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the-witty-pen-name · 8 days
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My thanks to all people providing me with a newfound obsession and source of happiness ❤️
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the-witty-pen-name · 8 days
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New photos (1st 6 pics) from King Lear taken by Monique Carboni
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the-witty-pen-name · 8 days
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Pedro Pascal x Star Wars credits
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the-witty-pen-name · 10 days
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When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-
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the-witty-pen-name · 16 days
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as a girly whose been plus sized my entire life, it literally feels like you reached into my head and pulled my thoughts to write love is blind 🥹 I hope everyday that I can find someone who feels about me the way eddie feels. I love this series so much, I can’t wait to read more 🫶🏻
thank you so much ❤️😭 this was such a lovely thing to say and I’m so touched. I really appreciate you saying this, you are so sweet
I’ve also always been plus size and I really just pulled from my own experiences and insecurities. Fan fiction for me is always very, very self-indulgent when I write & this makes me feel less alone knowing others are thinking the same as me so thank you for that. 💕 🥹
I’m going to have the next part out as soon as I can, I started it today! It’s made my night seeing this message in my asks, so thank you again for your lovely message and thank you for reading!
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the-witty-pen-name · 16 days
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Mwahahaha 😈
Love is Blind (Part 3)
Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader
Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts (part 4), reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, descriptions of bullying & people being jerks but like also very overdone tropes, mentions of smut
A/N: Please let me know if you liked it!! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to fangirl with me over these two because I cannot stand them at this point. LOL Or if you want to share any ideas/predictions for upcoming parts with me or other ideas for future stories with Eddie, I would love to hear them. Also, if I forgot to include a warning that should be included, please let me know!
Series Masterlist
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“Eddie.” 
“Hey, Eddie.” 
“Earth to Eddie.”
“EDDIE.” 
“Shit! Sorry,” he says, breaking out of his thoughts and coming back to reality. He stares at his notes in his DM folder and he literally has no idea where the campaign has left off. He clears his throat and awkwardly flips through the pages. “Umm..”
“We just made it to the fishing town and we were tasked by a local merchant to kill a sea serpent that’s poisoning the local fish in exchange for..”
“Oh yeah,” he interjects, grabbing the correct script he needs to continue. “Uh, did you roll..?”
“Are you kidding me, man! What the hell?” Gareth exclaims, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you today?” 
Eddie’s face turns pink, shaking his head and ignoring the question. He was not going to admit to being distracted. He’s not embarrassed to talk to the guys about you, but he hasn’t told anyone he signed up for the study. He didn’t want to admit he was desperate or lonely, he’s too proud. He knows his friends don’t care, but it’s a mental block he can’t pass. 
“Nothing, I’m good. Just let it go,” he says defensively. 
“No way. Fucking spill it,” Jeff laughs. 
Eddie racks his mind for the most sane way to answer their questions. He sighs, pushing a mess of his curly hair out of his face. 
“Who is she?” Gareth asks, raising an eyebrow. 
***
DAY FOUR
“I’m mad at you,” Eddie says, and you roll your eyes. 
“What did I do now?” You ask, playful sarcasm evident in your voice. 
“You’re throwing me off my game”
“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” 
“Obviously because I’m really cool and popular,” he jokes, “I’m a Dungeon Master as you know.” 
“Yup, I’m familiar,” you toy. 
“My friends called my ass out so many times last night for not paying attention and I kept fucking up.” 
“I don’t appreciate you pinning this on me,” you chuckle. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Lies!” He says in a bravado. “You are the distraction! You have managed to weasel your way into every aspect of mind- I hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m probably going to be dethroned. My reign is over.”
You bite your bottom lip, to hold back the goofy smile you know is creeping over your whole face. Never before has anyone made you feel like this. The notebook to keep track of other “dates” is long forgotten. You only want to continue talking to Eddie. You wonder if any of the other people you spoke to felt a connection this strong. You’re dying to know if there are other people who feel as good as you right now. 
“What were you thinking about?” you ask shyly. You can hear the way it makes Eddie stop in his tracks. You assume he wears some sort of chain on his pants cause you can hear it when he paces, but suddenly, his end of the wall falls silent.
“How honest do you want me to be?” he asks, suddenly sounding shy. 
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I could go the cheesy, romantic, ‘I was thinking about you’ way- which is true. Or, I could be brutally honest because ‘I was thinking about you’ in this context has much more implications than that.” 
“You’re confusing me,” you laugh, “just tell me.”
“Do you ever fantasize about when we get out of here? In like, a you know-”
“Like sexually?” you ask, throwing him a bone. He was drowning. 
“Yeah,” he admits, and you can hear the chain on his pant leg as he fidgets. 
“Yes,” you answer honestly, “I do.”
“I think about it all the time,” he says, the confession spilling out, “The fact that I can’t touch you is driving me fucking insane. It’s not even like just like the thought of getting to fuck you- it’s like being close to you and like feeling your body heat, or like the weight of you sitting on my lap, what it feels like to just touch your skin- just everything that we’re being denied. I don’t even have a visual in my head to go off of it’s just like- I don’t know, man…”
You wince at the mention of sitting on his lap. “I don’t know if you’d want me on your lap for a long time..,” you sound defeated. 
“Um, don’t speak for me,” he cuts you off, playfully. “Any man who doesn’t want the full weight of his woman on his lap is a fucking idiot. Ugh, I don’t even think you understand just how amazing it is. I don’t care if you try to fight me on this, princess. You’re sitting on me, and I will love every second of it.” 
“I’m not thin, Eddie,” you whisper, feeling defeated. You hear him blow a raspberry and then he knocks on the wall. 
“I… don’t… care,” he emphasizes by drawing out each word. “You need to believe me. I couldn’t care less about your weight, your height, your hair… whatever  it is. I like you! And that means I like every part of you.”
His voice begins to raise, like he is yelling up, “If these fuckers would realize we’re done already and let me out.” He then lowers his voice like he’s looking back to the wall. “I want you. The experiment fucking works, I wish I could show you what you do to me cause maybe then it’ll finally stick. I’m going out of my mind that I can’t touch you and show you how much I want you, your body, everything. Do you need me to spell it out?” 
“Would you have still found me attractive if we met outside of this experiment?” you ask, “I bet you wouldn’t have even looked my way if you saw me at a bar or something.”
“Sweetheart,” he coaxes, “absolutely. I know that I would’ve been annoying the shit out of you for your number. You’d have been the one to reject me, I guarantee it.” 
“I would have never,” you reply. 
“So if it’s possible for you to know that you wouldn't have rejected me without seeing me,” Eddie muses, “why can’t you believe the same for me?”
“You haven’t asked me a single thing about my appearance,” he continues, “Do you care how much I weigh? Do you care if I’m short?”
“Not at all. I haven’t thought about it,” you admit. 
“I haven’t either. Now, please let me have my fantasy of you sitting on my lap please,” he whines, “I need something to get me through the day, Christ.” You laugh at his fake annoyance. 
You’re so happy at how he’s able to talk you down. It amazes you how he’s able to see through the insecurities and brings you back down to Earth. 
“Okay, okay,” you say, settling back into the couch and getting comfortable. You rest your head back. 
“I don’t know, basically, we’re in the middle of the campaign- I literally spent weeks writing it,” he continues, “and I literally just can’t stop thinking about how amazing it would be if you were there. I’m just sitting there, thinking about what it would feel like to just have you sitting on my lap while we’re playing and then I’m thinking about how I want to feel lean back on me and I’d have my arm around your waist holding you, and maybe I’d rub little circles on the side of your thigh and I thought about how soft you probably feel and then suddenly I’m sporting the most embarrassing boner which thankfully no one saw- Fuck, this is what you’re doing to me.”
***
“Is there any way to end the trial early?” Eddie asks, sitting in the interview room. There’s a man putting a pulse oximeter on his right index finger and another testing his blood pressure with a monitor on his left side. 
Two other technicians sit across from Eddie, taking notes from Eddie’s answers on a clipboard. They have tested his levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. They’re taking extensive notes on Eddie’s physical reactions to you, and the same is done to all of the candidates- including you. They continue to ignore Eddie’s questions as they ramble on about his levels of oxytocin. 
“In order for us to gather all of the information necessary, this isn’t possible,” one of them finally answers. 
“But I’m telling you how I feel- I’m telling you it works,” he insists. 
“Mr. Muson,” one says, closing a file folder that contains his charts. “This is a study in brain chemistry. You agreed to participate for the designated number of days and in exchange you’d receive compensation. Your conversations between yourself and the other candidates is not our business, nor what you choose to do afterwards. Our job here is to collect data, not the details of your personal life.” 
“I can’t believe this,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He pulls off the oximeter and grabs his jean jacket. He walks out, despite their protests, flipping them off as he goes. He couldn’t care less about the lousy $200. As far as he was concerned, they poked and prodded the two of you enough. 
Of course, he did show up the next day. Promptly with a big grin on his face, he walked in with a happy go-lucky attitude that the entire lab team was secretly sick of dealing with. These sudden outbursts and dramatic tirades were becoming a staple of Eddie’s interviews and they equally couldn’t wait to be done with him. 
***
DAY FIVE
“Are these dice?” You ask with a chuckle, opening the small, black velvet bag that’s been left for you on the table in the room. You empty the bag out into your hand and watch as the dice roll into your palm one at a time. They’re all red and shimmer as you move them around in your cupped hand. 
“Well, I wanted you to have them,” you hear his voice explain from the other side of the wall. You’re beaming as you carefully pour them back into the bag and tie it off. 
“This is so sweet, Eds,” you marvel. “I love them.” 
“I also brought my guitar and like in a non-douchebag way I was kind of hoping to play something for you,” he says, his guitar perched on his lap. “I’ve just been working on this song and I wanted your opinion on it.” 
It's surprisingly soft sounding. You were expecting heavy guitar, something really metal based on what Eddie has told you about his music taste and his band. It’s slower paced, like a dreamy, slow rock ballad. 
You wished you could see him, observe how he looks when he’s concentrating or how his fingers look strumming against the cords. You just know he has the most beautiful hands. You imagine his fingers and try to visualize them flexing as he strums. You’re so distracted by it that you almost miss him singing a verse. 
“It’s not done yet,” he prefaces, still strumming. “I’m still working on the lyrics so don’t think too much about them, just like the meaning and the melody you know?” 
“Yeah totally,” you hum in agreement. “I think it sounds great.” He smiles at the praise. 
***
Before
You anxiously sit by the front window, peeking out between the blinds occasionally. You smooth out the skirt of the new dress your mom bought you, and you make sure your hair is still how you requested. Your mom let you wear makeup and you picked eyeshadow that matches your dress and you feel like a million bucks. It’s your ninth grade formal, and the star of the JV basketball team asked you to be his date. 
The minutes tick by and the time changes from reasonably late to stood up. You still hold out hope, and reject your parents' offers to just drive you to the dance. It’s been 45 minutes now, and you still hoped he’d be there. It was long past an hour that you admitted that he wasn’t coming. 
The following Monday you learned the whole thing was a prank, and he never wanted to ask you to the dance. It’s in the school paper that he’s at the dance, dancing cheek to cheek with one of the cheerleaders, who you can’t help but compare yourself to. 
***
Eddie is sitting at the middle school cafeteria table alone. He’s about a hundred pages into the Hobbit and the crusts of his peanut butter sandwich are forgotten about on the crinkly brown paper bag Uncle Wayne packed his lunch in. He’s long forgotten he’s sitting alone, far too engrossed in the story to care, when suddenly his head is yanked back by someone tugging on his t-shirt. 
“What’s up, Freak?” the voice asks before shoving Eddie back towards the table. He catches himself on the edge before his head comes in contact with the surface. He winces as anger boils up inside him. The three jocks laugh amongst themselves until a familiar voice shoos them away. 
“Sorry about them,” she says apologetically as Eddie looks to see her. Chrissy. He notices how she glances from him to the cafeteria table where the cheerleaders sit, and Eddie knows she doesn’t want to be seen with him for too long. 
“You can go, I’m fine,” Eddie says, forcing a laugh to make her feel better. “But, uh, I wanted to ask you-” 
“Okay, thanks,” she says, cutting him off and practically skipping to sit next to the prick who shoved him. Eddie recoils as the jock’s arm wraps around her. Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to have lunch outside. Along with the remains of his lunch, he shoves the necklace he meant to give her in the bin. He’d stayed up past his bedtime, Wayne showing him how to drill a small hole into the top of one of his guitar picks to put a metal jewelry loop through so it could be put on a silver chain. 
***
You’re sitting at the table in the dimly lit restaurant and sipping on your cocktail when you see him walk in. He matches the description your friend gave you, and you feel yourself smile at how cute he is- definitely living up to the hype. Your friend spent weeks convincing you to go out on this date- one of her boyfriend’s best friends. They’re in the same fraternity. 
You can see as he walks into the dining room, he’s looking around trying to find his date. You offer a smile when he makes eye contact, and you offer a small wave. 
“James?” You ask, “you’re exactly like how Donna described you.” He offers a polite closed lipped smile, and a nod, taking a seat across from you without saying anything. 
As the date continues, you notice you’re doing a lot of the talking. You ask him questions and you’re met with a lot of one word answers. He looks detached, checking his watch and his attention seems to be wandering throughout the restaurant at anything but you. By the time your entrees arrive, he yawns. 
“I’m sorry, did I do something or say something?” you ask, hesitantly.
“No, no you’re good,” he says, straightening his posture like it would correct the behavior he’s been exhibiting. 
He pays for dinner, and you ask if he’d like to do this again sometime (just to be polite, you knew it was going nowhere). He sucks in air from between his teeth, and lets out an exhale. 
“You’re a nice person,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits for the valet to bring his car. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t really my type. Tom didn’t tell me anything about you really. I just felt like we didn’t click.” You notice the way his eyes scan your body, the unspoken awkwardness of you knowing what he isn’t saying. You nod, and say strained goodbyes as he gets in his car. You wished you were more surprised. 
***
Eddie is met with dirty looks when he approaches a girl at the bar. He feels her eyes on his tattoos and on his clothes, judging him. He sees her friend, who's also looking at him, lean in and whisper something and they both laugh. He knows the joke is on him, yet again. 
He opts to hang where he is, leaning against one of the high top tables, when he watches another guy approach her. He’s muscular, of course he is, and Eddie looks down at his own torso in comparison as this guy’s abs strain his shirt. Eddie scoffs, but now feels incredibly insecure at how his own shirt hangs loosely on his figure. 
***
DAY SIX
“Are you still worried about tomorrow?” Eddie asks, playing haphazardly with his rings as he sits with his forearms rested on his thighs. 
“A little,” you admit sheepishly. “Are you?” 
“More excited than nervous,” he replies honestly. “This whole thing has been fucking wild,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 
“Insane,” you agree, laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 
“I just wanted to ask, no pressure,” Eddie says, clearing his throat, “Uh the other day, when we talked about, you know- what’s gonna happen when we see each other…”
“Yes?”
“You said to not hold back, I don’t remember exactly what it was but along the lines of ‘I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.’ Or something. I just want to make sure…”
“You don’t remember exactly, huh?” you tease. 
“Is that still what you want?” he asks earnestly. 
“Without a doubt,” you smile.
TAGLIST
@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @andrearose89 @sosawwycantrelate @animechick555
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the-witty-pen-name · 17 days
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Love is Blind (Part 3)
Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader
Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts (part 4), reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, descriptions of bullying & people being jerks but like also very overdone tropes, mentions of smut
A/N: Please let me know if you liked it!! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to fangirl with me over these two because I cannot stand them at this point. LOL Or if you want to share any ideas/predictions for upcoming parts with me or other ideas for future stories with Eddie, I would love to hear them. Also, if I forgot to include a warning that should be included, please let me know!
Series Masterlist
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“Eddie.” 
“Hey, Eddie.” 
“Earth to Eddie.”
“EDDIE.” 
“Shit! Sorry,” he says, breaking out of his thoughts and coming back to reality. He stares at his notes in his DM folder and he literally has no idea where the campaign has left off. He clears his throat and awkwardly flips through the pages. “Umm..”
“We just made it to the fishing town and we were tasked by a local merchant to kill a sea serpent that’s poisoning the local fish in exchange for..”
“Oh yeah,” he interjects, grabbing the correct script he needs to continue. “Uh, did you roll..?”
“Are you kidding me, man! What the hell?” Gareth exclaims, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you today?” 
Eddie’s face turns pink, shaking his head and ignoring the question. He was not going to admit to being distracted. He’s not embarrassed to talk to the guys about you, but he hasn’t told anyone he signed up for the study. He didn’t want to admit he was desperate or lonely, he’s too proud. He knows his friends don’t care, but it’s a mental block he can’t pass. 
“Nothing, I’m good. Just let it go,” he says defensively. 
“No way. Fucking spill it,” Jeff laughs. 
Eddie racks his mind for the most sane way to answer their questions. He sighs, pushing a mess of his curly hair out of his face. 
“Who is she?” Gareth asks, raising an eyebrow. 
***
DAY FOUR
“I’m mad at you,” Eddie says, and you roll your eyes. 
“What did I do now?” You ask, playful sarcasm evident in your voice. 
“You’re throwing me off my game”
“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” 
“Obviously because I’m really cool and popular,” he jokes, “I’m a Dungeon Master as you know.” 
“Yup, I’m familiar,” you toy. 
“My friends called my ass out so many times last night for not paying attention and I kept fucking up.” 
“I don’t appreciate you pinning this on me,” you chuckle. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Lies!” He says in a bravado. “You are the distraction! You have managed to weasel your way into every aspect of mind- I hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m probably going to be dethroned. My reign is over.”
You bite your bottom lip, to hold back the goofy smile you know is creeping over your whole face. Never before has anyone made you feel like this. The notebook to keep track of other “dates” is long forgotten. You only want to continue talking to Eddie. You wonder if any of the other people you spoke to felt a connection this strong. You’re dying to know if there are other people who feel as good as you right now. 
“What were you thinking about?” you ask shyly. You can hear the way it makes Eddie stop in his tracks. You assume he wears some sort of chain on his pants cause you can hear it when he paces, but suddenly, his end of the wall falls silent.
“How honest do you want me to be?” he asks, suddenly sounding shy. 
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I could go the cheesy, romantic, ‘I was thinking about you’ way- which is true. Or, I could be brutally honest because ‘I was thinking about you’ in this context has much more implications than that.” 
“You’re confusing me,” you laugh, “just tell me.”
“Do you ever fantasize about when we get out of here? In like, a you know-”
“Like sexually?” you ask, throwing him a bone. He was drowning. 
“Yeah,” he admits, and you can hear the chain on his pant leg as he fidgets. 
“Yes,” you answer honestly, “I do.”
“I think about it all the time,” he says, the confession spilling out, “The fact that I can’t touch you is driving me fucking insane. It’s not even like just like the thought of getting to fuck you- it’s like being close to you and like feeling your body heat, or like the weight of you sitting on my lap, what it feels like to just touch your skin- just everything that we’re being denied. I don’t even have a visual in my head to go off of it’s just like- I don’t know, man…”
You wince at the mention of sitting on his lap. “I don’t know if you’d want me on your lap for a long time..,” you sound defeated. 
“Um, don’t speak for me,” he cuts you off, playfully. “Any man who doesn’t want the full weight of his woman on his lap is a fucking idiot. Ugh, I don’t even think you understand just how amazing it is. I don’t care if you try to fight me on this, princess. You’re sitting on me, and I will love every second of it.” 
“I’m not thin, Eddie,” you whisper, feeling defeated. You hear him blow a raspberry and then he knocks on the wall. 
“I… don’t… care,” he emphasizes by drawing out each word. “You need to believe me. I couldn’t care less about your weight, your height, your hair… whatever  it is. I like you! And that means I like every part of you.”
His voice begins to raise, like he is yelling up, “If these fuckers would realize we’re done already and let me out.” He then lowers his voice like he’s looking back to the wall. “I want you. The experiment fucking works, I wish I could show you what you do to me cause maybe then it’ll finally stick. I’m going out of my mind that I can’t touch you and show you how much I want you, your body, everything. Do you need me to spell it out?” 
“Would you have still found me attractive if we met outside of this experiment?” you ask, “I bet you wouldn’t have even looked my way if you saw me at a bar or something.”
“Sweetheart,” he coaxes, “absolutely. I know that I would’ve been annoying the shit out of you for your number. You’d have been the one to reject me, I guarantee it.” 
“I would have never,” you reply. 
“So if it’s possible for you to know that you wouldn't have rejected me without seeing me,” Eddie muses, “why can’t you believe the same for me?”
“You haven’t asked me a single thing about my appearance,” he continues, “Do you care how much I weigh? Do you care if I’m short?”
“Not at all. I haven’t thought about it,” you admit. 
“I haven’t either. Now, please let me have my fantasy of you sitting on my lap please,” he whines, “I need something to get me through the day, Christ.” You laugh at his fake annoyance. 
You’re so happy at how he’s able to talk you down. It amazes you how he’s able to see through the insecurities and brings you back down to Earth. 
“Okay, okay,” you say, settling back into the couch and getting comfortable. You rest your head back. 
“I don’t know, basically, we’re in the middle of the campaign- I literally spent weeks writing it,” he continues, “and I literally just can’t stop thinking about how amazing it would be if you were there. I’m just sitting there, thinking about what it would feel like to just have you sitting on my lap while we’re playing and then I’m thinking about how I want to feel lean back on me and I’d have my arm around your waist holding you, and maybe I’d rub little circles on the side of your thigh and I thought about how soft you probably feel and then suddenly I’m sporting the most embarrassing boner which thankfully no one saw- Fuck, this is what you’re doing to me.”
***
“Is there any way to end the trial early?” Eddie asks, sitting in the interview room. There’s a man putting a pulse oximeter on his right index finger and another testing his blood pressure with a monitor on his left side. 
Two other technicians sit across from Eddie, taking notes from Eddie’s answers on a clipboard. They have tested his levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. They’re taking extensive notes on Eddie’s physical reactions to you, and the same is done to all of the candidates- including you. They continue to ignore Eddie’s questions as they ramble on about his levels of oxytocin. 
“In order for us to gather all of the information necessary, this isn’t possible,” one of them finally answers. 
“But I’m telling you how I feel- I’m telling you it works,” he insists. 
“Mr. Muson,” one says, closing a file folder that contains his charts. “This is a study in brain chemistry. You agreed to participate for the designated number of days and in exchange you’d receive compensation. Your conversations between yourself and the other candidates is not our business, nor what you choose to do afterwards. Our job here is to collect data, not the details of your personal life.” 
“I can’t believe this,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He pulls off the oximeter and grabs his jean jacket. He walks out, despite their protests, flipping them off as he goes. He couldn’t care less about the lousy $200. As far as he was concerned, they poked and prodded the two of you enough. 
Of course, he did show up the next day. Promptly with a big grin on his face, he walked in with a happy go-lucky attitude that the entire lab team was secretly sick of dealing with. These sudden outbursts and dramatic tirades were becoming a staple of Eddie’s interviews and they equally couldn’t wait to be done with him. 
***
DAY FIVE
“Are these dice?” You ask with a chuckle, opening the small, black velvet bag that’s been left for you on the table in the room. You empty the bag out into your hand and watch as the dice roll into your palm one at a time. They’re all red and shimmer as you move them around in your cupped hand. 
“Well, I wanted you to have them,” you hear his voice explain from the other side of the wall. You’re beaming as you carefully pour them back into the bag and tie it off. 
“This is so sweet, Eds,” you marvel. “I love them.” 
“I also brought my guitar and like in a non-douchebag way I was kind of hoping to play something for you,” he says, his guitar perched on his lap. “I’ve just been working on this song and I wanted your opinion on it.” 
It's surprisingly soft sounding. You were expecting heavy guitar, something really metal based on what Eddie has told you about his music taste and his band. It’s slower paced, like a dreamy, slow rock ballad. 
You wished you could see him, observe how he looks when he’s concentrating or how his fingers look strumming against the cords. You just know he has the most beautiful hands. You imagine his fingers and try to visualize them flexing as he strums. You’re so distracted by it that you almost miss him singing a verse. 
“It’s not done yet,” he prefaces, still strumming. “I’m still working on the lyrics so don’t think too much about them, just like the meaning and the melody you know?” 
“Yeah totally,” you hum in agreement. “I think it sounds great.” He smiles at the praise. 
***
Before
You anxiously sit by the front window, peeking out between the blinds occasionally. You smooth out the skirt of the new dress your mom bought you, and you make sure your hair is still how you requested. Your mom let you wear makeup and you picked eyeshadow that matches your dress and you feel like a million bucks. It’s your ninth grade formal, and the star of the JV basketball team asked you to be his date. 
The minutes tick by and the time changes from reasonably late to stood up. You still hold out hope, and reject your parents' offers to just drive you to the dance. It’s been 45 minutes now, and you still hoped he’d be there. It was long past an hour that you admitted that he wasn’t coming. 
The following Monday you learned the whole thing was a prank, and he never wanted to ask you to the dance. It’s in the school paper that he’s at the dance, dancing cheek to cheek with one of the cheerleaders, who you can’t help but compare yourself to. 
***
Eddie is sitting at the middle school cafeteria table alone. He’s about a hundred pages into the Hobbit and the crusts of his peanut butter sandwich are forgotten about on the crinkly brown paper bag Uncle Wayne packed his lunch in. He’s long forgotten he’s sitting alone, far too engrossed in the story to care, when suddenly his head is yanked back by someone tugging on his t-shirt. 
“What’s up, Freak?” the voice asks before shoving Eddie back towards the table. He catches himself on the edge before his head comes in contact with the surface. He winces as anger boils up inside him. The three jocks laugh amongst themselves until a familiar voice shoos them away. 
“Sorry about them,” she says apologetically as Eddie looks to see her. Chrissy. He notices how she glances from him to the cafeteria table where the cheerleaders sit, and Eddie knows she doesn’t want to be seen with him for too long. 
“You can go, I’m fine,” Eddie says, forcing a laugh to make her feel better. “But, uh, I wanted to ask you-” 
“Okay, thanks,” she says, cutting him off and practically skipping to sit next to the prick who shoved him. Eddie recoils as the jock’s arm wraps around her. Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to have lunch outside. Along with the remains of his lunch, he shoves the necklace he meant to give her in the bin. He’d stayed up past his bedtime, Wayne showing him how to drill a small hole into the top of one of his guitar picks to put a metal jewelry loop through so it could be put on a silver chain. 
***
You’re sitting at the table in the dimly lit restaurant and sipping on your cocktail when you see him walk in. He matches the description your friend gave you, and you feel yourself smile at how cute he is- definitely living up to the hype. Your friend spent weeks convincing you to go out on this date- one of her boyfriend’s best friends. They’re in the same fraternity. 
You can see as he walks into the dining room, he’s looking around trying to find his date. You offer a smile when he makes eye contact, and you offer a small wave. 
“James?” You ask, “you’re exactly like how Donna described you.” He offers a polite closed lipped smile, and a nod, taking a seat across from you without saying anything. 
As the date continues, you notice you’re doing a lot of the talking. You ask him questions and you’re met with a lot of one word answers. He looks detached, checking his watch and his attention seems to be wandering throughout the restaurant at anything but you. By the time your entrees arrive, he yawns. 
“I’m sorry, did I do something or say something?” you ask, hesitantly.
“No, no you’re good,” he says, straightening his posture like it would correct the behavior he’s been exhibiting. 
He pays for dinner, and you ask if he’d like to do this again sometime (just to be polite, you knew it was going nowhere). He sucks in air from between his teeth, and lets out an exhale. 
“You’re a nice person,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits for the valet to bring his car. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t really my type. Tom didn’t tell me anything about you really. I just felt like we didn’t click.” You notice the way his eyes scan your body, the unspoken awkwardness of you knowing what he isn’t saying. You nod, and say strained goodbyes as he gets in his car. You wished you were more surprised. 
***
Eddie is met with dirty looks when he approaches a girl at the bar. He feels her eyes on his tattoos and on his clothes, judging him. He sees her friend, who's also looking at him, lean in and whisper something and they both laugh. He knows the joke is on him, yet again. 
He opts to hang where he is, leaning against one of the high top tables, when he watches another guy approach her. He’s muscular, of course he is, and Eddie looks down at his own torso in comparison as this guy’s abs strain his shirt. Eddie scoffs, but now feels incredibly insecure at how his own shirt hangs loosely on his figure. 
***
DAY SIX
“Are you still worried about tomorrow?” Eddie asks, playing haphazardly with his rings as he sits with his forearms rested on his thighs. 
“A little,” you admit sheepishly. “Are you?” 
“More excited than nervous,” he replies honestly. “This whole thing has been fucking wild,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 
“Insane,” you agree, laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 
“I just wanted to ask, no pressure,” Eddie says, clearing his throat, “Uh the other day, when we talked about, you know- what’s gonna happen when we see each other…”
“Yes?”
“You said to not hold back, I don’t remember exactly what it was but along the lines of ‘I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.’ Or something. I just want to make sure…”
“You don’t remember exactly, huh?” you tease. 
“Is that still what you want?” he asks earnestly. 
“Without a doubt,” you smile.
TAGLIST
@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @andrearose89 @sosawwycantrelate @animechick555
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the-witty-pen-name · 18 days
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in hysterics
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the-witty-pen-name · 19 days
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She's proud.
Eddie munson x reader
Summary: short but sweet Wayne watching you and Eddie over the years. The upside down doesn't exist in this.
1983-
Eddie invited a girl he liked to his house to hang out. Wayne walked past his nephews room and peeked in checking nothing was going on. Wayne was met with his nephew and the girl who's name he didn't know sat awkwardly in the edge of Eddie's bed. He chuckled to himself and went to the bathroom.
1984-
Wayne was walking to the bathroom and saw Eddie's door open so he peeked in knowing you was over making sure you was both OK. You were Eddie's girlfriend and had been over a lot. Before he could speak he saw you laying on your side asleep and Eddie laying practically on top of you also asleep. He smiled and went to the bathroom.
1985-
Wayne heard a racket coming from Eddie's room, so he decided to go see what it was. You had graduated. Eddie had not. Yet you two were still together. When Wayne opened eddies door, he was met with you and Eddie Pillow fighting. You stood on his bed. Eddie stood next to the bed. Eddie dived taking you down to the bed, and he kissed you. Wayne closed the door and laughed, going back to the living room.
1986-
Wayne looked into his nephews room and saw the boxes piled as you both were taking them out to Eddie's van. You and Eddie found an apartment to rent off of a friend of Wayne's and took it immediately. Wayne smiled to himself looking to where Eddie's bed used to be to see you and Eddie stood your arms wrapped around one and other. Eddie looked at Wayne and smiled before you let eachother go and continued moving boxes.
1987-
Wayne was helping you, and Eddie at your apartment as you'd just got married and as there wasn't many people you had the after party there. He was helping throw trash away as you were just married. Eddie came walking out of the bathroom in his boxers and tee shirt before starting to help Wayne tidy.
Moments later you joined them on the cleaning mission. Not only were you wearing your matching wedding band with Eddie but also his tee shirt and his guitar pick necklace. Wayne glanced between the both of you as you looked at eachother with lovesick smiles as Eddie kisses you. You scrunch your face and mumble something to which Eddie pretends to be hurt by grabbing his chest.
You lean over and kiss him as he smiles finishing tidying up.
1988-
Wayne walks into your apartment seeing you stood in the kitchen and Eddie in the living room. He walks into the living room and sees Eddie standing bouncing his 5 day old daughter. "You did it." Wayne says, sitting on the couch. Eddie looks at his uncle, confused then to you as you enter the living room with a shrug.
You sit on the couch aswell also looking at Wayne confused. "When Eddie was around 11 he told me he never wanted a girlfriend let alone a wife and kids. When he met you he wanted that and more. Here he is stood bouncing you twos baby in your apartment married to you." Wayne says leaning back.
Eddie remembers the conversation between him and Wayne and smiles glancing down at his daughter. "And its like you said to me you say that now but you'll meet someone who will change that. Hate to say it but I suppose you was right." Eddie says eith an eye roll.
"You admitting to being wrong will always be funny to me you child." You say handing Wayne his coffee. Eddie passes you your daughter and sits next to you wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Wayne looks at the two of you and smiles again.
Both looking at your daughter. Both wearing wedding rings. Eddie glancing at you and smiling and occasionally kissing your head. Wayne thinks back to when you was both sat awkwardly on Eddie's bed.
"You know y/n when you left after the first time you came to the trailer Eddie wouldn't stop rambling about how embarrassed he was because held your hand and his hand was all sweaty and he thought he'd never see you again." Wayne says with a smirk looking Eddie dead in the eyes as his jaw goes slack.
"I hate you so much. I told you that in secret. Can't believe my own uncle would betray me like that." Eddie says mouth still agape starring at wayne.
"Your telling me out of everything I already know about you that embarrasses you. Eddie were married for fucks sake and that embarrasses you not that fact you decided it was a good time to take a dump while I was showering that." You say starring at your husband.
"Number one, we had just started talking n I had this big crush on you I thought I'd messed up so yes Mt teenager acts embarrass me. Number two why are you both spilling my secrets fuck me." HE says throwing his head back. You giggle and kiss his jaw.
Wayne smiles looking at the two of you seeing how Eddie's grown. How you've grown together. He's never been prouder.
Hours later you had gone to you and Eddie's bedroom to feed your daughter. Eddie seeing Wayne out. "By the way Ed?" Wayne says before he leaves ans Eddie glances up at him. "Your mother is so proud of you right now." HE says smiling at Eddie.
Eddie smiles at wayne and Nods. "You think?" He says raising his eyebrows.
"I know." Wayne says before leaving.
Eddie walks to your bedroom to see your daughter feeding of you and you glance at him. "He's right." You say. "HUH?" Eddie says confused.
"Your mom is so fucking proud of you." You says quietly. Eddie crawls next to you and kisses you. "I love you so fucking much." Eddie says putting his forehead on yours.
"I love you so fucking much too." You says kissing him again. Eddie looks at his daughter and rests his head on your shoulder.
This was all Eddie needed right here. His daughter and his wife. What he never thought could happen to him did. Nothing could ruin him. Not the bully's from Hawkins High, not his dad, not what people think of him. The only people who matter are sat on his bed with him. He kisses you again taking you by surprise this time and you smile at eachother.
You were Mr, Mrs and mini munson.
And Wayne ofcourse
<3.
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the-witty-pen-name · 21 days
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Inbox me (1) thing you want to know about me.
DO IT PLS
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the-witty-pen-name · 21 days
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your honour he can be fixed
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the-witty-pen-name · 21 days
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CATWS Anniversary Day 2 - Camp Lehigh
@catws-anniversary
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the-witty-pen-name · 21 days
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It's too much to ask Bucky and Steve to go out together AS BOYFRIENDS
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the-witty-pen-name · 22 days
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Ultimate meetcute for @mercurialmisfitmusings
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the-witty-pen-name · 22 days
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The reason I like Eddie so much is that everyone can project onto him and he doesn’t loose his individuality or core character traits.
And whatever your headcannons are, people can relate to them through Eddie. I like that there are many different lgbt headcannons and they all make sense and can create new conversations and communities.
Some people headcannon Eddie as transmasc, bisexual or gay and so many more. And even if I have my own headcannons, I love to see what people think of Eddie and how they build his narrative through their own experience and imagination.
As an outcast character, who’s eccentric, loving and free, so many people can relate to him or aspire to be like him.
And the fact that people love him so much, they spend their free time adding to his story is so lovely!And throughout all the headcannons he still remains Eddie at his core. He’s for the people.
Everyone loves and cares for him, and as a community we bond over that. It may seem dramatic, but it wouldn’t be an Eddie thought if it wasn’t dramatic!! That man is a born performer.
We are all Eddie Munson protectors!
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the-witty-pen-name · 22 days
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reblog to smack the top of boba fett's bald head
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the-witty-pen-name · 22 days
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What Are Friends For
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Rating: M | This is smut, no one under 18! Minors, DNI!
Summary: A conversation with friends reminds you that you're about to begin college as a virgin. It bothers you more than you care to admit so you consult your best friend, Eddie; is virginity really that much of a turn off? (Or, best friend!Eddie takes your virginity) Warnings: virgin!reader, PinV, some nerves about virginity and first times. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.2k
Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, one knee bent with an elbow resting atop it, in a rare display of quiet contemplation. With his back pressed to the dresser, cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he scribbled in the notebook he used to write lyrics and, occasionally, plan campaigns. 
Rain pattered against the roof of the trailer, heavy and loud and easily drowning out the tape Eddie had playing to fill the quiet. From your perch on his bed, yellowed paperback held open in your hands, you could see it falling in sheets outside the window. With the weather so dreary, there was little you could do other than sit inside - bored, miserable, rereading a book borrowed from Eddie’s shelf that you could practically recite in your sleep - and with him otherwise occupied, you were left alone with thoughts you preferred not to dwell on.
Though you’d read the book in hand a dozen times, could recite the notes Eddie’d scribbled in the margins by heart, if he asked, it would be impossible to relay where in the plot you’d stopped. The words that usually captivated you blurred into one, a mess of nonsensical characters in fading ink, so you dropped it into the sheets with a quiet sigh and rolled onto your side to glance at Eddie in hopes of finding a distraction.
The dark curls you loved were tamed into a low bun, hair swept away from his neck to provide some sort of relief from the oppressive summer heat, with a few strands framing his face. The plush of his lips were swollen, bitten in concentration over the course of the day as he stared intently at the paper. Those dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as he scribbled relentlessly and you could see the tip of his tongue as he pressed it between his lips.
Eddie’s leather jacket and battle vest were replaced by a cutoff Metallica shirt, cropped at the bottom to expose his lower stomach - the band of his shorts, the missing band of his underwear, the dark smattering of hair just beneath his navel between splotches of ink trailing into the band of his shorts - every time he shifted. Most of his tattoos were on display, save for the ones near his collarbones, and you wondered if he realized you could draw most of them from memory.
It would’ve been nice to be able to say that you were struck, just in that moment, by how attractive Eddie was. To confess that you’d never noticed how achingly beautiful your best friend was would’ve been a lie as his beauty was something you’d always seen.
Few things baffled you more than how people - closed-minded classmates, shallow girls who sought out pigheaded jocks - saw Eddie as anything other than breathtakingly beautiful. His personality was enough, a kind heart and a brilliant mind, but personality aside, you always thought he looked like someone out of a magazine. He was a rockstar stuck in tiny little Hawkins, a figure from your wildest fantasies brought to life.
The wild curl of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the bright glimmer of his eyes; it all made you giddy, a little lovesick in a way only Nikki Sixx had so far managed. With every glimpse of Eddie that you stole, you grew a little more enamored and as a conversation you’d had earlier that morning simmered at the forefront of your mind, you wondered if that was part of the problem.
A conversation with friends, the majority of whom rarely pressed about your love life - mostly because they knew there was nothing to share, in part due to your feelings for Eddie - that began as excited chatter about college, classes, and, ultimately, boys, sent you spiraling.
Somehow, the conversation went from playful fun to pressing for details about your lack of dates and, finally, a shared certainty that college would change things for you. However, an off-handed comment about inexperience being a turn-off made you question whether college would change anything at all.
Pulling yourself back to reality, reminding yourself that the only opinion that mattered was your own, proved impossible. Every thought that crossed your mind centered on your inexperience, a trait your friends acknowledged and giggled at, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out.
“Eddie?”
If he noticed the tremor in your voice - and, this time, he likely didn’t - he said nothing. Instead, he hummed his acknowledgement. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
The pet name was casual, something that slipped off his tongue easily, just as it had done a thousand times before without a second thought, but it never failed to set fire to your skin. There was something about the way his voice wrapped around the word, a little rough around the edges but dripping honey - a little darker, a little deeper - in a tone you’d never been privy to, that had your heart hammering in your chest. The thud of it was loud, drowned out the music and the rain, and you wondered if Eddie could hear it, too, as he glanced up at you for the first time in an hour.
Whatever expression you thought you’d hidden, however careful you imagined you’d been, Eddie saw right through you. With only a tentative glance at your face, his lips pulled into a frown as he dropped his composition book into a pile of laundry before shuffling closer to you. When he sat with his back pressed to the bed, arm lifting to rest on the mattress as his hand sought yours, you could see the concern clouding his eyes. “You alright?”
A brief thought of brushing him off, of pretending that you were fine - bored, or maybe tired, just for an excuse to have sought his attention - but Eddie knew you well. He’d seen your face, caught the glimpse of upset in your eyes, and wouldn’t settle for anything less than a real answer.
With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your knees and spared him a sideways glance. “I… You know how I’ve never…”
An annoyed huff, bothered by how difficult it seemed to be just to say the words, escaped as you shook your head. Eddie tipped his to get a better look at your face and the weight of his gaze burning into your skin made it difficult to concentrate. Regardless of the knowledge that this was Eddie - someone who loved you, someone who wouldn’t judge you or laugh at you, despite how objectively stupid you imagined you were being - it was still difficult to string together a coherent sentence.
“Can you not look at me, please? I can’t think with you looking at me.”
Eddie was unfazed by your request. It was one he’d grown used to over the years, one you threw at him every time you wanted to discuss something serious - or embarrassing or simply vulnerable - and couldn’t find the nerve. So, instead of questioning you, he simply pushed himself up and climbed onto the bed to join you. He shifted his body to press his back to the wall, stretched his legs across the mattress, and held out a hand.
“Alright, c’mere.”
When you placed your hand in his, shifted onto your knees to shuffle a little closer, Eddie twined his fingers with yours and tugged. With little effort, he hauled you onto his lap. A soft hand pressed to the back of your head and guided your face to hide in the crook of his neck - a position you’d been in a thousand times before, a position that made you feel safe to bare your soul.
This time, however, you felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribcage as you grew overwhelmingly aware of the heat of Eddie’s body pressed to yours. Everything seemed too clear, too loud, too real; the green apple scent of his shampoo, the herbal hint of weed that always seemed to linger, the softness of his skin as your hand rested against his bicep, the firm press of his body as he held you in place, the callous of his fingers as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to brush at the bare skin of your back.
It was almost too much.
Rather than comforting, you felt Eddie’s touch set your skin alight. It needled at your nerve endings, hastened the pace of your already spiraling thoughts, and you nearly lost your train of thought as he hummed to regain your attention.
“Talk to me, sweetheart.”
The rasp of his voice in your ear, warm and soft and concerned in a way he only ever seemed to be for you, cut clear through the hammering of your heart. It filled your chest with a sticky warmth and you inhaled as deep as you could in an effort to steel yourself for the conversation you weren’t certain you wanted to have.
“You know how I had breakfast with my friends this morning?” Eddie hummed, acknowledging the plans you’d had before the day devolved into rain and quiet. “We were talking and I know it’s stupid, but I just… I started thinking about it and I couldn’t stop.”
Eddie hummed, acknowledging and encouraging you to continue, as he waited patiently. “I’ve never really been on a date and guys don’t really like me. That’s fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not,” you amended, huffing slightly as you traced his tattoo idly. “But there’s not a lot I can do to change it. Anyway, they were kind of laughing about it. They were talking about college changing things and then Amanda said it would be a major turnoff and I… Well, she’s right. I don’t want to go to college a virgin who’s never even held hands with someone romantically. It’s not a major deal but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I really don’t want to have some cute college guy ask me to make out and have to tell him that I’ve never done that and him think I’m a total loser and lose interest in me.”
The entire confession spilled past your lips in a rushed whisper, mumbled against Eddie’s skin in a hurried huff as you wasted no time thinking. Thinking about it, agonizing over how to express your concern, would only make it harder and you knew that getting it all out in the open would be the easiest option.
Still, that did little to calm your racing heart as Eddie’s hands stilled against your skin.
“Sweetheart.” He sighed, understanding and just a little gentler than you were accustomed to, as he lifted one hand to cup your cheek. “Look at me, please.” With great effort, you allowed him to tip your head so that he could search your face. After a beat of silence, he assured you. “There’s nothing wrong with still being a virgin and it’s not a turnoff. If some asshole college guy thinks any different of you, that’s his loss. Just means he’s not the one for you.”
Rationally, you knew that.
That was something you’d told yourself a thousand times over, a reminder repeated every time the topic arose. But rationality had little place in the whirlwind of emotion the conversation drudged up.
“I know,” you promised him, dipping your head to focus on the fading letters of his t-shirt. Tracing the nearly destroyed ink, you hummed. “I just… I don’t want to be pressured into it and I don’t want it to be a bad memory. I know it’s not going to be perfect but I just want it to be good. I want it to be like something from a movie.” Though you didn’t really want to know, though you knew it would only curdle the already sour thoughts in the pit of your stomach, you allowed yourself to ask. “How was yours?”
Eddie laughed quietly as he resumed his soft stroking of your skin. “Nothing is like the movies,” he declared, pausing only when you huffed. “Not to rain on your parade or anything,” he teased. “But all of my firsts were pretty shitty. My first kiss was under the bleachers in junior high and she laughed at me after because it was just a dare. And my first time was over in, like, three seconds. I was high and horny and came the second she let me inside. I’m just glad she never told anyone. But shit happens, sweetheart. It gets better, easier. Just find someone you trust.”
Without thinking, you said, “I trust you.” For a split second, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. You willed a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole as you immediately lifted your hand to cover your mouth. “I don’t… I don’t know why I just said that. Fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie. I-“
Instead of allowing you to pull away, to put a considerable amount of space between you both, Eddie held you tight to his chest as he tipped your head once more. “It’s okay,” he assured you, dipping his head to meet your eyes. There was no hint of anger - no disgust or annoyance, no amusement; none of the negativity you imagined you’d see - and you swallowed your rising panic as he urged, “Calm down, sweetheart. Take a breath.”
“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you repeated.
“For what?” Eddie’s question was honest, uncertain as to why you were apologizing, and you could only shrug as you withered beneath the weight of his gaze.
“I don’t know. I just… felt like I needed to?”
A beat of silence passed as Eddie studied your face. You weren’t quite sure what he was looking for but he seemed to find it as his thumb brushed your cheekbone.
“Complete honesty, alright?” It was a request Eddie made rarely as he always trusted you to be honest. It was only made in moments like this - moments of unrivaled vulnerability, moments that saw you both struggling to speak normally - and you granted it readily.
“Alright.”
“Is this… Do you want me to be your first?” The question was blunt - maybe more so than Eddie intended - but you appreciated his directness even as you inhaled sharply.
“I think so,” you admitted, unable to shift your gaze even as his warm brown eyes set your skin alight. “I mean, I trust you, more than anyone else. You’re… You’re Eddie,” you pointed out, smiling softly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t think there’s anyone better.”
“This isn’t something you have to do, sweetheart. You don’t have to lose it right now,” he reminded you, soft but certain. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Whoever you end up choosing, if they’re the right person, they won’t mind. I know you trust me but you don’t have to choose me just because you want to get it over with.”
“That’s not why I’m choosing you.” Eddie tipped his head, an uncertainty few others were allowed to see flickering across his face as he awaited your elaboration. “I know that this will change everything,” you admitted, voice a whisper behind the rain.
“It doesn’t have to,” Eddie interjected, voice as quiet as you’d ever heard it. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t, is entirely up to you.”
“But I want it to!” He blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice, but kept quiet as you continued. “The reason I’ve had so much trouble finding someone else, someone I want, is because I want you. I have for a long time.”
Though you’d known how you felt about Eddie for a long while - swallowed it down, hid it for fear of ruining the best friendship you’d ever had - admitting the words aloud felt final. It felt heavy, sinking to the pit of your stomach like a stone, but you knew that the only way out was through.
There were only two options. The first, Eddie would reject you - never harshly, soft and sweet in the way he seemed to only be with you - seemed most likely to you. But the second, that was the option you wished for.
Eddie returning your feelings, wanting you just as you wanted him, seemed plausible some days. When he held your hand in crowds, when he lounged in his bed and spent hours discussing books and movies and music with you, when he threw an arm around your shoulders and grinned brighter than the sun every time you made it to one of his shows; you saw a future in which he loved you, too.
But insecurity, irrational and loud, told you that you were imagining the softness of his touch or the gentle tone of his voice. It made you uneasy, kept you from admitting your feelings for fear of the worst, and you nearly wished you’d allowed the insecurity to win as silence stretched around you.
Until Eddie spoke and destroyed any remaining shred of insecurity.
“I’ve been in love with you for a while, sweetheart.”
Soft fingers brushed across your cheek, tracing the slope lightly as Eddie watched you blink owlishly. There was a moment of stunned silence, a beat in which you wondered if your dalliances with the supernatural had damaged your hearing more significantly than you’d realized, before you inhaled deeply.
“Are you… are you sure?”
The soft smile on Eddie’s face was reassuring. “Very sure. Remember when we first met?” A spark of memory - a flash of the past, the moment you nearly bowled him over on your way to find Steve before facing yet another supernatural threat - as your brows furrowed. “I started going to history after that, just ‘cause I knew you were in that class.”
“That’s been a while.” It hadn’t, not really - not in the grand scheme of the misery of Hawkins - but it felt like forever as Eddie shrugged.
“Time flies,” he declared with a half-shrug. The soft brush of Eddie’s fingers across your rapidly heating skin continued, easily mapping the features you occasionally caught him studying with an intensity you now recognized as love, and he smiled as you inhaled a shaking breath.
“I don’t know if I remember a time before falling in love with you.”
The admission was quiet, a whisper in the still of Eddie’s room, but it felt as if you’d shouted it. Vulnerability was not new, not with Eddie, though baring your soul so completely was terrifying. He accepted it easily, however, and smiled as he cradled your jaw.
“You don’t have to butter me up, sweetheart,” he teased - an effort to lighten the mood, not downplay your emotions, and ease the deafening thundering of your heart. “I’m already yours.”
With that, he leaned in and bumped your nose with his own. He waited, giving you the final choice - whether you truly wanted to take that step or not - and allowed you to make the first move.
Though you knew Eddie would never make fun of you - not for something serious, something that meant so much to you, anyway - there was still a sense of hesitance as you studied him. Up close, you could see the tiny imperfections, the little lines and freckles and spots that made him, him, and you knew that this was what you wanted.
Before he could reassure you, tell you that it was fine if you weren’t sure, if you needed more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.
The kiss itself was not perfect. It was not something out of a film, with fireworks and an immediate, instinctual understanding of what to do. It was clumsy, a little tentative, and curious, but it was good. The warmth of Eddie’s palm bleeding into your skin, the brush of his curls as his bangs tickled your forehead, the soft exhale he released as you pressed closer, just a touch relieved you felt comfortable enough to trust him with this; all elements you would’ve never considered important before the moment at hand.
But all too soon, it was over.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, Eddie broke the embrace, pulled away just enough to allow you to draw in a deep breath, and smiled. “You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he teased, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he took in the sight of you - glazed eyes, parted lips. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”
With anyone else, it would’ve felt like a slight - a jab, rude and mean-spirited - but you knew Eddie. You knew that it was light, fond, and rolled your eyes in response. “Breathe, got it,” you nodded, serious in your study. “Any other notes?”
“Nah. For a first kiss, it wasn’t too bad,” he hummed, after pausing a moment in faux thought. There was a dramatic air of seriousness, though you could tell he was still teasing. “Technique could use a little work, though.”
There was a twinkle in his eyes, a glittering mirth that told you he wasn’t poking fun at you - not really, not maliciously - and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded. “I suppose someone will have to teach me,” you reasoned, fingers twisting in his curls when he hummed as if it was the most rational thought. “I learn through experience.”
That grin returned, bright - pleased that you seemed to have relaxed; and, truly, you had, as there was nothing to fear in Eddie’s embrace. He’d proven that time and time again. “Lucky for you,” he hummed, tipping his head to brush your lips with his own, “I’m an excellent teacher. Very committed. Willing to spend all night here, if that’s what it takes.”
Then, his lips were on yours once again.
This kiss was more certain, a little more eager, as Eddie took the reins and guided you. He used the hand cradling your jaw to tip your head, to turn it just the way he wanted, and hummed encouragingly as you melted into him. It was still a little clumsy, still exploratory in a way you’d never experienced, but to you, it was perfect. 
And as Eddie’s free hand began to drift down your shoulder, careful not to move too fast, you broke from him just long enough to speak.
“It’s okay,” you promised him, breathless - chest heaving, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “You can touch me. I want you to.”
With that, you returned your mouth to his.
Every press of Eddie’s mouth to yours, every swipe of his fingers over your heated skin, should’ve made you more nervous. This was farther than you’d ever gone, a complete deviation from the norm in which you were overlooked - only heard about experiences such as this from friends - and you worried there would be an overwhelming anxiety in the pit of your stomach as you attempted to gain some of that experience. 
However, as Eddie’s hands began to wander and his tongue traced the seam of your lips, you found that it was the exact opposite.
Eddie made you comfortable, set you completely at ease.
The idea that this would be the culmination of every experience you’d dreamt of having didn’t make you nervous. The rapid thundering of your heart was not from fear but an excitement, a gratitude that your firsts were being taken by someone you’d loved for so long.
There was an eagerness, not to get it over with but to experience it - to understand you’d been missing. And Eddie seemed to realize that as his hands began to dip beneath the hem of your shirt.
“Tell me, sweetheart,” he urged, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes - grinning when you blinked slowly, attempting to regain your sense of reality. “How’d you imagine your first time? Bet it was romantic, maybe some candles or something. Not here, with Metallica playing in the background.”
“Sometimes,” you admitted, fingers playing with the strands fallen from his low bun. “But other times it was quick, in someone’s backseat with the radio playing, just to get it over with, I think. But, lately…” Eddie hummed, urging you to continue, as his hands drifted higher - fingers brushing the underside of your breasts, dragging back down your stomach and stealing your focus. “Lately, it’s been you and it’s been here and Metallica’s been playing in the background. You’re in my head but you’re prettier in real life.”
“Flattery, sweetheart,” he teased, grin bright as he tipped his head to nose at your jaw, though you could see the emotion glittering in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about this,” he admitted, hands lifting higher - cupping your breasts, earning a gasp from you at the warmth of his palms against your skin. “‘Bout you, here. What you’d look like, what you’d sound like,” he hummed, appreciative when you sighed contentedly as he began to knead the soft flesh. “Think I like the real thing more.”
From your position on his lap, you could feel him growing harder, pressed to your thigh as you shifted. He hid it well, his own desire, but you heard the sharp inhale he released as you reached for the scrunchie holding his hair back and brushed the tent in his shorts. 
“Can I take this off?” The question was breathed against your skin, nearly lost to the heavy thud of your heart, but you managed to nod as Eddie’s hands fell to the hem of your top.
Eddie had seen you in a bathing suit before, had seen you in just a bra after a torrential downpour left you both soaked and shivering, but this was different. Soon, he would see you completely and though you felt a bit of nerves, you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t judge. So, you shifted and worked to get rid of the soft fabric.
When your shirt joined a handful of others on his floor, he made no effort to ogle you - though you imagined that would come later, when he knew you were well and truly relaxed. Instead, he returned his mouth to yours and his hands to cup your breasts.
With you sufficiently distracted, Eddie easily maneuvered the pair of you so that you were on your back, lying pliant beneath him. When you hummed, laughed slightly at the bounce as you both settled into the mattress, he broke the kiss and pressed his mouth to your rapidly overheating skin. He started at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, before beginning to trail a path down your throat. 
“If you change your mind,” he hummed, voice muffled against your skin, “just tell me. Tell me everything, okay? Don’t worry about being too loud. No such thing.”
“Not gonna change my mind,” you assured him, voice pitching higher as his teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “Want this, want you.”
At that, Eddie continued his descent. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake and you gave in to his urging to not worry about your volume. With each brush of his mouth, each tickle of his hair against your skin, you made no effort to hide the soft noises of pleasure. And with each one, Eddie seemed to grow more and more eager.
Those wide eyes lifted to meet yours as he reached your chest, one hand kneading soft flesh as he nipped at the sensitive skin of the opposite breast. He sucked a bruise into the skin, shooting you a wink as he did so, before dipping lower and capturing your nipple between his lips. And when you gasped, hands flying to his hair, he hummed in approval.
Eddie spent a few moments focusing on your breasts, moments in which you realized you couldn’t have chosen a better first partner - someone who loved you, someone who was more interested in making the moment good for you than he was in the act itself - before he began to dip lower.
“I’m totally down to eat you out,” he offered, glancing up at you with those wide eyes, “but if you’re not up for it yet, that’s okay. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”
For a moment, you considered his offer. The press of his body to yours, the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his hands and mouth; it was all overwhelming, in the most beautiful way. Still, you weren’t sure if that was something you wanted in that moment. It sounded fun, and he seemed very serious about his offer, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted so soon. So, you decided to decline his offer, for the time being.
“Next time,” you promised, fingers carding through his curls as he pressed soft kisses to your stomach. “I… Sounds nice, but feels like too much this time,” you admitted, not ashamed but almost.
Eddie, however, easily accepted your answer. “Might be,” he agreed, with an easy grin. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.” It was teasing, accompanied by another wink, and made you roll your eyes.
“You’re pretty good at never closing it,” you countered, squealing when he nipped your skin. 
“We’ll revisit this conversation when you’re comfortable,” he teased, grinning as he shifted up and pressed his mouth to yours once more.
As he distracted you with a kiss - this one messier, more eager than the last - his hands continued to wander. They trailed down your stomach, traced the same path as his lips, before dipping beneath the band of your shorts. His fingers brushed the warm skin, earning a sharp gasp.
“Still okay?” The question was breathed against your lips, and you nodded. 
“Yeah,” you assured him, though your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest. “Still okay.”
Calloused fingers dipped lower, brushed over the fabric of your panties, and slipped between your spread thighs. There wasn’t a ton of room for him to move, and you realized that he was at least trying to get you used to the sensation as his fingers brushed the fabric covering your folds. If he felt the damp patch - he did, you could tell by the pleased grin he wore - he said nothing. He would tease you for it later. This time, he simply returned his mouth to yours.
Eddie gave you a few moments to adjust to his touch, his fingers brushing the fabric - teasing, soft - before he nudged the now soaked fabric aside and allowed his fingers to drag through the slick gathered there. His touch was light, not hesitant but conscious, careful, waiting in case you changed your mind.
It should’ve made you nervous, should’ve set you on edge, but there was only pleasure as you melted into his embrace and tugged at the curls framing his face as his thumb found your clit.
The touch was electric, filled your veins with a blistering warmth that seemed all encompassing, and you began to understand why your friends made such a big deal of it all. The touch itself was good, better than your own fingers, but knowing that it was Eddie, with his wide eyes and pretty smile, made it that much better.
Every press of his fingers grew more experimental, dragging through your folds and coating his fingers in slick. He teased, brushed lightly and swallowed every sigh and soft moan you released. And after a few long, torturous moments, he finally pressed a finger to your entrance and pulled away just enough to catch sight of your face.
“I’m okay,” you promised him, before he could ask. He hummed, acknowledging, and slowly began to pump his finger, getting you used to the motion. “I kinda get it,” you hummed, gasping as his thumb brushed your clit.
“Mm, get what?”
Eddie pressed a second finger in, then, and his fingers were larger than yours. It was a bit of a stretch, a little more than you were used to, but it was nice and you told him as much as you leaned in to nip his jaw. “Why people like this, why my friends talk about it all the time.”
A quiet laugh filled your ears as he began to work you open, careful to prepare you. “Good. Glad this hasn’t put you totally off sex forever,” he teased, before he brushed his thumb over your clit and earned himself another moan. “Glad you’re not totally questioning why the fuck you thought trusting me with this was a good idea,” he laughed.
“I trust you with everything,” you promised, gasping as he began to work his fingers a touch faster and pressed a spot that made your head spin. “Oh, fuck.”
“There?” Eddie grinned, pleased to have found that spot, and made certain to pay special attention to it as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “C’mon,” he urged, “make some noise for me, sweetheart.”
With Eddie’s encouragement, and with the quickening press of his fingers into you, you found it easier and easier to make the noise he was hoping to hear. Though his space was limited, he made the most of it. He paid close attention to what made you gasp, what made you sigh, what made you moan. And with each swipe of his fingers, with every brush of his thumb over your clit, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into him as the fire burning in your veins threatened to consume you entirely.
Though your friends warned you that much of it was over quick, you hadn’t quite anticipated just how fast Edie would be able to push you over the edge. But after only a few moments of his eager ministrations, the press of his fingers and his thumb and the brush of his mouth over your heated skin, you found yourself falling over the edge with a cry of his name.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice tight as he lifted his head to watch you - the part of your lips, the flutter of your lashes, the heave of your chest. “Look pretty, coming for me. Wanna make you do it again.”
The gravel in his voice, a rasp you’d never heard, made your head spin and your chest ache in a pleasant way as his fingers continued pressing, pushing you through the aftershocks. All that existed in your mind was him; Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
Despite the difficulty you felt in catching your breath, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was pulling him close and pressing your mouth to his.
Eddie easily gave in, allowed you to take your fill of him, and only removed his hand from between your thighs when you grasped his forearm. However, he didn’t pull away entirely. He simply slipped his fingers beneath the band on either side and began to nudge the fabric down.
Without breaking the kiss, you shimmied out of the fabric - no longer caring about being entirely exposed, only caring about having him closer. In the midst of the kiss, Eddie shifted, arm reaching out blindly and swiping at his nightstand. He caught a few stray items, knocked them from the table with a clatter, and you laughed as you broke the kiss.
“What’re you looking for, Eds?”
With a bit of space between you, he eagerly pulled away just enough to tug his own shirt off - up, over his head, joining the fabric on the floor - before shoving his shorts down his thighs. He wasn’t wearing any boxers and you felt hesitant to glance down, despite the permission he gave you. No matter how comfortable he made you, some things still felt like too much for the first time, especially when you’d been half-certain you would lose your virginity in some dark room and now you could see Eddie all too well.
“Condom,” he answered, grinning when you flustered. “Don’t suppose you have one in your bag, sweetheart?”
“Can’t say I do. Wasn’t exactly expecting… this.” In fact, it was the last thing you’d been expecting from your visit to Eddie’s. However, you weren’t going to complain.
“Good unexpected?” He turned his full attention to the nightstand, then, shuffling through drawers and you laughed as you hummed your agreement.
“Totally.” 
A metallic jingle caught your attention and as Eddie shuffled through the items in the nightstand in search of a condom, you searched for the source of the sound. A pair of silver hoops, hanging on a hook near the bed, caught your eye and you inhaled a shaking breath.
“…are those handcuffs?”
Eddie laughed, the noise quickly covered with a triumphant hum as he found the foil packet, before his full attention returned to you. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, warm and bright, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about those right now, sweetheart,” he urged. “Eyes on me, yeah?"
“Can I worry about them later?” The question was teasing, tinged with only a touch of nerves as Eddie settled between your spread thighs and allowed one large hand to softly grip the plush flesh.
“Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already thinking about next time,” he teased with a grin. “I’m creating a monster.”
“Your monster.”
That brilliant smile remained, bright and wide, as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. “My monster,” he agreed, words mumbled against your lips. He kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you boneless beneath him, before he breathed a gentle reminder. Those soft eyes met yours as he said, “We don’t have to do this. If you’ve changed your mind, if you wanna wait, that’s okay.”
“I want this. No one I’d rather do this with.”
Eddie shifted closer, then, rested more of his weight atop you and shifted so that the tip of his cock bumped your aching clit. When you inhaled sharply, fingers pressing harshly into his shoulders, Eddie shifted his hips and notched the head of his cock at your entrance. And with a final nod of your head, he pressed forward.
The immediate experience was almost expected - your friends told you that it would hurt, that the first time wasn’t much fun. Only, it wasn’t so much pain as it was discomfort. There was no blinding pain, no tears, just an odd sensation that made you squirm. There was a sharp pinch, a sensation you’d never felt before, but it was bearable.
And you told Eddie as much when he lifted a hand to your cheek and asked, “How you doin’, sweetheart?”
“Fine,” you assured him, still a touch breathless as he pressed closer. “Doesn’t feel good yet but it doesn’t hurt.”
Eddie leaned in, pressed a kiss to your cheek - to your nose, to your jaw, to your forehead - before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “It’ll feel good in a minute, when you get used to it.”
As difficult as it seemed, you believed him. You knew that he was right, and that he would do his best to make sure you were comfortable, so you simply tangled your fingers in his hair and buried your face in the crook of his neck to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses against the heated skin.
After a moment, Eddie was fully sheathed inside, body pressed to yours as he waited for you to give him the okay to move. As you adjusted, the kiss grew more heated and his hands wandered, returning to your core as his thumb found your aching clit.
When you jolted, clenched around him, Eddie broke the kiss. “Fuck me,” he laughed, tipping his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “Promise I’m not always ready to blow this quick. You’re just so fucking tight.”
“Flattery,” you teased, breathless as you tugged playfully at his hair. “’S’okay. You can move.”
With your permission, Eddie began to experimentally shift his hips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out only an inch or two, before he began to move in earnest. 
The pace was slow, easy, but with every shift of his hips, the better it got. The discomfort began to fade, giving way to a fullness that was more pleasant than you expected. And with his thumb brushing your clit, gathering the slick, you felt yourself enjoying it more and more.
“You know,” he hummed, lips brushing your skin as he continued shifting his hips almost experimentally, “it’s kinda hot, how much you trust me. ’S’like you’re in love with me or something.”
“Unfortunately, I am.” It was so soft, so fond, that Eddie couldn’t seem to find a teasing reply. The words were accompanied by a sticky warmth in your chest, so glad to have your feelings out in the open and returned.
The way Eddie treated you made the warmth that much more pleasant. He made your enjoyment a priority, eyes on your face as he watched for any signs of discomfort. Even as his pace grew faster, hips snapping into yours - driving deeper, pulling out farther - now that you’d adjusted, he still kept his full attention on you.
And when you felt yourself beginning to fall over the edge for the second time, he hummed in encouragement. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, only just beginning to show how affected he was, voice wavering and breath a little labored. “Come for me. Sound so pretty when you do.”
After a few more snaps of his hips, you fell over the edge and Eddie was quick to follow with a low curse.
The high was unlike any you’d ever felt. It flooded your veins with fire, scorched you from within, and you swore you saw stars as you rode out your high. Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck to catch his breath and, after a moment of desperately attempting to catch your own, you carded your fingers through his disheveled curls. He remained atop you - weight not quite fully pressed into you but enough for you to feel - for a few long moments before pulling out and tying off the condom. He stood, disappeared into the bathroom to toss it into the trash, before he returned and fell back into bed beside you.
“So,” he hummed, bouncing onto the mattress with a laugh and tugging you into his side. “First time. Not some frat guy in the backseat of some fancy car, or in some shitty dorm room but, not bad?”
“No,” you agreed, tipping your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. “Not bad. Not some frat guy but I think this was better.”
“You think?” Eddie scoffed with faux outrage. “Okay, well, clearly we’re gonna have to do this again and again and again until you know that this was better.”
Though the night began with an insecurity, in that wonderful way of his, Eddie managed to turn it into a beautiful moment. And though you were starting college in the fall, you knew that you wouldn’t be starting a virgin or searching for some frat boy to help you gain the experiences your friends so often spoke of. You would be starting college with a boyfriend and the knowledge that your love was requited. And you loved the idea that Eddie would be with you for every next step.
After all, what are boyfriends for?
__________________________________________________________
Author's Note: Slowly but surely going through the WIPs I have had for months. :)
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