum just like the photo. You can’t stop yourself once you see it, you reach out and take it into your hands, stroking it slowly, softly, taking your time to relish in the feeling of your hand around him.

Eddie seems to be doing the same thing, moans and groans falling from his lips until his hand grips your wrist to stop your movements, “Gotta stop baby, or else I’ll bust right now.” He laughs a little before leaning down to give you a small peck on the lips.

He lifts himself up onto his hands and reaches for his bedside table, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small, aluminum square. He rips it open with his teeth before sliding the latex over his hard on, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

He looks up at you, eyes locking, “You sure about this? We can still stop.” He’s so sweet and kind it makes your heart ache. You place your hand on his cheek, he leans into the touch.

“Please Eddie. I’ve never wanted anything more.” You give him a kiss, filled with love and lust and passion. With that he slowly pushes in, just the tip to get you used to the girth of him.

Your head falls back onto his pillows, one hand moving to grip his hair the other his back. He pushes in a little more, inch by inch until he is finally all the way in. The groan he releases when he feels you clench around him, getting used to his size, is like music to your ears. A song that you could listen to on repeat for hours on end.

“Need you- need you to move Ed, please.”

“Gimme a sec baby, wanna make this last.”

A few seconds later he pulls out only an inch or two before going back into the hilt. The feeling of him moving sends shivers down your spine, loving every moment of it. He gains more confidence and pulls out all the way to the tip before slamming back into you. The way your tits move from the force makes Eddie’s mind go blank.

Eddie’s pace is slow and rhythmic, just trying to let you adjust to him, but you need more.

“Faster Eddie. Faster.” It falls out of you as a moan, barely audible to yourself but he hears it and grants your wish picking up the pace. Your moans grow louder as his pace speeds, you start mumbling incoherent things.

“Good girl, take this cock like the little slut you are. Bet you love it when I call you my little slut huh?” You squeeze around him at his words, “Oh I felt that baby. You like it when I degrade you don’t you my little whore, hmm? Gonna always be the little cockslut that I know you are. Falling apart with me inside of you.” 

You’re not even trying to hold anything back at this point, the feelings being too good to try to stop, “God Eddie you feel so good. You’re so big, dammit!” He hits that sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolled back and mouth wide open but nothing coming out.

“Oh, is that the spot honey? That the spot that makes you feel good?” He moves against you to hit that spot over and over again. Your brain goes numb, not registering anything that’s happening around you, too shrouded in pleasure to care.

Eddie’s talking to you but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Next thing you know he’s circling your clit with his fingers again, pulling a particularly loud whine out of you.

“Ed, I’m gonna- Shit! Feel like I’m gonna pee, gotta stop.”

“Oh but sweetheart that’s what I want you to do, wanna see you cum and squirt all over this cock of yours. Come on cum for me baby girl. I know you got one more in you.”

His words ring in your ears, but they sound so far away. The feeling of his hand gripping your hip and the fingers on your clit and the dick inside of you all becoming too much and you just let go. There’s a gushing sound as Eddie pounds into you faster and harder, now chasing his own orgasm. It rips through him just as hard as yours did you, his white sperm spilling into the condom. A small part of you wishes it wasn’t there, to feel his seed inside of you, maybe even have it stay there until you get pregnant.

Eddie collapses on top of you, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s planting small kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, waiting out the wave of pleasure that just overtook the both of you. Sooner than you’d like he’s getting up and pulling out of you, making you whine at the loss of him.

He exits the room for a short amount of time, returning to you in the same position. He starts to wipe you clean with a warm towel, being careful of your sensitive clit before pulling your shirt and underwear back on you. He puts his own clothes on, neglecting his shirt this time around. He goes to the side of you, picking you up bridal style and carrying you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

He returns to his room to change his sheets and lay a towel down to soak up what seeped through. Once his sheets are changed he goes back to get you and places you back in his bed, pulling the covers up over you. He gets you a glass of water for when you regain consciousness and some pain killers he knows you’ll probably need.

Eddie gets in beside you, pulling you close, rubbing your arm as you breathe softly into him. A few minutes pass before you start to open your eyes. He looks down at you, brushing some hair away from your face.

“Hey there you are. How’s my girl doin’?” That smile you love so much is spread across his face.

“Mm, tired. Sore. And very happy.”

“I got you some water and painkillers,” He reaches over and grabs them from his bedside table, “Take these and drink this.”

You sit up a little and do as he says, drinking all of the water in the cup before resuming your position curled up at Eddie’s side.

“So how was it?” A smirk on his face.

“Eh, it was okay I guess. I’ve had better.” Eddie scoffs and hits your arm lightly, which just makes you giggle.

“Damn guess I gotta kill you now. Can’t have you going around telling people I’m only okay in bed,” He retorts back.

You look up at him, “And who else do you think you’ll be sleeping with? Cause if it’s not only me then I’ll keep my promise of castrating you.”

“Oh so you want to do it again, even after it was just okay?” You slap him in the chest.

“I’d do it a million more times if it feels that good after every one,” You say before giving him a kiss, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Already am sweetheart,” You give a quizzical look, “Since the day I met you I was yours. Always will be.”

You smile at his words, planting another kiss on his lips, “And I’ll always be yours.”

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader