#eddie munson being the sweetest boyfriend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babybluebex · 2 years

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𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you meet steve and nancy’s new baby and can’t help but notice eddie acting strange. once you finally get the truth out of him— that he wants a baby with you— you can’t help but share the fantasy. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: SMUT (minors dni), cream pie, praise kink, breeding kink, slight degradation kink, use of “mama” and “daddy” (not sexually, though), baby content, i named steve and nancy’s baby amelia bc why not 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: inspired by and beta’d by @cherrycordial98, thank you bobbie for giving me this tasty rotisserie chicken hehe

“Aw, Stevie!” you cooed. “She’s so beautiful!”

The baby in your arms cooed back at you and sputtered her pert little pink lips, and you smiled widely. It had been several weeks since Steve and Nancy had their first baby— Nugget, as they called her before she was born, and has since been named Amelia— but you never had been able to meet her until then. She truly was a beautiful little baby, fat pink cheeks and wispy dark hair and her father’s big brown eyes, and you pouted playfully as you laid a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“She looks like her mom,” Steve said, and Nancy rolled her eyes.

“With those eyes, she looks more like you,” Nancy told Steve, and baby Amelia grabbed at your pinkie with her tiny little hand.

“She’s definitely got Daddy’s hair,” you chuckled. You looked over beside you, to Eddie, and you laughed as you saw him on the far end of the couch, seemingly cowering from the baby. You had, in his defense, dragged him here against his will and forced him to interact with Amelia, and it was no surprise to you that he didn’t want to hold her. Eddie was weird around kids to begin with, and babies were definitely not his forté, but he was acting especially weird about Amelia. You wanted to ask him about it, but you also didn’t want to do it in front of Steve and Nancy, so you made a mental note to ask later.

“Ed, you wanna say hi?” Steve asked, and Eddie’s wide eyes locked onto you and Amelia.

“I’m good,” Eddie chirped sharply, and Nancy rolled her eyes. “I-I can appreciate her from over here.”

“She’s not gonna puke on you or anything,” you told your boyfriend with a laugh. “She’s just the sweetest little thing. Aren’t you, little girl? Aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

Amelia cooed again, a cute smile on her face, and her grip tightened on your pinkie.

“Holy shit,” you laughed, lightly tugging your hand away. “She’s got some grip strength, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah!” Steve chuckled. “She’s so much stronger than I thought babies could be. But she’s so cute, so it’s fine if she crushes my finger.”

“She’s adorable,” you nodded, and you looked at Eddie again. He was still watching you and Amelia closely, his owlish eyes open fully and unblinking, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “You okay, Eds?”

“Fine,” Eddie answered quickly. “Um, Steve, bathroom?”

“Down the hall, man,” Steve said slowly, jerking his thumb in the direction of said hallway, and Eddie was quick to stand up and escape, the chain on his jeans jingling as he walked. You and Steve and Nancy all waited until you heard the door close, and Nancy looked at you with confusion etched all over her face.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

You shrugged, bouncing Amelia lightly in your arms as she gurgled. “I have no idea,” you said softly. “Eddie’s not too into kids and stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this.”

“You don’t think it has anything to do with us?” Steve asked.

“I don’t think so,” you replied. “I mean, you’re his best friend, and Nancy’s mine; I don’t think it has anything to do with it being your baby. I mean, anything bad. Maybe he’s like ‘oh shit, our friends have a baby’.”

“Does Eddie want kids?” Nancy asked, and you sighed heavily.

“I don’t know,” you said. “We haven’t really talked about it. I always assumed no, just because he typically doesn’t like kids, but… I have no idea. Maybe he does, and he’s having, like, a revelation crisis in your bathroom.”

Nancy stepped closer to you and scooped Amelia into her arms, and you rubbed your palms nervously on your knees. “Should I go talk to him?” you asked.

“Might be worth a shot,” Steve shrugged.

You watched Nancy and baby Amelia for a moment more before you stood up, and you carefully moved down the hallway to the closed bathroom door. It was quiet on the other side of the door, practically no sign of Eddie, and you sighed and placed your palm flat against the door. “Eds?” you said gently. “Everything okay in there?”

It was quiet for a moment, then Eddie’s voice floated from the other side. “Yeah,” he said, but you knew better.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” you asked. “Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

More silence. Then: “Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t tell you here. Or now. Wait until we get home, then I’ll tell you.”

“I—” you started. “Eddie, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?”

“I feel…” Eddie started. “Weird. I’ll tell you later, when Steve and Nancy aren’t around with that baby.”

“Well…” you started. “Steve and Nancy aren’t here right now. Could you maybe tell me now? I’m just worried about you, sweetheart.”

It was quiet for a long moment, but then the door creaked open an inch to show a sliver of Eddie’s body. He was quiet as he gestured for you to come into the bathroom with him, and you stepped inside quickly. Eddie sighed heavily once the door shut, and he hoisted himself to sit on the counter again. “Alright,” he said. “So, yeah, I’m not a huge fan of kids. Babies. The whole thing scares me. I don’t know why, but kids really make me nervous. I guess, like, because I don’t know how to act with them.”

“Well, Eds, that’s totally okay,” you told him. “Not everyone is good with kids, and just because you’re a little anxious around Amelia doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

“That’s not all,” Eddie said quickly. Obviously it wasn’t; his face was turning pink, his ears tinting vermillion, and you knew that he had more to say. “I would’ve held her. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t…”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Because I wanted to keep watching you hold her,” Eddie said. He took a deep breath then, and he added, “You were so good with her, and you looked so… I can’t explain it, but you looked beautiful holding that baby. It got me thinking about what would happen if we had a baby…”

Your heart rammed itself up into your throat, and you mumbled, “Oh. Eddie—”

“I know we haven’t really talked about that,” Eddie interjected, his brown eyes widening. “And, like, I never really thought about it until right now, but I think… I don’t know, this would totally be on you, because, duh, but I think I might want a baby with you.”

That shocked you silent. You grappled for words as you tried to make sense of what Eddie was telling you, and you finally uttered, “Really? Like, really?”

“I know it seems stupid,” Eddie mumbled, his gaze falling down into his lap. He kicked his feet a little as you watched him similarly fight for the words to express his thoughts, and he muttered out, “And, like, maybe it is. But just seeing you with Steve’s baby, seeing you be so good with her, it… I don’t know. My chest felt all funny and it was hard to breathe. I couldn’t help but imagine that being our baby that you were holding and kissing and loving-on. And I got… It’s dumb. I got a little turned on thinking about it.”

“Eds,” you said softly. “None of that is dumb or stupid. That’s— That’s sweet. Do you want kids, or do you just like seeing me with a baby?”

“I think I want kids with you,” Eddie said. “I mean, think about it. A tiny little baby, my eyes and your nose, cooing so sweet in your arms. Just like Amelia, but she’s ours. She’s a product of our love. Doesn’t that sound so… I don’t know… Right?”

“It does,” you said. “But, Eddie, I don’t know, this seems really sudden.”

“Well, I mean, I only figured out that this is something I want, like, five minutes ago,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “This is sudden for me too. But, umm… What’re your thoughts here?”

You leaned against the counter next to Eddie, digging your fingernails into your thighs, and he started, “I… I won’t lie, it seems like a really bad idea. I mean… Eddie, we’re so young—”

“Not anymore than Steve and Nancy,” Eddie argued.

“And we haven’t been together for nearly as long as Steve and Nancy have,” you added. “It just seems so… Quick. Are you sure?”

“I love you,” Eddie uttered, lifting his head from looking at his lap to look at you. “And just because I say I want kids doesn’t mean we have to start on it now. Like, maybe it can be one of those ‘someday’ things. Like, y’know, someday we’ll have a baby.”

You chewed your lip as you thought about it, collecting everything that was floating around your mind, and you finally said, “Would it be so bad if we did start now?”

Eddie looked at you with his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What’re you saying?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. It was your turn to anxiously look at your lap, and you picked at a thread on your sweater as you muttered, “I mean, you make a lot of good points. Maybe a baby would be… I don’t know, there’s so much that makes me wanna say no, but there’s one thing that makes me wanna say yes, and it, like, feels so much more important than everything telling me no.”

��What is it?” Eddie asked. He jumped off of the counter and turned to you, and he gently spread your knees to slot his body between your thighs. His hands skated up your warm legs to your waist, and he held you close as he whispered, “Tell me, baby, what’re you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about you holding a baby,” you said softly. “Our baby. A little baby with your everything, hair and eyes and laugh. It’s kinda driving me crazy now that I’ve thought about it.”

“Now you see what I mean,” Eddie said with a smile. “You wanna try for a baby?”

You sighed heavily. “Maybe,” you said. “We can certainly practice, but I think I need a little more time to really be certain.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Eddie said, and he leaned forward and kissed you. His mouth was warm as his lips moved over yours, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as he pulled your hips closer to his.

Before you could sling your arms around Eddie’s neck and pull him closer, there was a solid knock from the other side of the door. “You two alright in there?” Steve called through the door. “You’ve been talking for a while.”

“We’re fine,” Eddie replied. “We’re making a baby in here.”

“Eddie!” you gasped, and you lightly hit his chest as he grinned at you. “We’re not doing that! We’re just talking, we’ll be out in a minute.”

Eddie chuckled lightly and buried his face in your neck, and he whispered, “I think I wanna go hold that baby.”

You left the bathroom with Eddie’s hand in yours, and, when he reentered the living room, where Nancy held Amelia, he had a spring in his step that he hadn’t had when he left. “Hey, Nance,” he said. “Can I hold her?”

It was a sight that you had never thought that you would see. Eddie sat on the couch and held his arms out for Amelia, and Nancy carefully transferred her small daughter into Eddie’s leather-clad arms. Amelia seemed sleepy, her little eyes sticking when she blinked, and she looked lazily up at Eddie as he grinned like a madman. “Look, babe,” Eddie chuckled as Amelia warmed to him instantly, nestling herself deep into her blanket and letting out a soft coo. “I’m holding a baby. I’m doing it.”

“I’m proud of you,” you giggled, and Eddie lightly bounced Amelia as he smiled down at her.

“She’s really pretty,” Eddie said, looking up at Steve for a moment. “Gonna have to get that bat out and fight off the boys when she’s older.”

“I hope not,” Steve laughed. “That bat’s retired. Nancy can be cleaning her guns when boys try to come over.”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie snickered, and Amelia reached a fat baby fist up and grappled with the guitar pick necklace he had around his neck. “Oh, you like this? Think you want Uncle Eddie to teach you guitar?”

“Uncle Eddie,” you repeated. “That’s scary. You’ll be such a bad influence.”

“Just as I plan to be,” Eddie grinned, watching Amelia. “I’ll show her metal music and horror movies and we’ll play D&D every night.”

“Oh, God,” Nancy laughed. “My poor daughter.”

“Nah, not really,” Eddie said, and your heart exploded when he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was the most perfect sight, and you grinned at him. “I’ll treat her like the princess she is.”

The drive home was fairly quiet, Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh as he drove, tapping his fingers along with the radio. He didn’t speak, obviously thinking hard about something, and he finally spoke as he pulled the van up into the small space next to the trailer. “So…” he started. “How do you feel?”

“I feel like I want a baby,” you said simply. “There’s a million reasons not to, but the only reason I need is that I love you.”

“I’ll be the best fucking father to our kid,” Eddie told you, his grip tightening on your thigh. His eyes were serious and dark, and you took his hand into yours “I won’t ever make you regret it.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, and you took a deep breath. “Let’s have a baby.”

Eddie got you into the trailer in a flash, pushing you against the kitchen counter in an instant and caging you in with his arms. He kissed you softly at first, his lips moving nicely against yours as his arms came to wrap around your middle, but he didn’t waste time to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. “Fuck, baby,” Eddie whispered as his hands slotted into your back pockets.

“Eddie,” you moaned. You pressed forward into him, chasing his kiss, and you whined softly when he pulled away. Eddie licked his lips and smiled at you, and he squeezed your ass as he chuckled.

“Desperate, huh?” he laughed. “You just want my baby so badly, don’t you?”

“Want you,” you told him, and you leaned forward to meet his lips again. His hands rose from your ass to cradle your cheeks in his palms, and he breathed deeply through his nose as his tongue pressed between your lips. Your hands went to his belt and tugged him closer, right on top of you, and Eddie’s knee knocked your legs open so he could shove his thigh right up against your clothed cunt.

“C’mere,” Eddie grunted. “To bed… I’m not getting you pregnant in the kitchen.”

You hummed and playfully tugged on his belt buckle, starting to undo it, and you said, “What if I can’t wait?”

“God,” Eddie groaned, your hand slipping past his belt and into his jeans. “You’re such a little vixen, baby, fuck.”

Your hand was filled by Eddie’s cock in an instant, already half hard and throbbing, and you leaned forward and settled your lips on Eddie’s smooth neck as your hand started to palm him lazily, just giving him enough to get him worked up. “Eddie,” you moaned softly into his ear, gently nipping at his fleshy earlobe, and Eddie’s hands grabbed your hips tightly. His fingers mischievously itched up your shirt and squeezed your side, and you grinned as you sucked a mark just under his ear. “Fuck, Eddie, need this cock inside me.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Eddie sighed, and his eyes closed blissfully for a moment, enjoying your movements against his cock, before he took your wrist in his grip and tugged your hand out of his jeans. “But I’m not fucking you in the kitchen, not today. We’re gonna fuck in bed, okay?”

“Why?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Why do you care?”

“Because I wanna treat you nicely if I’m about to get you pregnant,” Eddie laughed, and your cheeks grew aflamed at the reminder. “I don’t want the kind of fucking where I bend you over and spit on you and fuck you; I want to be nicer to you, more romantic and shit.”

“What if I like when you fuck me like that?” you asked.

“I know you do,” Eddie told you. “But, please, baby, just for tonight. We can go back to our regular-type fucking, but I just need this tonight.”

You considered it, watching Eddie bite his lip as his eyes grew round and wide, and you finally said, “You’re cute when you beg.”

Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, and he grabbed your hand and tugged you back to the private little bedroom in the back of the trailer. Eddie’s place was always messy, but you loved that about him, and you settled yourself in his bed without a moment’s hesitation. You were quick to whip off your shirt and toss it aside, and Eddie tsk-ed his tongue and took your hands in his.

“Let me,” he told you. “Being all romantic and shit, remember?”

“Right, right,” you hummed slowly, and you smiled at Eddie as he settled himself on his knees over you. He took down your jeans, littering kisses on your skin in his wake, and your tummy flipped when he tugged your jeans off all the way and discarded them off the side of the bed. His head was level with your cunt, and he smoothed his hands up the sides of your body as he kissed just above the waistline of your panties.

“Right here, baby,” he whispered. “Right here’s where our baby’s gonna grow.” His fingers tangled in your panties and pulled them down, moving so slowly that you whimpered and shifted your hips, and Eddie lightly nipped at the skin of your hip. “Not very patient…”

“S’hard to be,” you told him. “I just want you so bad.”

Eddie tucked his hair behind his ear as he settled another kiss to your belly, and he said, “I want you too. Fuck, it’s taking everything in me not to just fuck you right now.”

“Please, Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please, I just need you. Fuck being romantic, we can be romantic later.”

“No, baby, no,” Eddie said quickly. “I want to do this right. At least once, I wanna be romantic and cute and shit. What if this is the time our baby’s conceived?”

“What if it happens two months from now during a quickie before work?” you countered. “Eds, I get where you’re coming from, but I’m horny now and I can’t wait.”

Eddie sighed for a moment, and he said, “You’re right. Fuck, why’re you always right?”

Your work responded in kind to his, taking down his jeans and ridding him of his shirt, and you put your hand on his chest to push him down to the bed. You tossed your leg over his waist and settled yourself in his lap, and his arms circled your waist as he rose up to kiss you deeply. You moaned softly at the taste of him, his hard cock straining against his boxers and pressing right into your bare cunt, and you rocked your hips forward to get some friction on your lonely clit.

Eddie held you tightly, grabbing handfuls of your ass to guide you as you grinded up on him. His mouth claimed your greedily, sloppy and wet kisses that broke with soft sounds every time you pulled away to breathe, and Eddie abandoned your ass to tug at your bra. “Take this off…” he mumbled into your mouth as he undid the clasp, and, the moment that your tits were bared to him, his mouth redirected focus onto your pebbled nipple.

“Fuck, Eds,” you moaned as he laved your nipple with his tongue. He sucked on it for a moment as his hands joined, squeezing your tits and rubbing them all over, and he dropped off and hummed lightly as he watched your chest heave with heavy breaths.

“How’re you so fucking gorgeous?” Eddie whispered, and he dragged you back down into a heavy kiss. His mouth was blistering hot against yours, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, and his hands drifted up to lightly tug on your hair. “Mmm, I love you, baby.”

“Need you,” you told him breathlessly, and you laughed lightly when Eddie licked his lips and attached himself back to your tit.

“How do you need me, baby?” Eddie asked, licking over your nipple. “Tell me exactly how you need me.”

“Need you inside me,” you uttered, your head falling back in pleasure. “Need you to give me your baby.”

“Sounds hot, sweetheart,” Eddie said. When you lifted your head back up to look at him, his eyes were blown-out with lust, and you smiled at him gently. “C’mon, then; you want it so bad, get it.”

You looked down at where your bodies connected, him still wearing his boxers, and you helped him shimmy them down his legs. He tossed them off the bed with a flick of his wrist, and the sight of his cock, red and hard and weeping, made your breath catch. “I love you,” you whispered, and Eddie laughed.

“You sayin’ that to me or my dick?” Eddie chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

“You, obviously,” you said. “But I do love your cock.”

“Good, you’d better,” Eddie said. “‘Cause I love your pussy— I mean, you.”

You giggled as he gave you his lopsided grin, his mischievous grin, and you folded your arms around his neck, twirling a curl around your finger. “Can you please get inside me already?” you asked, and Eddie squeezed your tits one more time before he abandoned them in favor of grabbing his cock.

“I’ve hardly prepped you,” Eddie mumbled as he stroked his cock, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. “It’s gonna hurt.”

“No, it won’t,” you assured him, leaning down and kissing him quickly.

“Alright,” Eddie sang jokingly. “But if it stings and you need me to slow down, that’s too bad.”

“Whatever,” you said as you rolled your eyes, and Eddie pressed the head of his cock into you before he grabbed your hips and helped you sink fully onto him. He was right— it stung something awful, the stretch of your pussy around his thick cock taking you off guard as always, and you sucked in a tight breath through your teeth as you wiggled your hips to regain comfort.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, cradling the back of your head with his palm. “Does it hurt? Just like I fuckin’ said it would?”

“Shut up,” you said as you slotted your lip between your teeth, and you slowly rocked your hips down as Eddie jerked his hips up into you. The slide of him against your slick walls was the most perfect pain, and you whimpered as he slowly started up a good rhythm of fucking you. “Eddie, fuck.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie huffed, his dull fingernails digging into your ass. He controlled the speed of him fucking you, rolling your hips forward to bury himself deeper inside you, and you moaned lowly at the pleasure that was blossoming in your lower belly. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck me harder,” you told him, and you tucked your face into his neck and began to slowly kiss his skin. “God, Eddie, fuck me.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Eddie hooked his hands under your thighs and manhandled you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress as you gave a quiet “Oof!”. Eddie was over you in a second, pressing your legs higher and further apart until your knees were situated by your ears, and he clenched his jaw as his thrusts became quicker, harder, sloppier. “Like this?” he huffed, holding your legs open as he pounded into you. The bed slammed against the wall with each thrust, and you laughed.

“Yes!” you cried. “Fuck, just like this!”

“My girl,” Eddie hummed as he fucked you, his strong hands on your thighs. His cock speared into you deep, his heavy balls slapping your sticky cunt, and you tossed your head back and moaned as Eddie’s hand left your leg in order to rub at your clit. A hot bolt of electricity ran up your legs and settled in your tummy at the feeling of his fingers roughly playing at your clit, pinching and circling and teasing you in the best way he could. “My good fuckin’ girl, love having your clit touched, huh?”

“Eddie, fuck,” you whined. Your hands grappled in the bed sheets for any purchase, any way to keep yourself grounded, and your scrambling hand was quickly filled by Eddie’s ringed hand, holding your fingers tightly.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Eddie hissed, your pussy throbbing and hugging him tight. “Fuckin’ love this pussy too…”

“Do you love me more than you love my pussy?” you asked with a breathy laugh, and Eddie squeezed your hand for a moment.

“Of course I do,” he smiled. He fucked into you hard, the bed hitting the wall loudly, and you bit your lip as you laughed at him. “God, baby, thinkin’ about you getting all pregnant, having my baby…” His cock flexed inside you, the glide of him now easy and pleasurable, and he added, “It’s enough to make me come.”

“Do it,” you teased him, and Eddie raised his eyebrows at you as he chuckled. “Fucking come inside me, give me your babies, Eddie.”

“Love the way you say my name,” Eddie mumbled. “Can’t wait ‘til I can call you Mama.”

“And you’ll be Daddy,” you told him, and a flush invaded Eddie’s cheeks. “Just think about it, a little girl calling you Daddy, asking you to play dolls with her…”

“I’ll always play dolls with that little girl,” Eddie said. “Our own little nugget. God, I can’t wait.”

Edide’s hand moved quicker on your clit, rubbing it furiously as his thrusts became faster, and he panted with exertion as he whispered, “You gettin’ close, babe? Daddy’s gonna make Mama come?”

The knot in your belly was growing tighter with every thrust Eddie gave you, his cock nestling into that spot inside you as he played with your clit and squeezed your hand. “Fuck, Eds,” you mewled, your back arching up into his body. “I love you, oh my God.”

“I love you too,” Eddie said. “C’mon, baby, you can come, come for me.”

The sounds hitting the wall were intense, wet and sticky and so erotic, and you whined as you felt the knot grow tighter and the electricity more intense. The shocks were rocking your thighs, making you quiver in Eddie’s grip, and you finally mumbled, “M’gonna come…”

“Good girl,” Eddie said, his thrusts growing quicker. “Come for me, baby, you can do it.”

You could taste it on your tongue, and you tugged Eddie down into a kiss as you came undone. Your mouth fell open as you moaned and cried, and Eddie bit at your bottom lip as you gushed around his cock. “Fuck!” you cried, your whole body writhing, and you heard Eddie whisper “Yes, baby, just like that. God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this.”

“You close?” you whispered, your body still recovering from the white-hot orgasm, and Eddie nodded, his bangs falling into his face.

“Gonna fill you up,” he said. “Gonna give you my baby, fuck, you’ll get all pregnant…”

“Give me your baby, Eddie,” you breathed, dragging him down into another sloppy kiss. His spit covered your mouth, but you didn’t care, only caring about making him come. You squeezed his throbbing cock tight, and he moaned deep in his chest as, finally, you felt his heavy balls release, and he came.

The hot ropes of cum filled you as he continued to fuck you through his own orgasm, and he shuddered out a moan that made his stomach flex as his thrusts slowed. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice raw and wrecked, and he readjusted himself on his hands as he carefully fucked you.

“Baby, you can stop—” you began, but Eddie silenced you with a kiss.

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he mumbled into your mouth.

You sighed and let your head fall back, and your thighs twitched with residual arousal as Eddie slowed and finally stopped, panting heavily. His upper lip and forehead were shining with sweat, his guitar pick necklace sticking to his sweaty chest, and he pulled out of you with a hiss before he fell onto his back beside you. The bed was small, but you made do, and you hugged Eddie close to you and nestled your head under his chin.

“Think it’ll take?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. He smoothed his hand down your hair and he placed a kiss to your forehead, and his hand settled against the small of your back.

“I hope so,” he said. “I can hardly wait to see.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #tw parenthood #eddie munson x reader #my writing

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 6 months

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You’ll Never Be A Burden

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: When you can’t get out of bed, answer your phone, or shake the feeling of hopelessness your boyfriend is there to reassure you that he will always be there for you no matter what. WK: 1.6k moodboard

Warnings: Talk of mental illness, depression, feeling unloved/unworthy of love, not being able to get out of bed, insomnia, food mention, hurt/comfort, Eddie being the sweetest sweetie. Just all around this is centered around mental illness and how it feels to be too depressed to get out of bed. Please let me know if I missed any. Also I wrote this in one sitting so there’s probably typos. 18+MDNI

A/N: I don’t specifically mention a certain mental illness but for me this is how it feels when I’m having a BPD episode. So for me this symbolizes borderline depression but it can apply to any type of depression or mental low. I’ve been really going through it lately, so I just harnessed how I feel into writing this and it was very therapeutic. I wish Eddie could come hold me.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been laying in bed in between awake and asleep at this point. A few hours? A day? Two? All you know is that the clock on your nightstand reads 2:48AM and you have been trying to force your brain to shut off since it read 8PM. You tried everything to calm the war raging inside your mind. You took so many deep breaths at this point you lost count, you pulled all the blankets over your head and tightened your body into the smallest ball you possibly could, you rocked back and forth while you repeated your mantra of “you’re okay” to yourself over and over again. But no matter what you did you couldn’t stop the negative thoughts from swimming around inside you.

You hated when you got like this. Overcome by this feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of shame. Loneliness. Not being able to shake the feeling as if you’re a burden to everyone around you. So you isolate yourself. Not wanting to drag anyone down with your negativity, not wanting to lash out at the people who are just trying to help you, not being able to bear the feeling of being alone in a room full of people.

Your friends had all texted and called you, social media notifications and voicemails piling up. Not even being able to muster up the energy to pick up the phone and respond to the one person you knew would make you feel better. So instead you thought of him. The way his beautiful eyes lit up when a smile spread across his lips. The way it felt to have his arms around you, his smell, his soothing voice. It’s what kept you going on days like this. Him.

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone. To ask him to come hold you. You were embarrassed, embarrassed of the disaster your house has become, embarrassed of your unbrushed teeth and messy hair, the pajama pants that felt like they were stuck to your body. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He’s only ever seen you like this once, and he was amazing, perfect even. But to this day you beat yourself up over those days he took care of you, washed you, held you while you sobbed, read to you in exaggerated voices until you dozed off with your head in his lap and his fingers in your hair.

You know he wouldn’t mind, that he was happy to help you, be there for you. But you were so scared of him seeing you differently and changing his mind about you. You were terrified that if he saw the real you, truly, that he would leave. You’d become too much, too little, never the right amount, just like you always did.

That’s why when you heard a knock on your door your heart race picked up, you felt your skin flush, because you knew it was him. You knew he’d come, you knew he’d be worried and you can’t decide if worrying him to the point that he showed up at your door or just texting him back was worse. You heard him knock lightly on the door a few more times before you heard the key you had given him turning the lock.

“Baby? Are you here? I just came to check on you… haven’t heard from you since yesterday morning and I was starting to worry.”

His voice became louder as he talked, his footsteps padding down the hall to your bedroom door. Your head was still shoved under your blankets so you didn’t see him but you heard the knob turn and the door swing open.

“Sweetheart…”

Eddie’s heart nearly shattered when he opened your bedroom door. Your room was trashed, the black out curtains drawn blocking out the moonlight, and even your fairy lights you always had on, even in the night, were shut off. He couldn’t see you, but he could see the outline of you and hear your breathing. He walks over to your bed and sits on the side next to the lump of blankets you’ve buried yourself in. His hand comes up and runs along your side and it causes you to jump.

“Baby… please let me help you? Let me take care of you. I know you’re scared of being a burden but you’re never a burden to me.” He continued to run his hand up and down your body, the feeling already causing your body to subconsciously relax just the tiniest bit. “Can you come out? Please? I wanna see my girl.”

“I look horrible Eddie… I don’t want you to see me like this.” You pull the blanket tighter against you, shutting him out no matter how loud your body screamed at you to just throw yourself into his arms.

“I’ve seen you wasted, vomiting your guts out in Harrington’s bathtub, it can’t be much worse than that baby. Come oooonnnnn pleeeseee. I’m not above begging.”

He chuckles, his hand squeezing your hip lightly before it resumes caressing you. You sigh, pulling the blanket back just enough to peak your eyes out and him and your heart swells. He’s so beautiful, just the sight of him made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Just being near him made you feel just a little bit more alive. He pushes the blanket the rest of the way off your head, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl. Hi baby.”

He cups your face in his hand, running his thumb along your sweaty cheek, not caring if you think you look awful, you’re always gorgeous to him. Even like this. Especially like this. Raw and real. He wants you to feel safe with him when you’re in this low place. He wants to sink down to your level and pull you back up with his hand in yours. Eddie would do anything for you. He knows that scares you, he knows you want to believe him but it’s hard to fight the feeling that he’s going to abandon you. But he will do whatever it takes to prove you wrong. To prove that he isn’t like everyone else. To prove that he will stay.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out a scratchy and whiney and it makes you even more embarrassed than you already are. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart. I’m here for you, always. I brought your favorite snacks, bubbles, and your favorite teddy bear, me. Come here, let me hold you.”

He pushes the blanket back further and you shiver when the cool air of your room hits your body. He holds his arms out to you and your whole body tingles. He’s here for you. He wants to be here for you, and even though that terrifies you, the soft look on his face makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe. You push yourself up and he grabs you by the forearms pulling you into his lap and cradling you like a small child.

As soon as his arms are around you the floodgates open, sobs leaving your entire body shaking while your tears soak Eddie’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just holds you while you cry, running his hands through your tangled hair, caressing your skin under your oversized shirt, kissing on your tear stained cheeks. After a while your sobs turn to small cries before they finally stop.

“It’s okay baby girl, you’re okay. I’m here for you, okay? Let me run us a nice bath, afterwards you can eat something, only if you want, if not that’s okay, I just want you to drink some water for me okay?”

“Okay Eddie… thank you, I-“

“Shh, you don’t have to thank me and you don't need to apologize, I’m your boyfriend and I love you, let me be here for you.” He smiles sweetly at you, rubbing the remaining tears from your cheeks and gathering you in his arms.

Eddie spends the night making good on his promises. He pampers you in the bath, washing you and brushing your hair, even putting lotion on your skin afterwards. He puts your comfort movie on tv in the living room so you can lay on the couch while he makes your safe meal. He doesn’t push you to talk, he knows you will when you’re ready. He holds you and tells you he loves you while he makes commentary on your favorite movie. When you finally start to feel sleep creeping up on you he ushers you back to your bed, the sheets now changed because he insisted it wasn’t a big deal. He holds you tight, and kisses you over and over again. He even gets you to giggle and pulls a genuine smile out of you a few times.

As you lay there in the love of your life’s arms you feel less hopeless. You feel less alone. You feel your body start to warm inside from the tips of your toes all the way to your nose as he places a gentle kiss on it. You feel safe. You regret not calling him sooner but the fact that he came without you even asking makes it even more special to you. Your mind can tell you he doesn’t care all it wants, because he’s always there to tell you he does.

“I love you angel, get some rest, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll always be here.”

“I love you Eddie. I know you told me not to thank you, but thank you, for being here for me. For being you.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, placing a gentle kiss there before you doze off into a peaceful sleep. In the arms of someone you know loves you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson fanfiction

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever.

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems.

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore.

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you.

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough. You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against.

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles).

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into.

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary.

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you.

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her.

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips.

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means.

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you.

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds.

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about.

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right.

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week.

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now.

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie.

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you.

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call.

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.”

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting.

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer.

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way.

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye.

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm.

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing.

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college.

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs.

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be.

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching.

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully.

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease.

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago.

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need.

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret.

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure.

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?”

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading — and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly.

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious.

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for.

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry.

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him.

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him.

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so.

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes.

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you.

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it.

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all.

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?”

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats.

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling.

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day.

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down.

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone.

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him.

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold.

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler.

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock.

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.”

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time. “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are.

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were.

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?”

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so.

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.”

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost.

But it’s happened before.

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight.

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise.

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak.

You want him.

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

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dimepdf · 2 years

Text

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST.

remember to show your support by sending me a message or reblog! I always appreciate feedback on any of my works and appreciate everyone who comments.

key: ☁️ fluff , 🕊 angst , ❕ smut , ❔ on hold

★ EDDIE MUNSON/JOSEPH QUINN!

nice for what? ☁️ 🕊❔

─── ☆ black-coded | fem!reader | social media au

after falling in love with you on the set of Stranger Things, your relationship with Joseph blossoms not only on screen but also off.

ONESHOTS:

sex, drugs, and rock.❕

─── ☆ 3.3k | fem!reader | friends to lovers

you devise a plan to confess your feelings for your best friend Eddie, and things quickly escalate beyond your expectations.

the sweetest pie.❕

─── ☆ 1.2k | fem!reader | threesome

when you agreed to going to a high school party with your two boyfriends, you expected the night to end differently.

trying new things.❕

─── ☆ 2.6k | fem!reader | dom/sub

the night begins with new discoveries as Eddie, as well as you, learn something new about himself.

study date.❕

─── ☆ 1k | hopper!reader | friends to lovers

it took a lot of convincing to have you best friend Eddie study with you, who knew that all you had to do was offer a blowjob?

take my breath. 🕊❕ ─── ☆ 2.9k | male!reader | cheating

You couldn't stop drooling over your bandmate Eddie Munson, who was obviously smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. It's too bad that you could care less about the blonde anyway.

warm bodies.❕

─── ☆ 1.3k | fem!reader | dom/sub

It's so hot outside that the last thing you want to do is listen to Eddie's begging. But it's difficult to resist when his thighs look so good in those jeans.

down low dealer.❕

─── ☆ 3.6k | fem!reader | semi-public

when you go into the woods to get drugs from Hawkins bad-boy Eddie Munson, you run into a minor snag: you don't have any cash. but Eddie, being the sweetheart that he is, puts an offer on the table that you just can't resist.

are you mine. ☁️❕

─── ☆ 5k | fem!reader | first time

growing up in a religious household, sex has always been a taboo subject for you, but with Eddie, you trusted him enough to help you handle that new experience together.

intertwined. ☁️

─── ☆ 2.2k | male!reader | secret relationship

Joseph has a hard time trying to keep your secret relationship knew to the other cast member.

distant lover. 🕊❕

─── ☆ 2.1k | fem!reader | cheating

you love your boyfriend Steve so much, but you also couldn’t help the hold that the curly haired bass player had over you.

your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 🕊

─── ☆ 4.4k | male!reader | mutual pinning

who knew that when you befriended the braced faced little kid from your DND club would lead to this.

oh step bro.❕

─── ☆ 1.8k | fem!reader | stuck fetish

while just wanting to wash your clothes you get stuck becoming familiar premise to something Eddie has seen in his porn history.

DRABBLES:

period case. ☁️

your boyfriend Eddie nervously taking care of you during shark week.

best friends brother.❕

Eddie feels guilty for falling for you while he also has a thing for your younger sister Chrissy.

with all your heart. ☁️

their reaction when you say that you love them for the first time.

emo boy. ☁️❕

he may not look like he gets bitches, but honey that dick was 11 inches. part two

★ STEVE HARRINGTON/JOE KEERY!

ONESHOTS:

sex, drugs, and rock.❕

─── ☆ 3.3k | fem!reader | friends to lovers

you devise a plan to confess your feelings for your best friend Eddie, and things quickly escalate beyond your expectations.

never in your sun. ☁️

─── ☆ 2.9k | fem!reader | pining

he was pacing his home while holding a piece of paper with your phone number scrawled on it in his fingers.

wired interview. ☁️

─── ☆ 1.4k | fem!reader | social media au

Joe Keery's first public interview with his lovely wife.

house tour interview. ☁️

─── ☆ 1.7k | male!reader | social media au

after Joe Keery and his co-star break the internet by coming out as exclusive, the couple decide to give the fans just one more peek into their lives by doing a house tour of their new home.

DRABBLES:

with all your heart. ☁️

their reaction when you say that you love them for the first time.

★ ROBIN BUCKELY!

but i'm a cheerleader. ☁️ 🕊❔

─── ☆ slow burn | fem!reader | friends to lovers

Robin is having a hard time managing her emotions as she hides her unclear sexual orientation and harbors a crush on a girl who also happens to have an eye for Robin's obnoxious coworker Steve Harrington.

ONESHOTS:

i think she likes girls. ☁️

─── ☆ 1.3k | fem!reader | established relationship

Robin decides she needs to do something to de-stress herself and her stoner girlfriend, with whom she is completely in love decides she knows exactly what will help the redhead relax.

DRABBLES:

with all your heart. ☁️

their reaction when you say that you love them for the first time.

★ MAX MAYFIELD!

ONESHOTS:

midnight love. ☁️

─── ☆ 2k | fem!reader | pining

you silently prayed that Max would forget what happened and never bring it up again, but a month passed and neither of you brought it up. you felt strange feelings for Max but tried to suppress them.

★ JONATHAN BYRES!

ONESHOTS:

worth you. 🕊❕

─── ☆ 7.4k | male!reader | pining

you'd spent a lot of time with Jonathan, and before you knew it, your feelings for him had surfaced. you tried to hide the uneasy feeling that surrounded you whenever you two hung out alone.

DRABBLES:

nsfw head-canons. ☁️❕

what type of partner Jonathan would be.

★ WILL BYERS!

everywhere.

─── ☆ season one | male!oc | mutual pining

as a boy growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, Kaylin didn't understand a lot of things about his family or why the boy he had feelings for suddenly went missing.

★ ARGYLE!

ONESHOTS:

basement couch.❕

─── ☆ 1k | fem!reader | slight sub/dom

your boyfriend Ari being in love with your small boobs.

won’t bite.❕

─── ☆ 2.5k | fem!reader | established relationship

your boyfriend Argyle was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, but as his first girlfriend, you knew you'd have your hands full.

red roses.❕

─── ☆ 1.4k | fem!reader | car sex

Ari finally asked if you were faking it because you were quite the performer, just not a particularly good one.

head over heels.❕

─── ☆ 2.2k | fem!reader | enemy to lovers

Argyle being in love with his best friends sister, his confession to her getting a little out of hand but at least he got to lose his virginity as a massive plus.

DRABBLES:

nicknames. ☁️

cute dating head canons.

★ JIM HOPPER!

ONESHOTS:

playing dangerous.❕

─── ☆ 6.1k | fem!reader | age gap

you would claim that the trauma of caring for your siblings and witnessing your mother struggle to put food on the table each day did not have a significant impact on you, but in truth, you had major fucking daddy issues.

stargirl interlude.❕

─── ☆ 2.8k | fem!reader | authority kink

your parents may have sent you away to live with your grandparents in Hawkins because you were always a risk-taking lady. Sadly, they never would have imagined that you would end up having your back blown out by the towns sherif

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — nav ]#stranger things

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zaynsxsoul · 2 years

Text

Forever yours, faithfully | Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: After the party comes back from the upside down, Dustin takes you to have your long awaited reunion with your boyfriend Eddie.

warnings: Spoilers, mentions of blood and wounds, established relationship, pure needed fluff

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You just can’t bear that well known aching feeling any longer. The way that your heartbeat pounds painfully against your chest, your ears torturing you with a non-stop buzz, the warm tear streams are burning and stinging your skin with every hour that goes by, every minute, every second.

It is torture combined with pure empty agony hurting deep down in your soul.

Yearning Eddie has never been this painful before. Going mad is not too far away from reality, while you try to mend your poor hastened heart that’s begging to be alleviated.

The only comfort you have and that is keeping you sane, is the dim memory of his cigary and bergamot scent, still slightly lingering to the leather jacket he left behind for you to wear.

And that’s what you do. You’re holding on to it. Pleading to remember the warmth of his body around yours and the sound of that mellow voice of his. That loud and uniquely raspy laugh that feels like home.

And of course, holding on to that one last heartfelt kiss he gave you, before saying goodbye, promising you he would come back for ‘his girl’.

After the supposed earthquake that made almost the whole town of Hawkins leave, you just knew things had gone wrong. A dreadful feeling.

And thats when the worst ideas begin to plot in your head. Memories like flashing lights in your mind, going back to those tender core memories of him that held on to you closely.

You had sacrificed yourself at the Wheeler’s House to get caught before the party did, so while everyone was crawling down to literal hell, you wound up being held up like a criminal at the police station. Questioned and left by yourself with only the bitter taste of loneliness.

It takes one full day for your release from the station. And sweet little Dustin is the one waiting for you. Wobbly legs sprint towards him, And when he hugs you, his arms feel truly safe. It’s a warm friendly welcome, almost as if he can feel your pain. Because that same torment is there. Like an obnoxious thorn, hurting you, and reminding you of Eddie every single time you dare and close your eyes.

“Thank you for coming.” And all he can do is smile at your words. It’s hurtful for him to see you like this. So in between your tears and hopelessness of it all, he holds you tightly near his chest, sweetly caressing your back.

“Geez, almost thought we’d lost you.” He’s honest, a gentle smile peeking from his lips before pulling away gently. “There’s someone who will be pleased to see you again.”

And just like that, you can finally breath again. Painful dark torture suddenly ceases and vanishes away. Dustin guides you into the woods, taking you to that well known place that was Hoppers cabin.

To arrive and greet your friends is like a breath of fresh air. Even more, when you know who is inside, waiting for you.

“M’lady, after you” Dustin pleads, opening the squeaky door and guiding you through the reckless hallway into a bedroom, slowly opening the door as your head peeks inside. “I’ll give you two love birds some privacy.” He teases, playfully, before leaving once more.

Because there he is. Eddie. Your Eddie. And it’s like he knows how his presence is soothing, since all of the sudden he’s giving you the sweetest dimpled smile. Although right behind that smile, are glistening tears shying away, his sigh is alleviating, pure, and savors the most comforting wave of peace he had felt in a while.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie’s sweet voice echoes around the room. You mirror his smile, mesmerized and loving the way he rests his head on the pillows that support his back, half sat on the bed and waiting for you. It’s like a beautiful fraile mirage you wish you could encapsulate and keep forever. “C’mere.”

There’s no need to ask twice, of course. You find yourself running to his warm welcoming arms, just like a little girl. His embrace is heavenly, comforting. And it triggers some tears that you don’t even need to fight back.

You wonder if there’s a possibility to stay like this for all eternity. Because right there, when he’s rocking your body tenderly back and forth and peppering kisses on your temple while sniffling sorrowful tears away, you feel more loved than you’d ever felt before.

It’s an embrace that reveals more adoration than words possibly ever can. His hands, always lenient, slither sweet little nothings to the skin of your back. Eddie eagers his brain to understand that you are there, and that you are real. Feeling you is the only proof that it is not a dream.

Encouraging to pull you in closer, his calloused hand guides your face near the crook of his neck. You hide there, a pool of prickled and bittersweet tears wetting his skin.

“Yeah, I missed you too sweetheart.” Eddie understands you, and he knows you. There aren’t any words needed to acknowledge that you’re hurt. anguished. It’s a well known feeling, because so is he.

What brings him comfort is the soft warmth of your body against his. He longs for his own heat to proffer some solace to you. And if it doesn’t, maybe repeating the words he says with such fondness, does. “I missed you too.”

“What happened down there?” Your voice is numb. It’s difficult to not contemplate his painful state.

His abdomen is covered in bandages, and his face still carries some traces of blood and dirt. But either way he lolls his head towards yours, making you understand that it is okay. It’s endearing to feel you close, and so incredibly intimate.

“I thought I had lost you for good” You say through the echo of a whisper.

“Well, only the good die young, y’know.” Your laugh is delightful and pleasant, but it’s honest too. Because with that simple yet endearing phrase, so typical of Eddie’s, he awards your heart with hope. “I’m fine babe. We’re fine, I promise.”

“Don’t you dare leave me again, Edward Munson” You yelp through loving strokes that caress his brown and frizzy locks.

His ringless hands cups your cheeks, and it almost makes you purr out of love. Big brown puppy eyes glimmering in a unique yet beautiful way.

“Edward?” He snorts, cringing at his own name. “Well, either me nor Edward, would even dare to leave you. Although it fascinates me that I just crawled back from Mordor and that’s all you can say to me.” You’re thankful for what he says, and very much understand what he means.

“Kiss?” You ask. The corners of your lips lifting towards your eyes, an innocent and playful smile.

And right there, he could swear by just the sight of it, that it works like a magic spell over his wounds.

His lips pucker slightly, and you giggle a soft peck over his poor busted lip. He tastes like medicine, it dissolves quickly into your mouth. “Hmm, much better.” He coos. Arms pulling you in closer once more. You melt under his touch.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He mumbles, gifting gentle strokes to your skin. His heartbeat is strong against your eardrum.

“What are we going to do? Whole Hawkins is rooting for you to get caught.” He grins at your worries. Not because he likes to see you suffer with overthinking, but because you’re caring about him enough to ask about his future well-being.

“We’ll figure it out later, m’kay? Right now I just wanna feel you close for a little while longer.” His whisper eases your concerns.

To pepper soft kisses on your head might be his newest favorite thing ever.

What he hears then is the dim sound of your friends voices through the window, birds whistling faintly in the woods, and your gentle breath. His heart is at ease, now that he has you by his side. It was the missing piece of the puzzle.

“I promised I would come back to my girl, and I did.”

“I love you.” Your faint voice fills the void of the room. The sound of Eddie’s melodic laugh joins too.

“Don’t get too cliché.” He’s kidding. Of course he is, and you know it. Even after slapping his shoulder gently. “You know that I love you more than anything in this world.” As for one thing he knows it is true;

For you, he is willing to travel oceans of time and crawl up the burning walls of hell, just to see your eyes and touch your lips, one more time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#eddie munson #eddie imagine #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson smut #hellfire club #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #vol 2 stranger things

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crappymixtape · 2 months

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crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿 FIND THE REST OF MY FIC RECS HERE -> IN THE TAGS EVERY MONTH

♥️ honey, baby, love you, be home soon – @atinylittlepain ( oh dear god, this is going to be the sweetest, softest shit i stg, dad!steve harrington and the best oc to ever exist on the planet – i cannot wait • steve harrington x f!oc, fluff, tbd )

♥️ girl boy masterlist +18 – @atinylittlepain ( masterlist for the above series ft. steve harrington and andy – a series of fics about a boy falling hard for a girl • steve harrington x f!oc, fluff, smut )

♥️ i guess it’s never really over +18 – @loveshotzz ( a broken down car, a party at reefer rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off • mechanic!steve harrington x reader, exes to lovers )

♥️ his hands +18 – @loveshotzz ( thinking about Steve flirting with you at a party by comparing hand sizes • steve harrington x reader )

♥️ orange juice +18 – @sattlersquarry ( yes, i’m rec’ing this one again because fhdjkalfhsjka it’s so fucking perfect – steve's world changes in the worst way when he loses you. he struggles to move on...but he learns he might not have to when he miraculously gets a second chance with you • steve harrington x reader, TWs, hurt / comfort )

♥️ freaks come out at night masterlist +18 – @superblysubpar ( an AU with stories exploring the messy relationship your boyfriend, eddie munson, and you invite steve harrington to be a part of • boyfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader x steve harrington )

♥️ shit, i don’t think i hate you anymore – @lovebugism ( your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can’t stand • enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, eddie munson x reader )

♥️ maybe this year +18 – @supernovafics ( in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group • bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader )

♥️ your first kiss – @bruisedboys ( celebration request for ‘was that your first kiss’ with steve harrington and god this is just jfkda;fhjksa • steve harrington x f!reader )

♥️ like it’s love series +18 – @upsidedownwithsteve ( Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him • steve harrington x f!reader, soulmate au )

♥️ physical touch valentine’s event +18 – @upsidedownwithsteve ( love languages with steve and while the sex is good, it’s everything afterwards that makes you so soft for him • steve harrington x reader, fluff, smut )

♥️ that dark blue polo – @stevebabey ( finding steve so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it • steve harrington x shy!reader )

♥️ let’s go home – @xspeter ( the softest little blurb of all time omg, crying, just you asking stevie to go home after you survived the upside down • steve harrington x reader )

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athena-writes-i-guess · 2 years

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “I love you.” “I know.”

“Baaaabe.” You heard Eddie moan from his bedroom. You sighed slightly and turned the heat down on the soup you were heating on the stove before making your way into his room. You leaned against the doorframe as you looked at your boyfriend from his spot in the bed. He was laying with all the pillows and blankets he could find(and a few he made you bring from your house too) and was completely bundled up. He was sick with a really bad cold and you had offered to come over and help take care of him. You just weren’t expecting him to be so demanding about it.

“What do you need, Eddie?” You sighed, he had been calling you back here every few minutes since you got here an hour ago.

“I’m lonely.” He pouted, jutting his bottom lip out for emphasis, his voice strained from being congested.

“Lonely? How could you possibly be lonely? I’ve been in here every 5 minutes.” You said slightly exasperated.

“But you don’t staaay.” He whined. You smirked at that, who knew the scary metalhead “freak” of Hawkins was such a baby when he was sick? Not you, that’s for sure.

“How can I stay if you keep sending me to get you stuff?” You shot back, not able to keep away the amused tone from your voice.

Eddie thought about that for a moment, obviously the sickness was not making him think as clearly as he wanted. “I don’t know, but you need to do both.” He said with a grin, obviously playing around.

“Well how about I finish making you the soup you asked me for and we can snuggle a little while you eat? I can even play with your hair like you like. Okay, you big baby?” You offered, rolling your eyes. You saw his tired expression brighten slightly at the suggestion.

“Okay! Thank you.” He responded, coughing slightly from the excitement. You turned to walk away before Eddie stopped you. “And baby? I love you.”

You smiled at him, the sweetest smile you could put on, before, “I know.” You laughed as you walked out of the room and down the hall.

“Baby!” Eddie exclaimed loudly, coughing again. “You have to say it back!” He yelled as loud as he could at you, voice raspy. Only your amused laughter (bordering on a cackle) was your response.

You walked back in a few minutes later to a very pouty boyfriend, you walked over to him and passed him the soup before getting in the bed next to him. “Eat up, baby. It’ll help you get better.”

“Not until you say it.” He said petulantly. You laughed lightly and ran your hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp at you did. You didn’t miss the small content flutter of his eyelids at your motions, smiling softly to yourself.

“I love you too, pretty boy.” You said adoringly. “Even when you are a pain in my ass.”

Eddie beamed at you, “Good, ’cause I plan on being a pain in your ass until one of us dies. So get used to it.” You laughed loudly at that, not missing the butterflies you felt. You couldn’t wait for forever with this wonderfully ridiculous man. “Honestly, I could have died and the last thing you said to me was ‘I know’ when I told you I loved you? Who do you think you are? Han Solo?”

Masterlist

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sailing-through-hawkins · 8 months

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✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: fluffy and humor! also eddie being roommates with stobin ✧ @steddiemicrofic (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

It’s a lazy Saturday and Eddie has never loved waking up late more than this moment.

Sunlight filters through the bedroom window, shining directly onto the expanse of Steve’s back like a beacon, highlighting every mole and scar and muscle in golden light. He sleeps on his stomach, because he’s a weirdo, with his arms crossed under his pillow. His face is right in front of Eddie, who smiles when those pretty lashes flutter.

“Mm?”

“Morning, baby.” Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead, fireworks lighting up his chest when Steve blinks his bleary eyes open and smiles the sleepiest, sweetest little thing.

“Mornin’,” he yawns and even the ever-invasive morning breath can’t keep Eddie from enjoying the moment. “Breakfast?”

By the time they get downstairs, Robin’s already up and scribbling away on the kitchen table, the lid of a pen being crushed between her teeth. She gives them a wave without even glancing up from her papers and Eddie snorts when he realizes there are at least three pens, all with their lids off, stuck in her hair bun.

Steve looks over at him from the coffee machine and gives him a small smile, setting off even more fireworks that fizzle at the tips of his fingers. He reaches out, he doesn’t know (or even care) for what, and settles a hand on that small spot on Steve’s back, right where his tailbone is. It’s funny that people have tailbones when they don’t have tails. If Eddie had a tail, he could - he could do all sorts of things, couldn’t he?

Humming, Eddie strokes his hand up Steve’s back, smirking when he shivers but still stares at the coffee machine, his cheeks turning a pretty pink. With a tail, Eddie muses as he reaches the nape of Steve’s neck and rubs circles at the warm skin, there’d be even more to touch, right? He could wrap it around Steve’s ankle, slither it up Steve’s leg, brush up against his thighs and keep them apart until -

"Hands off, that's soulmate-only privileges."

Eddie blinks at the firm grasp his wrist is caught in. Robin is holding his hand away from Steve’s head with a glare. Damn, she has a strong grip, Eddie can’t even wriggle his hand at all. “What privilege?”

“Steve’s hair.” She says and lets go as Steve shuffles away towards the stove top, his coffee mug full and steaming.

Wait, what?

Eddie scoffs. "Uh, I'm his boyfriend? I totally get to touch Steve’s hair."

"Oh I'm sorry,” Robin gasps, her eyes wide and her tone sickly-sweet. “Did I stutter? Did I fucking say boyfriend privileges?"

“I – what?! I totally get boyfriend privileges, I get to touch his hair!” Eddie sputters, looking over to Steve as he starts cracking two eggs with one hand (damn that man for his ability to do anything and make Eddie wanna kiss the life out of him) into a frying pan. “Right, Stevie?”

His boyfriend, sun to his moon, light of his fucking life, shrugs and gives a sleepy, "It's her good luck charm."

Robin walks backwards and leans against Steve, pointedly ruffling his hair. "Exactly. It’s finals week and you will not blow this for me, Munson.”

Eddie throws his hands up. “Guess I’ll just suffer then!”

#steddie #writing #microfic #steddiemicrofic #sailor✧writes #what's this?? a prompt that could easily be turned into a fantasy or horror story?? and sails DIDN'T do that????#i know i'm shocked too #this one was the first thing that came to my head though so i wrote it out before i could lose the spark #this is also possibly one of the sappiest pieces of writing i've done and i'm pleased with that #this was gonna be rated G and then eddie got thirsty thoughts and i was like 'god damn it'#even when i'm not writing monsters i'm still writing monster thoughts apparently

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

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Hi my sweetest Luna love 🌙. I saw you put a call out for dad!Eddie ideas/requests. I’ve got one I’d like to propose.

In episode 8, Eddie says, “when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.”

I feel like this would weigh heavily on Eddie when he becomes a dad, and he would want to be a good role model for his son. But, Eddie realizes he still doesn’t know about those hobbies so he enlists Wayne’s help. Cue the three generations of Munson men having cute bonding moments. :)

Gone Fishing: The Munson Men…

part two of my little mini series wherein you’re married to eddie, have a son named james, and now a daughter named quinn. features a whole lot of wayne as well. you don’t have to read part one to understand this one, but it’ll likely give some insight into background information. warnings: mentions of childbirth; newborn situations; worms being used as bait.

dad!eddie munson x afab!mom!reader. (4.2k words)

People say that the jump from one child to two isn’t that chaotic. That once you’re used to parenting, it becomes an extension of a normal routine.

Those people, Eddie decides, are also called liars.

He loves Quinn.

He loves his infant daughter more than words can even begin to express; hell, he cried in the hospital room like a baby himself when the doctor shouted, “It’s a girl!” and finally answered all the months of questioning who the little one growing inside your belly had been.

But, just as James had as a baby, Quinn quickly takes up both your time.

Nights of sleep become a thing of the past, and he’s quickly reminded of what the newborn stage, however wonderful, looks like. Routines shift and become endless midnight diaper changes to give you time to rest, turning over to tap your shoulder and wake you to swap shifts so you can feed her. As you lay her against your chest, he heads down to the kitchen and tries to clean up the messes from all the times she’s woken before that.

So it comes as no surprise the way James begins to grow a little frustrated with the whole ordeal. No longer the littlest Munson in the family, he’s taken up a habit of doing things out of line to garner Eddie’s and your attention.

The first week Quinn is earth side, he pitches a fit because she’s simply a girl (and he’d begged his mom and dad for a brother). He asks Eddie to “send her back to the stork.” Steve and Nancy reassure you both that it’s normal; however, they don’t warn or prepare you for the angry whining from your son when he asks to show either of you something in the middle of tending to his baby sister. Nor do they warn you that four year olds are inclined to have tantrums if either of you ask him to “wait just a minute” when he really doesn’t want to be patient at all.

So while Quinn cries, James cries, and then you cry (sleep is an elusive thing these days, so he never faults you for the changing tides of your wavering emotions)—and Eddie knows he needs to do something.

And soon.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” he asks as he enters the room.

He drops down onto the bed where you’re presently sitting against a mountain of pillows with his three week old in arm. You offer him a tired smile as he leans down to kiss Quinn’s head of dark hair.

Another very Munson looking baby, if he does say so himself.

“We’ll be fine,” you promise, sighing when his forehead rests against yours, his nose running along yours affectionately. “She’ll probably sleep most of the time you’re gone anyway. Have fun. And say hi to Wayne for me. Tell him to come by soon.”

Eddie groans, sliding down onto his stomach to marvel at his newborn daughter. Ringed fingers reach out to touch her, thumb swiping down her chubby cheek. The baby stirs within her swaddle, bleary eyes sleepily searching about for her parents.

“I just hate leaving her. What if she grows up while I’m gone? Gets her first job and goes off to college? A first boyfriend that I’ll have to murder and you’ll have to be my alibi for?”

He pouts, earning a laugh out of you for his still-present dramatic flair that’s as much a part of his DNA as the love he holds in his heart for his growing family.

Eddie watches those dark eyes as they flutter open once more and take in her father’s face, lip curling upward at the way her lips part very slightly, her tiny grunts warming him from the inside out.

“Hey, Quinnie. Daddy loves you.”

“She’s going to be just fine, and she’ll still be just as cute and little as you left her. But yes, I will be your accomplice when the time comes,” you reassure him, stroking a hand down the back of his head. He leans into the comfort, sliding his hand over yours. “Go—have fun with James and Wayne. It’s his special day, after all.”

Which is true.

Being that most of your time is spent feeding a newborn around the clock and trying to work around her inconsistent sleeping schedule, you're struggling to spend all the time you want with James.

Eddie had held you in the kitchen a few nights ago after dinner, an arm curled around your shoulders to keep you close as you sniffled against his neck, worrying you weren’t a good mother. He knew it was the hormones talking, but it ripped his heart down the middle even hearing you question how wonderful you’d been to his son and him since you’d begun dating shortly after he’d graduated high school.

“You’re taking care of a newborn,” he’d said, quieting your tears with two palms against your cheeks, and the gentle brush of his lips across every possible inch of your face. “You’re a kickass mother. The best wife—hottest too. I mean, shit, baby—”

“Eds.”

You buried your face in his chest, snorting at his compliment.

“It’s true. Can’t believe I fooled you into dating me and now having kids with me.” Your balled up fist nudged against his abdomen, earning a laugh from deep within his chest. “Quinnie is so tiny now. It’ll get easier. But I have an idea; how about I take Jim Jam for a little outing? We’ll spend time with his Pop Pop and we’ll do…Munson men things.”

Which brings him back to his current situation: lifting Quinn out of your arms to press parting kiss after parting kiss to her curly head of dark hair until her little face scrunches around her binky.

Eddie hushes her back to sleep and you nearly have to pry her out of his greedy fingers to get him to hand her back over. He watches you grin widely, inhaling her new baby smell you’re both addicted to when she’s back against your chest and nuzzling her downy forehead lovingly.

Quinn Leigh Munson has stolen his heart and he doesn’t particularly care who knows it.

With his daughter back in the cradle of your arms, Eddie leans down to brush one last kiss against your lips and Quinn’s plush cheek before calling James into the bedroom.

In scampers the four-year-old a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, his too-big rain boots scrunching with every step.

“Ready to hit the road, Jim Jam?” Eddie asks, ruffling his son’s dark curls. “Say bye to Mom and Quinnie.”

With a little help from Eddie, James crawls across the bed and presses a kiss to your cheek. You giggle airily as he curls himself around your body, close as he possibly can be, just like Eddie tends to when it’s the two of you alone at night.

“Bye, Mommy.”

The words are a smush of his face against your collarbone and forehead into your neck, one hand resting on your opposite shoulder. All wriggling movements and flailing arms that jostle the baby.

Quinn stirs within your arms, little whimpering cries beckoning James to attention as you kiss him fleetingly on the top of his head.

He’s already leaning down close to her face, a pout firmly against his full lips. “Quinnie, why are you always crying? Ugh—”

“James,” Eddie warns, catching the furrowed brow on his son’s forehead. Your eyes flicker upward, amusement bubbling despite the four-year-old’s growing annoyance. “She’s a baby. You cried a lot when you were her age too.”

“Fine,” he says with a huff.

The boy presses a kiss to his sister’s wrinkly brow and clambers back off the bed. There’s a squelch of boots on the carpet before he’s thumping into Eddie’s left hip, an arm curling around his father’s thigh to hold tight.

James’ head tips back, eyes looking into his father’s. “Can we go see Pop Pop now?”

“Yeah, buddy, we can go see Pop Pop.” Eddie takes you in once more where you sit. Tired as you are, his heart clenches violently, both because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met and the love of his life. You lean over to snatch Quinn’s bottle from the bedside table to start another feeding. “We’ll see you later. Love you.”

“Love you boys. Take a ton of pictures. Jim Jam, make sure to catch me a big fish.”

“I’ll catch you the biggest fish!” He jumps up and down excitedly, head bumping against the one Eddie has left to rest against his son’s curls. “Love you, Mommy.”

Lover’s Lake remains untouched by the world that evening.

Most are likely at work for the evening, while students, now on summer break, mill about the arcade, that popular new roller rink in town, and the ice cream shops in the shopping square.

Eddie had taken the afternoon off—had been doing so pretty often when possible at the shop to help care for the new baby—to make sure he’d be able to give James his full attention.

The little boy in question practically launches himself out of the car when Eddie unbuckles him from his car seat, glowing at the prospect of fishing with his dad and Pop Pop, a wide smile sliding across pink lips.

At Eddie’s soft utterance of “One second, buddy,” he curls his arms loosely around Eddie’s neck so his father can draw him up against hip. The door slams shut behind him to reveal Wayne standing in the distance against his car, fishing supplies resting on the ground near his feet.

James’ hand curls into Eddie’s curly hair resting against his shoulder, eyes bright as he asks, “Can I go say hi to Pop Pop?”

Eddie nods and helps him to the ground. Grins widely as the boy takes off in a burst of energy, little legs kicking under him, arms flailing at his sides before Wayne reaches down to grab him and hike him upward into his solid chest.

James’ lyrical laughter trails up the hill as Eddie makes his way over, the lunch bag that you prepared for them bouncing against his side with every footfall—another reminder of all the ways his life has changed since you walked into it nearing six years ago now.

He remembers fond moments of sitting at this very lake with the back doors of his van spread wide, you on your back, with your skin still smelling of sunblock, looking up at him like he was the only person in the world. He remembers your fingers trailing along his skin and endless cherry chapstick kisses, whispers of love like gentle caresses long after the day turned into night, and promises of forever echoing behind both your rib cages.

Now you’re married with two children, he’s just as in love if not more so now, and the lake that had been your private sanctuary away from the rest of Hawkins is the place he’ll make new memories with your son.

The same little boy, hewn together by your love.

The same little boy with your eyes, his father’s curls, joy and love in his heart, and laughter that makes Eddie wonder how he ever got so lucky.

You chose him, you still choose him every day, and what a lovely thing it was to be so wholly loved and accepted.

It’s funny, Eddie thinks, that he’s never really thought about what normal things fathers and sons share together. His own hadn’t been the greatest of examples, reaching him to hotwire a car without ever teaching him how to swim or ride a bike.

And he supposes that’s been his trepidation all along about raising a son. Four years in and he still doubts himself—still questions that you’ve given him not one, but two babies to guide through life. But it’s in those moments he remembers his Uncle’s care.

The way the man now outfitting his son in a too-big fishing hat and vest shows the same kindness he instilled in him when he’d arrived on his doorstep and moved to Hawkins.

His silent reverie is broken up by James’ laughter. A high peal that breaks through the silence of Lover’s Lake. Eyes drawing upward, he catches the little boy in his bright yellow boots raising a wriggling worm to eye-level, beaming from ear to ear.

“Daddy! Look—a worm!” He’s so proud of himself, peering into the bucket beside Wayne’s tackle box, reaching down to grab another and extending it to his father. “I got one for you!”

Eddie chuckles, joining his grinning Uncle’s side as he settles their tools down on the dock. “Buddy, your mom is going to kill me. There’s dirt under your nails already.”

“I’ll wash real good, don’t worry,” he says brightly, padding over to Wayne. “Pop Pop, what do we do now?”

“Well, now we hook the worm and cast our lines.”

“The worms? But they’re my friends.” James pouts, like he can’t fathom using them as bait, and before his bottom lip can start to wobble, Eddie’s dropping down to kneel in front of him.

“So…you know how Goldy back home eats those little flakes?” he asks, speaking of the goldfish Eddie had won for his son at the Fourth of July fair.

James nods, eyes watering. He sniffles. “Yeah. His gill food.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, his gill food. The fish in the lake need that food too. But they need bigger food.”

“So the worms?” he asks sadly. At Eddie’s slow nod he continues, “Can I keep one?”

“Maybe,” Eddie concedes, and that’s enough to have the little boy resuming his spot at Pop Pop’s side, peering over the edge of the dock.

“Pop Pop?” James’ voice raises over the silence. Over the sounds of water lapping against the dock, the sounds of cicadas in the distance, the gentle chatter of birdsong.

Eddie turns to watch as his son leans into Wayne’s shoulder, gentle smile blooming along that sweet little face. Wayne cranes his neck downward, palm curling around the boy’s shoulder. “What’s it, Jim Jam?”

“What do we do now?” he asks, hands holding aloft that too-big fishing rod for his four-year-old body.

Eddie glances down at his own hands, where his own rod is resting within, turning his wedding ring round and around his finger. When his Uncle speaks once more, his head raises in piqued interest. “Well…now we wait. There’s this sayin’.”

“What’s the saying?” James asks.

“Good things come to those that wait,” Wayne says softly, brushing a thumb along James’ cheek, grinning when the little boy giggles gleefully.

“Daddy?” Eddie’s head jerks upward at the title, fondness bubbling up when his son places his fishing rod down on the dock and walks over to his father’s side. Thumps down onto the wood below to lean into Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie welcomes him. Opens his arm enough for the little one to clamber into his lap, head over his father’s heart, palm curling into his ratty old Metallica tee. “What’s Pop Pop’s saying mean?”

“Well…” Eddie glances over his son’s head to look at his Uncle. Takes in his weathered features, the upturn of his lips, that comforting smile that has the tension roiling in his gut easing. “Remember when your Mommy said Quinnie was in her belly and you were so excited.”

“Yeah!” He giggles when Eddie’s fingers slide down to tickle his ribs, his father’s arms winding tighter around his smaller form.

“Remember how it took a long long long time before Quinn came?” Eddie asks, grinning softly when James dips his head. “And remember how it was so worth it, because now our family is even bigger? Well—fishing is like that. You have to wait until a fish is ready, but when it is…it’s worth it.”

“Oh…” His son dips his head once more. Those round eyes meet his father’s once more. “Daddy, can I have juice now?”

Conversation over, he supposes. About right for James’ attention span. Eddie laughs, heart warming at the fleeting nature of a four year old mind. Reaches into the cooler sitting near his hip on the dock to pull out a juice box. His fingers work swiftly to open the plastic wrapper, slipping the straw into the top before handing it to the boy. “Always, buddy.”

–

“You’re doin’ a good job, son. I know you don’t always feel like it, but ya are. And I'm proud of ya.”

Eddie doesn’t expect those words. Doesn’t know what to do with them really. For years his own father regarded him as little. Never cared for his hobbies, likes, interests. Barely paid attention to him most days. And then he’d up and left. Packed up his stuff and walked away from his wife, his son, the life he once knew. Made Eddie wonder if love was this abstract thing. Made him wonder if he deserved it at all.

Then, his mother had passed and he’d been sent to live with Wayne in this home that didn’t really feel like home. He’d taken him under his wing and loved him as best as he could. Showed him patience and love when Eddie had only known dismissiveness and passivity.

And then he’d met you. You with your bright smiles and that endless well of affection. He’d shied away from it at first. Pretended it meant nothing; tucked you away in his mind and pursued you under the guise of friendship. But you’d coaxed him out of the shadows into the light, tended to him and waited as he opened his heart to you, just as Wayne had, and made him question if he’d been wrong all along.

Maybe love wasn’t this abstract thing. Maybe it was something all were entitled to. Something all were deserving of. And that love had grown, had grown into two little souls that shared his heart. Two little souls made up of half his DNA. Two souls who looked to him for guidance, for affection, for a firm foundation to stand on.

He didn’t want to mess it up for his own kids. Wanted them to know every day how much he loved them, how he’d do anything for them, how he’d love his family in the way he’d never known growing up.

“You’re goin’ a good job,” Wayne reiterates, curling a palm around his nephew’s shoulder.

Draws him back to his present reality. In the distance, James talks to his new worm friends still wriggling around in the bucket Wayne had brought along. Promises he’ll take them home and his mom will take care of them. Eddie has yet to remind his son that he and his worm friends will have to part at the end of the day. Instead, he turns to his uncle and smiles, chest blooming with something foreign. An emotion that wells behind his eyes—fills his throat with a tightness he can’t seem to swallow around.

He clears his throat, brushing at his eyes. “I’m trying.”

“That boy loves you, son,” Wayne says, glancing out toward where James is now holding aloft one of his new friends. His head of curly dark hair tips to the side, mouth moving rapidly, likely telling a story like his own father does for him every night before bed. “Hell, I think half of parentin’ is figurin’ things out on the way. I mean, I didn’t know what I was doin’ with you and now here you are. A fine mechanic and a manager at the shop at that, a husband, and a damn good father. To not one, but two babies now. Your Momma would be so happy if she could see you now.”

Eddie glances back over to his son with tears swimming in his eyes. Watches that head of curly hair turn his way. The way his son’s lips curl upward at the sight of him, like he can’t contain the happiness of merely seeing his own father. And Eddie smiles back. Waves as his heart clenches within his chest. Because inside that little boy beats part of his own heart, and anyone can see from looking at James that he’s thriving.

That he’s happy and loved.

And Eddie knows, without a doubt, that he’s doing a damn good job.

You’re in the kitchen when Eddie returns. Little Quinn is resting in a sling against your chest as you work to put away newly cleaned dishes while a pot of noodles cook on the stovetop.

Eddie’s shouting he’s home as James rushes into the house, cooler thumping against his shorter thighs. Nearly smacks into your legs just as you hoist him up onto your free hip, somehow managing to not wake the baby in the process.

“Mommy, I caught the biggest fish!” He announces proudly, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. “And when Quinnie is big enough, I’m gonna teach her how to catch one too!”

He swoops down to kiss his baby sister. Tells her he loves her against the soft curls at her forehead.

Eddie laughs brightly, sauntering into the kitchen to lean against the counter nearest you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Drops down lower to kiss Quinn’s head of dark hair. She stirs in the wrap, little noises of contentment filling the air, before she settles back down in her sleep.

“Did you, Jim Jam?” You ask him, eyes wide in your curiosity.

“Yes! And daddy helped. He had to fight the fish. But he won!”

Your eyes dart to Eddie’s, bouncing James higher up onto your hip. “Is that so?”

Eddie’s fingers card through James’ hair, lips pressing against his son’s temple. “I helped him reel it in.”

Your mouth drops open in overly dramatized shock, and James’ eyes light up before the both of you. Eddie swears right then and there he wants another baby (but he’ll ask you later, when Quinn’s not attached to you for feedings every two hours).

“Well…can I see this monstrous fish that the two of you had to fight to bring home?”

And there, in the little cooler, resides the smallest fish you’ve likely ever seen.

But damn, if Eddie’s not happier than he’s ever been in his life.

That feeling bleeds over into the evening. He rides that lovely peak until James and Quinn are finally put to bed, the house silent at last, save for the sound of your quiet breathing beside him in your bed.

“I love you, you know?” He says softly, brushing his hand over the curve of your waist.

Your hips shift backward against his, and he curls his other arm tighter around your form. Draws you nearer. “I love you, too. I’m happy you all had fun today.”

“Can you look at me for a second?” His voice is quiet. Shaky. You roll over at the broken timbre of his voice, hands coming up to thumb along both of his cheeks. At the brush of your lips against his, he continues, “Thank you.”

“For what, honey?”

He drops his forehead into yours. Inhales shakily. “I don’t know. Loving me. Giving me this family. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, but I’m grateful you picked me to do it with.”

“Eddie…” You wrap your arms tight around him. Hold his head against your chest where he focuses on the calming beat of your heart inside. “You’re a wonderful husband, an amazing son, and an incredible father. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You punctuate each word with a kiss against his crown, fingers brushing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“We are so lucky to have you.”

And he smiles. Truly and honestly smiles against your chest, palms splaying over your hips, holding you close.

Because maybe he’s not perfect. Maybe neither of you are. You’re learning together what it means to parent as you navigate this new and unfamiliar territory—as both your babies grow and change and learn. But you’re doing it together and will be forever.

It brings him peace.

And later, when Quinn wakes with a shrill cry, and Eddie pulls her writhing body against his chest to try and soothe her with kisses to her brow, he recalls a conversation he had with Wayne earlier that evening.

“I just have one question?”

“Yeah?”

“What do I do with my daughter when she grows up? She’s so little now. But shit—a girl?”

There’s a pause. “How’s your aim?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, stirring from where you lay in bed, still tired from Quinn’s earlier feeding.

“Go back to sleep. I've got her.” Eddie draws her into the crook of his elbow, resting her against his chest. She wrinkles her features in another weaker cry, fists shaking in her anger as he rocks her gently. Soon enough the wailing subsides. Those tired eyes of her open to briefly take in her father’s face before shutting once more, mouth working over the bottle he slips into her parted lips, sighing happily into his skin. “Isn’t that right, Quinnie? Daddy’s always got you.”

#eddie munson fanfiction #lunaloveseddie #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff

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thevestigeofvanillaan · 1 year

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Headcanons about sex, kinks, sexual shit in general with the boys! (Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson)

Steve Harrington:

He is such a sweetheart in bed. Like he's always asking for consent to do anything and everything.

"Is this okay, baby?" "Can I hold your head while you suck my cock?" "Are you ready?" "You can take a break if you want, I know it's tiring baby."

The first time you guys had sex, you weren't even friends. In fact, you guys were probably enemies and the first time you did it was probably just hate sex.

"I guess you're not so bad after all."

And that's when you started dating King Steve who became the sweetest little thing in the sheets.

He loves eating you out. He just loves pleasing you and he won't cum until you have twice.

He isn't really kinky at all. He likes it vanilla, never taboo.

Sometimes you guys try new and different sex positions but they almost never stick.

He loves basic cowgirl and missionary. He loves to see your face when you take his cock.

Quickies are always the best with Steve. And he is willing to please you any time, anywhere so long as you ask him to.

He is pretty vocal. And he let's out these pretty, slutty boy moans (he's definitely a switch but you'd barely ever hear a groan from him, almost always slutty boy moans).

He's a tits guy. He loves your boobies!

He fondles with them all the time. He sleeps either with one in his hand, or with his head on top of them.

"Baby, you got the nicest pair of boobies I've ever seen, you know that?"

Again, before you guys dated and you lowkey hated eachother, he would stare at your tits all the time because he knew it made you uncomfortable and because he actually did really like them...

He loves kissing and marking you.

Kissing you is his favorite thing to do. He kisses you majority of the time as you guys fuck. Every time you guys kiss, it feels like it's his first time all over again.

He craves your kisses so much. And he loves covering your neck and especially your tits with hickeys. "Gotta let everyone know who you belong to, huh?" "Who do you belong to, baby? All me. You're all mine now that I've got you all marked up."

Billy Hargrove:

Controversial opinion, but he would rather praise than degrade you. LISTEN. He is not a degrader. He loves his prettygirl.

I love the idea of Billy being so big on praise.

"Fuck prettygirl, doin' so good for me." "Baby, you take my cock so good." "You're my pretty little girl, right? Oh come on baby,, tell me how you're my pretty girl. Only mine."

After basketball practice when everyone is showering he brags about how wet, warm, and tight your pussy is and how it's waiting at home for him.

"Y'know, my prettygirl has the tightest, prettiest little wet pussy all for me." "I gotta go boys, my girl is at home with open legs waitin' for me."

He drives you everywhere, you're his pretty little passenger princess. He holds your plump thigh, inching closer to feel the heat radiating from your warm cunt.

There have been many occasions when you would go to parties wearing no underwear under that tight little dress of yours. And your pretty boyfriend wouldn't be wearing any either.

You guys basically compete to see who can last longer before going to the bathroom to fuck eachother. And you always lose when you see him adjusting his dick in his pants.

In reality he's doing that so people don't see the large erection in his jeans. And because his balls stick to his thighs so either way!

He loves doggystyle. Loves watching your skin ripple when his skin hits the curve of your ass. Plus he likes to spank you as he fucks you.

Which is a reason he likes cowgirl and backwards cowgirl. He can spank you in either of those too.

He's an ass guy. And a thigh guy.

But his favorite thing ever, if I'm being honest is when you cockwarm him. Whether its with that warm cunt of yours or your pretty lips around his cock he's happy.

He'll be doing work and have you just sit on his cock as he does it. "Don't move." "Stop squirming, pretty."

Eddie Munson:

Let's be honest here.. this man is kinky.

He's willing to try anything and everything you ask. Doesn't matter what it is, piss kink, daddy kink, mommy kink, rape kink, roleplay.. I mean every fucking thing babes.

Incase it ever gets too violent or you feel uncomfortable (which isn't often because eddie knows how to take care of you) you have a safe word. "Kit." Because who says kit out of nowhere when you're getting fucked.

And when you're tied up you have a button in your hand that you press and it'll make a noise, letting him know you want to stop.

When you can't talk/when you his cock in your mouth you tap his thigh twice, letting him know you need to breathe.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry baby, I didn't mean it." "Honey.." He would whine, feeling so ashamed that you had to use the safe key. But you always reassure him that he did nothing wrong.

And he's so good at all of it too. You don't quite get how the fuck he's able to just do whatever you ask him to, but you love it.

You guys share an onlyfans and post different recommended positions, kinks, and situations. And trust me, you guys get so much money off having brutal sex all the time.

I mean hey, it's better than working a shitty 9-5 with minimum wage..

Plus exhibitionism is fun anyways. One of his favorite kinks actually.

"You guys love getting off to watching us have sex, don't you? Dirty bastards." "Watch me pump my cock? Hah, you're gonna have to pay more for that, sweetheart." "Fuck her.. uh, no. Why should you horny bastards tell me what to do?"

He honestly just bribes your audience for money saying shit like "if someone pays 5,000 I'll do top rec." And everyone feeds into that shit donating thousands of dollars to watch you guys on stream.

Sex off camera is the same as it is on.. just people aren't watching obviously. Unless of course he chooses to fuck you in front of the window that he often fucks you in front of anyways.

"Hey, what do you wanna try now?" "Wanna try something new, hun? I heard this cool.."

He's really sweet and will do whatever you want him to!

#stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #i love them so much.

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fhrlclln · 2 years

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eddie munson’s masterlist

༊*·˚ main masterlist

**, nsfw/smut

: ̗̀➛ personal fave

ONE SHOTS

hellfire club** : ̗̀➛

SUMMARY : mike and dustin are begging for you to play as a stand-in for DnD at their club tonight. you accept, not wanting to watch the championship. yet, who knew arriving early and meeting hellfire’s infamous club president would ensue one hella of a night for you as well, hm?

i’m here

SUMMARY : you’re worried and scared searching for your missing boyfriend, eddie munson.

starboy**

SUMMARY : you’ve been feeling burnt out lately but eddie has the solution to that. which he totally didn’t expect.

stuck upside-down

SUMMARY : who knew being chased by demo bats, split from nancy and the group, and being almost lost in the upside down would ensue feelings being brought out.

ways to say dipshit

SUMMARY : you’re in a bad relationship with your boyfriend since middle school. wanting something to get your mind in ease you meet with hawkin high’s dealer. which changed your world entirely.

daredevil** : ̗̀➛

SUMMARY : spin the bottle truth or dare was a harmless idea for passing time inside of the hellfire club. but who knew it became much more than a game with eddie munson, hm?

it’s always you

SUMMARY : eddie broke it off with you the moment the big misunderstanding arise. tensions high, emotions completely in the air, the day the news broke out about chrissy’s death lead you to hoping your relationship with him would resolve. just with the upside down coming into play.

skull rock**

SUMMARY : eddie and you have a quiet (not so) moment together in skull rock.

come back to me

SUMMARY : the aftermath of it all.

deep dive

SUMMARY : eddie does not want you to dive in but you couldn’t let that happen.

what happens next**

SUMMARY : after escaping from the upside down in eddie’s trailer, the rest of the gang sleeps in your house after that traumatizing experience. leaving you to ponder in fear and the anxiety regarding what just happened and what could happen next. luckily, eddie’s a good & observant boyfriend.

carved memories

SUMMARY : the sweetest love will always be the sweetest pain.

bottled up

SUMMARY : hellfire’s leader has been ditching them a lot lately. confrontation ensues as well as hidden feeling are brought out and eddie is left to choose in the end.

what’s a what?** pt. 2 : ̗̀➛

SUMMARY : eddie offers to help you ease your innocent curiosity.

you’re already a hero

SUMMARY : eddie leaves you behind to save you all, but you couldn’t let that fucking happen. not on your watch.

steve’s big dream

SUMMARY : steve should’ve kept quiet knowing you and eddie are literally behind him. his fault.

dear diary

SUMMARY : dear, diary. developing a crush on your own best friend is the hardest feeling to suppress in the world especially with eddie munson. xoxo

innocent touches**

SUMMARY : in which eddie and you innocently fool around with each other in the heat of the night.

lust for life**

SUMMARY : you should’ve listened knowing that jock was no good, leaving you hanging the morning after. now here you are, concealing the fact that you still like your bestfriend eddie.

BLURBS & UNTITLED FICS

dracula! eddie**

older! mechanic! eddie** pt. 2 pt. 3

eddie finding out you have a praise kink

eddie munson with bilingual! reader

rockstar! eddie & wife! reader pt. 2

older! mechanic! eddie eating you out while on the phone w/ your parents**

older! mechanic! eddie eyefucking you while eating dinner with your parents

eddie munson x shy! reader mutual pinning + chrissy (my girl) secret wingman

rockstar! eddie x wife! reader him talking about reader in an interview about his sex life

older!mechanic! eddie phone sex**

older! mechanic! eddie where he picks you up from a party

rockstar! eddie x wife! reader buying his first mansion and fucking the reader in every room**

older! mechanic! eddie where he’s insecure about his age and the reader comforts him

older! mechanic! eddie making an excuse to see you before the hook-up

eddie munson x bilingual! reader accidentally using ‘po’ in a sentence + meet-cute

older! mechanic! eddie where reader’s dad reacts to them being together

rockstar! eddie x wife! reader where he gets jealous of his own fans

MULTI-CHAPTER

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #fnhrlcllnwrites #joseph quinn’s characters ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 🎀#eri’s favorites 💌 ∘°∘♡∘°∘

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unclejezzzy · 20 days

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The Sweetest Torture One Could Bear | Part 1 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It’s 1990. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are forced to confront their shared past and shifting dynamics under the ever changing hues of a gay club in Indianapolis. Eddie, exuding confidence and embracing his sexuality offers a helping hand to Steve who is buckling under the weight of societal pressures.

OR: Steve wants to sleep with a guy for the first time and Eddie reluctantly helps against his better judgement.

Indianapolis, 1990

Eddie leant back on his elbows against the metal topped bar of the club, eyes squinting as he delicately held the rim of his glass between his fingers.

It was a Saturday night which meant that it was nothing short of a a visual feast for the senses.

The music pulsated through his body, situating itself in his spine as he squinted out at the vast expanse of potential conquests through the smoky haze.

The multi-colored lights above bathed the adumbrate dancers in an ever-changing rainbow of hues. The walls were adorned with mirrors, reflecting the dancers and amplifying the feeling of being part of something larger than oneself. Giant video screens played music videos and club scene footage, immersing them all in a world of pure hedonism.

Of course, Eddie couldn't deny that a majority of the time the clientele were just as visually stunning as their surroundings. Dancing bodies adorned in leather, lace, and sequins were all in abundance, as per usual.

But something was different. He didn't have the usual feeling that anything was possible in there tonight.

Something was missing.

"What about that guy?" Robin asked; voice elevated so it could carry over the bass of the music as she leaned across from behind the bar on her tiptoes to point out across the room to a guy with spiky blonde hair in a tank top.

“Nah - had him already. He's boring." Eddie said cavalierly.

"Boring?" She reiterated, busying herself with wiping the rims of highball glasses with a dish towel.

"He sucked dick like he was working a nine to five." He scoffed a laugh, taking a sip of his drink.

"Okay, fine." She shrugged, neck craned as she scoured their surroundings.

"Him?"

"Nah - too - muscly." Eddie grimaced, immediately glancing away without wasting a second.

"I thought you liked that?" She asked, looking up at him beneath furrowed brows.

"I like 'em toned, like a subtle 'yeah I work out but it's not my entire personality.' I don't want someone who looks like they're the face for sports steroids advertisements." Eddie said firmly.

"God you're so picky, you're looking for a hook up not a husband." Robin clarified, rolling her eyes.

"There's just nobody new and exciting. It's the same faces, same music, same routine. It's exhausting." He said, staring out ahead of him as he kissed his lips between his teeth.

"Yeah, I forgot that getting your dick sucked could be so tedious." She said in jest as Eddie chose not to respond.

"You know, maybe you're just not as into it as you used to be. That's fine, you know. To grow up and get a life outside of hooking up with people. Maybe settle down, get a boyfriend or something."

Eddie narrowed his eyes, pretending to be in deep pensive thought.

"Nah, that doesn't sound like something I'd do." He eventually said, lips breaking out into a devilish grin as Robin glared across at him.

He allowed his eyes to glaze back over the crowds of people.

His vision fixated on a lone guy with lightly tousled brown hair leaning against the metal bars of the balcony, facing away from him. It was long, layered. Purposely messy? Eddie couldn't decide. But he loved how it curled around his neck from the length.

He was wearing camel coloured chinos and a navy blue T-shirt. Fingers tapping against his crossed arms as he continued to look out at the vastness ahead of him.

Two go-go boys dressed in nothing but tight fitting, metallic shorts and pairs of cheap angel wings that were most likely bought from a Spirit Halloween store were either side of him.

They were elevated from the floor, encased in metal caging with dollar bills hanging limp from their waistbands.

It was an ethereal sight given the circumstances. If he believed in that kind of la-di-da butterfly effect bullshit he would have assumed that the universe had placed him in his line of sight for a reason.

Eddie's eyes scanned the length of his body.

He couldn't help but admire the curvature of his ass; how it was packed so tightly into the material it almost made them look as though they were painted on with the way they hugged his hips and thighs.

"Him." He said firmly, not breaking his gaze.

"What?" Robin asked.

"Him, over there." Eddie said, clicking his fingers with an outstretched arm to draw her in to his line of sight.

"The guy in the chinos?"

"Yeah. I want him."

"You haven't even seen his face yet." She warranted.

"Don't need to. He's got an ass that goes for miles. He could be the ugliest fucker in the world for all I care. I'll just go behind, don't have to look at him." He clarified, biting down against the flesh of his lower lip.

"Here I was thinking you were shallow." She shot back, voice tainted with sarcasm as she slung the dish towel over her shoulder.

"I'm going over." He affirmed - voice low as he downed the remainder of his drink, reaching around to place the empty glass behind himself on the bar.

"Okay, have fun. Be good." Robin called out after him as he brushed down the front of his black tee.

"Never. Don't miss me too much." He shot back, teasingly as he ran his fingers through his bangs to ensure they were placed in the perfect divide between careless and purposeful.

The thing with Eddie is that he didn't get rejected. In fact, he couldn't even recall the last time he got rejected.

He read an article that stated that statistically speaking, men think about sex on average around 19 times a day. This was one of those times that Eddie was happy to be branded as above average.

Of course, these statistics were based solely on straight men. Go figure.

When Eddie wasn't having sex, he was thinking about having sex. And the second he was finished having sex with the most beautiful man who ever lived, he was thinking about the next beautiful man who ever lived that he'd meet the next night.

And luckily for this guy, he was right on his radar.

He sauntered through the throngs of people, skin prickling in anticipation as he approached him. It was almost exhilarating, reaching the apex of a desired conquest.

"Hey, had a busy night?" Eddie asked, slinking an arm around the guys waist as he whipped round to face him.

He had hoped his gaze would be met with the same inquisitive eagerness. Instead, he was met with brown forlorn eyes and furrowed brows with a sinister familiarity to them.

The chiselled jawline, the mole on the side of his neck beneath the stubble, the irate demeanour.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Eddie announced, retracting his hand with the same speed you would if you caught it on the side of a hot teakettle.

"Oh God." The other breathed out, eyes darting maniacally across his face as Eddie watched the muscles of his neck contract with a deep swallow.

"Steve?" Eddie asked, biting back a laugh as his jaw slacked in awe.

"No." He said hastily, shaking his head as he darted around at his surroundings for a quick escape.

"Oh my God, it is you. Steve Harrington. From Hawkins High." Eddie pressed as he watched him back away, hand gripping the metal of the balcony for stability.

King Steve. Hawkins High maverick, belligerent basketball captain, disciples at his heels. He sounded like a cliche.

He was a cliche.

The man was a planet who carried his own gravity.

Continue reading on AO3:

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kinghairington · 2 years

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Part of the Family [S.H.]

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, Reader & Dustin, Steve & Dustin Word Count: 2.6k Summary: Steve was a stable figure in the Henderson household as your boyfriend and your little brother’s best friend/father figure. Was it weird? Sometimes. But there was no one better suited to help you with Dustin’s trauma. Warnings/Notes: SFW. Established relationship. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Domestic/Family. Everyone has trauma. Mention of absent parents. Talk of future children. S4 spoilers. Fix-it, sort of. There are no mentions of the reader's physical features. Requested. Masterlist.

You loved the feeling of domesticity that came with pretending to share a room with Steve and the routine of it all - getting ready for bed together, the two of you crowded around the small sink in your bathroom to brush teeth and fix hair (Steve’s) and changing into pajamas that now shared space in your dresser. You had a similar routine at his house, but the Harrington household held a less cozy atmosphere and you both preferred to sleep at your house despite not really having the place to yourself.

Thankfully your mom didn’t care to ask any questions since you were both adults. Past her subtle questioning of whether you were ‘being safe’ or not and having to swear to her that Dustin would never ever witness anything inappropriate, nothing was dramatic or weird about it.

She was probably ready for the two of you to settle down together in a place of your own, and a part of you believed that was just around the corner.

Dustin, however, was more curious about the entire situation and would constantly try to interfere with the routine the two of you had created for yourselves.

He claimed it was annoying and gross that you were dating his best friend and yet he was constantly pushing to sit between you to watch a movie, tagging along on dates at your favorite diner, and asking for rides to his friends’ houses while you were on your way to see Steve.

It was annoying to you, but he was your only brother and you would always have a huge soft spot in your heart for him. Steve was the only father figure Dustin had and there was definitely a part of Steve that was working out his own issues with his father through being that for your brother, so there was a part of you that was endeared by it all.

And it was clear that Steve felt the same way.

Steve complained less than expected when Dustin bombarded your plans or caused some sort of issue where you were late to the movies or missed getting to a restaurant before they closed.

After Vecna, neither of you complained at all.

Dustin’s entire personality had shifted the night of the battle.

When you found Dustin and Eddie, the older male was barely hanging onto life and Dustin was distraught. For a moment, you thought they were both in danger, and rushed to your brother’s aide to check on him. The adrenaline and emotions had crashed down onto Dustin so heavily that he could do no more than sob as he held Eddie in his arms.

Thankfully Eddie survived, but getting him back to your world was almost as difficult as the battle itself. Between Dustin having to be forcefully removed from Eddie’s side and the rush to make a makeshift stretcher with a piece of plywood that had to be pried off of the Upside Down Munson trailer window, your little brother transformed from still innocent despite it all to a horrifyingly hardened teenage boy who had seen far too much in a few years. It was almost immediate and in front of your eyes.

All you could do once Eddie was considered stable was hold onto your little brother, and thankfully he let you.

Over the last few months, Dustin didn’t laugh as much as before and it broke your heart to witness. Your mother raised him well and he was the sweetest little nerd and the biggest pain in the ass. You wouldn’t change him for anything in the world, though, so watching his transformation and knowing there was no way to stop it was harder for you than fighting interdimensional creatures.

Still, you tried to keep the routine you and Steve built as normal as possible in the hopes that part of your lives wouldn’t change. Dustin stopped inserting himself in the relationship and you found yourself missing him.

Even when he was right there.

Among the clutter of everyday life, Dustin’s shoes thrown haphazardly in the hallway, a stack of VHS tapes that needed to be returned to Family Video that Steve constantly pointed out with a joke that he was going to put your family on the ban list if you didn’t get them back soon, and dishes drying on the kitchen counter, it was a normal evening in the Henderson-Harrington household.

After dinner as a family of four, your mother moved to her room to watch the news and do her scheduled scrapbooking and Dustin went to his own room to play video games or mess around with whatever invention he was working on at the time, leaving you and Steve to the rest of the house.

You spent your time together watching almost half of a movie before you began to feel the day catch up with you.

“Should we go to bed?” You asked as you stretched, eyeing Steve’s heavy lids. “I have my early classes tomorrow.”

Steve nodded and waited for you to stand from the couch before following, letting you lead the way to your bedroom.

It was quiet and peaceful while you picked out pajamas for the night and began undressing, giggling sleepily when Steve batted your hands out of the way to slip the nightshirt over your head.

“What was that for?” I can dress myself, you wanted to sass, but it was sweet when he was like this - his way of pampering you when it was simply time to get ready to sleep.

You’d never complain about Steve’s affection and attention.

“I just wanted to do it. Haven’t touched you much tonight.” Steve replied with a shrug and proceeded to get into his own pajamas. He usually just slept in a pair of pajama bottoms without a shirt unless it was the dead of winter, and you couldn’t say that you minded getting to rest against his bare chest or shoulder every night.

Watching him through your vanity mirror, you smiled.

“What’re you looking at?” He asked in mock anger, casually flexing his muscles at the attention.

“I like how relaxed you are after dinner.”

“I’m always relaxed after eating.”

You shook your head. The smile was still on your lips.

“No, not like that. I don’t mean tired. I mean, it’s like you’re content after dinner with us.”

Steve thought about it for a moment with his head tilted and you could see the precise moment a blush began to form on his neck and up toward his cheeks.

“I guess it’s the company,” He settled on with a shrug. Your smile grew. “It’s a nice feeling being here.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said, getting up and crossing the floor over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek to his chest. “I can’t wait until we can do this all the time.”

He lifted a hand to the back of your head and held you against him in what could only be described as a tender embrace, his way of saying, “me too.”

Somehow, despite the last few years - the last few months alone - you still managed to sleep pretty well. Especially when Steve was in the same bed, an arm slung heavily over your waist and the length of his body pressed against your back. His soft breaths hit the back of your neck or your shoulder with every exhale, the rhythm lulling you back to sleep anytime you woke up from a noise or dream.

But tonight there was a sound you couldn’t place. Usually you could recognize the ticking of the clock, the noise of the refrigerator, or a tree branch scratching the window. Those noises could be ignored in favor of Steve’s breathing. This, though, was weird and right outside your bedroom door.

The hairs on your arms stood up as it continued, a chafing sound back and forth on the carpet.

Your first thought was to wake up Steve, of course, but you didn’t want to turn your attention away from the door. Taking a deep breath, you sat up, Steve’s arm falling to your hip and then onto the mattress as you moved to stand from the bed.

There was a bat just under your bed, so you kept your eyes on the door as you squatted down to blindly reach for it. But before your fingers could grasp the wood, the doorknob turned and the door was being pushed open.

The sound was moving toward you now and you quickly crawled back to the bed to wake Steve up with a rough push of his shoulder.

Ever vigilant, Steve sat up quickly and looked around. He was still half asleep, but he was on guard almost immediately.

“What? What’s happening?”

You shushed him and slipped closer to whisper in his ear.

“Something’s at the door.”

“Steve?” Now there was a voice. Holy shit.

Thankfully your vision had adjusted to the darkness in the minutes since you woke up so you were able to see as the creature-person-whatever was hunting you completely entered the room.

Steve, however, had only been awake for a few seconds, so his reaction was one of fear while you were relieved to see it was only Dustin.

“Sissy?” He whispered into the room and you fell back onto your bed in relief. You hadn’t heard that nickname in years.

You reached for Steve and patted his leg at an awkward angle as he was halfway off the bed.

“It’s Dustin,” you said before propping yourself up on the pillows to look at your brother where he was standing just inside the room. “What’s wrong?”

The last time your brother snuck into your bedroom during the night, he was still practically a baby in your eyes and you were a kid yourself. You weren’t at that point yet where being close to your sibling was considered uncool or weird, so you didn’t complain about him waking you up in the middle of the night to cuddle.

But that was years ago and now you were an adult while he was a teenager, and that was definitely weird territory.

Or it would have been weird if he didn’t look absolutely wrecked. His hair was a mess, curls having been pulled by hands and pressed by the tossing and turning for the last few hours.

“Come here.”

Steve’s breathing was labored as he relaxed from the surprise, but his eyes closely followed Dustin when he moved to the bed to sit on the edge of it.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Dustin said and you sat up to place a hand on his back, rubbing in the small circles you’d learned from your mom, the comforting action always helping when you were in the same situation. You weren’t sure it would help right now because Dustin was so tense that he probably couldn’t even feel the touch. “I was asleep, but it’s there every time I close my eyes.”

“What is?”

“The Upside Down. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there, and Eddie’s - Eddie’s dead this time, and there’s so much blood, and it’s all my fault.”

“Hey. Nothing that happened was ever your fault.” You spoke slowly and moved your hand to his head, ruffling his hair. “And Eddie is fine. Max is fine. We’re all okay.”

Physically, you almost added, but stopped yourself. Mentally, you were all messed up, and it would be a long road before any of you were anywhere close to being 100% okay. If ever. But Dustin was your little brother and you wanted to have hope that one day he would be able to live without thinking about all of this Upside Down shit everyday.

“I still get nightmares, too,” Steve spoke up behind you, sitting up and settling against the headboard. He sat there and watched the two of you. You were still attempting to smooth out Dustin’s hair and the tension was easing from the teenager’s shoulders little by little as you did.

You glanced back at Steve and sent him a small, sad smile.

“We all do. You don’t have to deal with it alone, you know? I’m glad you came in here instead of tossing and turning all night. I don’t want you to torture yourself, Dusty.”

Dustin sighed but nodded.

He spent the last few months internalizing everything in an unhealthy way and it was almost enough to make you cry that he finally let you in.

“How about some hot milk? That’s supposed to work for sleep, right?” Steve questioned and stood from the bed, stretching before adjusting his pajama pants up his hips.

“That’s disgusting, but probably worth a shot.”

You squeezed Dustin’s arm and adjusted on the bed until you were in the middle of the full size mattress. Steve left the room with a promise to be right back.

“Lie down.”

It was silent as the two of you lay there. Sleep was the last thing on your mind now.

“Thank you for coming to me,” you said after a moment.

“For what?”

“For trusting me - us - and telling us that you’re having trouble. We’ve all changed during everything, but I don’t want you to distance yourself so much. I’m still your big sister and I want to take care of you.”

Dustin opened his mouth a few times before settling on one word: “Thanks.”

“I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Even when you and Steve leave?”

“What?”

“You’re going to move out soon, aren’t you? You and Steve - you’re going to start your own family one day.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re already part of our family.” Turning to your side, you used a hand to prop your head up so you could look at him. He was turned away from you, so you fixed your eyes onto the back of his head. “You can stay with us whenever you want.”

Steve stepped into the room and you could tell he heard Dustin’s question from the downturn of his lips, but he played it off and placed the mug of warm milk on the bedside table. With his other hand he held another mug and walked around the bed before offering it to you.

You sat up and took it.

“Chamomile,” he said to your silent question. You leaned into him in thanks.

It was quiet as the two of you drank your bedtime beverages - your tea was lukewarm instead of hot, so you guessed it had been heated up in the microwave to save time. It was a perfect addition to the comfort of Steve’s arm around your shoulder.

Dustin fell asleep before finishing his milk and you leaned over him to place the mug back onto the bedside table, Steve taking your own and doing the same on his side. You curled up into him, back facing Dustin as he snored away behind you.

You signed heavily and Steve held you tighter.

“You’re going to be a great mom one day,” he whispered against your head.

“You think so?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course. I’ve known it for a long time because you’re really cool with the kids, but you’re like this comfort that all of us need and I can already imagine you taking care of scraped knees and nightmares like tonight.”

“It might’ve been the milk,” you said jokingly.

“Thought that was disgusting.”

“It is, but that’s why our kids will need you, too, because I would never think about that.”

Steve laughed softly and you cuddled further into him as you began to fall asleep.

“Maybe we can get a place with an extra room,” he said and you smiled, your lips pressing to his skin in a small kiss.

“All for Dusty?”

“Yeah, all for Dusty.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #dustin henderson fanfic #dustin henderson angst #dustin henderson fluff #stranger things fanfic #writing tag

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scarletttries · 8 months

Text

Eddie Munson Fluff Alphabet (Stranger Things)

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

Author's Note: I've been really enjoying writing these alphabets lately, and there's been a lot of great Eddie Munson on here lately so I wanted to write this fluff for him 🥰 Requests for alphabets open while I'm away!!

a -affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

When you first start dating Eddie he finds it hard to put his feelings into words or actions; he never thought he'd be someone's boyfriend and he really doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He'd be worried about kissing you or holding your hand in public, scared the reaction from others would put you off him all together, but in private he would absolutely shower you in cuddles and kisses as long as he knew you were happy about, his lap quickly becoming your favourite seat. He'd also definitely leave you little notes in your locker with the sweet words he'd be too nervous to say to your face, watching apprehensively as you unfold them and breathing a sigh of relief as a bashful smile spreads across your face at the content. He'd also be the kind of guy he just wants to do you a thousand favours; if you need to go somewhere, he'll drive, if you're hungry, he's got a snack in his backpack you can have, if you need to study for something, he'll try harder to help than he ever has for his own school career.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

Eddie will never understand when you tell him his beauty is both inside and out, thinking you like him despite those things not because of them. Over time, when you comb your fingers through his hair, staring into his deep brown eyes, placing gentle kisses on each of his tattoos, he'll finally start to accept that you think he's handsome, even though it was kindness and passion that made you fall in love with him.

There is nothing Eddie doesn't worship about you. Your smile is like sunlight, your laugh the sweetest noise in the universe, the way your body moves is hypnotic, and he knows in his soul there has never been anyone as kind and smart and interesting, and perfect for him. Even if he's not sure what he ever did to deserve you.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

After a lifetime of very limited physical affection, touch-starved Eddie would be a cuddle machine. The first time you straddled his lap to kiss him and then rest your head on his shoulder, he could have cried with the joy it brought him, squeezing you against his chest and threatening to never let go. Now he takes every opportunity to pull your chair next to his so he can feel your thigh press against his, and movie nights require you curled against his chest for the full duration. He loves when you let him sneak into your bedroom for a sleepover so he can spend all night clinging to you, and wake up with his hands on your warm skin, a position he wants to wake up in everyday for the rest of his life.

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

Being a dungeon master takes more planning and organisation than you might expect, so don't be surprised when Eddie applies that same dedication to being a boyfriend. He'll always make a plan for your next date before the current one has ended, needing to have another day with you to look forward to. Dates are usually pretty simple, movie nights at home, sitting by lovers lake when the weather is nice, the occasional trip to the one bar in town that lets Eddie's band play. Sometimes Eddie wishes he could treat you to more special dates, but you reassure him that as long as you are together, everything is perfect.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Eddie's never had someone else interested in him, so he'd not really been in a position to end things, but if he needed to he'd be direct and honest. He knows what it's like to get your hopes up only to have them cruelly dashed so he'd want to avoid causing that pain to anyone else. Luckily he will never need to do that with you.

f - fiancee (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Eddie grew up without the traditional family dynamic he saw his classmates have, which made him jaded about the whole institution when he was younger. But when he falls head over heels, heart aching in love with you, and you actually love him back, he suddenly realises that this little family of two could be exactly what he's always desperately wanted. He would be so, deeply, committed to you from the moment you agreed to your first date with him that it would feel like second nature to picture a future together. It wouldn't take him long to think about asking you to marry him, but then it might take him a while longer to actually get the nerve, struggling to believe he might actually get to keep you forever and worrying you'll think you're both too young and it's all a bit soon. He has to force himself to wait until you've both graduated, only holding his diploma for a few short hours before he's down on one knee, feeling like a little kid and a grown man all at once.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Has there ever been a boy as soft and gentle as sweet Eddie? He's been through more pain and heartache in his 21 years than anyone should have to, so you know he's doing everything he can to protect you from ever feeling that way. Every word he uses is sweet and carefully chosen, his thoughtfulness shining through in his every action towards you. And when he touches you with a nervous shake to his hands, like he can't quite believe you actually want him to do this, every touch and hold and squeeze will be delicate and soft; he knows just how precious you are to him, and wants to handle you accordingly.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do if? what are their hugs like?)

To Eddie your hugs are like the first breath of oxygen after years of drowning in a cold, dark sea. The first time you threw your arms around his neck and cling to the shell-shocked boy, your chest pressed against his until gradually his arm ensnared you too, he was sure it was the warmest he'd ever felt. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, letting his eyelids flutter shut as he inhaled the comforting scent that is 100% you, and felt like he was home. He thought about that hug for weeks as he tried to find an excuse to hug you again, starting to hug all of his friends for the smallest reasons to make it seem like that's something he did with everyone. Now he knows he can just open his arms to you and give you that pleading look, and you'll hold him in your arms once again until all his troubles seem so much more manageable.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

When Eddie gets hurt he thinks nothing of it. If anything he'll just apologise for the inconvenience of having to go wash himself up, caught completely off guard when you insist on coming with him, cleaning up any grazes so tenderly that but the time you're done Eddie is leaning into your touch, his wide eyes glassy at how sweet it feels to be cared for by you.

If you're the one hurt, Eddie will be in a panic, blaming himself and insisting on driving you straight to the hospital for your papercut. He is much better when you are more ill than injured though, taking the opportunity to insist you do nothing all day, and let him fetch everything so he can sit beside you and enjoy doing nothing together.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

Eddie knows in his heart of hearts that you're too good for him, so when he sees someone who's better at school, or more popular, or from a less dysfunctional household talking to you, he goes from jealous to despondent pretty quickly. He wants to be the kind of guy who confidently struts over and wraps his arm around, leaving no question in the guy's mind that someone already loves you, but he can't quite will his feet to walk towards you and instead he finds himself frozen in place watching his worst nightmare unfold. When you spot him staring hopelessly in your direction you'll have to excuse yourself and be the one to plant a loving kiss squarely on his lips so that he can smile again, secure in his faith that you would never do anything to hurt him.

k- kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh my god, kissing Eddie would be such an experience. He's waited a long time to be able to regularly kiss someone he loves, picturing how your lips would feel on his from embarrassingly early in your friendship, sure that he'd never get that chance and happy just to be in your life in any capacity. So when you finally ease your lips against his for the first time, he can scarcely believe how much better it feels than he ever could have imagined. He can feel his stomach doing flips as he works up the nerve to apply a little more pressure, scared to breathe in case he somehow ruins this perfect moment. Even a thousand kisses later he will never take them for granted, stealing a kiss at every opportunity and cherishing the buzz it always brings, cheeks creasing into a smile immediately after. A kiss on his lips will always be his favourite, but his also overflows with adoration when you place a quick peck on his cheek, or softly press your lips to his forehead when he's having a bad day. And when your lips find his neck or start blessing each of his tattoos, well this boy feels like he must have died and met an angel at the gates of heaven.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

I think Eddie likes to show his love through his words and acts of service. He'll leave you little notes and tell you every day how much he appreciates you, and he's the first to offer help even before you ask for it, the thought of making your day a little easier or better his absolute purpose in life as your boyfriend.

When it comes to receiving love, he is more of a quality time and physical touch guy. Just be there for him, keep turning up, stay with him even when it's not a fun or exciting a day, and slowly it'll start sinking in that you truly love him. Add in holding his hand when you're walking together, or laying your head on his chest while you curl up in his lap, and Eddie will be falling for you quicker than he would have ever thought possible.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Eddie is not a morning person at the best of times, but when he sleeps over on a school night and you have to get him up to take you to class, be prepared for some truly pathetic whines about how he needs more time in bed cuddling you, the outside world so much colder than between your sheets. On the weekends when you can have a slower start to the day, Eddie will be so happy waking up by your side, holding you close and wishing the moment would never end.

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

As a night owl through and through, Eddie feels like he can spend some of his best time with you in the evenings. Even when he's just chatting about an album as you get ready for bed, or watching the stars sat on the hood of his van hours after he was supposed to drive you, he feels like that time is so special, when there's no expectations and endless privacy, like you are the only other person in town and he's exactly where he's supposed to be.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

At first Eddie would be guarded. He's been bullied for so long that he thinks any scrap of information he gives away will just come back to haunt him in the form of mockery. Besides in his mind, the less you know about him the better, each new fact potentially being the one that's going to finally drive you away. It wouldn't be until you start opening up about the tougher parts of your life, or the less favourable things about you that Eddie would trust you enough to do the same, surprised how easy it is to unburden himself when it comes to talking to you.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Eddie struggles to be patient with himself, constantly frustrated by his own shortcomings and setbacks. He's so conscious of feeling like people are always mad at him, that he would make sure that he never makes you feel the same way - showing you limitless patience without ever raising his voice or making you feel bad when he has to wait for you. Do the same, praising his successes and consoling him when things go wrong, and slowly he'll start to show those small kindnesses to himself too.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Eddie would sit and watch a wall of white paint dry if he could do it holding your hand. There's something about being with you that means he's never bored, your presence elevating any moment by just simply being there. You'll spend a lot of time sat in the trailer doing almost nothing, or out driving to remote spots in Hawkins where you can just be together with no distractions. If you want to see a movie or play D&D that's great too, but honestly as long as he's with you Eddie can't get enough quality time.

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Eddie was so unbelievably terrified to finally tell you that he liked you as more than a friend, he thought it might be the worst day of his life. First his van wouldn't start and he had to wake Wayne to drive him to school, where he was late to his first class and didn't get to talk to you when he'd hoped. He felt like he spent the whole day trying and failing to find you, his courage wavering as he considered backing out of his confession, a lifetime spent as your friend more than enough for him. By the afternoon his stomach was in knots so he skipped last period to sit in his favourite spot in the woods, not expecting any business and hoping the peace would let him pull himself back together.

He cradled his head in hands and felt like a fool for thinking anything could come of telling you how he feels, bolting upright at the noise of leaves rustling on the floor beside him,

"Eddie? I hoped you'd be here, I missed you this morning." You beamed as you approached, concern creasing across your brow at his obvious emotional turmoil, "Did something happen this morning?"

"Nothing, just the van wouldn't start so my uncle had to drive me, and we were a little late getting here." He gently shook his head and tried to send away his raised hopes with the gesture, wanting to just enjoy being here with you today.

"Oh I'm sorry, that sucks. I can give you a ride home if you like?" You offered hopefully, Eddie forcing himself to hold in a disappointed sigh, sure that if you didn't already pity the three-time senior, you would once you saw where he lived. "Eddie, are you okay?" He finally forced himself to turn on the little wooden bench to face you, concern clear in your caring eyes and forcing the truth out of him,

"No. I'm in love." He was sure he could see heartbreak in your eyes at the words and you gulped and tried to regain composure, in his mind watching a friendship crumble into pieces all around you.

"Have you told them how you feel?" Your voice quivered at the question, a pit of despair opening in your stomach at the thought of Eddie being with someone else, kicking yourself for not telling him how you feel sooner.

"Not yet."

"Then can I do something, while I still can, before you do? Just in case it changes your mind." Your words were a few steps ahead of your brain as they rushed off your tongue, eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as he nodded at your question, bracing himself to be talked out of ever telling you. Instead you shifted closer to him until your knees bumped against his, placing a hand softly on his thigh and leaning forward until after weeks of wanting, your lips finally met his. You could almost hear your heart hammering in your chest at the gesture, the soft embrace of his willing mouth sending electricity through your veins, willing you to lean in a little more, to memorise the taste in case you'd never get to kiss him again. Finally, reluctantly, the two of you parted, you shifting slightly back in your seat to give him space to process.

"I don't understand." Eddie breathed out truthfully, not sure how such a singularly spectacular moment was supposed to do anything to change his mind.

"I'm in love too. But with you. I thought you should know before you, you know, confess to someone else." He had spent the morning so convinced that he'd never get the words out that he had scarcely imagined how it would feel to hear you say the very same words to him. But here you were, looking at him hopefully before he'd even told you the depth of his love for you, worried about some fictional rival in his heart like he had ever had eyes for anyone else. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry or just fall to the floor and accept that he would never feel luckier than he did when you kissed him, the moment of silent contemplation doing little for your nerves.

"I'll still drive you home either way." You said with a polite firmness, worried about putting him in an awkward spot, until finally his brain propelled him across the bench and back to your kiss, the second even more special for the feel of your soft smile against his lips. You wanted him too.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

As someone who's spent a lot of time being pushed around, judged and spoken down to, Eddie would feel immensely protective over you when you're dating, worried that any association with him will put you under the same scrutiny. He'll try and keep his distance in the halls, thinking he's protecting you by not showing just how close you are, surprised by the way you constantly seek him out, unafraid to thread your fingers through his in front of the whole student body. He doesn't realise quite how much those gestures protect him from himself, your unashamed feelings for him starting to silence his inner critic after years of bullying, making him kinder to himself and less prone to bouts of withdrawing into himself now that he has you to keep him from being isolated.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Eddie is the king of putting in effort. Every day he'll go out of his way to make sure you never feel unappreciated or like you have to face anything on your own. There's not a favour he won't do for you, and he's always communicating so you know that if there's something on your mind that he understands and you can face it together. When it comes to gifts and anniversaries he always does the best that he can, but he knows it's not about the material things for the two of you, his priority making sure you both have time set aside to really appreciate each others company, wherever you may be spending the day.

u - upset (how do they act when you're upset? how do they act when they're upset?)

Eddie is used to having to hide his low feelings and keep them to himself, so when you first get together, he would fall back into that habit, never wanting you to be burdened with his sadness. Over time as he gets the privilege of supporting you when things get tough, he realises that part of being your boyfriend is being open with you and slowly he'll start to tell you about the bad days, letting you coo over him and stroke back his hair, feeling like his burdens are much less heavy after an hour spent cuddled up with you.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

Its not that Eddie is vain in the traditional sense of trying to look as attractive as possible to others, but he cares about the way he looks because it's a way he can express his personality and feel more comfortable in his skin. And when you tell him that you like the way he dresses, or his hair looks extra nice one day, it will give validation of those efforts for years to come.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them.)

Eddie is so so scared for you and Wayne to meet. He can't put his finger on why - you both love him, you both look after him, everything should be fine. But deep down he dreads the first time he brings you to the trailer and you and Wayne exchange frowns and then his life becomes awkward and difficult just as you were shining such a bright light on it. Its inevitable though, and one sunny afternoon you huddle together on his floor desperately studying for a Spanish quiz when Wayne walks in. Eddie's ready for a full stand off, but of course when you meet Wayne, that man that practically raised the sweet gentleman you love, you can't help but gush. And Wayne meets the person that has his nephew going to school on time and smiling day in day out like when he was a little kid, the warmth in your eyes when you talk about Eddie immediately obvious, and he's so pleased. And Eddie is in the middle of you two forming a watertight bond and feels like an idiot for not making this happen on purpose sooner, the two sources of love in his life aligning to look after him.

x - x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

Once he's past the initial blindspot of not being able to tell that you are just as in love with him as he is with you, Eddie pretty good at reading you. He's so used to watching your expression in painstaking detail as he admires your every feature, that he can tell pretty quickly when something is playing on your mind. He'll usually try and wait for you to tell him in your own time, never wanting to overstep, but if something's clearly eating you up inside he'll go out of his way to make space for it to come up 'organically'.

y - yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

At first Eddie finds it endlessly stressful how you see the best in everyone. He's so used to seeing everyone's underhanded tactics, the worst of their pack mentality, that when you say you're giving people a chance, he's immediately terrified that you're going to get hurt. Over time, he's comes to accept that it's not naivety or even optimism behind this - it's a lived truth that when given the chance, as you gave him a chance, you bring out the best in people, something he grows to be thankful of every day.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He grabs your hand. Like the minute the lights are out and the quiet chatter of jokes and the future and everything that the two of you have to look forward to comes to its natural, comfortable end, he will hold your hand, dozing off clinging to you like a life vest in the overwhelming storm of life. If he wakes up in the night and he's let you go, he will find that hand again, unable to drift off without his tangible link to you.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things headcanons #stranger things

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Text

I’ll Watch Your Life in Pictures

AN | I don’t know why I’m like this, why I like pain. But here we are. This hurts, it does, but ya know, it was calling to me. Apologies in advance :’)

Warnings | Language, Death

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

Can be read as a prequel to this!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hi Dustin! Is Eddie here?” your face felt like it was going to break in half. Getting to see your boyfriend after two weeks with no communication felt better than you could have ever imagined. You still couldn’t believe your family just had to go camping in the middle of podunk nowhere with no access to the outside world. Dustin’s eyes quickly grew glossy, his lip trembling with effort as he tried to say something, anything. Your smile faltered slightly, “Dustin? Where’s Eddie?”

“I-I-I’m so sorry.”

“What?” you shook your head in amusement, confused by his response, “he wasn’t at home and Wayne was gone too. The place was all closed up and no one answered the phone. I figured he would be with you guys.”

“H-he’s not…” tears were running down his cheeks as his body trembled. You looked behind him and spied Lucas and Erica on the couch, flanked by Steve, Robin, and Nancy. Their faces were emotionless masks, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. You’d never once known Steve or Robin to be so quiet, but neither of them said a word.

“Where’s Eddie?” your eyes were stinging with tears as your heart started to pound in your chest. Something was wrong, so very wrong, “Dustin, where is Eddie? Where is he?”

“I’m so sorry,” was all he managed to choke out before he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your chest as he cried, his grip so tight it almost crushed you, “so, so sorry.”

“You’re joking, right?” you were crying now, the faces of your friends blurred by the tears, “this is a stupid joke right…Eddie’s just playing a joke. Where is he? P-please. Tell me where he is.”

You startled when you felt a warm, strong hand squeeze your shoulder. You looked up to find Steve looking at you with a hard expression on his face, mouth drawn into a thin line before spoke, “Eddie’s not here, sweetheart. He’s…he’s gone.”

“Gone where?” it was a last ditch attempt to ignore the pain that was already setting in, “Steve?”

“Come in,” he whispered gently, “we need to talk.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could feel his eyes on you, following you across his room as you got ready for school. He should have been doing the same thing, but he was too entranced by you, watching every little move with reverence.

“What’cha staring at, lover boy?” you peeked over your shoulder to find him smiling at you, his smile and eyes ridiculously soft. He held out a hand to you and motioned for you to get back into bed with him. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, quickly deciding that being a few minutes late for school was worth getting to spend more time cuddled up with him.

“Just you,” he pulled you into his lap, his hands easily settling on your hips, large and warm on your soft skin, “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Stop,” you were grinning, biting your lip as your face flushed with warmth. Eddie was a lot of things, including one of the most gentle and sweetest people you’d ever met, “you’ve already got me.”

“And?” he raised an eyebrow as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous little twinkle, “doesn’t mean you’re not the prettiest girl in the world. Both can be true. I love you.”

“I love you,” you kissed him, pressing your lips against his in a slow and lazy manner, neither of you in a hurry or wanting to part. When he’d kissed you breathless, you took his face in your hands and gently stroked his cheek. A tinge of pink rose up in his cheeks, highlighting his faint freckles, “we still have to get to school though. Don’t think I don’t see through your little plan, Munson.”

“I would never do such a thing as try to keep you from school,” he clutched at his heart and pretended to be hurt, which only caused you to giggle, “besides, this is my year, baby. All thanks to you.”

“It’s not thanks to me,” you insisted with a poke to his chest, “it’s all thanks to you, Eddie Munson. You’re the one that’s done everything to get you to where you’re at. This is your year, and I’m glad to be right by your side.”

“I must have gotten you fooled,” he ghosted his fingers along your jaw, before his settled his hand on the side of your neck, the metal of his rings cool against your skin, “how you’d agree to go out with the town freak, drug dealer, and fuck up, huh?”

“Stop,” you put a finger to his lips to keep from making any further disparaging comments about himself, even if they were just a joke, “you are anything but a freak - you’re such a dorky, nerdy little metalhead - and you are not a fuck up. You are so smart and wonderful and so many other things. Besides, look at you, you look like a soft little puppy, how could anyone ever think you’d be the leader of a cult?”

“You think I’m a soft little puppy, huh?” he quickly flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him. He looked down at you before pressing a few sloppy, wet kisses to your neck, “is that really what you think?”

“Eddie!” you were squirming and laughing now as he tickled you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he bit at the delicate skin, soothing the marks with kisses, “you’re playing dirty!”

“I thought you liked that,” he paused and looked up at you with a big pout on his face, which only made you leaned up to kiss him a few more times, “baby.”

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered softly, “this is your year.”

“Our year, pretty girl,” he agreed with another kiss, “I love you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could hear that Steve and Dustin were speaking to you, but their voices sounded muffled and seemed so far away. It’s like your body instantly went into fight or flight mode as soon as they’d confirmed your worst fears, opting to create a bubble around you.

They told you everything, from Chrissy’s death to Max to Vecna and El and everything that happened in California and Russia and the upside down. It all seemed like a crazy fever dream. You wished it had been. You wished none of the shit that you had been through ever happened. You’d been gone for two weeks and your entire world had fallen apart without you even knowing. All because no one could get a hold of you. If you had been with them...things could have been so different.

You heard Dustin whisper your name as he gently shook your shoulder. You snapped back into reality, not having realized that tears had been streaming down your face, soaking into the fabric of your - Eddie’s - shirt and onto your jeans.

“He wanted you to have this,” he held out his hand to you, displaying the neck that Eddie had always worn. Seeing it there, in the palm of the young boy’s hand, served as another reminder that he wasn’t here. He was never coming back. Your lips trembled as you took the chain from him, thumbing over the pick that had your initials carved into it before putting it on, “he was a hero, you know. H-he died to save everyone else.”

You couldn’t help the ugly sob that escaped your lips as Steve pulled in for a hug, letting you bury your face in his chest as he gently rubbed your back. It would do nothing to ease the pain, the horrible, burning, unfair pain of Eddie’s death, but he hoped it would at least remind you that they were all there for you.

“I d-didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you cried, your voice cracking and hoarse, “it’s all my fault. It’s all my fault, Steve. This never would have happened if it wasn’t for me.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered as he squeezed his own eyes shut, his heart breaking even further, “none of it was your fault. If you had been here, he would have followed you. You couldn’t ever have stopped him.”

“It’s my fault,” you insisted, “because I started dating him. Because I was so stupid and selfish and dragged him into my life - into our lives. If I hadn’t, he would still be alive. He’d be okay and none of this would have ever happened. He’d be here…and now he’s just…gone.”

“Don’t,” Steve pulled back and took your face in his hands, attempting to wipe some of the tears away. It was in vain as fresh ones continued to well up, “don’t ever say that. You loved him and he loved you, t-that’s what life is about. You can’t say you never should have loved him and created your life with him in it because of this. He would have done anything for you and if you’d been here, you would have too. It’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair at all, but please…don’t ever say that.”

“Steve,” you looked at him, and he nodded softly in understanding, tears now running down his own face, “I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I couldn’t even be there for him.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing you weren’t there,” despite his attempts, he knew that nothing was going to make it better right now, “you didn’t have to see…the last memory you have of him is a good one. Just hold onto that.”

“What am I going to do without him?” the idea that you would have to face a life without him, that he was no longer part of your future made everything even worse, “how am I supposed to spend the rest of my life without him? How?”

“I wish I had the answer,” he let out a shaky breath, “I wish I knew. Eventually we will. Right now…I don’t know. But we have each other - all of us.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, reached over and pulling Dustin into a hug, “at least we’re all one fucked up family together.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re going to have a great time,” Eddie was lying in your bed, hands tucked behind his head as you walked around the room, trying to get everything together for your camping trip, “it’s gonna go by fast and then you’ll be right back here with me, baby.”

“I hate camping.”

“It won’t be so bad.”

“It’ll be in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’ll be a break from everything.”

“I won’t be able to talk to you while I’m gone.”

“I know, and that fucking sucks,” he agreed with a light sigh, “but it’ll just make it that much sweeter when you get back.”

“I hate when you do that,” you tossed a few more shirts into your bag with a small huff.

“When I do what exactly?”

“When you’re being right - all logical and reasonable,” you pouted at him, which just caused him to laugh as he jumped over to you. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You sighed softly as you leaned into him, putting a hand on top of his. This was probably - not probably, it was - your favorite spot in the world. In Eddie’s arms, “are you sure you can’t come, love?”

“Nah, I’ve got the little geeks to take care of,” he pressed a skin to your shoulder as your eyes fluttered closed, “gotta a few big deals to take care of too - then we’ll have plenty of money to take a trip after graduation. Besides, it’s a family thing, so…you’ll do some bonding with your family.”

“You know they wouldn’t care if you came.”

“You love me that much, huh?” he teased as you playfully groaned, “can’t even stand to be away for two weeks?”

“Ugh no,” you turned around in his arms so you were facing him, “if it was a choice, I would never be away from you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small huff of laughter, “me neither. But it’ll be okay. Two weeks will go by in no time, and then you’ll come home and then we’ll have the weekend before we go back to school and I am not planning on letting you leave my bed once you get back.”

“You’re a real romantic, Munson.”

“Only for you, angel,” he leaned in and kissed you, attempting to pour every ounce of love that he had for you into it. You could feel it, wishing you never had to part from him, “you’re going to be alright, you know?”

“I know,” you buried your face in his chest and committed his scent to memory, “promise me you’ll be good when I’m gone? That you won’t get into trouble?”

“Relax,” he insisted gently, “everything’s going to be fine and no one’s getting into trouble. The wildest thing we’ll probably do is start a new d&d campaign.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky,” he grinned as he nudged his nose against yours, hooking one of his pinkies around yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, Eddie Munson.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Here,” Robin shoved a granola bar in your face, causing you to give her a wary glance before shoving her hand away. She sighed lightly but set it in front of you, “you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” your was monotone as it had been the last month. It didn’t sound anything like how it used to, so tired and lifeless. Just how you felt.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked softly as you looked away and shrugged your shoulders. Your appetite had gone and you couldn’t be bothered to force anything down, “babe, you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what, Robin? Mourning my boyfriend?” you snapped, immediately regretting it as you watched her face fall. You hadn’t meant to be so harsh; you knew she only meant well. You knew she loved you and cared about you, but it seemed like nothing mattered anymore. You grabbed your bag and headed out of the lunch room, leaving Robin and Nancy behind as they exchanged a forlorn look.

You all but ran outside in the fresh air, exhaling shakily as soon as all the noise and chatter was behind you. You still had a few classes left, but you didn’t care, you just…couldn’t be around all of that noise. It was too much, too loud, too…everything all at once. Instead you ducked into the small wooded grove, sitting down at the old, rickety picnic table.

As soon as you did, a fresh wave of tears pearled up and rolled down your cheeks. You didn’t have the energy anymore to properly cry; it seemed like all you had been doing lately. Instead you stared straight ahead into the wood at nothing in particular. You felt so hollow, so empty, so…you couldn’t even explain it properly. The word sad wasn’t nearly strong enough to describe the aching feeling that refused to leave. A piece of your heart had died and it felt like it would never get better. How were you supposed to go through the rest of your life like this? With a gaping hole in your heart?

You weren’t even sure how long you had been sitting when you heard softly approaching footsteps. There was no need to bother checking who it was, you knew Steve’s tread so well.

“Hey,” he said softly as he sat down next to you, leaving just enough distance between your bodies.

"Hey," you didn't bother looking at him and you knew he was going to force anything. The two of you sat in silence for some time, only moving when the sun started to slowly set. You allowed yourself a glance at him and found him studying you.

"You want to come to mine?" he asked softly as you nodded. You couldn't handle the thought of going home, to your bed that still seemed to smell like him no matter how many times you washed your bedding, to the dresser that was half filled with his clothes, to everything that served as a reminder of him. Of the fact that he was gone.

"Yeah," you nodded, following suit as he stood up. He took your backpack and you followed him to his car in silence.

The drive to his house was silent save for the upbeat pop music that was lightly playing on the radio.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"I-I don't want to always feel like this," you whispered, keeping your face turned towards the window, "it feels like it's never going to get better. Like I'm always going to have this big hole in my chest. It feels like I can't breathe. I want it to get better but I don't know if it ever will."

"It will," he reached over and put his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, "I swear it will."

"When?" you asked meekly, "when will it feel I'm not in this nightmare every single day? Everything reminds me of him, it feels like he's always there and it's not getting better."

"I don't know," he took your hand in his and held onto it tightly, "but I promise it won't always feel like this. It's always going to hurt, but it's not going to feel like this forever. He wouldn't want you to feel like this, to blame yourself-"

"He's dead," it was the first time you'd actually spoken those words out loud. It had always felt like if you never said them, then maybe he'd be okay. Maybe he'd still come back. But you knew it wouldn't, "Eddie's dead. So what does it matter what he would have thought?"

"I wish I could make it better,'" he swallowed the lump in his throat, "I wish I could. But I'm here for you and I'll always be here for you. We all are."

"I just miss him so fucking much," you whimpered, "so much. I wish I could…I-I wish I could get to hug him one last time. I wish I could tell him that I love him one last time. But I can't. And it hurts so much. Sometimes I swear I can still hear him, hear his laugh and I almost expect him to just walk in the room. I wish he’d come back and say this had all been a fucking joke, because then I could yell at him and I’d probably punch him, but it’d be better than this. Because then he would still be here. It hurts so much, Steve. So, so much.”

"I know," Steve couldn't bring himself to look at you, knowing he would break down too if he did, "I know."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Hello beautiful!" Eddie jumped out in front of you, causing you to almost jump in surprise. You could tell he was trying to keep from laughing, his shoulders shaking with effort. He kneeled down so he was face level with you, holding up a small bouquet of daisies to you.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" You couldn't even pretend to be mad as you took the flowers, clutching them lightly to your chest, "what are these for?"

"No reason," he was grinning from ear to ear, "I just wanted to get the prettiest girl - my girl - some flowers. And I happen to know daisies are your favorites so…here we are."

"Eddie," you put your hand on his neck and pulled him in so you could kiss him properly, "this is so sweet. I love you."

"I love you too," he kissed your forehead before shedding his jacket and standing back up, "wanna go for a swim?"

"I'm pretty content just soaking up the sun," you stuck out your tongue as you set the flowers in your water bottle to keep them fresh. You were at Lover's Lake, spending the warm day being lazy at the water.

"Come on angel," he slowly started to take off his shirt and you tried not to oogle him too closely, even if he was your boyfriend, "don't want you to get too warm. Swimming will cool you down!"

"Alright, love," you pretended to give in - as if it really had been a question - and stood up, stripping off your own shirt. You could see his face light up at the sight of your exposed skin, "take a picture, it'll last longer!"

"I already have plenty of you," he winked suggestively as you grew warm. There were indeed many Polaroids of you that he had, including the special one that he kept in his wallet, "top off."

"What?"

"We're going skinny dipping," he was already kicking off his shoes and pulling jeans down his legs as you just laughed, "it'll be fun!"

"What if someone shows up?"

"They won't," he promised softly, "but if they do, I'll preserve your modesty. Your prince charming has you covered."

"Fine," you ripped off your top and the bottoms quickly followed. You grabbed his hand and started to pull him into the water, "come on!"

You were both laughing as you swam out in the cool water, dipping underneath the surface to wet yourselves.

"See," Eddie splashed some water at you, "I have good ideas!"

"Crazy ideas," you swam over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, "I love you, Eddie Munson."

"I love you, angel."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a cold day today, rain had been falling intermittently but it didn't bother you. You hardly even noticed the rain. You hardly noticed anything anymore, as you continued to feel numb and empty.

You trekked out to the secluded little grove in the woods that Eddie had found years ago and never shared with anyone - until you came along. You were sitting on the ground, his flannel wrapped around you, a small pile of wildflowers at your feet. You'd gathered them along the way, and laid them down almost as an offering for him.

You'd bought a book along in an attempt to read, but you couldn't get past more than a page or two at a time. You eventually gave up and sat in silence, hugging your knees to your chest.

"I miss you so fucking much," you said aloud, unsure of what you were talking to, or who, horribly aware of the fact that you were alone. You sniffled and wiped away your tears, "I miss you so much, Eddie. Every single day."

When you were met with nothing but stillness, your heart started to ache more. What were you expecting? For him to just walk out to you?

"I wish I could have been there for you," you sighed, "I wish I could have protected you. But I know you wouldn't have let me. You were always too good and selfless for that. I just…I wish there had been more time. There's so things we planned on doing, so many things I wanted to say, fuck, I wish I had said them when I had the chance. This was supposed to be our year, remember? And now you're not here and I don't know what to do. Everything feels so wrong without you, Eddie. When will it get better?”

You stretched out your legs and let out a long, heavy sigh, accompanied by tears that seemed to be endless these days. It was so still that it was almost unnerving.

"I love you so much," you sobbed quietly, "I will always love you."

A small bit of breeze suddenly picked, swirling around some of the leaves around you. You watched them flutter away into the distance, wondering what had suddenly caused it when you heard a small sound near the tree. You jumped to your feet and quickly padded over to see what it was when you were met with a small but distinct little meow.

You looked down and found a small, fluffy black kitten looking up at you. You looked around for another person or another cat but found nothing, no one. The kitten padded over to you, sitting at your feet and meowing again before purring loudly, almost as if it had been waiting for you.

You bent down to scratch its ears, and it quickly nuzzled into your hand. You let out a small, shaky laugh as you reached down to pick it up.

"H-hi," you said softly as it just purred at you, "what are you doing out here? You're so small, you shouldn't be all alone."

It watched you with inquisitive eyes as you brought him closer to your chest, "it'll be okay, little buddy. I'll keep you safe. I'll make sure you're protected, I promise, okay?"

The kitten meowed softly before climbing under the flannel and making itself comfortable against your chest.

"Thank you," you weren't sure if you were talking to the kitten or whatever had brought it to you, "thank you."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You know how they always ask us what we want to be when we grow up?" you opened a sleepy eye and found Eddie watching you excitedly. You reached over and ran a hand through his unruly waves before touching his cheek. It was late now, and the two of you spent almost all evening in his bed just talking. Not that either of you minded.

"Mhmm," you gave him a small smile, "I used to want to be an archeologist."

"Of course you did," he was grinning from ear to ear, "my smart girl. I bet you can still be one. If you want to."

"I dunno," you shrugged lightly, "but as long as I'm with you, it'll be fine. What about you, love?"

"I was always going to be a rockstar," he gave you a cheeky little grin, "or…something. I think I'll figure it out one day. But - you know what they should be asking us?"

"Enlighten me, love."

"They should ask us stuff like…if we turned into an animal what would be? Or-or what type of flower we'd be, or our favorite dinosaurs or like…if we think star wars will still be around in like 30 years," he was animated, talking with his hands as you watched him in awe. This was the dork that had won over your heart. And it had been so easy to fall for him, so right, "those are the important questions!"

"Oh yeah, totally," you leaned over and kissed his cheek, "give me your answers then, love. Don't be shy."

"You first, angel," he reached over and pulled you on top of him, pausing for just a moment to kiss you.

"I think I'd like to be a dolphin, because then I could be in the ocean all the time," you started softly, "obviously I'd want to be a daisy, my favorite dinosaur is the brontosaurus 'cause they have the cool long necks. And yes, I think star wars will still be around but I think it's gonna be all corporate and overdone. Your turn!"

"Well, I think I'd like to be a cat - everyone loves a cute cat and then I could curl up on your lap all day and follow you around. Wildflowers, definitely, what's better than the flowers that nature just throws at us? I like the triceratops because they have built in armor and I agree with your assessment on star wars."

"A cat?" your lips curled into a smile as you looked down at him, "you'd make a very cute kitty. I'd bet you'd be all black and fluffy with a sweet little meow."

"I'd be whatever kind of cat that you like," you laughed at his silly answer before resting your head on chest and listening to the steady beating of his heart, "if you want a little black and fluffy cat, then that's what I would be."

"You're so silly, Eddie Munson," you pressed a kiss to his warm, soft skin, "but I love you."

"I love you," he wrapped his arms tightly around you, "you're stuck with me forever, just so you know, angel."

"Forever sounds perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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