Call It What You Want
Eddie Munson x Reader: In which Eddie and Reader spend a rare quiet night together in his trailer complete with gentle, loving glances, wandering hands, and soft laughter.
Word Count: 1k
Contains: GenderNeutral!Reader | Immense amounts of fluff | Partial nudity | Allusion to smut (but only soft touches present in this fic) | Established relationship | Eddie being soft for the person he loves |
Warnings: None
A/N: Story takes place pre-season 4, so no spoilers for the newest season (aside from Eddie being a character and existing in the ST universe).
...
No one expected it, not even you.
Loving Eddie Munson wasn’t a part of your life plan and it certainly wasn’t a choice your parents would have made on your behalf.
You didn’t know what to expect when you first met Eddie at the start of senior year. That uncertainty somehow grew into a genuine friendship and later tumbled deeper into love. His love was unlike anything you’d experienced before. The feeling of his hand intertwined with your own and the feeling of his silken lips skimming across your skin, making their way up to finally grant you a kiss were all things you’d only dreamed of prior to him.
Even now with his head in your lap with your hands running through his wild curls, you struggle to believe it’s real. You smile at his body curled up under your shared blanket as you lay on the couch, MTV playing faintly on the television, his cheek resting gently against your thigh, his brown eyes glossed over and droopy with sleep. You didn’t want to disturb him. In fact, you’d prefer to stay here in this trailer, in this very position, forever, admiring every inch of his being; the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the feeling of his stubble as you rub your thumb across his cheek. He didn’t often just rest, quiet moments with Eddie were rare.
He heaves a heavy sigh and yawns, pushing himself up off of you, rubbing his tired eyes. He glances around the room in search of the time, but his face softens, a smile emerging slowly across his lips as he takes you in.
“Hi,” he mumbles, sitting up next to you. “Can you stay?” he asks, his voice soft.
You just nod and turn off the television, the little living room fading into darkness. He reaches for your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You shiver at the feeling of his cold silver rings against your warm skin and he chuckles to himself, nudging you softly. He often forgot he was even wearing them, the trio of rings had become a permanent extension of him. He pulls you down the dark hallway and into his bedroom where the bed lay unmade from this morning.
You watch him as he flops down onto the mattress, still clothed in the Hellfire Club t-shirt and ripped black jeans he’d worn to school. The very same outfit you had to hold yourself back from coaxing him out of during your brief moment together during lunch.
He yawns again and pats the empty space next to him – beckoning you. Stepping out of your Converse, you cross the room in two steps, bouncing down next to him. You both laugh as he rolls over onto his stomach, now on top of you. He grabs your wrists and moves them above your head, peppering kisses down your neck and across the visible parts of your chest.
The feeling of his lips, warm and slick, skimming across your skin sends you into a daze, wanting nothing more than his never-ending attention.
“I thought you were tired,” you gasp.
Eddie places another quick kiss to your cheek and rolls off of you, his pale skin turning red. “I was tired.”
You take advantage of his brief moment of weakness to sit up and reach across his torso, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, easing the fabric up his abdomen. He smiles, licking his lips, and sits up face you, his eyes intent on you as you slide the shirt up and over his torso, shoulders, and head, tossing the cotton fabric onto the floor.
He raises an eyebrow and reaches forward to tease the Hawkins hoodie up and over your figure, revealing nothing underneath, leaving the two of you equally exposed. His eyes widen before slowly narrowing, darkening, as he drinks in the image before him.
But it’s his body that’s the enigma, a beautiful one. His form is one that you’ll never tire of. Seeing him each time is just like the first, each time leaving you breathless and wanting more. The strength of his arms and the beauty in the art of his numerous tattoos are far beyond your comprehension, but oh, so deserving of your praise and adoration. You’re certain he thinks the same of you, that look in his eyes is familiar, as you’ve been both the recipient and the purveyor of the lust flecked in his soft brown eyes.
There’s nothing more that needs to be said as the two of you crawl up and under the covers, Eddie sliding off his jeans as you undo the zipper of your bottoms. He rolls over onto his side, and you instinctively do the same – turning away from him, awaiting his embrace as you did every other night you stayed with him.
“Mmm,” he hums.
“What?” you ask, curious as to why he was denying you the physical affection you so craved.
“I wanna look at you,” he whispers, tracing his fingers down your spine leaving chills in his wake. You consider denying him, making him snuggle close to your back and wrap his arms around your torso, kissing the nape of your neck, but you give into his wish. Not because he was in control, but because ultimately, you wanted it too.
The room is dark but you can see him smile when you flip over to face him, pressing your forehead against his. He snuggled in close to you running his fingers along your body: over the swell of your chest, across the valley of your stomach, and down your hip bone. Without thought, your hand is at the back of his neck, once again playing with his hair while your thumb rubs small circles just under his ear.
“Is that better?” you ask, half mocking him and half genuinely curious. He doesn’t respond, just let’s put a soft hum. In the quiet, you let your eyes fall shut and savor the feeling of his warm palms on your body.
He takes your hand from the back of his neck and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “Much better.”
“You are such a softie, Munson.”
“Shhh, don’t tell anyone,” he mumbles.
Laughter fills the quiet room.
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Stuck With You {pt. II}
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: In which Class President!Reader is paired with Stoner!Eddie Munson for a class project. Despite their general hatred for one another, Reader and Eddie find out there might be more to one another than they first thought. And…Hey, wait, you’re actually kind of sweet and misunderstood?
Word Count: 2.1k
Contains: Explicit language | Enemies to friends to lovers | Class President!Reader | Knowing glances | Heavy flirtation & banter |
A/N: Story takes place pre-season 4, so no spoilers for the newest season (aside from Eddie being a character and existing in the ST universe). This is part 2 of the "Stuck With You" series, if you'd like to read part 1, you can do that here. Hope you enjoy <3
...
Hellfire Club. A week ago you would have laughed in the face of anyone who told you that you’d somehow wind up in room 321-B after school to see Eddie Munson play Dungeons and Dragons. And yet, here you are.
“Halt!” Dustin Henderson jumps out in front of the doorway, stopping you in your path. You step back, hands raised in innocence.
“What business do you have here?” he asks, crossing his arms. Glancing over his head you spy Eddie surrounded by a group of other kids all sitting around a large table covered with a black velvet tablecloth and an elaborate looking game board, complete with those little figurines you spotted in his room a few days ago.
“I – uh,” you stammer.
“Hey! Henderson, cool it, she’s with me.” Eddie’s gaze connects with yours from across the room, an excited, puppy-like grin spreading across his face. He rises from his seat – throne, rather – at the head of the table and crosses the room to greet you.
He couldn’t be that happy to see you, no, you’d been nagging at him all week about how you needed to practice for the presentation you’d soon be giving in class. That was during the time your spent together in class, which mostly consisted of you begging Eddie to focus, a request he only obliged to after copious amounts of flattery or the promise of your chocolate chip cookie during lunch. Outside of that, your schedules almost never aligned, which was how you ended up agreeing to meet with him after Hellfire Club. But, when your Student Council meeting got canceled on account of the principal catching a cold, you decided to drop by early. You had other things to do, sure, but you oddly wanted to see him. Well, not him, definitely not…Admittedly, you'd always been curious about what went on here. You were calling it research – after all, it is important for the Class President to know about all campus-affiliated clubs.
“Hi, sorry I’m early, is this okay?” You look back down at Dustin who still stands between you, looking between the two of you, clearly confused. Eddie must not get a ton of visitors, maybe none at all.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We’re just about to get started.” He gestures vaguely to the scene behind him before tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.
“No, wait,” Dustin interrupts, turning to glare at Eddie. “Is she playing? What happened to the ‘no watchers’ rule? This is a sacred campaign!”
You raise an eyebrow at the kid, shocked at his tone. Bold for a freshman.
Eddie bends down just slightly to make direct eye contact with Dustin, his smile slowly fading.
“Henderson, remind me who brought you into the Cult of Vecna?”
There’s a beat of silence. Dustin opens his mouth to respond, but thinks better of it.
“Oh, right, I did. We showed you that high school didn’t have to suck and while you are the future of Hellfire, as long as I am here, crawling my way towards that D in Ms. O’Donnell’s class, this club is still mine. My club, my rules. She stays.”
This was more so what you expected of Eddie, more like what you witnessed when he made faces at the basketball team and flipped off teachers in the hallways. Vaguely threatening and rather harsh. Still, it surprised you after seeing him so soft and kind that night in his trailer. It was even more shocking he was acting this way on your behalf. To save you from the criticism of a fifteen year old.
Eddie stands back up and Dustin groans, dragging his feet back over to the table.
“I didn’t know I was entering a sacred space,” you joke, leaning your head against the doorframe. Each of the kids in the room stares at you and Eddie and you’re not sure if it’s in awe or disbelief. Hell, you can’t even be sure if they’re looking at you, him, or the two of you together, smiling.
Eddie shakes his head. “Sorry about him, you can come in, but I’ll warn you, it’s gonna get pretty fucking intense…I’m about to rock their worlds.”
Laughing, you follow him into the room (much to the chagrin of his friends) and perch yourself on the edge of the windowsill on the far end of the room. You dig around in your backpack for your book and open it to where you left off, letting the noise of the room fade into the background as Eddie and his friends begin their game.
Well, at least, you tried to let the noise fade and keep focused on your book.
Speaking candidly, you weren’t familiar with Dungeons and Dragons. You’d only heard your parents talk about it in passing after watching the news one night. Of course, you’d heard the rumors around town of the game being an elaborate ruse for devil worship, but what you were witnessing was nothing of the sort.
You didn’t fully understand what was going on, what with all of the character names and fantasy scenarios, but you didn’t care. The book could wait. You wouldn’t have been able to stay focused anyway, not with the scene before you.
Eddie was right, this game was pretty fucking intense.
The only thing you could comprehend was the way Eddie was practically glowing. His voice rose and fell with emphasis as he weaved a complex story of combat, challenging characters to battles, each of his friends hanging on his every word. With each new scene, Eddie changed character, pushing himself up from his seat to circle the table and create fantastical displays, his words charged with electricity that seemed to transfer from him and flow into the room full of anticipation and unfettered energy. He looked almost regal as he commanded the room, everyone – including yourself – mesmerized by his recital.
In fact, you’d almost forgotten about the book in your hands until it hit the floor, loudly echoing through the room during a rare lull as the players thought through their next move. You mouth a quiet “sorry”, at which Eddie chuckles and Dustin glares.
An hour and a half later, you hadn’t even turned a page of your book nor thought about the impending project, too caught up in Eddie, his story, and its conclusion.
“You weren’t lying Munson, that was intense!” You rise from your place in the corner of the room, watching as he marks the page in his game book before carefully shutting it. He looks up at you, his dark brown eyes glinting playfully under the classroom lights. The sun had almost set by now and the majority of the club members scurried home, leaving you and Eddie to clean up.
“I thought you were studying,” he says, eyeing the book in your hand.
You shake your head, crossing the room and leaving the book behind to stand at the opposite end of the table from him. He starts collecting the little figurines and you reach forward to help, grabbing a set of dice.
“I couldn’t focus with all the shouting.”
“I warned you, shit gets intense during Hellfire.”
He holds his hand out for the dice and you relinquish them, your fingertips brushing his palm. A breath catches in your throat and he pulls his hand away quickly, his eyes low. In the brief second your fingers grazed his palm, you noted his soft skin. Glancing at his hands, now sliding the dice into a red velvet bag, you wonder if his skin is soft elsewhere; you imagined his fingertips would be rough, what with his guitar playing. You consider the juxtaposition of his smooth skin and dark tattoos littering his forearms, the stubble on his cheeks and the silken look of his pink lips. Much like his hard exterior and seemingly gentle interior. Eddie Munson truly was a walking contradiction.
“It actually looked kind of fun,” you muse.
He raises an eyebrow. “Madame President, am I luring you to the dark side?” He places both hands on either side of his head, poking two fingers up to mock devil horns.
“I’ll admit, I totally forgot about all the work we still have to do.”
“Oh shit, you’re definitely in trouble.” He runs around the table to where you stand and takes the makeshift devils horns from their spot on either side of his head and moves them to you, his hands brushing your temples, fingers tangled in your hair. “Mhmm, just as I thought. Our president’s been fully corrupted.”
“I said the game looked fun, not that I was going to run off and join your cult of nerds.” You smack his hands away and the room fades into silence, a stupid smug grin on his face.
“That’s a shame, having a president who plays D&D would be hot.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Munson.”
He looks down at you through long lashes, his eyes moving down you like they did that night at his trailer, but this time they’re less filled with concern for your health, seemingly darker as they track down your face, stopping briefly to linger on your lips, only to continue down your neck only to stop once again at your chest.
“You’ve done everything but disappoint me, Madame President,” he whispers, swiping his tongue across his lips.
You snap your head back up to look at him, that all too familiar heat spreading across your chest, licking up your neck and at your cheeks. His eyes don’t move from you. His body is still dangerously close to yours – he hadn’t moved back when you shooed his hands away. Your body senses him and beckons you to move closer, just an inch, god, he was magnetic. It’d been a mere week and three days since that night in his trailer and he’d been on your mind every one of them. You’d never thought of Eddie Munson this way before, but something about him here, so in his element, draws you to him.
Your brain gets the better of you though, forcing you to step back and get a little bit of space from him, no matter how much you wanted to step closer and place a hand to his cheek, perhaps feel the velvet of his lips against yours.
“No,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else. You couldn’t get involved with someone like Eddie Munson, you couldn’t derail the next month before graduation, people like you and Eddie were walking different paths, going different places.
Eddie exhales a breath, one you didn’t realize he was holding in, and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Shit, I didn’t mean to…”
“No, I didn’t mean to, I was just, uh…” you mutter, trying to form some coherent string of words. You glance back at your book still sitting on the windowsill. “I mean, we should probably focus on the, uhm, the project.”
“Sure, yeah, whatever you think.” His voice wavers as he finally steps back, walking around to sit down across from you at the table. He watches you as you grab the book and a notebook and sit down, opening both of them and sliding the notebook across the table to him. He stops the little spiral notebook in its path.
“That was a bad idea, wasn’t it?” he asks, rubbing his thumb against one of his silver rings. “Trying to kiss you?” He looks up from the paper and you feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach when his eyes connect with yours.
You swallow hard, nodding. “I think so, yeah.”
“Then why do I still want to do it?”
“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathe, “we shouldn’t.”
He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, leaning forward in his chair. You find yourself leaning forward, too, inching your way closer to his lips. The small space between you shrinks, the scent of his cologne once again flooding your senses.
“Eddie!” someone shouts.
You scramble to your feet and Eddie does the same, both of you deploying a safe distance. You rush to grab the closest pencil and start scribbling down some nonsense onto the open page of the notebook, desperate to look preoccupied with something other than Eddie.
Dustin, this time accompanied by Mike Wheeler, bursts through the classroom door. “Dude! You let me forget my game binder!” he yells, running forward to grab the navy blue binder from the table. Mike stops under the doorway, his eyes darting between you and Eddie.
Your act must not have been believable, the tension palpable to even a fifteen year old boy.
“Holy shit, did we interrupt something?” The kid laughs and Dustin’s eyes grow wide, his mouth dropping open, clutching his binder close to his chest as he backs toward the door. Mike punches his arm, both of them bursting into laughter.
“Eddie you’re a fucking legend!” Dustin shouts as Mike pulls him out of the room.
Eddie curses under his breath. “Fucking hell, Henderson, you have the worst timing.”
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