#eddie fic

[pullhisteeth]

classified | eddie munson x reader

summary at your wits end, you put an ad in the classifieds for a special kind of tutor. Eddie finds it and takes you up on the offer. (nsfw) [13k]

contains smut (18+ minors dni!) – p in v sex, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, virgin!reader, fem!reader, hurt/comfort. eddie's a sweetheart, fluff, first time turned something more (?).

author's notes this one's a long one! the idea made me laugh and then it took on a life of its own. I want to say this is meant to be somewhat lighthearted and is not a suggestion that anyone should be having sex if they haven't already – your body's yours, baby, do whatever you want! no one should ever make you feel rushed into anything!!! anyway Eddie is an angel and I want one. bye!

-

Eddie's not sure why he's reading the newspaper. Boredom, perhaps; he's been waiting for Wayne to get home from his shift for over an hour. He's thought about calling the plant, but the walk from the couch to the phone seems to be the perfect amount of time to convince himself that he's probably on his way home already.

It's the Hawkins Post. It gets delivered by a snot-nose boy on a bike every week, thrown far too hard at their tin front door. Wayne reads it some weeks, others it gets used to wrap his lunch. Apparently this one he'd read it, flicked through the pages half-heartedly before leaving it open on a centrefold about the local elections. Trust Wayne to get bored of small-town politics, Eddie thinks.

So he picks up where Wayne left off, slowly pulling the pages apart, skimming stories about the endemic of teen pregnancy, or columns about the rejuvenation plans for downtown Hawkins. 

Finally, he reaches the only bit of the newspaper that Eddie has ever found interesting: the classifieds (and, on the back of the classifieds, the call-girl ads).

He skims them, eyes brushing past ads for cleaners, dog walkers, nannies. Finds the ones hidden at the bottom – the letters written in code, ads for attractive female friends and women seeking younger men. He's never actually interested in them, but they provide a glimpse into the underbelly of Hawkins, a small town that is, for all intents and purposes, entirely normal. But nowhere is ever truly normal, and Eddie likes to seize the opportunity to pry into the scandalous goings-on of his boring hometown.

He's reading one about swingers when the one beside it catches his eye. It's plain – whoever paid for it kept their costs to a minimum. All it says is:

WOMAN, 23, SEEKING FIRST TIME.

He stares at the bold ink, the statement in all caps that, despite being maybe the lowest cost ad in the whole paper – it's in a box about three inches tall in the very corner of the page – jumps out at him anyway. Underneath the title, it reads: young woman looking for judgement-free first time. Min. age 22, max. age 28. Must have experience. At the very bottom, in almost imperceptible print, is a phone number.

Eddie hadn't realised how close his face was to the page until he hears the familiar sound of Wayne's car pull up outside. He throws the paper down onto his lap and sighs before scrambling around to at least try to look casual, and not like all the blood has rushed to his face. In the few seconds he has between the sound of Wayne's car door closing and him coming up the stairs, Eddie tears the page out, folding it quickly and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans as he stands.

The door opens just as he gets to his feet, and Wayne comes trudging in with his steel lunch pail and heavy boots.

"Hey, Wayne," Eddie says, breathless, trying his best to sound level. Wayne eyes him as he closes the door, before turning to dump his stuff on the table.

"C'mon, kid, you promised me a burger."

-

The piece of newspaper stays in Eddie's pocket for three more days.

Wayne had been late getting home – something came up, but Eddie wasn't listening too hard, brain on that stupid ad instead – so their weekly trip to Benny's had run until the early hours of Friday morning.

And then Friday was work and Hellfire, which Eddie still leads despite having graduated two years ago, and this time the kids kept him going for hours. By the time he got home he hadn't even thought about the page before crashing into bed.

And then Saturday is family day, as Nancy puts it. Eddie had woken up late, rolled out of bed into the freshest clothes he could find, and into his van to act as bus driver for the morning. His little gaggle of unruly teenagers crammed into the back of it one by one, laughing and teasing and shouting. Steve's home became louder and still, Eddie relished in that feeling of peace he gets once a week with all these misfits he calls friends.

By Sunday morning, the newspaper had been long forgotten in the pocket of his jeans that he'd left in a pile on his bedroom floor. He's laid on his back on his bed, head dangling off the edge, puffing mindlessly on a spliff he'd rolled for himself two days ago that had also been forgotten. The room's a little fuzzy round the edges, just the way he likes it, the sunlight creeping warm paws up his arms. It smells funny in here, he thinks, so he turns over, pushes himself off the bed, and reaches up to open his window. On his way back to his bed, he trips on something, landing with a huff as his ribs hit the corner of the mattress.

"Fuck," he hisses, reaching down to pull the culprit off the floor. It's just an old pair of jeans, so he throws them into the corner, out of the way, and resumes his position, splayed out across the bed.

From this angle, with his head hanging upside down, he spots something by the pile of denim he'd just discarded.

His brain's ticking over slowly under the haze of being stoned, but after a second he realises what it is, and clambers all too quickly off the bed and across the room.

Maybe it's that haze, coating his brain with thick fog; maybe it's the fact that, in the year since he graduated, he's had to settle for quick fucks behind the Hideout after a gig; or maybe, just maybe, it's dangerous curiosity.

Whatever it is, something motivates him to move through his room, down the narrow corridor into the kitchen. There's something hijacking his limbs, and it reaches up to the phone on the wall. With eyes on the page in his hand he spins the dial, listening to the tone as it rings, rings, rings.

The longer he stands there, the more convinced he becomes in his intoxicated miasma that this is some kind of prank; he's going to be met with a stupid kid on the other end, laughing at him for bothering to call at all. 

When he finally decides that this is just that, a practical joke, the line clicks. There's a low buzz on the other end, so low he thinks maybe the line just went dead, but then a voice.

"Hello?"

He's taken aback by the sound of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the sleep coating it. Despite his stupor, he can't help but apologise.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Who is this?" You're sharper now, coming to, and he kicks himself for fucking this up already.

"Oh, shit, uh, sorry. I called about… I got this number, uh, in the paper."

"Fuck," he hears you whisper. He's not sure if he was supposed to hear it. He feels bad.

"Sorry, I'll go, this was-"

"Look, I put that age range in the ad for a reason. I'm sick of gettin' calls from middle aged men, I-"

"I'm twenty-three."

You're silent on the other end for a moment, but he can hear your breath hitch.

"Well, shit," you finally say. "Y'don't sound it."

He laughs an awkward, stilted laugh, unsure what to say.

"Sorry, I've had so many guys – men, old men – callin' me up, tryin' to flirt with me down the phone, I just… The ad was a mistake, clearly."

He likes the way you talk. You've got a pretty voice.

"Uh, thanks," you say.

Shit.

"Fuck, sorry, did I say that out loud?" Moron.

You laugh, the sound fizzing down the telephone line, and it eases some of his insecurity.

"I'm sorry," he says, starting fresh. "I'll leave you be, have a good-"

"Wait," you bite, and he can hear you shuffling around. "Wait just a sec, I- fuck, where the fuck is it? I… Sorry, can you just wait for a second?"

"Sure, sure," he murmurs, trailing off when he realises you've set the phone down. He listens to the faint sounds of you rummaging around and swearing under your breath. He must look like an idiot, stood in his kitchen, smiling at his phone, waiting for a stranger he found in the paper.

He hears you coming back, footsteps getting louder, before you pick the phone back up.

"Y'still there?"

"Yeah," he laughs. You speak to him like he's an old friend and it keeps catching him off guard.

"Okay," you say. "Here's the thing. I put that stupid ad in the paper because I was sad, and my life has been a misery since then, because literally every guy who's called me has been, like, at least forty, which some people are into I guess but I'm not, and- Sorry."

You're rambling, stumbling over your words even though he can tell you're trying to be professional or something. He stays quiet and hopes you'll keep going.

After a beat, you say, "I guess, 'cause you called, you'd be up for it?"

"Uh, well," he stammers. "That's kinda why I called. Care to explain what it is you want, exactly?"

He's not sure where the sudden confidence has come from; maybe the weed's wearing off.

"Okay, yeah," you breathe. "So, uh, my plan, I guess, was that I'd… You'd take, uh, my virginity."

You almost whisper the last part, like it's some kind of slur, and Eddie can't help but laugh on the other end.

You start to sound exasperated, frustrated, so he tries to claw you back.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just so… frank."

"Well, bein' all coy about it hasn't really worked out for me so far."

Can't argue with that logic.

"Okay," he says, trying to ignore the excitement bubbling inside him. You're a stranger, he's a stranger, and this whole thing is kind of weird. Shit, he thinks. Am I a perv?

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well," you start, sounding like you've got this part planned out. "First I need to know you're not gonna murder me or something, so I'll give you an address near my house but not at my house, and we can meet there whenever… and, uh, what year were you born?"

"What?"

"Just… So I feel a bit more sure you're actually twenty-three."

"Hah, okay. 1965."

"Okay, sweet. You got a pen?"

"Shit, yeah, one sec."

His eyes dart around the room. With the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he moves as far as the cord will let him, to a drawer by the front door. At the back there's an old pencil and some scraps of junk mail.

"Got it!" he declares, too enthusiastic but it makes you giggle so he laughs too.

"Okay," you start, and you tell him an address he vaguely recognises, closer to the nicer side of town, halfway between here and where Steve's house is.

"It's a park, kind of. It's pretty public anyways, so if you were, y'know, planning to kill me or whatever, don't bother."

"I'll take that off the to-do list," he tells you through a smirk.

"Very funny," you say, your sentence half-formed like you can't find the words to finish it. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Eddie. Munson."

"Okay, Eddie Munson," you say before telling him yours and deciding that you'll meet him later that day. You tell him it's easier that way, that you can't bear to have to wait all week, sitting on the nerves that might make you change your mind.

That's exactly what Eddie does all afternoon. You'd decided on six that evening, when it's still light but late enough that you both have time to back out, and so he sits, stoned out of his mind on both weed and the phone call, feeling something he's rarely felt before.

It's like cola in his gut, bubbling and frothing every time he tries to move. Is this what people feel when they say they have butterflies? Because it doesn't really feel like that; it feels instead like the madness inside him is floating upwards, fizzing around his heart, prodding and poking at it at uneven rhythms. His mind is reeling, too; he hadn't really thought this through at all. What if, even after that call, you're still planning on playing some kind of trick on him? What if this is an elaborate scheme to publicly humiliate him? Maybe you get a kick out of that kind of thing.

There's another thing, creeping around at the back of his mind, lurking. It's that horrid hopefulness, the what if that feels so far from likely that if he lends too much time to thinking about it, he feels stupid.

What if you're great?

He shakes himself out, standing up off his bed. He'd been lying there for the past two hours, sobering up, dwelling on every detail of the call, lingering in particular on your voice and your laugh and the way you say sweet so often.

He doesn't know who you are. He didn't recognise your name when you told him, even though you're his age. He didn't recognise your voice either, but he likes it, and he wasn't lying when he (accidentally) told you it's pretty.

He looks at the clock beside his bed. The red numbers flicker as they change to 16:52.

One hour.

-

He's early.

It's ten to six, and he's early.

The sun's low but not gone yet, and the park you sent him to is actually kind of nice. He's in his van, waiting until it's a socially acceptable time to get out and wait for you. What is the socially acceptable time to get out and wait for the girl you've got an agreement like this with?

Before he can decide, he sees someone. They're in jeans and a jacket, red Chucks and hair lifting up in the breeze.

Without thinking about it too hard, he opens the door and hops out, slamming it a little too hard. The person looks over, catches his mop of hair over the top of the van, and stops walking.

"Eddie?"

He hears you call his name over the sound of his boots crunching on the ground as he rounds the front of the van. He looks over to find you, the person he saw walking over, looking at him with your hand at your brow, blocking the sun.

You're pretty – really pretty. He still doesn't recognise you, but he has decided that's surely for the best.

You don't recognise him, either, but he's hot. He's not what you expected; truthfully, you really had expected someone older, lying about their age to get in your pants, someone you'd have to turn down in this very public space, going back to your apartment alone and unsatisfied. This is not what you had in mind at all, but you're not mad about it.

As he comes towards you, you watch the way he walks, chest-first like he's exactly where he should be. His hair's long and a bit wild but it matches his style – ringer tee, messy black jeans, obnoxious denim jacket. He's got his hands in his pockets but when he lifts one out to wave at you awkwardly, you see the rings and know you're a goner.

You wave back, laughing lightly as he nears you. He's taller than you so you really have to squint to see him against the setting sun.

"Hey," he says softly. His voice is even nicer in person; he does sound older than he is, and he has an air of maturity about him, like he's too sure in himself to be 23, but there's also a boyishness somewhere underneath that endears you.

"Hi," you reply. "You're Eddie, right?"

He looks around himself, head whipping back and forth.

"No, doll," he says, looking at you with a blank face. "I'm Keith."

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks and the way your face drops, but then he laughs and reaches out to hold your shoulder.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke." He squeezes. "Yeah, I'm Eddie."

You choose to ignore the overly familiar touch and the way it sends your knees all funny, and instead you laugh, a little awkwardly, and hold out a hand.

"Nice to meet ya," you say, firm.

He looks down at your hand as he drops his own from your shoulder. His eyes move between it and your face, but he shakes it anyway.

"Well?" he asks, and you watch as he smirks, staring you down, his hand still in yours.

"What?"

"Do I look like a serial killer? Scared I'm gonna murder you?"

With those final words he pulls on your hand, bringing you closer to himself. His confidence is only making that funny feeling in your knees worse, but what you don't know is that he's bluffing; before you stands a terrified boy struck dumb by a pretty girl.

"Hm," you hum, dialling up the dramatics to ponder his appearance. You take the chance to scan your eyes up and down his body, taking in the scuffs on his shoes and the pretty silver chain around his neck. From here you can smell weed and cigarette smoke, pretty aftershave and something deeper. "I don't think so."

"Damn," he quips, finally releasing your hand to run his own through his wild mass of hair. "I was really tryin' to look scary."

"You didn't do a very good job," you tell him, laughing softly, and he looks at you with a smile.

"Oh well," he says. "Maybe next time."

Ignoring the way that makes you feel, you take his hand again. It's your turn to pull him, dragging him behind you. The move startles him and he drags his feet for a moment before catching up, refusing to let go of your hand when you try. He swings them between your bodies theatrically as you walk him across the park, through a line of tall oak trees and onto the street on the other side.

"So," he says, drawing out the word. "We goin' to your parents' or somethin'?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head slightly with your eyes on the ground. You drop his hand and stuff yours back in your pocket. "I have an apartment, up by Main Street. This's just a shortcut."

"Oh."

You don't say much more after that. The walk is short; you were right, this is a shortcut to Main Street, one even he didn’t know about. It takes you past Steve's house, and Eddie prays he doesn't happen to be looking out the window at this precise moment.

You live above the pharmacy. You scramble with the lock for a moment, so he stands behind you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around; it's quiet, the usual lull of a Sunday evening, the sun lower than before. He looks at the back of your hair and the way the light catches in it, hears the low curses under your breath as you struggle with the door. And then it's open, and you're inside in the dark, and he has to bring himself back down to Earth.

Your apartment is small. Behind the door there's a narrow staircase, and at the top another door. It brings him into your living space, which is cramped but clearly well-loved. You offer him a drink and step into the kitchen when he says yes.

He lets his eyes pass over the room. The ceiling is low, reminiscent of his own home, though the walls are more solid than the trailer. They're painted a muted, pale blue, a colour he's sure you didn't choose because you've covered as much of them as you can in things: paintings, framed photographs, postcards. The furniture is more to your taste, he assumes. It's all soft, rich greens and pinks.

You bring him a beer as he sits on the couch, sinks into the cushions, toes off his boots.

"Thanks," he says as you pass him the bottle and take a swig of your own. You take your own shoes off and leave them by the door, hanging your jacket on a hook there too.

"So," you begin, padding back over to him and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "I don't know how this works."

"Well," he says, turning to you with one arm up on the back cushions, "I can talk you through it, but I need t'know where you're at."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, how far have you gone before? How far do you want to go today?"

"Uh-" You shuffle, squirming into the couch, clearly looking for the right words. "I've never… This is as far as I've ever got."

He breathes a gasp though he's trying to hide it, trying to stick to the agreement of judgement-free. "You've never been kissed?"

You just shake your head and the way your face creases, brows turned down, makes him ache.

"Okay."

"And I want to go all the way," you say quickly, all in one breath, finding your words. "Not too far, no extra shit, like, kinky shit, but the standard."

"O-kay," he says again, smiling this time. "So you know it's not as easy as… As in and out, right?"

"Yes," you spit. He flinches. "Sorry, it's just… It's hard not to feel a bit, like, insecure about all of this. Makes me a bit defensive, I guess."

"It's okay," he soothes, and his tone really does make you feel better. "No judgement here. I'm not new to sex, but I'm just as new to this whole… situation as you are."

"Okay," you sigh.

"Why don't we just chat for a bit? I'm not in a rush if you're not."

"Yeah," you agree. Eddie is easy, you're finding; no dancing around the point, but you feel you're being handled gently. Exactly what you want.

"So did you grow up here?"

Okay, so maybe the 'chatting' suggestion was a bit of a façade for the fact that Eddie has found himself fascinated by you, even in the short time he's known you. Sure, it's only been ten minutes if you're not counting the phone call, but there's something about you that piques his interest. And, if he's honest, he's not sure why he wouldn't recognise someone his own age in Hawkins.

"No, no," you say, leaning over to put your beer on the table. You wipe your mouth quickly with the back of your hand. "I'm from Illinois."

"Why are you here then?" He takes your que and puts his own beer down too, deciding that being intoxicated probably isn't the best idea.

"I dunno," you say, sighing again. Your shoulders go lax as you let yourself sink backwards and look up at the ceiling. "I wanted to go somewhere new, but not somewhere big. And the middle school here was hiring a tech assistant, so I applied."

"And you got the job?"

"Uh-huh. I start in September, figured I'd just move here early, try to find my feet."

"How's that going?"

"Alright, mister questions." You laugh as you say this and sit up, looking at him again with a smile. "It's going okay so far. People are friendlier here, but I haven't exactly found my people yet."

He hums, nodding, and you say, "My turn."

He looks up at you. "Do your worst."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Kind of. Somewhere near here, til I was eleven."

"Why'd you move here?"

"Hah." He goes all rigid and awkward at your question, shrugging his jacket off with his eyes on the ground. You take note of the ink you can see crawling up to his neck under the collar of his shirt. There's something else there, too; something pale and stretched, like a scar.

"It's complicated." That's the answer he settles on, keeping his cards close to his chest. "But I moved in with my uncle when I was in middle school. Been here since then."

"Is that why you're still here? Your uncle?"

"Kind of, but that's also complicated."

"Wow, okay, is everything complicated with you?"

"It doesn't have to be," he says. It throws you for a loop, the way his voice has dropped, fried and kind of… sexy?

You find him looking at you, and suddenly he feels really close. You feel this urge to climb out of yourself, away from this situation that isn't for you; it's never for you. No one has ever wanted to get this close.

"You okay?" he asks, his friendly tone back.

You're grateful he seems to be able to read you so quickly.

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. If you want to, y'know, stop this at any point, just let me know, okay?"

"We haven't even-"

"Will you?" he presses.

"Yes," you promise him. He looks back at you like he's waiting, yearning for something and you don't quite know what.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why are you so far away right now?"

He's gone soft, leaning forward toward you, his arm still up on the back of the couch. Your eyes flicker to his fingers and the rings on them, the way they're sparkling slightly in the dipping sun coming through the window.

It fills your mouth with glue. The combination of his proximity and the question leaves you breathless.

"I just…" he continues. "You're hiding from me over there."

He's got a sticky smirk on his face, like he knows the answer and knows you don't want to tell him. He shuffles forward ever so slightly, letting you breach into his space if you want to.

You do, you really, really do – he's a kind stranger, doing a kind thing for you, even if it is a bit odd. You want nothing more than to relinquish yourself to him, and yet you can't.

There's a momentary staring contest between the two of you. The couch feels miles long and yet he's closing in. You feel suffocated.

"I'm gonna come to you," he says after a minute. "Is that okay?"

All you can do is nod at him. It's like your body's on fire, affronted at the idea of being touched by him and yet harbouring some primal urge, deep under the surface, to let him do it anyway.

He pushes his jacket onto the floor with his elbow as he moves himself down the couch toward you. Your eyes follow his arms and the way they stretch, and then the way one of them lifts. He plants his hand firmly on your knee and it burns through the denim of your jeans. You can't tear your eyes from it, staring blankly at his fingers, the way the tendons flex when he squeezes.

"We don't have to do anythin' you don't wanna do, okay?" he tells you. He's watching you, how you're watching his hand, how your hair still lights up in the sun. You're sweet, and pretty, and most of all he longs to know more.

"I'm gonna talk you through it," he continues, "kinda like a teacher, if that's what you want."

When you don't reply, he calls your name softly, and says, "Is that what you want?"

You look up at him and nod again.

"I need to hear it, sweets."

You tell him yes, that is what I want, trying desperately to keep your voice as level as possible, not letting on that it kills you every time he uses a petname like that.

His fingers dance up your thigh and back down to your knee, a repeating pattern that sends you dizzier the closer he gets to you.

"Eddie?"

His hand stills and he looks at you.

"Yeah?"

When he responds, you feel his breath on your face. He's close enough, now; you can really look at him, at the crow's feet by his eyes, the freckles across his cheek, the bend in the bridge of his nose that looks like maybe he broke it once. His eyes are really pretty, browned sugar and syrup, flitting around as he tries to read you.

"I've never been this close to anyone before."

He's watching your eyes as they move over his face, admiring the slight sense of awe in them.

"That's okay."

There's a sudden absence on your leg where his hand leaves it and it aches, like the bone is realigning. You swallow a whine and close your eyes when his hand finds your cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he whispers. "That okay?"

You nod again and he lets the pads of his fingers smooth backwards into your hair where they take root, his thumb beside your eye. You feel him pull you in and his breath on your nose and then the strange sensation of his lips.

It's new but not unwelcome. He's soft with it, light as anything and quicker even, gone before you really know it's happened. Some kind of sudden urge takes over, though, because you don't like how quick it was, so you chase him. You plant your lips back on his, firmer than he had, your nose nudging his as you get the angle right. This one's longer and it startles him; you have to pull back when he starts laughing.

"Alright, alright, slow down," he says as you sit back, deflated. "You liked that, huh?"

You nod, giddy, desperate to feel it again.

"Can I show you somethin'?" His hand is on your neck now, burning its fires once more, and you can barely concentrate on him.

"Yeah," you breathe, a sigh of relief as he comes closer again. But as you close your eyes, expecting his mouth on yours, you can't help the whine that escapes when he misses, landing beside it. You feel him chuckle, a puff of air out of his nose, before he dots more kisses along your jaw. It feels nice, gentle and slow, like he's scared to break you if he goes too fast or comes on too strong.

The whine, lingering in your throat, moulds into something like a sigh – or even a moan – when he makes it onto the column of your throat. You swear you feel his teeth graze the skin there, lips following them over your pulse. His kisses turn hotter, heavier, and you can't help the way you keen into him. Without thinking about it, you paw at his shoulders and let your back arch as you breathe thick pants into the air of your living room.

When he pulls back again, you whine his name, gripping tighter where you've pulled his shirt into your fists. He laughs at you, head tipped back, as he smooths his hands up and down your arms; the gentle touch makes you relax and your hands unfurl.

"Good, huh?" His words are viscous, thick with want, but he daren't go too fast.

"Mm-hmm," you agree, nodding, breathing quick. Now that he's stopped, you have time to consider that, actually, you might be a bit overwhelmed; without thinking about it you sit back, returning to your comfortable distance by the arm of the couch, watching as his face falls.

"Sure you're okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I just-"

"Yeah, take a second."

"Mm-hmm, just need a minute."

You watch him stiffen, awkward in the wake of the moment, and take the chance to admire him a bit more until you sense his eyes are back on you, and suddenly you feel very small.

"You alright?"

You nod, looking back at him, finding his face all soft and concerned, turned down so it makes you twinge.

"You're being so nice to me," you say. It comes out more as a breath, a string of words tied together with insecurity, all in the same exhale. You're not even sure you said it at all, but his face twists into something like shock.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. "I dunno, I… You're just being very… kind. Are you always like this?"

He seems taken aback by the question. His hands are in his lap where his left fingers toy with the rings on his right. He looks away from you to stare instead at the beer on the table and the drop of condensation running a race down the neck of the bottle.

"You've really never done this before, huh?" he asks you, and now it's your turn to be taken aback.

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're getting at," you say with perhaps a bit too much venom.

"No," he responds, stern. "I'm just… Finding it hard to believe. I'm sure it's true," he says quickly when you open your mouth to fire something quick at him again, "like, I know you're not lying, but it's so surprising."

"How so?"

He sighs this time. He twists in his seat to face you, bringing one leg up under himself, the other dangling off the edge of your couch. "I'm gonna be honest with you right now, if that's okay."

"Okay."

"'Cause I feel like that's the best way to do this whole… thing, right? Nothin' in it for you, really, if we're not honest, or whatever…"

For the first time since you met him in the park, he's showing his nerves. It gets him all wound up, stumbling through sentences like the words are quicker than he can keep up with. It's endearing, really; nicer in some ways than confidence.

"When I saw that ad it obviously caught my eye, I mean, I called, but I just didn't know what to expect, obviously, and you're… Well, you're… normal? So far, anyway." He huffs the last three words out in a laugh, but you don't return it.

"What does that mean?"

"I just think I expected someone who puts an ad like that in the paper to be weirder, or something."

Your gut twists. Red flares of anger lick up your insides, popping and wheezing in your throat.

"What the fuck, dude?" 

You stand, backing away, feeling that familiar creeping isolation; distance, walls up, get away. His face has dropped to something wider, fear in his big stupid brown eyes and mouth agape.

"I didn't-"

"I'm not weird for being a virgin. And just because you think I'm 'normal' doesn't mean this-" you gesture between the two of you with both hands, "-should be surprising."

"No, shit, sorry," he pants, desperation oozing, "fuck."

"I think you should go," you finally say. Your arms are across your middle, hands gripping your forearms. You don't dare look at him, even when he says nothing.

You flinch when you feel him come nearer. He steps over the threadbare rug on your floor and over to the corner where you've parked yourself.

He calls your name and you despise the way you soften at the sound of it.

"I'm gonna touch you, 's'that okay?"

You scoff, turning away from him.

"Stop fucking patronising me, Eddie."

"I'm not patronising you. You wanted me to talk you through it."

"Yeah, that. Not this."

"This is part of that."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Well this isn't getting me very turned on," you spit, turning back to look at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and the rising fire of anger flares when you find that cocky smirk on his face.

"Will you come sit down with me? Please?"

His hands are hovering awkwardly between the two of you, forbidden to come any closer but refusing to give up completely. You offer him an olive branch, dropping your own arms and taking his hand in yours.

He walks you back to the couch and sits beside you, turning your hand over in his on his lap. You both watch it, the way his thumb grazes your palm, tracing the lines up and over.

"Sex isn't just sex, you know," he says frankly. "Even when it's like this."

"I know," you whisper, eyes transfixed.

"It's about all the emotional shit too, and I'm gettin' the feeling there's a lot of that to get through."

"Mm-hmm." It irks you, the way he seems to know you without really knowing you. "You sound very wise."

He laughs at that, and you find yourself grateful for the reprieve, for the way the tension seems to lift just a little.

"I'm just being honest," he admits through a laugh. And then he turns to look at you, dipping his head to meet your gaze because you won't look up. His gaze on you is oppressive, unfamiliar, but you don't dislike it.

"You're really pretty, you know."

You just look at him.

"Hm?" he tries, dipping even lower to catch your eye properly. "It's true."

"A boy's never called me pretty before," you admit, words too quick for you to call them back. This is dire, this hole you're digging; after all this time, being honest is still so difficult, though it seems to come so easily to him.

"That's a crime" he says. And then he does that thing, the one you've read about in books, daydreamed about, thought about late into the night. He brings his hand to your face and holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a light pressure but enough to move you to look up at him, sat upright, with your mouth dropped open in shock.

It's just as electric as you'd imagined; more so, even. Two points of contact. Who'd have thought it?

"I'm sorry I said something stupid," he tells you. "It was dumb."

You giggle as his fingers shift across your skin. Soon enough he's holding you in his hand again and you feel yourself leaning into it, again.

"Thank you for apologising," you say. "I think I can forgive it for now."

"Good," he says. And then, more coy, the act dropped for a moment, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, but…"

Just like before, the words stall in your throat.

"You can tell me what you want, you know. It's why I'm here." Christ, his voice is like honey when he's this close to your face.

You pull a long breath in through your nose and close your eyes.

"I have this… fantasy," you begin, and you hear (and feel) him chuckle.

"Go on."

"I guess it's not really a fantasy, just something I've always wanted to try…"

"That's the definition of a fantasy."

"Hey," you scold, opening your eyes and swatting him on the arm softly. "You wanna hear it or not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, laughing again. "Continue."

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"Is that it?" he asks, laugh lingering, threatening to fire up the heat in your cheeks.

"Yes," you say pointedly. "I wanna try it."

"Go for it, baby."

He doesn't miss the way you gasp at the nickname; in fact, he smiles, grins almost. He moves his hands down, leaving your face for now so he can hold your waist as you move onto your knees and lift one over him.

It's funny, you think, how hard all of this feels; really, this is a very normal thing for two 23-year-olds to be doing, and yet something within you makes it feel mechanical, intentional. Perhaps you just need practise.

"Okay," he says as you settle, your hips halfway down his thighs. "You gonna get any closer, or am I gonna have to lean over an' break my back?"

"Am I okay to get closer?" you ask, not taking much notice of how your fingers are dancing around his chest, toying lightly with the chain around his neck. Maybe it does come naturally after all.

"'Course you are, here-"

His big hands pull you in by the waist so that you're seated on him, hips to hips. Your faces are closer now, too, so you can admire those lovely crows feet again and the bend of his nose.

"Gonna kiss me, Munson?"

"O-kay," he says, smirking again. "I like the attitude."

"Oh, for fu-"

He shuts you up with a kiss, takes your breath away like they all say in the magazines; this kiss brings the fire up to the hilt, pulls on the smoke and the kindling and sets everything ablaze. His lips move against yours like molten gold, hot and rich and bright, quick but tender all the same. You feel the heat of his stuttering breaths on your cheek and lean inwards, arching your back slightly, until you feel him moan.

It's a sensation you could get used to, for sure. It's fizzy vibrations on your lips, makes them tingle, all electric. And then, before you can really know it's happening, you feel his tongue on yours.

You're not even sure when you opened your mouth for him. But it's there, the new feeling. It feels wetter, less familiar, but it pulls an involuntary moan out of you and you arch your back even more without thinking.

You get into it, into the rhythm, and let your mind wander to the friction between your hips and the pressure of his fingers under your ribs. They're skirting the hem of your top, his ring finger dipping beneath it onto the skin of your waist. And then you think about it too much, take notice of it too acutely, and you're pulling back and panting, looking down at where his hands are.

"All good?" he asks in a voice that's new to you; it's lazy, his words fuzzy, like he's just woken up. You look up at him and his eyes are hooded, lids low, and he's wearing a dopey half-smile.

"Yeah, just… Feeling lots of things," you say; it's all you can think of to explain this.

"That's kinda the point," he reminds you, and then he's doing that thing he showed you earlier, kissing slowly across your jaw and down onto your neck. It feels just as nice the second time; nicer, even, because you're letting him do it and you're letting yourself enjoy it.

His fingers venture upwards, more of them sliding under your top, until he pulls back and says the fateful words you knew would come soon: "Can I take this off?"

His lips are still on your throat, so he doesn't see the way you wince. When you don't reply he comes back up to look at you. You turn away.

"Hey," he coos, one hand leaving its treacherous territory to hold your head again. "What's up?"

You huff. "No one's ever seen me… naked before."

He smiles, which vexes you. "I'm here 'cause I wanna, baby."

The fucking nicknames.

"I know, I just… Can you just-"

You hold his hand in yours and move it away from your skin, hold it in both of yours to keep it away from you. He breathes an apology but you continue.

"This whole thing, me never doing this before or whatever, I think it's probably got a lot to do with me not really liking this-" you look down at yourself as you speak, "-very much."

You see him take this in, how it melts his features and widens his eyes.

"Okay," he finally says. "We can take this slow, yeah? You wearing a bra?"

"Yes, Eddie, I'm wearing a bra."

"So let's start there. Top off first, and you can see how you feel."

"Okay."

You let go of his hand and he takes your shirt in both. You close your eyes as you feel him lift the fabric, bunch it around your breasts, your que to lift your arms. You do it for him and he pulls up, tugs it messily over your head and throws it somewhere across the room.

"Shit," he hisses.

"What?" you say in a panic, worried something somewhere has gone horribly wrong.

"Look at you," he croons. "So pretty."

The insecurity evaporates, coming off you like a heavy mist, as he dips his head to kiss your collar bones and across the swell of flesh beneath. He takes his time, sometimes pulling the skin between his teeth but never for long enough to leave a mark. At some point he nudges you back and reaches over his head to pull his own shirt off; before he commits, he looks at you. You nod.

This is the most flesh-on-flesh you've ever felt before. It's nice; you're both warm, and he hasn't once mentioned the eighteen thousand different flaws you know are on your upper body.

His is covered in ink – pretty, often in swirling patterns and on his arm there are bats. But between them, there's confirmation of your earlier suspicions: he's got scars everywhere.

You trace them with gentle fingers.

"Don't ask," he says, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay."

You lean back in to kiss him. You’re a lot less confident than he is at initiating, but soon enough you get the hang of it, and he lets you. He doesn't take the reins; instead, he gives himself to you, lets you find your feet by yourself.

You attempt to copy him, kissing his jaw and then his neck, and you enjoy the way he sighs and relaxes under your lips.

As you move further down, teeth grazing his collarbone, he says, "you wanna move? Couch isn't exactly ideal."

You finish your work with a peck to the bump of his shoulder and say, "Sure."

There's some awkward shuffling, and standing in your bra and jeans is somehow more vulnerable than sitting on him, but nevertheless you take his hand and lead him through the door to your bedroom.

He doesn't have as much time to take this room in as the last one, because he wants you on the bed more than he cares to admit. When you flick on the bedside lamp, finally acknowledging how dark it's become now the sun's started going down, all he really notices is how warm the room is.

"Here," he says, manoeuvring you as he pleases. "Lay back, yeah?"

You do as he says, sitting facing him and pushing yourself back so you can lay down with your knees up. 

And then it happens: one of the many cataclysmic revelations of the evening.

"Good girl."

Again, you gasp, looking up at the ceiling.

"Good?" he asks.

"Really good," you tell him. You haven't really noticed that your hands have laid themselves across your chest, but he can't stop staring.

"That's it, see? Love when you tell me what you like."

One of his hands joins one of yours where it's fidgeting with your bra, and the other smooths down one of your legs, urging you to straighten them. You do, and again he says those fateful words: "Good girl. Gonna take these off, yeah?"

"Wait," you snap, sitting up and letting his hand fall so you can lean back with your weight on yours. "Can we do it together?"

"'Course."

"And can I… Can I undo yours?"

"Shit, sure you can."

You sit up and he takes your hands in his bigger ones, moulding them so you're tracing your fingers down the plain of his chest and stomach. You follow the dips and creases, the taught skin of his scars, and finally reach his belt.

He's mumbling nonsense at you, too caught up in everything to keep up the teacher façade, pinching your fingers between his so you can pull the leather through the buckle and get to his zipper.

When you unzip and brush something hard, he drops his hands and tips his head back in a sigh. It's an unfamiliar feeling under your tentative hands but it's not unknown.

"Wow," you breathe, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"Shit, gotta get these off-" He pulls back from your wanting grasp to shuffle out of his jeans, leaving his boxers in place for now. One step at a time.

"Your turn," he declares, smiling, jeans and socks gone. He reaches over to you again to return the favour, undoing buttons and the zip and his wide hand on your hip urges you to lift off the bed so he can pull the denim down your legs.

There's no turning back now; you can never again wonder what will happen the first time someone sees you (nearly) naked.

You've thought about this before, turned an infinity of possibilities over in your mind, but this was never one of them. Not one of them included a pretty boy, standing before you, just as exposed as you are, pawing at flesh and telling you you're beautiful.

His lips ghost over you, beginning at your shoulder and creeping lower. When he reaches the middle of your chest he looks up at you, the angle a little awkward. You nod.

"What're you doing?" you ask him, moving backwards again as he crowds you.

"I'm gonna take this off," he says, tugging lightly at the band of your bra, bringing himself level with you so he's breathing the words into your ear. "And then I'm gonna eat you out."

He may as well be a fire-breathing dragon. His words claw at your scalp like flames and fill your lungs with heat, pulling a sigh from within. You lean back, lying flat on the sheets, and let him have his way with you.

But he doesn't move, first admiring the way you respond and then waiting, lingering above you, too far away.

"What?" you hiccup, looking at him, confused.

"Need you to tell me this is what you want," he tells you.

"This is what I want," you repeat back to him. And then, taking the plunge, you add, "I want you to eat me out, Eddie."

You relish in his response, the way you can almost see him shiver, bare shoulders twitching and chest deflating with a shuddery exhale.

"Christ, yes, okay."

His fingers inch around your back so you arch it, letting him toy with the clasp of your bra. He gets it undone quicker than you expected, and you can't bring yourself to focus on where it goes once it's off because he's got his mouth back on your skin and now he's biting marks in places that would make your past self blush.

You feel his teeth on the swell of your boobs, first the left and then the right, and the rough pads of his fingers over your nipples.

"Shit," you hiss, and then, "no, shit, don't stop," when he halts for a second.

"Feel good?" he asks, muffled with his teeth grazing the stretch of skin across your ribs.

"Yes, yeah."

Gripping the sheets, you arch again, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the goosebumps they leave.

His fingers leave them, too, especially when they dance over your sides, that bit that makes you feel hollow if you drift over it the right way.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, lifting his head to look up at you from where he's sunk to his knees. You're staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied to meet his eye, and the sight makes him huff a laugh.

"Yes," you respond too quickly.

As you feel his fingers curl around the elastic, he says, "Okay, you're gonna have to give me a hand, alright? Tell me if it feels okay or if you want me to move. Or if you want me to stop, obviously."

"Yes, yeah, fuck, please Eddie-"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, pulling the material down over your knees and feet. At this rate, your bedroom floor must look like an explosion at the laundromat; dirty laundry everywhere, clothes all over the floor.

You're not sure why you're thinking about the logistics of tidying right now, though it doesn't last long, because the cool air on your core is a shock that jolts every limb.

Although he's wedged between them, you seem to have an instinctual reaction to the sensation of being exposed, your legs trying to close around him. His firm hands pull them apart, his fingers grasping the fat of your thighs, and then his lips.

They're on the softness between your legs first of all, nipping and pulling the skin between his teeth as he moves upwards. And then you feel them, the strange, wet contact. There's a feeling, something you think must be his tongue, licking upwards, before it makes contact with your clit.

The pressure is a thunderbolt to the centre, a shock that sends you arching off the bed with a gasp. Your grasp on the sheets tightens for a moment until you feel the roughness of his hair instead; without thinking, you've moved both hands to claw and pet at the crown of his head, earning a muffled moan when you tug ever so lightly.

He calls your name, pulling back, his words heard through cotton wool ears. "You're sure you haven't done this before?"

"Fuck, yes, Eddie I'm sure," you pant in response, desperate for the sensation of his mouth on you again. He obliges your unspoken craving, licking upwards again before settling comfortably at your clit. His firm hands dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs until one of them doesn’t, and before you can think too hard about it, you feel it just beneath his mouth.

The new feeling of his rough fingers on your cunt sends your eyes rolling back; you can't help but squirm and it's driving him wild, the way you're listening to him, the way you can't help but move, the way you're tugging at him without realising.

The gnawing tightness in your core nosedives when he slips, warm breaths replacing his mouth and fingers. You whine like a petulant child, making a noise you didn't know you could.

"I'm gonna use my fingers," he tells you, the distance between him and your cunt not enough to save you from the maddening huffs of breath as he talks. "Have you ever had anything inside before?"

It's funny, how nervous he sounds despite the fact he's knelt the way he is between your knees. His mouth was just all over you, and yet he's still a boy, turned stuttering by sex talk.

"No," you pant, "no, never."

"Okay, it might hurt, alright? You just gotta tell me to stop and I will."

"Okay," you agree.

He settles back into position, his weight rested on his elbows and his face and hand inching closer. You feel it, the stiffness of a finger, but the feeling is unusual and a little uncomfortable.

"You gotta relax," he tells you. "You overthinkin' it?"

"No," you bite defensively.

"It's okay."

You huff and lie back, dropping your shoulders.

"Do you ever…"

Another sigh.

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

There's a momentary flush of embarrassment, a conditioned response to being asked about this kind of thing, but you're here, in this position, naked, so you may as well be honest.

"Yes."

"Okay, what do you think about? When you do?"

"I, uh…"

"It's okay," he says quickly, "don't tell me. Just- just think about it now, right? Somethin' that turns you on."

Something that turns you on? What's turning you on right now is the handsome guy between your legs. His pretty inked skin, the stretch across his shoulders and the ripples in his back. His wide, firm hands, those obnoxious rings, the way he keeps telling you you're a good girl.

It swims in your mind, the vision of him cooing sweet praises, the fizzling memory of those words in his voice.

"That's it, you got it," you hear him tut, as though he can see inside your mind, read your thoughts. It pulls apart the tension in your core and across your shoulders, and then it's back, that feeling, the warmth and the fire, and you sink deeper into the pool of euphoria.

With one finger already half-way inside, he adds a second, his eyes trained on your face in case it's too much. But it's not; of course it's not. He knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's made a girl this happy in his whole life.

You feel it soon enough: there's a fizzing current that licks up from your cunt and into your gut where it lights your nervous system on fire. It runs laps around your body, pinpricks in your fingertips and behind your ears. You grasp at the sheets again, pulling, pulling, pulling, reaching for whatever you can to keep your body from floating away, because it really feels like that's about to happen; either that or you're going to implode, pulling the room and everything else with you like a black hole, hungry for more.

You barely notice the pants, your whiny moans and the repeated prayers of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, before you're coming apart. He's still going, riding you through it, basking in the sound of his name as it crawls from your mouth. So far he's kept his composure, ignored the searing pain under his boxers, but he doesn't think he'll hold out much longer.

"That's it," he coos, slowing down, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. You're panting, your breath hot and skin even hotter, and you can barely hear him when he speaks. The words carry, though, somehow; his praises of you did so good, and you're driving me wild, and, worst of all with the way it slaps you silly when it comes, I need to be inside you.

You sit up at that, holding yourself up on wobbling elbows to look at him. He's still knelt between your knees, hands resting on them, looking back at you with eyes turned dark and glistening skin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it takes you a minute to understand that he's waiting for your answer.

"Right," you breathe. "Yeah, okay." You scramble to sit up and twist yourself so you're lying the right way but he laughs and it makes you go cold.

"Chill out, take a minute, yeah?"

His hand hasn't left you; it's on your ankle now, rubbing those same circles over the bone.

All you can say is, "That was insane."

He laughs again, a softer noise this time, and says, "It was, huh?"

"Yeah." You flop back, head in the pillows and eyes on the ceiling above you, your own fingers tracing up and down your stomach.

He watches you from the floor. You're all flushed, glowing something rosy and sprinkled with dewy sweat. And then he watches your fingers, their absentminded journey up from your belly to the dip between your boobs, and back down. You repeat it over and over, and though it's an innocent, repetitive stroke, it's not helping the pressure between his legs.

"I'm gonna take these off," he tells you, giving your ankle a comforting squeeze and tugging his waistband with his free hand. "That okay?"

It dawns on you, as you look at him, that not only are you lying naked in front of a stranger, but that you are about to see that stranger's dick. A stranger who responded to your stupid ad in the paper, who's agreed to this for some stupid reason, and who is stupid handsome and stupid nice.

"Uh, yeah, okay."

He says your name again and it sounds so pretty when he does, and then he says, "We can stop if you want, you know. You don't have to do anythin' you don't want to."

"No, I want to," you say. "I just… This is a lot."

"Yeah," he says with a smile, that one that drips with charm and tugs at your gut. "But you're all good. Done so well so far."

Your body keens at the praise, your back lifting off the bed and it's then that you notice the feeling of want biting ugly marks into the pit of your stomach. You look at him, and he looks back at you, and all you can feel is a gnawing emptiness, a need to be full.

"Let's do this," you declare, sitting back up on your elbows and watching him with needy eyes. He sees it, the darkness that has settled in your irises, the itchy fidgeting of your hands on your sheets.

"Yes, ma'am."

Slowly, he stands and tugs his underwear down his legs and onto the floor. It all feels very real, now that he's stood before you like this.

He laughs at your wide eyes, trained on the straining erection he just let loose. You've never seen a dick in person before, and to be truthful you're not sure you've ever really seen one in a photograph or a video – the adult section at the rental store isn't exactly somewhere you often find yourself – so you have nothing to compare this to, but objectively it looks quite big.

"Will it fit?" you say before you can stop yourself. It comes out a squeak and makes him laugh yet again.

"Yes," he tells you, "it'll fit. But thanks for the ego boost."

He's on his knees on the bed beside you now, moving towards you until he can use his hands to move your legs apart. He settles himself between them and sits back on his heels, leaving one hand on your left leg and using the other to take one of yours. He intertwines your fingers, squeezes, and pulls you to sit up.

"Here," he says, bringing your hand to sit flat on his ribs. He's controlling his voice as best he can, hoping it doesn't sound as desperate as he feels right now. He can't help but stare at you, at how you're looking at him. 

"I'm gonna show you how to touch me, okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. His hand moves yours down until it reaches patchy hair and then he curls your hand around his dick, his own hand still holding yours.

It's a new feeling, sure, but you're mostly enjoying the short hisses of breath he's letting out. When you move upwards without his help he almost moans, and you decide you'd like to do whatever it takes to make him do it again, and louder.

"Shit, okay, wait. Here-" He brings your hand away and lays it flat, palm up. "Spit."

You look up at him and find his wide brown eyes looking down at you, waiting.

So you spit into your palm, and he brings it back to himself, and moving is easier now.

"Fuck, okay… Yeah, just like that, that's it, shit-"

He drops his hand from yours and leaves you to find your own way, so you copy his pattern of up and down, slowly, twisting your hand as you go.

"Here, move your thumb over the- Fuck-"

You do as he says, perhaps too eager to please, and watch in awe as the muscles in his abdomen tense and he leans forward, resting his weight on one hand planted right beside your hip.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he says, taking your wrist and pulling you away, ignoring the way you whine.

When he says, "We can worry about me another time," you try to ignore the brief fluttering it elicits deep within your chest somewhere. Dwelling on things said in the heat of this moment isn't fair, you decide; he surely doesn't mean it.

With warm, now familiar hands, he helps you lay back down.

"You got condoms?"

"Oh." You don't, and the truth you're about to tell him is mortifying. "No. They all expired a few months ago."

"That's fine," is all he says, and the fluttery feeling returns when he doesn't ask any follow up questions. No judgement, as promised. "Just wait here."

His hand leaves you at the last possible moment. As he moves off the bed it runs smooth down your leg and over your foot, like he's scared that if he lets go you'll disappear. You watch him hop awkwardly across the room and into your living room, the sight a refreshing injection of humour, helping you relax into the mattress again. He comes back with his jacket in one hand, which he drops on the floor after rummaging in the inside pocket and pulling out a red foil square. 

He pulls it open with fingers that you realise are shaking slightly, and you wonder if he's really nervous, and if so, if he's as nervous as you are.

It takes a few seconds but soon enough he's rolled it on, breath stuttering and dry, and then he climbs back to you and his hands return to your body almost as quickly as they left.

He's hovering over you now, his long hair tickling the sides of your face and the tops of your shoulders, all the places the sun hits on hot days. You're too caught up in watching his every move, too keen to really realise what you're saying before you ask: "Will you kiss me again?"

He smiles and dips down wordlessly, letting his lips slip against yours. It brings back the fluttering and the fizzy feeling, the craving for him. As your tongues move as one, you feel his hand by your thigh, and when he pulls back he says, "You ready?"

You nod, and then, remembering what he said earlier, cement it in words: "I'm ready."

"Alright, I'm gonna go slow, okay? It's gonna stretch more than earlier, but you just keep me clued in, yeah?"

"Yeah."

There's a new sensation at your core, of wetness and something rigid. He's moving against your folds, finding no purchase in the remnants of earlier on, but then he nudges your clit and you jolt upwards and that's when he finds what he was searching for.

He nudges in quickly at first, enough to make you whine a pained sound. He matches it with a low grumble, a vibration right by your ear.

"You okay?" he's quick to ask, head rising to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah, just- slow, please."

"I've got you."

He doesn't move for a beat, eyes trained on the scrunch of your nose. He kisses it and feels you relax, so he keeps kissing, quick flashes over your forehead, your temple, your cheek. Each one brings new relief and as your back hits the bed again, he eases himself in a little more.

The stretch is definitely different; more. There's a burn, but it doesn't completely hide the wave of pleasure you get in the fullness.

"Gonna go a bit more," he tells you, and he does just that, going half an inch further, still watching for any sign of discomfort.

When you bring your knees up by his hips, he knows you're past the worst of it. He chants praise, telling you that you're doing so well, taking me so well as he keeps going, all the way until he's seated inside you, up to the hilt. You breathe in a gasp, filling your lungs, realising you'd been holding your breath for too long. And as you open your eyes, you find him staring down at you with concern and something else.

"You good?" he whispers with his face so close you feel the words as they settle on your cheek.

"Yeah."

"Good girl."

He punctuates this with a kiss, and then another, over the hill of your jaw and onto your throat. Your hands claw up his back, pulling him in until you're sure that if he were any closer, you'd fuse into one.

"Okay," he finally says, lips against the peak of your shoulder. "I'm gonna move. I'll go slow at first."

"Okay."

The feeling of him pulling out is new and nice, but it's nothing compared to the opposite. The combination of the two, the repetitive motion he picks up, is something you want to chase forever.

As he moves, he quickens, trying his best to keep his eyes open and attentive; it's difficult, though, when you feel this good.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' tight, shit-"

"Eddie, this feels amazing, uh-"

Your stomach twists into a coil again, quicker this time, and tightens as he picks up the pace. Above you he's all guttural moans and pretty groans, his lips grazing your cheek each time he moves, and soon his thrusts become too much. You're panting his name and he's panting yours, and along with the sound of skin on skin, that's all you can hear until he speaks gravel-churned words into your ear.

"Shit, 'm so close, fuck- Gotta get you there, baby, huh? C'mon, need you to come for me."

His words are joined by sloppy fingers between your bodies. They fumble in the dark, prodding your belly before finding slippery purchase on your clit. Sparks light up your body and all you can do in response is let it arch into him with a yelp of his name.

"You close?" he asks.

"Yes, yeah, shit, yes," you splutter back. It's like a chase, and you're catching up, quickly, quickly, quickly.

All of a sudden there's a white-hot flash that burns every inch of your insides. You tense, your body yawning open for him, wide and wanting; he doesn't relent, thrusts harder than ever, chases you in return as he feels you tighten around him. You release, the coil snapping, and he brings the pace down to see you through to the end.

There's cotton wool in your ears again but you make out his praises: "That's it, that's it, atta girl… C'mon, I've got you, you did so well."

When your breathing turns regular and your eyes ease open, you feel a warm knuckle on your cheek. He's still going slow, rutting in and out of you with ease now, and when you finally look at him he asks, "Gonna keep goin', that okay?"

You nod, throat closed for the time being so you make it as certain a nod as you can muster. His thrusts become quicker again, and the more he speeds up the sloppier he becomes. You feel sensitive, too warm but also too desperate to see, hear, feel him come undone inside you. It's not long until your wish is granted; soon his groans turn to whimpers and whines, and he calls your name as he shudders to a violent halt. It's intoxicating, experiencing this from underneath him; if this is what everyone's been talking about all these years, you understand why.

The room sways and whistles as he rests his weight on you. His breath, right beside your ear, is like a hot, damp rag, pulling at your sticky skin and the thrum of rushing blood. You hear him groan and then the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. The bed bounces gently as he huffs and flops down beside you, and, god, you wish so badly that you could keep those flutters under control because his clammy hand finds yours between your bodies and it's nice to feel the affection he's so devoted to giving you.

Sighing, he says, "Shit."

You laugh, scrunching your face.

"Yeah," you agree, "shit."

He squeezes your hand.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. Really liked it."

"Okay for your first time?"

"Yeah." You turn onto your side to face him, looking up at his face. There are a few curls stuck to his pretty pink face, and you admire the bob of his throat as he swallows and the squeeze of his hand in yours.

"You're really pretty," you tell him. You're not sure if this is the post-O haze the magazines talk about, or if it's some kind of clarity, or if it's just that you have this boy in the palm of your hand and you suddenly can't bear the thought of letting him go. Instead you want to plant anchors, heavy lines that will keep him right where he is.

He turns his head to look at you and you see him flush even more.

"So are you," he whispers, with another squeeze and a kiss to your forehead.

There are a few minutes of quiet after that. The light outside is gone for good, so he's glowing a low golden in the light of your bedside lamp. He kisses you again with a fondness that surely shouldn't come with this exchange, which you had rationalised as just that: a transaction, a mutual agreement to get something done.

You see him open his mouth, as if to speak, but close it again, so you reach a tentative hand up and brush some hair from his eyes and trace your knuckle down his temple, urging him.

"My friends," he begins, hesitant, "they're having a party, next weekend. Steve, he only lives round the corner, we passed his house on the way here... You wouldn't wanna come, would you?"

"With you?" you whisper into the fizzy darkness.

"Yeah." He smiles, eyes fluttering shut under your sweeping fingers. "With me."

"Is it a date?"

"It can be, if you want. Or we can just, y'know, go as friends, or whatever."

"No one's ever asked me on a date before."

He smiles, and it's soft and curled with an affectionate pity; one that says I'm sorry, that's not fair, it's nothing to do with you.

"Well, wanna come?"

"I'd love to."

He pulls your hand up and brings it to his mouth, where he kisses your knuckles. Goosebumps raise across your thighs and arms, and you realise you're cold.

He seems to sense your discomfort because you feel him shift beside you. He pulls you up with him and helps you climb off the bed on wobbly legs.

"I should pee," you tell him, heeding the warnings of girlfriends past.

"You should," he says, a little deflated.

You don't move, though. To move would be to acknowledge the end – the end of the transaction, of the favour. It's not something you want.

"I, uh," you begin, stumbling, "Don't- Do you want-"

"I can go now, if you want-"

"No, no, it's okay, I mean, you can go if you want, that's fine, I just-"

Your eyes are darting all over the carpet, skimming discarded clothes, so you don't notice him reach up until he's touching your face, holding it in his palm.

"I'll stay, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

He smiles at you, sticky with fondness and you can't help but smile back.

"I'm gonna shower," you tell him, leaning further into his grasp.

"I'll be here."

-

"Munson! You made it!"

In the middle of the busy room, there's a tall guy, broad and burly, like all the jocks you went to high school with. He's startlingly pretty, with golden hair and honeyed skin, a wide, bright smile plastered across his face.

He steps on unsure feet over to Eddie, who is stood partially in front of you; you're cowering behind him, willing the courage to lift you and push you into the arms of strangers. For now, holding his hand will do just fine.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie greets, meeting him in one of those boyish embraces. You look around, taking in the faces; it's not the level of the high-school parties you used to go to, and definitely not the circus of the frat ones you've sometimes found yourself at, but it's busy enough. Where the guy – Harrington – came from, in the living room, there's a circle of people who are all smiling in your direction.

"Who's this?" The guy is looking at you over Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie tells Steve your name, and then turns to you. "This is Steve."

"Hi," you say to him, smiling, trying your best to hide the cruel nerves.

"Nice t'meet you!" he beams back. It's infectious; your smile turns firm and genuine in return. "Here, come meet the gang."

"C'mon," Eddie whispers to you with a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls you through the entryway, into the large living room, following Steve. He drops your hand to give and return hugs, saying hello to each person. You stand and watch, unsure of what to do, until one of the girls – the first one Eddie greeted – appears by your side.

"Hey," she says, perhaps a little too close.

"Hi."

"I'm Robin." She sticks her hand out and you shake it clumsily.

Eddie's back, with his hand in yours again, on your other side. He calls her Rob and tells her your name, and then does the same for each person – Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Dustin, El – too many for you to remember tonight, but you have a feeling you'll see them again.

"Hi, guys," you return with a wave.

Everything settles after that. You take a seat next to Eddie on the couch, legs up and over his own, making conversation with Robin who you like a lot. Nancy comes over and introduces herself again and you find you like her, too.

And then Steve appears, having disappeared twenty minutes before. He's a little drunker, and he hands you and Eddie a can each. You take it gratefully and open it, taking a swig.

"So," he begins, sitting on the opposite side of the circle to yourself and Eddie. "You from Hawkins?"

"No," you tell him, and repeat the story you told Eddie.

"Sweet! So how'd you meet?"

You turn your head to look at Eddie and find him having done the same thing. His eyes are wide, just as wide as you're sure yours are.

"Uh," you begin, drawing out the sound to buy yourself time. 

"I did her a favour," he says, to your surprise, turning back to look at Steve with a sickly smile. "Just somethin' she'd put in the paper."

"That's so cute," Nancy says from behind you, her words chased by Robin adding a sarcastic, "Adorable."

The conversation moves on after that, and you turn around to Eddie again. He's looking back at you, his face pink and a smile tugging at his mouth. Before you can stop yourselves you're laughing, bursting into happy noises, bent double giggling.

He gives you another kiss, on the cheek this time, and quickly you settle back into conversations. The night is long and for the first time in a long time, it isn't lonely.

-

Hello! This is SO long - it really did take on a life of its own. I considered splitting it but couldn't find somewhere to do it, so I hope you enjoy this absolute beast nonetheless. I love you!

#ha ha I am sorry! #god it's long #I hope you love it <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie fic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie #eddie stranger things

[wonderlandwalker]

A Hero on Socks | Virgin!Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: You've always known your now boyfriend Eddie was a virgin, but with how worked up you've been while teasing him recently, you're not gonna let the first time be over that quickly

Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, mdni, virgin!eddie, established relationship, wrap it before you tap it obviously, overstimulation, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Couldn't resist my Eddie Munson fixation any longer. The title comes from a Dutch expression and it basically means someone who seems courageous but is actually a nervous little shit and it seemed perfect for Eddie. I haven't written in a little while so I hope this is still good <3 (This accidentally posted early so enjoy xx)

The two of you had been dancing on a delicate line of 'just friends' for a while now, and you're not even entirely sure what the turning point was, but eventually you crossed it, now officially being able to call Eddie Munson your boyfriend.

He made heart eyes at you every time you walked in a room, and not a single one of your friends failed to point this out when you told them you got together, none of them the slightest bit surprised. 

It might be a new relationship, but you have known each other for years now, and you knew how to get what you wanted from Eddie. So yes, you knew he was still a virgin, but you failed to see how this would make a difference to you, you didn't care, people shouldn't have to worry that others will hold that against them. What you hadn't counted on, however, was how shy he actually turned whenever you started to tease him.

While you were still friends he would flirt with you unrelentingly, constantly making suggestive comments and touching you in one way or another. But maybe the fact that nothing was supposed to come of it gave him the boost he now seemed to have lost, because whenever you slipped your hand underneath his shirt when you were on the couch next to him, every moment you tried to heat up a kiss, he would go rigid, you would feel his body tense as he ceased any and all actions to create some distance between you. 

You asked him what was going on, asked him if he didn't want to have sex with you, and you had never seen him swivel his head in place so fast, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at you, sputtering to tell you that wasn't the problem at all. And that's when you learned that the dungeon master of the hellfire club was in fact nervous. 

And really, it was quite cute to see the blood rush to his cheeks when you took your top off, his Adams apple bobbing as you sucked on his pulse point. The boy was downright bashful. 

As the days passed, you found more and more ways in which to get a rise of out him, in more ways than one. From walking into the chill living room without a bra under your t-shirt to not so subtly grinding your ass into him while standing closeby, but your plan began to backfire as you just wanted him more and more yourself, wondering how much longer your patience would hold up. 

The silent curses and groans had you losing your own mind with lust as the days passed, up until the moment he had finally snapped, dragging you into his bedroom in frenzy, trying to get you on top of him as fast as he could.

All of your hard work had led to this moment right here, you could hear his panting from underneath you, his breath becoming more shallow as the muscles in his abdomen started to twitch, and if you weren't so lost in pleasure yourself, you might have teased him for how fast he was becoming undone. 

It's only been a few minutes, and there's a heat creeping up on his neck, you can't resist bending over to meet his lips in a searing kiss. When you move on to mouth at the soft skin of his neck, delicately sucking hickeys into it, the sounds that leave him are nothing less than sinful.

His hands have a death grip on your hips, trying to ground himself but miserably failing every time you grind yourself further into him. You're trying to figure out what he's saying, but it's no more than mumbling in-between his moans of your name, and with how hazy your head is you don't have it in yourself to figure it out. It's only when he suddenly slams his head back against the pillow, face screwed up in a way you can see the small crease between his eyebrows as he curses wildly that you pick up on the fact he wasn't just close, no, he just came. 

At any other time you would have found it adorable, you would have giggled and coed at him softly as you assured him with a sweet kiss that it's okay, but not this time. This time you've been getting yourself worked up from teasing him, from leading him up to this, from the feeling of finally, finally  getting his dick inside you. So no, not this time, this time you won't let the feeling in your stomach fade away, won't stop just yet. 

You feel his cum coating your walls, and the feeling only keeps you going further. It takes Eddie a few seconds to catch on in his state, heavy breath he's trying to catch and a permanent look of pleasure now etched on his face, but you know the exact moment he realizes from the small twitch his dick is already giving again.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" He sounds almost close to tears, but he looks at you with nothing but amazement in his eyes.

"You might be done Eddie, but that doesn't mean that I am" youre starting to get a little out of breath yourself, the sentence caught between small whimpers, he scrunches his eyes shut again when you tell him, and the most heavenly moan leaves his mouth as you continue to roll your hips. 

You knew deep down that if he truly wanted to, he could easily get you off him, even in a euphoric state, and so you knew that he is enjoying himself just as much as you are.

His eyes snap back open as you start to go faster, chasing that warm feeling bubbling up inside you, his dick is fully hard again inside you, and you don't doubt it has turned an angry red colour by now. 

"It's too much baby, I can't-" he doesn't manage to finish his thought from the guttural groan that follows him, and you can't deny it only turns you on further to see him this blissed out. 

He's struggling to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch you but gettig lost in the vision of it. Torn between pleasure and pain, the two merging together as you keep going. You can feel the satisfaction of it tugging at your heart as you keep moving, feeling his throbbing dick inside of you as you change the rythm. Eddie is still a mess underneath you, whimpering and groaning for anything, for everything, and it’s too fun not to tease him further.

“What do you want Eddie, tell me and I might give it to you.” You wonder if it even matters what you’re saying, sure that at this point he’s far beyond reach, but he doesnt dare leave you unanswered. 

“You’re so warm baby fuck, just please, please”

You lean into him again, leaving a trail of kisses down the spot on his neck you know make him go weak. “Please what, finish your sentences honey, or I’ll stop right now” The both of you know it’s an empty threat, you’re too close yourself to even dare abandon your goal, but the mere thought of it is enough to make Eddie give you anything you’d want, youre decently sure you could ask for the moon right now and he would go out to catch it for you.

“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad holy shit” He can feel you tightening around him as he asks, another pornographic moan leaving him, and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t basking in the fact you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

“Alright baby, because you asked so nicely, go ahead, cum for me.” you whisper the response in his ear, and it takes him mere seconds to find your lips, hiding away in the sweet escape of your tongue against his. For the second time you can feel his cock pulsing his cum inside of you, desperate for the realease. And it’s that feeling exactly, the feeling of his pleasure, that tips you over the edge yourself. The ecstasy taking over your mind, helplessly keeping rocking against him as you slump over, moaning his name as you cum. He catches you in his arms, already tracing patterns in your skin as you’re still riding out your orgasm. 

It takes you a few minutes to fully come back to earth, stars twinkling in your vision. You can feel Eddie’s steady breathing underneath you, his heart still thumping rapidly as you listen for his regular pattern of breaths, mimicking it in order to catch your own. 

“You alright?” His soft voice soothes you, always so gentle, even if most can’t see it. It makes you chuckle this time around, amused at the irony.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” He mirrors your expression now, a grin breaking out across his face.

“Never been better sweetheart” He accompanies his words with sloppy kisses all over your face, smacking his lips against you in a manner that has you giggling against him.

“Was worried it was too much is all” You look down when you tell him, and he cups your jaw, silently asking you to face him again

“There isn’t a world out there where there could be too much of you.” He kisses you slowly this time, not rushed, not chasing anything, simply enjoying the moment as it is.

You lift yourself up slightly, feeling him leave from inside of you, and when he does you already miss the feeling again. You feel his seed dripping out of you, revelling in how he filled you up until you were so, so full. He’s watching, and you can feel his dick make a small twitch at the sight as he’s holding his breath, completely fixated on it.

“Fucking hell-” he still can’t seem to tear his gaze away, and you’re not immune to the effect itself.

“Give me a few minutes and we can go for another round” You’re laughing at his antics now, his nerves seeming to have fully disappeared and the Eddie you know so well has made it back to you.

He coaxes you to the side to lay down next to him as he slides his arms around you, your leg tangling over his as you snuggle up beside him. Your limbs feel like jelly as he holds you, his fingers still delicately moving across your skin as you can hear his heartbeat evening out from where you're lying down on his chest. This was Eddie, your Eddie, a guy who put on a big show for everyone, but when he was with you got to see his true self, and it only made you love him more.

#eddie munson #eddie #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things smut #eddie stranger things #eddie smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie fic #eddie fanfic #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie

[gag-me-munson]

Eddie is the type to hold you close after sex. Even after a quick fuck he pulls you tight against his body, yours still cooling and calming down from the high he put you through.

His abandonment issues seep through after sex, wanting you to know that he isn't leaving and hoping, nay, praying that you stay with him, too.

Nose nuzzling your neck, Eddie pulls you tighter still, loving the fact that his cum is leaking out of you, loving that he made his mark.

"Don't leave me." He begs before he falls asleep against you. His matted hair against his face, a small whimper of satisfaction mewling from his lips.

#eddie #eddie fic #eddie blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson #eddie x gn!reader #blurb #stranger things #fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fluff #stranger things fanfiction

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Eddie Munson x Reader • Eddie is stressed out and hasn’t been able to make himself come while jerking off. Luckily, his best friend (you!) is there to help ♥️

If your friendship with Eddie hadn’t been so…comfortable…then maybe the question you asked him would have come across as strange. But the two of you had known each other forever, and felt safe discussing anything and everything. So when Eddie confided in you that he was feeling completely burned out and stressed from drama with one of his band mates, you naturally wanted to help.

“It’s just-.” Eddie stretched his arms over his head, lying back on the sofa beside you. “-It’s really got me down, (y/n). I hate conflict, you know? And especially with someone who’s a part of the band.”

You nodded understandingly as Eddie continued. “I don’t think I’ve been this stressed-ever. I can’t even jerk off anymore, which is just absolutely unfair.” Eddie laughed, but you could tell he was trying to play off something that was genuinely troubling him.

“So, you can’t come?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I get hard and everything, but when I get close, it just-.” He blew a little raspberry. “Gone.”

“Well maybe I can help?” you offered. Eddie’s eyebrows raised. “You mean like…help?” He waved a hand below his waist. “With this?”

“Mm-hmm,” you replied. “If you’d be okay with it. And, if you’re not, that’s cool-.” You shook your head. “I realize this is something we’ve never done before, so if the idea is gross, just forget I ever-.”

“-No,” Eddie interrupted, his voice softer. “It’s not gross. Not at all. Actually…” Eddie shrugged, his lips turning upward. “It sounds kind of nice...”

A silence settled between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Eddie scooted just a little closer, till his knee was touching yours. “So, how would we do this?” he asked. You could tell he was nervous, and you were, too. But the nervousness held a kind of sweetness, an innocence that only friends as close as you and Eddie could share. Maybe this situation would have been dirty, or taboo in any context other than the bond you and Eddie shared. But as it was, all things considered, the idea of helping your best friend get off didn’t seem weird at all…

“I guess we could start with a kiss?” you suggested, before breaking into a giggle. Eddie did as well, because the whole situation was a little surreal. “Um, okay,” he grinned, leaning in and placing his hand on your cheek. There was a brief moment of awkwardness, of giggly hesitation and noses bumping…but then, when Eddie’s lips pressed soft and warm to yours, the giggles and hesitation ended immediately.

Clumsy movements were replaced with delicate gestures, tongues gently exploring a world that felt both familiar, and brand new. Eddie’s fingers curled inside your hair, a nod of dominance that was so subtle, you would have missed it if it hadn’t stirred a heat between your legs. Eddie shifted his weight on the couch, his knee against yours nudging your legs apart slightly. His thumb massaged soft circles along your cheek, fingers coiled in your hair, his tongue gently wrestling with yours.

You took Eddie by the wrist and guided his hand lower, till he was palming your breast. He groped your soft skin with an intensity that had your nipple poking through the fabric of your shirt to meet Eddie’s palm. He groaned into your kiss as he felt your nipple hardening under his touch. The heat between your legs had shifted to an ache, a bittersweet pain that you tried to soothe by clenching your thighs together. The pressure wasn’t enough; you knew you’d need to come in order for the ache to go away.

As if proving just how in sync the two of you were, Eddie asked “can I touch you?” And you nodded your consent as Eddie’s fingers left your tit in exchange for the warm space between your thighs. He cupped his fingers together and slid them beneath your pussy, cradling your sex in his palm. He was massaging you through your clothes, but it felt so good you’d swear Eddie was touching your skin. His kiss moved to your neck, softly sucking between his lips as his mouth traveled over your shoulder.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathed, your voice like a prayer. He grinned against your shoulder, his mouth open and teeth lightly pressed to your skin. Eddie’s tongue swept a long and languid stroke up your neck and around the curve of your chin, his hand continuing to work between your thighs. You bucked your hips upward, humping against the heel of Eddie’s palm. The friction through your jeans added to the intensity. “That’s right, (y/n),” Eddie purred against your cheek. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”

And Eddie was right. The aching tension between your legs reached its peak, your climax shattering through you in waves. Eddie never stopped massaging your cunt throughout your orgasm, letting you rut into the base of his palm. You came down softly from your high, your skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Eddie was smiling at you warmly as he removed his hand from between your legs. “Feel better?” he asked, but you didn’t answer with words. Instead, you pushed Eddie back against the couch, making him chuckle in surprise. As before, his laughter died quickly the instant your hand closed over the outline of his erection bulging in his jeans.

Eddie drew in a sharp breath as you groped his cock through his pants. It had been awhile since anyone had touched him; Eddie needed this. His toes were curling in his socks as you massaged him, pretty little grunts spilling from his lips. You curved your palm around the outline of Eddie’s cock, rubbing from his base to his tip with a firm, steady pressure. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on the back of the couch as you worked him.

Eddie lifted his hips so he could rub upward into the curve of your hand. You knew Eddie was close when his eyebrows pulled together, and the sounds he was making rapidly changed from grunts to a string of curses. Eddie’s cock pulsed against your palm, a wet patch blooming in the crotch of his jeans. You watched Eddie’s cum darken the fabric, his hands balled into fists by his sides, the veins in his neck strained.

When his cock stopped twitching and his body relaxed, Eddie was panting and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Feel better?” you asked playfully, echoing his words from before. Eddie tugged you in for a kiss, grinning against your lips. “Shut up,” he chuckled, before pulling you back onto the couch for cuddles…

#stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson x you smut #eddie x you #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie #eddie munson filth #eddie stranger things #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #joseph quinn #eddie fanfic #best friends to lovers #stranger things fanfiction #st4 #stranger things four #stranger things season 4 #friends to lovers

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

eddie throwing your legs over his shoulders and gripping your calves while fucking you fast and deep , he has his mouth pressed against your leg ajar with drool seeping out, his bangs are sweaty against his forehead and hes whining, at the way his balls are slapping against your ass, he takes one look down and watches the way your cunt is sucking him back in , being greedy for him and he cums inside you, slipping out slowly to watch it leak onto your puckered hole , he takes his finger and rubs it gently soothing you when you cry out, his finger breaches your second hole and when hes in you’re gripping his finger so tight but he works it open enough to take the silicone cock that sits underneath his, needy and hard again. he leans in to press his lips to yours , taking your knee and wrapping it around his waist , both cocks nudging your holes & when he’s finally in you’re begging him to ruin you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader smut

[eddiesxangel]

But the thought of Eddie being so unapproachable and “scary” with everyone else, but when he is with you or talking to you he’s all

“I love you so much my sunshine, baby cakes, *kissy noises * no you hang up” kinda attitude!!!

twirling the phone cord around his finger while talking to you on the phone. One day the the hellfire guys over hear him on the phone not believing their ears bc that cannot be eddie talking?they start mocking him. The second he hangs up he is back to being all macho man again they start mocking him to his face but they start to get scared

Master list

#idk this popped into my head #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanons #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson concept #joseph quinn #joe quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #Eddie x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x male reader

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Not So Secret Admirer 💌

Fluffy mini fic, this is an 18+ blog so minors shoo!

💌

Eddie noticed you had been quiet all day Sure he could be loud, opinionated and liked to piss off Jason and his crowd on a daily basis, but he looked after his own.

You had joined Hellfire last year and took a while to come out of your shell, Eddie took you under his wing, was protective of you and though he would never admit it to anyone-you were his favourite.

He was also madly in love with you.

"What's wrong princess?" he murmurs to you and you shake your head, clearly not wanting to talk about what was on your mind.

Ideas of what could be wrong run through his head, were you sick? Was that butthead Carver bothering you in some way? He throws a glare in the assholes direction.

Carver noticed and makes a show of standing up and acting tough, the minute that Eddie flips him the bird, he sits back down again.

With that settled Eddie resumes his precious thoughts. Was it one of his sheeples annoying you? Eddie casts a critical eye over all of them, plots to maim the D&d character of whoever the culprit is in a particularly vicious manner during a campaign.

Finally you speak up.

"Simone was talking about all of the nice dates that Ted takes her on, I don't know... I guess I just wish someone would notice me like that" you avoid his gaze and a whirl of emotions go through Eddie.

Did you honestly not see how smitten he was with you? How protective and soft he could be with you?

The sad look on your face makes Eddie's chest hurt and he vows to bring a smile to your face. He loves your smile, the way your eyes light up and your whole body just radiates sunshine when you're happy about something.

He stews silently as he tries to think of something that will cheer you up, then he gets an idea and hopes it works.

...

There's a note that's been slipped into your locker, you can see it peeking out. When you open your locker to grab the note, there's also a bunch of pretty wildflowers tied with a band inside too.

Warmth floods through your stomach as you read the scribble of words on the paper.

You may not think people notice you but I do. You're all I think about princess, I hope this note makes you smile, because I'm sweating my ass of writing it.

Your Eddie

You clutch the note to your chest beaming, when you next see Eddie you'll finally be brave enough to tell him how you feel about him.

💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie fic

[k2padfoot]

Perfect

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.

warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).

A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!

“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”

“Look at her chicken legs.”

“Does she even eat anything?”

“She looks anorexic.”

“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”

When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.

It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.

You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.

You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.

The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.

Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.

You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.

A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.

A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”

In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”

A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.

You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.

After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.

“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.

“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll join you.”

A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”

Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.

“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.

Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.

Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.

When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.

After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.

Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.

In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.

As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.

Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs. 

“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.

At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.

“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.

“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.

A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”

A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.

“W-What?”

He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”

Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—

“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”

In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.

Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.

As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.

“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.

You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”

“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.

You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”

A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”

“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.

“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.

You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”

He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.

He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.

After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.

“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.

Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”

“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.

“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.

You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”

Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.

“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.

“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.

The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.

Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”

Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.

“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.

“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion

You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.

“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.

A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.

Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—

“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.

He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”

Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.

His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.

“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”

Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”

He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.

A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.

He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.

Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”

Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.

“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.

“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.

Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.

When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.

“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.

After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”

The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.

Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”

Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—

“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.

Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”

A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.

As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”

A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.

You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie supremacy #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fandom #eddie x y/n #eddie st4 #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader

[imjustagirl22]

Eddie Munson x reader Headcannons🌹

~ he looks like being a boyfriend is his full time job

~ Eddie Munson is a certified boyfriend

~ he was put on this earth to love like a big loser

~ it might have taken him 20+ years to get there, but he’s damn good at his boyfriend job

~ he will boop the readers nose at every opportunity

~ snuggles into the reader every morning, refusing to get up

~ big koala energy

~ makes the reader coffee/tea in the morning, even if he has to sprint to the kitchen to beat them

~ makes sure blankets are readily available for movie nights

~ and snacks, so many snacks just for the reader

~ and if he buys something new he will watch them try it from the corner of his eye

~ if the reader gets periods, you know he’s buying the whole sanitary products isle

~ he has no chill, he wants the reader to be prepared for any period emergency

~ will cuddle the shit out of the reader and make sure they’re comfortable

~ walks them to their door and will bow dramatically before leaving

~ but not without a kiss on the hand, cheek and nose and lips

~ loves to walk backwards to his van so that he can stare at the reader

~ doing the cutest little finger wave

~ definitely giddy 24/7, not a single moment this man is not giggling and kicking his feet

~ always helps the reader put their coat or jacket on

~ if they put it on by themselves, Eddie will take it off just to help them put it back on again

~ always sneaking glances

~ just a little glimpse because he misses the reader all the time

~ if they’re one seat away he needs to look at them

~ leaves little doodles everywhere for the reader to find

~ most of them wholesome, but the occasional doodle will be of a dick

~ charges at the reader full speed just to pick them up so gently and do a little twirl

~ nibbles the readers shoulder whenever he’s close enough

~ sometimes he will get up and walk across the whole trailer to nibble them, and then leave a little kiss

~ definitely makes the “num num” sound

~ wouldn’t put it passed Eddie to take of his jacket and place it over a puddle so the the reader doesn’t have to step in the water

~ being a boyfriend is just his job and he’s the happiest employee

~ employee of the month every month

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #eddie stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie x reader #x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie imagine #x reader headcanons #headcannons #eddie munson imagine #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #boyfriend #his job is boyfriend

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 14 Prompt: Airport and/or Bar

Tags: Established Relationship, Airport Pick Ups, Supportive Wayne Munson, Idiots In Love

wc: 1796 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Long distance isn’t the relationship Steve and Eddie had dreamed they had when they finally confessed their love together in the Spring of ’88, but they’ve been making it work for years now.

As far as Steve’s concerned they are experts at it now.

They talk every night. Steve from his bedroom in the apartment he shares with Robin in San Francisco, Eddie from his own bedroom in the house he lives in with Wayne two towns over from Hawkins.

Steve tells Eddie about his long days at the office, the responsibilities he’s been shouldered with now that he’s earned his father’s trust to run the West Coast branch of the organization by himself. A feat Steve didn’t even know he wanted until he finally sat down with his father years ago to learn what the man did.

Eddie listens tentatively and returns the favor with his own stories of the day. Life at the plant alongside Wayne isn’t his dream, but it's a steady job that pays the bills. Besides, he likes being near Wayne. Can’t imagine a world where he’s not a hop, skip, and a jump away from the old man who quite literally saved his life more than once.

It’s not like they wanted to create professional lives thousands of miles apart from each other, but it's the cards they’ve been dealt. Sure, they’d love to be under the same roof for more than a week at a time, but they make it work. The real truth is that they’re both too afraid to make the other sacrifice all they’ve built for the other. Resentment is a relationship killer and neither is ready to jeopardize the cozy relationship they’ve built.

So, they make do.

Steve visits often, a perk of being the boss of his branch. Occasionally, he writes them off as business trips and checks in on the Midwest branch while he’s in town. Other times he uses his sick days and vacation days to make the trip out to Indiana.

Every time he flies into the Indianapolis International Airport, Eddie is waiting for him at the end of the jet bridge. The first time, he was decked out in a suit a size too small. A chauffeur cap askew on his head and a handwritten sign with “S. Harrington” scrawled across it that he had leaned on a luggage cart like all the other private chauffeurs waiting for their clients. Steve couldn’t help but burst into laughter the moment he saw him, running to Eddie and giving him a hug that the rest of the passengers side-eyeing them — not because they were two men, but because it was one hell of a greeting for a paid chauffeur.

From that moment on, Eddie committed to the airport greeting bit. The next time Steve flew to Eddie, he was greeted with a giant sign that read “Congrats! You survived prison!” A few times after that, Eddie was standing there with a bouquet of blue balloons and a banner that said “It’s a Boy!” There was the time he pretended Steve was his cheating boyfriend and had a total meltdown at the gate only to leave with Steve hand-in-hand three minutes later. And he can’t forget about the time he roped Dustin and the rest of the kids into making the trip, the lot of them waiting for Steve at the gate with various signs claiming to be his long-lost children.

Aside from getting to spend time with Eddie, his airport arrivals were always the highlight of the trip. He knows Eddie gets a kick out of the theatrics, but there’s a part of him deep down that wishes he could be on the receiving end of the airport shenanigans at least once. Unfortunately, Steve has yet to repay the favor since he’s usually the one making the trip out to Indy.

All that’s about to change though, because after years of asking, he’s finally convinced Eddie and Wayne to take their holiday vacation and come spend Christmas with him and Robin in sunny California.

Which means one thing: It’s Steve's turn to create an epic airport arrival sign.

“How am I supposed to top any of these?” Steve asks, sifting through the hoard of airport signs he’s kept over the years. A beautiful tapestry of their chaotic relationship.

“I don’t think Eddie can be topped,” Robin says, searching through her own stack of neon poster boards.

“I mean…”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

Steve throws his hands up in defense, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his laughter at bay. The last thing he needs is to upset Robin before they come up with a sign idea.

Sighing, Steve lets his head thunk against the mountain of signs. It’s no surprise Eddie is the more creative one of their relationship, but he feels bad he can’t come up with anything even remotely as good as the signs Eddie’s been creating for years.

“Look, Steve,” Robin says, patting his back. “You’re never going to outdo Eddie. He’s theatrical at his core. He lives for being a menace. Stop trying to channel him and channel yourself instead.”

“Is this your way of telling me you find me boring?” he asks, gazing up at her.

“No, dingus! I’m just saying, channel that Romeo side I know is in there,” she says, thrusting her finger into Steve’s chest. “Be sappy. Eddie’ll appreciate it.”

In the end, Steve takes Robin’s advice. He cuts a fluorescent green poster board into a wonky heart — one side longer than the other. Tries three separate times to get “Welcome Home” centered in the middle before he gives up and freehand it. And then, for extra flair, he uses a bottle and a half go glitter glue on the whole thing. They’re going to be finding specks of glitter for weeks, but he thinks it’ll be worth it.

According to the signs, Eddie and Wayne’s flight has already landed and is en route to the gate. Steve stands nervously by the sky gate exit. The sign is still folded in half, wrinkled at the edges from how much he’s fidgeting with it. He had no idea how nerve-wracking it is being on this side of things. It’s silly really. He knows Eddie is going to be happy to see him, sign or no sign, but he can’t help but be a little on edge.

Thankfully, the doors open and a flood of travelers start disembarking from the plane. Steve stands on his top-toes, scanning the tired faces in search of Eddie and Wayne. As the crowd thins out, Steve starts to worry. Maybe they changed their minds? Maybe they missed the flight. Maybe he’s at the wrong gate?

Shit, what if he’s at the wrong gate?

A glance up at the digital sign above the exit, confirms that Steve is in the right place. He breathes a sigh of relief before he goes back to scanning. They have to be coming out soon, he thinks, and starts to unfold the sign. He holds it low, clutched over his chest until he spots a familiar head of unruly curls.

Hoisting it over his head, he shouts, “Eds!”

Eddie’s head whips around at the sound of his voice, eyes shining when he spots him in the thinning crowd. Steve has all of five seconds to brace himself before Eddie launches himself into his arms, crushing the sign between their bodies.

It’s not uncommon for the two of them to hug when they reunite at the airport, but this feels different. Eddie’s arms are tighter around his neck and he’s pretty sure he can hear him sniffling, body slightly shaking in his grasp.

“Eds?” Steve whispers into the mess of curls. “You okay?”

Eddie nods, slowly peeling himself away from Steve. With a little bit of space between them, Steve watches as Eddie’s eyes glance between the smushed sign and Steve’s eyes. Back and forth, back and forth.

Shit, is it too much?

“Really?” Eddie sniffles, using the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away a tear. “You want this to be our home? Together?”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Steve certainly hadn’t planned for that. Sure, he’s secretly been hoping that the trip out here would get Eddie and to a lesser extent Wayne to realize how great the city is and finally bite the bullet and move out here. Start the mechanic shop they’ve been planing for years. But Steve knew better than to set expectations too high. He’d never ask Eddie to move for him, just like Eddie would never ask Steve to move back for him.

But now, seeing Eddie smiling, eyes glassy with tears. Well, shit, maybe he should have asked him.

“Wait, you want to move in with me?”

“Sweetheart. I’ve wanted to live with you since the moment we said I love you on the Henderson’s porch.”

It’s not news to Steve, per se. They’ve talked at length about what living together would be like; especially in those early days when their relationship was in that blissful honeymoon phase. Still, the words come as a shock to Steve who stumbles out of Eddie’s grasp for a moment.

Running a shaking hand through his hair, he locks eyes with Eddie. “Why the hell have we been doing long distance for a decade?” he laughs, yanking Eddie back into his arms.

“I thought you weren’t ready! I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Baby,” Steve breathes. He can’t believe this. Have they seriously been suffering in silence for years for nothing? Christ, they’re idiots. “Of course, I want to live with you! I just didn’t want to make you move.”

“Jesus Christ,” Wayne grumbles, shaking his head. He stumbles his way towards them, throwing a hand on both of their shoulders. “You two are idiots, you know that? Told ya both you needed to communicate what ya wanted!” He rolls his eyes, shoving them both. “Could’ve been livin’ in the sunshine instead of snowy Indiana for years now.”

“Hey, who said anything about you moving with us?” Eddie asks, tearing his eyes away from Steve to stare at his Uncle.

“Hate to break it to you, boy. But wherever you go, I go. S’the Munson rule.”

Steve can’t help but laugh as he pulls both of them in for a hug before ushering them through the bustling airport. They fetch their bags and make it safely into his car before they’re on the way. As he pulls away from the San Francisco Airport, Eddie immediately reaches for the car radio.

Before he has a chance to change the channel, the crooning voice of Perry Como starts singing “(There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

[pullhisteeth]

worry lines | eddie munson

requested here -`♡´- your ex turns up and Eddie gets jealous. idiots in love! 4.7k

cw !!! for a borderline abusive (ex-)boyfriend. 18+ please and thank you x

contains hurt/comfort, fluff, jealous!Eddie, fem!reader, conflict, shitty ex-boyfriend. everyone’s in their early 20s

-

He was cruel, Eddie knows that much. Cruel enough that it took weeks and lots of gentle handling to coax it out of you. 

You were a shell of yourself until you weren’t. Eddie doesn’t know the details, because who would he be to make you relive it if you didn’t want to? But he knows enough to sear a tar-black scorch mark in his gut, a branding, a fury reserved only for him.

And he’s perhaps a little oblivious to it, but Eddie’s patience never went unnoticed by you. The two of you might be like parallel lines - apparently doomed to just miss one another forever - but you’re still filled to the brim with giddy love for him. The fact he stuck around through it all only adds fuel to the fire. Something unruly burns behind your eyes every time you think about him.

“What about this one?”

You hold up a record and show him the front while you peer at the back. Eddie looks up from the stack he’s been flipping through for the past three minutes.

“Garbage,” he mutters, eyes back on his busy fingers. 

“What?!” you exclaim, mouth wide and attempting to hide a grin. You’re fighting him for fun, really; you’re already putting the record back where you found it. “It came out, like, a month ago! How’ve you heard it already?” 

“Gareth’s mom got it for him for his birthday,” he tells you without looking at you, side stepping only slightly to move onto the next box of albums. He’s close enough now that you could lean over and bump his shoulder with your own. You don’t.

You sigh, though it’s bright with amusement. You go back to your own shelf, eyeing up the scarce new releases stock that Trax only manages to update every few months.

“No shit,” you whisper, grabbing with greedy hands at the record you’ve spotted. You catch Eddie’s attention, his own hands stopping as he looks over. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere!”

He smiles, not because he likes the album - it’s The Cure, and they’re far too British, even for him - but because he likes your smile. Sometimes you make a face, with your mouth twisted to the right, because you’re holding it back. You told him once that you don’t like your smile very much, that it’s too wide, too toothy. He couldn’t disagree more, and when he catches you in these moments, the ones just before you realise you’re grinning and close your mouth, he cherishes it.

“You want it?” he asks, tone nothing but genuine.

“Fuck off, Eds,” you say anyway, still smiling. He’s lapping it up. “I can buy it myself now, don’t need your filthy drug money.”

He elbows you softly with an expression of faux offence. “Hey, y’didn’t mind my filthy money all those times it got you food at Benny’s.”

This makes you giggle, and Eddie is on cloud nine.

You tear your eyes away from the cover to meet his and he damn near keels over; it’s like a mallet on his temple, a slap across the cheek. He could look at your eyes forever and it’d never not hurt.

“Can I buy you one?” you ask him, adding “please?” when he gives you a look like he’s about to tell you no.

“Absolutely not,” he says, still grinning.

“But you’ve bought me so many!” You’re closer now, toe to toe with him, beaming back at him and gripping the record between clenched fingers. “I make my own money now. Consider it me payin’ you back, or at least starting to.”

“You don’t have to pay me back,” he mutters, “I like buyin’ you records. At least it meant you listened to somethin’ other than this shit.” He bumps the bottom of the cardboard sleeve with his fist.

“Hey,” you bite, pulling it out of his reach. “I like The Cure.”

“I know y’do, that’s the problem.”

You look at him for a beat, one so brief he only just gets a chance to take in your pensive face - adorable - before you scrunch your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.

“Suit yourself,” you say, turning on your heels and marching down the aisle, heading for the cash register.

He watches you cross the store, the way your walk shifts from comical to confident. This walk is familiar to him; it’s your I’m-nervous-because-I’m-in-public walk.

His eyes are still on you when you take your change from the girl behind the desk. He watches you pocket it, and catches your self-satisfied smile as you turn. And then he watches as it falters, and your face drains of colour, and he feels himself walking over to you before he has time to think about it.

You’re looking at the door, where the bell’s just chimed, and the bottom of your stomach’s fallen away. Heart in your throat, you stare blankly at the man who just walked in.

“Oh, hey,” he says, though he may as well be on the other side of the glass for the way he sounds so distant. He shakes snow off his hair and you feel the ghost of it between your fingers. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

You feel Eddie before you can muster up a response. He stands behind you, just close enough that, if you wanted to, you could reach behind and take his hand.

“Hey,” he says lowly, just by your ear, words for you alone. “Who’s this?”

There’s something simmering in his voice, something defensive. He knows.

“Uh, hi,” you squeak, fingers clutching the plastic bag you’re holding to keep them from shaking. “Hi- uh, Eds, this is, uh-”

“Tom,” the man says, sticking a gloved hand out to Eddie. You feel him shift slowly behind you; his eyes move between the back of your head and the man in front of you a few times before he returns the gesture.

He��s handsome, Eddie thinks. Better looking than he is, anyway. Cleaner, softer; none of the hard edges Eddie harbours that he doesn’t know you think are soft as anything.

“We used to go out,” you say quickly, before Tom tries to explain it himself and makes you feel smaller than you already do. You hope Eddie gets the hint.

He does. The burning in his gut flares and his hands clench into fists without him meaning them to.

“Eddie,” he states, sharp and blunt.

“We were just, uh- We’re headed out,” you say, and the way you’ve come over all nervous and quiet is almost enough to make Eddie’s heart split right down the middle. He hovers a hand over the small of your back and steps around you, around Tom, until you follow him.

“Well, see you around,” he says as the bell chimes again and Eddie damn near pulls you out into the snow.

The cold, damp flakes that land on your flushed cheeks are a sweet relief. So are Eddie’s hands, which wrap around yours to take the bag from you. He doesn’t miss how they shake.

“Fuck,” you breathe. The air escapes your lungs and doesn’t return for a second, long enough that you have to think to inhale. Eddie looks you over, desperate to pat you, fawn over you, kiss the snowflake off the bridge of your nose.

He opts for something safer. “You alright?”

The busy Indianapolis sidewalk doesn’t allow for too much fussing, and you’re quietly grateful for the bustling Saturday afternoon crowd pushing the two of you along and away from Trax.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, breathless again, trudging through stomped-over snow. “Just took me by surprise.”

“Yeah, no shit. When’d you last see him?”

“When I picked up my stuff from his place.”

“Shit.”

You walk aimlessly around the corner, until Eddie begins to lead the way. Wordlessly you follow him for six blocks, and think to yourself that maybe he’s getting you as far away as he can.

He knows a coffee place, apparently, one so much better than any of the ones around Trax that you know are just as good. He ushers you into the warmth and buys three pastries - one each and one to share - and you eat until you’re not thinking about Tom anymore.

-

Robin sidles into the booth beside you, the familiar shape of her slotting into your side without care. She nudges her hip into yours, a wordless signal for you to move around and make more space.

The six of you squeeze around the tiny table as Eddie and Steve place drinks down across it. Pints of beer, far too big glasses of wine and six sickly coloured shots decorate it and all of a sudden you’re counting to five and banging a tiny glass on the varnished wood.

It tastes of sour apple and coats your lips with a shiny, sugary lacquer. Eddie sits opposite you harbouring a fiery urge to lean over and kiss you clean.

You grin at him, missing the flicker of affection in his tipsy eyes, and lean into Robin, who takes a swig from one of the pint glasses.

“Rob!” Steve shouts, reaching over and grasping at the glass. “You asshole, that’s mine-”

“What’s yours is mine, dingus,” she slurs, her dopey smile met not by something frosty but by Steve’s own grin. The tenderness inside your stomach is just as sickly as the shot; you’re drunk on sugary liquor and an unbridled love for your friends.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The bickering stops as Eddie raises his glass from the table.

“A toast,” he says, “to the newly-weds.”

You grasp your own pint and raise it too, along with everyone else, as Nancy and Jonathan beam back at you. They’re the picture of happiness, her rosy cheeks blooming from joy and champagne, his smile so wide you’re scared he might split in two. Nancy’s so pretty in a simple, short dress, Mrs Wheeler’s pearls around her neck, and Jonathan looks so smart in his suit, fresh from the dry cleaners courtesy of Joyce. A long day of family celebrations ends here, in this bar on the east end of Indianapolis, four walls that have seen the six of you grow up and into yourselves.

Nancy and Jonathan thank everybody, and Steve disappears without a single one of you noticing, reappearing with a new round of shots. Robin takes your hand in hers and squeezes, which tells you that she’s putting off crying. You’ve already covered the shoulder of her new shirt in tears. Happy tears.

If some benevolent force happened to be looking down and caught a glimpse of your happy little table, they’d find that your mind and Eddie’s look very much alike right now. Dizzy daydreams of a future neither of you are confident in, that neither of you think the other would ever even dare to consider.

The distant call of your name pulls you up off Robin’s shoulder. You hear it again, and the voice it’s called in sends your blood running cold. Regardless it beckons you and you turn to look, seeing him approaching like a fucking stalking lion.

“Oh,” you breathe, “hi.”

His unwelcome hands spread over the back of the booth, his fingers brushing the back of your neck. You bristle.

He grins down at you and then looks up and around at everybody else. “Hey, guys. I guess these are your friends?”

All you can do is look up at him. Eddie can see you recoiling and his stomach churns.

“Oh, hi again,” Tom says, spotting Eddie. This is your nightmare situation, frankly, and you’re afraid of where Tom might take it.

“Hey, man,” Steve says. His words are lopsided because he’s three pints and four shots in and too giddy to recognise this for what it is.

“Steve, right?” Tom asks. His knuckles whiten as he grips harder.

“Mm-hm,” Steve hums, leaning just enough to the left that Eddie has to push him upright. In the brief moment he’s preoccupied with his untrustworthy friend, he doesn’t see the way Tom dips his head to meet yours, or the attempt at a kiss on the cheek that you dodge, or even the quick words whispered in your ear. He does see you flush, your face, already warmed by wine, becoming even brighter. Before he can ask what’s happening, Robin’s scooting out to let you stand, and Tom’s hand’s on your waist and you’re off to the bar together.

Nancy shifts uncomfortably beside Jonathan, her hands on the table. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

“Fuck,” Jonathan breathes.

“No way,” Robin barks, almost loud enough for Eddie to chastise her; you’re only twenty feet away.

Despite the stretch of time separating this moment from your last one with him, Tom’s hands haven’t become any less curious. They paw at you, never settling but instead trying each possessive spot he loved to frequent before you left him. Your waist was his favourite, but you’ve felt the unwelcome impression of his palm on each arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, and when he goes for your hip you twist just enough that he’s forced to drop it.

He’s telling you about his promotion. When you left, he’d been clamouring for it, doing everything he’d once confessed to hating: sucking up to his boss, shmoozing, working late. It pays well, apparently; well enough that he’s got his own place. It’s a five minute cab ride away. Want to come see it?

“Why would I want to do that?” you ask him, emboldened by the fiery rage his wandering hands are reigniting within you.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, cooing your name with a sincerity so false that you taste the saccharine flavour of it on your gums, “you’re not telling me you haven’t missed me, huh?”

“No,” you tell him honestly, “I haven’t.”

“What, you with that metalhead or something?”

“Eddie is just a friend”, you bite.

“Yeah, right,” Tom scoffs, slamming his glass on the bar. He’s leaning closer, crowding you, and there are too many people behind him and all of a sudden you’ve lost sight of your table. “Knew I was right to put a stop to that.”

“Fuck you, Tom,” you spit, trying desperately to wriggle free. “I want to get back to my friends now, please.”

“Had his fuckin’ hands all over you the other day,” he continues, ignoring you. “Bet he tried it on when we were together, didn’t he?”

“No, he- Fuck, Tom, will you please just let me out-”

Eddie catches glimpses of you between passing bodies. He sees the way Tom’s crowding you and how you’re squirming and, honestly, he wants to walk into the sea.

Tom was never introduced to your friends. It was mostly his own choice, but Eddie and Robin and everyone else saw it for what it was. You just managed to get out before he cut you off from them all completely.

Now, in the low light of the bar, he’s not so certain that you’re done with him. Sure, you seemed unnerved when you bumped into him at the record store, but he begins to wonder if maybe you’d just been caught off guard, and if you’d thought about him since then. Had you called him?

“Hey,” Robin mutters, leaning over the table to Eddie with her eyes on you, “I think- I don’t know, she looks annoyed.”

Finally, there’s a gap in the crowd, and he sees it too. The pinch of your brow, and the squirming that isn’t squirming. You’re scared.

He stands so quickly that his head spins. He sees Nancy in his peripheral vision standing too, though she’s penned in by Jonathan and Steve. Eddie’s heavy footsteps take too long, he’s too slow; Tom’s hand is around your arm and he’s leaving, taking you with him, willingly or not.

He follows the silhouette of Tom, dark against the brash streetlamp light coming in through the glass doors. He can see the top of your head and feels himself pulled to you like a fish on a line.

He catches up just as Tom pushes the door open and stumbles into the snow, blinded by the fluorescent bulb in the lamp above. You feel the inebriation seep out of you with every second spent in the cold, your bare arms covered in goosebumps.

“Tom, what the fuck?” you spit, finally separating yourself from him. You feel the burn left by his tough grip on your upper arm. He’s still close, close enough that he can take your head in one firm hand.

“Just wanted to see your pretty face,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, his breath too hot on your face, “couldn’t see you properly in-”

“Hey.”

You turn just as Tom does to find Eddie in the doorway. His fists are clenched again and so is his jaw; you know him well enough to see your own anger reflected back at you.

“You okay?” he asks, looking at you, tender as always and it does something to dampen the fiery rage you’re keeping at bay. You nod as Tom drops his hand and scoffs.

“See,” he spits, “loverboy won’t leave you the fuck alone.”

You take three steps back. Eddie comes closer.

“Go home,” he says to Tom as you reach out and take his fist into both hands. He relaxes, and you wind your fingers together. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Tom says, “you can’t be serious? Look at him, babe, he’s…”

“Can we go back in?” you whisper to Eddie, whose stern face is beginning to worry you. He says nothing but tugs on your hand and, to your relief, Tom seems to back away around the corner as you retreat indoors.

The door shuts and Eddie turns, but before he can say anything you throw your arms around him and push your face into his neck. He’s startled, but not so much that he can’t return it, his own arms around your back, the pressure a welcome thing.

“Hey,” he coos, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Thank you,” you say, muffled by his shirt. “Thank you.”

He pulls back, too worried to care to hug you any longer. Instead he lets himself fuss over you, a tentative hand at your jaw as he looks you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you finally say, sighing. “I hate him.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. “I do too.”

“Thank you for not hitting him,” you murmur.

His fingers hover by your ear and just as you think he’s going to touch you, he lowers his hand.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I knew you’d hate that.”

He takes your hand again, a gesture which sends both of you independently loopy, and returns with you to the table, where Nancy nearly falls over Robin to get to you. As you reassure her and take your seat again, sandwiched between the two girls, Eddie takes a long swig of beer.

“Hey,” Steve slurs, leaning over to you. “Did y’know Eddie’s ears go red when he’s jealous?”

You look back at him with wide eyes as Eddie gives him a swift thwack to the arm, telling him to fuck off.

“It’s true!” Steve assures you. “I saw it with my own eyes! Like, five minutes ago, I-”

He’s stopped by more of Eddie’s playful hitting.

Quietly, just to you, Nancy says, “It’s true.”

You turn to look at her. She’s got that sparkle in her eye. It appears when she’s got a plan, or an idea, or knows something.

“For a minute, it looked like you were enjoying it,” she continues. “I bet he could’ve burned this place to the ground with how jealous he was getting.”

She nods to her left, where Eddie is dealing with a still restless Steve. He senses you looking and meets your eye, and the pretty pink blush that covers his cheeks is enough to make you look away.

-

The coffee machine pings just as the doorbell goes.

You jump, startled by both noises. Leaving the coffee to stew you pad through the apartment and open the door slowly, making sure to hide behind it to save the postman seeing you in your pyjama shorts.

When you pull it back, you’re surprised by the sight of your best friend, standing at your door in his own pyjamas.

“Morning,” he says, chuckling lowly.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you let him inside. “Did you- Did you walk here in that?”

“God no,” he says, “have you seen it out there?”

Truthfully, you haven’t dared pull the curtains back yet. “No,” you admit, locking the door again and wishing you’d had the sense even in your drunken stupor to put your good pyjamas on. You pat the front of the crinkled cotton at the top of your thighs, smoothing it down to no avail.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” you tell him as you step over to the living room window and pull back the blind to reveal what can only be described as a blizzard.

Eddie comes in behind you with two steaming mugs. “Slept on Steve’s fucking couch,” he says, laughing again. “Dimwit couldn’t get himself into bed and then the weather got too bad for me to get a cab home.”

Steve lives two floors above you, in an apartment much the same as your own. His couch is small. Eddie’s back must hurt.

“How is he?”

“Steve?”

“Hm.”

“He’ll be fine,” Eddie sighs, throwing himself onto your couch and kicking his feet up, socked toes just missing the side of your bare thigh. “Probably regrets the fourth round of shots, but at least he had fun.”

“Did you have fun?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I mean- Of course.” He reaches over to pick up your coffee and leans over to pass it to you. “Didn’t you?”

You take it from him and sit back, sighing. “Yeah, yeah, just…”

Your throat is suddenly too thick to drink the coffee. You stare at it, the deep mahogany liquid pouring steam into the tepid room.

“How does he still manage to ruin everything?” you ask, the question more an abstract frustration than anything aimed directly at Eddie.

He stiffens on the other end of the couch. He knows you don’t mean Steve, that your mind is elsewhere, on the impatient hands that couldn’t keep themselves from pressing painfully into your arm or the coddling of his hot breath on your face out in the snow.

“Hey,” Eddie coos, softening when he notices your hands shaking. He takes the mug, his own hands gentle on you to save from startling you, and replaces it on the table. “Here, c’mere-”

You lean into him, pushing your face into the softness of Steve’s sweater that he’s wearing. You keep apologising - variations of I’m sorry spat out between quiet sobs - and he keeps telling you it’s okay. One hand holds your elbow while the other smooths up and down your back, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, and he exhales when he hears the smile in your words.

“Y’don’t have to thank me again,” he says. You lean back and the two of you sit as mirror images of one another, one knee up on the couch and the other foot on the floor. You wipe your eye with the back of your wrist. Eddie yearns to knock your hand away and do it himself, to clean you up and kiss you when he’s done. He keeps his hands to himself instead.

“I dunno what I’d have done,” you whisper, “I mean, I don’t think he’d have done anything, but I still don’t wanna think about it.”

“I don’t either,” Eddie agrees before he can stop himself.

You look at him. There are deepening shadows beneath his eyes that you’re sure the couch is to blame for, and his hair’s unruly, matted from what you can only imagine was an useless night’s sleep, but your favourite thing - the mellow brown of his eyes - is just as pretty as ever. So’s his skin, pale and imperfect where he’s inked the left side of his neck and you can see the very top of the scar that stretches over his collarbone. He broke it when you were both ten, and he still teases you about how quick you were to run from him when you saw the bone and the broken flesh. You’re desperate to know if it’d be warm under your fingertips, your lips, your tongue.

“Do your ears really get red when you’re jealous?” you ask him. You see him stiffen at the question, his eyes narrowing just so, as his hands flex over his knees.

“Steve’s an asshole,” Eddie says.

“I know-”

“But yeah,” he says, the corner of his mouth breaking loose into a smile, “He’s right. It’s stupid.”

You kick his foot with your own softly and laugh.

“Why were you jealous?”

“Oh, seriously?”

“Yes! Why were you jealous?!” you repeat, grinning.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, all dramatic and silly and you laugh until his restless hand lands on your knee instead of his own.

“I thought you were glad to see him,” he admits.

“I don’t know how you got that impression,” you say. You’re trying to ignore the soft rumbling in your chest, lest it take your breath away.

“Dunno,” he says, and suddenly he reminds you of sixteen-year-old Eddie, awkward and goofy, the boy you fell for.

“Well,” you say, “I’m very glad you came to my rescue.”

“I didn’t rescue you, you’re perfectly capable of doing that yourself,” he says, laughing. His knee knocks yours and his fingers spread until the tips of them are meeting the middle of your thigh.

“Still, it was a nice thing to do.”

He hums and you inhale as you place your hand on his. He looks up at you and the contact seems to provide some courage.

He says your name, and it’s softer than ever in the quiet of your living room. As far as the two of you are aware, there’s nothing beyond here; no blizzard, no hungover Steve two floors up, no shitty ex-boyfriends. Just you and Eddie and the string of starlight pulling you together.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a whisper, leaning in, already resting more weight on the hand on your thigh. Somehow, it feels like the most natural question in the world.

You nod. “Yeah, please.”

He closes the gap with his forehead to yours, tilting his head enough that his nose slots beside yours as he kisses you. You expected a peck, something nervous, but that’s impossible when there’s a decade of want behind it. He’s firm and certain as his hands finally take grateful handfuls of your hips, and your mouth burns as you kiss him back. He worries he’s being too handsy, especially after last night, but when you feel him retreating you take his larger hands in yours and keep them there.

This morning, as his tongue moves past yours, Eddie tastes like spearmint, coffee and tobacco. You miss the taste as soon as his lips paint tender kisses at the corner of your mouth and over the hill of your jaw, but you keen at the sensation anyway, arching into him.

“This okay?” he asks in a pant, pulling back and hiding a smile as he hears you whine.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You use shaky fingers to push curls back so you can see his face and, holding him in both hands, kiss the swell of his cheek followed by the other. “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me,” he says, chuckling.

“What do we do now?” you ask him.

He looks back at you, feeling more whole than ever, and notices the creeping worry lines between your brows. Pushing against your hold, he leans forward and kisses you there. The satisfaction of feeling you relax is enough to keep him going for a thousand years.

“Well,” he whispers, and his breath isn’t too hot like Tom’s. It’s warm and friendly where it blooms over your closed eyes. “Go take care of Steve, probably.”

“Kiss me again?”

He does, wordlessly, softer than before, once on your mouth and another on your forehead. You wind your arms around his back, and with cheek resting on the top of your head, he says those fateful words into your hair: 

“Love you.”

You squeeze without thinking, smiling into his chest.

“Love you too.”

-

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie imagine #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #eddie #eddie munson angst #stranger things au

[florestmoon]

Just His Luck. (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Previous. <> Next.

Summary: Eddie comes to a realization after a drug deal with Chrissy. As he struggles with this, he wasn’t sure why you began to pull away from him, afraid that you can tell exactly how he feels.

Warnings: Eddie’s POV. Slowww burn friends to lovers. Yeah still lots of angst because I love making y’all suffer these two idiots.

Word count: 7.5k?

A/N: my biggest writing flaw is that I hate writing fast pace. When I have an idea, I make sure to focus on small details and I will drag it the fuck out because I read slow burn fanfics and books the size of my head since the age 12 . That being said, I didn’t end this the way i originally thought. So maybe, MAYBE, it’ll be 4 parts. I’m sorry to those who hate that haha. Forgive me <3 THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT LETS GO.

Eddie use to never consider himself a lucky person.

He didn’t think he could be considered a lucky person when his father had made it clear how much he couldn’t care less about his own son. His drunken rants still a vivid memory.

Someone who’s lucky didn’t have to be forced out his childhood home and hike all the way to another town to find an uncle he wasn’t even sure would take him in.

A lucky person didn’t grow up being branded a freak and tormented by most of his classmates for something as simple as playing a fantasy game and listening to heavier music. A lucky person didn’t rely on selling drugs in order to support his uncle, and that said side hustle only adding a bigger target on his back in the small town.

That and many more shitty experiences that made up his life should be enough proof that he, Eddie Munson, was not lucky.

But then there’s you.

You being a part of his life overshadows all the bad luck that followed him. Eddie would go through it all again, his shitty childhood and the very hot and long walk from his own hometown to Hawkins, now that he knows you were waiting to enter his life the moment he stepped foot into that trailer park.

He remembers clearly the overalls you wore when you jumped up from the bike you were sitting on, when Uncle Wayne encouraged him to go outside after a day settling in his new home. You ran to him and introduced yourself with a smile that showed a missing tooth.

That was the moment he knew he experienced his first true luck.

Since then, Eddie could safely say he was a lucky person with the way you stuck by his side. It didn’t matter if his days contained the looks of disgust that were thrown his way, when he knew he would see you at the end of it.

Kind eyes, rid of any judgement, waiting for him.

He really is a lucky person, even if your stressed voice was pushing for a headache that morning.

“Eddie, can you please turn that music down. It’s not letting me see clearly!”You ask desperately from the passenger seat, before twisting your body to look at the back of his van to return looking through the piles of cassettes he had saved.

He laughs but continues to slam his palm on the steering wheel to the music. “I need you to rethink that sentence.”

“Eddie.” You warn and from the tone of your voice, Eddie quickly shuts off the music. You hum happily and return to your search in the mess of his van. After a few moments of you cussing under your breath, Eddie’s name being thrown there a few times and he has to refrain from slamming the breaks, before you pull yourself back into your seat.

“I shouldn’t even be letting you ruin that poor kids ears.” He states once he sees a cassette being shoved into your bag. “Lucas deserves one from my own personal collection.”

“Ha. Ha.” You roll your eyes and he watches you from the corner of his eye, seeing you place your feet up on his dashboard. “I know Lucas will like it. It’ll cheer him up and encourage him before the big game tonight.“

“Right, the game.” Eddie recalls, focusing back on the road. “I wonder what those idiots will tell me today at lunch.”

You hold in a laugh as he continues, “I know they’ll be scared to tell me. I can see their faces already,”

“Aw don’t be mean.” You pout cutely, placing your elbow on the passenger door and looking towards him. “They look up to you, and hate disappointing you. That’s why it’s taken so long to come clean.”

“It’s not being mean” Eddie shakes his head, “I’m not going to be the one to look for a replacement. And I’m not going to reschedule the campaign.” He adds quickly with a pointed look at you that is returned by you sticking your tongue out.

Brat. He thinks fondly. “Anyway, they need to figure that out.”

“Mhm, can’t wait to see them running out like headless chickens trying to find anyone willing to play.”

Eddie shrugs at that. Despite his annoyance at Lucas being taken by the dark side, Jason and his gang, he didn’t actually have hard feelings towards the kid. Who was he to tell him to not pursue something he enjoyed doing? It would be hypocritical of him. And he was mostly annoyed with Dustin and Mike, who haven’t said anything. “They’ll figure it out.”

He reaches over to turn up the music a bit now that you were no longer on the edge of biting his head, something he admits to enjoying a little bit too much. He remembers to mention, “Oh, you wanna hit up the diner to pass time after school?”

“Oh yes!” You sit up, looking at him excitedly. “Can we get a strawberry shake? I’ve been craving that all night.”

Eddie can’t stop the smile as he nods, pulling into Hawkin’s High parking lot. “How can I deny you from that?”

It was a shocker to Eddie when he was approached by Chrissy before he made it to the cafeteria that day. He has his fair share of customers that make up Hawkin’s popular kids. They were the ones to pay the most so he never rejected their offers, even if they later would spit nasty words to him in the hallways.

He never thought he would see the day Chrissy Cunningham would be asking for him.

But money is money. It wouldn’t hurt to see what the deal was. So he waited for the last 10 minutes of the lunch period, telling you and making you wait outside the woods. You complained about coming along but he wanted to play it safe.

He wasn’t fond of bringing you along to his deals. It’s not that he didn’t want you by his side, he did, but there’s been way too many times where his customers would direct their anger of prices to him or you. He didn’t want you to see that, or even deal with it.

“Don’t scare her off Eddie. I know she’s Jason’s girlfriend but she’s actually really nice! So, don’t go doing your usual sneaking up on others and being intimidating, remember that one time you got a bloody nose from it and -“

Eddie hands you his half finished soda can he bought from the vending machine to stop your anxious rambling.

You already finished the one he bought you, but you stopped your monologue and took a sip, content. It was so easy for Eddie to be able to keep you happy and distracted. It made him feel good. “I won’t. Wait for me here, okay?”

——

Chrissy seemed to be distracted when he walked up to the usual spot. Her eyes staring off the distance as he comes up behind her, “Hey.”

He thought his voice was soft enough, but she jumped in her spot and turned around towards him. Big eyes surprised before she lets out a breathless chuckle , holding her arm.

“Woah.” So much for listening to your advice. He holds his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

The blonde shakes her head, rubbing her shoulder and throwing him a quick smile before sitting down on the picnic table. “No I should have been paying attention. I was zoned out.”

Eddie nods before moving to sit across the table, placing the metal lunchbox on the table between them. Chrissy plays with the sleeve of her sweater as Eddie opens the box to reveal the bags of weed.

“So..” she stammers, looking between Eddie and his box. “How does this work exactly?”

“Oh you know, like any other transaction.” Eddie watches her, “except cash only, and uh, for obvious reasons. “ he tilts his head, “No receipts.”

She nods along before he holds a bag towards her, “I’ll do you a half ounce for, uh..20. What do you say?”

Chrissy stares at the bag, then sighs and leans forward to cross her arms on top of the wooden table. She glances behind her as though expecting someone to show up.

Eddie couldn’t help but feel a bit defensive. Looking past her before he shuts the top down. “Look, uh, I’m starting to get a bit worried here. I really hope this isn’t some set up.”

He thinks back to you waiting for him at the entrance to the woods. What if they saw you there first?

Chrissy looks at him stunned and shakes her head. “No! No, of course not.” She bites her lip then sags her shoulders. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You afraid your boyfriends going to pop up and catch you doing a drug deal with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” He tries to keep the venom from his voice. “Not up to deal with that right now.”

“No really, its-its not that. He’s not even my boyfriend.” She adds, looking at Eddie a bit exasperated. “Not right now? Anyway, I don’t know..”

Eddie mouth forms an ‘o’. He wasn’t expecting that. Chrissy looked back down at her hands and let out another sighs.

“Oh. Well shit.” He laughs awkwardly and leans against his palm. “Uh, sorry about that? Uh..” he shrugs at her when she looks at him again. “I’m kinda surprised, didn’t he express his undying love for you this morning at the prep rally.”

She smiles sadly as she recalls that earlier morning and nods, “It was an argument after. He gets really overprotective. He didn’t like me agreeing to go to a party with a few friends and one thing lead to another and,” she does a hand motion, “It got too much, and I said I wanted a break.”

He hums, tapping his finger on the table before shaking his head. “Oh so he’s that type. Cant say I’m surprised with how he carries himself.”

Chrissy smiles at that, “Yeah. I’m just still kinda sad about it, he means well. But I’m not fragile or anything..so I thought to try something..to make me not think so much about it and go against what he says. Is that stupid?” She asks timidly.

“No. Not at all. Happens to all of us.” He says, opening the lunch box back up. “Uh I do sell blunts, it’s pre rolled and all. It’ll be easier for you to smoke. Seeing as this is your first time..”

He rummages through the box then clicks his tongue. He forgot he smoked his last one that he had in his box with you last night. “Problem is I only have them back in my trailer. So if you really want, you can drop by tonight..or I’ll bring them tomorrow.”

“I have no where to be after the game anyway.” She shrugs, nudging a stick against the dirt under the table with her shoe. “I was suppose to be with Jason, but..”

“Okay, cool.” He looks down at the lunchbox then decided to try to a bit more comforting, with the way she still looked so down. “If it makes you feel any better. He may be a total dick. But it’s disgustingly clear he uh loves you.”

Chrissy smiles fondly at that. Eddie continued, feeling weird he was even talking on behalf of someone he hated, “and uh, sometimes people are very protective over people they care about and shit. I definitely don’t let the one I care about touch half the stash I sell.”

“Y/N?” She asks, seeming to have perk up a little bit. No longer slouching and her expression was lifting, feeling more comfortable with him.

Eddie smiles at your name, feeling warm. “Yeah. Y/N” He fiddles with the lighter he had taken out of the box moments prior. “But uh anyway. I’m sure you and Jason will get back together in no time, And you’ll be back to being Hawkins favorite Queen and King.”

He says the last part more sarcastically than he meant too, but Chrissy either didn’t notice or didn’t mind because she only blushes.

“I don’t think we could take you and y/n spots though. In being the cutest couple .” She teases lightly after a moment. Eddie freezing in his seat as he registers words, the lighter slipping from between his fingers. . “I always thought you two were so cute. How long have you been together?”

Together.

Him and y/n together.

“W-what..what?!” His laughs nervously, getting up from his seat once he felt his body back in his control. “Couple... Couple? We aren’t a couple.”

Eddie doesn’t know why but the idea had his heart beating fast and face flushing. Couple. You and him, a couple.

Why did he suddenly feel like he couldn’t breathe?

“Oh..” Chrissy frowns again, watching him begin to pace. “I’m sorry. I thought you were.”

“No. No, nope,” he shakes his head fast, looking around the woods as though he was searching for answer. “I mean, she’s my best friend. I’m her best friend. No wayyy man.”

He looks back at Chrissy who was watching him. Eddie notices that the confused expression slowly beginning to turn into an amused smile but hid it behind her sleeve as she looks at Eddie in a way that was making him freak out more.

“What? What’s that look for?” He walks towards the table and leans his hand against the surface. “I-I really don’t like that look Chrissy.”

“I didn’t give you a look, Eddie”

“Yes you did. You’re looking at me like..you know something I don’t!” He pushed himself away from the table again and walks away from the table.

Okay he needed to chill out. This is normal. A lot of best friends can be mistaken for a couple. He seen it happen with Steve and Robin. The amount of times Robin would deny it and act disgusted was too much for her to not be telling the truth anyway.

So he shouldn’t be feeling so surprised that Chrissy had thought that. It just proves you both were that close.

You both were definitely closer than Robin and Steve, that’s for sure. He knows that.

What he doesn’t know is why he feels his palms were beginning to sweat. He stammers through his thoughts.

“We can’t be dating. That’s ridiculous.”

“Okay” She says simply.

“Yeah. Because we’re best friends.” He says again, to remind himself. “Completely platonic. And it would be crazy for that to change? It’s not like she would even see me anything other than a best friend. So really, it’s impossible. What you’re saying is highlyyy impossible.”

He mumbles, ignoring how the thought bugged him a bit, shaking his head. “Yeah.” He finally says it firmly. That conversation was over. 

He’s barely aware of the faint sound of the bell ringing, “So. Uh, I’ll just see you tonight then. You can ride with me and y/n…who’s my best friend.”

Chrissy smiles sweetly and nodded. “Okay.”

—

Chrissy walked ahead and he came out the woods a few steps behind. You waved at Chrissy as she walked by before returning to a weird hop in place motion as you turned towards Eddie. He raised his eyebrow.

“Eddie you took so damn long and I feel like I’m going to pee myself because you thought it was a good idea to let me have two sodas, and we’re going to be even more late to class!” You complain, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along towards the school building. “Have you seen the way those bathrooms fill up ? It’s a like jungle in there!”

He didn’t pay a bit too much attention to the way your hand was wrapping around his wrist, before you eventually linked both your arms together. Because that was normal. You both were always touchy with each other, so it shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t a big deal.

And it wasn’t a big deal the way you were leaning in his space while you both sat in class after. Your body basically leaning across his lap as you stared down at the tic tac toe game he won fair and square. You glared down at his notebook before pulling away with an huff.

“Nuh uh, I don’t remember you putting that X . You did that when I was distracted.”

“That was my first turn. You told me to put it there because you accused me of using a cheating method before.”

“You’re so lying”

“Just admit it, I’m a master at tic tac toe.” He grins, flicking your forehead to push your buttons even more. “A man of many skills” You roll your eyes. “You could never beat me.”

“You underestimate me for the last time, Munson.” You begin drawing the 30th set of lines and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the side of your face as you thought hard on your first move.

A couple.

Eddie may have had fleeting thoughts about dating you before. Ones he always denied and pushed down because he never wanted for it to see the light of day. He may believe he’s lucky with you being his best friend, but he wasn’t insane. He couldn’t have that much luck in his life.

And he would never risk ruining the chance of that luck he does have. He never wants to lose it.

But Chrissy’s damn words kept echoing, confirming his secret fantasy that he wanted to be reality. And all those thoughts wouldn’t stop streaming in. Like Chrissy’s simple mistake broke the dam that was holding it all in.

Cutest couple.

You smiled happily when he let you win for the first time. Writing a 1-30 on top of the page proudly when he looks towards Chrissy who was sat a few seats towards the side of the classroom, and she was already glancing towards you both. She flashed him a knowing look, and he looked away. The blush back on his cheeks.

Oh he was so fucked.

-

You both did everything together. There wasn’t a time where residents in Hawkins wouldn’t see you both raiding a corner store for late night snacks, or driving around town blasting his music enough for complaints to be filed.

One quick knock at each other’s windows and you both were off to whatever was desired that day or night.

So he couldn’t understand why Gareth had invited only you out to pizza. When everyone knows you and Eddie go everywhere together. It’s common fucking knowledge for Christ sake.

And why didn’t you tell him beforehand?

“Well, I mean, you have to take Chrissy right?” you had argued.

He felt like a little kid that was told no for the first time when you dismissed him after, being forced to watch you leave the room behind Gareth. He won’t admit to anyone that he glared daggers at the brunettes head when he drove away with you in his car.

You should had been in Eddie’s van.

If you really wanted pizza, why didn’t you tell him and he would have given Chrissy her blunts then take you himself. You didn’t need Gareth when you had him!

Chrissy was quiet in the car ride, looking curiously through the tapes. She seemed to be carefully reading through the playlists when he finally broke.

“Okay so..you know how you mentioned about you thinking me and y/n being a couple?” He reminds her which she nods to, “was there..is there something that makes you think that?”

She seems to think for a moment, placing the cassette on her lap. “Well. You both are so comfortable with each other. The way you look at each other too, I remember Jason mentioning how lovesick you looked when we would pass you two in the hallway. And how..” she hesitates but giggles, “you kinda look like a lost puppy following her around.”

Lovesick. Lost puppy.

“Oh Jesus Christ, I’m so screwed.” He groans as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“You asked Eddie”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” Eddie really is itching to grab a cigarette right now. “I thought, you know, I would never think about this. But then you go saying we were a couple..and im looking at y/n,  thinking I don’t want to just look like one, I want us to be one. Shit, shit!.” He curses under his breath and finally gives in, reaching into his pocket with one hand.

“You’re making it seem like a bad thing, Eddie.” She says softly.

“It is. I’m her best friend and I was staring at her in class like some creep, you saw it.” He sticks the cigarette in his mouth keeping his eye on the road. “Now I’m really really pissed that I wasn’t invited to that..pizza date.”

He says the last word in disgust before he can stop himself. The jealousy was making its way through his veins and he hated it. Eddie shakes his head, pointing at himself. “See, this is not good.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” she starts, “You’re not the only one who looks lovesick.”

“What? Are you..” he stops trying to flick the lighter in hand on to look at her. “Does y/n look at me that way? Does..Nah, now you’re just pulling my leg now man.”

Chrissy hums, turning her gaze towards the window.

Eddie couldn’t help but feel some excitement rush through him. He speaks around the cigarette. “Really?”

“I see the way she looks at you.” Chrissy replies carefully , “I don’t think you’re the only one who has pushed down any feelings.”

A spark was ignited inside him. It matched the lighter in his hand as he quickly brings it to the end of his cigarette. He takes a huge drag to try to calm his jitter of nerves.

“Shit.” He blows out the smoke, opening the windows before he did so. “What the hell am I suppose to do?”

“Tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her- really? I can barely collect my thoughts right now!” He rubs his cheek sighing, growing frustrated.

“Maybe a date?” She suggests. “Take her to the diner next to Family Video.”

“We go there every week.”

“Umm. Oh! The bowling alley”

“She hates bowling. Nearly broke my ankle when it was her turn and I wasn’t even in front of her.”

“Okay. A picnic? That can be romantic.”

“It is? We had one a few weeks back.”

Chrissy sighs.

“The movies?”

“We’re banned. We either go to another town or watch a movie in my trailer.”

“Uh okay.., to lovers lake?”

“We go there.” He blushes, “We always sit in the back of my van and drink slushees.”

Chrissy tries not to smile. “How could I ever think you both were dating. That’s impossible, right?”

Eddie groans but nods, completely understanding now.

—

“Hey Gareth!” Eddie smile was tight as he slammed his friend’s locker closed before he was done putting his book away. “How was that pizza last night, hm?”

Gareth only looks up at his band mate and tries to mask his annoyance. “Didn’t y/n bring you a slice, you should know.”

You did. And he ate it happily with one hand on the wheel, with you back in his passenger seated complaining about how unhealthy it was for breakfast.

How it should be, you in his van and no one elses. Thank you very much.

“So,” Eddie clears his throat, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers with his back pressed against them. The lock digging in the back of his lower spine as he leveled his friend with a more serious tone. “You got a thing for y/n?”

Gareth stares back.

“Nope. Do not do this to me right now.” Gareth attempts to walk away but Eddie grabs his shoulder again to keep him in place. “I already have to deal with those freshman”

“I’m just asking! I mean, it’s a bit weird that you both went to eat pizza together. So , if it was a date. I would like to know. Just, normal best friend things. You know how I am with her.”

“Yes. I do know, unfortunately.” The brunette pushes his hand off. “Look dude, it was nothing more than y/n wanting pizza. Not a date or whatever got your panties in a twist.”

“Cool, cool” Eddie nods, feeling more relieved at the fact. Gareth rolls his eyes and begins walking towards the cafeteria. “Just looking out for you! Don’t want my band mate getting heart broke one. She’s harsh like that.”

“Oh definitely,” Gareth laughs loudly, “so harsh that she wouldn’t stop asking me if she was too mean for not letting you come along. Then wouldn’t stop reminding to bring you a damn slice.”

“She did?” Eddie perks up, and Gareth groaned again. It made him feel a little better that you also were bothered by the fact he didn’t come along. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was so worried last night.

All that hope Chrissy started was growing more and he couldn’t help the bump in his step as he walked beside Gareth to the cafeteria.

“You both are hopeless.” Gareth states which Eddie ignores once he sees you sitting at the lunch table.

-

“She got uncomfortable by my pathetic attempt at flirting.” Eddie recounts later that week and sits himself on the stairwell. Chrissy fixing the bow in her hair as she listens to him. “I was trying to invite her to movie night, but she got quiet. And didn’t want to look at me then made an excuse that her stomach hurt.”

“I told you, maybe she was actually sick.”

“No. I know her.” He huffs, “I can just tell. Then the other day, we were laughing over some of the yearbook pictures. And she gave me that stupid smile of hers.”

It was vivid in his head. You were trying to speak between giggling as Eddie pointed out some funny pictures. Then he turned the page and there was the both of you, surrounded by the rest of the hellfire club and you were mimicking his devil horn signature minus the tongue.

“We look so cute!” You gasped, pointing at the photo. “I’m surprised they even put that there. I guess Mike begged Nancy.”

You looked up at him and smiled brightly, “I need to get a copy of this so I can put it up in my wall. Or maybe even on the side of my mirror..”

Eddie had nodded, distracted by the intensity of your smile. The way your eyes sparked and you seemed so excited at the prospect of having a photo of Eddie and you together.

It was moments like these. When he felt it was only you two, in this bubble that froze time, he would nervously glance at Chrissy. Who often was watching these tender moments and would hold up a small thumbs up to encourage him. Because even if he did slowly grow more confident, he needed reassurance.Hence his meetups with the cheerleader so he could recount these moments for advice.

It was a delicate matter, and he trusted Chrissy to not let him fuck this up.

But when he looked back at you, you had pulled away, breaking the small bubble and was staring down at the yearbook. No longer smiling.

It was becoming a habit. This pulling away, your smiles suddenly disappearing at random moments when he thought everything was going great.

“And I don’t know, one moment it was there. Then I looked away, and it was gone.” He recounts to Chrissy. “It’s been happening more often. I’m starting to think, maybe we both are wrong and I’m seeing it wrong, and I’m too obvious and she’s noticing. And uncomfortable. And..shit I don’t know.”

“Im sure it’s not that Eddie.” Chrissy sits down next to him on the steps. “Give it time”

And he wanted to. But you only pulled away further after that. You began to be more quiet, often letting him talk and listening instead. Everyday he tried to make a fool of himself more, to be able to see that bright smile that he knew the sun wouldn’t compare to.

Like when he fell to his knees on the parking lot the day he stayed back in class, and he had the chance of bumping into Chrissy to have her reassure him of his worries. Again.

Your laughter instantly making him feel less stupid for the way his knees ached and from the stares of others from his begging. He thought maybe he still could bring you back.

Yet your small smile after reassuring him a few minutes after, proved him wrong once again.

He didn’t understand. Why your once bright and bubbly personality was changing right in front of him. You could barely hold eye contact with him.

Your smiles didn’t reach your eyes.

He use to be able to make you smile, laugh to the point of verge of tears. It was always so easy for him to be able to comfort you and you would be back to your cheerful self. You never had to force a smile around him.

So why were you doing it now?

He wanted to push. Push you talk to him but that was the thing-

He never needed to push before. He would always ask, and you would crumble into your rambling and release all your worries to him. Knowing that he was listening and that his arms were open.

You never held back from opening up to him. Ramblings and weird questions was a daily occurrence. Your random worries always something Eddie welcomed because he loved the sound of your voice.

So for you to sit there, not bothering to make eye contact and insist it was okay, when it clearly wasn’t?

This was different. New territory for him and Eddie was lost. For the first time since he met you.

And those doubts, all those fears that he and Chrissy’s hangouts were meant to beat down in order to prepare him to confess to you, began to latch onto him.

What if you noticed his change in demeanor towards you? He tried not to act too differently after he realized he wanted more, realized he wanted to push his luck a little bit. But he’s been oblivious before, so maybe you noticed his feelings.

Maybe you were uncomfortable by it. Despite his hopes that you felt the same way, he could always be wrong.He could be wrong about his luck stretching that long.

He felt so overwhelmed by it. Anytime he felt saddened by his own mind, he would call you and your voice would keep him calm.

But could he call when you were the reason he was feeling this way?

He tries, really tries to get through the night but the phone is in his hand before he knew it.

-

You hung up on him. He had come close to confessing after you gave him the sweetest speech. Everything he dreamed to hear from you encouraging him to finally say the truth, and you fucking hung up on him.

Eddie stares at the wall across from him, the hallway suddenly feeling too small for him. It was closing in on him as he dialed your house phone again, fingers shaking as he listened to the multiple rings play out. After the 6th ring, he slammed the phone down.

“Fuck!”

—

“I need you.” He wills himself to not cry right there. Listening and waiting on the other side of the bathroom door. His body running on the adrenaline from the argument moments before.

He didn’t mean to blow up on you the way he did. He never once raised his voice towards you, but he couldn’t stop it. All the confusion, hope, and fear reached its breaking point when you tried to avoid him once again. The lies coming right out your mouth stabbed through him.

You never lied to him before. That’s what hurt. You lying and hiding from him made him want to break everything in sight but also, to break down crying himself.

Chrissy was wrong. He let her misconceptions warp his brain into thinking that he deserved anymore luck than what he had. He should have been grateful, for what he had already. This friendship that you built, who was he to wish for more?

Eddie Munson was not suppose to be a lucky person.

He pushed his limits and you were pulling away. Not only did he stupidly believe he had a chance of more, he may have forced the universe to rip away what they gave to him. Your silence an indication of that.

Eddie wiped the tear that ran down his nose, from leaning his forehead against the door trying to listen to anything from you. He pulled away as the silence stretched on. The hurt worsening as the seconds ticked by.

Fuck this. He shouldn’t have been so stupid.

—

He didn’t expect you to come to his trailer right after. Or for the way you began to ramble and pace around his room, your nervous voice filling his room in a way he had grown accustomed to in the years of friendship.

He missed it so much. He didn’t care if he still felt heartbroken at his realization that he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. Destroyed that he couldn’t even be lucky enough for that.

With you smiling softly at him, not a forced one after so long, as he held your cheek and apologized himself. He decided that he will gladly accept what he has now because you being there, laughing and kicking your feet as he carries to his van-

That was enough luck for him.

—

You slept in his room that night. Your socked foot nearly kicking him in the chin as you turned, stretching your body out as a yawn forced its way out. He opens one eye, glancing at his windows to see that it wasn’t that bright outside yet.

He drowsily waits for you to fall back asleep again, listening for your breaths to even out so he could go back asleep himself.

But you sat up, rubbing your eyes and pulling the blankets with you as you stand from his bed and stumble awkwardly towards his bedroom door.

Your small ow from kicking his lunchbox has him groaning loudly, pushing his face into his pillow. “What are you doing..” he rasps, hating to open his eyes to try to make out the numbers on his clock. “Its 6:00 am. We have an hour.”

He remembers the morning before, when you left earlier before he woke up. This wakes him a bit more, anxiety there as he pushes himself up from the comfort of his bed to a sitting position. You looking at him sheepishly from the door.

“I need to make a call.” You whisper, the large blanket wrapped around you making you look ridiculous. You seem to know what he was thinking as you continue to reassure him, “That’s all Eds. I’ll come back .”

“Hurry up.” He sighs, not bothering to ask who you could be calling this damn early, before flopping back on the bed and hugging the pillow.

Even if he was really sleepy, he stayed awake waiting for you to come back. His hand reaching out to touch where you were laying before, sighing impatiently at your absence.

You came back about 5 minutes later, climbing over him, kicking his side, to get to your side of the bed. He hums at feeling you lay back beside him, grabbing onto the blanket and pulling it, forcing you to roll over as it was still wrapped around you.

“Don’t be stingy, its freezing.” He murmurs. You smile and unwrap it before throwing half of it over his body. It becomes quiet then. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know you were facing him.

Your hand grabs his and Eddie falls back to sleep.

Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel about the way Max had narrowed her eyes at him after you both woke up again and gotten ready for the day. As though she was trying to burn him alive with just her mind.

She was waiting outside on her porch when you waved her over towards the van when you stepped out of his trailer.

“I called early, let your mom know you’ll be catching rides with us now.” You smile at the redhead, whom only sighs and gets up. “I can’t have you riding that scary bus”

“You only rode it for one day.” She states, rolling her eyes. Max looks at Eddie for a moment before shoving her backpack into his arms. “I call shotgun.”

You smile at that, shrugging at Eddie who stared between you two. “I’m cool with that.”

Now he understood why Lucas was always so confused with Max’s behavior. Sure, he had eavesdropped a few times when the kids gossiped about their love life, or what a 15 year would describe a “love” life. Most of the time he was bored if you had to stay in between classes, so he would let them go on and on about what else happens in their lives.

Lucas would complain that Max was avoiding him, or she was meaner than usual. Whom he had to remind, well her brother died in a mall fire the year before. Give her some time.

But he didn’t think she was this mean.

“This is what you listen to all day ?” She scoffs, noticing the Iron Maiden cassette case on the floor of the van. “Don’t you have anything less..”

“Scary?” You butt in, ignoring Eddie’s look of concern from you putting yourself between the seats. Clearly you didn’t understand his need for you to be safely seated.

“No, shitty.”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you realllyy listen, okay?” He cuts off your small giggle, reaching over to turn up the volume a bit. “This, Max, is real music. It’s not just about how it sounds, but the complex lyrics and-“

“Oh god, make him stop.”

“Keep going Eds.” You place a handle on the drivers seat as your other hand pull gently on one of his curls. He perks up at you defending him. “Tell her about the verrry deep lyrics of Ladies Room by Kiss.”

Maybe not. 

“Okay, how about you,” he gently pushes you back, “Sit down! You know I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laugh, reaching for your bag and getting distracted by searching inside it.

He missed that. Your laugh and the smiles you been throwing at him all morning. It didn’t make it any easier for him though. It felt like his heart was swelling with the amount of adoration he had for you, it was going to be the death of him.

Max was staring at him again. Studying him, trying to decipher whatever she had in mind when he tilts his head at her, expecting for another insult.

She looked away when you called her name and begin to ask her a question.

-

“So everything is okay now?” Chrissy asks, looking over the blunt Eddie had handled to her, sliding some cash to him.

There was a few minutes left of lunch and you had gotten dragged by Robin to join her and Nancy for lunch. Something about girl talk, Eddie not being allowed. It was funny the surprised look on face when they dragged you away. He decided to meet up with Chrissy to talk about the night before.

“Yeah.” He says, happy that it felt true. “She finally told me that she just been in her head again and I guess, it was really bad this time.” He sighs, “maybe if I tried harder to notice, it wouldn’t have gotten to that point.”

Chrissy watches the soft expression on his face. “Figure out when you’ll confess then?”

“I don’t know Chrissy.” He swallows, pushing his bangs out of his face. He really needed to ask you to cut them again. “I think it’s best if I don’t..ruin anything. That whole time I thought she was acting that way because of me, afraid maybe she could tell the difference.”

“And I realized how fragile this whole thing is. And I don’t know,” he drops a stick he was messing with and looks at her. “Im still not even sure how she feels about me. I can’t read her. How can I not read my own best friend!”

He feels like dropping to the ground and never getting up. He felt okay this morning but now Chrissy has him, once again, going on a tangent.

“I made a mistake of calling her that night. And I was just gonna talk then somehow-somehow! It lead to me trying to confess to her. I was this close and she hung up! And acted the way she did.”

“Try again.”

“No, she’s opening up to me again and I have her back. that's all that matters now and we’re back to normal!” He assures. “besides, if she didn't understand my confession, or maybe she did and ignored it. it doesn't matter, we’re good now.”

“Did you straight out say that you liked her?” Chrissy emphasizes on the ‘her’

“…”

“Eddie ?”

“Something along the lines..”

“Right.” Chrissy tugs on her skirt when she stands and crosses her arms. “Eddie how can she know if you’re not saying it clearly.”

“It’s not that easy. I mean, it is easy to talk about how I feel, never had that problem before. We always talk about our problems. But these are..my feelings that may not be returned. And-”

He motions towards her. “And I barely touched how I really feel on that phone call. It was rookie stuff!”

Chrissy thinks. “What are your feelings then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You always are worrying about saying the wrong thing, or if you’re looking into things the right way.” She considers. “Why do you like her?”

“Why? It’s y/n.” He frowns. “Who wouldn’t like her?”

“What about you? Why do you like her, how do you feel?”

Anyone can say that they like how you look, the way hair frames your face, or the way your clothes fit you. Or how you carry yourself or your sweet voice. You were a beauty that Eddie feels like no one should touch.

But for Eddie, it was deeper than that. He could name a hundred things he likes about you.

From the way you wake up with a bird nest as a hair that he often had to take tangles out as you sat sleepily, to how your nose scrunches slightly whenever you hate a certain taste of food but you never say anything to Uncle Wayne when he cooks, or how you would hide your smiles behind your hands when you watched romantic movies and the way your eyes redden at particular scenes.

Or the way you don’t realize how loud you’re being sometimes, ducking your head in shame when you do and he would tell you that it was okay. He likes when you are loud and come out of your shell at random moments.

He likes when you link your arm with his, because you have no problem being touchy. Your hands shoving at him or slapping his arm playfully whenever he annoyed you. The smell of your fruit scented shampoo filling his nose when you invade his space with no care, hugging him during scary movie scenes or when you felt particularly sad that day. That same shampoo brand that has its own spot in his bathroom.

Along with all your knickknacks that you bring to him when you visited the thrift store with your mom. Your excitement at the small things and that fucking smile and eyes.

“I..” Eddie isn’t sure where he could start. There was so much else in mind but those details, those small moments that make up everything in his life, is something he wants to keep to himself.

“ ‘like’ feels so weak compared to how I really feel Chrissy” he finally pushes out. She waits for him to continue.

“It’s different. I feel lucky. Like I have something that is a one in a life time chance..like if I were to loose that, everything would fucking suck. My life wouldn’t have that..shine anymore.”

“Because that’s what she is. She’ s this light, this..” he struggles, he never was one for poetry but dammit if he tries. “This fucking ray of sunshine!”

He laughs and tries to fight back the blush that was waiting to spread across his neck from how cheesy he sounded but he couldn’t stop. “She smiled at me the first time we met and I was like, yeah. Yeah, nothing will match that.”

“And she fits into my life like a lost puzzle, something I was missing before I came to Hawkins. Makes me feel whole and I’ll be incomplete with out her, and..and I just..”

“I’m happy with our friendship. I don’t want to even think about losing that, but maybe..maybe I want to wake up and actually be able to kiss her good morning . And goodnight, and all the time in between. “He revels at the idea. “I already have so much of her,-“

He smiled shyly as he looks at Chrissy, who was looking at him as though she was proud. He was going on for too long, lunch was ending. “But maybe I want that part of her. Where we could actually tell people we are a couple.Where it’s true”

Chrissy wraps her arms around him as he huffs out a huge breath from his emotional speech before she pulls away and smiles.

“Now, find a way to tell her that. On a real date, of course.”

“That’s going to be hard.”

“I know. But you’ll figure it out Eddie.”

He feels that confidence return and he becomes hopeful again.That spark appearing again and fuck it. 

He’s going to test his luck. 

*・゜゜・*:.。..。.:*・*:゜・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゜・**・゜゜・*:.。..。.:*・*:゜・*:

Taglist: @bratckerman​ @beepisbeep @thegirlthatsfalling​ @ssolariiaa @hauntingtherosebush​ @akwzilla​ @fujiihime​ @run-up-that-hilll​ @eddieswifu​ @kaitcreatesart​ @mel119g​ @sole-screws​ @a1hymy​ @lmili​ @lostgirl-28​ @crazyjenny8675309​ @coolsnowker​ @scoopsr0bin​ @raydenrrobertson​ @maximizedrhythms​ @thegirlwhohides​ @waverzzzzzzzz​ @cherry-vamps​ @yourdailymemedelivery​ @bietchz​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @shinydixon​ @strangerthingsstories5255 @ureleesian​ @sad-darksoul​ @erisdogwood​ @trinsghost @vaness20 @stiegasaw @guyinachair27​ @boomitsallie1​ @hazydespair​ @natashaashleymarvelromanoff​ @darlingbravebelle @mnskai @minejungwoo​ @iloveeddiemunson13​ 

if I missed anyone or it didn't tag right, im sorryyy ! dm me or reply to this for the next part if you decide to stick around (: ok imma hit post , eat my cupcake and hide bc anxiety and im insecure of this haha. hope you all have a wonderful day. drink water, eat something, rest. byee <33

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson angst #Eddie pls THINK #eddie munson imagine

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

you loved and cared for eddie munson when you were 12 , now he hates you.

wc-2300 ish

pt 2 to bully eddie

Hawkins High School was far from picturesque. In your humble opinion, you despised it. At the age of 12, you had high hopes for high school - thinking it would be your golden age, your stepping stone to greatness. However, from freshman year onwards, you were miserable. Eddie Munson, two years your senior, made sure of that. He flunked his senior year not once, but twice, leaving you as his target for six long years. Eddie, the dungeon master of the hellfire club, was no stranger to bullying himself, but he took pleasure in tormenting you, the shy girl at Hawkins High. It was a shame that not even Eddie Munson would befriend you - you must have been a terrible person to be around.

"Peppy, please just consider this," Nancy pleaded. "It's your senior year, and we only have two weeks left of school. That's 10 days, 10 whole days you can really cherish." Peppy was your nickname, given to you because of your love for Dr. Pepper. You always had a can in hand, and Nancy and Robin couldn't resist calling you that. Despite your reluctance, Nancy had a way of convincing you to do things. She was like literal sunshine, impossible to resist. "Let me think about it, Nance. I can't afford to be humiliated again. Last year was miserable." Of course, you would think about it. Nancy's infectious energy always made you want to join in. "Nancy, can you please come over after school? Bring Robs, and we can discuss this. If I do decide to go, we'll have lots of planning to do." "Of course, see you later, Peppy."

"Rob's, guess what?!" you yell excitedly. "Please tell me you have amazing, awesome news like 'oh my god, the upside down caved in and disappeared,' that would heal me."

"Robin, no, shut up, someone's gonna hear you," you said, glancing around cautiously, hoping no one had heard what she said. Luckily, the halls were empty.

"What's the good news, Peppy?" Andy asked me to prom. Can you believe that? I mean, Robin, I am a freak. I'm a freak at heart. Eddie Munson won't even let me live it down. Robin, do you know how amazing this is?"

"Peppy, really? You're going with Andy? Like, Andy Andy?" Robin's mood matched yours.

"Yeah, Robbie, I'm so excited. I have my dress picked out and everything. It's pink with hints of red and red hearts embroidered on the sleeves," you explained.

"Oh my god, Peppy, that's so good! I'm so happy for you. This will be so, so, so fun. I can't wait. Make sure you let Nancy know. Oh my god, she's gonna be so happy we all get to go together. She's been begging and begging me to find a date," Robin told you.

"Okay, Rob, I'll see you after English. I'll give you a ride home. Love you."

"Love you too, Peppy."

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie Munson lurked around the corner, a scowl etched onto his face, his dark intentions hidden beneath a facade of resentment. He was determined to ensure you wouldn't have a good time at prom, hell-bent on sabotaging any joy you might find. For him, your happiness was an affront he couldn't tolerate, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure your night ended in misery.

"Heeey, Andy. I heard you're going to prom with Y/N," Eddie slyly interjected, his voice dripping with malice.

"Who?" Andy asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing.

"Peppy... the freakazoid. Dude, you know who I'm talking about," Eddie replied, his tone laced with disdain.

"What's it to you, Munson? It's none of your business," Andy retorted, his confusion evident.

"No, it's not, but I'm just warning you to stay away. She's a weirdo," Eddie sneered, his words dripping with venom as he poisoned Andy's perception of you.

Draped in a delicate shade of light pink, you sat in your living room, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm hue over everything. Your mom fussed over you, capturing every angle with her camera, her voice filled with pride as she complimented how beautiful you looked. It was a moment of rare confidence, happiness, and contentment that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As the clock inched closer to 6 PM, the anticipation grew palpable. Andy, your prom date, was scheduled to pick you up at 8, and you couldn't help but nervously glance at the clock every few minutes. You had carefully chosen his pink tie with heart motifs, hoping he wouldn't be too embarrassed to wear it.

Meanwhile, Andy sat on his bed, staring blankly at the baggie of weed in his hand. Eddie's words echoed in his mind, poisoning his thoughts. "She's a freak, stay away from her unless you want to look like a freak too." The fear of being associated with you gnawed at him, and he made the cowardly decision to stay home, drowning his insecurities in drugs instead of facing you.

As the minutes ticked by and the clock struck 9 PM, doubt began to creep into your mind. Was Andy just running late, or was this all a cruel joke? You hesitantly dialed his number, your fingertips trembling with uncertainty. "Yello," Andy's voice crackled through the phone. "Hey Andy, it's me. I was just wondering when you're coming. You're still planning to come, right?" you asked, the hope evident in your voice. His response shattered your heart into a million pieces. "Yeah, no sorry. Munson got to me. You really are a freak," he muttered, his words like a knife through your heart. With tears welling up in your eyes, you hung up the phone, devastated by the realization that Eddie hates you , he hated you. silly you for thinking he’d let you have this one night to be happy.

as you sat in your last class of the day, a sense of relief washed over you knowing you didn't have a date for prom. The thought of spending the night with friends instead of navigating the awkwardness of a date brought a sense of calm.

But as you squirmed in your seat, eager to leave, Eddie's bitter tone shattered your moment of peace. "Could you stop fucking moving like that? I'm trying to write," he snapped, his words cutting through your thoughts like a knife.

Feeling a pang of anxiety, you stammered out an apology, your voice wavering with uncertainty. "Sorry, I'm just feeling anxious. Do you want me to move?" you offered, hoping to diffuse the tension.

"fuck yes, you annoy me anyway," Eddie retorted, his hostility palpable. "It's making me sick having to sit next to you."

Feeling a surge of humiliation, you quickly gathered your things and made your way across the classroom, retreating to the back in a desperate attempt to escape Eddie's ire.

Meanwhile, Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he watched you move away. Memories of his behavior flooded his mind, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience. He hadn't spoken to you since he was 14.

But despite the remorse gnawing at him, Eddie couldn't bring himself to stop. His hatred for you, fueled by years of resentment and pain, consumed him. He needed to push you away, to make you feel the same hurt he had felt. It was a vicious cycle of pain and retribution, hes only protecting himself from getting hurt again. he wont let you hurt him again.

gloomy days at Hawkins Middle School were oddly your favorite. The prospect of spending time indoors with Eddie, playing music together in the classroom, always fueled your happiness. You dashed eagerly to the music room, eager to retrieve your guitars and dive into another session of music-making with Eddie.

As you approached the closet where your instruments were stored, your eyes fell upon your beloved pink guitar, perfectly sized and customized for you. Next to it lay Eddie's red guitar, adorned with hateful words spray-painted across its surface: "freak," "loser," "trailer trash," "ugly." Anger surged within you at the sight of Eddie's defaced instrument.

In a moment of impulsive fury, you reached for Eddie's guitar, lifting it from its confines and slamming it onto the floor with all your strength, over and over again until it lay shattered into pieces. Eddie had just entered the room, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed the destruction of the one thing he cared for deeply.

Despite your attempts to explain, Eddie refused to listen. He turned his back on you, shutting you out completely. From that day forward, Eddie remained a distant figure, a silent specter haunting the halls of your memories. he never spoke to you again. opting to make your life miserable instead

Underneath your bed sat the replica of the guitar you had painstakingly saved up for, a reminder of your failed attempt to mend your friendship with Eddie. It was too big for him, collecting dust as it remained untouched. You couldn't bring yourself to throw it away or return it, holding onto the hope that one day Eddie would open his heart and listen to your side of the story.

You were pretty sure you reeked of shitty spiked punch and pepperoni oil, a combination that only added to the cynicism creeping into your thoughts. Watching Robin dance with Vicky, the girl she'd been crushing on all year, should have filled you with happiness, but instead, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as Eddie Munson sauntered up to them. Why was he even here? Didn't he have better things to do?

"Peppy, you look so down. Can we get you anything?" Nancy's caring voice broke through your reverie, her concern evident in her gaze. "You know, I'll ask Jon to go to the diner right now to get you a burger. You look miserable, babe." Her offer was sweet, but you couldn't bring yourself to accept it, not when you caught sight of Eddie flaunting his presence with a bright flask, momentarily blinding you with its shine.

"No, Nance, I'm good. Please, just have fun," you managed to reply, mustering a weak smile as she ran off with Jonathan when "Time After Time" started playing.

The grunts and groans behind you drew your attention, and you turned to see Eddie being bombarded by school security. Curiosity getting the better of you, you intervened, asking shyly, "What's going on here?" while avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Mr. Munson here attempted to steal school property, miss," the security guard explained. Eddie rolled his eyes and dismissed you, but you couldn't ignore the pang in your chest at the mention of a guitar. Despite his protests, you watched as they escorted him away.

Feeling foolish yet determined, you knew you had to do something for him. Maybe this would finally make him leave you alone, or perhaps even apologize. Being in student council had its perks, including a set of keys with your name on them. In the darkness of the hallway, you located the guitar and grabbed it, hoping no one would see you as you made your way to the parking lot.

You approached Eddie with a heavy heart, a dusty guitar clutched in your trembling hands. "I know they kicked you out, and I'm assuming it's because of this, but I thought you'd want to play, you know? Before leaving and everything," you murmured softly, offering him the instrument.

"Whatever," Eddie replied curtly, his tone dripping with disdain. Your heart sank as you struggled to understand his animosity. "Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing but be nice to you. I love your uncle, I loved you. You were my best friend, Eddie, and you started treating me like shit for no reason. Really, what is it?" Tears streamed down your face, smudging your makeup as you poured your heart out to him.

Eddie felt a pang of guilt tug at his heartstrings, a sudden urge to console you rising within him. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he never hated you, that you looked beautiful even with tear-streaked cheeks. But his pride and guarded heart held him back. "You're a bitch, Y/N. You're a piece of shit, and you ruined the one good thing I loved, the one thing I had left of my mom. And you had no remorse when you did it. You did it with pride, and you looked at me like I was a monster. It's not my fault you deserved to be treated like shit, Y/N. Really, I fucking hate you. This whole fucking town hates you, and I understand because you ruined my life," he spat out bitterly, his anger palpable as his nostrils flared.

"I really don't know what I did. If I knew, I would apologize. I've only ever done things to protect you, Eddie," you sobbed, your heart breaking with every word.

"So breaking my shit is protecting me? Ruining my shit is protecting me, Y/N? That's an excuse, and it's a shitty one. You know I loved that guitar," Eddie yelled, his voice raw with emotion as he fought to contain his turmoil.

"I did it to protect you, Eddie. You never let me explain. They did it, Eddie. They spray-painted your guitar. They wrote mean things on it. So I got angry, and I broke it. I shattered it because I didn't want you to see that. They were so wrong, Eddie. They still are wrong. Even after you treated me like shit, I still want you to know that you are none of those things," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared at the ground, your chest heaving with sobs.

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his anger waning as he processed your words. Unable to resist any longer, he reached forward and pulled you into his arms, his own tears mingling with yours. "Shh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you did it just to spite me. Baby, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Please, I love you," he whispered brokenly, his bloodshot eyes pleading for forgiveness as you looked up at him, your heart heavy yet hopeful

I love you too, I really do, even after everything," you sighed into his shoulder, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Eddie gently grasped the back of your head, tilting it back so you could meet his gaze. He pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting against yours, as his hand traced your jawline with tender care. With a lightness that belied the weight of your emotions, he placed the gentlest of pecks on your lips.

"I love you, baby. I'm sorry," Eddie murmured softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

"It's okay. I really love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with love and forgiveness as you melted into his embrace.

“lets go”

taglist

@ali-r3n @tlclick73 @m0llygunn @bimbobaggins69 @impmunson @mmunson86 @stveharringtn @kingstevesgf @skrzydlak

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie x reader angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fic #eddie x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst to fluff

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Part two to the fwb series. Angst, mention of Eddie going down on Reader, payback. Eddie is still an ass. 18+ minors go away.

Part one

🖤

Eddie knew you'd be back. You always came back to him, so for the first week or so he didn't take your threat seriously.

Chrissy was back so he'd be fine. He didn't need you, not one bit.

Then it was two weeks that passed, soon turning to three weeks and there was a sliver of doubt inside him that you meant what you said this time.

He's growing restless, but no way is he making the first move. Why should he? You walked out on him, he made his feelings clear on your relationship many times so he didn't know why you didn't listen.

It wasn't his fault. So he was going to ignore this feeling of unrest, wasn't going to go begging for you to come back.

Chrissy being home isn't all it's cracked up to be either. He doesn't know why, he's just sick of the fights between them, growing tired of how hard it is for them to make this relationship work.

He didn't realise how much you took away the tension he felt all them time, tension over him and Chrissy and their deteriorating relationship.

But he was still stubborn that he didn't need you, him and Chrissy would get through this... Wouldn't they?

🖤

When he sees you out and about with Robin it's like a blow to his chest. He doesn't expect it, hasn't seen your in over a month.

Dustin is grinning at you, rushing to give you a hug which you return. Traitor. Eddie thinks annoyed as Dustin gushes to you.

You're super friendly. Well... at least you are to Dustin. In fact you barely acknowledge Eddie one it, nothing more than a cursory nod in his direction.

To say he's miffed is an understatement.

You however don't particularly care, you do however want Eddie to feel exactly how you've felt the last several months. You have a plan and you're anxious to get it underway...

🖤

When there's a knock on his door later that night Eddie is surprised to see it's you, considering your attitude earlier.

He knew you would be back, it's arrogance yes but he knows you, knows you would still want him.

You're in a dress that shows off your curves, every inch of you looks fucking incredible. He's missed your body, your amazing tits.

He feels himself grow hard immediately, doesn't even question when you walk forward and kiss him. Doesn't think you're here for any other reason than you couldn't be without him.

So yeah, he's a little bit smug and he leads you inside.

...

Your moans fill the air in Eddie's trailer as he goes down on you, taking his sweet time as you mewled in pleasure.

You were so wet for him, so responsive to his tongue and fingers, your hand gripping his hair as you come. Legs shaking, a blissful look on your face as you enjoy the orgasm that sweeps over you.

Then you surprise Eddie, you get up and fic your dress. Ignore Eddie's questioning look.

"Where are you going?'' you cock your head as you look at him, your smile sweet but with a cold edge.

"Oh Ed's, I'm doing what you do. Take my pleasure then leave" you say as you put your coat on.

"But... he splutters and you smirk, reapply your lipstick and blow him a kiss.

"You really think I'd just come crawling back to you huh? That you can fuck me around for months and I'd be okay with that" his mind blanks as you go to leave, he scrambles up before you can go.

"What the fuck? You fucking used me" he snaps and you stare cooly at him, unbothered.

"Sucks doesn't it?" you leave without a second glance back at him. Leave Eddie stunned. He was so sure you were back for good.

He was so fucking wrong.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie fic

[k2padfoot]

Long Island Iced Teas

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: You left Eddie a month ago after thinking he was into Chrissy, when you run into him at the hideout things get a little messy.

warnings: Sorry Nancy is kind of a shitty friend in this, alcohol, some angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

It had been at least a month since you stormed out on Eddie, not talking to him at all since. It was stupid really and it was all your fault. You don’t know why you got so jealous but you did. Maybe it was because of how much you loved Eddie or maybe it was because of your stupid insecurities. Either way you messed up big time accusing him of being into Chrissy.

When you and Nancy walked into the hideout you weren’t surprised to see Eddie sat at the bar with a beer in his hand, but you were reluctant to stay.

“Nanc.. I don’t know if this a good idea.” you whispered to her as you tried to hide behind her petite frame.

Nancy immediately caught on to your hesitation once she saw Eddie, “Oh come on!” she turned to look at you, “Just ignore him, you deserve to let loose a bit.” She said as she reached for your hand dragging you over to the bar.

“Two long island iced teas please!” Nancy shouted over the crowd to the man working behind the bar.

To your luck Nancy had already hit it off with the guy next to her and you let out a rough sigh as you reached for the drink that was placed in front of you.

Nancy turned back towards you, “Oh, sip your drink and forget about him already!” She said while downing half of her own drink and turning back to the handsome blonde to her left.

You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of your drink hoping the alcohol would kick in soon, you couldn’t bare to be here sober for much longer but you wouldn’t leave Nancy alone with some random dude either.

You were staring into nothingness when the bartender placed another drink in front of you, you hadn’t even noticed you finished the first one.

“Don’t worry, this one is on the house.” He told you as he pushed the glass towards you. Even he could tell you didn’t want to be here, that something was clearly wrong and maybe that’s why he took pity on you.

You smiled and nodded at him as a thanks as you picked up the glass and took a few swigs. At this point Nancy had disappeared somewhere into the crowd with her new handsome hottie leaving you alone at the bar.

Your glass was empty again and it’s like the man behind the bar could read your mind because he was already fixing you another one.

You could feel your body become warmer and your mind become lighter. It felt good, at least for now, so you downed the rest of that drink too.

As your head began to buzz you intently watched the bartender pour another one for you when you suddenly felt the presence of someone to your right. Quickly your head snapped in that direction and your eyes landed on none other than Eddie.

He had sat down at the empty barstool next to you. “A-and what the helllll do you want?” you slurred your words.

Eddie chuckled, “That’s no way to greet an old friend Y/n.”

You scoffed at his response, “That’s what you consider yourself? An old friend? Maybe I wasn’t so far off.” You said the last thing under your breath while reaching for your fourth drink.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You heard Eddie say as he grabbed the drink out for your hand, sitting it down out of your reach.

“What the hell?!” You snapped at him.

“I think you’ve had enough Y/n.”

Your brows snapped together as you stared at him in frustration, “Oh really? And what do you know?”

“I know that you were wrong, and I know that you get tipsy off two drinks. Four is going to have you feeling absolutely awful tomorrow.”

“Wrong about what?” You asked.

Eddie let out a loud sigh, “About her.”

You knew exactly what he meant but you didn’t dare to look at him. “I know.” you lightly whispered as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What? What did you just say?”

You were really hoping he didn’t hear what just came out of your mouth, “Jesus Christ, I said I know okay?”

Eddie let out a breathy laugh, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, “Oh shut up, why did you even come over here?”

“Because I still care about you.” He said without hesitation.

“Well you shouldn’t. Not after what I said that night, honestly if I were you I’d hate me.” you admitted, not daring to look up in to those beautiful brown eyes.

“I could never hate you. I’ll admit after you walked out that night I was so pissed at you, but eventually my anger turned into something else.” He took another swig of his beer, “Heartbreak I guess.”

There it was, that familiar sting in your chest as soon as he uttered those words. You tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill, you never wanted to hurt him and it killed you to know that you did.

You didn’t want to but you needed to. Quickly you got up from your chair and ran to the exit, you were in desperate need of some fresh air and didn’t exactly want to burst into tears in front of a full bar either.

As soon as you stepped outside you rounded the corner and emptied your stomach right in front of the bars dumpster. You couldn’t care less that you just puked up your guts behind the hideout because the sobs that were racking through your body were all you could focus on. You dropped to your knees, your head falling into your hands as you tried your hardest to calm your breathing.

A soft touch to your shoulder startled you and when you looked up you saw Eddie crouched down in front of you, those eyes you loved so much boring in to your own.

You felt his hand move from your shoulder to cup your cheek, “Hey, I’m sorry if I made you upset princess.”

Princess. That world alone out if his mouth is all it takes to makes you crumble and instantly your bursting into tears.

Right away Eddie is trying to console you, he’s rubbing your back and gently wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“S-stop.” you stifled out, softly grabbing his hands and placing them back onto his knees. “I-I don’t deserve this, you shouldn’t have to come out here and console me when I’m the one who hurt you. I-I’m so fucking sorry Eds.”

You squeezed your eyes shut preparing yourself for Eddie to get up and walk away or tell you off like you deserved, but that never came.

Instead you felt his soft fingers lift your chin up to look at him, “Open your eyes for me Y/n.” So you did, “You’re right, you did hurt me but I know you didn’t mean to.”

“W-what?”

He sighed before taking your hands back in his own, “Listen, just let me take you home get you sobered up and we’ll figure this out, okay?”

You nodded and let him help you to the van before driving off to Eddie’s.

The ride there was quiet aside from Van Halen playing over the radio and when you pulled up to the all to familiar trailer you couldn’t help but think of the many memories it held.

“Ready?” Eddie asked as he opened the passenger door extending you his hand that you took willingly.

He helped you inside and onto the couch while he went to grab you some water. You leaned back into the couch closing your eyes, your head spinning as you anxiously waited for Eddie.

You felt the sofa shift beside you and when you opened your eyes again Eddie was sitting there with a cold glass of water in his hand, “Here, drink this it’ll help.”

You nodded and took the glass from his hand before chugging the cold liquid.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at how thirsty you must’ve been, “Better?” he asked and you nodded before setting the glass down on the coffee table.

“Eds?” you asked him in a soft voice as you turned to look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, not taking his eyes off of your own.

“You said you knew I didn’t mean what I said that night b-but how did you know that?”

For the the third time this night Eddie reached for your hands and tightly held them in his, “Like I said, I was angry but then I thought about it more and I could see why you felt the way you did. I mean hell, if I saw you out in the woods secretly meeting with Carver I’d blow a fucking gasket. Not to mention Max telling you Chrissy was at my trailer, that must’ve hurt you too.”

“Y-yeah it did, but I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. I shouldn’t have accused you of anything without knowing the details.” You confessed.

“Listen to me, I don’t blame you I probably would’ve reacted the same way. But I need you to know nothing was going on between Chrissy and I, she just wanted to buy some pills.” He told you, his thumbs softly rubbing up and down your hands.

“I know that now but I just— I can’t tell you how truly sorry I am. I’m so fucking in love with you and my insecurities cost me to lose the best thing to ever happen to me.” You told him as you eyes burned with tears.

Eddie gently pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and used his other hand to hold the back of your neck before pulling you into a long awaited kiss.

You pull away catching a glimpse of his enamored eyes before he’s kissing you again. That familiar taste of his lips made you realize you could never have enough. His hands are everywhere, up your back and through your hair and suddenly he’s kissing you harder, deeper, with a fervent urge.

You draw back from one another to catch a breath when Eddie gently takes your face into his hands, “You never lost me. I’m right here, I forgive you princess.”

Those were the only words you needed to hear before you practically threw yourself into his arms apologizing over and over again, and rambling about how much you love him.

Eddie let out a soft laugh as he shifted you to look at him, “I love you too, but baby you need to stop all that apologizing because right now I need to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

and yall know where that’s gonna go, maybe I’ll do a pt.2 smut version.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie supremacy #eddie imagine #eddie fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie st4 #eddie x fem!reader

[imjustagirl22]

Eddie Munson x reader imagine 💤

~ thinking about sharing Eddie’s boxer shorts, and eventually ending up with matching couples pyjamas

~ I just know the reader can’t help but steal Eddie’s boxers to sleep and lounge around in

~ I mean he looks like a little cutie, they’re just so enticing

~ so one evening the reader asks to wear his boxers because they “forget” their pyjama shorts

~ and of course Eddie says yes

~ he’s trying to be cool but he can’t wait to see the reader in his clothes, let alone his boxer shorts

~ and because Eddie can’t catch a break, the reader looks adorable

~ the cutest patootie there is

~ and Eddie is the mix of heart eyes and horny eyes

~ he’s just a boy who’s in love with his partner and thinks they look drop dead gorgeous in anything (and nothing)

~ so naturally every time the reader sleeps over Eddie offers them his boxer shorts

~ and if he sleeps over at their place, he packs an extra pair

~ (the only time this man has been prepared)

~ his boxers are just so comfortable, and sentimental because they’re Eddie’s

~ and as time goes by, the reader starts wearing their sweaters with his boxers

~ the weather is changing but not cold enough for full on winter pyjamas

~ and Eddie can’t contain himself

~ he thought they were cute before, now they’re the most perfect person to walk this earth

~ the world simply does not deserve their cuteness!

~ but Eddie does notice one thing

~ the readers sweaters look so cozy

~ and while Eddie has some long sleeve shirts, he doesn’t own cozy sweaters that hug and comfort you

~ and the reader picks up on Eddie checking out their sweaters

~ and asking where they got them, and if they think they’d have in his size

~ so the reader decides to get Eddie his own sweater as a surprise

~ one that matches Eddie’s favourite sweater of theirs

~ so when Eddie comes over to their place after a dnd session, the reader tells him they got him something small

~ and we know this man is a slut for little gifts

~ he eats it up

~ so Eddie is all curiosity and impatience

~ he’s confused when the reader brings out a bigger gift

~ but as soon as it’s set in his lap he’s ripping into the paper

~ and the face he pulls when he sees it’s his own sweater is priceless

~ love, adoration and child like excitement

~ he tries it on immediately and it fits perfectly

~ he rushes the reader to put theirs on

~ and even helps them when they aren’t moving quick enough

~ when they look in the mirror together in their matching boxer shorts and sweaters, they’re both grinning idiots

~ Eddie’s heart wants to explode at how cute they are

~ and regardless of his bad boy, metal head persona

~ Eddie tells everyone about they’re matching pyjamas

~ literally writing a newspaper article about it as we speak

~ he lets his giddiness show and asks the reader what else they can match in

~ matching socks, scarfs and mugs are a human need now

~ he is so unapologetically baby girl and we love him for it

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #eddie stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie x reader #x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie imagine #eddie fanfic #eddie fic #eddie is a cutie #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #x reader imagine #pyjamas #matching pjs #Eddie is a simp and loves it