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qsphyxias · 1 year

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𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕠𝕤

if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; eddie finds ur baby photos + you guys kiss + drops the L bomb

warnings ; male (he/him) reader, ugh i miss writing lower case, no major spoilers, just the character, L bombs, not edited

note ; fuck season 4 bro im shitting tears (yes yes im late to the party, pls, bring in the requests)

words ; 0.7k +

⊱ ───── {⋅ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ - ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴀᴄ⋅} ───── ⊰

"Sweetheaaaart!" He spoke in a singsong voice, "Look what I found!" Eddie slid into your viewpoint from the hallway outside your room, stopping at your door frame on the heels of his tattered socks.

Horror washed over your entire soul as your jaw dropped an inch, eyes widened in panic. "Eddie. Do not tell me…"

Eddie could only stare at you, amused as he tauntingly swayed your photo album back and forth. "Yup, I found your baby photos…!" After Eddie had confirmed your suspicions (with a shit eating grin too), you took no time to launch yourself at him from where you sat. "Eddie! Give- Those- Back!"

Your frown deepened as you heard Eddie's happy laugh echo across your room, his arms catching you after your failed attempt to steal the album back. Eddie's eyes closed as he took a deep breath shortly after wrapping his arms around your back, the cold plastic cover of the album resting on your skin. "Mmmm... Do you smell that?" You scoffed as you heard the smile in his voice, begrudgingly getting comfortable in his grip.

"What, the deceit and lies in the air?" You grunted bitterly into his Hellfire shirt.

He playfully shoved you onto the bed in return of your mean comment, collapsing on top of you shortly after. "C'mon man, don't be like that!" You rolled your eyes, scooting away from him and sitting up. "I, personally, think a trip down memory lane sounds great, but you—" He poked your forehead, crawling towards you and delicately taking a seat on your lap.

"—don't." You finished his sentence, glaring at him for a solid 11 seconds before groaning dejectedly. He was pouting at you, eyes down turned and… Well, adorable. "Okay fine, just open the damn book already." You muttered barely above a whisper, annoyed he was still able to hear you. Eddie expressed his joy the only way he knew how, by cheering loudly, gripping your shoulders, and swinging.

With a final pump of his fists in the air, "Yeeeeesss! You're the best, s/o," he kissed you in thanks. The celebration was short-lived as Eddie had shifted all his attention onto the photo album. "Now come to papa…" You grimaced at his creepy tone, "C'mon man, act semi-normal at least."

"Good sir, I refuse." Eddie flashed a grin to you, placing one hand on his heart, and the other pointing up before excitedly opening the album. With a childlike giggle, Eddie fell backwards, letting his giant hair cushion his fall on your lap.

You couldn't exactly see inside the book from that angle, safe for the view of Eddie's expressions changing every flip of the page; from happy to tearful, and shocked to elated. It was embarrassing for you, but at least he was enjoying himself.

"Oh, my heart." Eddie rested his hand on his chest once again, laying the book flat on his stomach, looking up at you through his hair. "Who knew this lil' sweetheart would turn into such a dork when he grew up?" He could barely get through the complete sentence without laughing. You tugged his hair lightly, snorting at his winced reaction. "Look who's talking, Eddie the Banished."

His face suddenly hardened jokingly, a finger pointing straight into your face, "Don't disrespect the dungeon master, otherwise you'll get—" You suddenly felt afraid of the mischievous look in his eyes.

"—murdered by Vecna himself!" He only cackled as you screeched away from his hands wrapping them around your waist, lifting you up and off the bed to pin you to the wall.

"Eddie, if you drop me, I will-" He kissed you. "D- don't interrupt-" He kissed you again, holding it longer than the previous one. You groaned softly into his lips, relaxing and letting yourself slide down the wall and to the ground with Eddie's help. He only pulled away for air, moving his hands to your wrists and pinning them above your head. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you stared him down.

His trance was broken by his cheeky grin, instantly giving you a bad feeling about what he was going to say…

"I love you." He muttered quickly.

… Only to be proven utterly wrong.

You felt your face heat up, a goofy smile breaking out on your face. "Wow, Munson, you just made it gayer." You chuckled through intervals of nervousness and intense elation.

"Say it baaaack." Eddie said in a warning tone, dropping his hands from yours to grasping both the sides of his face. "Or Vecna..."

You finally gave in and laughed wholeheartedly, "Okay, yeah, yeah, I love you too." Eddie's signature smile grew slowly on his face, as he inched closer.

"You mean it, right?"

"I mean it."

⊱───── ❝ thank you for reading! ❞ ─────⊰

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devilsjacket · 2 years

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Nsfw warning!

Eddie Munson x Male reader

Eddie Munson’s hair was made to be pulled, it was long and flowed so nicely down his back it was almost a struggle to stop yourself from wrapping your fingers around the beautiful curls and yanking as hard as you could. Eddie loved it and never told you to stop, he loved the burning sensation his scalp got after every tug, he loved the way it made him feel dirty, like he was a slut.

Only you were allowed to know such things about him and in all honesty it was such a dirty secret you know it made him feel filthy.

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male y/n #x male reader #male y/n #male reader #male reader smut #drabble #imagine

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penmansparadise · 2 years

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Eddie Munson ~ Sonnet 18

*I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO THE GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Tall Male!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mild language

a/n: If I told you about the kind of week I've been having you would probably not believe me. But before I get into that, here it is, the Eddie Munson x Male!Reader requested from my Wattpad. As you all know, I was traveling. Well, the good news is I arrived safely. The bad news is literally days after arriving, I get COVID. I mean, it has been a whole whirlwind. So, now I'm going through the worst part of this and have been feeling like I got hit by a train. So, in short, I'm fighting for my life. Anyway, I hope that everyone enjoys this one and can forgive me for taking so damn long to post it. My next post will be a Steve Harrington oneshot! As always, thank you all for the support!!!

Ms. O’Donnell droned on about Shakespeare and his impact on literature as you twirled your pencil between your fingers. Usually, you paid attention. In every class, you were an A+ student and were even projected to graduate in the top ten percent of your class. But when you got to Ms. O’Donnell’s class, things were different. Although you enjoyed Shakespeare’s works, your attention was captured by something much more interesting – a head full of perfectly sculpted ringlets and a denim vest that looked like it had been to war and back. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and propped your head in your hand. Sitting just a few seats in front of you was Eddie Munson, the kind of man that would make anyone want to write poetry.

Since elementary school, you had shared at least one class with Eddie. Which meant that your crush on the boy started at a very young age. But he never gave you a second glance. You had always assumed that, just like everyone else, he believed you to be the quiet weird kid simply because you had good grades and paid attention in school. But he didn’t know the real you. The guy who drove a little too fast while blasting hard rock through the speakers of your beat-up Honda CRV. Eddie didn’t know the guy who spent an hour every day after school lifting weights to sculpt his body into that of the Greek Gods. Eddie didn’t know a thing. And instead of embarrassing yourself and making the first move, you resorted to side-long glances while passing the boy in the halls. That would just have to do. Because despite your confidence, you just couldn’t bring yourself to ask Eddie on a date, let alone tell him how you felt about him.

You continued twirling your pencil as you stared at Eddie. It didn’t matter how many times you saw the boy; you always found something new. It was like a game. And you were so invested in discovering something new about Eddie that you almost missed Ms. O’Donnell’s statement.

“You will have the week to complete the project before presenting it next Monday.”

Everyone let out a collective sigh that earned a chuckle from Ms. O’Donnell.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, waving the class off. “But, lucky for all of you, this is a partner’s project.”

At that statement, you groaned while the rest of the class perked up in their seats. You were used to doing group projects by yourself, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed it. Ms. O’Donnell smirked.

“But you don’t get to choose your buddy. I do.”

The hushed chatter silenced as everyone stared at Ms. O’Donnell. She walked to her desk and picked up a piece of paper. Then, slowly but surely, she began to work her way around the classroom, pairing people together. Here and there, a student would grumble in disdain at their partner while you waited in anticipation. Then, finally, Ms. O’Donnell looked up from her paper and looked right at you.

“Mr. Y/N, you’ll be paired with Mr. Munson.”

It was as if time had stopped. Your heart began to beat like a race horse, and your body felt numb. In all the years you two had been in school together, you had never been paired to work together. Eddie had never even asked you for help on an assignment. You turned to face him, only to be met with his big brown eyes. He gave you a small smile, and you were a goner. You knew that there was no way you could work with Eddie. You could hardly pay attention in the classroom, and there was absolutely no way you’d be able to focus when it was just the two of you.

“Now,” Ms. O’Donnell began regaining your attention, “you’ll be discussing a piece of Shakespeare’s work. It can be a play or a poem. I don’t care. All I ask is that you make it interesting and have fun.”

With that, students began to rise from their seats to move by their assigned partners. But you didn’t move. Instead, you were trying to figure out a way to get around working one on one with Eddie. But while you were trying to formulate a plan, Eddie had already made his way to your desk. Your eyes were trained on the tile floor in front of you until a pair of beat-up white Reebok sneakers came into view.

“Y/N, right?” He asked.

You raised your head to look at him and had to reel in your emotions. For years you admired the boy from afar, and now he was standing directly in front of you. He was even more amazing up close. You could see little beauty marks on his fair skin that you never saw before. You were able to see the messy stitching on his denim vest and knew for a fact now that he did it himself. His lips were turned upward as he waited for you to answer him, but all you did was nod, unable to create a sentence. Eddie chuckled nervously as he grabbed a chair and pulled it up to your desk.

“I don’t think we’ve ever really been introduced before. I’m Eddie,” he said, straddling the chair.

You stared at him for a split second before finally gathering your wits and squaring your shoulders, your normal confidence returning.

“We’ve had at least one class together since elementary school,” you said, leaning in a little with a playful smirk. “I know who you are.”

Your sudden change of demeanor surprised Eddie, and you could see his cheeks turn a bright crimson.

“Right,” he said, nodding a little too furiously, “right.”

Neither of you said anything for a minute. Instead, you shared nervous glances and awkward giggles.

“So, do you-”

“I was thinking-”

Both you and Eddie spoke at the same time before falling into a fit of laughter. The sound was something you could never get used to, but you wanted to hear it over and over again. Eddie ran a hand through his curls and gestured toward you.

“You go first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a light chuckle, “go ahead.”

You leaned back in your chair and folded your hands behind your head, stretching a little. Eddie’s eyes fell onto your toned arms, and you smirked.

“I was just gonna say I think we should do a poem.” You shrugged and sat up straight again. “It’ll be a little easier.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, his stare finally moving to meet yours. “Do you have one in mind?”

You chuckled.

“No, I don’t.”

Eddie looked down at his tapping foot before finally looking up at you and saying, “What about Sonnet 18?”

You froze for a second.

“You read poetry?”

Eddie didn’t cross you as the poetry reading type. He liked loud music and played the guitar in a metal band, and smoked marijuana. He wasn’t soft. He was hard and a little rough around the edges. Yet, he was suggesting a Shakespeare poem for your project. Eddie scratched his head and nodded.

“Yeah,” he began, “my uncle he, um, he has a few…poetry books?”

You raised your eyebrows in question.

“Poetry books?”

Eddie shook his head.

“Just, never mind. What do you think? Sonnet 18? You know, ‘shall I compare thee to a summer’s day’?”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled just slightly as you examined the boy in front of you. His head was dipped down a little, his messy curls covering most of the blush that graced his cheeks. He looked at you with eyes as innocent as a child, and all you could do was smile.

“Okay,” you said softly. “We can meet up today at my house if you want.”

You could almost visibly see Eddie relax at your suggestion. A wide grin spread across his face as he sat up a little straighter.

“Sounds perfect.”

It was cute how nervous he was around you. You wanted to make him blush almost as much as you wanted to hear him laugh again. Anything to see his bright brown eyes light up. So, you wrote down your address on a piece of paper, ripped it from your notebook, and handed it to Eddie. Your fingers just barely brushed over his as you gave him the paper. You could feel your heart jolt a little in your chest, and when you looked at Eddie, that beautiful blush was back on his cheeks, and you chuckled. The bell rang, and you gathered your things before turning to Eddie.

“I’ll see you later,” you said with a wink, then showed yourself out of the classroom.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. All you could think about was how later that day, you’d be alone with Eddie. There wouldn’t be a teacher or a class full of bored teenagers to act as a buffer. It would just be the two of you and the nagging urge to kiss is very plump lips. When the final bell of the day rang, you were nearly running to your car. Nervous energy was running through you like blood pumping through your veins. When you reached your car, you got in, turned it on, and turned up the radio. AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” began blasting through the speakers just as you started to back out. People turned toward the sound of the music, and you managed to ignore most of their gawking until you turned and locked eyes with Eddie from across the parking lot. He was standing next to his van, and even from where you were, you could see his jaw a little slack as he stared at you while AC/DC thundered through your speakers. A smile tugged at your lips, and you just turned away before driving off toward your house.

By the time you reached your house, your anxiety was almost eating you alive. Despite your best efforts at relaxing on your drive home, nothing worked. So, you did the only other thing you could do. You changed into a pair of gym shorts, opened up your garage, flicked on your radio, and began lifting your weights. It was the only mind-numbing activity you could think to do to stop yourself from going crazy while you waited. After the first set of reps, you ended up pulling your top over your head, leaving you in just your shorts. Sweat glistened on your bare chest as you continued your workout. “The Number of the Beast” by Iron Maiden began to blare through the tiny speakers on your boombox, pushing you even harder than before. You went rep after rep until suddenly you heard the sound of a car door shutting. When you turned toward the sound, you were greeted by Eddie’s wide eyes. You grabbed a towel and wiped off your torso as you approached him.

“Holy fuck,” Eddie whispered a little too loudly, earning a light chuckle from you.

A smirk pulled at your lips. What you would do to hear him whisper that very same phrase into your ear over and over again. You wrapped the towel around your neck and held an end with each hand.

“What was that?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally said, “Nothing.”

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, uh, I didn’t say anything.”

You stood in front of Eddie for another moment, letting the late afternoon sun and sweat on your chest create a shimmer effect on your skin. Eddie’s eyes traveled down the length of your body again, taking their time as they carefully examined every inch of exposed skin. You smiled as he deliberately checked you out.

“You want to head inside?” You asked, gaining Eddie’s full attention again.

He nodded before you turned and led him to your room. When you reached your small space, you walked straight to your dresser, leaving Eddie to gawk in the doorway.

“You can sit wherever,” you said, but Eddie didn’t make a move to sit. Instead, he did tiny circles as he took in his surroundings.

You didn’t lead on at school that you were anything but a good student. You didn’t advertise your music taste or show off your body, so by just looking at you, no one would know that you were a metalhead who took pride in his appearance. But once they walked into your bedroom, it would become evident. Hanging on your walls were posters ranging from Motley Crüe to Judas Priest, and sitting on your desk was a paper detailing a pretty strict workout regimen. After you grabbed a shirt from your dresser and your textbook from your desk, you turned and found Eddie sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I didn’t know you were into this kind of music,” he said, turning to watch you pull the shirt over your head. “Or that you were like,” he gestured toward you, “in great shape.”

You laughed, took a seat next to him, and leaned in a little.

“You also never asked.”

Eddie dipped his head, and that cute blush crept back onto his cheeks, making you smile. You so badly wanted to just grab him and kiss every inch of his red face, but you didn’t. Instead, you opened your textbook to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18.

“Okay,” you began reaching down into your backpack for your notebook and pencil, “so I went ahead and began the analysis of the poem. I figured I’d just do the analysis, and maybe you could worry about the poster board? Or whatever way we’re going to present the poem.”

You put your pencil between your teeth and began flipping through your notes when Eddie chuckled.

“What?” You said, the word barely coming out audible with your pencil still in your mouth.

Eddie reached forward and placed a cautious hand on yours, and your breath caught in your throat, the pencil falling between you two. It was as if time stopped altogether as a series of shocks ran through your body. His hand was warm, and his fingers were rough, but he was soft and gentle. Every nerve ending in your body was on high alert as you stared into his eyes, brown like the sunlit bark of an oak tree. You could have stayed that way forever. Just sitting there in a comfortable silence with Eddie’s thumb drawing lazy circles on your hand. It didn’t matter that you had a project to do. All you wanted was to be with Eddie in every way imaginable. Eddie’s thumb stilled, and he gave your hand a light squeeze.

“I know you’re used to doing all the work by yourself, but I actually did some of the analysis too.”

You couldn’t remove your eyes from his face. He was so close. All you wanted to do was trace his every feature from the arch of his brow to the curve of his lips. Eddie never let go of your hand as he reached into his bag and pulled out a ratty notebook. He flipped a few pages before finally releasing his light hold on you and picked up the notebook with both hands. Eddie cleared his throat, and you could feel a shift in the air. His throat bobbled as he swallowed several times, and his hands looked as if they were shaking just slightly. He looked at you briefly before returning his eyes to his notebook.

“Sonnet 18 compares a young man to a summer day,” he said before swallowing again and looking up at you.

Your eyebrows raised, and a playful smirk pulled at your lips.

“You don’t say.”

Eddie gave you a knowing look.

“I wasn’t done.”

You chuckled and put your hands up in defense.

“Sorry,” you said, crossing your arms, “by all means, please continue.”

Eddie gripped his notebook a little tighter and squared his shoulders.

“Shakespeare wrote this poem to describe this, uh, this guy he likes. It was kind of like a,” he tilted his head back and forth, “confession of sorts. He doesn’t just say this guy he likes is handsome because that would be too boring. So, he says he’s beautiful like a summer day.”

Eddie shook his head, his curls bouncing around his face.

“No,” he said firmly before placing his notebook down and looking directly at you. “This guy is more beautiful than that. He glows brighter than the sun and lights up any room. He hides from everyone even though he’s actually really cool and hardcore. This guy, he doesn’t let things or people strip him of his beauty despite what they may say.”

Your lips parted as your heart began to beat so rapidly that you were almost certain it was going to beat right out of your chest. But you couldn’t say anything because Eddie huffed a sigh and continued.

“This guy is someone you can watch from afar for years because you’re too scared to make your move. You’re too scared to even say two words to him, but you secretly hope every day that he’ll look your way. He’s someone you can fall in love with before you even know a single thread of information about him.”

Your stomach was doing somersaults as you stared at Eddie. He was fidgeting with a frayed edge of his denim vest. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached forward and placed your hand over his to still his busy fingers.

“May I interject?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie nodded.

“He’s also incredibly adorable, especially when he’s nervous. You know, this guy that Shakespeare is talking about.”

You gave a playful smile that Eddie reciprocated.

“Right, of course.”

You leaned in a little.

“He’s also creative and funny and smarter than he gives himself credit for.”

A hint of red blanketed Eddie’s face, and he looked down. You placed a finger under his chin and forced him to look up at you. The two of you just held the other’s gaze. You moved your hand to brush his hair behind his ear and let your hand linger for a split second longer than necessary. Your eyes darted down to look at his perfectly rounded lips. His tongue slid over the bottom one, and a tiny rush of electricity zinged through you.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Eddie asked, causing you to look back into his eyes.

“W-what?”

“Because,” Eddie began, scooting a smidgen closer, making the gap between you two almost nonexistent, “if you’re second guessing yourself, just know I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your body felt numb at his words. For years you had dreamt of being in this exact position. Your hand on his and his face mere inches from yours. It was surreal, and you didn’t want to wait any longer. So, you leaned down and pressed your lips onto Eddie’s. He froze, body going rigid with surprise before melting into the kiss. Your lips moved against Eddie’s slow, but the kiss progressively grew urgent. Your hands traveled down the length of Eddie’s back until you were pulling him onto your lap. His legs straddled you, and his hands gripped your toned shoulders. Eddie’s arms snaked their way around your neck, deepening the kiss.

Every part of you was buzzing, and every place Eddie’s fingers grazed was lit aflame. You wrapped your arms around Eddie’s torso and, without breaking the kiss, fell back onto your bed. Eddie let out a small yelp and released your lips. You moved your hands to cup the back of his thighs, and he hovered over you on his elbows.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you said, a little out of breath.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, “that makes two of us.”

A burst of confidence zipped through you, and you squeezed his legs.

“Oh, really?”

Eddie dropped his head into the crook of your neck, chuckling lightly before lifting it again to look at you.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I always thought you were cute, but today when,” he motioned to your walls, “I realized we have a lot more in common than I thought, the feelings only grew.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you.

“I’m glad you only like me because of my music taste.”

A smile spread across Eddie’s face.

“Hey,” he said, poking your chest playfully, “music has a lot more pull than you think.”

The two of you started to laugh again. The sight of Eddie straddling you and the low rumble of his laugh against your chest was that of a dream. You could stay in that position for a thousand lifetimes if possible. But you knew you had a project to do. So, you nodded toward your discarded notebooks.

“Should we get back to work?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, drawing the word out, “I was hoping we could go get dinner.” He tilted his head to the side. “Like on a date.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed.

Within a matter of a day, you were kissing the boy you had a crush on and getting asked out on a date by him. Eddie bit his bottom lip and shrugged nonchalantly.

“If you want, you know?”

You knew that he was trying to play off his anxiety, and you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips. You brushed his hair behind his ear again and cupped his cheek.

“I’d love to, Eddie.”

You planted a sweet kiss on his nose before he peeled himself off you. Neither of you bothered to clean up your notebooks, leaving them strewn on the floor. Instead, you followed Eddie out to his van and jumped into the passenger seat. Eddie got behind the wheel and started digging through his pockets for his keys. You looked over at him and furrowed your eyebrows.

“So, do you actually read poetry, or was this whole thing planned?”

Eddie pulled his keys out and shoved them into the ignition with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, no. I don’t know shit about Shakespeare. I was just trying to be romantic.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, nonetheless. Eddie leaned toward you with a smirk.

“Did it work?”

You tilted your head back and forth with an “Ehhh.”

Eddie threw his arms up but joined you when you started to laugh. You cupped his cheek and forced him to look at you again.

“I was joking. It was definitely very romantic.”

Eddie smiled so wide his eyes crinkled, and your heart jumped in your chest. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a long kiss before pulling back and allowing Eddie to drive off. Neither of you knew where you were going, but you didn’t care. As long as you were with Eddie, that’s all that mattered.

Tag List: @violetrainbow412-blog @tellmehows @pastel-abyss-x @lilliandanelle @ilovereadingfanfics @thatnerdana

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x male y/n #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom

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m0chaminx · 2 years

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Falling Asleep On Eddie Munson Headcannos

*•.¸♡Request : Would I be allowed to request being childhood friends with Eddie and falling asleep on top of him hcs while reader and Eddie both have crushes on eachother?? Thank you in advance and I hope this makes sense <33

*•.¸♡𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : None

*•.¸♡Paring : Eddie Munson x GN!reader

You didn't mean to but I mean, Eddie was so comfortable

School had exhausted you like it always did and Eddie offered to let you lay on him

He also put on a movie in the background and you were out

Eddie rested his arm against the armrest of the couch, chuckling softly to himself at the movie. He looked down at you, ready to make a stupid comment. He always did and you'd always slap his arm afterwards. Eddie smiled to himself, rolling his eyes softly as you slipped further down his chest as you slept.

Eddie ran his hand through your hair gently, trying not to get his rings caught

He turned the TV down slightly and leant his head back

He rested his other arm around you taking deep breaths as he fell asleep with you

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

#eddie munson #m0chaminx #eddie i love you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things headcanons #steve x eddie #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x male y/n #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x gn!reader

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cbkeats · 2 years

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⋆˙ Eddie Munson Headcannons!!!

summary: I love my dark, curly haired, nerd punks as much as the next idiot, but let me tell you exactly why; between sharing interests and personal space, here's a few things I think would come included with your Eddie Munson Boyfriend Pack™ :)

wc: 645 words, short n' sweet !

warnings/tags: sexual behavior implied but not explicit, gn!reader, fluff

⚘᠂ strong attempts on his part to clean / tidy up a bit before someone important to him comes over. things like gathering up any old dishes, bottles, or cans, emptying ashtrays and throwing dirty laundry into a more discreet spot to be dealt with later. maybe he makes his bed and makes sure all his drawers are closed, picks shit off the floors and makes sure whatever needs to be put back, is.

⚘᠂ it's a show that isn't actually all that necessary considering how long and how well he's been know, but it's sweet and welcome nonetheless.

⚘᠂ You’ll be carrying hair ties on your wrist if you don't already do so. Maybe you can even teach him how to take care of it lmao

⚘᠂ sitting on his lap (or vice versa?) for physical contact and also to provide a familiar weight that can keep him still. his fingers will still tap, and fiddle with things like the hem of your shirt or your own hands, but be careful because he will get handsy very quickly (it's the understimulated/bored ADHD needing instant gratification for me)

⚘᠂ sometimes you can sus out his more suggestive motivations by what rings are on which fingers (or more like which ones they're specifically Not on)

⚘᠂ it means enduring the sudden bursts of dancing and movement that possess him during the music he's listening to, fully jumping up and giving in, putting that hair to such good use

⚘᠂ mutually strong hugs!!!! hold him tight he'll hug you tighter! in good times it's more like a challenge or a joke; a "see how far we can get before someone injured their ribs" kind of thing, but in times of panic it can be grounding for both of you, a reminder that you're both still kickin’.

⚘᠂ He can’t rollerskate worth a shit. doesn't really matter because it's not his scene nor his music - but you can drag him into a rink anyway.

- (take it as you will: either u make him, and he manages to pick it up, or you circle around as he watches from the wall- all holding hands and smiles with sudden cocky bursts of competitiveness or showboating, and nervous near-falling when transitioning on and off of the rink

⚘᠂ but speaking of music: sitting in on his rehearsals, he might sound terrible, it's his house shows and small gigs that matter tho and you make yourself loud and known, biggest fan #1

⚘᠂ he's the type to crowd you randomly before backing up after surprising you to gauge ur reaction. it just doesn't occur to him to be conscious of it, but he'll continue his theatrics when he can tell you're caught up.

- he's the type to go for back hugs and resting his chin on your shoulder (whileee rocking back and forth just to be annoying)

⚘᠂ i wish so hard that lord of the rings came out at this time so i can say: please watch lord of the rings with him he would love it it would be great. but i can't, you can't - im gonna cry real

⚘᠂ him skipping school or leaving early or during lunch to go find you at work or at home (also didn't fully communicate)- leaving campus

⚘᠂ that handkerchief isn't in his pocket for no reason, babe. check the tapes, there's cuffs on his wall. he's been outcast he's a little fucked up is a little high-chasing and he's got his painful skin markings - he likes it! let's do it

⚘᠂ chances are he's never seen the ocean, the biggest body of water would have been a lake, but i think as someone who's lived on a coast their whole life i'd love to see him see it. he might now how to swim.. even if he doesn't, he'd have fun getting goofy on the beach, playing with the sand, throwing water, droplets off his curls

a/n: first post!! it's not my branding and a little bit short, but i wanted to start somewhere - big things are cooking up! hope you enjoy and your time is really appreciated!! written with the help of @somnichron ⋆˙⊹ .

#kit writes #eddie my beloved #eddie munson x reader #x gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things 4 x reader #x reader headcanons #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male y/n

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eddiesfairy · 2 years

Note

🐈‍⬛ short fluff blurb — “this sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “...i have been trying to do that for three years now.”

with eddie munson?

all it took — Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 1.1k

Summer finally arrived in Hawkins and you couldn’t be happier. As much as you love winter, there was just something magical about the summer breeze and the late night drives you would usually share with your best friend, Eddie.

The road to Lovers Lake isn’t that far, but it always feels like a little road trip when Eddie’s music is softly playing in the background and the windows are wide open, letting the warm summer breeze flow through your hair. You put your arm outside the window, mimicking the way waves wash over the sand at the beach and you smile, remembering the time you and Eddie spontaneously went to California for a best friend vacation three years ago. When you told Eddie you haven’t been to the beach, one thing led to another and he surprised you for your birthday with a road trip and vacation in Cali.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen the beach? Have you never put your feet in the sand, or felt the cold water almost freezing you to death?” he had said with a stunned expression. You nodded and laughed, “Eddie it’s not like I haven’t seen the beach in pictures and stuff, I just haven’t physically been to the beach. We live in Indiana, you know.” you added and couldn’t help but smile at his floored expression. He shook his head and grabbed you by your arms, “Listen to me right now. I’m making you this promise. You will see the beach this year. I’ll make sure of it.” he assured you and your heart swelled at the gesture.

Which probably brought you to where you are now, daydreaming about that vacation and the realisation that you’ll never be able to forget it. Eddie notices you’ve gotten significantly quieter and his hand goes to your thigh, lightly tapping on your leg, a small gesture to make sure you’re okay. You meet his gaze and give him a bright smile, before he breaks eye contact to focus on the road, turning left to the lake.

When you arrive, Eddie is the first to jump out of the van as he skips to the back where he takes out the blankets and picnic basket you asked him to buy after he arrived at the picnic with a bucket. Eddie takes note that you haven’t exited the van and he leans to your side before he’s playfully yelling at you, “Excuse me your royal highness, please get out of the chariot and help me set up the blankets. You’re not getting out of this one again.” he chuckles and holds his hand out for you to take. You snap out of your daydream before taking his hand and exiting the van, slightly hopping out of the van. You walk with Eddie towards the blankets and basket and realisation suddenly hits you that this looks a lot like a date. And the fact that you’ve been doing this for three years? Every first day of summer. You shake the feeling off when you both sit down along the lake and you take a moment to admire the view. You really love coming here, spending time with Eddie.

You wonder if he’s ever felt that this was a date. Did he ever see you as anything more than his best friend?

You look back to Eddie and see that he’s already looking at you, before he quickly looks away and clears his throat. You smile to yourself and you feel your cheeks grow hot. You break the sudden tension by taking one of the sandwiches you made, offering it to Eddie. He gladly takes it and you take one for yourself before looking back at the lake.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” you say and from the corner of your eye you see Eddie looking at you before responding, “The prettiest.” you turn to look at Eddie and he is now unapologetically staring at you, completely focussed on you. You raise your brow, “Eddie? It sounds like you’re flirting with me.” you say and laugh softly, but Eddie just looks at you and rests his chin in his palm, raising his shoulders slightly, “Well I have been trying to do that for three years now, sweetheart.” he says and you freeze the motion of your sandwich to your mouth, putting it down on the plate next to you before speaking up, “Are you joking with me, Eds?” you ask and your heart nearly flips upside down when he shakes his head no.

Eddie stands up from the blanket, dusting off the crumbs that fell from the sandwich he was eating, and looks down at you, “After our trip to California I knew I liked you, and every summer we continue to come here I plan to ask you out, and every summer I think I have to wait, or I get nervous and chicken out. So hopefully this has been the final year of planning.” he laughs a little and sits down again, now closer to you. “So, sweetheart. Will you finally do your lovesick best friend the honour of becoming his?” Eddie says as he takes your hands in his, and the butterflies in your stomach nearly burst out of your chest.

You give Eddie the biggest smile you can manage, “Yes. one hundred times yes.” you say and give him a big hug, nearly toppling him over in the process. You both break out in a fit of laughter as Eddie recovers from your hug attack and smiles down at you, giving your nose a tiny kiss.

“Thank god, I don’t know if I could’ve waited another year.”

a/n: i got a bit carried away and i think this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever done.

#✎ eddiesfairy follower celebration ✦ ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ 𓂃 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x nb!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x male y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddiesfairy blurb #eddiesfairy fluff

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licensedqueerio · 1 year

Text

Part One - The Hallucination

I haven't posted in ages, so have something I've been working on for a bit. This is a Eddie Munson ghost AU, where he was in fact a cult leader, some stuff went wrong, and ultimately lead to his death. Now he's trying to fix it.

So far, this is a three part story, I hope this first part interests you enough to keep reading. Happy holidays, and Happy New Years. Last post of 2022, whoo, thank you everyone who stuck with me through the year!

(Side note, there's a random character thrown in. I promise he's relevant later in the story)

—

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Male!Reader

Warnings: some horror stuff, character death mentioned, swearing, mention of drugs

Request Here

—

"Why do I have to go?" You sighed tiredly as you glared at the other three boys wrapped up in varsity jackets. Really, out of the four of you, you didn't understand why you'd been elected to go and check out the supposed 'haunted' trailer park. It was apparently a town legend.

"Because you're the skeptic," Mason, a boy on the team and your friend, said with a casual shrug. "Who better to go check out this place? Maybe it'll finally get you to believe the freaky shit that happened here."

You sighed again, "no matter how many times you say it, I'm not buying the satanic ritualistic sacrifice gone wrong," you droned, "it isn't haunted, I have so many other things I could be doing right now instead of freezing my dick off and trespassing."

"And breaking and entering," Mason completed, and frowned at the looks he received, "what?" He complained, “whatever. Do it, don't do it. You literally have nothing better to do," he claimed.

He was right of course, but you weren't about to admit that to him. You sighed and stuffed your hands back in your pockets, the cold was making them go numb. "Fifty bucks?" You asked.

Mason grinned, his cheeks dimpled, "yep. Fifty bucks, as agreed. Bring back a souvenir as proof."

Bringing back a 'souvenir' sounded like you were begging a ghost to come haunt you. You didn't say this either. You sighed and wondered how you'd gotten here, but also didn't voice that thought because you knew what Mason would say; some smartass answer like 'a car', because he was an asshole.

"Fine," you relented and snatched the flashlight out of his hands. "I fucking hate you," you muttered under your breath and stomped to the fence that sectioned the trailer park off. You got past it with relative ease and held the flashlight like a weapon as you walked through the place. It felt like a graveyard.

Fifty bucks was not worth it, you should have negotiated for more. You pulled your jacket tighter around your body as you searched for the correct trailer you were supposed to be rooting around in.

The story you were told was this; a satanic cult leader tried to murder a cheerleader in some sick ritual a handful of years ago in '83 and it had backfired. The two were both found dead inside the trailer. The inhabitants of the trailer park all soon moved away, including the boys guardian. It's been empty ever since.

Last year, apparently a girl had dared venture into the trailer and claimed she saw the undead cult leader.

When you were told this story, obviously you scoffed at it. Ghosts weren't real, and neither were satanic cult leaders. Not in Hawkins Indiana. It was a ridiculous idea to entertain.

But here you were.

You shined the light onto the trailer and squinted at the old number hanging on it. You had arrived at your destination.

You walked up the three stairs to the front door, the old wood creaked beneath your feet and you prayed they weren't too rotten and we're able to support your weight.

You turned the doorknob, unsurprised to find it unlocked. You pushed it open slowly and grimaced at the creak. You slipped inside and a punched out noise escaped your lips as you shone the light across the small trailer.

Baseball caps decorated the top of the walls, while shelves carried an assortment of mugs, all appearing to be different shapes and colors.

A layer of dust coated everything across the room, and the ceiling had a disturbing looking tear across it, with a dark stain overlaying it. Maybe mold had done it, or water damage. But directly below it was blood, stained into the carpet.

One minute you were staring at the stain of blood, and the next, you were there; in the past, staring down at the two bodies as they bled out.

Soft brown eyes snapped up to you as the boy laid dying on the carpet, his hand valiantly trying to stop the blood pouring from his neck.

Around you, you made out the face of a curly haired boy who stood in a circle with six others.

It did look like a cult.

"What are you doing here?" The dying boy mouthed, but you heard his low whispered voice directly in your ear, startling you back to the present. You whipped around to stare at the empty space beside you.

You exhaled slowly, reassuring yourself that no one was there and you were safe. You were just paranoid from all the stories you'd heard. That's all that was going on.

You shook yourself and continued to look around. Other than the blood stained on the floor it looked like a normal home. The furniture hadn't been touched, and as you continued to walk deeper into the trailer, you noticed everything on the counters had been untouched. Medication bottles, scattered papers and mail, and forgotten dishes.

You urged your feet forward into the kitchen area. Everything smelled…old, and stale. It made sense, considering how long ago everything had gone down. You were surprised to see pots of what had once been food still on the stove and dirty dishes in the sink. Nothing had changed.

"Get out," a malicious voice hissed from directly behind him.

"What the fuck!" You snapped and whirled around, shining your light from left to right, but no one was there. You were going crazy, it was official.

Wonderful. Mason owed you a hell of a lot more than fifty dollars.

You passed the kitchen, not keen on seeing moldy food or maggots.

You soon found yourself in a bedroom. It looked like it had belonged to a teenage boy once. Band and horror movie posters covered every inch of the walls. Nothing about it screamed cult leader. Maybe the metal posters could be taken the wrong way, but his taste in music didn't make him a cult leader.

You frowned as you cautiously stepped forward, sweeping the room further. There wasn't much space for things, but the two desks and the single drawer in the room were covered with things. Small figurines, books with obscure titles—a few Tolkien works, but others seemed darker. The strange thing was, nothing had dust on it. The room was in excellent condition and still looked lived in.

Directly in front of you, hanging in front of a wide mirror, was the most beautiful guitar you had perhaps ever laid eyes on. You stepped forward and reached out to touch it.

"Get out!" The same voice repeated, Louder this time and you dropped your hand.

"Fuck you," you muttered under your breath before you could catch yourself. Great. Now you were talking to your hallucinations.

"You're brave." Mocking laughter echoed in your head, flossing through your ears. "Take the guitar," the voice suddenly urged.

You paused as you stared at said guitar. Why would you listen to a strange voice in your head? It didn't sound smart, in fact, it was probably the dumbest idea you'd ever had.

You reached out and carefully pulled the guitar down, dust sticking to your hands. You looked down at it and shine the light on it to get a better look. It was red and black, and the strings looked to still be in good shape.

It would make a good souvenir to bring back to Mason, and as you turned around to leave, you saw a boy standing in the corner with a grin on his lips.

When you did a double take to see if he was real, you found nothing.

Strange.

You held the guitar by the neck and quickly hurried out of the old trailer. You weren't scared, but you didn't want to spend any more time there than you had to.

Mason and the others whooped with joy when you returned, though they quieted down once they realized you had brought back a souvenir. Almost like they hadn’t planned on you actually going through with it.

“Here,” you said and held out the guitar to Mason, “it’s still in decent condition, might have to change the strings though,” you said and shrugged, “I’m never going back there again, it’s disgusting. There’s still blood on the floor,” you said with a shudder.

“Holy shit,” Mason whispered, but immediately shied away from the guitar, “oh no, you keep that. Bad luck,” he said wisely. He dug his hand into his jean pocket and pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill, “here. Now come on, you can buy us dinner,” he said with a grin.

“You’re delusional,” you replied with a laugh, you looked down at the guitar, and for a second, you could almost feel cold fingers wrapping around your own. You shook it off though when one of your teammates complained about being cold and climbed back into the car.

You ended up buying an extremely late night lunch anyway before heading home. You snuck back in through your window so your parents wouldn’t know you’d been sneaking around and hid the guitar in your closet. You would make up a lie for it’s sudden appearance tomorrow, but now you just wanted to sleep.

You fell face first into your bed and passed out.

—

There were fingers trailing across your cheek. Gently grazing your skin with featherlight pressure. It sent a chill down your spine and an involuntary shudder racked your body. The touch halted, before it disappeared entirely.

Later, you chalked it up to a dream, that you’d still been sleeping and had a strange dream that involved you and a stranger. Despite that, it weighed on the back of your mind all day and led to a split lip and bloody nose from taking a baseball to the face.

Lucky for you, this meant you were able to go home early, which you did gladly.

Then things got weird.

You walked into your bathroom, a wad of toilet paper pressed to your nose to stop the profuse bleeding. Your eyes still stung with tears brought on by the pain and with a frustrated growl you wiped them away. You missed the reflection of a boy standing behind you.

You sighed and pulled the toilet paper away from your face. You grimaced at the bruises that had already formed and sighed. You bent your head and scrubbed the blood off your hand and then wiped it off your face, careful not to aggravate your wounds.

You lifted your head back up and a startled yelp escaped your lips at the translucent boy standing over your shoulder. With a racing heart you whipped around but saw nothing but the wall. You exhaled sharply and muttered, “what the fuck?” Before you wiped your face and tried to shake the feeling of terror that had flooded you.

You leaned forward to examine the mirror and swiped a hand across it. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, or the tears in your eyes. Or a ghost. You shook your head and dispelled such silly thoughts. Ghosts didn't exist.

“Your pretty face got messed up,” a chilling voice whispered into your ear, almost as if it could hear your thoughts and had to prove you wrong. You spun around again with wide eyes and only saw a flash of translucent clothing before it was gone.

You quickly fled the bathroom with a pounding heart. You hurried down the hallway where the voice taunted, "don't be scared, darling."

You made it into your room and slammed the door shut. You pressed your back against the painted white door and heaved for breath through your panic. You tried to reassure yourself that you were fine, that you were tired and needed some sleep was all. Everything you heard was a sleep deprivation hallucination.

"Oh sweetheart, a closed door can't stop me," the same voice whispered in your ear. You held your breath as ice cold fingers grazed the back of your neck and down your spine. You could feel the chill through your shirt.

Mocking laughter filled your ears, and it got louder and louder. It overlapped itself until it was a chaotic cacophony of harsh noise, you had to slam your hands over your ears in a desperate, vain attempt to drown it out. It didn't work of course.

Your ears rang that entire night. You laid in bed, paranoid as the shadows of your room seemed to jump out at you. But you would have rather died than risk getting up and shutting them back on. So, you suffered through the night until the sun came up.

—

"You look like shit," Mason said, accompanied by a low whistle. "You good, man?"

No, you were not good. Your nose bridge was bruised and it had spread to your eyes. It hurt, and you still couldn't completely hear. Oh, and you were exhausted due to your restless night.

"Fuck off," you mumbled and dropped your head onto the cafeteria table. It was so loud, you were beginning to regret coming to school. "I feel like shit. Fucking face hurts you fuckwad," you grumbled under your breath.

Mason only laughed and clapped a hand on your shoulder, "I wasn't the one to hit you in the face, that honor falls on Sinclair," he responded.

"What did I do?" Sinclair asked as he sat down. He was a senior, two years older than you.

"What didn't you do," a new voice snorted.

"You busted Y/N's face up," Mason responded. "He looks like shit. Shame, his looks were the only thing that saved his shining personality."

You lifted your head, intending to punch him in the shoulder before you violently startled when you made eye contact with the boy besides Sinclair. You stared unblinking at the head of curly hair, disbelieving. What the fuck.

"Dude," Mason said, "what's wrong with you?" He asked with a frown.

"I have to— I have to go, I'm gonna, I'm gonna go," you stammered out. You nearly face planted when your foot got caught on the table's bench, but Mason grabbed your arm to steady you. You said nothing and instead tugged your arm away from him and hurried out of the cafeteria.

He had been there. The boy with curly hair was there when that kid died. He had been standing in that circle, watching as he bled out. What the fuck.

"Scared of Dustin?" The chilling voice breathed in your ear, and you stumbled. You caught yourself on the wall and ignored the looks you had received. You choked on your breath as you shoved the door open and stepped outside.

"Kids harmless," the voice taunted, "don't be scared, darling," it continued, sending a chill down your spine.

"Fuck off," you snapped and ran to the field, then past it and into the trees. You didn't know where you were going, you were just trying to outrun the voice.

"Ouch, that's not very nice," it hissed.

Suddenly, you felt something in front of your leg at the same time something shoved you from behind. You tripped and flying to meet the ground, landing on your front and wheezing for breath. "Fuck," you ground and rolled onto your back. You sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm your hammering heart.

"Get up."

You flinched and sat up instantly. You whipped your head around and tried to look for whoever was speaking. "Show yourself!" You demanded, "who the fuck are you!? Just leave me alone!" You shouted and clambered to your feet, brushing the dead leaves off your body and from your hair.

"No," the voice whispered, drifting in through one ear, then the other.

You flinched away and slammed your hands over your ears, "then go fuck yourself," you snarled and whirled around and stomped back the way you came. A chilling presence on your back alerted you to your doom half a second too late. You went sprawling on your front once more.

"You piece of shit," you groaned into the dirt.

"You aren't being nice, darling," the voice cooed, "haven't you figured it out yet? No? Well, you'll figure it out soon enough," it said and disappeared.

You stayed on the ground for half a second longer before you shoved yourself to your feet. You sighed and brushed more of the leaves off of yourself. You were going insane. That was fun. Even worse, you had talked to your hallucinations and it had responded, which was vaguely terrifying but you were much too tired to deal with it.

—

You got little more than an hour of sleep that night and the bruises on your face seemed to have only gotten worse, which was just great.

"What happened yesterday?" Mason immediately asked when you sat at the desk besides him. "You freaked then disappeared. And you look like shit again," he said before sighing, "I'm worried."

"Don't be, I'm fine," you responded. "Just having trouble sleeping."

Mason narrowed his eyes, "okay," he said slowly. "If you need anything, let me know, yeah? Or I can hook you up with some stuff to help you sleep," he offered.

"Naughty naughty, darling. Friends with dealers?"

You flinched and looked over your shoulder, but like always, nothing was there. God you needed to sleep. "Yeah, do that. I'll stop by your place after school," you said before he could ask what was wrong.

Mason sighed. But he nodded and turned his head to the front of the room when the teacher walked in.

You dutifully copied down notes without any incidents. Until, you looked back up at the board and saw him. He was leaning innocently against the board, staring at you with curious brown eyes.

Oh.

You stared back at him. Well. That's what you get for going into that damn trailer, you were so paranoid you were hallucinating a dead boy. Something was wrong with your head. Maybe your parents dropped you on your head when you were a baby, you'd have to ask.

"Mr. L/N!"

You jolted and looked at the teacher, "sorry. What?"

"I hated her," the boy said matter of factly, though he was on the other side of the room you could still hear him directly in your ear. "She kept failing me."

You glared at him, willing him to be silent. It was your hallucination wasn't it? It could at least shut up when someone was talking.

Speaking of which, you heard nothing the teacher said and looked at her blankly. "What?"

Giggles erupted around the room and you frowned.

"Mr. L/N if you're having trouble focusing in my class, perhaps you'd do better in the office," she suggested.

"What? No, no. I'm fine," you denied. "I'm fine, I'm focusing. Sorry."

"See? Bitch," the boy hissed and glared venomously at the woman.

You ignored him.

"Well then come up here and solve this problem. Let's go," she said sharply and held out a stick of chalk.

You stood up and made your way to the front of the room. You took the piece of chalk from her and stared at the math problem at the board. After a moment, you began to write.

"Well aren't you smart, darling?" The boy purred in your ear and you shuddered, but otherwise ignored him.

You hurried to finish the problem before quickly heading back to your seat, staring at your notebook instead of the boy.

"You good? You were spacing out there, man," Mason whispered.

"I'm fine," you snapped under your breath.

Mason impatiently sighed, "whatever, dude," he muttered.

You frowned at him before sighing too. Whatever was right. Once you got your head back on straight you'd apologize, until then, he would be fine, you had more pressing issues than his hurt feelings. Like the dead boy staring at you from across the room, distracting you for the rest of class.

—

You didn’t see the hallucination for the rest of the day, which you were thankful for, you were going to go crazy at this rate. You knew moving to this middle of nowhere town had been a mistake. But did your parents listen to you? Of course not.

You drove out to Mason’s house in the evening, cash in your pocket from hard earned money that you deserved to spend on…pharmaceuticals. And Mason was one of the only dealers in school, and because you were friends, he was usually willing to give you discounts on the goos stuff.

It was perfect.

You walked around and into his backward and knocked sharply on his window. It took two seconds before his curtains were being yanked open and he appeared in the glass. He smiled and pulled his window up and open, “hey.”

“Hi,” you responded, head tilted back so you could look at him, “how much?”

Mason held the sealed baggie out, “free of charge,” he answered and leaned against the windowsill. “I feel bad,” he explained.

You frowned and furrowed your brow at him. Why would he feel bad?

“Because we forced you to go into that trailer. Now you’re not sleeping, I feel bad,” Mason explained, “we shouldn’t have made you go in.”

You took the baggie from him, not one to turn down free goods, and stuffed it in your pocket before you looked back at him. “Not your fault I’m going crazy,” you laughed, like you weren’t genuinely concerned for your mental state. At his curious stare you continued, “I’m hallucinating. I think because of the lack of sleep, I keep seeing that dead kid,” you confessed and scratched your jaw.

“The…dead kid?” Mason slowly repeated and frowned, expression twisting, “...Munson, you mean? That was his trailer. Why…How do you know what he looks like? You have to know what he looks like in order to hallucinate him,” he said and frowned at you, like you had said something wrong.

“Oh, go on, sweetheart. I want to hear you explain this,” the boy—Munson said in your ear, you could feel his cold breath fan over your ear and shuddered. At least you hadn’t flinched this time.

How did you know what he looked like? You didn’t know him, had never seen any photos of him. So how would you hallucinate him? Was it even possible? Were you actually seeing Munson or did your brain just tell you it was Munson and you were hallucinating a stranger you saw on the street?

“He’s waiting,” Munson unhelpfully informed.

“In-in his room,” you quickly stammered and stepped back, away from his window and judgemental facial expressions, “I saw a picture in his room. It’s where I got the guitar. I’m gonna go,” you said and nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to get away, “thanks,” you belated called over your shoulder and hurried out of his yard and back to your car.

You made it down the street before ‘Munson’ reappeared with a “boo!” that scared you so bad you had to pull over and take a deep breath. You didn’t realize you were shaking until you took your hands off the steering wheel.

“I could have died,” you said and stared at the wheel. Was it suicide if your hallucination caused the wreck?

“It’s not as scary as the movies make it out to be,” Munson drawled from the passenger seat, and when you looked over, you saw him sitting there like it was perfectly normal. Like he wasn’t see through and a hallucination. He turned his head to stare at you, “hi.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. Munson raised a brow and pushed long, curly hair out of his face. After another second of this, he frowned and leaned forward, across the center divider and into your space.

He inspected you up close for a moment and in your bewilderment, you let him.

“So,” he said, “why can you see me? I’ve been trying to get people’s attention for the last three years and suddenly you come into my trailer and see me? Why?” He demanded.

“...you’re my hallucination, of course I can see you,” you said slowly, “I think I may be insane. Damn. My middle school bully was right.” You frowned at him.

Munson didn’t seem to find this funny and stretched a hand out and poked you in the forehead.

To both of your surprises, his finger made contact with your forehead, rather than travel through you.

“Huh,” Munson said and looked out at his hand, “I thought earlier was a fluke. That was weird, I can’t touch anyone, it’ll go through…” His voice trailed off and he poked you in the forehead again, “and I’m not a hallucination, sweetheart. I promise.” He faked a smile, “I’m a ghost. A very annoyed one. You’re not insane.”

You jerked away from his hand, “no, I’m definitely insane. You’re not a ghost. You can’t be a ghost, because ghosts aren’t real. You aren’t real.”

“Hey!” Munson said sharply and stuck his finger in your face, “I’m real. I can touch you! How am I not real? Also, who doesn’t believe in ghosts?”

“Me!”

“Well, now you have to believe because I’m sitting right in front of you,” he hissed and poked you in the cheek this time.

You narrowed your eyes at him, which he mirrored half a second later. The two of you stared at each other until finally, you sighed. “Fine. Let’s say I believe that this isn’t some insane hallucination slash dream my mind concocted, what do you want? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Munson took his hand back and victoriously smiled, “I’ve been stuck like this for three painful years. I know exactly how to be human again and leave this ghost bullshit behind, but I can’t use any of my knowledge because no one can see me. Until you.”

You mocked his fake smile, “what. Do. You. Want?” You repeated.

“I need your help in getting a body. A dead one, specifically. But you have to kill him in a certain way or else it won’t work and I’ll remain a ghost. Got it?”

You recoiled, “you want me to kill someone!?” You shouted, “No! What are you, crazy? No, absolutely not, no way.”

“Yes way,” Munson said, “he’ll only be dead for like, a minute tops!” He promised, “then I can take over his body and boom! Human again!” The excitement in his voice made you pause in your panic. If, and that was a big if, he wasn’t lying, if ghosts really did exist and he was one of them, he had been stuck like this for years. Unable to talk to anyone, unable to be seen by anyone, unable to do anything but exist in the balance between life and death.

It sounded awful.

You dropped your head and stared at your lap. With a heavy sigh, you murmured, “fine. Fine, but I want you to know this is crazy. Level ‘I believe the earth is flat’ crazy,” you said and lifted your head to glare.

Munson only grinned back at you, “I know,” he excitedly laughed and punched his arms in the air, “I’m gonna be alive again. I’m gonna be alive again!” He screamed and whooped, laughing the entire time.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attitude and nodded, “I’m going to drive home and you are going to be silent. Then, you can explain everything to me and we can set up ground rules. Deal?” You asked and looked at him expectantly.

Munson stuck his hand out, after a moment, you took it. “Deal,” he echoed with a warm smile.

#ransomswriting #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #x reader #male reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male y/n #reader insert #ghost au #writing requests open

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alexs-playground · 2 years

Note

omg ok fluff request with eddie munson and m reader where the reader is new in town (senior age like 18 or 19) and has facial piercings and a battle vest with a bunch of punk bands and eddie is surprised there’s another alt person in hawkins and he gravitates toward him but the reader is kinda closed off and eddie makes it his mission to be his friend but then finds out that the reason the reader was avoiding him was because he had a crush on him? i think it would be so very good ! and hope this ramble mess is coherent lol have a good day <3

Eddie Munson x Male!Reader

A/n: I wrote this slightly differently from the request. The reader in this has already graduated and is nineteen.

Fem aligned and/or cis women DNI! This is not written for you and I ask that be respected or I WILL block you from ever seeing my content. The MLM or NBLM writing community is not for you to fetishize and romanticize our works when there are thousands of works out there for you, grow out of being petty and read those.

A brand new record store had just opened up by your family. You had moved from Nashville so your mother could open up a record shop that had next to nothing in competition. School had just got out and it was the perfect timing as you had just graduated and could help out your mother. It was preferred knowing you had better knowledge of music than the pharmacy; Music is your calling anyway it's your way of expression and communication. Business was amazing straight off the bat, you managed to keep a good image despite your ‘odd’ style as customers would usually say. Something about how you could befriend the “devil’s boy” if you continued to dress like that.“Who is the devil’s boy?” is the question you asked for weeks until you found who they meant.

Eddie Munson, ever since the shop opened he had been in and out, sometimes never buying a thing just playing music on their records in one of the rooms in the back. You guessed he was a music lover by the battle vest he constantly wore with multiple band pins and patches decorating the front with a giant Dio panel on the back. What you didn't know was that after the first day he came in he started to come back for you more than the music. Eddie was infatuated with you; The man had no clue if it was because you were good looking and working in a music store or because you were like him…or at least from what he gathered from your varios battle vests and multiple piercings. You were cool, that's what Eddie knew but what he struggled with was talking to you.

You avoided him, always taking your lunch break right before he makes it to the counter having your mother take over. It's not that you were scared, hell how could you be? It was more the fact that you felt like he was a hallway crush that you never wanted to let them know how weird you were by talking to them, so you hid away. That took Eddie by surprise. He thought you heard about the “cultist shit” and took it for real.For once in his life he was actually hurt by the fact that someone thought of him as an actual monster, nonetheless by a guy who dresses like him. Eddie was still constantly coming to see you but kept his distance when not actually buying things.

Today, like any other, you had taken your lunch break out back in your car when you heard a knock on the window. Looking up you saw the same shaggy haired guy you saw every other day. A wide goofy grin cast upon his features as you made eye contact. You slowly roll down your window with a shaky breath and a small smile.

“Uh, hi?” is all you could muster up

Eddie's smile slightly dropped as his confidence flew out the window when you spoke. He had heard you before but that was for customer service. Something in your voice now made his heart beat wild.

“I-uh, hey, I'm Eddie.” He spoke loudly but you could hear an anxiety in his voice put you a bit at ease that he was as nervous to talk to you as you are to even look at him.

“I’m Y/n. My mom and I own the record shop if you couldn’t already tell” You say, your heart beats quickly as Eddie leans closer resting an arm on the roof of the car.

Just barely nose to nose Eddie smiles lightly and nods as you speak again. “Is there a reason you're back here or….”

“Oh well I have to admit you have caught my eye for the past month and was wondering if maybe I could get to know you. Gotta admit it's very rare that people move here and even rarer when they look as awesome as you” His sentence slows as he starts to feel awkward again the odd confidence he got to lean so close to you.

Your face grew hot and blushy as you turned away for a second thinking about your answer before grabbing a marker and taking his arm. Slowly you wrote out your home phone number with a heart beside it. Smiling at the idea you put the marker back and turn to say “Glad I caught your eye. I would love to chat about myself so you can get to know me as long as you throw in some stuff about yourself.”

A/n I know this is a really weird ending but I could not find a way to finish this I hope this is alright :]

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x male reader #fanfiction #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x male y/n #eddie x male reader angst #eddie munson fanfic #alexs playground

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hllfireclb · 1 year

Text

POV: You’re telling your boyfriend (Eddie Munson) you don’t like head from him (he knows you’re lying).

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2braincellslz · 1 year

Note

Eddie or Billy with a southern reader who's teaching them to line dance, yes just yes

Southern Dance

Ship: Eddie Munson x Gn!reader

Desc: eddie is stubborn but weak to y/n. So, when y/n wants to teach him how to dance, he cant say no.

Not proofread.

Y/n grew up in the south. The whole nine yards sort of speaks. A small farm with many different kinds of farm animals. Some form of party during the weekends at the big red barn down the street. Horse riding. Mama's home cooked meal. And dancing.

Boy from Y/n's family loves dancing. At the parties, they were always the best on the floor. Line dance, square dance, swing, two steps, and a little bit of waltz. Y/n knew it all.

Their life was perfect. Y/n wouldn't trade it for the world. So, you can imagine their displuser when Y/n´s parents sold the farm, all the animals too, and moved into a trailer park. A bloody trailer park.

They had a house and a farm and friends, and now they live in a trailer park.

It wasn't all bad though, some people in the park were quite nice. They were very welcoming folk. Y/n mourned not being able to go to those parties, but Y/n still would take their free time to do a little shimmy in their (very small) room.

y/n liked the school. They liked how it didn't take hours to get there. Y/n liked their new friends that were quick to take in the new kid. Y/n liked the silly game they roped them into. y/n liked their time with their nabor, Max, who was trying to teach Y/n how to skate. But, most of all, Y/n adored that lovely Dm, as they called him.

Eddie Munson. A heavy metal enthusiast. A very creative guy. A very sweet man.

After about a week in school, Y/n started hitching rides from Eddie. He would ramble on about the going ons in the rock world or DMing or school while Y/n listened carefully.

On Fridays, when Eddies and Y/n´s gardens were both at work, they would crash at Eddie's trailer. Watching movies, eating snacks, what not. Sometimes, they would just chill out and listen to music on Eddie's bed.

Tonight was one of those Friday nights. Y/n was laying on Eddie's bed and Eddie was sitting on the floor.

¨wanna pick the next song?¨ Eddie asked, looking up at Y/n.

¨I have my own cassette with me, if you don't mind me playing that?¨ Y/n sat up, reaching over for their book bag. They grabbed it and unzipped the front pocket, pulling out a closet full of country dance music.

¨its not country, right?¨ eddie asked. He watched as Y/n stepped over him and squated infront of the speaker.

¨bluegrass.¨ Y/n corrected him.

Y/n pulled out the rock caset and replaced it with their music. Dance music quickly replaced the heavy metal.

¨Its is country!¨ Eddie groaned, flopping on the floor. ¨turn it off! My ears! Its killing my ears!¨

Y/n rolled their eyes, getting up and going over to Eddie. They stood over him with their hands on their hips. ¨get up, im going to teach you how to dance.¨

y/n had to pull Eddie up on his feet. Eddie flopped on to Y/n, leaning in to them.

¨you cant make me! It would break the code!¨

¨what code?¨

¨the code of metal! Im not allowed to enjoy country!¨

¨get up! Humor me a bit!¨

Eddie whined but stood up straight.

¨ok, now. Stand with your feet together and follow what i do.¨

Y/n steped out to the right, then crossed their leg behind the right one, taking another step. Y/n looked over to Eddie, watching his copy.

Y/n took another step then stood with their feet back together. Eddie copyed.

The pair repeated the steps back to the left.

Then a step forward. Then another step forward. Then another step forward with their left foot.

Y/n showed eddie the next step and Eddie followed to the best of his ability. There was a bit of stumbling, ofcoures, but the laughter and joy that filled the room made up for Eddies awful dancing skills.

They ran through the whole dance one or two more times, slowly getting faster with each attempt.

¨now, at tempo. Do you think you are ready?” y/n asked.

“I was born ready!” y/n rolled their eyes, turning up the music.

Eddie and Y/n followed the steps one last time, with minimal fumbling.

“See! See i told you i was born ready!” Eddie smiled wide, ear to ear. He flopped on to his bed, pumping his firsts in to the air as a silent victory.

“What happened to the code? Not being able to enjoy southern music?” Y/n asked, sitting next to their friend.

“Code smode. The code dosnt matter!” eddie threw his arm over his eyes.

“You are terrible.” y/n layed down.

“You love me.”

“sadly.”

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gttinyprincess · 2 years

Text

Heads up I might be able to get the fix out tonight. I'm like 90% of the way done.

SNEAK PEEK ^-^

Vampire Eddie x Steve x Male reader

Steve's friend is weird and (Y/N) is determined to find out why.

------------------------

Steve's friend is weird.

Ever since (Y/N) had met him there'd been a little voice in the back of his mind saying something here isn't right.

He didn't seem dangerous and he'd never tried to harm himself or Steve. If anything he was nothing but polite and respectful, if a little bit eccentric at times.

Eddie was a little strange to add to their group without that feeling though. A metalhead stoner who seemed to constantly be talkin about some nerd shit or other. He never understood what he was on about and yet he found himself hooked on every word the guy said. He's charming, he has this way of explaining his weird little game and the odd characters within it that just had (Y/N) mesmerized.

Even with those thoughts, a vampire was a bit of a jump in conclusions even for him.

And if it were only the off feeling he got from the guy he'd dismiss it and move on, but its not. It's the way he's so silent in his movements, always startling (Y/N) by appearing from behind without so much as a creaking floorboard. Disappearing for no reason when Steve caught his finger with the edge of his knife or when (Y/N) bust his nose open on the table after a night of heavy drinking and he swears to this day Eddie's eyes were darker in the dim light of the front room when he looked at him. The pupil blown out till the entire iris looked black, that most definately was not normal by any means. The way he had hovered for a moment beside him, seeming to become instantly sober as he eyed the thick red blood dripping down his lips and chin. For a moment (Y/N) felt true fear, he felt like a rabbit before a hungry wolf. The look on his face was cold and hungry as if he didn't even recognise who he was even looking at. Then in an instant Steve's slapping a hand onto Eddie's shoulder and telling him to grab (Y/N) some tissue and a glass of water, sliding down to kneel infront of his mate asking him to tilt his head back so he can check the damage and just like that Eddie is gone, having left the room without a sound as usual.

So a vampire, atleast that was his hypothesis

#vampire eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #vampire au #steddie x male reader #vampire eddie #vampire steddie #male reader #male reader x Eddie munson #eddie munson x male y/n #kas eddie munson #kas Eddie

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blueywrites · 5 months

Text

morning head

(find the companion ficlet here)

eddie munson x gn!reader (no pronouns, no genital or physical description given aside from having enough hair that someone can grab)

you wake eddie up with a blowjob.

cw: 18+ only. oral (m receiving), somnophilia with no explicit consent given (eddie is happy about it; don't do that in real life). eddie refers to reader as 'baby' and 'sweetheart'. fluffy, sensual smut with no plot.

2.4k

The trailer is cold. Frost kisses the edges of the dirt-smudged window in Eddie’s bedroom, and wisps of bitter air leak in through the shoddy seal between frame and wall. Maybe that’s what rouses you – the bite of cold on your nose, enough to make you scrunch your face and turn away from the blue light filtering through the glass. The move smushes your cheek to a splay of Eddie’s ticklish curls. The prickle against your skin makes you too itchy to sink back into the grips of sleep; your consciousness rises up instead, settling behind your eyelids. It doesn’t take long for you to decide to give up and crack your lashes, blinking blearily to clear your vision.

Eddie’s face is inches from yours. His cheek is cast in the cool early-morning glow of the window you turned from, and that light fuzzes soft over his nose and lips flushed pink from sleep. The planes of his face are smooth and relaxed, though even sleep cannot erase all the lines in his skin. They’re evidence of how untamed his living is— laughter at the edges of his eyes, divots of dimples that frame the corners of his mouth, faint scrunch marks between his dark brows. Real, alive, and so utterly beautiful. It’s a rare moment to see him so peaceful, only stolen due to the heaviness of his slumber, and you covet the opportunity to observe him unabashedly. The sight filters into the crevices of your chest, settling into a comforting warmth; if you hadn’t already been swathed in heat from the neck down, you’d still be protected from the cold.

You shift slightly closer to Eddie, close enough that your belly brushes against the cotton of his shirt where your own has ridden up in your mid-sleep writhing. He doesn’t twitch, doesn’t even stir, and you smile as that fact fills you with more affection than could be explained away should you be questioned about it. Why is everything he does so endearing to you? Because he’s Eddie, you suppose, and that’s enough. Moved by that feeling, you hook your arm around the curve of his slender waist, pressing your palm between his bony shoulder blades and fanning your fingers to reach as much of him as possible over his t-shirt.

The smallest sign of life then. Without even a flutter of his dense eyelashes, Eddie turns further onto his side, his torso and hips curling towards you as if by instinct even while his arm remains thrown wide, splayed across the sheets, his wrist dangling from the edge of the bed. The arm closest to you is tucked under both of your pillows, bent toward his head, his skull cradled by his own fingers beneath layers of cotton and worn filler. He’s just getting comfortable, you suppose. But incidentally, his shifting stirs the air beneath your heavy blankets, and a waft of scent blooms from the shadowy space your bodies make separating top sheet from mattress.

The smell is all heat and musk, sleep and body. It’s a scent that calls to your own body, stirring the animal that lives in the pit of your stomach. The animal rouses with a languid stretch, attention piqued as you inhale deeply— tang like the edge of sweat, sweet and rich like churned earth and the ghost of rumbled pleasure against your thighs.

Cool light and chilled air become stifled by stagnant darkness as your animal guides you beneath the blanket.

You slip down, seeking blindly with your face. Down, and it brushes against the cotton covering Eddie’s chest; down more, and your nose finds the soft, smooth pudge of his abdomen above his belly button. Down again, and the shirred band of his boxers bumps your chin. The humidity from your breath and the heat from his body are already making your cheeks damp as you nuzzle against the wiry hair that peeks above his boxers, just a taste of the nest that lies inside. The masculine scent of him is stronger here, and Eddie’s thigh twitches sleepily as your now-warm nose buries against him. You thread one arm between his legs and the other over his thigh, hugging his lower half with a contented, blissful hum muffled from his ears beneath the heavy blanket.

It’s a little hard to breathe in here, but you wouldn’t give it up for anything when you get to love on him like this. Even unconscious you know he likes it because his top leg shifts back and his hips bump up, knocking the soft mound beneath the fly of his boxers against your chin. These shifts are slight— tiny, languid movements that would be more purposeful if he were awake, and knowing he’s still asleep makes the animal inside purr. It perks, intrigued by the promise of a new game: pleasuring Eddie without waking him.

Your nuzzling turns to soft, light kisses peppered over the thin material keeping him from you. It doesn’t take long to have him plumping under your lips; you open them wide, fanning him with hot breath through starchy cotton as you gain satisfaction by fitting them sideways over the width of his length and sucking lightly. You can only taste dry cotton and not any of him, but it has the desired effect: Eddie’s abdomen tenses briefly, and when he relaxes again, his cock has fully stiffened, now ready and waiting for you to free it.

Tingling heat grows between your thighs as you waste no time taking him out. Carefully, you stretch the waistband to prevent it from catching on his head, tucking it down just far enough to keep your treasure exposed. You rest your head on his bush, letting a gentle palm guide his silken hardness against your mouth. There. It’s with a rush of relief and excitement that your lips finally touch Eddie’s skin, and when your tongue snakes out to taste him, you moan quietly in the back of your throat. Another lick, a longer one, and the arm Eddie had thrown wide and let dangle from the edge of his bed shifts down in an arc toward his hip.

You pause for a moment, motionless and listening to see if he’s awakened. After a long moment of still silence, you allow yourself to move again. Your lips drag lightly up his silken, musky skin, seeking the nexus of heat on him; they bump against his spongey, swollen head, and you tent the blanket as you arch up and take his tip into your mouth.

That sweet, earthen tang blooms on your tongue. Spit pools in response, a drooling reply from your animal. You stretch the wet muscle down, seeking the ridge of his head and running it along the underside to earn yourself a twitch. It excites you, spurring you to push down lightly and pull back, letting the wet heat of your mouth slick him up and the drag of your lips make him feel good.

Push and pull, push and pull— with each bob, you love on your man as he sleeps. You get lost in the steady rhythm, attention honed to the feeling of him filling and leaving you, the thrum of the pulsing vein on his cock, the slick you leave behind on his skin, spit slowly crawling toward his base where your fingers are wrapped around him. All is heat, sweat, and friction, wetness and tang, the stretch of your lips and the familiar pinch in your jaw. The delicious labor of bringing your partner pleasure.

You get so lost in Eddie that you nearly bite down when the blanket is suddenly jerked from your head.

Luckily for him, your teeth don’t budge, although you do make a startled noise in the back of your throat. Your first instinct is to suck the rush of fresh air greedily into your lungs through your nose, and then your eyes flick to up Eddie’s face, wide and nearly guilty as if you’ve been caught out. He looks sleepy still— heavy-lidded and hazy, hair wild and knotty, not yet finger-tamed— but his flushed cheeks and the heat in his gaze instantly send a pulse of desire between your legs. You bob down on him further, and his hand comes to cradle the back of your skull, tangling in your hair. When you swirl your tongue, blunt nails scratch against your scalp as his fingertips tighten.

His lips part slightly so he can rasp at you, “Shit, baby. M’I dreamin’?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head minutely and smiling around his cock in your mouth.

A lopsided grin slowly stretches across Eddie’s face as he looks down at you. He asks, sleep hoarse and rumbly and fond, “Well then, wha’d I do to deserve to wake up like this, huh?”

You’re struck, not for the first time, by how much you love him. He’s so handsome it aches— in your chest and in your sex. You pop off him, maintaining eye contact as you lick up his slick cock with the broad flat of your tongue. Eddie groans, breathy and deep, gaze transfixed on you as you murmur, “You just smelled good.”

Eddie huffs a chuckle, amused and disbelieving, and his fingers reflexively tighten against your scalp as you take him in again, resuming a quick, deep pace that has him hissing and his thighs tensing.

Eddie sounds much more awake now as he groans, “Fuck, baby. Keep doin’ that and I’m gonna cum down your throat.” You moan, sucking deep, moving with intent as you keep eye contact with him. And you know by the way Eddie’s plush lips fall open with a rumbling gasp that he got your message:

That’s what I want.

It becomes obvious then that Eddie isn’t holding back anymore, and your loving quickly turns sloppy as he takes the lead. His hips cant up in time with the push of your mouth, and the wide span of his strong fingers cradles the back of your skull, holding you with just enough force to bump his cock further into your throat than you could on your own. His heavy breaths and airy grunts mix with the sound of thick, wet spit and your quiet, garbled moaning, filling the bedroom with wall-to-wall heat that quickly overtakes the chill of the winter morning. The fingers of your right hand clench in Eddie’s boxers, bunching the fabric over his tensed thigh as he holds you in place and fucks up into your mouth. The feeling of his cockhead bullying your soft palate, shy of mean but utterly insistent, makes you burn even hotter yet. Your animal keens and your lower half aches as you hold on obediently, shallowly dipping your head down to meet the thrusting of his hips as Eddie uses you for his pleasure.

Quickly, the evidence of that pleasure builds. It reveals itself to you as his breath turns to harsh little huffs, his fingers scrunch up your hair into his fist at the back of your head, his abdomen ripples and tenses rhythmically under your other hand, which presses there for leverage to keep your stiff neck and shoulders from collapsing. “That’s it, sweetheart. You know just how to take my cock. Makin’ me feel so good.” Eddie rumbles his encouragement between curses and quiet babbling as his movements become taut with desperation. Through the thrumming of your pulse in your ears, you catch bits of what he’s saying— a stream of consciousness mixed with praise and reverence for you and your little mouth. How you’re so wet and soft inside, how you’re perfect for him, how lucky he is to have you under his sheets like this.

You mewl around his thickness as he twitches on your tongue, a quiet, needy sound in the back of your throat that you repeat over and over even while your jaw begins to ache. The pain is distant when you can nearly taste the promise of his spend on the tip of your tongue. You’re ready to drink down each drop of his pleasure as if it sustains you. Maybe it does.

Just one more push and pull and Eddie drops his hips, guiding you down to follow him; you moan when he orgasms as if the knowledge of his pleasure has it rolling over you in waves, too. His elbow grazes the outside of your shoulder as his belly tenses and he crunches up, grunting open-mouthed as his head leaves the pillow. The familiar brine of his cum follows, blooming at the back of your mouth, and Eddie’s grip on your head loosens so you can shift up and settle his tip in the cradle of your tongue. He feeds you with his spend, but also with his vulnerable whimpers and the pink flush that has now spread down his pale chest. He cracks open for you, and you savor each bit he allows you to consume, which is everything. All of him.

As he twitches out the last of his orgasm with your lips wrapped around him, Eddie loosens his hand, shaking your hair from between his fingers so he can knead the back of your neck, firm and fond. You hum, entirely satisfied as he finally melts bonelessly beneath you and his other hand comes around to cradle your jaw. His thumb feathers over your cheekbone as you rest your head on his heaving tummy, letting his softening length slip out of your mouth and flop beside your nose.

In the long moment of recovery that follows, you notice that the blue light from the window has brightened, accompanying the faint trill of the few birds that never left for the season. You kitten-lick the final pearl of cum that beads at his slit, feeling hazy and contented as the chill seeps back in, cooling the sweat on both your bodies. And you don’t move until Eddie does, stretching beneath you in a full-bodied, muscle-quivering, groan-inducing stretch that makes you smile against his bush.

You’re rewarded with one last affectionate head scratch before Eddie sits up abruptly, jostling you on his lap and disturbing your peace.

But that won’t be for long.

Eddie ignores your groaning protest and, with a grunt of effort, he manipulates your boneless body flat to the bed. You bounce slightly as your back meets the mattress, your eyes scrunched at being manhandled until he moves to straddle you— sitting on your pelvis, hovering over you, gracing you with a vision of his rat’s nest of hair and his smug, frisky grin that means he intends to return your favor.

You more than happily accept.

please reblog if you enjoyed! your feedback keeps me going 💙

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x male reader

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eddiesxangel · 5 months

Text

Kiss Me Underneath the Mistletoe | Mechanic!EddieMunson x Friend!Reader

Cw: Eddie and you share your first kiss. Fluffy goodness. Implied smut (Mentions of a car accident but no injuries) Eddie and the reader are both in their 20’s. Use of nicknames for reader. GN Reader :)

WC: 1.5k

The party was in full swing when you pulled up to Steve’s driveway. Eddie offered to pick you up because your car was still at his shop. Your card had gone into a tailspin on some black ice and got stuck in a ditch a few days ago. You were okay; only some minor damage to the bumper had to be fixed. Thank god you had your mechanic friend's phone number memorized.

“There you are!” Steve sounded exasperated. There were about fifteen cars parked outside his house, and music and laughter filled the home. It was warm and comforting, but Stevie looked stressed.

You really had only been half an hour late. You had to rush home from work with no car, so you had to take the bus, which took ten times slower. Only to get ready, and then you and Eddie had to rush to the bakery before they closed for the evening to pick up the Christmas cookies you promised to bring tonight.

“Sorry Stevie, I had to pick up the goods.” you wiggle the box of Christmas cookies you had picked up. And Eddie wiggled the bottle of bourbon in his hands to show you brought gifts.

“Yes!” Dustin said as he zoomed past you, swiping the sugary treats out of your hands.

“Hey!” You placed your hands on your hips.

“Sorry! But can’t wait any longer! You’re late enough; we only get these once a year.” Dustin was not sorry.

“Whatever, just save me at least one” you giggle.

“I’ll sneak you some, don’t worry,” Eddie whispered in your ear as a fantasy of his lips touching your neck comes to the forefront of your mind. Your body shivered from the proximity, and only Eddie noticed. He knew he got you. You would be his tonight whether you knew it or not.

The night continued without a hitch; dinner was excellent, and there were games, music, and many more drinks afterwards.

There were a lot of people here you didn’t recognize. Mostly Steve’s coworkers from the office. You had gotten separated from the group when a few of them cornered you with the most god-awful conversation about trades and charts and who knows what.

You finally spot someone out of your group, thankfully Eddie, who can read your face better than anyone. You made the save me eyes, and he beelined to your rescue.

“Hey, there you are! I need your help in the basement. Steve needs us to bring up more booze.” he rests a hand on the small of your back.

You quickly and politely excuse yourself from the conversation, and as soon as the basement door closes, you let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god! I don’t think I could stand another moment; I don’t know how Steve does it!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll always be here to save you,” Eddie smirks, his big hand still on your lower back, guiding you toward the cold cellar.

“Oh, we are actually getting drinks?” You question.

“Yea, babe, what did you think we would be doing down here?” he playfully wiggled his eyebrows before passing you a smaller case of beer while he took on the heavy load. You were a little disappointed; you thought you might get some alone time with Eddie before returning to the party.

You make your way back up to the sounds of cheering and laughing, unsure what’s going on. You both make it into the kitchen, restocking the cooler and fridge, oblivious to the crowd following Steve, who came running in, waving around some green and red plant while simultaneously spilling his red cocktail on the floor.

“Kiss!” Steve pops up behind you and Eddie, startling you both.

“What the fuck, man”—“You scared me!” You both say simultaneously.

“Too bad, you gotta kiss,” he says, wiggling mistletoe above your heads. You scan the group behind Steve; all your friends stare at you like zoo animals.

“Wha-” “Come on-“ you and Eddie were cut off.

“My party, my rules, you’re standing under the mistletoe. You gotta kiss,” he smirks like he knows what he is doing. It wasn't a secret to your friends you had a crush on Eddie.

“Steven!” You scold. Did you want to kiss Eddie? Yes. Did you want to do it forced in front of all your friends?! No.

As you stood your ground, it became more apparent that Steve wasn’t leaving until Eddie planted one on you.

You look to Eddie to gauge his feelings, but his poker face is not helping.

"You really don't want to kiss me that bad, sweetheart?" he raises a brow to you. Maybe he had read your situation wrong.

"What? No. Yes. No! I just want-" You were cut off because you heard your friends begin to chant behind Steve’s stupid, smug face.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”

“Fine!” You succumbed to the peer pressure. You turn and grab Eddie’s head in both hands, pull him down, and plant one on him.

If you were paying attention, you would have heard the cheers from your friends. A minute later, you would have heard the gags and them scurrying away when Eddie stuck his tongue in your mouth. You would have heard Steve mumble “atta’boy” before leaving you two alone, but you didn’t hear anything other than your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

All of your senses were consumed by Eddie. His mouth was soft and gentle like he didn’t want to break you. He tasted like cranberries and bourbon. His tongue broke through, and you let out the slightest whimper as your hands moved from his cheeks to his waist…. His tight little waist that you have been drooling over since you saw him in that tight black tank top with his coveralls hanging off his waist, sweat dripping down his chest and grease-stained skin. When you walked into his work for the first time all those months ago. He was pure sex appeal that day, and you hadn’t seen him the same way since.

Eddie’s hands crept up from the waistband of your pants, slipped up under your shirt and grazed the soft skin of your back. Goosebumps spread throughout your whole body as Eddie continued to pull you closer to him.

You could have been there for a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the moment finally broke when Dustin walked back into the kitchen for those special cookies you’d brought.

“Oh my god! Get a room” he rolled his eyes, and the two of you broke apart, not realizing you were sucking face and feeling one another up in the middle of Steve’s kitchen like you were two teenagers.

A rush of blood spread across Eddie’s face. His lips were just as red as his cheeks. Your face was also just as hot. You could feel the rush of blood travel up your chest to your throat and across your cheeks as you took in what had just happened.

An uncomfortable giggle left your lips, and Eddie swore he heard angels singing. A smile broke on his face, and you felt at ease.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie reaches out a hand. You grab it while frivolously nodding your head. Eddie pulls you through the crowded house, trying to slip past everyone.

“Get it, Eddie!” “That’s my boy!” “Finally!” “About damn time!”

All your friends shout, and you hide your face in Eddie’s chest while he pulls your coat out from the closet.

Eddie giggles as Steve approaches the both of you, blocking the door.

“So when’s the wedding? Do I get credit? Or does Eddie? 'cuz he asked me to set up this elaborate ruse?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you.

“What?” You looked at Eddie, and he chuckled uncontrollably.

“I’m going to have to cut you off, man. No more Christmas cocktails for you.” he swiped the crystal glass from Steve’s hands and chugged the rest.

“Hey!” Steve drunkenly protested.

“What’s he talking about Ed’s?” You giggle.

“Ol’Eddie here asked me to help divide a plaaaaan to get yo-” Eddie cupped a hand over Steve’s mouth and smiled at you with the biggest grin that said he was guilty.

“Real smooth, Munson,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He stepped closer and lifted your chin up to him. He was so cocky, but it made your stomach do a summersault at his touch.

“Ok, turtle doves, get out of here already and make a little drummer boy,” Steve winked.

“Ew, you're gross Steve! Ed’s right, no more cocktails for you.” Robin grabbed Steve by the arm and whisked him away while you and Eddie giggled out the door.

“So you’ve been wanting to kiss me?” You bite your lip as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he pushed up against the car while looking into your eyes.

“You know you didn’t need to drag Steve into it” you giggle.

“Well, where’s the fun in that baby?” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you again. Your body felt it was on fire even though it was below freezing outside. You didn’t care. Eddie’s warmth was enough, and his warmth was indeed the thing that kept you warm for the rest of that night.

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