#Eddie munson fic

[loveinhawkins]

Eddie surviving and going to see The Princess Bride when it comes out in 1987—and it’s a tentative thing, still, between him and Steve; they haven’t named it, but their hands still brush in the space between their seats, and really if Eddie were pushed, he’d say that they both know exactly what they’re heading towards, that they’re just floating between the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. That’s fine by him; they have time now, so much of it.

And the movie is charming and funny, but it’s not the romance or adventure that hits Eddie in the chest. It comes on unexpectedly, every time there’s a scene with the man reading to his grandson who’s sick in bed: suddenly Eddie can feel the softness of the bedsheets he had when he was young, when the move to Wayne’s was still raw and difficult, and it’s Wayne who’s reading to him softly, back when stories of things turning out fine were all Eddie had.

“Let’s see… where were we?” the grandfather mutters, and Eddie laughs because he can hear so much of Wayne in it, that gentle, wry humour. “Oh, yes. In the Pit of Despair.”

Eddie laughs again, choked. He’s clawed his way out of that damned pit so many times. His breathing catches at the thought that it’s been over a year since the deepest pit of them all, when Eddie once thought that the walls were far too high to climb.

“Woah, hey,” Steve whispers, “what’s wrong?”

Eddie shakes his head, smiling. “N-nothing.”

Their row is empty, and in the dark Steve reaches out, fingertips gently brushing underneath Eddie’s eye. They come away wet.

And Steve gives a little shushing noise, so that only they can hear, and it’s him who makes the leap, easily turning the page into the new chapter.

To some people Eddie’s first kiss would mean nothing at all—in their eyes, a chaste peck of comfort in a movie theatre would be just a speck in the grand history of the kiss itself. But for Eddie, it leaves them all behind.

“Farm boy,” he murmurs, when the movie’s over, smiling because the great, terrible story is done, and he is here; he is here. “Take me home?”

Steve smiles back, winks out the corner of his eye. “As you wish.”

#i just have so many feelings about Eddie & healing #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie and wayne munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson

[luveline]

I've read your vampire eddie fic and its soo lovely I adore them being weird toghether <3 and I thought how will reader and eddie pass the summer? I totally see her saying shit like Vlad please put on some sunscreen lol and eddie be so grumpy

“It’s not that you don’t like it,” you’re saying. 

“No, that’s exactly what it is.” 

You sit down on the picnic blanket by his hip with a plate of summer fruit sweating in your hands. You’ve dotted a few ice cubes through the mountains of it, water melting, turning pink from the melon and yellow with the pineapple juice as the sun bears down.

“The sun is good for you,” you say, taking a slice of apple with green, bright rind in between two fingers. You have very pretty hands, Eddie’s thought that ever since you met, and they’re prettier still because of how you use them, you’re oh so gentle. “Just like this.” 

He won’t let you feed him, taking the apple as you press it to his lips, juice and water wetting his fingers. “The sun does nothing for me. I’m dead.” 

“Are you?” you ask, a genuine curiosity to your tone as you put the plate in front of him. Eddie, on his front, anticipates your next move before you’ve decided, not just because of his super senses but also because you’re a predictable creature, who loves him very much. Unlikely and true. “I thought you were only half dead,” you say, resting a hand by his ribs and leveraging yourself across his back in a hug. “Well, I thought you were undead.” 

Eddie is regrettably undead. “I forgot you were the expert on my condition,” he says, putting the apple slice in his mouth whole.

“Your condition,” you say, your face slotting into the back of his neck, forcing him to close his eyes and settle into the blanket, grass beneath it crisp from the heat. 

“My vampirism.” 

“Ah, I thought you meant your behavioural issues.” 

“Of course you did.” 

You don’t say anything back. Quiet, your hands slide up in front of his armpits, your head lolling heavily to one side. You mouth a word against his neck, a second and third, but Eddie can’t decipher what it is you’re saying even with his incredible hearing, can only feel the soft curve of your lips as they shutter closed, hot like a fresh bruise beneath his ear. 

Eddie nudges you to slide off of him, turning, cautious of the plate, to offer you his arm, and to see your face more clearly. You’ve forgone any of your fun makeups today, weary of the heat, all your wrinkles and lines in stunning detail under his gaze.

You lay on your side and Eddie lifts the arm that isn’t supporting him with his finger bent into a tight ‘n’ to stroke the skin under your chin. “You’re pretty,” he says, his knuckle rubbing back and forth. 

“You’re beautiful,” you say back. The hair at the nape of your neck is damp with sweat, and as you both lay there in the humidity, a bead of it races suddenly to sink into the fabric of your top. 

“You’re really pretty,” he says, ignoring your deflection —though for you, he doubts it’s a deflection at all, only a thought you’d had and spoken without qualm— in favour of lavishing you with some more love and praise. He opens his palm and touches his fingertips to your cheek, conscious of the heat, stringing the words together slow as the heavy pour of a maple tapper, “I don’t like the sun, it’s hot, and I’m melting, but I don’t think I mind it when you’re here too.” 

Your heart does a jump, to his smugness, an audible caper of your pulse. “Everything’s better when we’re together,” you say. 

He nods severely and lifts your chin just a touch, tilting his head to the side to kiss you. The pressure of his fangs is forgotten, a blood sate too far away to ignore the more nefarious longing that thrums at the centre of his chest, but overpowered anyways by practice, and desire; he’s gotten a thousand times better at kissing you, because you like to be kissed, and he likes to give you anything he can. 

He can’t pretend he doesn’t like this, either. You cover his hand with yours and wade in like a quick tide, pulling back and pushing in, like nips without the pain. Your hand slips into his hair. “I love you,” you say, “but you’re sweating like crazy.” 

“You’re sweating worse,” he says. 

“We’ll have to take a vacation.” 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“Literally everywhere cold.” 

Eddie can’t leave Hawkins. He needs blood, and there’s only one sheriff who’s willing to source it for him. But it’s a nice idea, a fantasy he won’t ruin for you. “Where’d you want to go first?” 

“I wanna go to that place with the Northern Lights. We’d never complain about sweating again.” 

You squint at him. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Where do you want to go?” you ask. 

“Anywhere with you.” 

“Well, you’d have to.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asks. 

“I’m your only portable blood bag, Eddie.” 

He lays back on his back, covering his eyes with an arm as the other comes to rest on his soft stomach, whirl of a scar thick beneath his shirt. “Never gonna happen.” 

You shuffle closer to him. “One day,” you say, laying down next to him with your face nearly flat to the blanket, the heat of your body a palpable thickness he wouldn’t change for the world, dehydration inevitable. “You’ll give me a nice sharp kiss and that’ll be that.” 

“Never.” 

“Imagine it.” Your voice turns to a whisper. 

“Never, babe,” he says, he promises, the weight of his arm over his eyes like an iron. 

“I’ll just have to bite you instead.” 

You open your mouth and press your teeth to the hill of his shoulder, dull and wet, your breath like a kiss before you let your lips drift shut and give him a proper one. “Love you,” you say. 

“Love you, freakazoid.” He wrestles you into a cuddle he’ll regret sooner rather than later, wishing his vampirism were better at keeping him cool. He’s cold to the touch most of the time. Right now he’s baking. “But I’m not biting you,” he says into your forehead. 

You laugh breezily. “Not today you’re not. That’s why I made fruit salad.” 

#love bites universe #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[succubusmunson]

thinking about how eddie can spend hours between your thighs, eating you out until you’re cumming over and over again. he doesn’t care how sensitive you are or how’re you’re trying to push him away (even though you can always take more). you’re he’s good girl, he makes sure you take whatever he gives.

and all for his pleasure only.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic

[corroded-hellfire]

Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️‍🔥👯‍♀️

We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: mentions of smut

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind. 

A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.

“White? You sure about that?” 

You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.

Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.

“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”

The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.

“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”

“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”

“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”

“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”

The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.

“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.

“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”

As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye. 

“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”

You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.

“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.

“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.

Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.

“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”

The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.

“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”

Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains. 

Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her. 

First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.

“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”

With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces. 

“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’s less than a month away.”

“But still.”

“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.

“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”

“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”

You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.

“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”

Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.

“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”

“Teach me your ways.”

Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”

You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.

Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.

“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says. 

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.

“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.

“Hell yes,” Jess agrees. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”

It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.

“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.

“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.

“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”

Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.

“In a good way?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”

“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.

You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.

“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.

“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.

New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” you say.

“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”

When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Whatcha got?”

“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”

Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.

“How long ago did they pick them up?”

A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.

“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”

“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.

“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”

Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed. 

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWS #request

[apheleion]

when we first met ; eddie munson

you and eddie reminisce about your first meeting.

tags: fluff, swearing, eddie being a goofball, slightly insecure reader, pet names (sweetheart, babe)

was gonna post this tonight but thought ‘why not now?’ enjoy!

“Hey, Eds,” you say softly, turning to face him on the couch. “Do you remember when we first met?”

He scoffs. “Are you kidding? Of course I do.”

A smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head. “I can’t believe how afraid I was to talk to you. Just to find out you’re a huge goofball.”

At first Eddie laughs, but then his face drops.

“Wait a minute. You were afraid of me?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.

His expression makes you giggle. “I mean… not afraid. Just intimidated,” you say, giving a small shrug.

He shakes his head. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was absolutely terrified to talk to you.”

“No way!”

“Way,” he nods, leaning his elbow onto his knee and placing his chin in his hand.

You frown. “Why were you afraid to talk to me?” you ask him.

“Because you’re stunningly beautiful, duh.” Your face burns. “Not only that. You’re sweet. And funny as fuck, might I add. The whole package,” he grins.

“Shut up,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. “I’m not the ‘whole package’.”

He shakes his head. “You can’t deny the truth, sweetheart.” Suddenly the smile fades from his face, and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart swoop. “God, I fell for you so hard.”

“Eddie—”

“It happened so fucking fast, y’know? I saw you, and then, bam! I was in love with you.”

Your breath catches. “Really?” you ask softly, tears pooling your eyes.

“Yeah, really,” Eddie nods. He reaches forward and cradles your cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb moving in gentle strokes along your jawline. “Shit, sometimes it scares me, all of this love I have for you. But in a good way. Does that make sense?”

You nod, your bottom lip quivering. “Yeah. It does.”

“No, no, don’t cry. I—Fuck—I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. They’re happy tears,” you grin, the droplets trailing down your cheeks. “I love you, Eddie.”

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours, and your heart pitter patters like it’s the first time all over again. “I love you too, babe.”

#kate writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #joseph quinn

[blue-blue-blooms]

The First Date

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Your first date with Eddie doesn't go exactly as planned after you and your friends get taken and drugged by Russian spies, making him think that you stood him up.

Warnings: A little bit of angst.

2k words

Eddie Munson.

You'd seen him around school. He was loud, rough, and slightly intimidating. 

The first time you saw him was in the cafeteria, loudly speaking about the throes of capitalism, forced conformity, and the demonization of people whom society deemed 'different'. You mostly tuned people out during lunch, but it was hard to ignore Eddie. He was so captivating. You weren't sure if it was the way he used his entire body when making a point, aggressively gesticulating, or the way his face twisted and turned as he spoke, or just his general demeanor, that made everything he said sound so poignant. He hadn't really been in your orbit before, so outside your social circle. You were friends with people like Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, not necessarily because you were popular but rather through shared trauma. There was something about going through life-altering events and near-death experiences that really bonded people for life. 

The first time you spoke to Eddie was after you saw him taping a poster on a bulletin board outside the auditorium. 

Hellfire Club. D&D. 

"Hey, is that a D&D club?" you asked him.

He turned around, slightly startled, and looked at you with surprise. 

"Oh, hey! Didn't see you there. Yeah, it's a D&D club. I'm trying to recruit new members since we're running a bit low..." He replied, giving you a hesitant smile. 

He seemed a bit nervous, slightly tugging on his hair and anxiously tapping his foot. You're pretty sure you were making him nervous. You'd seen the way people like Steve treated people like Eddie, even though Steve had grown considerably after taking out a Demogorgon and watching his girlfriend nearly die. You'd seen the way Tommy and Carol used to laugh at the 'freaks', shoving them around in the hallways, making fun of their interests, like the time Tommy made someone in the band cry during a pep rally. The realization that Eddie was nervous because he expected you to do the same slightly hurt. 

"That's cool! This kid that I babysit—his name's Dustin, he really likes D&D. He plays it a lot with his other friends. Whenever I used to babysit him, he'd drag me to their games. I never really got it, mostly because any time I asked a question, Dustin would scream at me," you breathlessly ramble, "He's not a huge fan of anyone who doesn't get the point, like, right away."

It seemed that the more you rambled, the more at ease Eddie became, and suddenly he was laughing as you spoke. 

"Well, I promise that we don't yell at anyone in Hellfire. Only when we're excited," Eddie said, a small smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you, "Just in case you ever wanna join in."

"I might take you up on that offer. I've been pegged down the list of 'coolest teens' that Dustin knows, and my ego's taken a hit," you joked. 

You hadn't ended up joining Hellfire. But you and Eddie had become sort of friends. You'd see him around school. You were both in some of the same classes, you'd see him in the hallways and you'd wave at each other. Sometimes you'd see him in the parking lot after school and you'd chat for a bit. But that was the extent of it. You didn't grow closer until summer started and you got a job at Starcourt. You worked at Café Nocturne, right across from Scoops Ahoy where Steve had started working. Most days, you spent your lunch break lounging around Scoops Ahoy, eating free ice cream, and making fun of Steve with his co-worker Robin. Sometimes you wondered what Eddie was up to, not having seen him since summer started, and you found yourself hoping you'd see him around Starcourt. 

It wasn't until the second week of summer that you saw Eddie. The Café had been relatively quiet, only an old couple sitting in the far corner drinking lattes. You were trying to pass the time by making random drinks when you saw Eddie lingering by the cash register. 

"Eddie!" you said, surprising yourself by how loud you were. You cleared your throat awkwardly and shuffled over to him, sending him a shy smile. 

"Y/N? Hey, I didn't know you worked here," Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "It's nice to see you again, I was wondering where you went."

"Oh, just been making coffee...hanging out with my friends," you replied, "How's your summer been so far?"

"Erm, yeah, it's been okay. I've just been working, hanging out with Gareth and Jeff, writing some new music," Eddie replied.

"For Corroded Coffin, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, wow, how'd you know about that?" Eddie said, nervously twirling his hair. 

"Oh-um...I heard you talking about it in the cafeteria once," you responded, hoping you didn't sound like a stalker.

"Right, yeah, you should come see us sometime. We play in the Hide Out every Tuesday," Eddie said, as a shy grin crept on his face, "We kinda get a crowd, actually...of about five drunks."

You let out a small giggle, "That sounds nice. Unfortunately, I work every Tuesday. Maybe when school starts?" 

Eddie was slightly deflated at that, nodding his head in understanding. Not wanting to ruin your one chance at spending time with Eddie this summer, you hesitatingly asked, "Maybe we can hang out sometime? You could teach me D&D? I didn't get the chance to learn when you first offered..."

Eddie immediately perked up at that, nodding vigorously as he said, "Yeah! Yeah, that'd be great. I can totally do that. Erm, do you wanna meet here tomorrow at 7? We could grab some food-"

"Oh, I was hoping we could meet somewhere else. Maybe at Patty's diner? It's just that I spend all my time at Starcourt," you responded.

"Yeah, that works. Patty's at 7. It's a date," Eddie replied, before quickly backtracking. "Not like a date-date, I just meant, like, a platonic date. Like just friends hanging out, chilling, y'know? Unless you want it to be a date? It doesn't have to be! But, like-"

You cut him off before he could dig further into the hole he found himself in, giggling a little at how flustered he looked. "It's a date. A non-platonic, hopefully romantic, date."

"That's...that's great, yeah. I will see you then," Eddie said breathlessly, shuffling his way out as he raised a hand to wave goodbye, almost knocking into the table behind him as he left.

God, he's adorable. 

♡♡♡

"I swear to God Dustin, if we die in this elevator, I will strangle you with my bare hands," you grit out, pacing back and forth as everyone tried to reel in their panic, "I have a fucking date in two hours and if I miss it, I will literally end you."

"No one gives a shit about your stupid date," Dustin yelled, throwing his hands around wildly as Erica slammed a bottle of weird-looking fluid on the wall. You weren't even gonna try and deal with that, it looked like Robin had it handled as you watched her snatch the bottle from Erica's hands. 

Things escalated pretty quickly from there and suddenly you were lying on the floor of a bathroom cubicle, trying to make the room stop spinning. 

"Is this what it feels like to do drugs?" you groaned out, stretching on the disgusting tiles and praying that your head stopped pounding. 

"I wouldn't know," Robin replied, "But if it is, this sucks."

"Steve? Are you alive?" you asked, "I don't need you dying on me. You're my ride home." 

"I'm good," you heard him croak.

"Think we puked it all out?" you asked.

"Let's check...interrogate me." Robin said.

"When's the last time you peed your pants?" Steve asked, and you heard Robin let out a cackle, "Today."

"What the fuck, Robin?" you laughed.

"It was when they took out the bone saw. And only a little!" she defended herself, giggling with you. 

"I'm meant to be on a date," you moaned, "He's gonna think I stood him up. How am I meant to explain this shit?" 

"We'll figure it out," Steve replied, "Also, who's this guy anyway? You've been moaning about missing this date for, like, hours?"

"Yeah, it's getting kinda annoying," Robin added. 

"It's Eddie." you replied, crawling into the stall next to you and sitting down in front of Robin. "Eddie Munson. He's a senior. Long, curly, untamed hair. Really loud. Plays D&D."

"Wait, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson? Isn't he a drug dealer?" Steve asked, a little surprised. 

"Don't call him that!" you said, slightly defensive, "And I didn't know that. But if this is what drug consumption is like then he needs to stop."

As the drugs slowly purged out of your systems, and Steve tried to hit on Robin only to get rejected and have a heart-to-heart, the three of you found yourselves giggling hysterically in the dingy bathroom. It wasn't long until Dustin and Erica burst in and dragged you all out. As the night progressed, things only got worse. And soon, all of you were facing off a thirty-feet tall Mind Flayer and reeling from the loss that followed. Then the dust settled, a different story was fabricated, and everyone had to pretend to move on. And you had an apology to give.

♡♡♡

You didn't see Eddie until school started again. It was the first day back, hallways busy and bustling as the freshmen teetered around cluelessly. This year felt different, like there was some cosmic shift in the air. Everything seemed duller, void of any feeling. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but if you had to guess then it was probably the Starcourt 'fire' that had brought on this change. Things weren't the same after. It was like all of Hawkins was reeling from the loss, despite not having known the truth. You wished that you'd been oblivious. Maybe then everything wouldn't hurt this much. 

You didn't see Eddie around school until lunch. You were almost sure he was avoiding you. You finally saw him lingering in the hallway by his locker, putting some books in, and you immediately made a beeline for him. 

"Eddie!" you called, startling him as he looked up. 

You walked over before he could say anything, "I've been looking all over for you! I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to Patty's. I wanted to explain everything over the summer, but my parents grounded me, which was incredibly annoying since I didn't even do anything. But I think they were just super paranoid and didn't know what else to do and I didn't have your number so I couldn't call you and-"

Your rambling was cut off by Eddie as he held up his hands and dismissively waved, "It's cool, it's fine. Honestly, I don't know why I thought you would show up. If it was some joke or whatever, like, it's...whatever."

"What? No! That wasn't some joke. I really wanted to go on that date, but you know what happened at Starcourt, right?" you anxiously spoke.

"The fire? I don't see what that has to do with anything. Doesn't your shift end at 5?" Eddie asked skeptically. 

"Yes, yes it does! But I usually hang out at Scoops Ahoy because Steve's my ride home. I was doing that and then the whole fire thing happened, and I just got caught up in all of that, and then, y'know the house arrest? My parents thought if I stepped outside, I'd die or something," you quickly explained, "I promise I didn't stand you up!"

Eddie looked at you for a while until a small smile crept up on his face, "Relax, I believe you."

You immediately let out a sigh of relief, "I promise I'm not an asshole." 

There were a few moments of silence that stretched between you two until Eddie finally spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened. That must've been horrifying."

You don't know the half of it. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Erm, yeah, it was. But I've had some time to recover."

"How about we re-do that date?" Eddie asked, "Except this time I'm gonna pick you up, can't imagine the types of trouble you get into when I'm not around."

"Sounds good, Eds." you smiled, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. As you broke away, you could see a small blush settling on his face.

"God, Y/N, buy me dinner first."

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #corroded coffin #starcourt #hawkins #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #angst #drabble #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #light angst #stranger things oc #stranger things imagine #eddie munson is a sweetheart #eddie munson is shy #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[eddies-house]

TW: mentions of bad mental health

im imagining eddie being absolutley taken back when he finds out how people have previously treated you resulting in hesitation when being vulnerable with him.

and he's been through some shit, he's not exactly one to be voluntarily vulnerable either but with the tables turned it's like a moment of oh. like you're hiding from him, muddling your own emotions as a means to keep the peace.

he realizes that coming in strong, asking "what's wrong?" almost too oboxiously like he's previously done, only chases you further into your mind, it only insinuates that there are consquences if you were to answer so rather than being met with honesty, it's always "nothing" followed by forced smiles and sucked back tears that he's regrettably brushed off in those moments, trying to keep you comfortable. but while his intention to ease your chaotic mind by simply moving on had no ill intent, he soon recognizes the harm its caused and the pattern he's assisted in creating.

realizes he takes it far too personal when you shut down on those particularily bad days, thinks it's cause of him, only to contribute to the self destruction taking place in your mind when he continuously begs the questions "what's wrong?" "what do you want me to do?" "what can I do?" "come on, tell me what's wrong". he never understood that he was never the issue but he quickly made himself into one by nearly berating and prodding you with his questions. and then one day he sees it. sees the way your eyes go dull when he asks.

sees the front you put on, "everything's okay" while your lip wobbles. he doesn't take it personal this time, there's nothing distracting him from the obvious signs, the symptoms of broken hearted individual struggling to keep up despite the aches and pains that linger within. its a heartbreak he's so familiar with yet seems to be so blind to in others, thinking he's the only one to experience it, not selfishly but hopefully. so he straightens up and silently tells himself to quit all of his bitching because this is bigger than him, it's not because of him. you need him and he's been too insecure to think that maybe words aren't required, not by you anyway. there is no quick fix, no remedy to just stop the pain like popping an ibprofen or slapping on a bandaid, it just is. raw pain and vulnerability that should be allowed to be felt, not cured.

so this time, he recognizes the wall you put up, just like every other time though it was previously ignored. before he can even say anything, he knows you're anticipating his bombarding questions that have no answer. sees the way you tense up, the slight panic in the way your fingers tremble at the prospect of being figured out. except this time he speaks softly, a shake in his voice because he's terrifed to scare you off once again. says "i love you" then gently wraps you up in his arms, provides a barrier between you and the world you're at war with.

holds you on the kitchen floor, face pressed to his chest with a mixture of tears and snot.

runs his fingers down your spine delicately.

whispers "it's okay" when he knows it is in fact not, only hoping you're able to decipher that he means it's okay that you're not okay, it's okay that it's 1AM and while the world is asleep you're both tangled up on top of crumbs and possible neglected coffee stains

apologizes.

because for all those times you've coaxed him through an unwarranted episode, he's been neglecting you at your worst. not on purpose but it's neglect nontheless. and he knows all about it.

sings under his breath when the sobs have stopped wreaking havoc on your body. quiet hums of a familiar song, you are my sunshine.

tucks you into bed, makes you a late night snack cause he knows your appetite fails you in times like these, kisses your forehead and threads his fingers through your hair.

he's not perfect nor has he ever desired being held to such a high standard. but for you he wants to try.

#im not projecting :') #no way #is this therapy? #crying in the club y'all #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you

[moonstruckme]

hi!! ngl i’ve never actually requested anything so im kinda nervous to do so but if it’s possible, do you think you could write something along the lines of eddie munson with like an anxious reader? maybe she has a panic attack and he’s there to help in the aftermath or just an overall anxious person. i know you’ve written something similar with the marauders so i hope that this is okay for me to request. i love love love ur writing!

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: aftermath of panic attack

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

Eddie’s rambling hasn’t stopped since you sat down, but it’s become background noise for you, like ocean sounds or the music they play in grocery stores. You know well enough how to get yourself through this. His hand on your back is a steady, if somewhat frantic, reassurance. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his rhythm slowing as you blow out a lungful of air, bending your head towards your knees. You hold up a weak thumbs-up, and it picks up again. “Shit, yeah, you’re okay, baby. You’ve got it.” 

You feel bad that this is Eddie’s first time dealing with you like this, though it’s nice to be in his trailer and not at the mall or in a restaurant or something. His couch is familiarly uncomfortable, lumpy in places and nearly flat in others, and the air smells like weed and grease, the electric fan Wayne brings out for the summer months whirring diligently in the corner. You’re glad Wayne’s not home now, though someone should probably be around to comfort Eddie after he’s done comforting you. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks again. “You want some water or something?” 

This time, you nod. Your boyfriend all but springs up from the couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and hustling it back to you like he’s training to be one of the NASCAR pit stop people. You take it from him, rubbing the condensation from the bottle on the back of your neck before taking a sip. The chill is grounding. You rest your head back on your knees.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Eddie grabs another water bottle from the fridge once he sees what you did with the first, holding it to your neck. “You seem better. Sounding less like Darth Vader.” 

You laugh a little, and he laughs back nervously. 

“Yeah,” you say, “it’s mostly better now.” 

He blows out a breath. “Phew, okay. Jesus. You’re a fucking champ, you know that?” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Sorry I put you through that.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who went through something just now, so consider your apology heard and nullified.” Eddie’s lips come down on the back of your head. “I’d tell you where to shove it, but I’m feeling kind of bad for you right now. Count your blessings.” 

“Oh, I’m counting them.” You smile down into the semi-dark valley between your legs and chest, taking one more deep breath in and out before lifting your head. “Okay, I’m good.” 

“Yeah?” As he pulls back to see you, your boyfriend doesn’t look so sure. His eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, freakishly huge eyes full of freakishly sweet worry. “Good enough for a hug?” 

You hum your assent, and in the next second you’re in his lap. Eddie goes all the way, curving his body over yours as his arms wrap protectively around your back and his cheek squishes into yours. 

“It scares me when you’re scared,” he admits. 

“Sorry.”

“No—goddamnit, what did we say about that? You’re lucky you’re cute, I swear—don’t be sorry. Obviously it’s not your fault, I’m just sorry that happened to you. It seemed really fucking shitty.” 

“It felt really fucking shitty,” you agree. “I’m wiped.” 

“Honestly? Me too.” Eddie chuckles. “Nap?” 

“Yes, please,” you say, but wriggle closer to him, preventing him from getting up. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He starts rubbing your back again, contemplative. 

“You wanna sleep here, or on the bed?” 

“Bed,” you answer immediately. 

“...right. But are you gonna get up and go to the bed?” 

You make a thoughtful humming sound, grasping him tighter. “Probably not. Maybe you could carry me?” 

A sigh, long and dramatic. “Yeah, maybe I could.” Eddie’s hands move to grip you more securely, and he grunts as he stands. “You’re seriously lucky you’re cute, trouble.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x self insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #tw panic attack #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader

[vivwritescrappythings]

Silence

eddie munson x reader

the five times you asked eddie to be quiet (and the one time he was)

tw: ANGST, but also fluff?, hurt no comfort, blood, death, trauma, reader is gender neutral (i think), kissing, alcohol, mentions of drug use, reader is shorter than eddie.

wc: 8.5k

masterlist

—

i.

The first time you discovered that Eddie Munson was an unstoppable force of nature all bottled into the lanky body of a nineteen-year-old boy, it was at work. 

The Hawkins Library was not frequently visited on Friday evenings, your shift often filled with the sound of you restocking books on shelves and the squeaky wheel of the cart you pushed around. So you instantly noticed the loud, raucous voice interrupting the calm evening like a knife through butter. 

It fired you up, your brow furrowing as you abandoned the cart of returned books to discover the source of the noise. There were a few people lingering in the plush chairs scattered through the atrium that looked up at you as you stormed past, the jingle of the keys around your neck punctuating your steps. 

You were young to be working at the library, you were the only person there who was under the age of forty, let alone just nineteen. You liked books, didn’t mind a quiet workplace, and the Hawkins Library had an opening that you managed to squeeze into. There weren’t any other plans in your future, so you figured the library wasn’t a horrible place to end up.

It wasn’t hard to recognize Eddie Munson. He still wore his denim vest over his leather jacket, the patches haphazardly sewn on in uneven stitches. He made it during your senior year of high school… well, his first senior year of high school. You thought he was on his second round, at least that was what you’d heard from Nancy. The frizzy, curly hair on his head was the same, but he had it pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck. Hellfire club was seated at a table, the actual boys having changed but they still wore the same shirts.

“Roll for initiative!” Eddie’s voice had a theatrical fullness to it. There was an authenticity to him that you envied.

“You can’t shout like that in here,” you barked in your best attempt at an authoritative tone, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood behind Eddie. You said it a bit louder than was acceptable, wanting to make sure you were heard over the clatter on dice on the wooden table.

He looked like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar when he turned to look at you, a kiss-ass smile on his face.

“You need to quiet down,” you said, looking at the minions before their ringleader. The boys shied away from your gaze, looking down at the hands and the hand-drawn map in front of them. Eddie, their fearless leader, approached you and took the full heat of your stare.

“Aw c’mon,” Eddie softly whined, clutching his hands to his chest as he started to plead with you. You noticed that his eyes were puppy-dog brown as his lip jutted out far enough to cast a shadow from the overhead lighting.

You scoffed slightly, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the drama room, Munson?” 

Hellfire had taken a residency there your sophomore year of high school, meeting every Friday night to play Dungeons and Dragons. Eddie had even gotten himself a throne, the self-declared king of the misfits. 

“They’re repainting it and threw us out,” he finally sighed, stopping his approach when he was just a foot away from you. “Please, take us strays in. We’re cold… winter’s here…” His voice trailed off pathetically as Eddie pretended to crumble to his knees in front of you.

You managed to stay stoic for a few moments, your arms still folded over your chest in disapproval as one of your eyebrows ticked up. Eddie had always been talented at making a spectacle of himself.

He finally broke you, pretending to sob as he lightly tugged on your cardigan. His little whimper for your mercy made you roll your eyes despite the fact that you cracked a smile. A soft laugh huffed from your nostrils, making you shake your head.

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he would get up sooner rather than later. “But you owe me.”

He clambered to his feet, adjusting his vest and leather jacket as he flashed you a sincere, boyish smile. Your heart stuttered at the sight of it. His pink lips briefly shut, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he looked you up and down. “How about I make it up to you with dinner? Maybe tomorrow?”

Your cheeks heated up as you slid from bossy to bashful. “Dinner? Um, sure,” you murmured, your fingers reaching up to press at the nape of your neck as a small smile formed on your face. You’d never considered dating Eddie, but as soon as he offered you found yourself readily agreeing. 

The Hellfire boys giggled amongst themselves and elbowed one another. The sound of their chuckles reminded you that you were at work, making you draw yourself up once more.

“But keep it down!” you reminded him sharply, some of your composure returning as you started to turn away from Eddie and his retinue.

“Of course we will,” he said in an exaggerated whisper, winking as he placed a finger against his lips. You knew it was a complete lie, even as he crossed his fingers over his heart and jostled the buttons pinned to his breast pocket. After a moment you nodded, leaving the group to themselves as you made your way back to your cart of books.

As soon as you rounded the corner you heard what you came to recognize as Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice booming out across the library. 

ii.

It was only your third date when you’d learned that Eddie was thoughtful: an evening spent walking around the new shopping mall completed with seeing a movie in the attached theater. 

You didn’t think your dinner would end so well, ending up with you two talking late into the night before you’d parted ways. You found yourself calling him to ask him for a second date, having to leave an awkward message with his uncle.

The second was even better, the two of you watching movies you’d rented from Family Video on your thrift store couch in your too-small apartment. What started with awkward smiles each time your hands touched or knees bumped morphed into Eddie clumsily pressing a kiss to your lips in the blue-tinted darkness. 

He started this date with a kiss, curling an arm around your waist as you walked up to his van and pulling you in for a quick stamp of his lips on yours. It was so easy, it felt like you’d been kissing for months rather than the first time a few days prior. You melted into it, finding yourself a bit lightheaded as he opened the door for you and ushered you into the passenger seat.

Walking around the mall included his fingers wrapping around yours, splitting a milkshake in the food court, and a long excursion to the arcade. 

You were amazed with just how boisterous he was. Eddie was so expressive, moving your hand with his as he talked about his band and his hopes to someday leave Hawkins. You listened like a disciple, wide-eyed and enamored. Life exuded from his every movement, a broad smile on his face as he jumped up to walk on the rim of one of the planters.

But he surprised you by actually steering the conversation your way, making you go into Waldenbooks to listen to you talk about your favorite books and Tape World so you could pick out your favorite songs. You didn’t know until later that he had gone back the next day to buy everything you’d picked up so he could surprise you–that’s how smitten he was.

You told him about how you liked the library but wanted to feel like you were really doing something with your life. He listened as you rambled, his eyes taking in the way you smiled and looked around when you talked and how you swung your intertwined hands even more aggressively to make your points.

He told you later that it was that moment he knew he was in love.

But, nevertheless, you two found your way to the movie theater and sat down in the back of one to watch The Breakfast Club with a blue raspberry ICEE shoved into the cupholder between the two of you. Eddie had only asked the boy at the snack counter for one straw, forcing you to share it.

He talked through every movie trailer, his sarcastic commentary making you laugh under your breath as the two of you looked at one another like co-conspirators. Eddie went out of his way to ask which ones you wanted to go see when they came out. He planned outings with you in barely-hushed whispers, already asking if you liked midnight premieres or Tuesday afternoon movies and if you liked to sit in the middle or the back of the theater.

Midnight premiers. The back of the theater.

Eddie made sure you never missed a movie you’d been talking about, showing up at your apartment at half an hour to midnight to whisk you away to the Starcourt Cinema. He always made sure you sat in the back, once even making some kids he knew from Hellfire club move out of the way so you two could have a seat. You saw so many movies that you could hardly keep track of them.

But this one was special because it was the first. When the lights went dark he didn’t change his volume, his hot chocolate eyes focusing on you like you were the only person in the world. 

“Eddie, the movie’s starting,” you whispered, nodding your chin toward the screen as you leaned toward him. You reached around the cup to hold his hand, the cool condensation clinging to the outside of it smearing along your forearm as your temple nudged his shoulder. “You gotta be quiet.”

“Hmm?” He turned to look at the screen, letting out a soft ‘oh’ as he squeezed your hand once. 

It only took him a moment to talk again. “Detention s’not like that, you know,” he informed you, his voice still well above a whisper. 

iii.

It was early for a Monday when Eddie had imprinted himself on your heart like the tattoo on your hip. 

It was your day off and Eddie’s as he hadn’t started school quite yet. He was still asleep, probably sprawling out on your bed like an overgrown starfish and snoring into the pillow on your side of the bed. You’d discovered that you were the early bird of your pair, you often rose well before Eddie was ready to be cognizant. You held your breath and tiptoed while getting out of bed to brew coffee and watch television with the volume turned down low.

You were clad in his Iron Maiden shirt, having staked your claim on it when you started keeping it in your dresser drawers. It was the tail-end of the dog days of summer, loose sleep shorts on your legs as you sat in front of a fan you’d set up in your living room. Eddie was hogging the one in your bedroom, conveniently setting it up on his side of the bed.

Your coffee had long gone lukewarm, the unforgiving August sun stretching in your living room through the curtains as you sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. The television provided white noise, some game show playing while you idly sketched on the notepad in front of you. 

It was a monster for Eddie’s campaign, he’d been describing it all night and you couldn’t get it out of your head. You didn’t consider yourself much of an artist, but Eddie always praised you like you were Picasso reincarnate. You drew his monsters all the time, he kept the loose pieces of paper tucked away in the beaten-up notebook he always carried around.

The groan of your air conditioner ruined your perfect morning, the machine finally giving out like it had been threatening to for the past few weeks. Cool air stopped trickling through the vent in your kitchen as you fished a partially burnt piece of toast from the toaster. 

“Fucking of course,” you sighed, dropping the toast on the chipped Snoopy plate you refused to get rid of. The motions of buttering the bread and spreading jam kept your hands occupied, your bare foot tapping against the tile as you wondered who to call to fix it. You had the landlord’s phone number written somewhere, rifling through your mental checklist of places it could be. 

Eddie emerged from your bedroom as you’re rifling through your junk drawer, emptying the contents onto the kitchen counter. What possessed you to keep all this crap? There were too many odds and ends to count, loose batteries and bobbins of thread and scraps of paper and a spring rolling across the ivory tiles. 

“What’s got you in crazy tornado mode this early in the morning?” Eddie asked, approaching with slow, groggy steps as he rubbed his eyes. He stood behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. 

“Air conditioner broke.” You jolted when you found the crumpled slip of paper where you’d scrawled the phone number, holding it up like treasure you’d dug out of the ground.

Eddie chuckled, letting you go with a kiss to your temple before he disappeared into the bathroom. Your gaze followed him as he did, noting that he’d taken his shirt off at some point. The swirling black lines of his tattoos were on full display as you dialed the number, twisting the phone cord around your finger. 

Seeing Eddie without all his garb felt like a special privilege. The first time he slept over he’d stripped to just red checkered boxers and his socks, letting you stare wide-eyed at the tattoos that littered his skin. The two of you had stayed up talking about them until the sun was rising, Eddie’s cheeks tinted pink every time you reached out to trace the designs. 

You particularly loved the wonky stick and poke tattoo he’d given himself above his left knee, big block letters that said DUNGEON MASTER but were slightly wobbly. He was embarrassed when you’d asked him to give you one.

There were no tattoos on your skin when Eddie had you lay down on the floor of his room in the trailer, kneeling over you with a needle shoved in the end of a pencil eraser. You noticed he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated, worried about messing up the placement of the lines. It stung, the first poke making you squirm and forcing him to smooth a big hand on your stomach to keep you still.

You traced the shape of the healed star tattooed just above the waistband of your shorts as you leaned against the wall near your phone, some of the lines were a little crooked but you didn’t care. 

“Mr. Frask’s Office.” The shrill voice brought your attention back. Mr. Frask was one of the biggest landlords in Hawkins, some rich investor from Indiana who owned a bunch of buildings they constructed near the outskirts of town.

“Hi, um, my air conditioner broke down and I need someone to come out here and fix it,” you said, turning so your back was to the bathroom door as you twisted the spiral phone cord up and down your index finger. There was a crackle of static on the other end of the line, you could hear the woman shifting around papers on her desk.

She asked you which complex you lived in, making you stretch the phone cord as far as it could go as you leaned toward the big window in your living room. “Um, Appletree West?” It sounded like more of a question than an answer despite the fact that you were staring at the wooden sign at the entrance of the parking lot.

You hardly could process what was happening before your instincts had you moving. A cold, wet press to the nape of your neck made you yelp straight into the receiver as you twisted away from it. Drops rolled down your spine, the cool water making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

Eddie snickered behind you, letting the ice cube he was holding slide down the back of your shirt. You made a strangled noise, completely forgetting about the phone as you yanked your shirt with your free hand and let the ice cube fall to the carpet.

“Are you okay?” The voice on the phone was quiet, fighting over the short distance to your ear as the woman reminded you of her presence.

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie. “Yeah, sorry about that. There’s some crazy guy running around outside, caught me by surprise,” you said, shooting Eddie a glare over your shoulder. He grinned wide, dimples showing as you rolled your eyes.

You smothered the receiver with your palm. “Eddie, I’m on the phone,” you hissed, scolding him as you returned to where the phone hook was on the wall.

He followed amiably like a puppy, standing right behind you as you turned away from him in an attempt to hide your smile. Lanky arms curled around your waist, nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. His fingertips drummed a beat against your abdomen.

“What unit number?” the woman asked, sounding bored.

“Unit 1-12.” Eddie licked a long, wet stripe up the side of your throat, his warm tongue pressed flat and wide against your skin. You made a strangled sound, his arms keeping you from squirming away as you pushed his head away with your free hand. 

“Ask if they can make your upstairs neighbor stop fucking that lady so loud,” he whispered in your ear, making it hard to concentrate on what the woman on the phone was asking. Your upstairs neighbors had been going at it pretty loud as of late, their yowls making them sound more like crappy pornstars than an actual couple.

You covered the microphone with your hand, turning to glare. “Eddie, I’m on the phone. Can you please be quiet?” 

He smirked, loving to get a rise out of you. “You never pay attention to me.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to wrap up the phone call as soon as possible as Eddie continued to mutter nonsense into your ear. The property manager would be coming by in a few hours, the woman rattling off information that prompted you to hum and nod as though you were in the room with her.

Eddie’s hands started to snake beneath the hem of the shirt you wore, his calloused fingertips snapping the waistband of your underwear lightly. He pressed wet, noisy kisses down your throat and beneath the spot on your ear that made you shiver.

“Thank you!” you squeaked into the phone, a blush creeping up on your face. You hung up before the woman had time to respond.

You turned in Eddie’s embrace, his shit-eating grin was wide as he backed you up until you were trapped against the wall. “You are incorrigible, Edward Munson,” you scolded, lips scrunching to one side and nose wrinkling in an attempt to hide the smile on your face.

He snickered, his chocolate brown gaze taking in your expression before he leaned down to worm his way into a kiss. It was quick and chaste, when he pulled away you found yourself following his lips as though an invisible string connected you. He tasted minty like your toothpaste. “I love when you talk librarian to me,” he murmured, a huff of a laugh breathing over you.

“Library assistant,” you corrected, tracing the spider tattoo just beneath his left collarbone. 

It was already starting to get warm in your apartment, soon the two of you would be too hot to even talk to one another if the air conditioning didn’t get fixed. 

He hummed his understanding, nodding. “Library assistant, that’s wicked hot.” 

iv.

New Year’s Eve was when Eddie had promised you a future.

The party was a whirlwind. 

Hawkins parties tended to be on the stranger side, especially during the holidays. No one had anything better to do, and everyone was back home with their parents for the break. The annual New Year’s Eve house party was an amalgamation of high school and college students crammed into an unsuspecting family’s home. The family of 1985 was the Perkins family, their respectable home in one of the more spacious neighborhoods. Apparently Carol’s parents had gone out of town to celebrate, letting her and her younger sister have run of the place. 

Eddie forced you to come along, he had spent the past day rolling joints to sell at a ridiculous markup and didn’t want to go alone. You’d wanted to have a night at home, maybe invite some of your friends over for something small. But he begged, using his sweet puppy-dog eyes against you until your resolve crumbled. Ever the dutiful girlfriend, you went with him under the stipulation that he had to drive. 

The music was loud inside the house, the lights were dim and people were everywhere you looked. Eddie had melded into a corner, his metal lunch box at his side. You could feel his gaze on you across the room as you talked with some of your friends, giggling over red solo cups filled with drinks that were too strong. 

You’d found your way back to Eddie nearly every ten minutes, his gaze on your spine pulling you over to him like a moth to a flame. It didn’t matter if he was in the middle of a deal, you always clambered onto the couch next to him and nuzzled in close. 

It was getting late when you’d flopped onto the couch that time. “Hi Ed,” you whispered into his ear, your voice getting a bit wobbly as the tipsiness settled into your bones. Your drink swirled dangerously in the cup, making Eddie confiscate it with a chuckle and set it on the end table next to him. He pocketed the cash, the teenager scurrying away with a newly purchased joint between their fingers.

Eddie turned to look at you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as his arm curled around your back. “Hey, how you feeling?” he asked, his voice low as he gently knocked his forehead against yours. You practically beamed under his affection.

Your friends were watching, smiling to one another as they watched Eddie smooth a piece of hair behind your ear. The whole conversation that evening had been focused on how good he was for you, and how you seemed to blossom in a way they had never seen with your previous relationships. Despite his rough exterior, Eddie was the sweetest person you’d ever met: empathetic and kind and boisterous. You’d never been with anyone like him.

“M’good, just missed you,” you mumbled, your fingertips tracing along the borders of the patches on his vest. It was close to midnight, the two of you just a little over ten minutes away from 1986. The energy in the party was already starting to buzz, more and more attention focused on wristwatches and the clocks on the walls.

He grinned, his free hand pulling a strand of his curly hair over his mouth as he started to look bashful. “Yeah? I’ve been right here the whole time, no reason to miss me,” he said, making you roll your eyes. 

Another teen approached, making Eddie wave them away with a flick of his hand as he stood. You moved with him, your fingers twined together as he tucked his lunch box under his arm and started to weave through the crowd. “Just wanna spend time with me and you,” he said as he brought you up a flight of stairs off the living room. 

You agreed, nodding as he started opening doors in the long upstairs hallway. Bedrooms were full, most of the doors locked or really should have been locked. A fit of giggles erupted from the two of you when you opened a door to see a tangle of limbs on the bed, an embarrassed yelp from the pair and profuse apologies spilling from your lips as you slammed the door shut.

“Maybe I should just start doing that to you out here in the hall,” Eddie suggested, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he cornered you against the wall. He set the lunch box at his feet.

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, your hands finding his biceps as you stretched up to kiss him. His lips were soft as always, your tongue darting out to taste him. Cigarettes and beer and your strawberry flavored chapstick he kept in his pocket just in case you asked for it. 

His hands found your waist, smoothing to the curve of it as he shuffled forward, his Reebocks nudging against your Converse as he pressed the length of your body against his. “S’all dark up here, no one would even know.” He was halfway between teasing and telling the truth, his umber eyes sparkling with mischief even in the low light.

You giggled again, shaking your head. “You can just take me home if you want to do that, Ed,” you said softly, biting your lower lip.

Excited whispers began downstairs. One minute left until midnight. 

The thrill of New Year’s Eve had often been lost on you, it was just another day, just another year. It never meant anything to you besides the passage of time, crossing days off the calendar as the clock ticked. New Year’s Eve was just a night where you got a little too drunk and maybe kissed a stranger if you were feeling bold.

But the last day of 1985 was different. You had plans, goals for the first time in a long time. You had college lined up in Indianapolis in August, you and Eddie were going to move out of your hellhole of a small town and actually start your lives. He was going to graduate, find a job at a record store in the city and keep making music with Corroded Coffin. He’d make it someday, you could tell from the tapes you’d been passing around at your college tours–people really liked them.

“I love you,” you whispered in the dark, looking up at Eddie with adoration written clearly over your expression. 

A sweet kiss to your nose followed, making you scrunch it up. “I love you too,” he murmured, leaning in further so his frizzy, curly hair blocked your view of the rest of the dark hallway. “Eighty-six is our year, right?”

There was a hint of nervousness, you could see the seedling of fear in him that you would disagree. You didn’t understand how Eddie could think that you’d ever doubt him, not when you looked at him like he had single-handedly hung the moon and the stars. 

You nodded instantly. “Of course, nothing’s gonna stop us.”

Everyone was counting down, voices shouting and the shuffling of feet as people figured out who they were going to be with when 1985 morphed into 1986. This was the first year since you were a little kid that you didn’t have to scramble to figure something out, content as you and Eddie blended into each other in the shadows of the upstairs hall.

Your voices were hushed, whispering numbers to one another in a way that was so sappy and soppy that you thought it couldn’t possibly be real. He couldn’t possibly be yours.

Eddie kissed you at midnight, so eager that your noses mashed together and your teeth collided. You were smiling into it, holding him as close as you could as your mouth melded to his. You’d kissed him often, dozens of times a day, but it always felt just as electric as the first time he’d kissed you. 

And that was how your New Year’s kiss felt, giddy and eager and had your heart swelling in a way that made you think it would explode. He pulled away first, smiling down at you for another moment. “Eighty-six, baby!” he whooped, so loud that it pulled a startled laugh from you.

“Eddie!” you squeaked, your fingers pressing over your mouth. “You gotta be quiet.” You were never serious when you asked him to hush, he always knew that.

“Eighty-six is gonna be our year,” he said again, albeit much softer as he stooped down to pull you into another kiss.

v.

It was March when you learned that Eddie thought he was a coward. 

A fist pounding on your front door pulled you from the clutches of sleep. You had a long day and had passed out early, the bright red numbers on your alarm clock informing you that it was only a few minutes after ten. 

It was hard to get out of bed, your mind still swirling with the confusion of waking up abruptly as you sat up and rubbed your eyes with your palms. The knocking didn’t stop, if anything it had increased in tempo. Another moment later your feet were shoved into slippers and you were blinking sleep out of your eyes as you made your way across the tiny apartment. 

Your movements were slow and languid until you looked through the peephole: you’d never seen Eddie look so terrified in his life. His eyes were wide, every speck of color drained from his face and his expression gaunt. 

It only took you a second to wrench open your door after panic made you fumble with the lock, Eddie’s arms immediately wrapping around you as he nearly knocked you onto the floor.

“Eddie, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice raspy from sleep as you managed to catch yourself. The majority of his weight was leaning on you, his face tucked into your neck as he pulled in labored breaths. You ran your fingers up and down his sides, your arms trapped against your body as he clung to you.

It was Hellfire night, the end of his big campaign. He’d been talking about it for weeks, ranting and raving about Vecna and how hard it would be for the Hellfire boys to beat him. You couldn’t think of anything that would make him react like this.

“Chr-Chrissy Cunningham,” he finally muttered against your neck, pitching you even further into the deep end of the pool. Your brows drew together as you nodded in an attempt to get him to talk more. He’d told you about the weird request she had for something stronger than weed, how he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to sell to her. The two of you had met up after he got out of school, sitting in the back of his van as you shared a bag of chips before you had to work. You’d just shrugged, telling him to go with his gut.

“Did something happen, Ed?” you asked, your voice soft. Worry took root in the pit of your stomach as you whirred through scenarios. It could’ve been anything, really. She could’ve taken too much, or could’ve had an accident or ratted him out. Or said something to him, she was a cheerleader after all and Eddie was sensitive beneath his carefully constructed exoskeleton. 

The thought that something else could have happened spiked through you, the recesses of your mind reminding you that Chrissy Cunningham had always been a cute, sweet girl whenever she checked out books at the library. She had stunning eyes, and always asked you about yourself. That could be something Eddie wanted, a girl much sweeter than you. You pushed the thought away.

You swallowed thickly, reminding yourself of the situation at hand. He still held you close, your front door wide open and revealing the clear night outside. “Eddie, you gotta talk to me,” you whispered again, squirming in his tight grip.

He shook his head, a pathetic whimper pulling from his throat in a way that broke your heart. There was desperation in the way he pulled you closer, crushing you into his chest. You didn’t protest, letting him work through his thoughts. A breeze floated through your door, carrying in the chilly March air and making you shiver in your flimsy pajamas.

“She’s dead,” he said, and the floodgate opened as your heart stopped. “I don’t know what happened. I was in my room getting the ketamine and I came out and she was, like, in this trance. And I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me but she literally lifted off the ground and her eyes rolled back and–oh fuck–her bones started breaking like it was a horror movie and she fell on the ground and her eyes were sucked out of her head. Idon’tknowwhathappened.”

He didn’t breathe once as he rambled. All the air sucked out of the room as you processed what he was saying. Dead. The kind, sweet cheerleader was dead. Poor girl, cut down her senior year just before life opened up to a whole world outside of Hawkins. She was the town sweetheart, known by all and loved almost as much. 

And the last person that saw her was Eddie.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. “We need to go,” you finally said, snapping back to yourself. Normally Eddie was the one who took charge, he figured out the plans or solved the problems caused by your neuroticism. But in his time of need you found yourself naturally taking up the mantle.

“What?” he whispered, seemingly caught off guard as he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. His huge hands were on your shoulders, you could feel him trembling. “What do you mean?”

You gently placed a hand on his face, watching how Eddie flinched before he leaned into your touch. It made you want to bring him to your room and bundle him up in your quilt to protect him from the world.  “Did this happen in the trailer?” you asked, your thumb stroking on his cheekbone. 

He nodded, not quite grasping what you were saying. “Then we need to go, whoever finds that body is gonna think you did it.” His eyes widened in a way that told you he hadn’t considered that. “We need to get out of here.” There was urgency in your tone as you slipped from his hold, moving in a blur.

You were dressed with a backpack in hand in minutes, working Eddie’s keys from his pocket as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him after you. He was in shock, clumsy and slow as he followed you. There was the soft whisper of him talking to himself under his breath as you charged down the stairs to your second-story apartment. There was no argument as you got into the driver’s seat of the van, peeling out of the spot as soon as Eddie buckled into the passenger side. 

“Reefer Rick’s out of town,” Eddie mumbled after a few minutes of driving, looking out the windshield in the dark. You didn’t know he could seem so empty, like someone had cracked him open and spilled all of his joy out. It made you feel helpless. You nodded, driving toward Lover’s Lake like you had stolen the van, cutting corners and running lights the further you got from town.

The description of Chrissy’s body was stuck with you, her limbs akimbo as she cooled on the carpeted floor of the trailer. You thought about what Eddie said, your brow furrowing as you tried to piece it all together to make a picture that felt like reality. It made no sense, sounding like something out of a Stephen King novel. But you believed that he didn’t do it. 

There was no way your Eddie could do something like that. He cried when he accidentally ran over a squirrel that crossed the street at the wrong time, he wasn’t a killer.

The two of you left the van parked a ways into the woods, hiking the rest of the distance to Reefer Rick’s in silence. Eddie startled every time a stick cracked under your feet, nearly jumping out of his skin as you reached out and slotted your fingers between his. You could tell his nerves were frayed as he barely held it together, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you gently guided him forward.

The house was locked, leading the two of you to the boathouse for shelter. Eddie tested to see if the door was unlocked as you looked anxiously over your shoulders as though the police had followed you there. There was no way they could have, the only people who knew Chrissy was dead were you and Eddie… you kept repeating it in your head. Wayne would find her in the morning when he got home from work, you would have until then to figure something out.

The door swung open and Eddie stepped out of the way to let you in. The boathouse was full of crap, boxes and small boats strewn about, tarps thrown over various items and disguising their shapes.  

“We’ll figure out what to do next,” you breathed with a sigh as Eddie shut the door. You realized that you were trying to soothe yourself more than him as you pulled on the chain for an overhead bulb, setting your backpack down as you looked around. 

“I didn’t do it.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, he nervously stood in front of you. His rings flashed as he wrung his hands together, brown eyes wide as he settled his gaze on a boat. You traced the silhouette of his throat and Adam’s apple, his pale skin standing out against his dark hair as you looked at his profile.

You walked over to him, pulling him into a soft embrace. “I know you didn’t, Ed,” you whispered, guiding his head into the curve of your neck. “Never thought you did, I promise.”

The sob he let out was devastating, he took big lumbering steps that moved the two of you to one of the boats that had been discarded. He guided you back onto it, crushed beneath his weight as he started to cry into your neck. The tears were hot against your skin, rolling over your throat and soaking into the collar of your sweatshirt as you held him.

You shushed him softly, running your fingers through his curly hair as you tried to soothe Eddie. “I-I didn’t do it, I swear,” he pleaded against your neck, his voice loud enough to make you nervous as you looked out the windows dotting the living room walls.

“I know, I know,” you murmured, pressing your lips to the side of his head. “You gotta keep it down, we don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

He huffed, nodding against you as he pulled you even closer. “I just ran away like a coward,” he sighed, voice cracking as he started to hiccup. “How… how could I do that? Just leave her there? I should’ve done something, should’ve called the cops.” 

You shook your head in disagreement. “Ed, anyone would’ve been scared. It’s not like something normal happened.” You didn’t know what else to say, there was nothing you could tell him that would make it better. No matter what, there was still a dead girl on the floor of his trailer. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”

There wasn’t a moment of silence until Eddie fell asleep, you whispered platitudes to him in the dim light. The rough wood of the dinghy dug into your back, but you didn’t dare move a muscle as you felt Eddie start to relax and fall asleep in your arms.

i.

It was only a few days later when your whole world fell apart.

Buying more time. 

Buying more time.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you burst from the Upside Down version of the Munson trailer, a sickening crunch and Dustin’s scream echoing behind you. The sound of the poor kid getting hurt almost made you stop and turn around. Almost.

But you couldn’t, you could only keep going as you thought about your sweet idiot of a boyfriend. How dare he risk himself like that? Didn’t he know that you couldn’t make it, that you couldn’t live without him? If he did, he didn’t seem to take it into account when he cut the rope connecting the Upside Down and Hawkins, running off into battle.

You screamed as the column of bats took Eddie to the ground by his neck. They were pulling at his limbs, scratching and biting him. What did he think that fucking trashcan lid and broom spear would do? Your legs were moving now, sprinting faster than you ever even knew you could. The ground was rocky and uneven, but you somehow kept planting one foot in front of the other. Some distant part of your brain heard Dustin behind you, his shouts matching your own.

Eddie was screaming so loud. 

It was the ugliest noise you had ever heard in your life, each one cutting through your heart.

Then the bats fell, the sudden swarm dropping out of the sky like pathetic rubber toys as you reached where Eddie was sprawled on the ground. You stepped on their carcasses in an effort to get to him faster, almost slipping as their thin bones crunched beneath your feet. Blood covered his face and neck, soaking into the white fabric on his Hellfire shirt as you fell to your knees next to him.

“Eddie!” Your voice was too loud, too tight in your throat. Tears were already leaking from your eyes as you knelt over him, your hands vibrating in the air as you hesitated to touch him. It was like everything was frozen as you took in the sheer amount of crimson. There was so much blood, it pooled in every nook and cranny of his body as he slowly looked up at you.

Dustin was soon to follow, limping as he fell on Eddie’s other side. Eddie’s brown eyes rolled in his skull a little as he looked at Dustin, the teen’s face crumpled in anguish. “Bad, huh?” Eddie asked, films of blood bubbling at his pink lips as he spoke.

Yeah. The worst.

Dustin vehemently denied it, speaking where you couldn’t. There were promises of a hospital thrown out there along with the idea that Eddie would get better. He helped you hoist Eddie up, your arms cradling his torso as you pulled him into your lap. You knew it was over when Eddie cried out for a second, but you nodded, your free hand falling to his cheek as you looked down at him.

God, why did he have to be so selfless?

It only took Eddie a moment to smile as he looked up at you. But you could see the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, the way they slid down his temples and into the frizzy mess of his hair. “I didn’t run away this time, right?” his voice was tight and strangled, the sound of it so foreign coming out of Eddie’s mouth. Rowdy, boisterous Eddie, reduced to raspy whispers.

“No, you didn’t,” you managed to gasp, your voice wobbly as you found your breath. It came in harsh inhales, like you were about to drown. “You didn’t run.”

“You gotta do everything we said we would,” Eddie said, watching as you started to cry. It was still stoic enough, a few tears running down your cheeks. “You gotta go to college and live in Indianapolis and become a writer.” 

It was impossible to even imagine your dreams, Eddie was there in every single one. You shook your head, your throat closing as you pressed your lips together in a stubborn line. “I can’t,” you sounded so pathetic, “I can’t without you, Ed.” 

Thunder cracked over your head, red lightning illuminating the roiling, stormy sky. It sounded like Eddie was choking with each breath, blood bubbling in his throat. Dustin reached out to you, his hand clasping your shoulder as your heads bowed together, temples knocking as you both tried to keep your misery at bay. At least for now.

“You’re gonna, you’re gonna do it all for me,” Eddie argued, his breaths shortening. “You never needed me for any of it, anyways. You were always too smart for me.”

You whined, hardly even able to breathe. “Shut up,” you mumbled, your trembling fingers tightening on Eddie’s jacket in some desperate attempt to keep him with you for longer. “I need you, I need you with me. I don’t know…” You couldn’t even finish what you were saying.

“Dustin, you promise me you’re gonna take care of everyone, the little sheepies.” There was an unspoken promise that Dustin would be taking care of you as well. He denied Eddie the same way you did, mumbling that he wouldn’t have to because Eddie would be there to do it himself. But, Eddie was just as smart as he was stubborn, forcing a promise out of the teenager.

“I love you,” Eddie said, his gaze shifting back to yours. He was starting to look hazy, his brown eyes having trouble focusing on your face. His vibrancy was slipping away.

“I love you so much, baby,” you whispered, molars digging into your cheek as you tried to keep the tears stinging at your eyes from falling. The iron taste of your blood filled your mouth. “I love you more than anything in the world.” Your bottom lip wouldn’t stop trembling, your entire life falling out from under you as your blood-streaked fingers smoothed the hair curling out from under Eddie’s bandana.

Eddie’s breath turned into choking, Dustin saying his name over and over again. You watched his eyes slip from yours, the furrow in his brow smoothing out. The awful choking sound continued, his throat struggling for hair as his head turned to match the slope of your thigh. “Eddie…” you sobbed as you let the knot in your throat release, watching the last glimmer of light disappear from him, the sound of his labored breath fading to nothing.

You’d never heard a silence so deafening. 

He was so quiet, so still. Eddie had never done anything quietly in his life. Everything about him was vibrant and genuine, he spent every moment pouring himself out into the world for greedy people like you to gobble up. There was never a moment Eddie wasn’t trying to make someone laugh, bending over backwards for just a smile. He spent hours dreaming up songs for his band, writing down stories he would then perform for his friends over the Dungeons and Dragons table. Hell, he even talked in his sleep.

It had always been you who told him to quiet down, but you never meant it. A world without Eddie was a world devoid of color, of life.

Now that you knew his silence, you regretted every second you’d ever asked him to be quiet. 

Dustin was crying, the noise bringing you back into the present. You didn’t realize that you had been speaking, begging Eddie to come back to you, to say something. It felt like you were falling, tumbling end over end as your whole life was ripped from your fingers. 

Did you ever stop falling? Was there ever Wonderland at the end of the tunnel, or did it just go on forever? 

You clutched Eddie’s still-warm body as close as you could, rocking back and forth as you screamed your throat raw. You didn’t know that anything could hurt so much, almost convinced that the gaping hole in your chest was real. Dustin was right there with you, an arm across your back as he sobbed into your shoulder. 

You wished it was you instead, that Eddie was cradling your dead body on his lap. He would be able to recover, to move on. In your fantasy you could see him becoming a huge rockstar that wrote sad ballads about his past lover. Time would heal his wounds.

But for you? Time felt like it had stopped, the entire world paused to mourn the death of one of its best and brightest alongside you. There wasn’t even thunder overhead, just the sound of you and Dustin. 

There was no way to tell how long had passed when Steve pulled you off of Eddie, shouting that you needed to go. Nancy and Robin had already yanked Dustin to his feet, Eddie’s guitar pick necklace dangling from his fist as the teen struggled against them. 

“Just… just let me…” you mumbled, flinching away from Steve’s arms as you plucked Eddie’s gaudy costume rings from his cooling fingers and hastily shoved them in the pockets of your jeans. You lifted him just enough to slip his vest from his shoulders, easing his limp arms through the holes where the sleeves had once been as gently as you could. It was bloody, there were rips in the fabric. 

You could see where he’d stitched your name beneath the flap in the collar, the embroidery haphazard and clumsy and so genuine that it hurt. Another scream ripped from you, your arms curling around Eddie’s shoulders on instinct as you pulled his limp form back to you.

Maybe if you held him long enough he would come back, laughing about how it was a misunderstanding of some elaborate prank he’d decided to pull. He would promise you that he was okay, making you taste the costume blood just to assure you that it was fake. Then he would grab your face between his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips, and you’d make him swear to never do something like that ever again because it felt like a part of you had died with him.

But he didn’t do any of those things. 

It took Steve forcing you off of him, arms locked around your waist and hauling you up from the ground. You thrashed and screamed and kicked, fighting him every step of the way as he dragged you back to the trailer. He was talking to you, but you couldn’t understand a word he said over your cries. 

Even as Steve forced you back through the gate to Hawkins, you could only think about how you’d never seen Eddie so quiet.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #this one hurt #cried while writing it #stranger things season 4 #joseph quinn #st s4 #eddie munson fic

[mrsrdlw]

Am i your muse?

summary: Eddie is writing you a song

wc: 450

note: Hey!!! I took this headcannon from a guy on tiktok but i lost the video :(. Since i don’t have it, i wrote down my version of it. I hope you enjoy it!

You were sitting in your bed, Eddie was writing things in his notebook, on the floor. But he was there for two hours now since he came to your home, after band practice. Since you were reading, you didn’t pay much attention on it and just let him have his privacy. But you were too curious to just watch and do nothing.

-Hey Eds, you’re a bit quiet. That’s kind of unusual for you- You said making him giggle- You good?

That made him look at you, hiding his work from you.

-Sure i am, sweetheart! I’m just a little… busy.- And with that, he came back to look down

You tried something else.

-What’re you doing there? Is it for a campaign?- You crawled in his direction and he moved away

-Huh, no. This is something else.

-Oh really? Is it a new song for the band?

-Kind of… Not for the band though- He mumbled getting nervous with you getting closer and closer.

-A song? Hmm- You tried to see but he wouldn’t. That’s when it clicked in your head- No way! You’re writing me a song? Am i your muse?

He looked at you a little disappointed, probably because you ruined his surprise, but amused by your excitement.

-Yeah… It was supposed to be a surprise, you know.- He smiled at you and you hid your own mumbling a low “sorry”- It’s alright, i’m still working on it though.

He was looking at the notebook as if there was a giant math calculation to be solved. He was very harsh on himself.

-Can i see it?- You dared, almost jumping on him. But his reflexes were good and he got up really fast.

-No no no! It is not ready yet! It needs to be perfect and i still need to make the perfect melody. You’re too greedy baby, hold your horses.

-Sorry, i just got excited.- You sat back on your bed- Can you tell me what is it about?

-Just, uh, how beautiful you are. The way you got me just by looking at me and… how hot you are.

Your cheeks flushed by his words and the way he looked at you- Promise you’ll show me when it’s finished?

-Without a doubt, baby. But that might take a while. I seem to be stuck here…

-Really? Well i…- Like the little devil on your shoulder whispered in your ear, you said- You want some help with that? I mean, since that’s what your song is about?

He gave you a mischievous grin, got up, taking his jacket off and laid you back. The notebook, long forgotten. He whispered very close to your lips “I think that is a great idea” finally closing the gap between you two.

If you have any ideas/requests/headcannons you can send me anytime, my inbox is open:)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female character #new post

[cannibalsforbreakfast]

Cruel Summer - Chapter 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The "Eddie Munson is a speedway racer" high school AU no one asked for, but you're getting it anyways. Enemies to friends to lovers | No-Upsidedown AU | Fast cars, fast times | Reader moved from "the city" to Hawkins

Tags [will be updated as things progress]: swearing, underage drinking, dangerous driving, Jason sucks as usual, mentions of weed, light angst, misunderstandings, reader is afab, not sure if I'll have smut yet or not

A/N: Chapter 1 is already on Ao3 but here's the Tumblr version! New chapters will always be posted on Ao3 first, with a week or so delay to here.

CH1: 3,780w

-- -- --

“Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning, I sit around / Trying to smile, but the air is so heavy and dry”

If anyone had asked, you wouldn’t have said car racing was something you’d be interested in. Watching hunks of metal speeding around in circles always seemed pretty pointless to you. When combined with the auditory chaos of engines and screaming crowds, and nauseating smell of gasoline and burning rubber, it had never been high on your bucket list.

Then again, neither had moving to Hawkins, Indiana. And yet, here you were: stuck in small-town nowhere for (just, you hoped) the summer. But a summer practically felt like forever to you.

And so you were at the speedway car races with your cousin, Robin. Because apparently, she said, it would “be fun” and “social” and “lots of people went.” 

You supposed you should be lucky Robin was pretty chill about hanging out with you. After all, having your city-slicker cousin practically dumped on your doorstep without so much as a “by your leave” by your parents — who had gone off to “rediscover themselves” and hopefully salvage five years of impending divorce — probably wasn’t high on HER bucket list, either. She and her parents had been more than welcoming, sticking you and your five overstuffed suitcases in the spare room on the second floor, just next door to Robin, without hesitation and urging you to make yourself at home.

If you saw Robin and her parents exchange some pointed and pitying glances, well, you’d just try and ignore them. Because they were right. Your parents clearly didn’t care enough about you to take you with them on their wild second-honeymoon or whatever, so they’d abandoned you without looking back, saying they’d pick you up in a couple months before school started up again. They thought. Maybe homeschooling had been implied as a possibility if they happened to return a bit later than assumed from…Panama? Costa Rica? Whatever warm, probably tropical, place they’d gone to. Without their only daughter. 

Honestly, sometimes you just felt the truth of it in your bones when, at the height of their marital Cold War, they’d each called the other some variant of “frigid bitch.” Only the coldest of the cold would up and abandon their offspring like that, without any evident desire to really take responsibility for them ever again. If you just wandered off at the end of the summer, got a job waiting tables in the nearest big city, didn’t bother to send a forwarding address, you didn’t think they’d be too fussed. Depressing.

The frozen atmosphere at home had gone on so long, you’d practically adopted aloofness yourself as a survival mode. What you didn’t feel, couldn’t hurt. Didn’t help you with making any friends once you’d entered high school, but it kept anyone from really bothering you for three years. The summer before your senior year was supposed to be this golden eternity of afternoons at the pool, perfecting your tan, or giggling at the local mall while licking ice creams and debating who-liked-who-liked-who. 

Not wasting away in Hawkins, a town small enough you bet you could count all of the stoplights on one hand. 

You missed the city so much it ached . Missed the dizzying heights of the buildings towering above you, missed the way the very air seemed to thrum with an energy, a beat that got into your pulse and made you feel alive. Missed the hole-in-the-wall restaurants on every street and the used bookstores piled high with more volumes than you could read in a lifetime. Hawkins was…quaint, but inside you worried if you stayed here long enough it would drain the life out of you until you couldn’t make it anywhere else. 

Not that you’d say any of that to Robin, who was babbling cheerfully away at your side as you strolled up to the local speedway just out of town. She was wearing a loose striped men’s shirt with the cuffs rolled up and jeans, despite the lingering heat of the evening. Robin, you’d come to learn, was pretty much always babbling about something or another, a natural condition that tended to get even worse whenever she was flustered or nervous. Given your tendency to listen, rather than speak, you actually balanced each other out rather well. With her, surprisingly, you felt you could be…yourself…that little bit more. Felt a bit of that icy shell melt away. 

You tuned back in to hear her say, “We’re going to meet up with Steve, he’s gotten there early to stake us out a spot. You wouldn’t think it but it can get really crowded and picking the right spot out of the sun and the dust and on the right side of the track is, like, crucial to the enjoyment factor. Steve’s a boy, by the way. He’s not my boyfriend – well, he’s a boy who’s a friend, but we’re not like that, actually he’s more like an annoying brother. But he’s not annoying, I promise!”

You smiled to yourself as Robin rambled on. Truly, you found it more endearing than not. 

“I’m sure he’s nice,” you said, cutting in so Robin could actually take a full breath. She smiled back at you.

“Yeah, he’s great. But don’t tell him I said that, I swear his hair grows an inch every time someone says something nice about him.”

You smiled and promised that, of course, you wouldn’t breathe a word. 

The two of you step up to the bored-looking teenager taking tickets, and you passed over your paper stub, slightly sweaty from being clutched in your hand. Stepping through the entrance gate, you’re immediately assaulted with the smell of deep-fried foods mixed with beer, the raucous laughter of crowds of families and teens here for an evening out. A fine dust permeated the air, making your eyes water. The track, a packed dirt oval that was both bigger and smaller than you imagined, spread out before you, bordered by some haphazardly stacked rectangle bales of hay you assumed were there for the “safety” of the crowd, though they looked anything but. You imagined any car crashing into those at serious speed would take them out easily…as well as the onlookers setting up their camp chairs frighteningly close to the barrier. 

Across the track, a small elevated building rigged with wires and a mounted loudspeaker was clearly where the announcers were situated. Tinny commentary was blaring from the PA system, but it was almost impossible to hear above the general din. 

There were mullets and wife-beaters on display everywhere. As you looked around, you noted that everyone – and you mean everyone – seemed to be dressed in nothing more formal than jeans and a shirt. You hadn’t batted an eye when Robin left the house like that, because that’s what your cousin always wore. And she’d told you to dress casual but…

“Robin,” you asked, “am I overdressed?”

She’d been herding you along the track toward one end, but at your question she glanced over at you and winced, which you supposed was answer enough. 

“Robinnnnn,” you whined. 

“What?” she protested. “I said ‘casual,’ that’s what you came out in, so I figured it was fine!”

Up until you saw the sea of daisy dukes before you, you’d thought what you were wearing was casual. It certainly was back in the city. The simple, white-and-red polkadot dress you were wearing, cinched at the waist with a plain wide belt you’d dug out the bottom of your suitcase, cute frilly sleeves sitting just below your tanned shoulders, wouldn’t have been anything your classmates back home blinked at. You hadn’t even done your makeup, besides a swipe of lip gloss! But you were rapidly getting the sense you’d have to redefine your expectations here in Hawkins. And with the swirls of rust-colored dust almost constantly permeating the air, you could already tell white was a particularly bad choice.

Oh well, you’d just have to make the best of it. And get the dress in the wash sooner rather than later. 

“It’s alright, Robin,” you reassured your cousin, who’d been worrying at her lip while you thought. “It’s just a dress. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be in any of the cars,” you joked.

“Steve’ll probably have a blanket or something you can use anyways,” she said. “He’s a dad like that. Oh look, there he is. Steve! Steeeeve! Ugh, he isn’t listening. OI, DINGUS!”

Robin waved frantically at a boy a bit ahead of you, who’d staked out a pretty prime spot on the hillside around the middle of the straightaway, complete with camping chairs, picnic blanket and cooler of what you desperately hoped was something cold. Now this is what you’d imagined when Robin said “races.” And it was comfortingly far away from the hay barrier.

The boy – Steve – raked his hands through his already artfully disheveled mop of hair and rolled his eyes at Robin. 

“Could you shout any louder?” he grumbled. “Jesus, I think the whole crowd heard you.”

“Oh don’t be such a wuss. Hey, this is my cousin. She’s cool. Cousin, meet Steve. He’s a dweeb.”

“A dweeb with charm, also known as the best kind,” Steve said with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand. “I heard you’re in town for the summer. Welcome to Hawkins – guessing it’s a pretty big change from where you’re from.”

“Um, yeah, wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s better than I thought. Lots of nice people,” you offered him a small smile in return, a bit taken aback by the easy way he folded you into the dynamic. 

“I’ll bet,” he agreed. “First time at a speedway?”

“First time at any kind of races,” you admitted. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Not much too it really,” Robin said around a mouthful of beer. Clearly, she’d helped herself to Steve’s stash, but by the way he just shook his head, you got the sense this was basically normal. He silently offered you a bottle, but you shook your head – maybe in a bit. Steve did seem nice, but you weren’t quite ready to be under the influence under someone new just yet. Robin kept talking: “Cars go zoom zoom, and the one that goes zoom zoom the fastest wins. We mostly just come here to support Eddie.”

You cocked your head. “Who’s Eddie?”

“Friend from school. He’s been working extra shifts all summer, which is why you haven’t met him yet. He works down at the local body shop, races on the side. We’ll point his car out when he’s up.”

You nodded, sure he’d be nice too, if Robin’s taste in friends so far was anything to go by. 

The three of you sat, chatting amiably for a few minutes, and you felt yourself relaxing into Robin and Steve’s easy, familiar banter. They traded well-worn jabs back and forth, but there’s no heat behind them. You settled yourself on the blanket between them, tucking your skirt beneath your legs and mostly enjoying the vibe, only chiming in when you had something to say, like when Steve started to say “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” was supposedly underrated (he was wrong, and both you and Robin soundly told him so). 

As the sun finally started to go down – days were still long and hot, and all three of you were peevishly slapping at overly familiar mosquitos – the track lights finally flickered into life and it seemed like things were about to start. Robin let out a squeal, wiggling her knees in excitement. 

You were all ready for – you didn’t know, monster trucks or something? – when, to your surprise, the first line of cars that raced onto the track looked more like glorified go karts than anything else. Seeing your confusion, Steve leaned over and murmured, “They do the kiddie stuff first,” and you then saw that the drivers did seem awfully young. Fortunately they were wearing helmets.

The announcer counted down the start, and at the waving of the first green flag they tore around the track, kicking up immense clouds of gasoline-scented dust that settled over everything – your hair, your clothes, you could even see it coating the fine hairs on your arm. Gross. 

And these little kids were vicious. Not crashing directly into each other, but drifting aggressively around the turns and cutting each other off within what looked like inches to spare between bumpers. Everyone was cheering on individual numbers, and you, Steve and Robin got into it by picking your favorite car and rooting for them at the top of your lungs. After a few heats you felt your throat dry up, and gratefully accepted one of the cooling bottles of beer Steve offered. 

Beer with friends on a Friday night. Weirdly, this felt more like how you thought summer was supposed to go than you figured you’d get in Hawkins. Or anywhere. 

As the night wore on, the races of the small and mid-sized cars started to blur into each other, and you started idly wondering when you’d be able to go home. Well. To Robin’s home. 

“And nowwwww, the event you’ve all been waiting forrrrr!” shrilled the announcer.

From the back paddock where all the cars were parked, there came a grunty rumble. A vibration that made its way into your bones, your veins, the thump-thump of your heart. This was the rhythm you’d been missing, filling you up from the inside out. 

And then, the first line of proper-sized cars ripped their way onto the track, to a massive cheer from the crowd. But you weren’t even sure you could call them “cars.” Dinged, dented, and beaten back into shape, these were machines reduced to the essence of speed. Any extra baggage had clearly been ripped out – seats, radio, even the entire bottom half of the trunk was gone. What was left was the engines, the driver’s seat, and anything essential to make them go. 

They ran a few menacing laps around the track, jostling for position on the grid. 

“Look, there’s Eddie!” Robin pointed.

“Which one is he?” you asked.

“The black one, with the red bat on the hood.”

“Eddie’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” Steve clarified. 

Your eyes traced the black car as Eddie maneuvered it into the inside of the track, on the front row – “That’s a good position,” Steve clarified again. Unlike most of the other cars, which had paint jobs in varying states of peeling off, Eddie clearly kept his car freshly painted despite the risk of damage – it gleamed, pitch blank, with just the blood red of the bat leaping out of the design. From what you could see of Eddie, as he was mostly shielded by a helmet, he was also in all black. 

“I’m sensing a theme,” you muttered dryly. 

Like horses jostling for position, the cars – there must have been a dozen or so – revved their engines just behind the starting line. There was an agonizing moment of tension, where everyone stared at the red stoplight holding them in place. 

Then it winked green, the flag was waved, and the race began. 

You watched as Eddie’s car and the one on his right, painted a chipped red-white-and-blue roared to the front like bats of out hell. They gunned it down the straightaway before whipping into a drift around the curve that was so aggressive, their cars yawing onto two wheels so hard, your hands flew to your mouth to swallow a gasp despite yourself, sure they’d tip over or spin out. Magically Eddie’s car righted itself as he came out of the turn and he gunned it down the next straight, neck and neck with the other vehicle. 

The laps went by in what felt to you like seconds, a frenetic dance conducted at speed. With the razor-thin margins the two cars took the turns, you knew that if Eddie lost concentration for a nanosecond, he’d be out of the race. You blinked dust out of your eyes furiously, loath to miss a single second. Next to you, Robin and Steve were yelling – you were pretty sure Robin was just repeating profanities at this point – but you could hardly make yourself breathe normally, let alone cheer. 

There were only a few laps to go and the other car had stolen the lead from Eddie. Though Eddie was keeping the black monstrosity right on his tail, pushing himself right into the rear bumper to try and throw the other driver off. 

They made another sharp drift around a corner and, as they came off the curve, Eddie made his move, pushing the throttle to take his car around the outside of the red-and-white leader. He took the turn, hard, trying to get his nose in front of the other car’s, and this time you did let out a whimper of concern. Your heart thumped in time with the roar of the crowd, and when Eddie made it, slipping in front of his rival to cross the finish line first, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

Steve and Robin were now jumping up and down and hugging each other, and you smiled at their infectious joy. 

The other cars coasted to a stop in the middle of the track while Eddie took his victory lap, waving the checkered flag from out the driver’s window. He must have spotted the two maniacs next to you, because the car rolled to a stop on the track in front of you, and Eddie stepped out from the car. 

You knew he drove like a devil, but you weren’t expecting him to look like a fallen angel. 

A strange shiver ran through you as you watched him pull off his black helmet. Long, dark curls spilled out, framing his sharp, sculpted face. Even with his bangs sweat-soaked and disheveled, he was capital H-O-T. Dark hair, dark eyes, with a plush mouth you knew was made for sin. He was everything your parents would have warned you away from, and everything you – or your body, at least – immediately wanted. 

“Be normal,” you thought to yourself. “This is Robin’s friend .”

Robin and Steve trotted down to the side of the track, and you trailed behind them, a little unsure. It was the last race of the evening, and with the entertainment over, the crowds were starting to melt away. It didn’t escape your notice that while all the other drivers were getting handshakes and back-slaps galore from their fellow racers and even some officials, no one had come over to congratulate the actual winner, Eddie, except for the three of you.

“Edieeeeee, you won!” Robin shrieked at her usual top-volume. “But also, ugh, you smell like fumes, ew no, don’t hug me.” She wiggled away from his playful attempt at a hug, wrinkling your nose. 

“Comes with the territory, Robin, you’re just gonna have to get used to it. You certainly don’t mind when I’m fixing your car for free, again . Hey, Steve, nice of the King to make an appearance.” The two boys traded fist bumps, Steve rolling his eyes at his high school nickname. You broke into a wide smile at their antics. 

Eddie’s eyes met yours, where you lingered behind, and he arched one eyebrow, his previously warm and open expression becoming more guarded, scanning you from the top of your windswept hair to the bottom of your now quite dusty flats. Your smile faded, and you resisted the urge to brush yourself off in the face of his gaze.

“Who’s this?” he asked. “Wasn’t aware we had a third cheerleader on the squad. Does little miss Dots like what she has to see so far?”

You find yourself bristling at his presumptuous tone. “I don’t quite take your meaning,” you respond stiffly. 

Eddie laughed, an open, easy sound you could have loved – except for the sharp edge to his voice. He straddled the hay bale, spreading his hands open. You tried not to look at how his black racing uniform stretched tight over his thighs. Really, you tried. 

“Come on, guys, this is a joke, right? Ha, ha, Eddie’s first race of the season, let’s get a cute little cupcake of a girl to come along, flirt a little, string lil ’ol Eddie along? Give the girl a ride to remember?”

He fixed his molten brown eyes on you. “Did someone put you up to it, Dots? Patrick? Jason? It’s the sort of shit thing Jason would do.”

By this point, both Steve and Robin were exchanging a confused glance that clearly conveyed their shared sense of, “uh, what?” But you knew exactly what. 

Eddie had taken one look at you – at your too-much dress, too-much smile, maybe something else you didn’t even know in your demeanor – and concluded that the only possible explanation for your presence was that you were a…paid escort? Hooker? Someone bribed to come watch his race and flutter your eyelashes at him, spread her legs?

You felt the usual protection of your ice queen reputation from back home freezing off any earlier warmth from your expression. 

“Someone clearly has a high opinion of himself. I’m not going to cream just because you’ve got half skills with half a car. Get over yourself. Robin,” you turn to your cousin, “I’m going back to the house.”

“It’s miles to the house,” Robin protested, nervous gaze flicking between you – fuming – and Eddie – nonchalantly picking at his cuticles, not sparing you another glance. 

“I’ll walk.” It was only a mile or so to Robin’s, and you didn’t want to spend a single second more in his company, friends with your cousin or not. Eddie’d done a spectacular job of reminding you why you usually didn’t do things that were “fun” or “social” or that “lots of people” went to. You didn’t need another asshole man in your life, your father was doing a bang-up job of that by himself. 

“I’d give you a ride, Dots, but as you can see,” Eddie gestured to the literally empty passenger seat in the stock car next to him, “I can’t.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, whirling around and stomping off before reaching a hand up to swipe angrily at the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. 

You heard Robin run after you. “She’s my cousin you MORON,” she called back to Eddie. When she caught up to you, you gave her a watery smile in thanks, and she reached over to squeeze your shoulders. 

New item for your summer bucket list: Never, ever see Eddie again.

-- -- --

NEXT TIME: You and Robin go to a party.

#cruel summer #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fic #enemies to friends to lovers #speedway au

[courtingchaos]

Bully Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Plus Size!Fem!OC (written in 2nd POV you/your)

Summary: Third time’s the charm, right?

On his third and final senior year, Eddie is ready to coast as far under the radar as everyone will allow. Between finding a new leader for Hellfire, keeping his grades just above water and maybe finally getting a date with his longtime crush Chrissy Cunningham, he barely has time to breathe.

To get to his ultimate goal of scoring the Prom Queen he’ll need help, and unfortunately that means enlisting you, the bane of his senior year. Both thorns in each other sides, it’s only a matter of time before you tear each other to shreds, or maybe find out that you have more in common than you thought.

Series Notes: This is a pretty low stakes story. Typical high school drama, enemies to friends to lovers. I don’t do non happy endings, but I do love putting my boy through the wringer.

Series Warnings (will be regularly updated as new chapters are posted): Substance abuse, absent parents, incarcerated parents, drug and alcohol use, smoking, language, sex in all its iterations (either discussed or depicted), era appropriate insults.

August- In the Garden of Wonder and Worry TBA

September- The Morning Star Is a Teen Girl

October

November

December

January

February

March

April

May

June

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson X OC #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson Smut #My Work #My Fic #Bully Masterlist

[districtsof-treason]

do you know what I would give to be able to walk to skull rock with Eddie under a big umbrella while it’s raining

just listen to the heavy drops hit the top of the umbrella while you just chat and giggle about nothing and everything

#it’s raining here today and it’s so comfortable I wish I could share it with him #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader

[luveline]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

[blue-blue-blooms]

Eddie Munson Headcanons

Eddie Munson x Reader

Established Relationship

You and Eddie had been dating for a while, pretty much since the summer of '85.

You were Dustin's babysitter which meant you knew him and his friends pretty well. This meant that when they tried to hide a psychokinetic, bald child in Mike Wheeler's basement, you caught them pretty early on.

You hadn't expected to become friends with Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, but when they proved themselves to be different from your preconceived notions, you became close friends.

So, yeah, you'd fought alongside the party, kicking Demogorgon ass. You'd also gotten drugged and interrogated alongside your friends. You were aware of just how fucked up Hawkins really was.

You thought that it'd be hard to keep all of this a secret from Eddie but you found it surprisingly easy. It was nice to be around someone normal for once, even though Eddie didn't really classify as 'normal'.

You'd go on dates to the movies, share a milkshake at your favorite diner, hold hands as you walked around the woods.

Eddie would try to get you into metal music but you weren't really a fan. It made Eddie pout and stomp his feet like a child sometimes but you were a goddamn babysitter and that shit didn't work on you.

He tried to get you to play D&D but was immediately shot down.

"Last time I chose to participate in a D&D game, a child went missing. So, no way."

He understood that.

He understood a lot, actually. He didn't pester you with questions any time you jolted awake in your sleep, sobbing. He'd just hold you in his arms and sing to you until you'd calmed down. He'd pepper your face with kisses any time you seemed upset. He'd pretend to fall over or hurt himself to get a laugh out of you.

You weren't sure how you'd gone your entire life not having known him. But you knew for sure that you'd spend the rest of your life getting to know him, every version of him.

When Eddie gets caught in the middle of everything, he's incredibly surprised to learn that you already knew. He asked you why you'd never told him anything to which you promptly replied, "I signed an NDA, Eddie. I don't want the government after me." He couldn't really argue with that.

After he found out what happened at Starcourt, he'd thrown a shoulder around you and smacked a huge kiss on your cheek, "You're telling me you fought off actual Russian spies, got drugged, fought a fucking Mind Flayer, and made it out alive? Damn, babe, I didn't know you were such a badass."

He nearly fell over after he found out you broke Billy Hargrove's nose after he nearly killed Steve.

"That's really hot."

"Is this actually turning you on?"

"I mean...I wouldn't mind if you punched me in the face."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #stranger things fic #fluff #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x oc #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson drabble #Eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #steve harrington

[usedtobecooler]

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, size kink, oral m receiving, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, general debauchery. for my love @raccoonboywrites

and, listen, you’re not a size queen at all. don’t care much for how big or small a cock is so long as whoever it’s attached to knows how to use it. but you gasp out loud once you get your fingers dig under eddie’s waistband, pulling the offending material down to let his length spring out.

it’s enough to shock you back into the room, watching as the thick weight of it slaps against eddie’s tummy, the way it curves into his navel. he’s wet, leaking at the head and matting down the pretty swirls of black hair that lead a trail down, down, down.

he’s rumpled against your bed frame, slumped down with his shirt rucked up his tummy. the prettiest pink flush spreading across his cheeks, tinging his ears and dipping as low as his collar. you’re willing to bet his chest is blotched with the lovely rosy colour, too. he grips aimlessly at your comforter, wide eyes watching your every move; tracing every hitch of your breath.

you wrap your hand around the base — purposely ignoring the pathetic little whine eddie makes, because jesus now isn’t the time to think too much about that — and you moan despite yourself when your hand doesn’t even wrap fully around the girth of it, dwarfing your fingers and palm.

“you— you’re so big, oh my god,” your voice catches at the end, desperate and dampened by your own desire for it. you lean forward, hot breath ghosting over him, tugging his foreskin back just enough for the head to pop out, shiny and reddening with need, “you could’ve at least warned me you were packing a python down there, fuck.”

“oh shit, really? i thought it was aver— holy fuck, you don’t have to—“ he’s bug eyed, eyebrows shooting under his fringe as you mouth at the head, determined and eager to get a taste of him. uncut, heavy on your tongue, the heady splash of precum blurting out to coat your tastebuds.

eddie’s knees kick up a little as you mouth greedily at his tip, pointing your tongue to run in circles around the glans on the underside. you smirk despite yourself, getting a kick out of it when eddie goes a little cross eyed, burying a ringed hand into your hair.

you indulge yourself, feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you sink lower, just far back enough as to not trigger your gag reflex. your lips wrapping around his hot flesh, suckling softly, reveling in each blurt of pearlescent release that drips onto your tongue.

“baby, sweetheart — fuck,” eddie gasps, breath shuddery, lightly pulling at your tresses to test the water. his mouth falling open into a quiet moan when your eyes flutter at the feeling, “y’can- y’can take more, right? s’not… s’not that big.”

your jaw cracks under what of him you’ve fit in, which truthfully isn’t much. despite your efforts, there’s still a good three inches of eddie’s cock left untouched by hand or mouth, and you really have to wonder if he’s that clueless of his size. you pull off with a wet pop, strings of saliva keeping you connected to him as you stare up with wet orbs.

“eddie, you’re huge.” your voice is wrecked, butterflies swirling in your tummy as you make eye contact with him once again. you flush under his debauched gaze, "i— shit. nobody's ever told you before?"

eddie shrugs, considers for a moment. you don't think he's aware of the fact he's holding you in place with his hand, gripping your hair just enough to keep you still, hovering over his dick just close enough that if he wanted to, he could push you back down, get your mouth back on him.

though, that’s clearly not what he wants. because, he’s slipping the hand from your hair, doing this kind of awkward dance as he lays you out where he wants you.

you end up on your back, thighs spread wide as eddie slots between them, mouthing hotly at your neck. his fingers graze along your flushed skin, dance on your hipbone, across your pelvis. dips those godforsaken fingers into your panties, carelessly fumbling over your sopping wet pussy.

“this is okay, right?”

“it’s all okay, eddie. anything you want.”

"not— not even touched you yet and you're already this wet?" eddie's voice is a low timbre against your skin, has you arching up into his touch with a soft little moan. he sounds shocked, no heat or teasing in his words.

"can't help it," you gasp, exhaling shakily when eddie swipes two fingers over your clit deftly, unable to hide his smile at how receptive you are, "feeling the size of you in my hand — my mouth, god. would've let you choke me with it, would've thanked you."

eddie buries his face into your cleavage, poorly concealing a choked whine. he's skillful with his fingers, working you over fast despite how much your words are clearly affecting him.

your hips rock in short little circles, fingers sinking into eddie's hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck. you whine, body set alight with the feeling of calloused fingers grazing the small bundle of nerves.

he's biting you, brandishing you with little blooming bruises, and with the noise he makes against your damp skin you'd think it was him getting touched like this, him hurtling towards the edge.

you're so wet that the slick noises of eddie's fingers on your pussy are deafening in your ears, causing your back to prickle with heat, tummy winding tight.

the hot, heavy flesh of his cock presses against your inner thigh, shocking loud moans from you both at the same time. you arch up into his touch, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body.

"i— you're making me cum," you gasp breathily, a static feeling warming your body, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you grapple for eddie's hair once more, tugging with a ferocity as your release washes over you.

it's. something. you feel like you're fucking floating, and eddie keeps swirling his fingers perfectly, whispering little shocked praises and keening into your rough pulling as he wrings you out.

once eddie's sure you're done with the aftershocks of your orgasm, he hazards pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you're practically shooting away with overstimulation. crying out, somehow swivelling your hips and pushing down onto his fingers further once the shock wears off.

"you're a shit," you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "god, might've known your dick was gonna be big, fuckin' size of your fingers."

"was— was that good for you? can i, shit can i?" eddie's desperate, rutting the thick outline of his cock against your thigh. he's never stopped fucking leaking, soaking your leg in milky precum and allowing the slip and slide to feel good.

you nod, shaky hands tilting his head up so you can finally, finally, get your mouth on his. eddie's whole body presses flush against yours, his hand coming out to stabilise himself so he doesn't crush you, and fuck.

it's so charged, like he can't stilt his emotions as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, lapping at your own wetly. it's probably disgusting, doesn't feel like it though — you'd swallow his spit happily, whenever he wanted, if it meant he kept making you feel like this.

eddie's shaky hand fumbles for the base of his cock as you continue kissing, positioning himself so that he's nestled prettily between your legs. the kisses turn languid, and he almost sounds pained when he next speaks, "s-sorry. if it, if it hurts."

"let it hurt, i want it to," your demeanor falters a little, turning doe eyed and pleading as eddie slides the ruddy head of his cock up and down the seam of your cunt, flirts with the idea of pushing the tip in just to watch you gasp and keen.

"would never," eddie promises, finally — fucking, finally — pushing the first few inches into the sopping wet heat of your pussy. he cries out when you clench around him unwittingly, and you mumble out a small sorry as you adjust.

it's. not good. it's not bad, either, but fuck. you feel like you're being split from the inside, the thick tip pushing you wider than you anticipated. your fingers grapple for eddie's biceps, nails digging in tightly, "so fucking big, oh my god, you're gonna split me in half."

you're breathless and eddie catches on, panics a little, "you're okay? you're okay, right? i can sto—"

"if you stop, i swear to god," you seethe, looking at eddie with a fierce spark in your eyes, "keep going. fuck. keep going."

before long and with a little bit of resistance, eddie's buried deep inside of you. your bodies roll against one anothers, shallow, slow breaths

it starts slow, the catch and drag of eddie's cock shocking you both into silence. but, before long, your pussy catches up with the programme, gushing wet and allowing eddie to push in further with each thrust.

it's intimate, erotic.

"you're so tight," eddie all-out whimpers, head falling and shoulders shaking as he fucks you at a lazy pace, clearly trying his best to hold out for as long as he can.

"fuck, you’re so gentle,” you try, knees squeezing eddie’s narrow waist, thighs encapsulating him, “you can go quicker. not gonna break me.”

eddie shakes his head, almost like he’s bewildered. looks at you all fucking soft, clearly can’t help the rut of his hips as he buries in deep, biting his inner lips to muffle his noises.

you grasp a hold of eddie's hand with nimble fingers, guide his hand over the softness of your tummy, let him push down where his cock is buried deep inside of you. his whole body shudders, and you can feel where he kicks up.

"practically in my guts," you wheeze, unable to shake the full feeling despite how your pussy gushes for him, so full you swear you feel him in your throat with every deep thrust he can muster, "you're s-so big, eddie."

"oh— jesus, can't do shit like that. can't say shit like that," eddie grunts desperately, rutting into you and gripping for your waist tightly, other hand still pushed down on the pudge of your belly, "gonna make me cum so, so quick."

"can feel every ridge of you, you're splitting me apart," you keen, "i can't— god, you've ruined me f-for anyone else. yours, yours, m'yours."

eddie's forehead slumps against your own, and you're panting into each others mouths more than anything else, lips barely brushing, "mine, you're mine." he agrees, though he sounds pained and submissive as he says it.

your hand snakes around eddie's neck, holding him in place as he fucks you so desperately, so rough you're rattling the stupid bedframe, and you don't think you've ever felt anything like this before. it's all-consuming, the tug between sore and soul-crushingly sensual.

your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, the constant press against your spot causing a quicker build up than you could've anticipated. you both make eye contact as you come with a muted gasp, nails scraping harshly at the soft skin on eddie's neck as you rock it out.

"didn't think you could get any tighter, god," eddie whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, finger-shaped bruises sure to be left on your hips as he fucks you in some sort of reckless abandon, "fuck, i'm so close. i'm so sorry, fuck, fuck."

you nod, understanding, the wet clap of skin on skin deafening as your release allows an even smoother glide. he's fucking ethereal above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat, mouth open in a constant stream of steady moans.

you reach between where both of your bodies meet, where the final few inches don't quite fit, spreading your fingers either side of his cock to allow friction as he fucks in and out rapidly, chasing his high.

eddie looks at you with a wild expression, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. he grunts like a fucking animal, eyes drifting down to where your hand is, "you— you— i'm cumming, holy fuck—!"

he's loud when he comes, full body wracked with it. you feel his cock pulse and kick inside of you, painting your insides deep. the moan you let out at the feeling is hardly voluntary, so pathetic you flush hot when you realise just how loud you are.

"thank you, thank you," eddie's mumbling against your skin, kissing the side of your neck softly as he comes down, "god, you're perfect. so perfect."

you shudder, overcome with this sappy fucking fond feeling, allowing eddie to collapse on top of you once he's done. it's soft, domestic, even.

you both end up in some sort of gross, body fluid covered cuddle as you calm down. blissed out in the post-orgasmic haze, and fuck.

maybe you're in love with him.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson drabble #my fanfic #mine #x reader