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luveline · 1 year

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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]

fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem.

You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow.

You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.

It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.

You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it.

He likely wouldn't waste his time with you.

Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder.

You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine.

"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired."

Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing."

Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze.

"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something."

"What, nobody else is available?" you ask.

His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?"

You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar.

You shake it off.

"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether.

His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does.

"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding.

Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile.

He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression.

"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.

You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date?

Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more.

Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable.

For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks.

You wander into the kitchen to help.

"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?"

"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza."

"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted.

"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook.

"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?"

You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want."

His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled."

You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.

It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome.

There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks.

"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces.

It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe.

You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–"

Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery.

He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop?

"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects."

You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling.

"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks.

Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air.

Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug.

"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus."

He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door.

“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks.

You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint.

Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual.

Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins.

"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket.

The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still.

"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.

"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?"

"Just water will be fine."

"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."

You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs.

Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…"

He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum.

Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves.

He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face.

"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?"

"Three?" you ask.

His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working."

"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering."

"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves."

"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too."

"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls."

You look down at the table.

"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too."

"What's that mean?"

"What?"

"You know what," you say.

Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table.

"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to."

You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly.

"That's cruel."

"What?"

"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.

"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean."

Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to.

"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly.

"I want to be more than that."

"You're making fun of me."

"No."

Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant.

"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality.

You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say.

"Why not?" he asks, frowning back.

"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud.

People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones.

Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly.

"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–"

"No, I am," you say.

"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it."

You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.

Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you.

"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly.

"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week."

"He did put you in the back," you say, confused.

"Exactly."

Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display.

"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally.

"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear."

Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm.

He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.

"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?"

Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright."

There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap.

Eddie takes the plunge.

He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.

You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring.

"I think you're handsome, too," you say.

Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist."

He's not wrong.

—

Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once.

"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.

"Staring."

"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?"

Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too."

"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere."

"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner."

"Christ," Marcie says from across the room.

"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something.

"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says.

Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud."

"You would be too–"

"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know."

"Don't be jealous that I got there first."

"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished."

Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles.

He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world.

He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun.

It's glorious.

And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion.

He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job."

"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever."

You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet.

"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed.

He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand.

"You're awful," you murmur.

He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.

"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–"

"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me."

"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths.

You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you.

"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up."

"I want to mess you up," he says easily.

"I know you do."

Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches.

He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth.

"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry.

You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms.

"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw.

"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not."

No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life.

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thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, it helps more than you know!! <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #eddie munson x plus sized reader #eddie munson x plus size reader

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spookykoolkat · 7 months

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kinktober | your woman - e.m.

kinktober day four - taped

pairing: eddie munson x plus size!reader

wc: 5.48k

summary: your little friends with benefits deal with eddie was more than you first intended. when eddie asks you if you'd be okay if he recorded the next time you guys hooked up, you were all in. but, you didn't think he'd end up with his phone camera recording himself asking you to be his girl. especially not in a guest room at robin's annual halloween party.

warnings: 18+ ONLY!, minors are never welcomed. jealous!reader, making a sex tape, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, raw penetration (p in v), *wrap it up fr tho.*, pet names, eddie being eddie

reblogs, comments and likes are so very much appreciated i hope everyone is enjoying this!

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EDDIE WAS ALWAYS INSATIABLE. in every way, of course. everything he wanted, he begged for. at least from you.

it wasn't like you two were a thing officially, it started in high school when the two of you were graduating. he came up to you at a party, being eddie's usual self and flirting with you. though you weren’t receptive at first, it didn’t mean you never would be.

so he kept trying, even after high school the fall after you two graduated, he found you at another party. neither of you went to college, but had mutual friends in college. so, that night you went to meet up with robin, he cornered you.

and also that night, started a year long relationship that had no title, no expectations. and even though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else, and he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else, you had a territorial problem.

so when eddie brought the subject up for the first time, you were all in. he didn’t even have to beg you, he just asked and you told him he could any time. truthfully, you’d do anything he wanted to do.

he wanted to make a tape with you, but in general wanted to record you while he fucked you.

“do you think, i don’t know, would you be okay if i recorded you during sex?” he asked, abashedly. eddie didn’t know if he even had the right to ask. he didn’t even know what the two of you really were.

“you want to record me while you fuck me?” you asked, making sure that this is what you were hearing.

“i do.” he smiled, nervously and excitedly when he noticed you didn’t immediately shut it down.

“okay.” you smiled. he just swallowed, smiling and leaned over to kiss you.

it’d been a week since then, and when eddie finally saw you again it was the night of robin’s infamous halloween party she threw every year. the concept of recording you taking him in every way had been plaguing his mine, but tried to act completely normal at the same time.

which he managed. but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

to get into robin’s party, you had to wear a costume and of course eddie was excited about this. you on the other hand were a little dreadful.

“is this a kids party or what?” you mumbled as you adjusted your costume.

you chose to go as carrie. a long pink rose silk dress covered your body and hugged your curves softly, of course drenched in fake blood from head to toe with a prom queen crown sitting on your head. eddie had the pleasure of watching you douse yourself in said blood not even a few minutes ago, right after you pulled the pretty dress over your full figure.

of course you forgot to mention that when you weren’t wearing a bra that night and just so happened to step out just in your panties to get ready, he had to be peeled off of you just so you could get ready.

another thing about eddie, he was a little obsessed with you.

“you hate fun,” eddie tsked and adjusted his hair to be even more frizzy. of course eddie decided to go as eddie van halen, which you told him was maybe too literal.

“so what do you think of my costume?” eddie gleamed and you turned from the mirror to look at him.

“you look like you did yesterday. you literally just look like yourself.” you deadpanned and he pouted. he was wearing a jean vest with no shirt underneath, brown leather skinny jeans and a bandana around his neck. you had to help him tease his hair to get it like the picture he showed you, but over all he just looked him himself but times ten.

“okay, but do i look hot? like, would you fuck me right now?” he asked and grabbed his guitar pick just to hold.

“you’re gonna bring the guitar pick but not the actual guitar?” you said nodding to his wall, the dark red abstract guitar collecting dust.

“oh, she’s not going anywhere tonight.” he replied and you shook your head.

“but yes, eddie you look hot and i would fuck you right now. if we wouldn’t be any later than we already are, come on let's go,”

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robin greeted you at the door of her new townhouse, excited for her housewarming party to turn into a halloween party.

“i thought couples usually match costumes.” robin teased as she pulled you away from eddie.

“we’re not a couple,” you said bitterly as she pushed past people drinking, smoking and dancing together under the blacklight and into the hospital lit kitchen.

“you guys have come to every single one of my parties, together. you guys leave every single one of my parties, together. what do you call that?” she suggested over the loud music.

while she bickered you scanned over the house, the spacey living room that led into an archway to the kitchen. on the kitchen island were large bottles of alcohol pushed together in the middle of the marble, ranging from vodka to rum to tequila.

“we’re friends.”

your hand went to grab the bottle of pink whitney, grabbing a little shot glass and pouring yourself one to the rim. robin grabbed one with a scoff and you poured her one, setting the bottle down and facing each other.

“to friends,” she said smugly. you just rolled your eyes.

“to friends,”

it didn’t take long for you to lose eddie at the party, as per usual. it’s always how it went, you and he would split up and hardly look each other's way, just to text each other when the other wants to leave and meet outside.

but today you were especially needy, and after roughly three cups of mixed drinks and many many shots, you rip away from robin and nancy to find him. it was dark, smokey and you were in need for something of eddie. weed, his hands, his voice.

you found him of course, but not like you expected. part of you expected him to be sitting in a corner with his friends smoking a blunt, which he was, but instead of just his friends he was the only one with a girl on his lap.

now he told you that he wouldn’t mess around with anyone but you especially if he thought about wanting to go bare with you, but you didn’t believe him.

the music was thumping and the alcohol made you feel a little better in terms of confidence, especially being in a silk dress with no bra and skimpy panties so there wasn’t a panty line. you felt sexy, covered in blood with your hair down and as you came into his view, eddie took a drag of his blunt and looked you up and down.

his friends greeted you with enthusiasm, happy to see you again after being out of their company for so long. another thing was, regardless of who you were to eddie, his friends still loved you.

“hellooo,” you dragged but kept your eyes on eddie, and not the thin girl making her spot in eddie’s lap.

“can i have a hit?” you kindly asked eddie, and the girl looked at you with an awkward smile.

“eddie’s a little busy right now, maybe you guys can smoke later?” the girl suggested and you looked at her, then looked at eddie.

you weren’t expecting him to say anything. but a part of you wanted him to. you wanted him to feel the need to tell her that you were the one he was taking home that night, but he didn’t.

“is that right eddie?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked between the two.

“we were just, uh, kinda talking?”

you pinched your lips into a thin line and nodded, turning to one of his friends. his friends on the other hand were watching the interaction, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to curse eddie out.

you could see him gulp before you turned to one of his friends.

“can i buy any from one of you?” you asked, ignoring eddie completely and watched as one guy you really didn’t know the name of pulled out his fanny pack.

“how much?” he asked and you walked to stand in front of him where he sat on a couch, and you sat knee to knee with him on the coffee table that held empty bottles and ash trays.

“mm, just enough for a joint.” you smiled. you could feel eddie’s eyes on you, burning into the side of your figure but you didn’t acknowledge him. why would you?

you were used to being single, textbook single. single, nonetheless. you were quick to leave when things got stupid between you and eddie, not caring and not thinking twice. eddie knew that. he’d been on the shit end of the stick when he fucked up one too many times. being ignored by you, blocked and never putting up a fight because it was never worth it to you.

he wasn’t going to ruin your night. not when the day was going so well, with him or not.

you watched his friend bag up the weed, and even give you a cigar wrap to roll it with. you go to take out the money you slipped in the cup of the dress that held your heavy breasts together, but he stops you.

“pretty girls don’t need to pay, it’s on me.” he smiled, and you blushed. he was cute, not compared to eddie but definitely your type.

“well,” you said as you took the baggie and the cigar packet and stood up in front of him, looking down, “come find me later n’ maybe i can give you something to say thank you?”

at this point, eddie was non-existent. you were focused on the man with black locs that were in slight waves, and stubble on his jaw.

“actually,” you paused and sat back down. “do you think you can roll this for me?”

eddie was fuming. the girl on his lap held his interest no longer, and his eyes were bored into the natural flow of your interaction with his buddy danny. you seemed genuinely interested, serious about wanting to give him a thank you gift.

he watched as danny took the baggie and started to roll for you, grinding the weed and putting it into the wrap, all while you watched. not once looking his way. soon, danny sealed the blunt and actually had the nerve to put the blunt between your lips and spark it himself.

you inhaled, exhaled the smoke in danny’s face and leaned in close, close enough to smell the tequila on his lips, “thank you.”

you got up with the blunt between your fingers and left, walking away back to the kitchen where nancy and robin resided. they were laughing in the corner as they passed a bottle between each other, and when you got closer they got excited and hugged you.

“you got weed from eddie?” robin asked as she handed you the bottle and you handed her the blunt.

“nope.” you smiled and took a swig, having robin pass the blunt back to you. she looked at you quizzically.

“one of his friends. actually i’m going to need a ride home, eddie’s probably taking someone else home tonight.” you said nonchalantly, huffing and puffing on the blunt until the mix of tobacco and weed burned your lungs.

you didn’t even get to take another swing of the bottle before the girls’ eyes are looking up a little, and you feel a tug on your arm that yanks you back. you turn with the blunt between your lips and eyebrows pinched.

“are you fucking crazy?” eddie gritted, the grip on your arm only tightening when you breathe in the smoke and taking the blunt from between your lips with your other hand.

“can you fucking let me go?” you snarled, ripping your arm from his grasp and walking backwards.

“what’s your issue?” he asks, and you pass the blunt to robin before you step closer to him.

“go fuck her eddie. why are you bothering me when you have a really really pretty girl on your lap? weren’t you just, uh, kinda talking?” you mocked, lowering your voice to match his. no one was paying attention to you, not even robin or nancy could hear you. instead they just moved further aside.

he just grabs you again, dragging you away from the kitchen and up the stairs to the first room he sees, which just so happened to be a guest room. he yanked you inside and locked the door, letting the only light shine being from outside and the little lamp on the bedside table.

“you know i only take you home every night right? we leave every place we go to together, together. even if we don’t go together— you’re always back in my bed. you know i choose you.” he tried, but you weren’t having it.

you were already irritated, the audacity for him to make you feel the way he did when he didn’t shoo the girl off immediately.

“whatever, i don’t care. i’m not your fucking girlfriend so who cares? do whatever you want. i’m not arguing with you at a party. i’m supposed to be getting drunk, not standing here with you.” you said and tried to walk past him, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in front of him.

“you want to be my girlfriend, baby?” he asked you as his breath fanned on your face.

you smiled sweetly. “no.” you crossed your arms over your chest and moved your head to the side.

“if i wanted a boyfriend, i’d probably choose the one who gave me free weed, not the one brushing me off for another girl.”

he just chuckled darkly, grabbing you by your hips and leading you to hit the edge of the bed with the back of your knees. “ i think you’re lying. you don’t want him, sweet girl. i know you want me. why else would you be trying to make me jealous?”

“i’m going home eddie,” you tried as he pushed you back by your shoulders so you’d land on the bed. you just propped yourself up on your elbows and watched him as he pulled his phone out and threw it beside you.

he crawled over you, lifting your dress by skimming his fingers up your leg and under the fabric to hike it up over your hip.

“if i asked you to be my girlfriend, would you say yes?” he asked, watching the dress pool around the fat of your hips, revealing the lacy red underwear you had on underneath.

you huffed, the cold air hitting your thighs when a breeze came in through the window. “no.”

he sat straight up on his knees, still straddling you but now unbuttoning the leather jeans to slide them down to his knees.

“mmm,” he hummed as his cock strained against his briefs, palming himself over while you watched him. your mouth was salivating already, forgetting how you ended up here almost bare to him, but not questioning it. “i think you’re wrong. i think you would say yes,”

he grabbed the string of your underwear and pulled it down your thighs, letting them fall as you wiggled your feet to drop them from your ankles.

“maybe we should record this for evidence, just so you can watch it back and see why i think,” he paused and smiled, “why i know, you’d say yes.” he was smug, confident, and had you wrapped around his finger.

you knew your jealousy maybe might’ve been misplaced, projecting about the fact that you two weren’t official and he’d never bothered to ask you either. you weren’t really allowed to feel this way when he wasn’t yours.

it just always felt like no matter what he did to piss you off or make you cry, you’d always be his.

he grabbed the phone, messing with the screen until the flash came on and stayed on. he never showed your face, only pointing the camera between your thick thighs when he shuffled downwards to spread your legs.

“look at you,” he hummed, getting closer to your heat when he spread your lips, the flash making your slick glisten for him. you were leaking, your arousal dripping out of your hole as he recorded every second of it.

“eddie,” you whined, moving to close your legs but he pushes them apart, his camera getting a shot of your bare bottom half with the dress at your waist.

“was my baby jealous tonight? you only want me to yourself?” he asked, inhaling the scent between your legs, “i did not know you could be so greedy,” he teased.

he let his phone record your cunt when he pushed two fingers into you and started to fuck your hole like that, purely because he wanted to feel how wet you were for him. you were soaking, your arousal leaking from your hole and around his fingers.

the phone was getting everything. the sounds of your cunt squelching around his fingers, the way your trimmed bush covered your mound, the way his fingers shone with your juices. he didn’t even know where to look, the phone or the real thing. he chose the real thing, but looking at the phone periodically to make sure you were still in view.

“fuck, eddie,” you couldn’t help but react to the stretch of his rough fingers, the ones that always wrapped around your throat when he fucked you on your back, or the ones that held your hand to help you down the stairs.

you were still aware that there was a party going on downstairs, still smelling weed smoke and the alcohol on your breath, but too focused on the fact that eddie was recording your every movement.

his fingers fucked you gently, not nearly as rough as he would, and you whined in reaction. eddie just watched you throw your head back when he stopped recording and threw the phone next to you, moving to let his tongue run over your cunt. his fingers kept you spread while he lapped at your hole, but you knew he was rushed.

eddie was too excited to finally record you, to finally have something he can watch over and over again until you’re able to satiate his craving for you again. he loved you like this, jealous and bothered by the fact that the two of you had no ties together.

eddie wanted ties. but you didn’t seem like the type to want that. at least, he thought so.

“get on your hands and knees, do that for me,” eddie said in the usual rasp he had after he smoked, and you opened your eyes at the loss of contact to look at him.

you were breathless from the sliver of pleasure he gave you, and needy for the hardness under his briefs. but you did it quick, sitting up and moving your body to get on your hands and knees except instead of holding yourself up on your hands, you grabbed a pillow and used it to rest your head on so that your ass was in the air for him.

the silk rose dress that was drenched in blood just pooled at your waist, letting you expose both holes to him, wet and needy. eddie frantically looked for the phone again, grabbing it and went back to the recording screen.

“fucking shit,” he whispered, the flash letting him see all of you. your holes were throbbing, aching for him to fill and take his spot that practically had his name branded on.

regardless of titles, you were his. even if he wasn’t yours.

“eddie,” you whined as your cheek pressed into the pillow, feeling his hand spread you open to the cool air, and to the camera of his phone.

“what is it, baby? you need me? wanna show my camera how fucking needy you are?” he taunted as he landed a spank on your ass cheek, of course eddie recorded him play with you as he liked.

as he pulled your round ass cheeks apart and spit on your puckered hole, moving the camera to show his thumb rubbing the rim of your asshole, and moved to press into it while you flinched at the touch.

“eddie, what the fuck,” you gasped as you felt his thumb slide into the tight hole with restraint, feeling an odd pressure that soon turned into the pleasure of something being filled.

you’d take what he’d give you, because the entire recording thing was for his pleasure. you knew he wanted to get every angle, every scenario, every moment of you naked and aching for him so he didn’t have to imagine your sinful activities together 一 he could just open his photos app and watch as he tore you apart.

he slid his thumb in and out of your hole as slow as possible, and you heard the mattress squeak and felt it dip, not feeling eddie’s clothed thighs behind yours anymore. they were naked, skin to skin and you felt the phone thud next to your leg, his thumb still curled inside of you when you felt his wet tip hit your cunt. you couldn’t help the gasp that left you, and you waited for the pressure to stretch you out, but it never came.

so when you tried to push your hips back onto him, he gripped your asscheek to spread it and hold you there.

“uh-uhn, you have to wait.” he said and you let out a cracked whine, and then saw the flash turn on again.

eddie had the phone in his hand above you, up to his chest to get all of your curves, the bareness up to the middle of your back where the blood-soaked dress sat, and his tumb still wet and sliding in and out of you.

“you want my dick, baby?” he asked, recording you wiggling your ass and trying to sink onto him.

“please, eddie, don’t tease me,” you whined, lifting yourself up just a tiny bit to look over your shoulder, getting a hard glimpse of eddie’s sinister smile, watching through the screen of his phone.

“tell me, tell me you want it and it’s yours,” he demanded softly. it was a simple demand with heavy baggage to it.

“i want it, please i want your dick so bad, please give it to me,” you whined beautifully, eddie realizing he’d get to hear you like this all over again whether it’d be on his phone or in person.

the sensation of being recorded while in your most vulnerable state sent shockwaves to your cunt, and he felt your hole clench around the small of his tip. it was so erotic, so exposing, and the simple act alone meant there was more trust you put into eddie than the both of you realized.

you’d trust eddie with your life, and when he finally sinks into your tight hole, you realize there wasn’t anyone else you’d rather trust with your body, your mind, your image.

“my f-” you sputtered, the single sound of trying to say fuck dragging out when eddie groans behind you.

eddie was catching everything, and for some reason watching himself stretch you out around the girth of his cock made him bite into his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“fuck baby, you look so fucking good,” he said breathlessly, “like you were fucking made to be on camera,”

he drew in and out of you, each time admiring the way you molded around him, how your skin was littered with little beauty marks and stretch marks. he could say he was in love with you, but you might reach back and try to slap him.

he bottomed out, his balls slapping against your cunt with each stroke and groaned with every clench. eddie recorded all of it, and let the camera catch the way your slick was gathering in a ring around his cock. he was high off of you, delirious from how you felt squeezing him like you did.

he felt like he was gonna go insane with how you moaned and whined for him in every way.

“eddie, eddie, eddie,” you chanted in moans, responding to the way he made you so full. so full of him.

your hand reached down blindly as you face planted into the pillow, moving your head to the side and finding where his cock slid in and out of you. eddie saw you start to position yourself to touch your clit, and moved the camera to the underside, capturing the way you rubbed your clit for him from below. he could feel the tips of your fingers brushing against the shaft of his cock, and he let out a throaty, cracked moan.

he moved his camera back to your spread cheeks and noticed how you started to bounce back on him, spreading your legs wider to be more accessible for him. by now, you completely forgot how you got here. you forgot that you were at a house party, robin’s house party with people walking up and down the stairs to go to restrooms and find their own vacant room.

it was exhilarating, and you wanted more so you started to meet the rhythm of his thrusts. you were able to feel him everywhere, deep inside to the point your legs felt like they were trembling already.

before you could move your hand anymore, eddie managed to grab your arms and place them at your back to grip them by your wrists. your hair was a mess, the prom queen crown laying on the mattress beside you, and tears forming in your eyes when you felt your cunt clench continuously around him.

eddie wasn’t missing anything. he had it all on tape, filming every moment of you squeezing around him. you consumed him completely, and the feeling of you so snug around him and realizing no one else would ever be able to have you like this — it was pushing the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“tell me baby,” he said in a huff, “tell me you’re mine, this pussy’s mine,”

you cried at his words, feeling his pace pick up and the force of his thrusts becoming harder. it was nudging the inside of your cervix, pressing at your spot that he knew all too well. he was so much to take, too much to not feel pleasure and the prick of pain. it was everything to you.

“you know this pussy’s mine. you want me tell everyone you’re my fucking girl?” he grunted, the phone becoming hard to focus on as he remembered why he was doing this in the first place.

“yes! eddie, yes! i want it, please,” you confessed, desperate for a release. he restrained you as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of wet skin emanating in the room. loud enough for anyone outside the door to hear.

but you didn’t care.

eddie let go of your wrists and curled his body over yours for his stomach to touch your back, reached the phone around to the front of your face. he used his free hand to grab the base of your throat and pull you up just a little more so the camera got to see all of it.

“that’s right, princess, say it again for me, think i need to hear it again,” he teased breathlessly. you didn’t even know how he was able to talk so much with how heavy he was breathing over you.

the feeling of his palm on your throat with his fingers on the sides made your cunt clench again and he just chuckled, moving his hand from your throat to grab your hair. he yanked your head back softly and pulled you up to where you tried to grasp for the blanket, but instead settled to rest on his thighs that held you in place.

“i’m your girl, ‘m yours, please ‘m yours,” you whined. eddie could feel the vibration against his palm and his cock twitched at your words.

he felt his release begging, and you were holding on for as long as you could until he tells you to cum. he knew that too, and he took advantage of it.

“you sound so pretty baby, my pretty fucking girlfriend. all fucking mine, goddamn,” he said and buried his face in your neck, ignoring the burn in his arm for holding the phone far at an upper angle to get all of you.

“mine?” you choked, wanting to ask a certain question but couldn’t form the words through your moans and sobs.

you didn’t think he’d understand, but by the innocent, curious, desperate tone in the moan you choked — he did.

“i’m yours baby, of course i’m fucking yours, ‘m all yours,” eddie heaved buried in your neck, his hand twisted in your hair to rest your head on his shoulder.

you were bent in odd angles that nobody has ever put you in before, no one had even bothered to take you out of doggy style. not to mention that he was recording every minute of it, not even knowing how his phone hadn’t died yet.

but this was intoxicating. you were addicted and couldn’t get off of him, even if you tried.

you were desperate. but you were only desperate for him. and through each moan he coaxed out of you, forced out of you by the abruptness of his thrusts — he knew.

“‘m gonna cum, eddie, gonna cum for you,” you whined at the ceiling, your eyes dropping with every frantic thrust his hips provided. it was too much, everything was too much.

before eddie could even speak, he dropped the phone on the mattress and let go of your hair, wrapping both arms around your waist and making you sit on his lap practically. he was fucking up into you as your body leaned into his and shook, squirming in his grip as you cried and moaned.

the pulsing around his cock only made him grunt, letting his forehead hit your shoulder until it perked up again at your words.

“cum inside of me, please, please cum inside,” you begged as you felt his thrusts and rhythm breaking, recognizing the sound of his voice and the moans he was making that he was close.

eddie panting in the crook of your neck, and you could still feel the sensation of his balls slapping against your cunt until he stilled inside of you. his cock twitched, and you felt heat spread within your pussy, ropes of his release filling you.

the full sensation was overwhelming, so much that your legs started to tingle again as you could start to feel the tip of his cock nudging you inside.

you were full of him, all of him and he sank his teeth into the arch of your neck as if he were a vampire, biting down until his hips stopped the stutter.

“mmmmm,” you hummed, letting your body slump against his. you were still half dressed, the pink silk still at your waist and you were praying that the fake dried blood on your body didn’t get on the sheets.

your eyes fluttered closer, sulking in the warmth of his arms as the breathing between you two began to regulate. but eddie needed to get you in his bed as soon as possible. though he really loved the sex, his second favorite was having you curled into his body while he held you tight.

“mm-mm, no, you gotta get up and get dressed so we can go back to mine,” he said as he finally pulled out of you, bending you over again to have you face down and supporting yourself on your knees.

“eddie, wait,” you budged, thinking he was going in for another round. he’d have plenty of time as your boyfriend to go rounds, just not tonight.

“hold on babe, i have to get the money shot,” he said in a lighthearted tone, fully serious and grabbing the phone to quickly open the camera again and take a video up close of your hole pushing out most of what he released inside of you. you squirmed and whined as the cool air hit your wetness, but he enjoyed it even more.

“fuck me,” he said in a breath as he held your ass open, and let out a whistle,

“so are you really my girlfriend or were you just saying that?”

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h4rring1on · 2 years

Note

reader getting very very drunk/wasted bcs eddie has a date and when eddie finds out he picks reader up and takes care of her in his trailer and reader says really dumb things and accidentally confesses her love for eddie

warnings: vv drunk reader, eddie being a sweetheart, idk what else please tell me if there’s something i missed!!

ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“yeah—but uh anyways” eddie said as he got up, “i gotta go get ready”

“why?” you asked

“got a date!” he exclaimed, “finally.”

you could feel your heart sink. eddie has a date? at first you thought he liked you—that you had a chance. but no, he didn’t like you at all. he actually couldn’t care any less.

“with who?” you got up and followed him into his room

“who do you think? chrissy, obviously”

you paused in your place, “you still like her?”

“well—yeah, haven’t really stopped” he chuckled as he came out of the bathroom with a brand new shirt

“where’s—where’s that from?” you asked, pointing to the shirt

“you like? it’s apparently called a button up, makes you look fancy”

“but you don’t like these kinds of shirts” you muttered but he wasn’t close enough to hear you

“anyway, i’m super nervous”

“yeah” you fake smiled, “yeah i bet…anyway—uh, somethings come up so i gotta go” you said

“oh” he paused, “you don’t wanna be with me for support?”

“you got all the confidence, you’ll do just fine, anyway, enjoy” you said as you walked away from his room and out the door, “enjoy your date with chrissy” you sighed as you got in your car

you couldn’t stop thinking about the date. what if it goes well? and they start dating, and he forgets you exist, and then chrissy finds out that you like him and tells him, and you’re embarrassed for life. and he doesn’t even feel the same way. and he’s gonna leave you forever and ever and—

okay maybe you’re overreacting.

your parents weren’t home for the weekend, and you had gotten some alcoholic drinks for some hangout you planned. but obviously it wasn’t gonna happen anymore because eddie would probably not be there and be with stupid chrissy.

you opened the fridge and grabbed them all, drinking them one by one, the more you think about eddie the more you drank. you just wanted to forget. forget. forget.

you got up from the couch, dropping one of the empty bottles, but luckily it didn’t break. you grabbed the phone and dialed the number

“hello?”

“you.” you said, “how could you do this?”

“what? what’s wrong with your voice?” eddie asked

“listen here, mister. i tried and tried but you—you don’t even notice anything. i don’t even care anymore. i don’t—no. i don’t care” you repeated

“are you drunk?”

“no! never. i am a child of god i don’t—“

“you’re drunk”

“okay maybe i am.” before you could say anything, he hung up the phone.

you sat on the couch, just thinking about what you did. why would you even say that? oh who cares. but what if he does? no he doesn’t—

you heard a knock on the door, you got up and opened it to see a very concerned eddie there, he quickly got in to see the amount of bottles on the couch, the table, the floor, everywhere.

“how much did you drink, jesus” he said

“why are you here” you said, “go back to your stupid date”

“alright come on, sweetheart. time for bed, yeah?” he held your hand to guide you but you let go

“no!” you whined, “i don’t wanna—leave me alone”

he sighed and took you to the couch, “tell me” he said

“what?” you furrowed your eyebrows

“why did you drink so much?”

“no” was all you said

“you don’t wanna say it?”

you shook your head

“then bed it is” he got up and picked you up

you exaggeratedly gasped, “i love bed! don’t you?” you asked

“yes yes i also love bed” he said as he placed you down on the bed, “well that’s just great” he sighed as he saw you wearing pretty tight jeans that clearly weren’t for sleeping

“how about we change, yeah?” he asked softly

“no” you whined, “you do it”

he obviously couldn’t just take off your clothes, so he thought of an idea. he took off his shirt, he could see you had an undershirt

“arms up” he said, and you raised them with no question

he took off your main shirt, leaving you in your under shirt. he then made you wear his shirt, that was long enough to reach down your thighs. he took a breath and unbuttoned your pants, relief washing over his face once he slid down the pants and noticed that the shirt idea worked, meaning he didn’t see anything.

he then covered you up with a blanket, but before he could leave, you held his hand

“thank you, eds” you said, eyes droopy, “stay with me?”

he sighed and muttered a small okay as he sat down on the other side of the bed, you turned to him and got closer with a pout on your face

“what’s wrong?” he asked

“i’m sad” you said

“why’s that?”

“because you’re an idiot!” you snapped, “you went on a date with chrissy! and all this time you didn’t even notice that i was there the entire time! do you not get what that means?”

“what?” he said, genuinely confused

“i like you, you idiot!”

his face blanked, “wait…what?”

he looked down to see you fast asleep now, and he could feel a smile rise, you like him.

you like him.

he pulled you in closer and placed a kiss on your forehead, truth was. he didn’t even want to go, he just wanted to forget you. wasnt it clear? wasn’t it clear how fast he called off the date the second you called him? wasnt it clear how happy he was around you? wasnt it clear how bummed out he was when you didn’t say anything about the date?

man, this was gonna be a whole thing when you finally come back to your senses.

pt.2

#stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie my love <3

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