#bsf!eddie munson

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 4,752 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, swearing, loneliness, mentions of drugs and crime, mentions of imprisonment, family issues, feeling unwanted, slight bullying, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, depression, loss and grief, mentions of spit, super brief mention of alcohol and vomit, very brief mentions of breakups and inappropriate sexual relations (nothing reader or eddie are apart of). i think that’s it!

a/n: this is my first attempt at a slow burn series so i hope it’s good! i’m also trying a new setup with photos instead of gifs ^ i’ve seen a lot of other people do it and i think it looks really cool so! also creds to who owns and posted these photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

Eddie Munson had grown bitter since you last saw him. To be fair, the last time you saw him was when you were kids but still. You always knew him to be boisterous. Adventurer Eddie. Eddie with the weird ideas and cool drawings. Eddie who made you laugh until your stomach cramped and you would cry out that he was going to make you wet yourself.

You didn’t know it as a kid but even then he couldn’t catch a break from the world around him, and apparently it never stopped spiraling even when it beat him into a hollow shell covered in grease during the weekdays and alcohol—and occasionally vomit—on the weekends. He was worn down by his own worries that never seemed to cease and miserable stories of others admitting things they should’ve never said aloud. Sometimes the stories were fun or at least amusing, but mostly just depressing. This was Hawkins after all.

This wasn’t an Eddie you knew. Had someone told you that man in the garage wasn’t him, you simply would’ve nodded and kept going on your journey to find him.

But it was him, and you were positive he was meant to be back in your life. No matter how much it was hurting right now.

*

You didn’t know why he left at first. It was as if he ceased to exist, and sometimes—when you were all alone at night—you wondered if he had been a ghost. If he had been an imaginary friend, but surely not? He had his own home you hung out in. His own dad who let you guys eat too much junk food and stay up too late. He looked and sounded real when he would scarf down several bowls of honeycomb cereal with those slurping noises you always hated and would whine at him over. He felt real when you would play wrestle—and unfortunately very real when he won and would pin you down while slowly letting a string of saliva stretch down towards your face in an empty threat. He never really did it, but it was gross all the same, and when he’d let up you’d punch his arm as hard as you could.

One day, you asked if your parents remembered him and your father scoffed at the question while he stared at the newspaper, but at least he acknowledged you at all. Meanwhile your mother had all her focus on putting her earrings in and checking her makeup in the small mirror on a wall surrounded by family photos. Those framed pictures felt emptier than the looming threat of Eddie’s spit touching your face.

“Well his father’s a bottom feeder stuck in prison,” your dad flicked his paper to straighten it out again from where it had begun to bow backwards. “And his kid is probably no better. You’ll make other friends.”

You never understood why he was so cold about the loss of your only friend. You’ll make other friends. Yeah right. No one liked you. Everyone made fun of the way you sat idly on swings just to kick on occasion as you focused more on the book in your hands, or the way you’d squat down and give all your attention to a bug in front of you. Either a line of ants that you regarded with pure intrigue because you wondered how they always filed so neatly and did their best to stay together. Sometimes you left crumbs by them just to see if you could watch them pick them up. You’d watch snails and show them the attentiveness and respect you felt they deserved as they slowly trudged along—so determined, you thought. You’d watch butterflies and try to keep track of all the different kinds you saw. A lot of them were small and fluttery with those buttery white wings, but sometimes you saw a monarch and your eyes would grow large with excitement.

You cried when Zachary McKay would stomp on the anthills or teased you about how the French ate snails—something his dad would say was just more proof of how odd Europeans are. They were one of those arrogant “We love our Country!” households with an “I can do whatever I want—America is the land of the free” ideology and it showed in their unbridled and privileged ass of a child. You didn’t inform him that one Spring of the wasp nest that formed on the underside of the slide he frequented. Maybe it was mean, but you were content in silence over on your swing when you heard him crying out in pain one day. He developed a crush on you in high school that dramatically contrasted how he treated you in grade school—and even tried to make a move at Maddi Ecker’s 17th birthday party—but you could only think of the ants and the snails. You turned him down and he was horrible to you again.

You eventually did make some friends, other odds and ends throughout your school, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Eddie. Maybe it was childish and stubborn, but you could feel it deep in your gut that he was one of a kind. So you couldn’t let him go. All those years you ached for your friend who you considered lost. He always came up with wild stories and (when you were still relatively young) you imagined he had become a pirate and was lost at sea. Or became a gunslinger in the Wild West and didn’t draw fast enough. Maybe he went to slay dragons and wound up a burnt crisp of a human. That last one made you cringe the most, but he probably would’ve liked it the most. He loved mythical creatures the way you adored real creatures. By high school you weren’t as naive. You heard about his dad—caught with multiple charges of grand theft auto, a hit-and-run in one of said stolen cars, and dealing drugs. The hard shit. Not weed or shrooms. But the kind of stuff that really ruins lives.

You always thought Eddie had a good home. His dad didn’t hate him the way you were sure your parents hated you, and he had a nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but they really didn’t need anything beyond a one story and a sizable basement with only two of them. In hindsight, you supposed he couldn’t find a home in that childhood house anymore than you could with yours. Yours lacked love. His lacked a reliable source of income.

Over time you heard about the night with all the sirens and social workers. The night he turned into a spirit that had finally moved on—an imaginary friend that your growing mind ceased to conjure. He lived with his uncle over in Indiana, rather than your small town in Ohio. Even in your mid twenties, he flashed in your mind like a small blip on occasion and it still twisted your stomach.

You thought of asking if you should go to him whenever you remembered, but you thought you needed a sign. What if you showed up too early? And you messed up any possible grand plans? So you avoided indulging in questions about him to your tarot cards or over your pendulum map. On occasion you caved and just asked a simple question: is he safe? It was a yes every time you broke and just had to check up on him, and the answer reassured you for long enough until the next time the concern rose up to unbearable levels.

But then you started getting those dreams. Sometimes they were just memories playing from deep within the archives of your mind. Sometimes they were nightmares of yelling at someone to go away, only to realize it was Eddie far too late—and when you wanted to run after him to correct the mistake, you couldn’t move as quickly as you knew you were capable of.

It went on for about a month before you finally broke. Your eyes had snapped open, accidentally waking yourself in the middle of saying what you had been shouting to Dream Eddie out loud into your pitch black room. You glanced at the time. 11:11 PM. You felt your heart skip a beat before you shoved yourself out of bed. You had to take a moment to steady yourself against your bedpost from the sudden movement making you dizzy, but then you were flicking on the light and digging through your belongings. You didn’t even give yourself a chance to wipe away at the thin sheen of sweat over your skin from August heat mixed with a cheap fan that really didn’t make that much of a difference, and the stress from the events that had played deep in your mind while you slept.

With a shaky breath, you smoothed out your map on the floor where you were squatting, and steadily held your pendulum over the center. Does he need me? You finally asked and watched as the chain connected to a sphere of rose quartz slowly began to circle. It sped up and then began to dart in different directions before finally swinging back and forth between both of the “YES''s on the piece of cloth.

*

It took a little over a month to arrange your departure from your life in small town Ohio—not that small town Indiana was really all that different. You had briefly been back at your childhood house after your lease came to an end for the apartment you shared with a friend (who didn’t want to renew because she wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the card spread you had laid out all pointed towards a breakup). All of this to say you didn’t have a lease or mortgage to tie you down. You certainly didn’t have a boyfriend (you haven’t had one since college), and you didn’t even like your job at the local mart so it was easy to give your two weeks. Your parents were just as sick of your presence now as when you were a child, and were willing to help you in every way possible to get you to just leave again. Had you not been so focused on your end goal, you might’ve taken a beat to really feel the hurt that always came with parents who only came to your aid when it meant keeping you at arm's length. But you couldn’t focus on it and really (for the sake of your mental health) you shouldn’t focus on it. All of your energy went towards Eddie who seemed so far, even if he was supposedly just a few hours and a state line away.

You didn’t have a place yet, which was a mistake on your part for rushing, but you could stay in a motel for the time being. The prices were pretty low anyways and the owner seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden source of money and company. The lot belonged to her husband who had passed a few years back, so now it was only her running the place. Her daughter helped sometimes, but she had another job to focus on—only coming to help when the older woman was ill. So even though she appeared kind of grumpy at first, she really softened up to you when you wound up padding out of your room the first night and asked if she wanted to play Go Fish. You had been feeling antsy and lonely, and you were right to assume she felt lonely too.

Over the past week or so, you found a friend in that creaking, groaning motel. You did have a bit of a tendency to befriend the adults around you more often than kids your age when you were younger and it still happened now, apparently. A shrink at university pointed out once that it had to do with the lack of guardianship and guidance growing up. That you were trying to replace something that had always been missing, but you didn’t go back to him after a couple sessions. You didn’t like how patronizing he was, telling you things you already knew. And when you asked your dowsing rods if he was sleeping with any of his clients, the two pieces in your fists whipped open in a blatant “Yes!” But he wasn’t around now to make you feel low with his supercilious commentary and his notes that he always scratched down right in front of you. Your parents weren’t around to remind you of how utterly unlovable you can be. It was just you, Martha at Hawkins’ Blue Bird Inn, and hopefully a pleasant reunion on the horizon.

Today was the day to finally see Eddie, and Martha urged some confidence into you this morning before sending you on your way with the directions to the garage. No matter how many times you clarified he was just your childhood best friend, she got that sly look about her that always showed when an adult was all amused about the novice in front of them being openly or involuntarily blind to love.

So there you were. On a mild Wednesday morning in late September, standing before Thacher Tire after a lot of asking around, a lot of time flipping through Martha’s phone book, and even more odd looks. You let out a careful breath, doing your best to reassure yourself with the knowledge that the people you spoke to knew his name in the first place. He had to be here, and even if he wasn’t working today he should at least be employed here. Maybe you could be told when to come back to speak with him or where you could find him outside of work. Would they share something like that? People don’t tend to care about privacy in small towns, that’s why everyone knew (generally) where everyone else was. Maybe if you clarified that you’re an old friend, they wouldn’t treat you as a customer and tell you where he would be.

You were wringing your hands as you eyed the door in front of you. The glass looking in was worn from age and weather, clearly cleaned so people could see through it, but there seemed to be an aging to the corners where the rectangle of glass met the surrounding wood that couldn’t be scrubbed out. It felt like a portal looking into what could be, and you suddenly felt yourself getting anxious with what exactly meant could be. You had a knack for catastrophizing, and spiraled in all of the worst case scenarios until you were running back to your car and abandoning the lot.

*

“Trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. Going for those intimidating opportunities is always better in the long run than letting ‘em slip away,'' Martha murmured to you before biting into the sandwich you brought her.

You bought typical fast food that you always came running back to when you were stressed, but she didn’t like the grease. You learned that over the past week when you brought up your bad habit, and her nose scrunched up at the mention of crappy burgers and overly salted fries. Instead you got her a tuna sandwich from the nearby marketplace, and she shared her big jug of iced, sweet tea with you.

“I haven’t seen him for over ten years…,” you sigh, toying with the crackling paper that was wrapped around your cheeseburger. “What if I’m the only one who clung onto our friendship? What if it’s stupid to him?”

“Mm, us women always do hold on longer,” she hummed thoughtfully and you refrained from your urge to correct her old-fashioned view of gender dynamics for the sake of staying on topic. “I still think you should go for it.”

“What if… what if it’s not what I think it’ll be? What if I’ve turned him into someone more fictional than Eddie in my mind, and when I’m faced with how he really is now I just… I dunno…wish I didn’t come here?”

“They never are what you conjure up. They’re always better up here,” she pointed a bony finger to her temple and you focused on one of the curls in her short gray hair for a second before bringing your gaze back to hers. “I still think you should go for it.”

You huff out a laugh at her repetition, smiling sadly to yourself as you look down at your hands and notice the thin sheen of grease on them. Maybe Martha’s right. Maybe this food is gross. You grab a few napkins from the brown paper bag and wipe at your fingers.

“Just think of it this way: is it worse knowing the truth or worse never knowing?”

*

Eddie had been having a shit day. Actually he had been having a shit week. If he let himself truly indulge in his pessimism, he’d be acknowledging that he’s altogether just had a shit life, but he was trying not to fall into that trap. It would make him the kind of depressed and bitter that made him snap at others and then feel guilty about it—which only made him feel worse about himself.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, a sudden flare up of his insomnia throwing off his circadian rhythm. He thought with how busy his schedule was that he’d knock out the second his head hit the pillow, but he only seemed to be exhausted until he finally laid down. Then was when his thoughts randomly chose to run and his heart would race with the sudden surge of anxiety-inducing thoughts. He was beginning to feel so overwhelmed by everything that his eyes burned with the beginnings of hot tears but he wiped at them carelessly with the heels of his hands before they could become too real. In his mind, they didn’t exist until they fell.

Eddie ached with exhaustion that only seemed to let up when he could actually get a shot at some rest. He ached with loss and grief. He ached with pure misery and painful seclusion and a silent trailer—besides the occasional buzz of electricity through his lamp that he turned back on when he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, or the groan of the old mobile home settling against its cinder blocks. The upcoming season made itself known through the ever growing chill that formed at night and occasionally blew through every crack and crease of the trailer, making him shiver and pull his blankets up before inevitably growing hot again and kicking them away.

He missed his friends that he rarely saw. Everyone is busy nowadays. He missed Wayne who… god, he couldn’t even think about it. He missed Chrissy who lit up his world Spring of ‘86 just for them to drift apart. People seemed to drift from him a lot. People seemed comfortable with forgetting him and giving a brief call only when they got a pang of guilt at any reminder that they were getting awfully close to leaving him behind. But who was he to drag them down? It was heart-aching enough to live the way he did sometimes, let alone when people acknowledged just how heart-aching it was. Sometimes he even missed his dad, but he always avoided thinking too hard about him before it could sink his mood to a new level that would be hard to crawl out of.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep Wednesday night until early into Thursday morning. He settled into a deep rest around 4 AM just to be abruptly woken up by his 6:30 alarm to make sure he was at Thacher’s by 7:00.

“Fuck off…,” Eddie groaned out loud and slammed his fist down onto the alarm clock, never lifting his face from where it was planted right against his worn pillow.

He laid there for what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes before he finally peeled himself out of his spot. Forcing himself from the comfort of his old mattress was never easy, especially when he couldn’t rely on any excuses he made up as a teenager to just flop right back into his bed. He had to get up. He had to work.

He went to make his usual toast just to see there was only the end piece left in his loaf of bread, and let out a guttural groan of frustration as he tilted his head back. He forgot to stop at the store. Grumbling a bitter so that’s how today’s gonna go under his breath, he shoved the sad excuse for a slice of bread into the toaster and then began looking through the kitchen for something else to satiate him until lunch.

He wound up eating what was left in his jar of peanut butter with a spoon after slathering the small piece of toast with jelly. He didn’t have time to clean a travel mug (which he forgot to clean last night) so he took a regular one with him on his commute, and wound up dumping his coffee all over himself mid-sip when he had to stop short for a kid suddenly biking across the road. The young teen laughed at the close call and made his way to the other side of the street. Eddie glanced down at his drenched t-shirt and coveralls, releasing his third irritated groan of the morning while he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of his van before focusing back on the road and moving his foot to the gas. He focused on taking deep breaths as he gripped the steering wheel and made his way to the shop.

Thankfully, Linda had already started a pot of coffee in the break room which he happily drank and patted at his wet clothing with one of the blue shop towels. Staining was inevitable and it really didn’t matter with the coveralls anyways, but that didn’t mean he had to be damp. Taking that moment at the start of his shift helped with his mood, but the amount of customers bitching over the phone about how long it was taking to get their cars back were steadily draining him back into a surly mood. The most he had to look forward to and keep himself from unnecessarily snapping at someone was the fact that it was almost the weekend—and yes he would still have to work nights at The Hideout, but at least he didn’t have to get up early.

*

Never knowing was decidedly worse.

You had concluded this after ruminating on it all night—with and then without Martha’s help. And despite all of your anxieties that were just barely buried under the surface, you made yourself go to the garage again.

An obnoxious, tinny bell sounded and a dull voice said from behind a counter: Welcome to Thacher Tire. What can we do for you?

You approached carefully as if you moved too quickly, the depressing gray and beige setting around you—which held far more meaning for you than just fixing cars—would suddenly melt away and you’d wake up.

“Do you know where I could find Eddie Munson?” you asked in a soft voice, and the woman obnoxiously chomping at her gum looked up at you over the top of her glasses before looking back down at the paperwork in front of her.

“He’s in the garage. Is he working on your car?”

Your heart jumped and although you hated to lie, you did.

“Yes,” you said probably too quickly, but it seemed nothing could get this woman to care.

“Wait over there, please,” she spoke in a voice that was just as greige as her place of work.

You thanked her meekly and shuffled over to one of the worn, faux leather and hard plastic seats. The room smelled of cheap pine air fresheners and the potent combination of oil, and that specific rubber scent of brand new tires. The space with the front desk and the waiting area was small enough to be cramped if it was a busy day, but since you were the only visitor at the moment you didn’t have to be confronted by the full potential of such limited space. You toyed with your hands and tried to pay attention to the fuzzy television in one corner of the room, but you couldn’t help listening in on the receptionist’s call.

“…’s a girl here to talk to ya… uh-huh… yeah I know… uh, no I don’t think so. I doubt it. Her voice is different from the one that keeps calling about the Ford. Might be though... ‘Kay.”

You anxiously wiped your sweaty palms over your jeans as you heard the clunk of hard plastic settling back into its cradle. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he did, but didn’t care? What if he thought you were weird for showing up? What if he grew up to be someone who stomps on anthills?

Your head shot up at the sound of a door opening and then closing from the back, and a man in filthy coveralls approached the woman behind the desk. He had messy, curly bangs settled on his forehead and the rest of his long hair was in a low ponytail. He was sweaty and clearly exhausted as he wiped at his forehead and left a swipe of grease in his wake, speaking quietly to the receptionist before making his way over to you. The closer he got, the better you could smell the grease and sweat and bitter coffee, but it didn’t deter you. What truly threw you were the circles under his eyes and the sort of pale cast to his skin that people got when they were fatigued or ill. You weren’t sure why a part of you expected to see an eleven year old kid approach you with a god awful buzz cut and big brown eyes, even after fourteen years.

This was it. This was your moment. The time to reclaim your best friend, and have the greatest person you had ever met back into your life. Why was your throat suddenly so dry? You swallowed anxiously and then parted your lips to speak and-

“Miss, I know you’re waiting on your car to be fixed before the weekend—I promise I’m working as quickly as I can.”

You tried not to cringe at the use of “miss” and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes wondering why he didn’t see an almost ten year old girl with a messy braid in her hair that she did by herself, complaining at him to chew with his mouth closed.

“I lied,” You said bluntly and the man stared at you in a way that felt blank and still despite his wonderment.

“I-I don’t have a car here. I just wanted to talk to you.”

He eyed you curiously, his hands slowly wiping onto an old rag. It looked like it had been used so many times, you doubted it was even picking up any filth on his hands but just moving it around instead. He was clearly thrown off by the sentiment which brought a sort of youthfulness to his face in that moment of curiosity before his features hardened.

“Listen. I’m sure whatever prank you have conjured up is hilarious, but I’m tired and trying to do my job.”

“No-- no, no,” you tried to clarify, shooting up from your seat. “I—I-”

But he was already swiftly stomping away from you towards the back, muttering to the receptionist with a quick and surely rude comment about you on his way. You were moments from being politely asked to leave, you’re sure, but the woman hesitated with a gentle expression when she saw you approach her with glossy eyes.

“Could you please just give him this?” you asked in a soft voice that you did your best to keep even, but of course it wobbled just enough to be humiliating. You could feel the heat in your face and (even worse) the moisture in your eyes so you did your best to avoid eye contact.

You outstretched your arm and she met you halfway with a nod, allowing you to drop the old friendship bracelet into her palm.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #angst #slow burn #slow burn eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #bsf!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson series

[eddieexcellence]

SOUR CANDY

part ii: the princess and the dunce

E. munson x fem!reader

Synopsis: back in Hawkins for spring break, the reader is back from college. She gets sucked into the madness again for the fourth time with her best friend and younger friends. Plus an unexpected and unwelcome face.

Type: fixit fic, angst/comfort, enemies to lovers trope

Warnings: cursing, pining, the kids being little shits, girl gang vs. steve, lots of sarcasm, probably not proofread v well

Authors note: hi, this chapter is a filler with harrington storytelling, little interaction between reader and Eddie, and some back story. If you’d like to be on the tag list please reply and I hope you like it! 🥲

The group gave you a more detailed rundown, what they brainstormed so far, and quite honestly you almost felt useless with everything they told you. Nancy and Robin had an appointment with the director of Pennhurst Asylum, and their fake portfolios were already made to play the part. The kids had already stole Ms. Kelley’s office keys and broke into the school for student files to get more information on the victims. You had to give Steve a not so gentle whop on the back of the head for that one and an angry, “you’ve turned my kids into little felons, Harrington!”

“You act like they were any better under your watch, Y/l/n!”

“Oh shut up!”

And they tried to breeze through the Eddie bits, but you had already bounced back from your prior shock and anxiety. Your usual sarcasm and witty remarks whenever Eddie was mentioned or in the picture equally as fierce as if you weren’t deep down a nervous wreck.

“Boy if he wasn’t wanted for murder and Hawkins wasn’t in danger this would be his absolute wet dream.” You nonchalantly threw in in the middle of the recap.

“God Y/n gross!” Dustin groaned. “Leave the man alone, he's not even in the room!”

You shrugged, “even better.” The young adults rolled their eyes besides Robin. She was amused by all your antics.

“Hm, you still need her help now?” Steve retorted to the younger curly head boy.

The lanky blond raised her hand, “I need her for her emotional support if this is what she has to bring to the table.” This caused Nancy to look down, biting her lip trying to remain stoic. Robin never got to really hang out with you before you went to college and she was highly disappointed Steve never made it happen sooner and when you did it seemed only when your lives were in peril.

“No, Robin, no!” Steve protested. “She’s supposed to be the big brain with her big girl pants on. I didn’t realize her common sense went out the window in college.” He then clicked his tongue directing his puppy dog glare to Nancy. “Oh wait I did!”

You and the other older girls looked amongst each other, feeling like scolded children. You all covered your mouths and bit your knuckles trying to remain serious, before you all busted out into giggles.

“My common sense isn’t out the window,” you clarified, calming down. “I’m still the big brain with the big girl pants on. Also I 100% believe Eddie didn’t commit the murders, but unlike this close minded town that believe what the little birdies tell them, I have a genuine dislike for him for genuine reasons.”

“You would like him if you gave it another chance!” Lucas piped up, Dustin agreed nodding.

Steve shook his head, “no no no no, Sinclair you sure did it!” He was pacing the floor like crazy with his hands on his hips.

You could only offer a bitter smile at their naivety. You never offered any insight about the ringleader when the boys called you at college telling you about the Hellfire Club they joined because you didn’t want to burst their bubble. Even if he treated you, the preppy kids, and the jocks like dirt, he still had a heart of gold towards the outcasts or ‘his sheep’. You had even considered yourself one of his sheeps long ago.

“I did give it a chance, so you can ask Munson next time you see him, get his hot take on the topic.”

You finally had enough of the grill session of your personal history with the dark curly haired man that still seemed to plague your life even after you graduated. You wanted to stop talking about him all in general for the rest of the night. “So he’s just laying low at the boathouse while you figure the nitty gritty out?” You hummed curiously.

“Pretty much,” Dustin said. You nodded, getting up, walking over to Mike’s dusty bookshelf. You grabbed a stack of the D&D guidelines and the boys old campaign books heading to the stairs. “Wait where are you going?” He asked.

“Quite honestly, at the moment it seems everything is sorted. There’s no play where my piece comes into the plan for now. I’m home two days earlier than expected, and if my mom sees my car in the Wheeler Driveway she’ll have an actual aneurysm if I didn’t stop home first. So how about I get settled, take some of these D&D books home and do my own research. I still have my walkie so call me when you need me, yeah?”

“You’re not going to help me watch the kids while those two play break in?” Steve said incredulously.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh I thought you were babysitter of the year?” You ruffled his hair endearingly.

He swatted your hands away, “stop I already know your grubby fingers are covered in sour candy powder. It's the equivalent to an old man chain smoking cigarettes all day for you.” You teasingly wiggled your fingers towards him giggling.

“Steve she is right though,” Nancy spoke up. “She can help us later, right now we have the plans in order.”

You gave him a knowing look, “See there are other young ladies here with a big brain and big girl pants on. I’ll check in when I get home and let me know when to come back!” You left the residence before any more protests came from anyone.

Your house was empty when you arrived, which was perfect because you didn’t want to be smothered by your parents at the moment. With Eddie on the loose, they probably would try to keep you locked in the house for the break. You couldn’t have that happen so you had to plan now. You ran up the stairs leaving your luggage by the front door going straight to your room. You pulled a box from the bottom of your closet underneath hidden by other boxes so if your mom tried to snoop she couldn’t find it.

Walkie talkie-check, old copies from all the research you’ve done over the years-check, a small array of weapons like a handgun you nicked from your dad’s office and hunting knives-check, a flask of some unknown alcohol to calm the nerves-double check.

You clicked the walkie talkie on, making sure it was signaled into the channel you all agreed on.

“Does anyone copy?” You asked.

“Yes Y/n, we copy.” Steve huffed and annoyed you left him on a goose chase with the kids. Max threatened to bring lawyers into this if he didn’t do as she said. So here he was driving them all around.

“Well, well, well,” another voice cut in through the speaker. Your throat ran dry, and your skin felt like pins and needles, and you could feel your chest get warm, and a blush crept up your neck. It’s been almost a year since you heard it. “Princess of Hawkins not the voice I’d thought I’d hear over the walkie but not the most unpleasant thing to happen to me the past few days.” Eddie’s voice was hoarse and husky as if he just woke up but still oozed a venomous bite.

You gulped, feeling the hair on your arms stick up so much for not talking about him for the rest of the night.

“The dunce of Hawkins? Oh golly, congrats! I didn’t have high standards for you, but here you are setting the bar lower than I ever anticipated: Hawkins most wanted.” Your tone faux sweet like honey.

You heard the walkie click and unclick a couple times as he went to respond, oh you got him good. You just had a feeling.

“If I knew you were coming home I would’ve robbed a bank too just to impress you, sweetheart.” You could hear the slight falter crack in his voice, but you knew a sarcastic toothy grin smile was on his face by the end. His dimples imprinted in your mind. You knew that smile too well.

“Mm, I’m not the one you need to impress, but a penny for your thoughts Munson?” You cooed fakely.

“Pray tell, Y/l/n?” He sneered.

“When we get this fucking mess over with and you’re cleared, you’ll have to impress the hoarde of sheep listening to the news mumbo jumbo.”

“Good to know,” was all he said. You smirked to yourself satisfied leaving the conversation at that as you went to retrieve your things.

In Steve’s BMW, they all heard the exchange between the two. He rolled his eyes, he could cut the tension between you two with the knife. It was almost comical that everything he was worried about was coming true.

“What’s with the fifth degree between them besides him breaking her heart?” Lucas asked.

“It’s not my place to tell-“ Steve started to say, but Max cut them off.

“Dodo brains, you really can’t tell or pick up on any of the hints? She is obviously still in love with him! Even after he broke her heart!” She acted like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That might be a little far fetched and exaggerated, Max.” Steve made a face. Love, that was too strong of a word to describe how he at least knew how his best friend felt back then. Maybe a crush, then he would say she finally wised up and realized how much of bozo Munson was.

“Then what is it Steve?” Max pried.

“Yeah I would like to know more about the Princess and the Dunce.” Lucas added, quoting the two.

“Sounds like it’s a canned script for a John Hughes movie.” Dustin egged Steve on.

“I-I don’t know,” he laughed nervously, gripping his steering wheel harder.

The kids could see he was hesitating, so close to telling everything.

“If you don’t spill the beans, I’ll get the lawyer involved.” Max glared at him through the rear view mirror.

“Max what the hell!” Dustin looked at her, she just innocently shrugged. She had no problem blackmailing Harrington if it’s one of her final days. He knew he would forgive her later.

He took a deep breath sighing, “fine but if any of this is known to Y/n, you did not hear it from me!” The kids cheered. “Y/n saw what you all see in him. Whatever that may be.” He mumbled the last part under his breath.

“If you could believe it, they used to be pretty close in middle school. Even convinced the brat to ditch me and get her to play Dungeon and Dragons with him.”

“Y/n played?! That’s sick!” Dustin exclaimed excitedly.

Steve smiled thoughtfully, “yeah I would say so.” Even though he didn’t mean sick the way Dustin meant it. “Anyway, as you guys know she was always a sweet and kind girl. Most people called her a goody two shoes, but Y/n had some tricks up her sleeves.”

Lucas cleared his throat, “what kinda tricks? Magic?” Dustin snorted at that.

“She loved comics as much as you guys do, and had a sweet spot for metal music. That’s what the princess and the dunce bonded about. She hated every class but Art. She was wicked good at it too.”

“Wow Y/n sounded so cool, how is she even friends yet alone best friends with you?” Max asked in awe.

“Ha ha ha, we’ve been best friends since diapers if that helps you comprehend.” Steve started to get annoyed with the mocking and comments. “If she and I met in high school pre eddie we wouldn’t have been friends. Now post eddie is a different story.” Lucas went to interject, but was stopped. “I’m getting to the point, Sinclair.”

“Y/n and I got to high school, Eddie was a junior. Girl didn’t care about reputations. Boy she got ragged on for talking to him and hanging around him. That’s when I think she really started to like him too. He didn’t have that uneven buzz cut anymore, embraced his quirks more, he had that whole Motley Crue look going on, really grew into himself. Let’s face it though my hair is still better, I wasn’t graced with Harrington as my last name for nothing.” He fixed his hair subconsciously.

“Yeah we know too much about you, more about Y/n.” Max interrupted.

“Rude,” he rolled his eyes. “So it was the end of the school year and we had the End of School dance coming up. Y/n was excited and talked about potentially asking Eddie to it. Mind you this is when we started to hang out with some older kids in our classes. They teased her a lot about it. That even if he was ‘freak’, and to have been so lucky to have been asked by a sweet goody two shoes like her; she was a pipsqueak freshman asking a junior out to a dumb dance that only freshmen really went to anyway. It was gym class and she finally had the courage to ask him. She was nervous, the upperclassmen were teasing her, but she didn’t care. She approached him and asked, he just looked wary. He stared at the group of us not too far away from her and him. He seemed to connect his own dots, accusing us of putting her up to it by asking him. He insisted it was a prank or initiation the upperclassmen made her do to get into the crew. The upperclassmen were laughing hysterically about the ordeal in general, but the fact she got rejected because he genuinely didn’t believe her that she wanted to go to a dance with him.”

“That’s awful,” Max shook her head. She felt bad for both you and Eddie. She admired you, she watched you stick up to Billy for her. She never had anyone do that outside her family, not even Billy’s girlfriends treated her so kindly like you did. She thought you deserved nothing but good things in this already messed up world. That went for Eddie as well watching him accept her three friends into Hellfire with open arms he even tried to get her, but she politely told him she doesn’t play.

“Yeah and the thing with Y/n is, she bottles most of her feelings besides happiness and anger in. She doesn’t get upset, she gets even. The summer before sophomore year was the worst because she just changed. Stopped being as free spirited and careless in the ways that made her great, and became careless and reckless in other ways. She started hanging around the douchebags I hung around more often, even tried to join the cheerleading squad.”

“I remember that! She was the worst cheerleader!” Lucas chuckled.

“When the other would go right and she would go left!” Dustin hollered. Max flicked both of them in the ears.

“What happened to her and Eddie though?” She asked impatiently.

“What you just heard a few moments ago, Eddie became the match or lighter to Y/n’s Molotov cocktail. Did you think there was something else Mayfield?”

Max shook her head, “that’s not fair.”

Steve just shot her a tight lipped smile, “that’s what happens though. Life doesn’t treat you fairly as we all know by now.”

“Do you think they would ever make up?” Dustin asked.

“$10 bucks if they do.” Lucas quipped, sticking his hand out.

“$15 if Eddie makes the first move!” Max shook his hand.

“Whoa whoa whoa, you do realize these are the two most stubborn human beings you’ll ever meet?”

“I’m going to put $10 on Y/n, she mildly scares me.” Dustin spit on his hand and held it out. The three others scoffed in disgust.

The younger teenagers looked at Steve expectedly. “No, you three aren’t roping me into a bet about my best friend and her love life!”

“If she’s your best friend, she’s so stubborn, and you know her so well this should be the easiest bet of your life Harrington.” Dustin grinned.

“Oh god I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he stuck his hand out. “Use your other han- oh gross c’mon Henderson! I have to put this hand back on my steering wheel!”

taglist: @sunfairyy @eddiemunson4ever @babygirlwilly

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson headcanons #Eddie munson smut #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn x reader #Joseph Quinn smut #steve harrington x bsf!reader #steve harrington x reader #my writing #sour candy fic

[morwap]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

nav | eddie munson x reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: food mentions, f!masturbation

word count: 2k

"you know how much it is?" you asked, unhooking your seatbelt and then grabbing your bag. Dustin seemed happy to be given a ride.

"15 i think" Dustin mumbled as he looked through it for any indication about the price. you handed him a twenty-dollar bill and Dustin thanked you then got out of the car and jogged to the store. you laughed softly as you shrugged your bag over your shoulder and got out, locking your car as you walked into family video.

family video always had a distinctive smell, like an old carpet but it was oddly nostalgic. you made eye contact with robin and steve, smiling at them as you start browsing movies.

your finger followed your eyes before stopping on back to the future, you never got to watch it when it came out so now was a good time, now thinking about what your night might be like. your mom worked a night shift tonight and your dad would go up to bed around 8 so you could go into the living room with popcorn after he's gone up to bed, you finished all your homework on Friday so you didn't have to worry about it.

the chime from the store doors took yours and Steve and Robin's attention, Dustin walked in and held up the new comic and you gave him a thumbs up with a smile.

you made your way to the register.

"hi robin," you said and smiled softly as you pushed the movie towards her, robin smiled then looked over at steve who had his arms crossed.

"see dingus, y/n knows me in high school and she's a cheerleader," she said making you laugh a little as steve rolled his eyes and shook his head before Dustin caught his attention.

robin started to check you out, you gave her your dad's account for the charge then she bagged it up, robin thanked you for coming into family video. you smiled at her and told her you'd see her at school.

"oh yeah, yeah, Eddie your new best friend"

you caught them in the middle of their conversation, you gulped at the mention of Eddie even though you had been thinking about him all damn day. taking in a deep breath and trying to shake the feeling of nervousness that had washed over you.

"what? you're both my friend- ugh whatever- I'm now gonna go with my NEW BEST FRIEND Y/N" Dustin scoffed playfully, you laughed and started walking towards the door with Dustin following.

getting back into your car and gently tossing your bag into the back after you got your keys out. starting your car and breathing in deeply as the new fresh air flushed out the smell of carpet. thankfully. 

"where to now Henderson?" you asked, backing out of your parking spot and checking your mirrors.

"you know where Eddie Munson lives?" Dustin asked, your throat went dry. Eddie Munson just seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

"um- he lives by max, right?" you stuttered out. 

"yeah! that's where I was going after family video, we're making dnd figures for hellfire" Dustin said, the chipper tone in his voice made you smile. he was just like when you babysat him, always sweet and funny, a total sweetheart.

"That sounds fun, hellfire is the club, right? I thought the shirts were pretty unique" you said, driving in the direction you knew was the trailer park. you smiled over at Dustin.

you've seen max in the halls and saw her over the summer at the clothing store you worked at the summer of 85' sometimes you were also her guide when the school year started, you had a group that consisted of max, mike wheeler (before he gravitated to Eddie because of two things, Dustin was part of Eddie's group and Eddie was talking about hellfire), will byers (but you learned he had moved and they just didn't take him off your list), Sidney and ted. Chrissy's group joined yours after you two just decided to show them around together.

"if you join you can get a shirt," Dustin said, the smile on his face staying strong. you laughed softly and shook your head,

"maybe one day, don't think you all would like to play with someone that has no idea what it even is, plus I'm pretty busy," you said, making sure you declined softly to make sure he knew you were just making fun of them for being into dnd. you heard Dustin laugh and agree about you being busy.

pulling into the trailer park and Dustin told you he lived literally across from max and as you pulled in Eddie was sitting on the steps to his place smoking a cigarette, you two made eye contact as you put your car into park. you took in his curly hair and the grey muscle shirt he was wearing that showed off tattoos.

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you then blinked and lifted his brows, surprised to see you but you could understand that. Dustin greeted Eddie with a smile and wave, you opened your backseat door, getting Dustin's bike out of your backseat gently and trying not to scratch your car or his bike.

Dustin came around and helped you get it out, you heard Eddie get up from where he was sitting. you looked over your shoulder and made eye contact once again. Eddie smirked and cocked his head as he took a puff of his cigarette before stubbing it out and then tossing it to the ground.

"comin' back for seconds l/n?" Eddie teased, the smirk staying on his face. your breath caught in your throat, as you just whipped your head around and got the bike out.

"have fun," you said to Dustin with a smile, he thanked you for the ride and comic book money then went to lean his bike against Eddie's van then walked up to Eddie. eddie's eyes never left your frame as you shut the backseat door and then got into the driver's. you looked at him one more time, he was opening the door for Dustin but still keeping his eyes on you.

you smiled at him and he smiled back then turned his attention onto Dustin and walked in, shutting the door behind him. you started to back up and in the back window, you could see max coming out of her house.

turning your wheel and then straightening back up, now you could see her out the passenger side, you smiled and waved at her as she had a plate in her hands. max waved shortly, a brief smile appearing then vanishing. you heard from Lucas that her brother was in the mall fire and that since then she hasn't been the same. your heart broke for her, especially when seeing her come out of the counselor's office when you would walk Chrissy to her session.

driving out of there and turning the radio up, trying to keep Eddie from your mind by replacing the thoughts with what you should get for lunch and dinner. you could get a burger now and then heat up the pizza you had at home. Wendy's was the closest so you went for that, plus they had a new burger that came out.

you pulled into your driveway, the warm bag of food sat in your passenger seat. grabbing all of your things before getting out of your car and then pressing your keys to lock it. your dad was still in his recliner, you rolled your eyes and walked straight to your room. tossing your keys, bag, and the movie onto your desk as you sat down on your bed with your food.

tossing your now empty food bag into the kitchen trash then heading to the laundry room, taking your clothes out of the washer and putting them into the dryer. you tossed in your mom's laundry so she didn't have to do it when she got home.

you checked the time and it was now nearing 8, you heard your dad yawn and a smile crept onto your face as you went back into the kitchen and got out a big bowl, and the jiffy pop from the cabinet and set it next to the stove with some paper towels. now all you had to do was wait.

you wasted time by reading magazines, more like circling some of the shoes they advertised or some clothes that you thought were cute until you heard your dad leaving the living room. now it was 8:40, you grabbed the movie and headed for the living room.

setting it on the couch then going to the kitchen and working on your popcorn.

you made it halfway through the movie before your eyes started to feel heavy, your blinking turning into closing your eyes then starting to drift off then your body jumping awake. you yawned and turned off the movie and took the tape out, sitting it on top of the tv stand.

sleepily walking to the kitchen and dumping out the leftover popcorn and then putting the bowl into the sink then making your way to your bathroom.

after doing your bedtime routine you changed and got into bed, letting your thoughts consume you until your thoughts went from what you were gonna do later to Eddie fucking Munson, from his grey muscle shirt to his tattoos and his hair that you could tell he didn't style today then to the way his lips wrapped around his cigarette.

sleep had left you and it was replaced with a feeling that made you press your thighs together, you moved onto your back and stared at the ceiling.

sliding your hand down your stomach and into your pajama pants. it was only natural to feel turned on by a person you've had relations with, right? plus him teasing you earlier was supposed to make you feel like this.

your thoughts trailed back to when his hands were on your body, roaming it like he owned you. your hand got lower and slipped into your panties, moving your fingers to where you wanted them the most before moving them in circles. closing your eyes and moving your head on your pillow to get comfortable.

remembering how his lips kissed at your skin and went lower and lower, the way his warm tongue pleasured you without needing to be told where you wanted him to focus, you tried mimicking what he did with his tongue when he went down on you but it just wasn't the same even though it felt good. moving your fingers on your clit, and slightly rocking into your hand.

you hummed softly as you got into a rhythm that felt good, your breathing picked up a bit as you went faster and applied more pressure. imagining that Eddie's lips were on your neck moving down to your chest, then going lower and lower. imagining that you could grab his hair by his roots while his tongue would be lapping at your clit over and over, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs in your dreams.

your fingers felt different than his but you tried not to think too hard about it, the nicknames he called you rang in your ears, trying to hear it as if he was saying it right now. your mouth opened a bit, the softest noises leaving you as you could feel your orgasm coming in quick, knowing if you kept the pace up you'd cum quick. your cunt clenched around nothing.

in your mind, you screamed his name as you came, but in reality, you let out a soft low groan as you finished. your cunt spasming as you let off your clit and took your hand out of your pants.

staring up at the ceiling. masturbating to the thought of Eddie Munson would have never been something you would've done a week ago but here you are.

you got up and headed to the bathroom, washing your hands and cleaning yourself up.

after a bit you were back in your bed, your eye lids feeling heavy as your head hit the pillow.

#𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 e.m #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things eddie #stranger things fanfic #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson stranger things #mean!eddie munson #bsf!chrissy cunningham

[rustboxstarr]

I NEED chaotic!stoner!tomboy!Bsf!Reader and Eddie. Like I crave it! If y’all have any fic recs send them my way please!!! Not like shy reader and have been in love with each other the whole time but natural besties who are assholes to each other and best friends and like completely platonic and THEN realise they in love, I WANNA SEE THAT!!

Omg should I write something like that? I feel like I should? Yeah imma do it.

Anyway, if y’all know anything good feel free to tell me!! ❤️❤️

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #starrthinks #eddie x bsf!reader #eddie Munson x bsf!reader #eddie x best friend reader

[taintedcigs]

— late night blues

pairing: roommate bsf!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you can’t seem to sleep, so eddie offers to drive you around, but you have something else in mind that can make you relax and help you fall asleep faster; his fingers. (wc: 3.1k+)

author's note: not proofread. entirely self-indulgent. and normally i would gaf about interactions but i literally dont rn. i needed this <3 and for all my insomniacs out there... i appreciate u and i am u. hope this is like a warm/horny hug to all of u as much as it is to me. bc i need it desperately. the ending is kinda rushed i am so v sorry. pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Hogging the blanket you sank deeper into the couch, the light illuminating from the TV screen enough to have you squinting, but never enough to lull you into sleep.

You huff, impatiently, trying to shut off the voices in your head, thoughts swirling around everywhere and anywhere, making it impossible to let you embrace the sweet sleep you so desperately need.

"Why are you awake?" A low groan of Eddie's voice almost startles you, slight gasp leaving your lips, making you sit up straight with a deep breath.

"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, "didn't wanna wake you."

"Should've," he grumbles, stomping on his way next to you, "y'know I can't sleep knowing you're awake, right?" A lazy smile is placed on his lips when he slouches right next to you.

The couch sinks with the impact and so does your stomach, the implications of his words not going unnoticed, the two of you have always been close, too fucking close to being considered as just friends.

Yet, none of you ever made any effort.

And you were growing tired of it, because, shit, did you like him. And a part of you, as well as everyone else in the gang kept teasing you about, told you he liked you too. Just waiting to be pushed.

"Wanna smoke?" He asked with a hum, "might help you sleep better." The brunette placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, another act the two of you always did, affectionate, too affectionate to be just friends, yet none of you ever dwelled on it, despite it leaving your entire body on fire in its wake, and Eddie's stomach churn with delight as you always smiled up at him. Sweet, almost peaceful, making you nod quietly, looking so fatigued that his chest ached for you.

"Was t'tired... couldn't roll one." You point toward the mess on the coffee table, grinder open with strains stuck in it, crumpled-up rolling papers, and a bunch of filters sprawled everywhere.

"How about we take a drive, princess?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the pad of his thumb slowly circling your face, tender and making you melt into him.

You shake your head quickly, not wanting to bother him in any way. "Eds, it's too late, I don't want you to-"

But he's quick to scoff. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Eddie, I mean it, we can just smoke this here and-" He tuts you quickly, already getting up, his Garfield sweatpants fully in view, making you giggle.

He takes your hand in his, dragging you while you huff and puff. "Grab a jacket or one of my hoodies, and let's fuckin' roll, honey."

Once you throw over one of his oversized hoodies, he almost carries you to the car, not wanting you to lose that sleepy state, knowing that it'd be hard for you to get it back.

You buckle your seatbelt, just watching him in his groove, head falling into the headrest as you admire him rolling a joint so quickly that it makes your head spin. "How the fuck can you do that?" You groan, "'s not fair." A pout overtakes your lips, causing him to grin. He wants to kiss it away, yet all he does is tuck the strands of your hair that are covering your features, turning your lips into a mellow smile, matching his.

"Well it helps if you were a dealer in high school." He rambles, a hearty giggle escaping from your lips, "I'll teach you some time too, honey, promise." You nod in acceptance, and another kiss is planted on your forehead, one you happily accept, let his warmth overtake your skin, eyes glazy and lidded as you look up at him, sleep deprivation so apparent in your face that it tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, seeing you this miserable. And not being able to do anything about it. Yet.

Quickly retrieving the lighter from his back pocket, he places the rollie on his lips, letting the igniting flame heat it quickly, sizzling sound as he inhales a small huff before passing it onto you calming you further.

You suck on it with a hum, watching the way Eddie quickly turns on the ignition, windows rolled down, the same relaxing tape playing over and over again, volume dimmed, Good Feeling by Violet Femmes serves as a background drop, one of your favorite songs, and of course, Eddie knows it.

The velvety dark sky steals your attention as you once again suck on the fragrant joint gently cradled between your fingers. Letting it engulf and numb you, for your bloodshot eyes to have a reason other than being restless.

A gentle breeze whispers through the cranked windows, rustling your hair in front of your face, making you giggle lightly. Three puffs, and you are already feeling giddy, "not too strong is it?" he asks, glancing at you with the biggest grin on his face, amber hues watching you intently.

"Nuh-uh," you hum, and his hand tenderly droops down to your thighs, giving you three gentle squeezes as a form of comfort. At least, he intends it to be for comfort.

But all you can think about is how thick and warm his fingertips are, cladded rings bringing a coldness that makes you hiss, tummy doing a flip as your hazy mind craves more.

It is the last piece of the puzzle you need to finally fall into that deep slumber, Eddie making you cum on his long fingers, curling inside of you, rings slicked with your juices, it's all you can think about.

You whine at your thoughts, throat growing dry at them, not knowing if it is cotton mouth or how stunning Eddie looks while focused on the road.

The perfect side profile that you can't help but admire; chiseled jaw with the slightest stubble that you'd do anything to have it rubbing against your clit right about now, Adam's apple bobbing slightly the more he gulped, lips plushy and so soft that you wanted nothing more than to bite into them, have them suckling your neck.

Fuck, this could be it, couldn't it?

You were already a bit dizzy, giving you enough courage to ask him to, and if he rejected you, you could always just turn it into a joke, couldn't you?

You rasp a desperate breath when his hands squeeze your thigh again, prominent veins making you mewl. His head cocks towards you in worry at the sound, "you okay?"

You barely register his words, gaze too focused on the tempting hold he has on you, "hmm?"

He quirks a brow, a smirk playing on his lips when he realizes how hazed you are, "are you hungry or something, sweetheart?"

Yeah, you were. Hungry for him.

You shake your head slightly. "You sure?" He asks, more attentive, and you can feel your wetness pool around your thighs, slicking you.

"Mhmm," you reply, head turning to meet his gaze, and when he slightly tilts his head, his shaggy bangs fall onto his forehead, making you gulp physically, he looks beautiful.

"Do you want anything?"

If he was any more attentive, you were going to crawl into his lap and grind on his bulge that hugged the print of Garfield on his sweatpants, "Nope," you gulped, prying your eyes away from the outline of his huge cock forcefully.

"Need anything?"

"You." The words slipped past your lips without any interference from you, it's like your subconscious was doing all the talking you had been so afraid of.

The insomnia and weed becoming a dangerous combo.

He choked out a laugh, cheeks crimson red, spreading across his bone like crushed raspberries. "Hah, funny aren't ya?"

He avoided your gaze, yet your head snapped to meet his. "Eddie- I-I mean it."

"Sweetheart," he mumbled, a low groan awaiting in his throat.

Doe-eyed, melting, and pleading hues finally met his. "P-please, Eddie, need it so bad, need to cum, relax," you coaxed, hand placed on his, squeezing it back, causing a drawl of sigh out of him.

He can't bring himself to ease into your touch, his lips quivering at the thought of finding you soaking for him, "Honey, you're high," he tries to reason, voice squeaky pitch, he wants it, so goddamn bad, but he can't take advantage of you in any way.

You huff, disagreeingly. "Oh, c'mon, Eddie, I just took like three huffs, you know I'm not a lightweight!"

"Sweetheart, I know but it doesn't feel right-"

"But I'm begging you to!" Your pleading voice crushes him, cock stirring just at your squeaky tone, you're going to be the fucking death of him.

"Y-you have no idea how fucking stupid I feel for turning you down when all I want to-" He sighed. "I don't wanna do anything that you might regret."

You huff at that, does he not realize how desperately you want him? How badly you have wanted him all this time?

"Fuck, Eddie, just-" Fingertips graze his once you grab his rough hands, they are powerless in your hold, and you're quick to dip them down your pajamas, rubbing them against your cotton panties that are now entirely soaked with your juices. "Do you feel that?" Your voice is shaky, and low groans rumble in his chest, his focus on the road becoming dizzy.

It feels surreal, you begging for him, for his fingers, how wet your panties feel just because of him. His brain can't comprehend a thought, your name slipping past his lips like prayers.

He can't help but press his hand further against your panties, just to feel more of you, cock straining against his own cage of boxers, knuckles white from the harsh grip he has on the steering wheel.

And you can see the desperation in his eyes, spurring you more and more. "How fucking wet I am just because you squeezed my thigh? Do you think I'd regret anything when I'm this soaked for you?"

He can't help it, roaring the engine again before he abruptly comes to a stop on the side of the road, his mind too dizzy to comprehend anyfuckingthing. "Fucking christ, baby, I-"

You interrupt him again, head lulling to his side, giving him those desperate, lewd eyes again. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, Eddie, p-please, you said you'd help me sleep... relax, I'm more than okay with it."

You know he's on the verge of caving in, he wants this as much as you do. "Angel..." he mumbles, tone so pornographically lustful that you feel the need to show him how much you want him.

You shove his hands inside of your panties in frustration, and he groans lightly at it, fingertips run up and down your slit, never entering your hole, taking his time to fully feel how badly you want him.

He collects your wetness at the tip of his digits, smearing them over the hood of your clit, earning a shallow gasp from you, just enough to break him, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, you're soaked," he grunts, eyes watching you hungrily.

"Mhmm, all for you," you hum, head thrown comfortably into the headrest, eyes lulling. He runs his fingertips over your sides, teasing, covering you in your juices, and all you can do is mewl for him.

A digit slips inside of you easily, making you moan so loud that Eddie's cock aches in the confinements of his sweats, admiring the way your mouth gapes at how good his fingers feel. "God, you're perfect like this, princess," he hums, fingertips circling around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to get you worked up.

It makes you whimper pathetically, turns out Eddie really does know you. So much so that all you want to do is cum on his thick fingers, have him take you home, make you bounce on his cock again and again.

He pushes another finger inside of you, watching the way your cunt takes his fingers all greedily. You're the one who's supposed to be high, yet he feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy that he can barely comprehend it.

This is all real, you just begged him to finger you, and now you're mewling on his fingers, pussy throbbing as he stretches you out slowly.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, listening to the sweet sounds of your whimpers, "doin' so good f'me," his praises drive you even crazier, and loud moans escape from your parted lips the more his thumb circles around your clit.

"So greedy, hmm?" He coos condescendingly, relishing in the pretty faces you make, his ring finger joining inside of your soppy cunt easily, "E-Eddie," you mumble, lost in him, fully.

His fingers pump in and out of you at a rough pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge, he can feel your cunt squeezing his ringed fingers desperately.

"You close, angel?" He grunts, and a sheen of heat creeps its way across your chest and up your throat at how good he is, all you can do is nod pathetically, too dizzy and too lost in his fingers to even speak.

You take your plump bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stiffle your pathetic moans, but once he adds another finger, cold rings brushing against your clit, you can't help yourself.

"E-Eddie, fuck!" You moan, and he watches in awe, keeps his praises up, eager to see what you look like when you cum. He knows you'll be even prettier, screaming out his name, soaking his fingers in your pretty juices.

Your chest heaves with how much you're feeling him, stuffed full of his fingers, you can't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. Shit, maybe next time.

You pathetically rut your hips into his fingers, and he groans so filthily that your body feels frail, "That's it, baby," he praises. "Use me, honey, use my fingers to get yourself off."

Your face contorts with the sweetest pain and pleasure, his fingers plunged deep inside of you, padded thumb still continuing it's circles. Once his fingers curl inside of you, you know you’re a fucking goner.

Each of his movements, his touch, ignites a fire within you that is heightened by the weed, you are so desperate to cum that you don't even realize how pathetically you've been soaking his fingers, so wet and Eddie relishes in it.

"Oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You moan out once you feel that dizzying pleasure bubbling in your chest, he can feel your pussy flutter around his thick fingers, making his chest swell with pride. "Mhmm, just like that, darlin', cum on my fingers."

It's all the confirmation you need before you cry out his name again, back arching as pleasure explodes inside of your stomach, vision growing white and dizzy. Your fucked out face, pathetic moans, and your gaping mouth making Eddie's cock strain tighter and tighter, as if that’s even possible.

His fingers don't leave your soppy cunt until he makes sure you ride your orgasm out, relishing in the pretty expressions your face contorts to as you fall apart for him.

Bringing a stupid wide grin to his face that has you feeling giddier. The weight of what the two of you did doesn't dawn yet, you're too tired, too fucked out to care, and all Eddie can think about is going back to the trailer and rubbing one out while thinking about the pretty sounds you made, the pretty shapes your face took as you came on his fingers. His.

He'll think about how pretty your eyes look rolled all the way back inside of your head when he's slamming into you, cock stuffed inside of you, parted lips repeating his name like a fucking prayer. Your tight cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him dry.

With a groan, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking clean the remains of you, pathetically groaning at how sweet you taste. You watch him with lulled eyes, breath growing heavier, and if you weren’t about to pass out, you’d beg him for more, have his hard cock stuffed inside of you.

“Tastes so goddamn sweet,” he grunts, licking any taste of you left off his lips, your sweet juices engrained in his tastebuds.

You blink quickly to process all of it, mind numbed out. Fuck, he’s making this so goddamn hard for you.

“E—Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving as a shy smile appears on your lips, mind hazy as you try to form words. "T-that was amazing, shit."

"Yeah?" He beams, the praise is all he needs. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes glimmered at his words, air between the two of you was charged with a sweet tension. Breaths almost synchronized with the way both of your chests rose and fell on the rhythm of what just fucking happened. And all the feelings that led up to it.

You wanted to talk about it, take this further, maybe even continue back home.

But sleep began to settle inside of you, eyelids betrayed your pent-up feelings for him, already drooping in surrender.

And of course, Eddie knew by the sheepish smile you gave him, you were almost on the brink of sleep, and it was more important than his stupid feelings because the two of you had all the time in the world to talk about... whatever this was, tomorrow.

But if you lost your sleepy state, he knew you'd never get it back, “You sleepy yet?" He asked, thoughtful, caring gaze watching you intently, making you nod.

"Mhmm," you hummed, "But, Eddie..."

"Yeah?" He prompted, eager to soak up each and every one of your words.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing," you admitted, shyly, your heart leaping out of your chest in excitement.

"Thank fucking God." Slipped past his lips unintentionally, causing a hearty giggle to bubble up within you, easing away all of your worries.

Pools of warmth swam in his gaze, fully melting into you. "Me neither, sweetheart," he whispered, starting the car again, engine humming to life.

He met you with a saccharine smile. "But we have all the time to talk about that tomorrow, promise."

It hung in the air, the promise, almost like a warm hug engulfing you. All the confirmation you need.

"You just go to sleep, now, honey, I'll carry you inside," he urged, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead.

"T-thank you," you hummed, resting your head comfortably, deep slumber not taking long to find you while he watched intently, mind still running with thoughts of you.

Both of you had no clue what would happen with this; yet, you were now sure that this wouldn't remain as a one-time thing.

After all, you had a hard time sleeping almost every night, thankfully, you would now have Eddie to fix that.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fics #eddie munson oneshot

[eddiesxangel]

Could you do a smutty Eddie Munson fic where he’s your older brother’s bsf?

maybe reader has had a crush on Eddie for a while and when she finally decides to move on and date someone Eddie gets jealous?

What Eddie Doesn’t Know | Eddie x f!reader

AN: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took a while to complete. Thank you for the request; I haven’t been inspired by anything non-Christmas-themed in a while. I was literally barking at the trope.

wc: 7.1k oops

Cw: f!reader, reader is 19 and in collage and Eddie is 22 and a full time mechanic, reader goes by a nickname, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, angst, cheating (on the reader but not by Eddie), smut (pet names, oral, dirty talk, p in v), the fluffy ending!

Pathetic. That was how you felt at this moment in time. Here you were at your college homecoming party, and all you could do was be a wallflower, watching in self-pity as the love of your life. ( who doesn’t know is the love of your life) is pressed up on some girl in the back of the room.

"What are you doin' here, Tink?" you pop out of your daze to see your older brother, Adam, addressing you.

Did your parents name you Tink? No. Were you so obsessed with Peter Pan as a child you demanded to go by Tinkerbell? Yes. The nickname kinds just stuck.

"I go here?" You sass him back.

"This party is for upperclassmen only. How did you get in?" Adam was only three years older.

"Eddie's here, and he doesn't even attend school..." You gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah, cuz he is my best friend... like I said, how did you get in?"

"It's a house party, not Studio 54... I walked in."

"I'm going to kill Cory," He mumbled under his breath. Cory was supposed to be manning the door.

"Yeah, you should definitely get better security, all I had to do was let him feel up my tits, and we walked right on in..."

The Neanderthal didn't actually touch you, but the look on Adam's face when you let Adam believe he did? Priceless. You only lied so Adam would leave you alone.

What actually happened was you, Nancy, and Robin scaled the fence and got in through the back door.

"Cory!" Before you knew it, Adam was out of your hair, and you were back to being a wallflower….

"Tink there you are! You wanna continue to mope in the corner, or do you wanna get out of here?" your two best friends/roomies, Robin and her girlfriend Nancy, approach you.

"I guess let's just go." you sigh.

You can no longer bear the sight of Eddie, the boy you've been crushing on since the sixth grade, and your older brother’s best friend, leading the random girl up the stairs hand in hand.

Your stomach lurched at the thought of her hands running all over his body, how he would be on her, kissing her... inside of her. He didn't even know you were here... You should have gone up to him, maybe said hello. Perhaps he would have seen the ridiculous amount of effort you put into your ensemble just to catch his eye. But your efforts were lacking because, to him, you're always going to be Adam's annoying little sister.

You knew you had to get over this, but how could you? He has been in your life for fifteen years and always will be. Adam and Eddie have been friends for as long as you can remember. Your brother stuck by him throughout Eddie's family struggles. Your parents even took him in for a few weeks before CPS found his uncle took over full custody. He was basically your big brother, too, until your pesky teenage hormones started to kick in, and boom! You've been head over heels ever since.

''Good, let's get some greasy burgers and fries to end the night, ok?" Robin smiled.

In the 24-hour diner on campus, you were sitting at your regular booth with the girls across from you, eating your feelings, trying not to think about what Eddie was doing with that girl.

"So that party was a bust, huh?" Nancy spoke first.

"Yeah, totally... probably because Adam's house hosted." You giggled.

"Not to mention Eddie still didn't see you -OUCH." Robin looked over at Nancy, who was giving her a look of distaste. "Sorry, I meant he is an idiot, and you need to get over him! There are plenty of eligible guys on campus who you could date!"

"Even though my girlfriend is being is harsh, she is right, Tink. It's been so long, and you'll kill yourself over this if you keep this up."

"Ugh, I know! Do you think I'm a masochist or something? I hate to break it to you, but I do not enjoy this. I hate it. I hate that he is the one I think about every day when I wake up. I hate it when I go to sleep; he is the last person on my mind. He takes over my thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it!" You shove a fry into your mouth so you can take a breather.

"What if we found you a new guy? Someone to take your mind off Eddie?" Nancy perked up at her idea.

You heard the diner doorbells chime from behind you.

"I don't know..." Putting all your time and energy into someone new seemed like a lot of emotional work you wanted to avoid going through.

"Yes! Oh my god, Tink, you have to. It's the only way you'll get over him!"

"Get over who?" The silky, sweet voice of a male came from behind you.

You and the girls froze as Eddie, your brother, and a few other guys approached the table.

"No one." You mumbled, trying to fight off the blood rushing across your chest and cheeks.

"You can tell us, Tink! Who are we fighting?" Eddie laughed.

"Tink? What kind of stupid name is that?" one of Adam's jerk friends spoke.

"Excuse me?" you turn to see the guy you've never met.

You heard Adam burst out laughing with the rest of them, but not Eddie.

"Hey man, not cool!" Eddie stood up for you.

And there went the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie was always your protector. Even as kids, when Adam picked on you, he always stood up for you. Even if you weren't around, Eddie always put Adam in his place when it came to you.

You saw, out of the corner of your eye, Eddie shifted his weight down so he could sit beside you. Then, you felt a protective arm wrap around your shoulder.

Fuck. This shit right here is why you can never get over Eddie Munson.

You dared to look up; there he was in all his glory. The way the fluorescent light from above had cast down on him made him look like an angel. He smiled at you, but not before you noticed the dishevelled sex hair he tried to fix and the small amount of pink lipstick that stained the skin on his neck that he didn't quite get off. And the smell… sickly sweet perfume that was definitely not his signature musk.

You quickly turn your head back to your plate because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested…

"You, if you don't leave us alone." Robin piped up. She saw the look of pure disappointment in your eyes. You didn't need Eddie to rub in the fact that he hooked up with someone, especially since now he is smelling like a cheap hooker.

Robin and Nancy thought it was incredibly rude of your brother to flaunt Eddie in front of you like this. Of course, he knew your mega super infinity crush on his best friend. Yet here he is with his drunk-ass buddies, antagonizing you about the guy you needed to get over.

"Woah, Birdie, take it easy; we are just saying hello," Adam chimed in.

“You said hello at the party. Now leave!” You gritted through your teeth.

“You were at the party?” Eddie asked. His voice hitched high. High enough, it was embarrassingly so. Thankfully, his friends were too drunk and hungry to realize. A deep blush crossed his face when he saw you noticed the tone in his voice change. You just have a slight nod and continue to play with the food on your plate.

That’s why you were so dressed up. Eddie thought you looked so pretty, too pretty to be sad about some looser in a diner at one in the morning.

"Do we have a problem here?" A voice none of you recognized came from the booth beside you.

You all look over and see a cute guy with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing your school's rugby jersey. He was so not your type, but you can still admire beauty for what it is. He was a jock; that was clear as he stood up. He was big, more significant than your brother and Eddie, that's for sure.

"Nah, man, it's cool. This is my little sister and her friends." Adam slurs. Clearly, he had more shots since he left you to find Cory.

"I don't care who you are. You're clearly bothering them."

"It's okay, they were just leaving," Nancy said confidently.

"Whatever, let's go, guys," Adam commanded the pac, but Eddie lingered. He didn't like this blondie guy. He didn't like the way he was looking at you.

"Ed, come on!'

Eddie got up and slowly made his way to his friends.

"I'm Jesse," Eddie heard the musclehead speak, and he cringed internally. Something wasn't right. The feelings of anger and protectiveness were filling his mind.

Eddie looked back again and saw you smelling at the stranger as he reached out to shake your hand before sitting beside you.

What kind of freak is alone in a diner at 1:15 am? Eddie thought.

But it didn't seem to phase you or the girls; you were all blinded by his shiny hair and pearly white smile.

Eddie walked out and felt like he wanted to punch something. He needed to get away. He needed to know what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you the one causing him distress? You were just Tink? Or so Eddie thought.

Jesse turned out to be really cool. You exchanged numbers, and he asked you to go to the movies next Friday. You hadn’t been on a date in forever; you had been so hung up on Eddie that any other guy seemed uninteresting. But this time, you were determined that Jesse would be the one to break the cycle. He was much different than you’re generally into, but you have some of the same interests, like movies and music, so you thought you’d go for it.

Jesse picked you up, bought the tickets, and insisted on buying the snacks and drinks. He held your hand and then slowly made his way to wrap his arm around your shoulder. It gave you butterflies you hadn’t felt from anyone else. Before you knew it, you willingly leaned in to make out with him in the back of the theatre.

You were so focused on Jesse that you didn’t notice Eddie was also on a date in the same theatre. But Eddie noticed you. He was seething the whole time. He didn’t pay any attention to his date or the movie. He hogged the popcorn and munched away as he watched you giggle and flirt with the blockhead jock. Eddie didn’t care that he had pissed off his date. He hardly said two words to her when they parted ways, not even offering to drive her home.

He didn’t want to go out with her but had hooked up with her at the party and felt terrible about it then. Now, he can’t even remember her name or why he went upstairs with her in the first place.

You were there, at the party, but he didn’t see you. Now he sees you everywhere, and it’s pissing him off. Why were you on his mind all of the time? For the past week, why have his dreams been consumed by you and you alone? Why did he want to hold you, be with you, talk to you, dare he say… kiss you? You were Adam’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. You were a late bloomer, but boy, did you bloom.

Eddie hated how the blonde meathead’s hand rested too low on your back. His hands grazed your skirt a little too closely. Eddie wanted to jump the guy, but he couldn’t. He was twice his size. He would be pulverized, and that would be mortifying in front of you. You wouldn’t want him like that anyway, even if he did win in a fight over you!

What the fuck was Eddie thinking? He wasn't… that's the problem. He's now thinking about getting into a physical altercation over you. He isn't able to sleep now without thinking about you. He needed to get his head on straight and quit fucking around. He hoped that if he just focused on the cars at work, this little thing would go away on its own. Maybe he can't remember that he had slipped and hit his head? Yeah, that's it. He hit his head, and now his brain is just confused. He didn't like you like that! This will all go away by tomorrow.

Wrong.

Eddie was plagued with thoughts of you. He caught himself in numerous daydreams about you while doing mindless tuneups and tire changes at the shop. It was getting out of hand; it’s been another week, and he still can’t get you off his mind… Eddie needed to be proactive. The guys were starting to give him shit about it too. They knew he was focused on a girl. They could sense it.

There was another party tonight that Adam mentioned. He will go home and get cleaned up. Then he will go to the party, he will find a nice pretty girl who will let him bury himself inside her, to forget about his thoughts of splitting your open with his cock, and this will all be over.

You walked into the party hand in hand with Jesse. He was starting to make waves in your life, being only two weeks, but still. He would walk you to your classes and help you study in the library. He would walk you home and kiss you goodbye like the perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried making any advances as of yet. The two of you had only made it to first base. Maybe tonight you would get lucky? You felt ready.

“You want something to drink?” Jesse guided you to the kitchen.

The house was hot and sticky; you were worried about your hair getting frizzy. You worked so hard on it to look good for Jesse. He even complimented it when he picked you up. Forever the gentleman.

“Whatever they have is good.” You smiled up at him.

As the two of you walked into the packed kitchen, you tried to squeeze your way around but got stuck in the crowd. It was much easier for Jesse to get by just with his size alone.

“Excuse me,” you repeated three times, but no one was budging.

“You should be a little bit more assertive,” the voice behind you said. It sent a shiver down your spine.

As you turned, you saw Eddie smirking down at you. He was drunk. You could see that and smell it.

“Hi, Eddie.” You smiled meekly before you felt the weight of Jesse’s arm wrap around you, passing you your drink.

“There you are,” Jesse smiled. "Who's this?"

"That's just Eddie...Eddie, Jesse. Jesse, Eddie." You introduced awkwardly.

Just Eddie. The words stung.

"How do the two of you know each other?" Jesse gestures between the two of you.

"Brothers best friend." You smile.

"That's all I am to you? You wound me, Tink."

The fuck was that supposed to mean?

"Eddie, man! I got us two hotties over by the pool. Let's go!" In comes your obnoxious brother with perfect timing, as always.

"I guess I'll see you around." Eddie sighed.

"Nice meeting you, man." Jesse stuck out his hand.

"Whatever." Eddie brushed him off and left with Adam.

"I'm sorry about him. That was very rude. I don't?- He's usually not like that?"

"It's okay; I can tell a jealous guy when I see one." Jesse shrugged.

You almost spat out your drink. "Jealous?!"

"Oh, it's clear as day, honey."

"No... there is no way. He's never and will never like me... like that." It broke your heart to say that out loud. Your chest felt so heavy as the words came out of your mouth.

As the rest of the night went on, you and Eddie tried avoiding one another like the plague. Those words about him being jealous were swimming around in your head for most of the night, and Eddie was trying to avoid his feelings by being with another girl, but not one stood out to him.

Adam tried getting lucky but struck out when Eddie refused to go with the friend.

"What the fuck is your problem, man? She was like a solid eight out of ten."

"I wasn't into it..." Eddie's eyes found you, and he couldn't break his gaze. You were curled up in the blockhead's lap, sitting by the fire pit, all cozy and giggly. What he would give to have you in his arms like that.

"Oh fuck, not you now." Adam groaned in frustration, seeing where Eddie's googly eyes were directed.

"Huh?" Eddie said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.

"You can't be serious?! That's my little sister, dude; come on!" Adam was always one for the dramatics; that's why he and Edie got on so well.

"Woah, man, I never said anything about your sister."

"Well, it sure is clear by the way you're making heart eyes at her."

"Yeah, right," Eddie scoffed.

"Trust me, dude, it's that same way she looks at you." Adman shook his head. He thought he would be clear of this. That this would never happen, and yet here it is, happening.

"Wait, what? What do you mean?-"

"She's been in love with you since she was twelve... come one like you didn't know?"

"No way, you smoked too much tonight, so something? Maybe my stuff is off?"

"She likes you, dude. Never fucking shuts up about you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't think it was relevant... I was never going to allow her to be with you! You serious? It's Tink, she's so...ew. You're so above that."

"She's not new," Eddie snapped. He hated how hard Adam had always been on you.

"Whatever, man, too late now. About time she has moved on."

Eddie stood up and walked out of the party without a word. He heard Adam call out, but he ignored him completely. He needed to process what Adam told him. He needed to sober up so he could think clearly. He needed to either make you his or find a way to get over you... and fast.

That night of the party, you didn't end up getting lucky. You tried making advances, but you inevitably were shot down. He said he didn't want your first time to be when you both had been drinking and in some random bathroom. So you accepted it, even though your horny gremlin was starting to come back to life. But what did happen was he asked you to make it official with him, and you said yes!

Tonight, you had to leave the apartment for your roommate's sake. It was their anniversary, and you told them you could have the place to themselves for a romantic evening. When you told Jesse, your new boyfriend, you needed a place to crash, he offered you his bed. You would go to your classes and then return to his for your first sleeepover as a couple. You were so excited!

Jesse ended class at one in the afternoon that day, and you ended at five, so it worked out perfectly. Luckily enough for you, your professor for your last lecture was ill, so they cancelled class that day. You thought it would be fun to surprise him by showing up early.

When you got to his house, his roommate let you in and said he was in his room with his friend Connor. So when you knocked on the door and walked in a few seconds later, you did not expect to see the two men in bed, naked...

You screamed and covered your eyes, absolutely mortified that you had walked in on them. You were so unbelievably hurt that you had been deceived. Why would he ask you to be exclusive if he was sleeping around?! And on the night when you thought you would get to have sex with your new boyfriend.

You did not give Jesse any time to explain himself as he tried to get out of the tangled sheets and arms of the other man. You heard your name being called out, but you ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

Tears stung your cheeks as the cold autumn air began to settle in. The rumble of the dark clouds was also looking quite ominous.

Just your luck. Of course, you would find your boyfriend in the arms of another man, and of course, the universe would make you walk him in the rain. How poetic.

A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and that's when the rain came down in buckets. At least it could cover up your tears. You continued walking, but you couldn't think of a place to go? You could not ruin your roommate's night. There is no way Adam would let you stay in his frat house, not that you would want to anyway, and your friends from the class went home for the weekend. Shit... maybe you could spend the majority of the night in the diner and then just walk home really late once they were defiantly sleeping. But your clothes were soaked and---

“Tink, what’s wrong?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by none other than the man who was the cause of this whole mess.

Eddie rolled down the work van window. He was covered in motor oil and dirty from working all day. His muscles ached, and he badly needed a hot shower, but now all he could focus on was you and why you were upset.

“Leave me alone, Eddie.” He hadn’t ever heard you speak to him like this?

“Tink, come on, it’s a literal thunder storm. Let me take you home.”

“Can’t, girls are having date night… told them to have the place to themselves.” You continued to walk as the chill from the rain was beginning to seep through to your bones. Your teeth betray you as the chatter starts.

“Where were you supposed to be right now?”

“None of your business!”

“Tink, don’t make me pull over!”

“Screw you, Eddie!”

“That’s it.” Eddie parked the car and got out. “You’re coming with me.” Eddie picked you up over his shoulder, and you let out a screech.

“Eddie! Put me down, you caveman!” You screamed. If anyone saw you, it looked like you were being kidnapped and taken into a murder van.

“No, can do Tink. I’m taking you home to warm you up. Then you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He commanded. And if you weren’t so mad, you’d say you were a little turned on by his voice.

You hear the car door open before he plops you into the passenger seat.

“Get in” he points to your legs hanging out of the car.

“Make me.” you shiver.

“You’re being such a child! Let me help you.”

“Fine!” You swing your legs into the van, and Eddie slams the door closed, making you wince.

The car ride was quiet besides the radio and your chattering teeth. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but it was of no help. Your t-shirt and jeans clung to you like a second skin, and the car heater was only blowing cool air. You swore you thought your nipples could cut glass.

Eddie said nothing as he tugged you over on the bench seat and wrapped a warm arm around you. You broke out into another chill, but this time, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or from Eddie.

Even though Eddie was self-conscious of smelling like motor oil and body odour, he was more worried about you catching hypothermia.

Once you were inside Eddie's warm apartment, he noticed how your body was on display. You would be the clear winner if you were in a wet t-shirt contest, that's for sure. Eddi's eyes were wide with desire, but he returned to reality when you asked if you could use his shower to warm up.

Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he thought about you being naked in his shower.

"Uh, you mind if I borrow a towel and some dry clothes? I have mine, but they got soaked through my overnight bag..."

"Yeah! Uh- I mean, sure, yeah, whatever..."

You blushed slightly at Eddie, trying to play it cool. He ran to his bedroom and returned with a handful of different fabrics. You took them and then headed into the bathroom.

The hot water defrosted your bones, and when you stepped into Eddie's clothes, his sent hit you like a tidal wave. You brought the old black corroded coffin band tee that he had from high school up to your nose and inhaled deeply. You felt immediate comfort being here, with Eddie, wearing his clothes.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in the towel, Eddie couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.

"Not a word," you warn.

Eddie mock zipped his lips, then gestured to the couch for you to sit beside him.

"Sorry about being a pain earlier; you caught me at a really, really bad time."

"It's okay, Tink, you're here with me now; that's all that matters." Eddie let the towel around your head fall back so he could see your natural hair. "You wanna tell me what happened? I've never seen you so upset."

"You shook your head no, "It's too embarrassing."

"Come on, it's me we are talking about here."

You paused for a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out on the table... how much worse could it get, right?

“You remember Jesse, right?” Eddie could feel his fist tightening, but he said nothing while nodding his head with a tight lip. What the fuck did he do to you? “Well, he asked me to be his girlfriends no less than a week ago, and I was supposed to spend the night at his place… but I went over early and found him in bed with… someone.” Eddie went to say something but realized you weren’t finished and let you continue.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?! I finally get a boyfriend, and the moment I want to actually sleep with someone who isn’t you, they are in the arms of someone else! Am I really that undesirable?! I was practically throwing myself at him, and it turns out he was fucking his “friend” the whole time.”

You had missed your slip-up, but Eddie hadn't. Eddie didn’t hear anything after “I want to sleep with someone who isn’t you,”

So Adam was right…

“Eddie? Eddddiiieee?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to try and get back his attention.

Great, so now you’re undesirable AND boring.

“Sorry what?”

“Forget it… you don’t wanna hear about my pitty party. I’ll call a cab and head back to… oh shit, I can’t even go home!”

“Stay here.”

“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Yes. Stay. Take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”

“Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, Tink?” He brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, and those pesky butterflies erupted within your core.

“Because…” because I’m in love with you and don’t know if I can hold back my feelings any longer.

“Exactly, you can’t come up with one. Let me take care of you.” Eddie’s voice dropped an octave.

A chill travelled down your spine. His touch is electric. Any time you’re with Eddie, your body feels like it’s been recharged.

As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, this undeniable magnetic pull connects you. Was he leaning in? Or were you? Maybe it was the both of you? There was little to no space between you. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, alone with Eddie in his apartment.

“I should get cleaned up,” Eddie whispered. He was so close you could taste the spearmint Nicorette gum he had been chewing. It took everything in his power to pull away. He wanted to kiss you so very badly, but he got a whiff of himself, and he needed to wash up. I would be unfair to you.

“Oh, okay,” you breathed in, and Eddie slid back.

“You can make yourself at home, okay? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Eddie was freaking out in the shower, and you were freaking out in the kitchen. While Eddie scrubbed his skin so hard he thought he would scrub it off completely, you went to the fridge to find anything to help calm your nerves.

There wasn’t anything in the fridge, but the freezer, on the other hand... Bingo. You poured yourself a shot of vodka and almost threw up, but you held it together with a chaser of orange juice. You took one more for good measure and then made your way back to the couch. As you waited for your liquid courage to kick in, you flicked around on the TV but didn’t really pay much attention. Your thoughts were swimming with questions and possible scenarios that could play out this evening.

You were taken away from your inner thoughts when Eddie exited the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You tried not to make it obvious, but the alcohol clouded your awareness of your face.

“Sorry, I left my clothes in the bedroom” he saw you eye fucking him and gave a little smirk.

“It’s okay. Totally okay.” you sighed.

The sight of his wet, bare torso makes your heart race, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his nipples perked, and his hair soaked yet still so sexy. Your stomach simultaneously flip-flopped. And as for your pussy… well, she got a little excited at the heavenly sight in front of you.

“Yeah,” You wanna see more, Tink? Eddie thought to himself.

“Yeah.” You sighed before he disappeared into his bedroom.

Minutes later, Eddie returned, and the two of you acted as if nothing happened. Neither of you willing to break the tension first. So you both sat silently, watching some random TV movie while you prayed to come up with something to discuss. You wanted to talk so badly with him.

“This couch is pretty lumpy; it wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on it.” You felt terrible that he offered his bed. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Nope. No way.” Eddie shook his head.

“Eddie.” You huffed.

“Tink,” he mocked back.

“You need a good sleep! You work a strenuous job…And my back can take it.”

I bet your back could take it, Eddie thought.

“You calling me old, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart, your stomach did a flip-flop again.

“No.” You snicker at his accusation.

“I don’t think I believe you” Eddie’s tone dropped again.

“Well, I’m not letting up”

“Neither am I; you’re sleeping in my bed whether I’m on it or not.

“Oh...”

“Yeah, oh.” Eddie sat back and the both of you finished the movie in silence.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but Eddie shook your shoulder awake.

“Come on Tinkerbell we are going to bed.” You think you hear Eddie whisper.

Were you dreaming? Did Eddie just tell you the two of you were going to bed?

“Mmm?”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, remember? Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”

“Okay, Eddie, “ you agreed in your sleepy haze.

You feel his arm wrap under yours as he helps you off the couch.

“There you go.” Eddie coos as he places you down gently.

The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re suddenly wide awake. You’re in Eddie’s bed. Eddie is getting in next to you.

“Figured we would compromise.” He slid next to you but over the covers with a throw blanket.

“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part.

“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part. “You seem to always be there for me…” you turn to your side to face Eddie.

“I’ll always be there for you, Tink, whether you like it or not…” Eddie also turns so he is facing you.

“Eddie.” Your breath hitched.

“Yes Tink.”

Fuck are you really going to spill your guts to him here and now?

“I… I wanna-need to tell you something.” You close your eyes, not daring to look at him.

“I think I might have an idea.”

“You-what?” Eyes still closed

You feel the bed shift and feel Eddie's warm breath fan your lips.

“Do you trust me?” Eddie whispered.

You aren’t brave enough to speak. So you tentatively nod your head yes.

“Do you trust me, Tink? I need you to say it.” He asked once more.

You slowly opened your eyes and bravely opened your mouth. “Yes, Ed’s, I trust you.”

A slight smile graces Eddie’s before you watch him lean in with a pucker.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment his lips touched yours.

Holy shit.

Eddie Munson was kissing you. Eddie Munson, your older brother's best friend, who you’ve been in love with for seven years, is now kissing you… in his bed… late at night… with no one else around. It was like fireworks were going off. It was everything you ever wanted and more.

It was all you had ever dreamed of, and now he was blowing your expectations out of the water. You had to have more. You needed this to last forever.

Your hands moved up to cup his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, contrasting his soft plush lips. Eddie shifted closer to you. You could feel his body through the thick blankets that separated the two of you, but you wanted to be closer to him. You threw the blankets and all caution to the wind when you shifted to wrap your legs around him.

Eddie rolled so he was on top of you. To your surprise, you felt his firm cock pressed to your thigh, which made you moan softly.

“Fucking hell, Tink”

“Eddie, please, I need you.”

“Didn’t take you long to beg,” he chuckled darkly.

“Well, it took you long enough to see me.”

Eddie gazed into your eyes like he was looking at you for the first time. Like really seeing you. He muttered your name, your real name, for the first time, and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face before you strained your neck to take his lips once more.

Eddie’s strong hands grazed your waist and settled on your hips, pinning you down to the mattress. His weight is entirely on you now. Your knees hitched up, and you opened your hips more to give him more room.

“Eddie,” you gasped into his mouth. Eddie ground his hips into yours, and you let out another soft moan.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You, it’s always been you.” You confessed.

Eddie didn’t say anything in reply but instead worked his fingers to the waistband of his sweatpants that you dawned.

“This okay?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you rushed. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

“Don’t be mean,” You shove the pants off your ankles and go for your shirt.

“Wait… let me.” Eddie sat up so you could as well. His hands brushed the hem and slowly pulled the shirt he let you borrow off of you.

He took in your naked frame in front of him.

Shit, you weren’t wearing your panties this whole time? They must have been soaked as well from the rain. Eddie thought.

Eddie saw you shy away as you sat there naked in front of the boy you loved as he took you all in.

It didn’t take long before Eddie’s hands roamed your skin, finding your breasts.

“You’re so soft.” Eddie moaned into your neck as he took in the fact that you now smelled like him. He sent all over you; he was feral. He needed to claim you as his own. How could he be so blind all these years? You were perfect; you were everything he ever wanted.

“Do you like soft?”

“Very much so.”

Eddie melted into you once more as he travelled down your body, kissing and nipping at every inch. You softly moaned when he flicked your nipples with his tongue, and you really moaned when he reached your wet pussy.

How Eddie loved the noises he was pulling from you. He would do anything to make you sing for him.

“You like that baby? You want me to touch you… here?” His index finger grazed your wet slit.

“Yes” you replied quickly, a little too quickly.

“Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”

You giggled, but it was cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips grazing your clit.

You’d daydreamed countless times about how his fingers would feel while you watched him while he and your brother jammed in your garage.

He circled your clit before dipping his head down to kiss your lower lips. Reality hit you once again. Eddie was eating you out. Eddie was eating you out like a man starved, in fact. How was he so good at this? Scratch that you didn’t want to know. Your thoughts slowed down as Eddie’s thick fingers entered your wet hole.

“Eddie!” You yelled with pleasure.

“Oh yes, sweetheart, say my name.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you replayed like a mantra.

As his fingers grazed that spot that only you managed to find when you were alone in your bed, exploring your body. You fell apart in his hands.

“Your pussy grips me so good, god I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Please, Eddie,” you begged in your blissed-out daze.

“Let me hear it again,” he smirked.

“I need you, please. I want your cock so badly."

“Mmmmmm, as you wish.” he pulled back so he could strip. You watched as his tight muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt, then scrunched as he bent over to take off his bottoms.

His cock sprung out of their confines, and your breath hitched for what you thought was at least the fourth time that night.

You’ve imagined what it would look like, but none of the times ever did you imagine he was this hung. No wonder he was so confident and cocky around women. It was long, thick, and straight. No curvatures, just pure rod.

“I don’t think that’s going to fit,” you blurt out, not thinking.

“Don’t worry, Baby. It’ll fit.” he slunk back down on you, peppering your lips with more sensual kisses. His fingers travelled down to your pussy, stretching you out again, only this time, he used 3 fingers to make sure you were nice and ready.

“Please, I’m ready” You ground your pussy into Eddie’s hand.

Eddie reached over into his drawer, pulled out a condom, and slipped it over his shaft as quickly as possible. Seemed that he was just as eager as you.

Eddie kissed you hard as his cock slipped past your wet folds and inside, splitting you open. The wonderful burn of his cock burying itself inside of you. What could you say? It had been a while, and Eddie was the biggest you’ve ever had.

“Slowly,” you guided Eddie as he rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust.

“God, you’re so tight”

“Mmmphmm”

“Your noises are so pretty.” Eddie tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.

Eddie took your breath away as he looked into your eyes. He was being so soft and gentle with you as if you could break.

“Eddie, please.”

“I got you, Princess”

Eddie rocked his hips with more emphasis; his body was moulding into yours. As his cock grazed your tight walls, you felt your body was brought to life.

“Oh fuck” your words slipped, not even realizing you were speaking.

“Come’on baby, let me hear you”

“You’re making me feel so good, Eddie!”

“More, tell me who you belong to.”

“ You! always been you, Eddie, please, I wanna come. Please make me cum on your cock.”

“Good girl. You’re being so good, f’me” Eddie's hips slapped into the backs of your thighs, and he plummeted into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

Eddie grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them back to your shoulders, only making the angle more delicious as he fucked you. He watched as his cock disappeared into your wanton pussy. He watched as you clenched down on his cock, and he almost lost it as he tried not to cum right then and there.

“Fuck me, Tink! Your pussy is too good,” he gritted through his teeth, trying to keep the pace without blowing his load.

“Eddie!” Your body was on fire as his cock continuously hit your g spot. Your lower belly tingled as the feeling of your orgasm built up again.

“You close, baby?”

“Yes”

“Cum for me.”

“More, I need more.”

Eddie slipped his hand between you and gently circled your clit once again.

You moan, cockdrunk as your body begins to spasm around Eddie’s cock.

“Yes, that’s it, come on baby. Keep cuming. That’s my girl.”

Your eyes roll back into your head, and you clamp your jaw. Every muscle tightens and clenches as your second orgasm rips through you.

“Good girl. Good fuckin girl.” Eddie praises as he empties himself into the condom.

After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath and Eddie discarding the used condom, you break the silence.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Adam is going to kill me,” Eddie laughed.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to get him back. You roll over to snuggle in his arms.

“And to think you were supposed to be in another man’s bed tonight.” Eddie hated that idea.

“At least I ended up in the right man’s bed.”

Tagging those who seemed interested: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow @itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson angst #older brothers best friend x reader #request #TJ’s mailbox #jealous!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munons x angst #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x f!reader

[luvrxbunny]

black oak

Pairing: Perv?BSF!Eddie Munson x Innocent!Fem!Reader 

Prompt: Voyeurism

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smoking (weed ofc),m! masturbation, f! masturbation, pillow humping, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.6k

A/N: im cutting it so close w these fics (i made this literally yesterday)

This started happening more recently now that you’re hanging out with Eddie more. You hang out with him after school and he walks you home, but whenever he leaves there's a consuming heat between your legs. It’s more tame when you’re with him, like a subtle hum in the back of your mind but once he leaves you; your mind hyper-fixates on him. 

You’re trying to sleep but Eddie is in your head. You writhe around in your bed as you think about everything he is; brave, kind, caring, and sweet. You think about his hands, his hair, his rings, and his voice. You wiggle around in bed until your pillow makes its way between your thighs. Your hips stutter against it and you freeze, looking around the room as if someone may be watching you before letting yourself succumb to the pleasure of the fabric against your slit.

You tighten your thighs around the pillow, tilting your hips up to press your most sensitive spot against the pillow. You mutter timid curses under your breath, hugging your teddy bear to your chest with your eyes shut tight as you picture his face reluctantly. You always feel so dirty picturing him like this, thinking of him in this way. You can’t help but replay all the times you’ve seen him lick his lips, his pink, wet, tongue peeking from between them, the way he bites into the bottom one when trying to nail a certain chord. You can feel yourself getting even wetter between your legs, whining as you soak your pillow. It’s not enough. 

You whine as you push yourself into a sitting position, straddling the pillow with a curve in your back to press yourself perfectly into it. Your head falls back at the stimulation and your eyelids flutter, you slowly roll your head forward and notice your drapes and window slightly open. You consider closing them, not wanting anyone to see, to hear but you feel a certain rush in your stomach at the exposure and shyly decide to leave them be. 

Outside your window, is Eddie. He does this almost every night, this is the first time he’s seen this though. He walks you home after you hang out with him, and if the hangout has left something to be desired he simply climbs into his tree and watches you. There is this beautiful black oak tree that sits outside your window. If Eddie wanted more of you, but couldn’t hang out with you more- due to your very strict parent’s ruling- he suffered silently. He asked you if you could stay longer one time; the sad look in your eyes as you explained how upset your parents would be, broke his heart, so he never asked again. 

However, when you showed him the pretty tree beside your bedroom, right outside your bedroom window- there was only one thought in his head. So it became a routine, if he didn’t have plans, and remembered to bring a lighter with his joint. He’ll light up and just sit on his branch outside your window. He usually witnesses you doing your school work, writing in your diary, and talking with your stuffed animals. If he’s lucky you’ll change your clothes there, although the way you change actually lets him see nothing. Tonight? He can’t believe his eyes.

His joint has long gone out, still in between his fingers as the bulge grows in his pants and his eyes bulge out at you. He’s fighting an internal battle, his hands are twitching to touch himself but he feels guilty intruding on such a private moment. He’s thought about you in this way before- he tries not to but mostly just cannot help himself. You’re so sweet, so caring toward him, so loving that he can’t help but feel this way for you. When you sit on his bed in your skirt, forgetting to tuck it under your butt- your panties pressed right into his bed… he’s hard in an instant. He’s thought of you while jerking off more times than he could count but in all his creativity he could’ve never imagined himself in a scenario as lucky as this. 

He quickly puts the joint in his pocket and fumbles with his pants. He’s whining to no one as he undoes his belt. “Keep goin’, sweetheart. Ooh, so good, baby.” He shoves his hand into his underwear, quickly wrapping his fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you. He’s already thrusting his hips into his fist as he watches you reach blindly for something to hug into your chest as your hips speed up. Eddie’s hand kicks up to match your pace and a moan rips itself from his throat. He watches you bite into your lip and your eyebrows twitch before you mutter something he wishes he could hear. 

He zeros in on your hips, the way they move over your pillow, how desperately he wishes that was him. He pulls his hand away from his cock with a groan and rubs himself through his jeans. It’s less stimulating but it lets him pretend that it’s you and that makes it feel better than his hands ever could. His eyes roll back into his head as his hands find the same rhythm as your hips and he moans your name into the night air. He’s not worried about being caught, he can only think of you. He forces his eyes open to watch as your hips begin to stutter in their pace. He lets out a pained moan, wishing he could help you keep it steady, help you cum as fast, and as hard as you could. 

You’re muttering something again, your volume climbing as you near your peak. Eddie’s legs are shaking as he holds off for you, wanting to cum at the same time. He watches you drop your teddy and place your hands on the pillow, holding it in place as you furrow your brows and grind harder, humping your pillow as your lips part into an ‘O’ shape. His stomach tenses painfully as he moans your name to no one, under his breath, just for him as he imagines you above him. The utterance of your name from his lips just brings him closer to the edge as he begins to hear a muffled translation of what your moans sound like. He shuffles himself a bit closer to your window, trying to hear as much of you as he can. He hears you saying something, a name, one he prays is his because he couldn’t handle the heartbreak of hearing someone else’s fall from your lips at a time like this. 

He thinks about what you’d sound like saying his name as a moan, a groan, or even a whine or whimper if he’s lucky. He tries to fit his name into the blurry shape of whatever sound is falling from your mouth and it fits brutally well. He has to take his hands away, thrusting up into the air blindly, eyes rolled back and shut as your noises assault his senses. He can’t believe how well his name fits in your mouth, like your lips were made to form around it. “Eddie.” He can hear it, you’d say it high and breathy, on the cusp of cumming all over him, all around him, however you want. “Ed- Eddie” His eyes snap open to watch your lips as they form over his name again, “Eddie, please!” Your voice kicks up into a whine and your hips stutter to a stop as you fold over, shaking as you cum all over your pillow. 

Eddie is painting the inside of his jeans, his hips thrusting erratically into his hand as he bites his lip so hard he’s scared he’ll take a chunk out of it. Your name and images of you are racing through his head, they do every time he cums, he just can’t help it anymore. He thinks about how you said his name, how it sounded from your lips… the fact that you’re thinking of him when you hump your pillow at night. 

A strangled groan-whimper shoves its way from his chest as his balls tighten even more, producing as much cum as they can for you. His head slams back against the tree painfully and his eyes cross as he worships you in his mind, thanking you for making him cum, for letting him touch himself for you. His eyes open back up slowly, his hand overstimulating himself gently as you slowly overstimulate yourself, rocking your hips lazily over the pillow, your thighs twitching every so often. He watches you topple over onto your bed, leaving the pillow between your legs as you reach out for a different teddy, a smile spreading over your face when you find what you’re looking for. 

He’s watching you through lidded eyes, his hips still twitching slightly. His brows furrow until he sees what you’re after, his heart swells and warms his chest. It’s a teddy bear he won for you at a fair, he’s wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, you said he reminded you of Eddie. 

He feels that little tingle he gets in his nose he gets when he’s about to cry and he tries his best to hold back as he starts climbing out of the tree, he always turns into a sap when he cums for you. He’s always wishing you loved him the way he loves you but for the first time, these tears are more positive. He peeks up at you one more time before dropping out of the tree and he gets to see you kiss ‘little Eddie’ on his head and snuggle him to your chest. He’s starting to actually think he may have a chance with you, and it’s the best feeling in the world. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie munson

[lavhoes]

STRANGER THINGS SMUT RECS

none of these works are mine, credit to the writers.

note, writers if you don’t want your work on here please message me and I will take it off!

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

love on you by @sinclaiirs

steve jerks off to a photo of you by @sinclaiirs

movie night, ft billy by @evergreencowboy

take your sit by @strawberrysodaslut

touch me, pt3 by @poeticandors

lovergirl by @deepett

angel eyes by @deepett

reader squirts for the first time by @constillatedchaos

pancakes for two by @the-archxr

I'll be the judge, ft robin by @luvfae

wet dreams by @sinclaiirs

like a pornstar by @sharpsapphic666

stop the world (i wanna get off with you) by @pixiehollands

as you dreamt it would be by @luvfae

like a perv, ft eddie by @fanofmanystuff

just like in the movies by @the-archxr

give it a try by @makeadealwithdean

𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

reader x injured!eddie munson by @jamespotters-realwife

hot and bothered by @bunnyhoney111

selfish!eddie by @evergreeneddie

desperate eddie by @evergreeneddie

study sesh by @bumblingbribee

finding out eddie has a mommy kink by @subbypeterparker

voyeurism, ft steve by @hxneybimbo

missed you by @munsonussy

the devil wears eyeliner by @sinnerlillith

pink is metal by @sinnerlillith

fountain by @eddiemunsonswhxre

distracting by @notrattus

I look at you and my blood runs hot by @letterstotheflre

nuisance by @eddiemunsonswhxre

symphony by @garden-of-eddie

under the bleachers by @latenightsimping

birthday girl, ft steve by @eratolasting

she’s the devil in disguise by @letterstotheflre



𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

reaction to calling them daddy in bed by @hellfirexclub

making out with jonathan/steve by @pnkstarss

take in by @mollyville (jonathan byers)

what happens in the dark room by @reidsrevenge (jonathan byers)

stays in the dark room by @reidsrevenge (jonathan byers)

perv jonathan x cheerleader bsf by @pnkstarss (jonathan byers)

take you like a drug (jonathan byers, m reader, ao3)

goad by @hoosurdaddy (jancy x reader)

the upside by @honeybadgerwritings (henry creel)

taken care of by @droopycoquette (henry creel)

good girl by @666eddie (billy hargrove)

object of my desire by @skyebounded (robin buckley)

part two

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers smut #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #henry creel smut #vecna x reader #henry creel #001 smut #robin buckley smut #robin buckley #stranger things smut #stranger things #fic rec #x female reader #joe keery #joseph quinn #charlie heaton #stranger things cast #stranger things 4 #joe quinn #stranger things x reader #jamie campbell bower

[blueywrites]

turtle dove and the crow, part four

A 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader

story tags: 18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending.

chapter tags: please heed this warning and decide if you are prepared to read this chapter, which includes scenes of harsh but period-accurate parental abuse against an 18-year old child. this includes emotional and mental abuse in the form of 'discipline' and depictions of physical punishment. these methods are always harmful and never appropriate. they do not represent the views of the author. avoiding tw/cw's? read the part four summary instead

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | part six | epilogue | playlist

PART FOUR: THE WEIGHT BENEATH THE SUN (8.6K)

It’s hard to make the moment last

Hard to keep the dreams you have

Hard to let the love inside your heart

The guards are always at the gates

Turning everyone away

But you got through

Didn’t you?

You’re the One I Want — Chris and Thomas

When you were six— two years before Edward Munson became the new boy next door— your mother still hosted garden parties during the warm months. Pa would arrange the iron furniture into a pleasing configuration, ensuring the grass was level and dry beneath the table's heavy feet. The stiff-backed chairs would be spaced precisely from its wrought edges, far enough for ease of entry but close enough that the ladies would not have to stretch their arms too far to reach the cucumber sandwiches. Those Mama would assemble in careful layers, laying them out on a ceramic platter decorated with filigree. Mama's finest pitcher, made of delicate glass and attractive curves, would be used to serve fresh-squeezed lemonade. She'd garnish the sweet drink with muddled mint leaves plucked from the small personal garden she carefully maintains against the backyard fence. A generous spray of flowers would finish the trio of treasures awaiting the town's ladies, invited by your mother for an afternoon of light refreshments and genteel socializing.

Your sister, Virginia, has the supreme honor of being allowed to join the garden party for the first time this year. She is five years your senior in age and ten your superior in manner, evident in the graceful way she smooths the skirt of her shiny pink dress, perching herself with impeccable posture on the very edge of the iron chair situated to your mother’s right side. Poised and prim, Virginia accepts a glass of lemonade, taking a tiny sip before placing the china delicately to the right of her plate. Ever observant, her eyes dart around the table, absorbing gestures with ease; she follows her sip quickly with a dab of her napkin before arranging it dutifully on her lap again. She is rewarded for this, as the ladies generously indulge her presence among them.

You would be jealous of your sister's invitation if you gave a hoot about such things, but you are entirely disinterested in all of it. You care not for hushed titters floating from beneath their sunbonnets and the passing of cucumber sandwiches, which are nibbled little by little and then chewed behind demure palms as gossip is exchanged. Instead, you've happily plopped yourself behind the apple tree, back to rough bark and short legs spread wide in the ticklish grass. 

Methodically, one by one, you have been picking the delicate yellow petals off the heads of dandelion weeds, dropping each one to collect in the basin of the sunbonnet cradled between your thighs. It's painstaking work and nonsensical, perhaps, but it serves to satisfy some innate curiosity inside you. The purpose of this is unclear; your actions are confusing, the way children's play is often confusing to everyone but the child. But since you are quietly occupying yourself, and your mother and sister are busy socializing, they are happy to leave you to your own devices.

They are happy, that is, until your eye is caught by something much more exciting than plucking weeds.

Your neighbor down the lane has just finished imparting some succulent gossip to the gathering, and her lips are pursed against a grin as she relishes the reaction to her news. Her revelation has the intended effect: shock ripples around the table, but it is mixed with the suppressed delight of knowing a new, tantalizing secret. The party-goers exchange glances, searching for cues in one another, all wanting to know more but reluctant to appear too eager.

"Oh, my goodness." Mama places her hand over her heart as if in regret, but her eyes are gleaming. Interest thrums within the hush of her voice as she begins to ask, "And what d'you suppose he might now do, on account of—?"

"Mama!"

Her question is interrupted by your delighted cry. She turns to see you holding aloft that which made you abandon your collection. Back by the tree, those petals have spilled from the tipped sunbonnet to scatter heedlessly across the grass. "Look't what I caught!" you squeak, eyes alight with eager, innocent delight. "It's a big one, too!"

Despite your excitement, you cradle the large bullfrog gently in your hands, mindful of its comfort as you present it to your mother. You considered it quite the feat to catch the frog without causing it alarm, and when its strong legs twitch against your palm without attempting to flee, pride glows beneath the dirt streaks on your round cheeks.

Your mother does not share your sentiment. 

The way her expression contorts is so opposite what you expected that she may as well have smacked you across the face. Your earlier excitement is smothered like water douses a match, and promptly, you drop the frog. 

You drop it as if by acting quickly, you can undo whatever has caused your Mama offense. But it is not enough. Your mother stares at you, and though the look in her eyes is one you are too young to fully decipher, a parent's disapproval is sensed innately, and felt deeply.

One year after you drop the bullfrog, Mama will sell the garden furniture to purchase seeds and stock in preparation for the coming hardship, and the garden parties would end. Two years after you drop the bullfrog, Eddie will roll in like a summer storm to join his uncle in the red house next door. Seven years after you drop the bullfrog, Virginia will establish a nest of her own, leaving you as the only unwed daughter left in your parents' roost. But no matter how many years pass, you will never forget how your mother's stare made you feel. In the garden, a heavy stone sank in your gut, sickeningly leaden, steadily crushing your delicate insides with each second you spent pinned by her furious stare.

This moment in the hayloft reminds you of that. But there is no stone of lead in your stomach this time. This time, with the salt tang of Eddie's seed still lingering on your lips, your entire body turns to solid, petrified rock. 

Your mother stares up at you from the barn floor. Her face is contorted, screwed up tight with shock and rage, but her eyes are wide, wide enough to swallow you up entirely like a sinkhole would. She traps you. And you remain there, locked tight until the seethe of her voice boils hot from between her lips, blistering the ruddy flesh on its path to you.

"Git. Down. Here."

Each word is a spitfire bullet, enunciated so precisely so as not to be misconstrued. The burn rushes down your spine to melt your solid rock into magma. 

Your muscles are clenched tight, but the warm pulse once stoked between your legs has deadened. You're thrumming instead with horror, with deep, all-consuming dread. Where one moment ago you were heavy as a sinking stone, now you are unsteady, shaky like the first time Eddie coaxed you into a rowboat. 

You can't grab hold of his rough, broad palm to settle yourself this time, and you don't dare risk a glance at the man still nestled in that soft bed of hay. To catch his eye would be torture of a different kind. Instead, you rush to obey your mother's command. Your knee scrapes raw against old, splintery wood as you scramble around and dip one foot to catch the rung of the ladder. 

It's a sturdy old thing, that ladder. Good thing, too, because it holds fast as you cling to it with shuddering fingers and legs so wobbly, they clatter against its rungs with each step toward the perilous ground. By the time you reach the floor, the knee you'd scraped has gone numb. You want to turn your chin down and see if your dress has bloomed a crimson flower of blood, but your neck is unyielding. It's hard enough to step back from the security the ladder provides. All the will your spirit possesses must be channeled into facing the woman looming like a cloud of miasma behind you.

There is no time to brace for a confrontation, but you force your face into as docile an expression as possible before you meet your Mama head-on. She is short and portly, hunched up in such a way as to make her smaller in theory, though, in reality, the sight is only more imposing to you. You expect to meet her piercing stare again, but she isn't looking at you. Instead, she's got one eye hooked on the edge of the hayloft and her lip caught in a sneer so deep it's almost a snarl. 

"You too, Edward," she spits, and your throat dries to dust. "Don't think I'm ignorant of your bein' up there with'r."

The silence that follows is stifling, crowding in on you from all sides. The pressure doesn't ease even as that pregnant pause turns to the creaking and groaning of wood, which protests as the weight of an unseen body shifts toward the hayloft's edge. The thud of booted feet that replaces the wood's cry is little consolation; your heart kicks up at the steady plod that commences, matching it in rhythm but pounding twice as fast. You don't dare to turn and look or even to fiddle with your skirt nervously. Your hands remain still at your sides as your mother stares above your head, watching Eddie climb down from the hayloft. Her eyes dip slowly and steadily along with the thumping of those booted feet until her gaze is even with your face. The final step down behind you is quieter than the rest, and your throat tightens as you sense Eddie's hesitance in the sound. 

As he alights on the ground, Mama's eyes suddenly shift. Where once she had been staring almost uncannily in your direction, as if she may or may not have been trying to look you in the eye, a sudden cut and glint make it abundantly clear that now— now— your mother is gazing directly at you. 

It's all you can do to keep from trembling.

You vaguely hear the shuffle-scrape of Eddie's footsteps and feel the warmth of his body as he comes to stand beside you. The tiniest glance reveals the extent of his mortification: his pale cheeks are beet red with a flush that creeps down his throbbing neck, and his eyes are squinched half-shut as if bracing for a blow. His adam's apple bobs, and unconsciously, you swallow at the same time.

When Eddie finally opens his mouth, all that eeks out is the briefest croak before your mother interrupts coldly. "You best be gettin' home to your uncle now, Edward."

While the words don't drip with venom, the mention of Wayne is nothing if not a threat, and Eddie recognizes it as so. You would never expect him to argue; in fact, you'd be dismayed if he had, but the thought of facing your mother's wrath alone covers the frozen dread inside you with a fine layer of poignant sorrow. You are heavy, but now you are empty, too. 

Weakly, Eddie clears his throat to rasp, "Yes, ma'am." Your chin trembles at the sound of his voice, but your eyes only begin to sting when you feel the soft, subtle draw of his fingers across the small of your back as he passes by you to disappear out of sight beyond the barn doors. The touch is one last offering of comfort from your beloved before you both must face the consequence of your transgressions.

In the kitchen, Mama takes you apart.

The way she lashes you with her tongue is harsh and unforgiving. Each word darts across the kitchen counter, catches you with its claws, and burrows beneath your tender skin, sinking deep to carve into your marrow. 

"How dare you." Her voice quivers with the force of her rage. "How dare you bring such disgrace upon our family. You know darn well that we forbade you from seeing that boy, yet you went behind our backs anyway. And now, to make matters worse, I find you been carryin' on like a," her lips twist up to spit a sharper barb, "hussy up in the hayloft. What kind of a girl do you think that makes you, y/n?"

She pauses long enough to make you question whether she expects an answer, but she carries on without you. Her eyes dart along the cabinets, unseeing as she chuckles mirthlessly. "And, oh. M'blood could just boil thinkin' how that boy could set there at his dinner table and talk about how good we raised our daughter, only for you two t'turn around and… and…." 

She stutters off, wild eyes rolling as she works herself up. The deepening of her wince uglies her visage, so that lines crease at the corners of her mouth where before there were none. And oh, how foolish you were to think the sight of her bulging eyes would be in any way gratifying. How deeply, utterly stupid of you to think such a thing.

"What you done is unspeakable. How'm I supposed to show my face in town, knowing what you been up to right underneath my nose? It turns my stomach just to think about what y'were doin' up there w'him." 

Each word sinks deep inside you. It’s a barrage of all you deserve because it's the truth. And this is just the beginning. Because there's disgust there, in Mama's screwed-up face, and there's fury, too. But beneath those, there's also hurt— the evidence of a deep wound torn open by your impropriety. It's a hurt you aren't sure you can mend. 

At that realization, fat, hot tears begin to roll unimpeded down your cheeks. They drip from your quivering chin, which tightens with the occasional sniffle as you try to keep yourself from collapsing to the floor, wrapping your arms around your mother’s skirt, and pressing yourself to her shins in pitiful supplication. 

Though Mama is looking at you, she doesn't seem to register that you've started to cry. "I just can't understand it." Mama's fingers press divots into her temples, and her head wags absently as if in subconscious denial. "Virginia was your age when she married her Lawrence. She knew the way of things. And now look at 'er— got her own home and three children to raise." Her hands drop sharply, and a flash of judgment returns. "She's a proper lady. And then what d'we have? You. I never thought I'd see the day when a daughter of mine would behave like this." 

The burrs stick sharply, coating you in a prickly sadness that only intensifies when your Mama's plump arms tighten to her sides, crossing beneath her bosom, cinching in tight as she presses a fist to her lips. 

"Lord help me— what'm I gonna do with you now?" 

It's so much quieter than all else she's said, so much duller, and yet all the more painful for it.

Her name on your lips is a whimper, a sob, a plea all at once. "Mama—" You suddenly feel no more than six years old with dirt streaked on your shameful cheeks, filled with the crushing sense of all you've done wrong.

"Don't." She cuts you off firmly. Your teeth click together painfully as your jaw snaps closed. She stares at you for a long moment. "Th'last thing I wanna do is talk about what was goin' on up there, but clearly…" 

You read the intention in your mother's restless shifting, the discomfited rocking of her heels. Heat floods up your throat, a sickly blaze of shame. "Well," she continues stiffly, "I know y'had your mouth on him, and that's… that's one thing. But I need to know." Her fist drops to reveal a stiff upper lip, but her voice quavers slightly as she asks a question that doesn't stick like burrs or burrow beneath your skin. Instead, it pierces straight through the center of you. 

"Have you had relations with Edward?"

Your shock is like the firm twist of a leaky spigot. The steady flow of your tears ceases so abruptly that it's nearly enough to distract from the question itself.

Nearly enough. Not quite enough.

Horrified panic surges up as the question sinks in: Mama's askin' me if I had sex with Eddie. The feeling claws its way past your stomach, past your heart, past the heat in your throat, and straight up to your head. It rushes there, leaving you dizzy. Black fuzz spreads across your vision. 

And the lie springs up, ready and poised behind your teeth. It's a denial borne of fear, desperation, and the deep ache beating in the child's heart still nestled within your grown one. That tiny heart flutters against your ribs, recalling the plink of music box drift-offs and gentle John the Rabbit wake-ups; the balm of kisses pressed to scraped knees and hurt feelings wrung out with tight hugs; the roundness of laughing cheeks streaked with flour and little hands cradled in large palms, guided to knead love into dough, right here, in this room, all those years ago.

Could you survive the loss that would come with confession? Could you bear to see the lingering light— the final vestige of a mother's regard for her child— die behind her eyes? 

Led by a child's heart and a mind seized by panic, the choice you make is not a choice, but an inevitability.

"No," you whimper, and such sincerity pools within your eyes that even one who knows better might be convinced you believe that. "No, I din't lay with him, Mama. I swear it."

The softening of her features, fractional though it is, brings you such tender relief that tears spring anew at the corners of your lashes. 

"Well, all right," she says finally, and while her voice isn't quite fond, you can see the creases around her mouth ease, fading from deep crevices back to the faint lines you're familiar with. It's a gift you wouldn't dare waste. "Y'know what needs to be done, then."

Without a hint of protest, you retrieve the wooden spoon from the crock on the counter, passing it into your mother's waiting hand and presenting your backside to her. 

With balled fists and a rigid spine, you take your punishment. You press your lips flat to keep all your noises in as Mama spanks you with the rounded back of the wooden spoon. The even raps— ten against your clothed buttocks— smart and sting, but they do not ache. Her actions are not hesitant or reluctant, but they aren’t gluttonous either. Your mother does not grow fat feasting on your pain; she is merely obliged to provide it.

You are braced for another impact when you hear the spoon clatter back into the crock. When you realize another blow will not come, you face her again. Silence reigns the room as you take stock of yourself: warm, stinging skin, pressure in your cheeks, nose, and forehead from crying, and a new, yawning hollowness inside.

"M'sorry, Mama," you sniffle, throat thick with remorse, "M'sorry for disobeying you, a-and bringin' shame on the family. I— I jus'..." You choke and try again. "I—"

There is only one justification, however inadequate it might seem to your mother. It's spoken in the misery of your crumpled brow, in the glaze of your big wet eyes, in the copper of your lower lip where you've worried the spot Eddie's kisses still sweetly linger.

I love him.

"I know." Mama replies as if you'd said it aloud, and her voice is tight, tight with what she is trying to suppress. "I know you do." Her bosom heaves with a heavy, bracing sigh. "But y'know what your Pa said." She doesn’t seem to feel the need to be more specific, and you muster a smidgeon of gratitude for that.

"I know," you echo her, and your voice is tiny and broken. You are tiny and broken. And tired. You realize all at once that you are so tired, it's a labor just to keep from lying down right here on the floor. "R'you gonna tell 'im what I did?"

A jerky nod confirms it, and you think you'd feel more afraid if you could feel anything at all. "I'll speak with your Pa when he gets home," Mama tells you. "Now go'n up to your room. Don't expect you'll get any supper tonight." 

You stare at her, solemn and unresisting, and in that stillness, you can see the moment she hesitates. The flicker that passes across her crinkled eyes is brief, but you see it, and the hush of her voice tells a story all its own. "Don't come down for nothin'," she murmurs intently. "No matter what y'hear. Just stay in your room 'til the morning. Hear me?" 

You can feel yourself wilt further into exhaustion with each passing moment. "Yes, Mama," you croak in dutiful agreement.

The press of her cool palm against your warm, sticky cheek is brief. It lingers only long enough for you to barely realize it has been offered. But that fleeting sensation keeps you alert enough to drag yourself up to your bedroom, softly shut the door, strip off your dress and chemise, and pull on your thin nightgown before relinquishing yourself to the sunken mattress. At that point, you cease to tick, like the final tines have plinked within a wound music box. You have landed on your back atop the covers, and there you will stay until you can summon the strength to turn onto your side.

Though you are tired, sleep does not come to offer a reprieve. Instead, though your eyes begin to strain, you stare at the crack in the plaster above your head. It's the same one you traced while waiting for your crow to land on your windowsill yesterday, yesterday, yesterday. Yesterday beats in the useless yearning of your heart, trailing down your temples to pool in the hollows of your ears.

Yesterday, Eddie held you in your bed until you fell asleep. Today, he never would again.

Heavy footsteps rouse you, and you jolt awake. 

At some point in the afternoon, outside your conscious memory, the slow leaking of your eyes had finally ceased. Blearily, you curled into yourself, tucking your wrists beneath your chin and finally drifting off into unconsciousness. Now, your bedroom is not the way you remember it. It's dizzying at first when your eyes pop open not to the crack in white plaster you'd expected but instead to the sight of your bedroom window. The outside is dark beyond the gauze curtains. The air now hums with the dusk song of cicadas. 

You have little time to orient yourself before the heavy footsteps that woke you yield to the squeal of a door hinge. Your neck is stiff when you lift your head, attempting to blink the strain from your eyes.

Cast in dimness, Pa looms over you like the shadow of death.

Your father is typically imposing, but his visage is made even more severe by the lack of light. His long face appears to be carved with crags, which harshen the snarl of his brow and turn the wrinkles of his sneer into jagged gashes lining his thin lips. What little light remains glints off the bony line of his nose and the flash of his hard, unyielding eyes. He stands unmoving as if etched from obsidian; the only feature to betray him as man and not stone is the ticking of his square jaw. A muscle there jumps erratically, twitching out its silent fury.

Eyes wide, heart fluttering, breath quick and shallow, you lay still as a prey animal hoping to escape a predator's sight. That is no use. Quick as a rattler, Pa's hand strikes out, and the yawning hollowness inside you becomes an uproar of fear flooding your throat.

He takes firm hold of your arm, thick fingers like a vice pinching your skin. When he tugs at you roughly, you let him maneuver you to the edge of the bed. You keep yourself limp and unresisting because, now that you've been caught in his jaws, you know he'll only bite down harder if you don't. And you even shimmy to assist him, fingers twisted tight in the hem of your nightgown to keep it from dragging up your legs. Preoccupied with maintaining your modesty, you're unprepared to be dragged beyond the footboard; you lurch off the bed in an ungainly slump, and your knees clunk painfully to the hardwood floor. 

A shock of pain shoots up both of your legs, and you muffle your reaction with lips pressed tight, following the silent command of your father's grip as he insists you turn to face the mattress. He drops you only once you're kneeling how he wants you, and the loss of his clamped fingers is a relief. Feeling begins to return to your arm as blood flows freely again, and a dull throb starts up in the place he'd gripped you. 

Yet that's nothing compared to what you know is coming when you hear the metallic clink of a buckle. It's followed by the unthreading of his belt, which shicks through the loops of his blue jeans with a drag of denim and a snap of leather breaking free. 

Moments pass in agonizing silence as you wait for the first crack of the belt. Everything inside you tightens in preparation for the pain to come— your muscles, your bones, your heart, and your spirit. You brace yourself, thighs quivering as you hold so perfectly still despite how your skin has begun to dew with nervous sweat. As you hold that stillness, you can even detect the sting of your mother's milder punishment throbbing in time with the pulse that thrums within your tense body. 

Your head has just begun to sag when Pa's voice grates loudly like the grinding of stone, gruff and hoarse. "Y'pologized to your Mama for your behavior?" 

You rush to answer. "Yes, sir." 

"Y'ever gonna dare sneakin' around under my roof again?" 

"No, sir." 

A grunt follows your reply. It sounds satisfied enough to untwist a little of the fear inside you. "Y'ashamed of yourself for what you done with that piece of trash? You regret lettin' him," he pauses so the spit of his words might sting you worse, "ruin you with his filthy hands?" 

Unbidden, Eddie's face blooms in your mind's eye: wild curls of soft dark frizz, crinkled eyes lightened to amber in the sunshine, soft nose dusted with cinnamon freckles, pink lips stretched wide in a smile that makes your heart squeeze even in your memory. You see him there, your beloved crow, and your chin trembles with the truth. You manage to steady it so that your second lie of the day can come out strong. "Yes, sir." 

But perhaps, in your remembering, you hesitate a second too long, because your answer is quickly followed by fire cracking across the crease of your thigh and cheek. 

You yelp with shock and pain, reeling as the contact burns through you, beginning as a white-hot ache before dulling to a throb. You tremble, breathing shakily as your father mutters, "I'll make damn sure of that."

Pa belts you across your buttocks and thighs, attempting to scald that shame into you with the cruelty he wields by his hand. But the whip of the belt is not the same as the lashing of your mother's words in the kitchen; it could never be. Not when Eddie's face has bloomed before you, bathed in summer sunshine. Not in this place, where the bunching of your fingers in the bedspread only makes you think about strong arms around your middle, soft breath on your cheek, and the tickle of wild curls against your shoulder. 

Your father feasts on the cries he draws from you. He takes them as evidence of your guilt and shame. But you're fortified by the memory of Eddie's strong body cradling you in this bed, the breadth of his wide palm on your mound as he brings you to the pinnacle of pleasure, holding you snugly against him when you fall into surrender.

Harshness could never drive out reverence. Pain could never drive out love.

Pa might leave you welted and whimpering against the footboard, but he can never make you waver in your devotion to Edward Munson.

That's not, of course, due to a lack of trying. Because try he does. Pa efforts to cleave you from Eddie in any way he knows how. He begins with a belting and continues the next morning with a visit to your neighbor, Mr. Wayne.

He's over there 'til midday, which you know because you do not rouse from your bed until he returns. You'd lain there on your side for the entirety of the morning, wrists again tucked beneath your chin, but legs straight since curling them made the throbbing in your bottom and thighs sharpen to a burning ache. Throughout the morning, you stared out the window, watching the light crawl steadily up the red siding of the house next door. 

You stirred only when Mama came to tend you. She didn't speak, but you could sense her sentiment in the mild soap and damp cloth she used to wash you, in the gentle pat of a soft towel against your cleansed skin, in the earthy spice of the calendula salve she dabbed on your welts. After she was done, your nightgown fluttered back into place around your hip and flank with the lightest touch. You nibbled on the toast sweetened with butter and honey she left for you on the bedside table, but you did not quit your bed.

This was not the first time Pa had taken the belt to you for some indiscretion, but it was by far the harshest. That's evident as the painful throbbing in your lower half intensifies when you prop yourself up on a palm, testing how it feels to sit up. Your father finds you in the midst of this endeavor: leaning gingerly on one flank, your lips pressed tight and pale. 

You glance toward him warily as he bullies open your bedroom door, and he squints back but doesn't acknowledge your pained expression. "Get y'rself presentable," he grunts. "You're comin' with me next door."

Humiliation, it seems, is the next tool Pa has decided to use to cleave you from Eddie. You know it isn't unreasonable to ask you to apologize to Mr. Wayne for your inappropriate behavior. In fact, now that you've had time to reflect on your actions, you even want to apologize to your neighbor. You cannot— will not— denounce your devotion to Eddie, but you do regret disrespecting Mr. Wayne. He's a man who has been nothing but kind and patient with you and his nephew throughout all the years you've known him, and to think you'd wounded him with your actions makes your throat thicken with genuine regret. 

So you dress hastily in your loosest, lightest frock and spend the majority of the time Pa affords you sitting at your writing desk, crafting a missive of carefully-chosen words you hope will convey to Wayne the depth of your sincere contrition. It takes some scratch-outs and restarts, but by the time Pa returns to retrieve you, you feel satisfied with what you've written.

You expect to apologize to Mr. Wayne for the offence you have caused him, and you expect to make the apology in person, so you don’t hesitate as you follow your father into the red house. It is also unsurprising that Pa would watch you deliver that apology. Knowing his nature, it's expected that he'd want to ensure your efforts are satisfactory. But you do not anticipate the way Pa ushers you through your neighbors' house, one palm pressed flat to your back to keep you from retreating when you see Eddie sitting next to Wayne at the dining room table.

Eddie doesn't look any worse for wear, not in the way you feel after enduring Pa's punishment last night, but he isn't unaffected by yesterday's events. He's wilted like a shade plant left too long in the hot sun: limp curls clumped at the ends, broad shoulders slumped, pink lips sagging at the corners. His umber eyes are smudged with purple in the hollows of their sockets as he stares down at the table. He doesn't look up as Pa urges you forward. 

Your heart seizes at the sight of him, stalling as familiar, hungry want mixes with poignant, thrumming sadness. The impulse to rush to the table and throw your arms around him, to bury your fingers in his curls and cradle his face to your breast, to feel his hot arms crush you against him— all comfort, all sweetness, all desperate relief— is nearly overwhelming. 

To resist is worse agony than any strike of leather, but resist you must. Pa's firm hand on your back demands you stand behind the chair across from Mr. Wayne; all the while as he maneuvers you, you will your crow to look up. He doesn't, though you can tell he now knows you're here. You see it in the tightening of his brow and the twist of his plush lips, which pinch with the effort to keep himself at bay. 

Pa scrapes a chair out, settling himself heavily down into its seat. Standing beside him, you fidget with the crisply-folded letter, pinched fingertips crawling slowly along its edges as you pour all your will and longing into a stare that Eddie refuses to return. 

The stalemate ends as Pa clears his throat loudly, growing impatient. "Go'n, now," he prompts, crossing his arms and kicking his feet out under the table in a scuff and thump of heavy boots.

You steal one more lingering glance at Eddie before dropping your eyes to your hands and unfolding your letter. It is silent at the table as you turn it right-side up to read from. You lick your lips and take a breath to steady your nerves before beginning.

"Dear Mr. Wayne," you begin, reading in a cadence reminiscent of your schoolteachers' voices— melodic, perhaps too overly-expressive. "I want to tell you that I am so very sorry—" 

A lump rises suddenly in your throat, and you falter; you begin again, speaking a little faster, though you can't disguise the tiny tremble that has emerged. "I am so very sorry for what I've done to disrespect you. I have been carrying on in a shameful manner…."

The apology becomes a blur as you race to complete it before losing your composure. As you express your remorse and acknowledge your wrongdoing, the shaking of your voice only worsens; by the end, your chin is wobbling hard enough that your teeth start chattering.

"Tha's all right, dear," Wayne interjects, gruff but not unkind. Never unkind. "I kin what you're tryin' to express. 'ppreciate your apology."

You nod jerkily, accepting the reprieve gratefully. You fold your letter back up with trembling fingers and pass it over the table to your neighbor, who tucks it away in his pocket.

With a jut of his chin, Pa motions to Eddie. "S'your turn now, boy," he says, and there's enough vitriol roiling there beneath the surface to more than compensate for Wayne's lack. Pa's shrewd eyes dart to you. "Sit down now."

You don't dare disobey, though your stiffness and pinched expression bely your discomfort as you perch gingerly on the edge of the chair. Eddie rises sharply, and your gaze catches on the clench of his broad fist at his side, how his ruddy knuckles have blanched with the force of his grip. You know they'd tightened at the sight of your pain, and a sudden surge of longing nearly leaves you breathless.

You'd urged Eddie to look up at you when he'd been seated, but now you know why he didn't because neither can you, now that the positions are reversed. You can't look up at his face and see the expression there. It's hard enough to hear his voice as he apologizes to your father for touching you without his permission, for the deep offense of wanting you when he'd expressly been told he wasn't allowed because he was too wild and frivolous, and that he'd proven himself as such for what he'd done with you in the hayloft. 

At the end of Eddie's apology, Pa grunts his acceptance. Then, he informs you in no uncertain terms what now will happen. It is the result of his lengthy discussion with Wayne this morning; in the end, they both agreed on certain truths moving forward, and they share those with you now.

They tell you that you and Eddie have been stripped of your freedoms and grounded for further notice. That you aren't to attempt to see or speak with one another. That you should begin thinking about your separate futures and leave this silly summer romance behind. That you are both lucky they are benevolent enough to allow you to continue living side-by-side without sending one or both of you away. 

You are bidden to acknowledge the rules, and you intone your obedience, as does Eddie. And when Pa is satisfied that you have been sufficiently cleaved from the boy across the table, you are herded back around the tall fence and deposited onto your property.

Having seen the defeat written across your miserable face, Pa leaves you to your own devices. You choose to sit beneath the apple tree, hissing at the lance of pain that races up your buttocks and into your spine as you thump down into the grass. Stubbornly, you ignore the low throbbing in favor of deciphering the storm inside you.

Under the apple tree, a billow of emotion spreads within, complex and layered, filled with contradictions. Because what you've done is indeed wrong, and you know that. But to take the depth of your relationship with Eddie and reduce it to an indiscreet romp, a careless mistake, an insignificant dalliance chalked up to the folly of youthful impulse… 

Well, you know this also. Down to your core, you know that that isn't right. And no one rivals you in conviction once your mind is set.

Twelve days ago, the intimacy you shared with your crow came to fruition in a wondrous way. As you pass your days in solitude within your roost, that wonder begins to transform you. It starts with a letter. 

Though the tall fence running the length of your adjoining properties keeps you apart from Eddie, and your parents' watchful eyes prevent any wandering from your front porch, one minor breach remains in those steadfast defenses. It's the tree stump rotted straight through, the only place where the grass of your backyards mingles to become one. Secrets are concealed there, announced by the innocuous song of two woodland birds: the turtle dove and the crow.

You don't hear the call the day following your public apologies, or even the day after that. It comes on the third day while you're sat on a stool in the goat pen, working down the nanny's final teat with one hand. Milking her has been slow and steady work, impeded because her kid is leaning against your flank, content so long as you keep one hand on his small bristly side. His tiny tail beats rhythmically against your skirt as her milk rains hollowly into the metal bucket with each pull of your pinched fingers. And when the stream has turned to a dribble, you hear that unmistakable sound: a deep, harsh 'kaa-kaa-kaa' that has your heart pattering instantly against your ribs as your head whips of its own accord toward the fence. You strain to see Eddie through those tiny gaps, but you're too far away for the gesture to mean much. Your eyes dip to second best— that familiar stump, gnarled and weathered gray, splintered but surprisingly soft and spongy to the touch as if it would give way under a heavy hand or foot. You cannot see into the dark crevice at its base, but you know what now awaits you there.

You want to throw yourself to the ground and reach elbow-deep into that damp space, dirt and dress be damned. But you know the second you leave the bucket unattended, all the milk you'd painstakingly gathered would be claimed by the kid. You squeeze out the teet a few more times— perhaps a bit too hastily, since the nanny flicks her ears at you— before snatching up the bucket, bringing it to the kitchen to strain with cheesecloth and tuck into the icebox, leaving the bucket and soiled cloth in the sink out of sight. I'll wash it right quick as soon as I check the stump, you assure yourself. You couldn't possibly wait another moment longer to see what Eddie has left for you to find.

You're thrumming with impatience and excitement as you pop the screen door back open, struggling not to rush toward your prize and draw suspicion from anyone who may see you. Thankfully, a furtive glance around the yard ensures you are alone, and with nothing else to impede you, you quickly gather up your dress and kneel before the stump to claim your offering. 

You reach past the blanket of fertile green moss that skirts the stump's base, mind flicking through the possibilities of what you might find in there. It will surely be a scrap of paper, but what will its few words convey? Will Eddie beg you to join him at the creek one last time? Tell you he's enlisted someone's help, an emissary of sorts, to go between you so you can speak again? Will he express his longing for your body's closeness? His pain at your separation? 

A fluttering thrill blooms low inside you, cautious and sweet, fearful in its intensity. Because another wondering crosses your mind before you have the good sense to prevent it, and that wondering is this:

With an acknowledgment, perhaps, of how unideal the timing and the method is… will Eddie finally put words to the truth you see in that soft expression that graces his features, the one that's only come out for you, only you, only ever you?

Your fingertips graze thin smooth paper nested in a cradle of grass. As you pull your arm out of the stump, you can imagine it so plainly, written in that familiar scrawl: three words to turn a scrap into the most precious of treasures.

But the paper that comes out is not torn hastily from the corner of a brown paper bag as it usually is. Instead, you’re holding a folded piece of stationary, lightweight and crisp white, though its edges have soaked up some dirty dampness from where it has been hiding.

You don't have the luxury of time needed to examine the emotions that stir at this unexpected sight; you need to get to safety first. You tuck the letter beneath the band of your pocketless apron, fumbling with the bow at the small of your back to tighten it. There the paper stays, pressed against your stomach as you return to the kitchen to wash the bucket and cheesecloth. You lay them out to dry, then pass by your mother in a brush of fabric down the narrow hallway. Lightheaded, heart thumping, you creak up the stairs to your bedroom, closing your door and releasing a woosh of held breath. You sink to the floor in front of it, pressing your back to the wood. In lieu of true privacy, this position keeps someone from bursting suddenly in on you before you can conceal what you're doing. With that assurance, you shift forward, untying that tight bow and letting the apron fall across your legs, revealing a flutter of crisp white.

That stirring of emotions returns full force as you run your thumb along the bottom edge of the paper, wiping the collected dirt absently on the hem of your dress. As you unfold it and Eddie's penciled scrawl is revealed, the first wave of your emotion crests to sting sweetly in the corners of your eyes.

The letter isn't particularly long. It doesn't wax poetic about your grace and charm or meander through the hills and valleys of your shared story. It little matters when you can hear Eddie's teasing rasp in every sentence, see his wild beauty in every word, and feel his firm touch in each uneven scratch of letters into the page.

My Dove, Eddie murmurs against your temple, and you sigh, melting with the sticky sweet honey as he voices his claim on you. His Dove. That's what you are. 

"Yes, Eddie," you whisper into the stillness of your empty bedroom, lids low, lashes heavy as you read the next line. 

First things first. Don't you even think about writin' me back. You hear me? Plush lips curl as your besotted expression falls into a pout, and you hear the rasp of his laugh as he cradles your face in his broad, rough palms. S'not that I don't wanna get a letter from you, you know. I just can't have you in any more trouble. It nearly killed me to see how you were hurtin' on account of me. Umber eyes crinkle, and his thumb brushes the corner of your lip. Promise me you'll listen for once. 

You regard him sullenly for a moment. "Fine," you grump, and the crooked smile you're rewarded with softens the edge of your frustration. 

Eddie regards you fondly. I know you don't wanna. But you will anyway, 'cause y'can't help but do what I say now that you're all gooey over me.

You flush with heat, bashful but pleased, twisting your lips against the dopey smile that wants to come out for him. Now that that's settled, he snarks, making you yearn to kiss the knowing tilt right off his lips, I want you to know that… well, I really am sorry for makin' a mess of things for us. Maybe if I'd done different, we wouldn't be where we are right now. No use dwellin' on it or nothin', because what's past is past. But I screwed it up for us, and I don't know what to do to fix it, and I'm just sorry, Dove. I really am. 

"Oh, Eddie—" His name is a soft, feminine sigh of anguish as the sting returns full force, burning insistently behind your eyes. You grab up his hands, squeezing them tight; the paper wrinkles in your grip. "Eddie, you didn't make a mess of anything. It's not your fault at all, what's happened."

He stares at you mournfully, dark eyes heavy and sad, continuing as if you hadn't spoken. And I know it's only been a few days since I seen you, but I miss you something fierce. S'like my arm's been cut clean off. His lips quirk up just slightly in the corners. And you'll say that's just me bein' dramatic as always, but I mean it. It really does hurt me that much to be away from you.

Eddie's curls brush your cheeks as he gathers you close to him, pressing his nose to the top of your hair. Wish I could hold you. Be there for you, take care of you. But I guess this's all I can do for now. He breathes in deep, and your heart twists sweetly in your chest at the feeling of his breath there— a cool inhale, and then warmth puffing in short bursts when he murmurs, You know you're my best friend, but you're so much more than that. Y'always have been. I told you I'd never let anyone take you from me, and I intend to keep my word, no matter how long I gotta wait.

Your first tear falls, and Eddie's arms tighten around you. He presses a kiss to your hair. In the meantime, he rasps, quiet but sure and brash as always, if you find yourself missin' me, or if you're havin' a hard go of it, or if you just wanna remind yourself where I am. All you gotta do is call for me, Turtle Dove. And when I call back, what I'm really sayin' is, 'I'm here. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere.'

On the page, there's a gap of space and a scratched-out word, and you can feel Eddie's adam's apple bob in a gulp. And if I'm missin' you, or… or if I'm havin' a hard go of it. If you still want me the way that I want you.

The final line of the letter begins to fuzz while you stare down at it, expanding in a bloom of dark-on-white as more tears flood your eyes. But you don't need to see it; the words have already been etched into your heart. 

Will you call back to me? So I know you're here, and you ain't goin' anywhere?

Those two questions close the letter; there is no signature. After all, when two like souls flutter their wings and settle themselves to perch together on a shared wire, names become nothing more than an afterthought. 

Paper flattens to the wooden floor. It crinkles as you press against it with your palm, leveraging yourself up to your feet blindly as your stirrings finally overtake you in a rush of tears. They flow over as you lurch around the footboard to the windowsill, pushing the gauzy curtains heedlessly aside; they catch the corners of your lips as your fingers twist the stiff window hinge, and your smile stretches in time with the window's jerky progress up the frame. 

September air floods in, ruffling gauze and soothing over your forehead and cheeks. The humid heat of summer has finally broken, leaving mugginess a thing of the past. And it's into that air, scented with crisp wind and the first dry musk of fading leaves, that you call for your crow. 

Your first coo isn't as graceful as usual because your voice is choked by sorrow and joy combined. But you do not let that stop you. You call out your bedroom window again and again, as loud as you've ever been, eyes fixed on the stoop at the back of the red house. You call and call until the door springs open there, and a crow hops out onto the stoop. As you look down upon him, tears run in trails that drip off your chin, and your cheeks begin to ache with the force of your smile. You cup your small hands around your mouth and call again. 

'Turr-turr-turr,' you sing, mimicking the melodic trill of the turtle dove.

This moment will not quell your stirrings. As more days pass, they will billow ever more intensely and change ever more quickly as the transformation continues inside you. Your bitterness and your temper are still to come; you have not seen the last of your aching. 

But, for right now, this is all that matters. A pale face tipped up toward the sun, a cloud of dark curls tossing wild and untamed, a boyish whoop of relief and adoration, and the love that swells within you— still unspoken, but no less true.

#blueywrites #td&tc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #farmer!eddie munson #farmer!eddie #best friends to lovers #cw: physical abuse #tw: emotional abuse #parental abuse #cw: child abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: physical abuse #cw: emotional abuse #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x f!reader

[makeadealwithdean]

makeadealwithdean’s friday fic list - stranger things

here's a list of the fics i've read this week (8/26/22) and highly, highly recommend! these fics are not mine and belong only to the writers, so writers, if you don't want to be mentioned on here, message me, and i'll take you off no questions asked! also, most of these fics are smut and 18+ ONLY, so minors dni!!

steve harrington:

~ i want to touch you * by @poeticandors (my note: this whole series is PHENOMENAL, probably my favorite steve series <3)

~ pretending * by @poeticandors

~ perv!steve * by @creelteeth

~ put away my pride * by @wtfsteveharrington

~ baby, baby, baby * by @pixiemunsons

~ the king (pornstar!steve) * by @poetrieshouse

~ sex education * by @sortagaysortahigh (my notes: my other very favorite steve series)

~ fake it 'til you make it by @thefreak-thebanished

~ power trip * by @silkscream

~ car troubles * by @hellfiresangel

~ private eyes * by @peachesworld96

~ you shook me all night long * (series) by @pinkchubbiebunnie (my note: i LOVE this series sooooo much <3)

~ needy * by @bvmbshell

~ cloud 9 * by @sortagaysortahigh

eddie munson:

~ the dungeon master * by @chaoticmunson

~ 18 * by @chaoticmunson

~ vanilla * by @fan-fantasies

~ BOO? * by @eagerbby

~ nice bracelet * by @starbxcks

~ cover girl * by @eddies-perm

~ out loud by @iheartyouyou

~ menace by @retrobutterflies

~ groupie * by @hellfirebabes

~ birthday surprise * by @hellfirebabes

~ the crescent moons by @huffle-pissed

~ freak * by @evergreencowboy

~ eddie teaches you guitar * by @forever-rogue

~ eddie x shy bsf!reader * by @mypoisonedvine

~ you're so cute * by @pixiemunsons

~ alternative payment * by @letterstotheflre

~ nice fucking try by @itsoutrageouss

~ pink is metal * by @sinnerlillith

others/multi:

~ friends with benefits * by @poetrieshouse (steve x reader x eddie)

~ vodka & watermelon chapstick * by @wtfsteveharrington (steve x reader x robin)

~ silk dreams * by @msgorillagripcoochie (steve x reader x eddie)

~ role play * by @corrodedhawkins (joseph quinn x reader, eddie munson x reader)

~ not your boyfriend * by @little-moonbeam-666 (joseph quinn x reader, eddie munson x reader)

~ enough * by @hellfiresangel (steddie x reader)

~ choice encounters * by @latelyanobsession (billy x reader x steve)

~ unexpected call * by @444awhore444 (billy hargrove x reader)

~ only love can hurt like this * by @strangerbitxhs (billy hargrove x reader)

~ ruined makeup * by @tommydarlings (billy hargrove x reader)

~ dumb baby * by @sadiesuns (billy hargrove x reader)

~ i'll be the judge by @luvfae (steve x reader, robin x reader)

go give these talented writers some love! and remember to reblog and comment if you can- it really helps creators <3

shameless plug: here's my main masterlist. i write for steve and eddie too :)

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fics #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #ficrecs #makeadealwithdean #makeadealwithdeans friday fic list

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 6,118 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, fluff, swearing, loneliness, family issues, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of inappropriate and abusive relationships from reader’s past (nothing detailed), mentions of relationships with an inappropriate age gap (adult men dating reader when she was still a teenager—nothing detailed), brief mentions of imprisonment, crying. i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry to say not all updates will be this quick 🫠 this is only ready now because i had already written a good chunk of it when i wrote part one. creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

“How’d it go?” Martha pulled herself up to get a better look at you, hands on the inner edge of the service desk.

She probably thought with how much time had passed, that things went well. That you spent time with Eddie while he worked, talking when he wasn’t too focused on something else. Maybe you went out to eat and caught up—surely that was why you were returning now when you had left to see him around late morning. It definitely wasn’t because you drove off after he snapped at you and didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. A prank? Why would it have been a prank?

It certainly hadn’t been so long because you couldn’t stand the idea of facing her with tears in your eyes and a waver to your voice. Surely, you hadn’t been crying and chastising yourself in your car in some random parking lot until you felt you could be seen in the outside world again. There was no way you were showing up now because when you were on your way to get more greasy food, your car sputtered to a halt because you’re an idiot who had the engine running the entire time you were in that parking lot.

She imagined your afternoon spent with Eddie—not a few strangers who helped you push your car to the nearest gas station (which was thankfully rather close, your only bout of luck thus far). You didn’t need to stop to cry a second time in one day (this time with the car off) just so you could get it out of your system before going into the market on your way back. And by that point it wasn’t even about Eddie. Okay, maybe a little bit, but mostly just because you were so overwhelmed by how everything was going wrong.

She was sure during all that time that you had successfully reunited with your long lost friend. But then as you trudged over, you pointed to your temple.

“Always better up here, right?” you murmured, voice tired and your eyes still somewhat raw.

“Oh, dear…,” she sighed, reaching to pat your hands that were now settled on the ledge where guests were greeted.

“I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it…,” you admit, and she gives your hands a small squeeze. She can’t help but notice the scent of salt and grease—you definitely had a bag with cheeseburgers and fries waiting for you, probably settled on the floor beside your feet so you weren’t leaving oily stains on her countertop.

Maybe it was ridiculous to be so upset. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions that you should be able to control by now. Maybe it was because you let yourself get caught up in your hopes more than you thought and now you were left not just disappointed, but humiliated too.

“Oh, I got you this,” you continue after what you hoped was a forgettable dab to the corner of your eye with the knuckle of your right thumb. You pull your purse to the side to grab a small brown paper bag—one that didn’t have stains collecting on the bottom. “They didn’t have tuna, but I know you said you like turkey better than ham so…”

“You don’t need to keep bringing me food,” she reassured you with a sweet smile, as if it didn’t make her day whenever you did. She wasn’t used to such a kind young girl being around—someone who thought to get her something to eat or listened to her stories with all the respect and attentiveness that makes a person feel like they matter.

“It’s rude to show up with food for myself and not for you,” you argued gently while offering her a weak, closed mouth smile.

“You still don’t have to, though… Why don’t you go lie down, hm?” Martha patted at your hands again before sinking back into her seat. “Rest up a little. I’m here if you need to talk.”

*

As you laid alone in your bed that night with your hair still partially damp after a shower—memories of your childhood flooded in. You hated feeling so utterly lonely and rejected. It only made you think of growing up which always made you feel worse. It reminded you of being all by yourself at ages where you really should’ve had your parents around, or at least a babysitter.

They hadn’t been ready to have a kid, not really. The couple had been all wrapped up in the romanticism and fantasy of starting a family, and didn’t listen when other parents shared stories to hint at the fact that it’s not that easy. You wondered if that’s when they started to hate you. When you cried all night when they wanted to sleep or go bar hopping with friends. When you’d spit up on them; or suddenly have a shift in your sleeping habits just when they thought they had a grasp on them; or when you constantly grew out of those clothes they swore they just bought. You were a waste of time and money. They looked forward to you growing up more than anything so they could leave you in the house and eventually kick you out of it.

Once you were old enough to make a sandwich or pour a bowl of cereal on your own, they abandoned you as much as possible. Sure, you could handle a peanut butter and jelly or a bowl of Cheerios—that didn’t mean you felt secure in the house all by yourself. At first you would leave all the lights on to give yourself some semblance of security, but then they yelled at you over an electric bill you didn’t understand. Then you’d have “accidents” just so they’d come home—whether that was slicing your finger while trying to cut your sandwich or because you fell or something else you thought of. You found comfort in them being around even if they were pissed at you for being the reason they had to come back early. Then they stopped coming home when you called them crying. Instead, they reassured you that you were old enough to clean your finger and put on a bandaid; or that the fall wasn’t that bad if you could get up and go to the phone in the kitchen. So that ended up being a lost cause.

The habit that stuck the longest was from that little magic 8 ball you got one birthday from an aunt you never saw. It actually listened to you and gave you the reassurance and guidance you needed. When you were scared of the dark, you’d whisper “Do monsters exist?” and it told you no. When you thought you heard someone in the house just because it was settling, you’d ask it if someone broke in and it helped ease your racing heart with the same reply. Besides Eddie, it was your only companion. That stupid hunk of plastic.

Hot tears that you assumed were all spent earlier today stream down from your eyes and into your hair as your train of thought turns to one memory in particular. That night you shook the child’s toy with all your might as you asked it if your parents loved you. This time the familiar phrase scratched into that floating blue triangle wasn’t so comforting.

It was a flash. A blurry replay from the back of your mind, but it still hit you hard. You wipe at your wet cheeks with the feverish haste of someone who was crying in front of a stranger. No one was in the room with you, but you still hated the way it felt. You should’ve never let any of those tears fall today—that’s what made them real. That’s what cemented how miserable you really were.

“Just look up at the sky and blink if you don’t want to.” Eddie had said as he sat next to you on the pavement.

He had been teaching you how to skate and you fell off of his board, leaving your knees and palms all scraped up and bloody. You wanted to cry, but you hated crying. It made you feel like a dumb kid. Mom and dad hate dumb, crybaby kids. You should be able to control your emotions better than this by now.

“If they don’t slip out then they’re not real. They never happened, I promise.” The boy lisped around the gap in his teeth. He had lost his last baby tooth earlier that week. He was all grown up, you guessed.

“But what about when I can’t keep them in?” You whimpered, unsure if you’d be able to blink them back the way he suggested. The boy toyed with a piece of gravel between his fingers and shrugged lazily.

“I dunno. Just wipe ‘em away, I guess. I don’t have any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you wanna.”

He pulled his long sleeve down until it was over his hand and offered his covered fist to you.

You huffed out a broken laugh at the memory and pulled your own sleeve down to continue wiping at your face. God, you missed him. He was your first best friend, and honestly your last. You had never felt that close with anyone else, and sure it was dumb because you were only kids but it still meant a lot to you. He was who you went to when you didn’t want to stay in an empty house, and even though most parents would throw a fit over a girl and a boy having sleepovers—yours couldn’t care less. At least someone else was in charge of you, even if it was Eddie’s dad who they thought was shit for reasons you didn’t understand.

He was a kind of intimidating looking character and sometimes he insisted you two stay at the local park until he came to get you when he had some friends on their way over (which you realized the implications of later), but he was a nice dad. You were around so often that he’d call you “kiddo” and ruffle your hair the way he did with Eddie’s buzzed scalp—which was more grabbing the fuzzy top of his head and nudging him around playfully than really ruffling hair. He knew you didn’t like crust on your sandwiches. He knew you liked strawberry milk more than chocolate milk, which Eddie appreciated cause it meant more chocolate Yoo-hoo for him. His dad was relatively busy and a little intense, but you liked him and you liked staying over.

Even at 24, you missed blanket forts. You missed making up stories under all the blankets and sheets as you held flashlights under your faces. You missed “camping” in the backyard. You missed wrestling. You missed watching tv until the American flag was fluttering and the national anthem played until the screen faded to black. You missed the anticipation of trying to see who was faster at turning off the tv before the screen flipped to those streaks of color and let out that god awful noise. You took turns to see who could get the closest to right when it was about to switch but before that noise could sound. You had the best score before he left.

You smiled lightly now as you settled into the bed, face still warm from all your distress of the day. Despite Eddie being part of why you had been crying in the first place, you still turned to memories of him to calm yourself down. You thought about when you were sure he’d be your first kiss—a decision you had made unfortunately a few weeks before he left. This was the kind of childish memory that made you roll your eyes, but deep down it actually made life simpler and sweeter so you still cozied up to it whenever you remembered. Reminiscing about when those kinds of things were new and exciting—without the burden of knowing all the mess that eventually comes with endearment—soothed you.

At the time, you were steadily approaching adolescence and starting to pay attention to romance novels and tv programs. It made having a boy as your best friend suddenly feel different in your stupid little prepubescent brain. The same shit he always did started to make you go shy and blush, and he’d nudge you and call you a “fuckin’ dork”. He was still in his “girls are gross” phase whereas you were already forming crushes. You developed crushes just about every day by the time you were in fifth grade, but you liked your best friend the most.

It’s funny actually—or maybe just sad—but you still had a habit of constantly forming crushes. The thought of being desired by someone thrilled you, but that love for attention put you in shitty situations sometimes. No one even liked you until you were maturing in a way that felt so much sooner and so much faster than the other girls by grade 6. Maybe that should’ve been the tell that the sudden interest in you was hollow, but it made you feel special. You kinda liked knowing boys fixated on you even if they were mimicking lewd comments they overheard their older brothers say or wrote about you in the boy’s bathroom—no matter how much you hated yourself for secretly basking in all of the attention.

It wasn’t always dumb boys in middle school, though, even if it would’ve been nice for things to be that basic forever. Eventually it was guys who were too old for you when you were in your late teens. The types who’d say shit like “That’s what you gotta love about high school girls. You get older, and they stay the same age,” and made you feel like you were grown and capable—when it benefited them, of course.

The nights you regretted getting wrapped up in the excitement of an older man or someone you had never met before at a bar or someone who had a bad habit of punching holes into walls awfully close to where your head was against the plaster—you thought about Eddie. You wondered if he grew up to be as awful as all the other boys you knew. If he turned into a creep or if he was the same, sweet boy who—sure, would hold you down and pretend he was gonna spit on you—but had also been taught to hold the door open for you or gave you a flower on your birthday or held your hands when he taught you to skate, promising that he wouldn’t let you fall. Well, except for when you insisted you were ready to do it by yourself. Then he said “Okay, but if you fall on your ass then you don’t get to yell at me.” And you didn’t yell, but he gave you his sleeve if you needed to cry.

There were parents who disappointed. Extended family you rarely heard from. Friends that came and went. Boyfriends who broke your heart, but best friends were forever in your mind. Wasn’t that why you made those bracelets and spit into your palms before shaking on the decision that you were always going to be there for each other?

*

Eddie’s shift dragged along after that strange young woman showed up. He knew his reputation. He knew that he was the butt of most jokes. He knew he was the town freak even when he had finally graduated and was trying to be a responsible adult. There would always be a few who remained unrelenting in their efforts to make him miserable, or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t like you were someone he recognized as guilty for his constant harassment, but it wouldn’t be the first time some local asshole’s cousin or friend came to visit and was put up to the task of making him feel liked just for it to be some cruel punchline. He was tired of the jokes and the pranks and the muttered comments as people watched his every move. He needed to stay one step ahead or he’d be dealing with it forever. Why else would you pull him away from the back just to talk to him? He didn’t even know you. The frustration burned at him through most of his shift, which he took out on all the exertion he had to put into fixing that crappy Ford Ranch Wagon. He prayed that he would finally sleep tonight, the thought of a hot shower and an old bed waiting for him steadily bringing his mood back up.

Eddie sighed happily when it was time to clock out, holding the door open for Linda on her way out so she could lock up for the two of them.

“Night, Lin,” he sighed with a small smile that spoke of apologies for his constant grouchiness, and parted from her to head to his van.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly called out, making him raise his brows and twist on his heels. He watched her make her way over to him all while holding something out for him.

“This was left for you by that odd girl who came by.”

At the mention of you, he scowled a little—certain it was a continuation of some joke, until he felt the plastic beads strung together on some string.

“Uh… thanks.”

“She looked real upset. All teary-eyed. Did you break up with that poor girl?”

“What?” Eddie’s head snapped up to eye her incredulously. “I—No! I don’t even recognize her. I don’t think we’ve even met before.”

Lin eyed him suspiciously before letting out a small hum. Men, she thought, although Eddie had always been a good kid, in her opinion—no matter what others said.

“Really, I swear.”

“Okay, hon… well go get some rest, alright?”

He hoped the same for her, and walked back to his car once she was safe in her vehicle and driving off. Eddie clambered into his old van and carelessly punched the button that turned on the light above his head. The bracelet in his hand was small and crowded with an odd assortment of different shaped and colored beads except for seven of the nearly identical beads that were lined up in the center. At both ends there were knots in the thick string to keep the beads from slipping off and had tails left on either side so you could tie and untie the bracelet whenever. Not that you two ever did untie them. The only time you took yours off was when you went swimming at the community pool and were scared you were going to lose it—and that didn’t count. You both promised it didn’t count cause you were just avoiding disaster.

He held it up to get a better look and read the lettering on those seven beads.

C-R-I-T-T-E-R

Critter. Eddie’s brows furrowed together and confusion was only welcome for half a second—maybe even less—before a pang of familiarity punched him in the gut.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“How can I be doing it wrong? Will you screw off?”

“Eddie, you have to make a pretty pattern of colors, not just random mish-mash. See?”

You held up the bracelet you were working on for him with a pattern of his favorite colors: red bead, blue bead, black bead, red bead… and so on. His was just whatever bead he grabbed that he thought looked cool since you had so many to choose from. There were bulky wooden ones; those tiny little rainbow ones your mom let you have when her long necklace full of them broke (she didn’t want to clean them up so she promised you could keep them if you did); sunburst ones; chunky square ones that had letters and numbers on them; tribeads that were half in and half out of that thin plastic Beadery bag in your collection; and those dumb pop beads that he couldn’t even put on the string but of course kept picking up by accident.

“Screw off,” He insisted a second time and you rolled your eyes before continuing with your craft.

For all the shit you gave him, you loved the bracelet. Once it was done and he gave it to you, it was officially the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned. You had insisted you two trade the bracelets like you heard the other girls in your grade talk about. You had to make them for each other rather than make your own and you had to tie them around the other’s wrist while they closed their eyes and made a wish.

Some of the boys in school gave him shit for it, calling him names for wearing jewelry he got from the girl in the grade below them. He didn’t care though. After all, Eddie wasn’t one to change himself for the sake of fitting in and he loved his bracelet.

He laughed a bit in disbelief now as he looked down at the bracelet he made for you back in 1975. You remembered him? God, he hadn’t thought of you in forever. Not to be an ass, but because it got too painful.

Among all of the stress that night his dad was arrested, he had been so overwhelmed that he completely shutdown. He was quiet and his expression was numb as he answered questions and packed his things. He was apprehensive and apathetic when he was brought to his uncle he rarely saw, but he didn’t cry. And he never told anyone this, but he never cried until a random thought of not seeing his best friend anymore suddenly set him off while he was trying to sleep. That was what made him realize the reality of everything that occurred. He didn’t have his home anymore. He didn’t have his dad. He didn’t have anything other than a new guardian and a trailer with one bedroom that Wayne had to pull all of his stuff out of so Eddie could have it. And he didn’t have you.

He brought you up a few times, but eventually stopped when he realized how stressed Wayne got over the mention of a trip into Ohio. A trip that meant dipping into his funds—that were already starting to run spectacularly low now that he was responsible for an 11 year old—for the gas money and probably a fee at the state line. Likely a motel room too, if your parents didn’t let them stay at the house.

How did he not recognize you? The more he thought over your interaction, the more he recognized your eyes and the shape of your nose and the curve of your lips even if they were fuller now. Little things here and there that even as an adult made it easier to see the bits and pieces of how you used to look. Here he’s been sulking in all his misery and loneliness, and he had completely scared off the chance to have an old best friend back. And Linda said you had tears in your eyes?

Eddie groaned as he let his head sink forward and rest on the center of his steering wheel. He didn’t even care about the horn that permeated the still night around him as self deprecating thoughts swirled before finally letting up on the button. This groan wasn’t a useless cry to the sky over the state of his life like the others so far, but rather a display of anger at himself for being such a dick. And he couldn’t even fix it. He didn’t have your phone number. He didn’t know where you were staying, if you were even staying. Did you move here? Were you just driving through the state and thought to drop by? Maybe have lunch and catch up before leaving again?

Why did he always have to fuck everything up?

*

You spent a good portion of your weekend sulking until Martha dragged you out on Sunday. You had been eating all the food you brought with you alone in your room and only went outside when you craved your bad habit enough.

“This has to be a violation of a paying customer’s privacy…,” you groaned as you rolled over and shoved your face into your pillow to avoid the light coming in full force from the windows. Martha had unlocked your door and came in to throw the curtains open to pull you out of your post-humiliation funk.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We’re going on a walk to take it all in and I’m taking you to that diner I keep telling you about.”

“I could’ve been naked. What if you came charging in here and I was laying here naked? Neither of us would’ve recovered. And our friendship would be ruined.”

“Oh don’t be so childish,” Martha huffed, hands on her hips. For an older woman she sure could be spritely when she wanted to be—whipping around your room the way she had been and insisting on a journey into the outdoors.

“It’s too cold.”

“Not when we start moving. It’s not even Autumn yet.”

“Technically the first day of Fall has already passed,” you corrected, still face planting your pillow and raising your hand up as you made your point before dropping it back down.

“Well the cold hasn’t reached us yet. I think you’ll survive. Come on, dear, it’ll be good for you. Good for both of us. I’m always cooped up at that desk.”

You sigh, but stay in your bed with all your plans set on sulking until the end of time. Until you were a pile of dust she was vacuuming up so she could get the room ready for someone else. Maybe you were being a tad dramatic, but you still felt that way.

“You want me to wake you up the way Howard did with our daughter? When she wouldn’t get up for high school?”

Now groaning at the thought of that cup of ice cold water trick she told you about, you huff and you finally force yourself up.

Despite your initial refusal to get out of bed, you were glad that Martha made you. It really was a wonderful morning and the smell of fresh air and the sound of the occasional leaf crunching under your feet refreshed you. Even with how deeply you despised being lonely, you had a habit of isolating yourself when you were upset and it could be quite destructive at times when you didn’t have someone to pull you back out of it. She didn’t even force you to discuss Thursday, just kept up casual chit chat like always.

And even if that walk hadn’t been enough to begin lifting your spirits, the food at the diner certainly would’ve done the trick all on its own. It wasn’t the prettiest joint around, but the breakfast was phenomenal. You wondered if she picked up on the fact that food and eating with others was a part of your love language. Being introduced to such an amazing local restaurant that clearly meant a lot to her soothed your aches of rejection and mortification.

Both aspects of the morning Martha forced you to take part in actually helped to improve your mood. What happened still stung but it was less “end of the world” and a little more “bump in the road.” With the fresh air, breakfast food and Martha’s pep talks—you were thinking of your next couple of steps forward rather than all the doom and gloom. You’d attempt to quit all the fast food that only left you more sluggish, and start finding other things to pay attention to. You weren’t giving up on Eddie, but you had to focus on your other needs again. This meant getting out of bed. Eating something other than cheeseburgers and fries, promising Martha you’d get other food Monday.

Well, maybe not Monday. You may have caved again, but you swore the next day. So on that following Tuesday night, you were at the market to pick up some things for you and Martha. There was a small fridge and a cabinet in your room that you could keep things in, and you offered to pick up anything she needed while you were out.

Peanut butter for you, cans of soup for her—oh, actually soup sounded good. With your sudden craving, you grabbed a few more cans. Milk for both of you, as well as cereal. Microwave meals for you, sardines for her—

Oh gross, sardines?

—Could you even stay friends at this revelation? You supposed you could since she let you bother her even with your fast food she couldn’t stand. But this fact wasn’t going anywhere. You were going to give her your best, most dramatic yuck when you gave her her groceries and you would have to insist that she never eats them where you can smell them.

You moved on through the list, and pushed your cart that fought you every step of the way to the bread and baked goods aisle. Why did you always get the cart with the squeaky wheel? The one that stuck every now and then and dragged against the linoleum before finally returning to a squealing roll? Bad luck, you supposed.

Once you were in the aisle, you double checked what brand she requested before letting out a sigh. Of course they were the loaves that were neatly stacked on the top shelf. Notepad paper crushed between your hand and the shelf you were using for support, you stretched up onto your tiptoes as best as you could to grab for one. You could easily grab the pinched end of one and just tug, but you didn’t want to accidentally squish any of them or make any of the others go tumbling. You’re about to step on the bottom shelf when suddenly a hand much larger than yours littered with heavy rings was grabbing it either from you like a dick or for you like a gentleman.

“Still short, huh?” You heard the rough, tired voice say from beside you.

You settled back on your feet and glanced at the man holding out the loaf of bread for you. He was in those dirty coveralls again with the sleeves rolled up, clearly from when he had taken the time to clean his hands and forearms before leaving his shift. His hair was out of its ponytail now so you could see it in all of its chaotic glory. As you accepted his kindness for Martha’s sake, you did your best to tamper your reaction to him being here. Whether it was any excitement over him possibly trying to fix things; or if it was intrigue over how his hair got so long and the fact that he had tattoos now; or if it was irritation leftover from how he treated you last Thursday. Had you still been familiar with one another, and this had been a small spat between friends, you probably would’ve just punched his arm.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” You mutter. Okay so trying to keep a neutral stance wasn’t going very well.

You hear him exhale a quick sigh at your words and the way you refused to look at him. You had one elbow leaning against your cart now while you put all your focus on toying with the piece of paper in your hands. Folding and unfolding, smoothing out creases, lining up the edges of the paper and fixing the previous fold so everything fits better.

“No,” he replied in a defeated tone, but you still weren’t looking at him. “‘N I’m sorry about that, okay? Just wasn’t expecting it, and it’s not like you’re 9 anymore.”

“So I’m guessing you recognize me now?”

“A little, yeah,” He tried to be playful, a small smile tugging on his features until you looked up at him with that sad expression and he was deflated again. “Joke. Bad joke, I- of course I recognize you, Critter.”

You failed in your attempt to not smile at the nickname you hadn’t heard in far too long, making Eddie straighten out his posture again at the sight of your lips curving up.

“You still don’t have a poker face. That right there?” He points at your smile, while his own pulled at his lips “That’s how I won all of your best candy bars on Halloween.”

“You never really kept them from me,” You countered, head tilting back to fully look up at him now and your smile a little more sure.

“Of course not. Cause I’m a sucker and you can get whatever you want with a pout,” He laughed and you grew bashful as your cheeks flushed, ducking your head back down to try and hide it.

“Here,” Eddie sighed after a beat, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet to drop in your palm.

Figuring he was returning yours to you, you were confused when you didn’t see your usual mix of beads. Your brows stayed knit together until you recognized those red, blue and black beads and the nickname in the center. Your features softened as you held out your hand for him to drop it into.

L-O-O-G-I-E

“You kept it…?” you murmured as you stared at the plastic bracelet like it’s treasure, before looking up at him again while your fingers brushed over the beads.

“Obviously,” he replied bluntly, pointing at it.

“Completely tore my place apart to find it so I could prove it, too. Not that my place is the neatest to start with, but…,” he let out a light laugh, head tilting and lazy smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He still smiled the same.

You eyed him for a moment, then returned your focus to the old jewelry. You felt oddly reserved with him after his initial reaction to your appearance at his work, and all the time you spent apart. You never had to work up the courage to speak to him before, or think about what to say or how to say it.

“10.”

“…Hm?”

“I was 10 years old. You said I wasn’t exactly 9 anymore, but it was actually a few weeks out from my birthday when you had to leave.”

“I guess that’s true, huh?” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why were his arms so fit? And veiny? And why do you have to tilt your head back to see his face now? Ugh, you’re starting to feel like that young girl who read her first romance novel and was developing her first crushes.

“Yeah…,” you say simply, fearing you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try to say more.

“I’m sorry that all happened around your birthday.”

He was so sincere when he said it, but it made your eyes grow wide as you looked up at his face again.

“Oh god– no. No, no, no. Don’t apologize. That’s not how I meant that at all. You-- that wasn’t your fault. And it was worse for you than it was for me, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, with the convict dad and all. But it’s a real shame…,” he sighs with feigned disappointment. “Y’know… that you couldn’t kiss me on your birthday.”

That evil grin sunk his dimples into his cheeks and he sucked on his teeth while he clasped his hands behind his back. Your eyes might as well have been popping out of your skull at this point, your whole face heating up.

“I— you— how— oh, you dick!” you gasp at the revelation through all of your sputtering and punch his shoulder without even thinking, and certainly not noticing the elderly woman who huffed at your unladylike behavior before scuttling away. “You read my diary!”

“Yeah, well, you really should’ve gotten the kind that came with a lock.”

“So you don’t recognize me, but you remember a journal entry you shouldn’t have read? Great, that’s great, Eddie.”

You were turning around now, starting to push your cart towards the other end of the aisle. Roll. Squeak. Maybe it was time to head back to Ohio? Maybe you didn’t need such an obnoxious little shit back in your life. Drag. Roll. Squeak.

“I said I was sorry for not recognizing you,” he groaned and followed after you. “How much groveling am I gonna have to do?”

Oh, plenty. Plenty of groveling.

*

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k

@eddiesprincess86

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #bsf!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #desiderium part 2 #desiderium eddiessluttywaist #eddiessluttywaist #eddie munson angst #slow burn #slow burn eddie munson #desiderium series

[eddieexcellence]

SOUR CANDY

Part iii: code red

E. Munson x fem!reader

Synopsis: back in Hawkins for spring break, the reader is back from college. She gets sucked into the madness again for the fourth time with her best friend and younger friends. Plus an unexpected and unwelcome face.

Type: fixit fic, angst/comfort, enemies to lovers trope

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: cursing, pining, lil sis!max, bsf!steve, backstory backstory backstory

A/n: I told y’all it was going to be a long part!! the support from everyone has been amazing and I’m so glad you all like it! I’m sorry the actual reader x Eddie is slow but it’s about to get gooood! I swear bear w me, I also just love involving the platonic bits too!!! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥹

“Y/n? Code red! Do you copy? Code red! Y/n!” A frantic Dustin kept repeating on the other line of the walkie. You hadn’t realized you dozed off reading the boys campaign book, waiting for something to involve you. It was late in the evening, and your room is dark now.

You grabbed your walkie with your eyes still closed and laid flat on your bed. Lazily clicking the button to speak.

“What’s going on?” You asked sleepily.

“Aw Dusty you awoke the Princess.” Eddie chimed in from where he was with his walkie.

You scowled, opening your eyes and sitting up. “Look whoever’s wise idea was to let Munson have a walkie, I hate you.” You snapped. Though you didn’t mean to nap, you weren’t happy to be woken up, even if it’s for a code red. The unpleasant snark of Eddie not welcomed either.

“C’mon Y/n that’s all you care about when we have a code red?” Steve practically whined from the speaker. “Just get to Nancy’s please. Bring a bag too.”

“Fine, fine,” you groaned as you got up.

“Yeah Y/n a code red,” Eddie snickered, mimicking Steve.

“Munson, I will restrict walkie privileges!” Steve told him sternly through the channel.

Packing your Upside Down survival box as you called it, along with everything you took from Nancy’s house earlier plus some clothes too in a bookbag.

Walking down the stairs into the kitchen, your house lights off still, telling you your parents weren’t home yet. So you left a haphazardly note for your parents whenever they came in from wherever.

‘Got home early, know what’s going on, spending the night at the Wheelers so I’m not by myself. Love you xoxo Y/n’ that would suffice. At least they knew where you’re supposed to be. You never knew where you'd end up once you got to the destination you’re supposed to be at.

You lived right down the street from the Wheelers so the drive was quick and easy, and you were grateful that it seemed Nancy’s parents were already in bed with most of the lights off in the house besides the kitchen.

Dustin greeted you at the front door tapping a foot impatiently.

“You are horrible at responding to code reds.” He scolded.

“Okay Dad, but when has any one of us been good with code reds?” You stood there for a moment as he had to genuinely think about it. You smiled, taking a hold of the brim of his hat and shoving it down further on his head covering his eyes. “Exactly, Henderson.” Your smile turned into a smirk as you waltzed past him.

“I’m gonna blacklist you as a babysitter in this town when this is all done and over with, damnit Y/n!” He adjusted his hat as he followed you to the basement.

Sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows were everywhere in the basement as everyone sat at a designated bedding area. Max patted the empty spot by her on the couch. She had a pair of headphones over her ears and a Walkman in her lap.

“What’s all this about?” You asked.

Max paused her music, and slid her headphones off. Nancy handed you her notebook, you looked down reading as she started to talk. “We found a way to prolong Vecna’s curse.” She stated.

“Music, more specifically the victim’s favorite song.” Robin added.

You looked over to the teenage girl beside you, your eyes soft feeling a pang in your heart. What did you miss today? Maybe you did need to respond better to code reds. “Is that why you have your Walkman?”

The redhead nodded, her lower lip trembled slightly. “He almost got me, I was able to out run him though with the help of Kate Bush.” You stopped mid skim through the notes Nance was able to get while at the asylum. That was an interesting pick for the young teenager. You peered over at her and noticed her cheeks slightly rosy and her bouncing her knee anxiously.

Max could tell you wanted to talk more about it so she mouthed ‘later’ to you, you nodded in return looking back at the notes.

“I can’t believe you actually got to talk to Victor Creel.” You visibly shuddered at the thought, handing the notes back to Nancy.

“I-it was something else.” Robin said breathlessly as Steve and Lucas came down with snacks and drinks and took their spots.

Nancy and Robin hadn’t filled everyone in until you got there, telling everything that happened passing the notes around. They were cryptic and eerie even if it was written in Nancy’s perfect handwriting.

Everyone had felt a bit more hopeful with the idea there was a way to keep Max safe. At least until you could actually defeat him.

“I think we should take turns on Max watch, just because we have a temporary solution that’s all it is—temporary. We don’t know how full proof it is yet.” You suggested, and everyone agreed.

“Yeah, every two hours we can switch.” Nancy added. “Y/n you mind going first?” She asked, you shook your head.

“Not at all,” you were about to get off to give Max more room, but she grabbed your wrist.

“You can stay, please?” She looked at you, her mouth twitching nervously.

“Are you telling or asking?” You teased gently moving over to give her more room to lay comfortably.

“Sorry,” her voice mousy. You just smiled and put a blanket from the back of the couch around her.

“Goodnight everyone but Y/n!” Dustin called out from his spot by the console. Chorus of good nights came from everyone as you flipped Dustin off telling everyone goodnight. Even if you truly didn’t mind, he just had to be a smart ass.

Max had put her headphones back on, resuming her song and closing her eyes while resting on the other side of the couch.

You just sat there staring at the wall, replaying the past several hours. Max was in danger, and other than what you declared as Saint Kate Bush could help her with, there was still no solid idea to save her. That smidge of hope is barely a sliver now.

The chain reaction of events all started with someone you used to admire, had a crush on even, now someone you bitterly despise with every bone in your body. You honestly wondered what emotions Eddie was feeling. It had to have been scary not knowing what you witnessed, and that you couldn’t tell anyone. When you first witnessed something from the Upside Down you first went to Steve, and he looked at you like you had three heads not realizing anything yet.

It also had to been frustrating having to hide because you’re wanted for murder when you know you’re innocent. You thought if he might’ve needed clean clothes or food. He definitely had to need a hair brush. That dark mop of curls was probably so tangled. Or hell he probably needed some company. Eddie practically survived off social interaction, even if it was just to argue and bicker with you. You know you found your days much quieter at college when there wasn’t an Eddie Munson approaching you in the cafeteria to make fun of your outfit you had on or to brag about snagging the last Metallica vinyl or Iron Maiden cassette at the music shop with that mischievous twinkle in his big brown doe eyes aimed only at you to strike a nerve.

You could feel yourself get anxious over your racing thoughts. You reached for your bag grabbing the box of sour patch kids you had. You opened the box to start snacking on them.

“Why do you like those so much?” Max asked quietly, sitting up sliding her headphones off. Everyone else had fallen asleep leaving you two awake.

“Did I wake you?” You asked.

“No, it’s hard to sleep when there’s a synthesizer in your ear.” She smirked slightly, holding her hand out. You smiled plopping a few candies in her hand. “Now why do you like Sour Patch Kids so much?”

You bit your lip and shrugged, “I don’t know I tried them in middle school, kind of became my favorite. The sourness can distract me if I’m anxious or if I’m nervous. Odd habit to take the edge off I know.” You said looking down at the box laughing to yourself.

“Do you remember when you specifically first tried them?” She asked curiously. Of course you did more than you cared to admit.

It had been a particularly bad day for you in the 6th grade. Your mom was nagging at you because you had received a bad grade on a test and you didn't do a chore properly. You had just finished your homework at the dining room table, your parents were upstairs arguing about something again. Hearing the shouting from upstairs, you snuck a $5 bill out of your moms purse that was on the counter before shoving some pencils, your sketch pad, and your Walkman in your bookbag taking off on your bike to the gas station. Then to the park to sit at the picnic tables to draw for however long it would take before you dad would come find you. You listened to one of your dads Black Sabbath cassettes he most likely forgot he owned, humming along mindlessly sketching whatever came to your mind.

“Hey you’re in my art class!” A boy, a couple years older than you, approached the picnic table. You looked up taking your headphones off. He took this as an offer to sit across from you. He had a quite grown out buzz cut, the ends slightly curling making his hair resemble a hedgehog almost. His eyes, a deep chocolate color matching his hair, and a toothy dimpled crooked smile. “I’m Eddie if you didn’t know.” He was chewing on some candy as he spoke.

You smiled back, “Y/n.” You politely stuck out your hand for him to shake.

“Oh you want some?” He asked oblivious to your handshake, offering some of his candy. “Fair warning they are sour.” He had to chew a new one and make a face to demonstrate. This caused you to giggle, letting him give you some.

“This isn't poisoned?” Your lashes fluttered up at him inquisitively.

“Do you think I’d be kicking still if they were poisoned?” He asked dramatically standing on the picnic bench and stepping on to the table, careful to not ruin your things while scuffing his beat up Nikes against the wooden table. “That would be metal though! But I swear on my Uncle Wayne they’re not!”

You grinned widely at his antics, trusting the candy and trying some. You made a face at how sour it was, but they were so good.

That was also the day you learned you liked a lot of the same music. You two had even swapped cassettes, your Black Sabbath for his Iron Maiden, and you two promised to give them back in art class. That’s when you started to sit next to each other, scribbling each other notes when the teacher wasn’t looking. You’d even help him with his art assignments when the teacher snack was turned to help him get a better grade.

You popped another candy into your mouth, “Eddie showed me them when I was in 6th grade.”

Max's eyes lit up, “no way!” She gasped quietly. You just nodded, kind of embarrassed. She wanted to ask so many questions, but knew from what Steve had told her it was a touchy subject for you.

Luckily, you didn’t want to be reminded by another pleasant memory of your former friendship with Munson, and you already thought of soft enough thoughts prior about him.

So you deflected, “so Kate Bush? What song?”

Max blushed slightly, “I don’t know if you remember. It was a couple days before you went to college, and El and the Byers just moved. You tried to take me mini golfing and to get ice cream to get my mind off things.” You already had a fond smile on your face knowing what day she was talking about.

“Running up That Hill came on, you were dancing to it trying to get me to laugh, even compared the little keyboard notes to dogs barking and barking along to it.” She laughed when she mentioned it, though when it happened she still had watery eyes and a frown on her face looking straight at the road. It was still one of her favorite memories since she moved to Hawkins.

There were a couple of memories that went through her mind when she thought Vecna really had her, a couple others including you. As soon as the song played in the graveyard that was the happy memory that willed her to break free and start running.

“I-I never got to thank you before you left for college.” Her voice cracked and you can see in the dim light from the desk lamp at the other side of the basement her eyes had filled with tears. “Not just for that day, but everything you’ve done for me. A-and saving me the night B-Billy died, and trying to hide me from seeing the mind flayer destroy,”

Before she could finish you pulled her in your arms, shushing her. She got the hint and was grateful you didn’t want her to finish her sentence. You hated that memory as equally as she did, you were half alive but used your last bit of energy to throw yourself on her so she couldn’t see as well when Billy jumped in front of El. It was one of the worst nights of your life.

Max furiously wiped at her eyes, hating the fact she seemed to only cry nowadays. You yourself were tearing up and you tried to bid them away. “Anyway, I know you didn’t watch me like you did with the boys growing up, but I appreciate you still cared for me like you did with them. A-and thank you for showing me my favorite song.” She then reached for something out her pocket handing it to you. An envelope with your name on it. You went to open it, but she stopped you holding your hand. “It’s a fail-safe if y’know.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, “no.” You put the envelope on the other side of you. “No fail-safes, we’re saving you, we’re saving Hawkins, and we’re going to clear Eddie’s name.” Max pulled you into a hug one last time before she slipped her headphones back on. Before clicking play to the song she paused.

“Y/n?”

You looked at her sniffling trying to hide your emotions with a small smile. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for what happened between you and Eddie.”

Your smile dropped, “what do you mean?”

“If things didn’t end up the way they did, maybe you two would’ve been really good for each other?” She yawned, clicking play to her music laying back down. What was that supposed to mean? ‘The way they did’ What did she know? You never told the kids what happened between you and Eddie.

You waited until Max could be heard softly snoring before you scanned the room. Your eyes fell on the person that would know and has been around the kids most other than you. You walked over to where Steve was sleeping, and flicked his temple. He groaned lightly.

“Harrington get up.”

“It’s been two hours already?” He asked you.

“Nope we need to talk.” You grabbed his arm, dragging him up.

“Y/n! What the hell!” He whisper shouted at you as you dragged him to the far corner of the basement away from everyone else. “What is going on?”

“Did you tell the kids about freshman year?” You demanded your hands on your hips.

“W-what no, noo.” He mirrored your stature, laughing nervously. “What would make you ever say that?”

“Hm I don’t know, maybe Max full on momming me and giving a pardon of what happened between Eddie and I!” You were freaking out. “Two of those three kids idolize Eddie! That story isn’t meant for their ears!” You persisted. Not only that, you didn’t want the embarrassment and wounds of you actually thinking you could’ve had a shot with Eddie in a past life to be brought to light. The goody two shoes liking president of the Hellfire Club, what a cliche. “They’re gonna think everything so differently! The story sounds so misconstrued!”

“You know what Y/n?” Steve looked at you before looking towards Dustin, Max, and Lucas sleeping. “Maybe two of those three kids idolize Eddie, but three of three idolize you more! They care about you, they think you’re cooler than me!” He then pulled your elbow slightly to look directly at Lucas.

“Lucas was one step closer to becoming you after Eddie destroyed your ego. He was hanging with Jason Carver and all of them idiots. He didn’t want to be bullied anymore. But he turned his back on them, because he cared about Max and Eddie more. You know what could’ve helped avoid those assholes in the first place?” He asked you rhetorically.

“Maybe your badass stories of how you never gave a fuck what people what they thought about you. You were always your own person. You didn’t care what the upperclassmen thought of you when you wanted to ask him to the dance. Even though he misunderstood and rejected you, if Lucas maybe heard the story sooner he wouldn’t have been so afraid to be himself. You’re the goody two shoes babysitter that loves metal and has the mouth of a sailor and your mind in the gutter. You spit on Billy Hargrove’s shoe within knowing Max for a couple days.”

“And you know what, I care about you, you’re my annoying best friend. I don't understand why you tried to hide your stories from the kids. They’re not going to think of you any differently or Eddie any differently.” He looked into your eyes, holding your shoulders gently. “Stop bottling it in for once, and feel something other than salt in your wounds?” You nodded dumbly as he pulled you into his arms.

“Steve?” You wrapped your arms around him, the first time you two had hugged since you’ve been home. It was a nice feeling you couldn’t lie. The last time you hugged like this was when he had picked up from the hospital after Starcourt.

“Hm?”

“When did you get a big brain and put your big boy pants on?” You sniffled, breaking the serious tension between you two.

“When your common sense went out the window in college.”

You pulled away grinning, “it did not!”

“Oh I’m sorry, summer before sophomore year.” He corrected and you gasped. “Kidding, kidding!” He blocked his arm as you went to slap him. “I’ll take Max watch so you can have my spot to sleep.”

“Wheeler!”

“Dustin!”

“Anyone?” Eddie’s voice clicked on and off through the walkie.

You sat up straighter from the chair you were slumped in, wincing as your back cracked. You looked around, and Steve was still sleeping along with Lucas. Dustin, Max, and Nancy were gone.

“Hellooo, code orange? At least an eta of when I can get a food delivery?” Eddie asked.

You bit your lip contemplating before you hesitantly picked up the walkie from the coffee table.

“What are you on about Munson?” You asked.

“Ah the knight in shining princess!” He chirped. “I asked Wheeler for a food delivery and a six pack, but she rushed off before she could really say much more.”

“Do you now expect me to deliver that to you?” You inquired almost bemused.

“I mean if you want me to compromise the plan, I could totally go out and get it myself.” He jeered back.

You rolled your eyes, “let’s not do that. You still like honeycombs?”

“Yes, and Pabst blue ribbon for choice of beer as well.” He chimed in.

Your thoughts went back to what you were thinking about last night, and before you could stop yourself you had asked, “did you need any clothes or a hair brush?”

“Oh trying to spoil me? That would be a bonus if you can get past the crime scene tape of my trailer.” You now wish you didn’t say that.

You scoffed, “I’ll see what I can do. Be there as soon as possible.”

“You’re a lifesaver, sweetheart.” There was no malice in the way he called you sweetheart or in the whole sentence at all. In fact there was only gratitude and relief.

You couldn’t help to feel a skip in your heart and a rush flutter in your stomach, the last time you felt that by Eddie was freshman year. He had complimented your outfit, and even noticed how you had your hair pinned back. He had called you sweetheart then too. It was weird associating butterflies with Eddie, he still made your heart skip a beat. When you waited for a comeback from him or you saw him in the halls ready to walk past him so you would tug a piece of his curly locks to annoy him. The butterflies were different.

You grabbed your bag, and shook Steve slightly.

“Steve, I just need to run an errand, I’ll be back soon.” You told him and he just grumbled turning slightly in his chair.

You were going to regret this, you just know it.

taglist: @sunfairyy @eddiemunson4ever @babygirlwilly @creme-delacreme @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @flicksturz

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x bsf!reader #bsf!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader #sour candy fic

[eddiesghxst]

A LIST OF ALL MY TINY LITTLE BLURBS &lt;3

————

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+ — MINORS DNI

(*) indicates smut

(✩) indicates fluff

(✶) indicates dark themes

-masterlist-

HARRY STYLES

demon hunter!harry x angel!reader*

demon hunter!harry mocking angel!reader*

demon hunter!harry takes angels virginity*

demon hunter!harry introduces angel to hickeys*

you give harry head in the shower and he washes your hair*

harry accidentally gets too rough*✩

NATASHA ROMANOFF

princess!nat eating you out*✩

princess!nat fingering you on her throne*

EDDIE MUNSON

eddie likes steve’s mean older stepsister, aka you

eddie has to tie his hair back when you sit on his face*

eddie’s a boob guy*✩

eddie’s a boob guy (pierced nips edition)*✩

eddie is a chronic napper (sleepy boy eddie)✩

more boob guy eddie✩

loser!eddie cums quickly*

loser!eddie making up for cumming too quickly*

eddie x virgin!reader*✩

more eddie x virgin!reader*

having a summer fling with eddie*✩

eddie x chubby!reader*✩

eddie steals your shampoo✩

eddie likes giving hickeys*

truck driver!eddie idea

more truck driver!eddie

eddie doesn’t tell anyone he has a girlfriend✩

perv!eddie x innocent best friend!reader*✶

eddie’s got sticky fingers (he likes to steal take things)✩

eddie being goofy during sex*✩

eddie gets nervous when he likes someone✩

eddie’s clumsy during sex*✩

eddie’s hopeless with women and he really likes you*

eddie finds out you have a clit piercing*

you find bsf!perv!eddie’s secret box dedicated to you*✶

steve and robin find bsf!perv!eddie’s box dedicated to you*

steve watches bsf!perv!eddie fuck you*

bsf!perv!eddie really likes you*

single dad!eddie takes his daughter to get a haircut and you’re her hairdresser✩

eddie’s trailer is loud during storms✩

eddie overhears you complaining about never cumming with a man*

eddie is protective over you✩

eddie jacking off in the restroom during a sleepover with you*

bsf!perv!eddie being lovesick✩

eddie fucking you from behind and pulling your hair*

eddie fucks you doggystyle fresh out of the shower*

bsf!perv!eddie gets love boners for you*✩

bf!eddie being cute and in love✩

older!eddie has a bad back but he likes fucking you*✩

soft dom!eddie vibes idk*✩

eddie making you squirt while fucking you from behind*

exhibitionism with eddie during movie night with the older gang*

period sex with eddie*

eddie will eat you out under any circumstance (even if you're all sweaty)*

eddie being petty to your little cousins during the holidays✩

you and summer!eddie fooling around on his bike*

eddie being nerdy n hot*

mechanic!eddie having an affinity for your shorts*

mermaid!reader gives virgin!pirate!eddie a blowjob/handy

STEVE HARRINGTON

steve cums a lot*

you and steve’s baby’s first word✩

bsf!steve is going through a dry spell so you help him out*

STEDDIE (steve harrington x eddie munson)

eddie doesn’t turn on the lights at night to see and steve hates it✩

steve and eddie show shy!reader how to give head*

part two of steddie teaching reader how to give head*

steddie x reader with dom!eddie*

#harry styles x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie #steddie x reader

[rustboxstarr]

ANGSTY blurb but happy ending.

Eddie x bsf!Reader

Cw: love confession 🥰, talk of porn haha, character death, weed, Eddie being rly fragile physically from the upside down.

When you deliver Wayne the news that Eddie passed, not telling him about the upside down you both clear out his room.

When you show up with heavy shoulders and tears prickling your eyes you find Wayne nursing a beer on the couch, multiple cans littering the coffee table. Wayne looks up at you with sad eyes and greets you.

For about an hour you sit and talk about Eddie, grazing the surface of how deeply his death hit you both finally you slap your knees and stand up taking a deep breath ready to tackle Eddies room.

“Alright kid” Wayne looks up at you, making no attempt to stand himself “this is what we’re gonna do, you’re gonna take that duffel bag, and you’re gonna go in first and take out all the weird shit you know he wouldn’t want me to see and then we’ll get started” Wayne manages a timid smile and a chuckle as you nod your head.

He can hear your broken sniffles and dampened sobs but smiles everytime he hears simple laughs at the stupid things you find.

Jesus Eddie how many pornos does a man need?? You think to yourself as you check under his bed to find two stacks, mostly featuring heavy metal.

You frown confused as you open his bedside table to find lube, tissues, some more magazines and.. pictures of you?? Pictures you knew he’d taken but never seen before.

Quite a few taken in particularly loose and small clothing, some you didn’t even realise he had taken with your back to him. Then it hit you no fuckin way was he like jerking off to these Jesus Christ. But as you continue to ponder over the photos the possibility of him maybe having a little crush on you crosses your mind. I mean you wouldn’t be jerking of to pictures of your best friend unless you liked them right? Normal porn would suffice otherwise wouldn’t it??

All this time you had been harbouring a bit so small crush on him and he felt the same way? You consider telling him, confronting him and maybe both admit your feelings untill you realise you can’t. Because he’s dead.

Occupying yourself with rooting through the rest of his stuff you distract yourself from thinking further on what could have been or the fact that Eddie wasn’t around anymore.

20 minutes later you walk out with the duffel bag filled with porn, weed, a ridiculous amount of bongs and some other things that were hidden from view that you thought might be embarrassing for Wayne to find.

Wayne tells you to take anything you want but obviously leave some for him so you end up walking with about half of Eddies room to your car, listening to a mixtape he’d labeled feeling the blues like some wimp, the name making you laugh but the music making you wallow in sadness as you drive home.

(Skipping ahead lolz sorry)

You had been told by Owens that Eddie had passed, everybody had mourned him, there was a funeral and everything, until suddenly almost two months after the whole endeavour a military van slowed outside of Steve’s house in the middle of the night to drop off a beaten, bruised, still slightly bleeding and limping Eddie.

Steve called you that night shouting at you to come over and by morning you were crying and laughing with a fragile Eddie in your arms.

It was 3 am and you were sprawled out on the couch, sat comfortably against the pillows while Eddies head rested in your lap, Steve asleep on the recliner next to the tv.

“So Munson” Eddie looked up at you as you whispered his name “you know me and Wayne went through your room” his eyes widened slightly as you spoke “don’t worry he didn’t see anything, he sent me in first” you chuckled as he relaxed “but dude! What normal human being needs that much spank bank material?!” You whisper shouted.

He chuckled embarrassed “hey you can’t say shit you have like so many sexy books on your self” you sneered at him “and under your bed” he grinned. “That’s normal, what isn’t however is the amount of pictures of your best friend hidden under dirty magazines” you raised your eyebrows.

Eddie sputtered “wha- I, I hadn’t- I didn’t get a chance to put them up” he explained “Mm sure” you couldn’t fight the smirk pulling at your lips “you’re such a wimp dude, should have just told me you liked me” you said proudly “what so I could embarrass myself and walk off with my tail between my legs?” “Hah! So you admit you’re the devil” you grin widely. Eddie only rolls his eyes “and no, if you would have just told me you would have gotten to hear it back you idiot”

“Yeah sure so funny” he rolled his eyes again turning to look away from you “omg you shithead I’m serious” you bring his attention back to you “also you’re like an actual moron, Robin screaming at how I had a crush on you while she was drunk wasn’t a tip off?”

“She was drunk! And hey you didn’t tell me, you’re a wimp too!” He whisper shouts “this is not about me” you turn away faking being nonchalant.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson headcanons #80s #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #StartWrites #StarrThinks #eddie munson x reader

[morwap]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

switch!eddie munson x switch!fem!reader | mini fic | NAV |

oral and fingering f!receiving, talk of p in v and not finishing, masturbating , bsf!eddie turning to bsf!fwb!eddie, public/in work space, hair pulling, m!jerking off,

walking in late to the music store you started working at not too long ago, a job you found magically when your mom said to get a job or get your ass to college, then taking the idea to work there to your best friend, eddie munson. mainly doing it because you didnt want to work there with no friends and who would be better than eddie to work at a music shop? no one absolutely no one.

seeing eddie at the register checking someone out and trying to sell them some pins for a discounted price. tiredly rubbing your eyes as you went behind the counter and put your bag in the spot you made for it under the counter.

eddie gave up on the pins and handed them their bag and waved them off, spinning around and leaning back against the counter.

“so what had you so late sunshine?” eddie asked, tilting his head a bit before he started tapping his fingers on the wood.

“slept through my alarm” you admitted. it was true, you did over sleep but you wouldn’t have if the guy you had over to help “destress” you actually did the job and not waste your time.

furrowing his brows almost like he didn’t believe you but eventually he shrugged and let the conversation go. hearing a chime from the front of the store bringing yours and eddie’s attention to the few customers that walked in.

it was a busy day which didnt help you one bit, you were still tired and frustrated. you cursed yourself for being excited for your little “date” earlier that day, well you were mainly excited to get off since it had been a while and you both agreed it would be just sex so what else was there to be excited about.

even eddie asked why you were in a rush to get home after your shift and with eddie being your best friend, you told him about the guy that was coming over.

hours passed and customers came and went, luckily none of them were rude and they all just got what they wanted and left.

now it was getting late, yours and eddies shift almost over just 45 minutes left before you could go home and eat dinner, get off on your own, shower then straight to bed.

“didnt you have someone over last night?” eddie asked, you looked over at him as you were folding shirts and putting them in their designated little cubby. eddie was putting some new records the shop got just got last weekend in their designated places.

“yeah i did” you laughed dryly, sighing as you picked up another shirt and started folding it. you could feel eddies eyes on you.

“oh god, what happened?” he asked while not being able to hold in his laughter, knowing it must of been bad to get that reaction out of you.

putting the last shirt away, you walked over to behind the counter and pulled out patches and pins from underneath it. you shook your head and laughed before running your hands down your face.

eddie made his way to the counter, leaning on his elbows on it. “that bad? c’mon you gotta tell me now” eddie whined with a smile.

“it was awful— i mean first he came over like three hours late and it was already like two AM, then after a bit we were making out and then he put his hands in my pants and wasnt even rubbing my clit and i tried to move his hand there but he’d move it back—“ you rambled, leaning on the counter and resting your chin on your palm. “—then when we were actually doing it, he maybe thrusted like three times before he came and pulled out and asked if i came” you huffed.

eddie’s mouth was wide open and eyes big, “you’re kidding” he gasped, running a hand through his hair as he took in your awful night.

you shook your head, “i fucking wish, i just didn’t answer and told him he need to leave and took a shower and went to bed. it sucks because i was really looking forward to hooking up with him after being stressed out all week” you sighed, looking at eddie and seeing a mischievous glint in his eyes and smirk formed on his face.

“you didn’t even get yourself off? that why you’ve been so pent up today?” eddie asked, you nodded sheepishly.

eddie looked back at the door then to you, “what if i go down on you and fix your problem, you know best friends helping each other out” he suggests, moving his hands up with shrug and lifting a brow.

you couldn’t help but laugh, thinking he was joking and there was still a couple minutes till closing.

“im serious, i mean you could call up whatever his fucking name again but i highly doubt he’ll make you cum since he had so much trouble with it the first time” eddie teased and you tried to tell if he was fucking with you or not.

“right now and here?”

“yeah, right now, right here”

“alright, fuck it” you said, nodding a bit.

eddie smiled, turning and walking over to the door and flipping the sign to closed and locking the door before coming back and around the counter to where you were.

you were about to start undoing your jeans but eddie smacked your hands out the way, doing it himself before smashing his lips onto yours. his fingers sliding the zipper down quickly. moving his hand into your pants, over your panties just teasing you with his middle finger.

eddies other hand pushed you to lean back a bit against the counter, french kissing you like there was no tomorrow, like there wasn’t a camera pointed at the two of you. eddie’s jeans growing tighter by the second.

you moaned into his mouth as his fingers put more pressure and moved back and forth a bit on your slit.

soon eddie let you go, taking his hand from your pants and then using both to pull your pants down along with your panties. getting on his knees and looking up at you before moving his hand back to your cunt, swiping through your folds and spreading you wetness around then teasing your entrance and just slightly pushing his finger in.

“starting off my bucket list strong sunshine, been wanting to do this forever” eddie said with a laugh.

“going down your best friend or going down on someone in pubic?” you asked teasingly, your fingers gripping at the edge of the counter.

“both”

his mouth soon went to your cunt, using his tongue to stimulate your clit as his fingers were slowing making their way inside you. moaning when his tongue first made contact, making eddies eyes close as he listened to you.

you tried to be quiet-ish knowing that the back connected to the store next door and the wall weren’t very thick or sound proof.

eddie’s middle finger was moving in and out of you now, he was about to try two fingers as his tongue swirled over your clit which earned a hand full of gasps and swears from you and eddie was fully aware of his aching cock fighting against the tight material of his jeans.

your hand went into eddies hair, pulling out of his face and your fingers laced through it and tugged a bit causing eddie to moan against your clit and try to get you to do it again.

eddies free hand moved down to his own zipper, moving it down and undoing the button. he squeezed his cock over his boxers before putting his hand into his boxers and touching himself.

slipping a second finger into you and sucking on your clit, you pushing his face closer to you. letting your head roll back as the angle made sparks start in your body, the feeling that you’ve been trying to achieve since the beginning of the week and now you were relishing in it. the feeling never fading or being lost then coming back it was staying and getting stronger and you knew part of why it felt so good was because it was eddie that was doing it.

this was like a dream come true since the beginning of your guys friendship you had a crush on him but pushed it down because you didn’t want to make things awkward but now eddie was going down on you, using his mouth and fingers to pleasure you. eddie fucking munson, your best friend.

you tugged on his hair a bit harder than the first time making him moan once again, his tongue moving faster on your and his two fingers were so deep, deeper than you would’ve gotten if he never purposed this idea.

eddie was in bliss, your moans, your taste and the way you pulled on his hair had him high. his hand went faster on his cock, adding more pressure when he got to his tip then going back down, using his own precum to lube up his hand.

you glanced down and noticed eddie was enjoying this just as much as you were, you watching his arm move from moving his hand on his cock. tugging hard on his hair once more and letting your eyes roll back and mouth falling open, knowing you were going to cum soon as they feeling started to build rapidly.

“oh fuck— eddie im cumming” you moaned out, hoping it didnt come out as just a random string of words as you were too focused on actually cumming. eddie’s fingers went faster and so did his tongue, drawing you to the edge and you let go.

a tear slipping from your eye as you came, hard. feeling eddie groan against you as he fucked into his hand faster.

eddies fingers moved out of you and gripped onto your thigh harshly as he moved his cock out of his boxers and came all over the floor. his tongue still moving on your clit and his eyes squeezed shut even harder as he grunted and still tried to lap at you.

his death grip only getting harder as he came, the last of his cum dripping from his slit onto the puddle onto the ground.

his tongue was getting too overstimulating, pulling him off your sensitive clit and his eyes opened, not even realizing he was still going as he was coming down from his high. moving back from your cunt as a string of spit still connected you two.

moving your hand from his hair to his mouth and swiping your thumb over his bottom lip, breaking the string. both of you panting, gazing at each other.

“thank you” you panted, watching eddie’s blush grow a bit darker.

“anytime” he said before putting himself back into his boxers and fixing up his pants.

pulling your underwear up and cringing at the feeling, your house wasn’t far from here at all so you’d survive, then came your jeans and now you wished you wore anything other than jeans.

you crouched down and grabbed napkins and cleaner, wiping up his mess, as he watched you with a smirk.

“i meant it you know, anytime” eddie said with a little nod, his hand coming to rub your arm. you smiled and threw a wadded up clean napkin at him.

“i know you meant it”

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things eddie #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie smut #morwaps.nsfw.

[darnell-la]

𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥

word count: 2.8k

pairing: Dom!Eddie Munson x Reader

Warning: warnings: 18+, smut, semi forced blowjob, public smut, oral sex, hair pulling, choking, in love with bsf, dom!eddie, sub!reader, fem!reader, and use of one of our authors name instead of y/n

summary: Scotlyn has been crushing on Eddie Munson for 3 years now. She’s been making life harder by becoming best friends with him while writing naughty love letters. She should have known that she couldn’t keep it a secret for long.

note: feel free to share, repost, like and comment!

DO NOT USE MY STORY IN ANY WAY UNLESS IT’S TO REPOST TO SHOW SUPPORT!! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION!!

————————————————————————

𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗧𝗟𝗬𝗡𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗩

I can't believe I've been writing these anonymous letters to Eddie since I was a freshman. He was the hottest Senior and you know freshmen. They just have to fall for the older guys.

But this guy, my feelings for him grew harder and harder. It's like every year I got lucky that he failed 12th grade until I was finally taking classes with him.

Now I'm a senior, almost 3 years younger than him, and in nearly all of his classes. I'm so lucky, yet, I haven't gathered the guts to ask him out or even flirt with him.

I've been putting myself in challenging situations like tutoring him, buying weed from him, helping out with his club, and even becoming best friends with him.

The only thing I can do that's close to flirting is write anonymous letters and place them in his locker. I'm 18 and still scared to speak to my crush of 3 years.

"Hey there, friends!" Eddie scarred me as he quickly grabbed my waist for a few seconds before letting go. "God! You bitch," I breathed as he laughed and sat across from me.

"I could have been eating and choked," I said. "You were too busy daydreaming," he said. He's not wrong, I was.

I was, yet again, about to go into another daydream session when he waved a letter in front of my face. God, it's from me. But he doesn't know that.

Another bad thing I did to myself questioning him about the letters he's been getting since freshman year. I asked him a good year ago and ever since then, he's been telling me everything I've been saying to him.

What's even worse is that he likes it. He keeps saying that someone like that is his dream partner. Someone who likes almost everything he likes.

"Dear Eddie. I knocally wear the same outfit every day but it keeps me in a chokehold every time. I imagine myself being held back after everyone leaves and being deeply fucked," Eddie said with a smirk.

"I'd take everything you give me, even if I can't take anymore. I'm meant for you. Why else would I be wet when you're around?" He said then grunted with a chuckle.

"Now that's something I can't wait to eat up. Imagine my girl wet around me all the time. That's my mess to clean up," Eddie started blabbering about different places he'd fix his girl's problem. My problems.

"Wait, Eddie, I need to go to the bathroom. I've been holding it since this morning," I said as I quickly got up and walked off which felt like I ran off.

I could feel his eyes on me but I can't look back or it'll be too obvious. He can't find out it's me. I wouldn't know what to say. I'd be stuck and embarrassed.

What doesn't make it better is that I know how Eddie is. He's a cocky flirting bastard. He'd tease me about it.

He already says things like "I wouldn't be surprised if it was you. Those other boys could be me," and he flirts but all boys do. Right?

"Hey, wait up!" Eddie said behind me. "Didn't you say you wanted some, you know what?" He asked me. "Oh shit, yes, yes, I did," I said as I went to pull out my money but he stopped me.

"Meet me at the bench," Eddie said, confusing me. "That's a far walk from my house, Eds," I annoyingly said.

"Then I'll drive you back home," he said. "Why can't you just pick me up? Or just give it to me at the house," I asked.

"Scotlyn, just meet me at the bench," Eddie said. He sounded a bit angry at my questioning. I walked away after rolling my eyes because he has me walking in the cold. Why did I pick to wear a skirt today?

Something in Eddie wanted to pull Scotlyn back by her hair and threaten her. Not in a bad way, of course, but something to put her in her place for asking too many questions and rolling her eyes with walking off without saying her goodbyes.

"Eddie!?" I asked as I walked through the woods. I hate being here and Eddie knows that. I also feel like I'm being watched. That's why I'm yelling Eddie's name throughout the woods.

After making it to the bench, I stood there and looked around, hoping Eddie would pop out. He's late and he's never late.

"You look cold," I heard Eddie say behind me. I jumped with a small scream and then turned around. "Eddie!" I yelled at him.

"What's going on with you? Been jumpy all day today," Eddie said as he walked around me and sat on the wooden table I was leaning on.

"Well, maybe, if you weren't jump-scaring me all day, I'd be fine," I said as he chuckled. "It's funny seeing you scared. Even a bit cute," he said as he looked at me for a few seconds then started taking his weed out of his lunch box.

"So, what do you want, princess?" He asked. I hate when he calls me that! Well, not really but you guys know what I mean.

"You know already, Eddie. Why did you even bring me out here? It's cold," I complained. "Not my fault you're wearing skimpy shit," Eddie said as he closed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I always wear skirts and shirts like this," I said. "I know," Eddie said as he placed his box down next to him. He turned his head to the side and looked at me as I scoffed.

"Anyways, it seems I forgot your order at my house. How about you come by tomorrow?" Eddie asked. "That's fine," I said.

"Before you go, write my new dealing address down on this paper," Eddie said as he pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of his pocket.

"You know my handwriting shit," Eddie said, making me giggle. "It's indeed is," I said. I couldn't help but notice his smile when I giggled. God, he's so perfect.

"You ready?" He asked and I nodded. He watched me closely as I wrote down his new address. I don't know why he's changing the spot. The last one was perfect.

After I was done, Eddie for some reason started laughing. "What's up with you?" I asked with a slight tone. Is he making fun of the way I write or something?

"You know what's been bothering me?" Eddie asked. "What? What's wrong?" I asked. His tone seems likeually bothered by something.

"It's nothing bad, it's just, the letter I got a little over a month ago, stuck in my mind. You know, from Mrs. perfect," Eddie said.

"I had a few scenarios about fucking in the woods now. I've never done it before. I'm sure it would be like the best sex ever," Eddie said and he was not lying. It would be. That's why I wrote the letter...

"Like she was talking about how she'd love to be used with no one around to hear," Eddie said as he got up from the table.

"What's funny is that the same handwriting that wrote that letter is on this little paper," Eddie said after grabbing the paper I just wrote on and waving it in my face before dropping it.

"W-What are you trying to say, Eddie?" I said as I backed up against the wooden table, knowing exactly what he was trying to say. How could I have been so stupid?

"What I'm trying to say is that my best friend's been writing these very inappropriate letters to me and watching me suffer through this sexual pain I've been feeling for years," Eddie said as he took a step towards me.

"Not Just the letters being written for me but knowing my best friend liked me since freshman year. Could have had something earlier, princess," Eddie said as he placed his right hand on my cheek to rub.

"Am I right?" He asked but I stayed silent, not wanting to admit to everything. "Am I?!" He asked again as he quickly grabbed my neck with his right hand which was just gently rubbing my cheek.

"Eddie, stop it," I muttered as I tried to unlatch his fingers around my throat but he gripped tighter. "Ah uh, you stay fucking still," Eddie said as he shook me a bit.

"You've been teasing me for 3 years and now you don't have the guts to admit to it. If I let you go, you'll forever deny it and continue being a teasing whore!" Eddie spat.

"I bet you're thinking about what you wrote. Being grabbed and fucked in the woods by me. You best friend. What a fucking slut, right? Isn't that fucking slutty!?" Eddie asked as he pmyled by face towards his. Now our nose is touching.

"I can't be mad at that though. All I can do is take advantage of it. Use it like you want me to," Eddie said, and a second later, he attached his lips to my neck and started sucking harshly.

"Eddie!" I moaned, already sounding out of breath as he grabbed my waist tightly with both of his big hands. His nails and ringcally digging into my skin, through my thin shirt.

"Fuck! I knew your moans would be sexy," Eddie grunted then went back to sucking my neck in a different area to give me more than one mark.

𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Eddie's been hard ever since he left school. He knew Scotlyn was the one writing the letters after she stormed out of the cafeteria earlier today. He just wanted to confirm it by matching the handwriting.

"Knees," he demanded as he stepped back and unbuckled his belt. "N-No, not out here," Scotlyn stuttered. She wants to but she can't just start like this. She didn't even get a chance to kiss him.

This is all happening so fast for Scotlyn but too slowly for Eddie. He can't do slow right now. Not when he's harder than a rock.

"Get on your fucking knees, Scotlyn!" Eddie yelled then unzipped his pants, hoping Scotlyn would finally come out of her shell and listen but she was frozen. Stuck in place.

"Since I already know how you want to be treated, I'll do it for you," Eddie grabbed a full hand of Scotlyn's hair and pulled her to her knees.

"Eddie!" Scotlyn shouted at how unexpected ruff he was being and that her knees might be a little scrapped up and dirty but Eddie didn't care because he knew, deep down, she didn't either.

Eddie quickly backhanded Scotlyn and then tugged on her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he bent over a bit.

"Don't you fucking yell at me," Eddie said, causing Scotlyn to stay quiet. She could tell by his tone that he was serious.

"You gonna suck me off or do I have to force my cock, balls deep down your windpipe?" Eddie asked, giving Scotlyn another chance to give in and accept but she was too slow.

Eddie grabbed his cock and with one thrust, pushed deep down into Scotlyn's throat, causing her to gag and tear up immediately.

"Christ!" Eddie groaned deeply as he stayed in place to take in the feeling of her thirst collapsing around his shaft and her whines. 

Eddie pulled out of Scotlyn's mouth to give her a short time to recover. He stroked and looked down at her, admiring his best friend's struggle to catch her breath.

"You look so beautiful, you know? So fucking beautiful," Eddie praised then pushed back into her mouth, and once again, she started gaging but he had to chase after his climax which is so close already. 

"Stop fucking it, baby," Eddie said as he rubbed a few tears from her cheek. "Eddie, Eddie," Scotlyn repeated but of course, it was muffled.

"Stop speaking, Scotlyn," Eddie said after bucking his knees. The vibrations that ran through his body, triggered some never. Something he's never felt before.

"Please, Eddie," Scotlyn begged which is still muffled. She doesn't want anything to stop but at the same time, she needs to catch her breath.

"Scotlyn, stop!" Eddie shouted as his knees bucked again but he couldn't hold his climax back. His legs shook as his load shot down Scotlyn's throat.

Eddie gripped Scotlyn's hair tightly and pushed himself deeper into her mouth, wanting to feel every last inch of enjoyment before he finally pulled out.

Scotlyn fell back to the ground as she caught her breath. Eddie leaned back onto the tables beside him and stroked himself as he caught his own.

"Breath, Scotlyn, just breath," Eddie said as he dropped down to his knees beside Scotlyn who was still coughing. He wasn't paying attention to how rough he was fucking her throat.

"Fuck, Scotlyn, I- Fuck. Let me get you to a hospital," Eddie said as he went to pick Scotlyn up but she pulled him back down but this time onto his back.

"No, no, I'm fine," Scotlyn quickly said as she climbed on top of him. "I'm fine," she said then smashed her lips onto his. Eddie hesitated at first but quickly understand what Scotlyn wanted.

Scotlyn pulled Eddie back out of his jeans after pulling her panties to the side. Eddie's breath hitched at his tip slightly touching her clit. He never thought he'd be this nervous with her. He always practiced being cocky.

"Fuck!" Eddie groaned as he tilted his head back. "Go slow, go slow! Y-You're so fucking tight," Eddie grabbed Scotlyn's waist tightly, causing her to whine and slam down, taking all of Eddie.

"Scotlyn!" Eddie moaned out. "I'm sorry. It's your hands," Scotlyn apologized, about to get off of him to let him breathe but Eddie gripped onto Scotlyn's waist and started fucking up into her.

"E-Eddie, wait," Scotlyn whined as she placed her hands on Eddie's chest to push herself which angered him, so he grabbed her neck and pulled her towards his face to keep her in place.

"You're gonna sit on my cock until I fuck my cum into you, so you understand?" Eddie asked, trying to give Scotlyn a chance to reply but she didn't.

"Do you understand!?" Eddie slammed balls deep into Scotlyn, causing her to cry out a reply. "Yes! Yes, I understand!" She sobbed in pleasure which caused Eddie to groan under his breath.

"That's what I wanna hear," Eddie said as he continued to fuck into Scotlyn. She had a hard time riding but she still managed.

"Never knew my best friend was this crazy over me. Fucking me in the woods. God, that's so hot. Do you know how hot that is, baby?" Eddie started blabbering.

"Fuck, I'm so pussy drunk right now," Eddie laughed in embarrassment as Scotlyn smiled down at him. "And I'm cock drunk for my best friend," Scotlyn said to make him feel less embarrassedreally? Thought I was the only one so down bad for my best friend," Eddie smirked up at Scotlyn as he traced his hands back to her ass grip it harshly.

"You know how much I look at you? Your ass is so fucking fat. Perfect tits and an angel face. God, how could I not fall for you?" Eddie praised, sending Scotlyn close.

"And now you're tightening around me. You have a praising and dominance kink, huh, do you?" Eddie asked, causing Scotlyn to blush. She's been caught.

"Yes, the princess does. So perfect. I'm a lucky man," Eddie's thrust started getting sloppy as Scotlyn tried her best to keep riding him but her knees soon gave out, causing her to collapse on top of Eddie.

"Cum on me, baby. Wanna feel your juice drip down my body. Wanna be covered all in your sweet juice," Eddie muttered in Scotlyn's ear which sent her over the edge.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Just like that," Eddie pushed Scotlyn's has down so that his cocked buried deep inside of her to shoot his warm and sticky load.

They both moaned and groaned as they came down from their intense orgasm. They both can say that they've never felt this good during and after sex before.

"Best friends to lovers or what?" Eddie managed to let out after taking a few deep breaths. "I don't think you'd let me choose anyways," Scotlyn replied.

"Good girl," Eddie smiled then gave Scotlyn a long peck on her lips. "Let's get to my place and clean up. I didn't know you'd maul me to the ground like a bear," Eddie joked as Scotlyn got off of him.

"Oh, shut up," Scotlyn laughed as Eddie fixed himself up and then helped Scotlyn. He loves how he can ruin her and then fix her. He's been wanting this fantasy for years and now he finally got it.

#dom!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #stranger things s5